Hi!
I made it!!
Traveling Christmas weekend, didn't loose luggage or have flight delays or broken rental cars or family blow ups or over-drunkenness or a wad of cash in my stocking or ill feelings when someone made a bowl of soup instead of eating the feast my sister and I prepared for Christimas Eve dinner... I even got confirmation that I'm not making this shit up when the step-sister's boyfriend and I dodged an 'old family friend' party and he said "I thought my family was wierd, but this whole place operates in such a fucked up way - there is NO FUCKING WAY I would date the girl I saw in there tonight, its like she puts on a show for her mom, she is such a great girl in Arizona, but here, its like the fucking Twilight Zone!"
OK, so Flo came 10 days late right in the middle of my dad's house all over my outfit. This caused me to be OK with the idea of breaking into the Capt'n Morgan bottle at about, um, 11am Saturday morning. You know, to help the ibprofin haze hit a little sooner and a little harder. Sister and I spent Saturday bumming around the old hometown shopping for people I vehimently did NOT want to spend money on but after I saw the stack under the tree with my name on it I HAD to get SOMETHING... Sister doesn't realize she and her "free trip to see the stepsisters" cost me $200. THANKS, not like I have to COVER YOUR RENT in a WEEK or anything... and I didn't want car insurance this month anyway =)
So I spent the whole weekend bleeding profusely, half tossed, and having polite (then excessively frank) conversation with people that have no idea who I really am and don't care to know.
The reason I start with this is: I came back to work to find a girl sitting at my desk. My bosses hired a replacement for me and didn't let me know, so this poor thing was sitting there answering phones with nothing else to do for an hour and a half.
ahem.
So, to have a girl sitting next to me this week and next with no bosses around, we have become fast friends and gabbed about all sorts of stuff as we waited for her login name to get processed and for people to get out of interviews so we could leave for lunch and just because when Would Be Boss called for the 5th time in 3 hours and I replied to "whats up" with "I wanna call Sexy and I don't really know why."
Long story short, I made the call. He got a message. He called back. He apologized for how it went down. We caught up on school and holidays and new jobs and all that. He said he thinks about how we would have sex sometimes. I said I do to. I said I called because I missed my friend. He will call on his break cuz he called on his way in to work. Trainee got all excited to hear the dirt when I came back to the desk she was working at and was flush in the face.
Why? Everyone says I want to get laid. Latent reason? Surely. Compounding that though, suddenly I want to get girliefied and clean my room and unpack and organize and go grocery shopping and all the stuff I used to do because I had more in my life than work and bed. I like that my heart raced today every time the phone rang, wondering if it was him.
I realize this is a condensed version of His and my relationship, with the rediculous amounts of game playing followed by hiatus followed by pleasantries... the next steps will be fantastic sex and him leaving me instants afterward only to be ultimately left on the sidelines while he goes off and has a real relationship with someone else.
And that I know this and will meet him if he asks... baffles the mind, doesn't it??
In the mean time, my sister gave me this book with an eating plan that says "pull out the ziploc baggie and eat everything in it" every 3 hours, and a walk once a day, and I can be not bulging out of my clothes by next week, and maybe be using my gift card for a new size of jeans by the end of the second week... the trouble with that is I have to go to the store and buy food and cook it and put it in the ziploc baggies AND tell WouldBeBoss that I appreciate her buying breakfast for the office but I just don't eat doughnuts or bagels anymore. Oh, and stop drinking daily =( This might be the hardest of all... of course "1 cup cooked rice" could equal the carbs of "1 12oz light beer"?????
I'm an idiot. I know. I like to have great sex. I know. I said I was done with the bullshit and I called him anyway. I know. I've been the same pound and in the same pants for at least 5 years and think THIS WEEK I'll change my life??? right, I know.
But hey, Trainee thinks Sassy fits my real personality splendidly after I lucked out and let her listen to my and Techie's conversation and told her thats what Techie and the boys call me, so I guess the day isn't a total wash of blatent retarded behavior, huh??
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Thursday, December 21, 2006
As The Spaz Turns
SO.Much.Drama.
I sincerely hope that by the time I'm pushing 50, my daily life does not include tears of rage followed by apologies, followed by hocus pocus rationalization, followed by blame placing, followed by an alcoholic stupor before my interupted by trips to the bathroom and something that requires the shower to get turned on repeatedly in the night.
Long story short, we had a blow-out, I stood my ground (literally, she told me to get out and I didn't even shift my weight), it was solidified that she would be out by the first (again, yes, we are back to Jan. 1 move date), and I started making plans to facilitate that.
So who KNOWS what kind of freak fit she threw last night when I brought over my coworker to meet Her Shortness before the weekend where Shortstack will be living at Coworker's house (she needs a nicname, I know, I can only think of ones I've used before though, so give a Sass a minute) only to get, this morning, "um, she can stay here, its really not necessary to get a dogsitter."
Excu - WHAT????
"You told me that you were going to be gone this weekend looking for places to move to, you said on the message that you AND BRUT would be gone this weekend, so I found a way to take care of My LoveBug while you were gone."
"Oh, well, I'll look for places but I can't take him with me, so I'll be home at nights, and I can look for places from home, so really, you don't need... I mean, I know we had a fight this week, but I really don't mind watching her ::big eyed blink:: plus she will miss you anyway and this way she doesn't have all her weekend disrupted."
"Listen, its not that I don't want you watching her, but you said you'd be gone. I've spent 2 days racking my brain and options to get this set up."
"oh, well, she can stay..."
I look at the 'baroo' eyes on my sweeties face and though of how well she took to Coworker and how excited they both were at the ideas of what this weekend would entail - we were talking in the driveway about poop schedules and walking habits and pill popping and table scrap policies and finally we decided it was too cold to kabitz anymore so Coworker walks to her truck as I get Shorts to stand up and walk back toward us (from her perch Right.On. the property line staring down the long sidewalk like she can see past 10 feet) and Sweetness veered right to waddle after Coworker. We all three stop, and I try to persuade SugarBoogie to follow me back to the house so I can get on some walking shoes and a sweater so we can check out the long stretch of sidewalk she'd been staring down. She looks at me, looks at Coworker, and takes a few more steps toward the truck.
Giggle ensue, Sweets finally gets it that she isn't leaving in the vehicle, nudges Coworker's knee for one more scratch behind the ear, then begrudgingly mopes back to my side of the great divide (or driveway, whatever, she though it was quite the mean trick to play).
Yeah, I'm thinking we will both get a vacation this weekend. And I really don't care what Spaz thinks about it at this point - I've made plans, Coworker and her whole family and house have made plans, I've got the money to pay in advance for CHEEEEEEP dogsitting, and I KNOW BoogieBear will have a splendid romp at the horse stables before plenty of under-the-knee-snuck table scraps and a fight over who's feet she will snuggle at bedtime.
All this after a few hours of pen tossing (I don't have a coin, shut up) to figure which sitch would be best all around. I'm going with "happy coworker I will be partners with next week, happy pup who gets to show her cuteness to a whole new set of pet lovers, smiles on my face knowing she is being loved on instead of sitting at home with Brut waiting for Spaz to talk shit about me" instead of "be a tightwad and let pup sit home alone all day like she does every day so its not that bad and try not to hurt Spaz's feelings by declining her offer".
In 24 hours I'll be flying over California, and I have NO idea what to do with myself after I land on the other side. I'm hoping someone has an idea, otherwise I'm likely to take one of the cars and cruise town for, oh, 10 hours to see if my dreams will stop involving all my college drinking spots ;)
Oh yeah, its been WEEKS since this Sassy has had her pants ripped off by an able man and with Flo literally knocking (thats what it feels like with the random spazmatic mini cramps, like there is someone on the inside banging my junk with the end of a cane) I am totally contsantly conscious of and focused around my crotch and its every momentary change - this is why I couldn't be a guy; every time my pants moved I'd think of my dick and what it was doing and SCHZAM I'd have the nicname Woody by the second day anyone knew me... I digress - I'll be bleeding through prime One Night Stand vacation days so there will be no "bend me over in the bathroom, then you can buy me a drink" this holiday.
To preceed Vince's comment - sure, I'll be done by New Years, and of COURSE I'm thinking of traveling for the holiday, but I really need to pay, um, what was it, oh, right, RENT next month as I'll be the lease owner, so we'll see if I'm doing anything besides wanking off in an empty house while waiting for the Dick Clark Ball Drop.
That sounded dirty and wrong, but you follow. ;)
In case I don't get to check in over the weekend - here's wishing you all those totally sincere happy cliche sayings that come around this time of year that I'm too busy signing generic cards to think of - to EACH and EVERY one of you!
I sincerely hope that by the time I'm pushing 50, my daily life does not include tears of rage followed by apologies, followed by hocus pocus rationalization, followed by blame placing, followed by an alcoholic stupor before my interupted by trips to the bathroom and something that requires the shower to get turned on repeatedly in the night.
Long story short, we had a blow-out, I stood my ground (literally, she told me to get out and I didn't even shift my weight), it was solidified that she would be out by the first (again, yes, we are back to Jan. 1 move date), and I started making plans to facilitate that.
So who KNOWS what kind of freak fit she threw last night when I brought over my coworker to meet Her Shortness before the weekend where Shortstack will be living at Coworker's house (she needs a nicname, I know, I can only think of ones I've used before though, so give a Sass a minute) only to get, this morning, "um, she can stay here, its really not necessary to get a dogsitter."
Excu - WHAT????
"You told me that you were going to be gone this weekend looking for places to move to, you said on the message that you AND BRUT would be gone this weekend, so I found a way to take care of My LoveBug while you were gone."
"Oh, well, I'll look for places but I can't take him with me, so I'll be home at nights, and I can look for places from home, so really, you don't need... I mean, I know we had a fight this week, but I really don't mind watching her ::big eyed blink:: plus she will miss you anyway and this way she doesn't have all her weekend disrupted."
"Listen, its not that I don't want you watching her, but you said you'd be gone. I've spent 2 days racking my brain and options to get this set up."
"oh, well, she can stay..."
I look at the 'baroo' eyes on my sweeties face and though of how well she took to Coworker and how excited they both were at the ideas of what this weekend would entail - we were talking in the driveway about poop schedules and walking habits and pill popping and table scrap policies and finally we decided it was too cold to kabitz anymore so Coworker walks to her truck as I get Shorts to stand up and walk back toward us (from her perch Right.On. the property line staring down the long sidewalk like she can see past 10 feet) and Sweetness veered right to waddle after Coworker. We all three stop, and I try to persuade SugarBoogie to follow me back to the house so I can get on some walking shoes and a sweater so we can check out the long stretch of sidewalk she'd been staring down. She looks at me, looks at Coworker, and takes a few more steps toward the truck.
Giggle ensue, Sweets finally gets it that she isn't leaving in the vehicle, nudges Coworker's knee for one more scratch behind the ear, then begrudgingly mopes back to my side of the great divide (or driveway, whatever, she though it was quite the mean trick to play).
Yeah, I'm thinking we will both get a vacation this weekend. And I really don't care what Spaz thinks about it at this point - I've made plans, Coworker and her whole family and house have made plans, I've got the money to pay in advance for CHEEEEEEP dogsitting, and I KNOW BoogieBear will have a splendid romp at the horse stables before plenty of under-the-knee-snuck table scraps and a fight over who's feet she will snuggle at bedtime.
All this after a few hours of pen tossing (I don't have a coin, shut up) to figure which sitch would be best all around. I'm going with "happy coworker I will be partners with next week, happy pup who gets to show her cuteness to a whole new set of pet lovers, smiles on my face knowing she is being loved on instead of sitting at home with Brut waiting for Spaz to talk shit about me" instead of "be a tightwad and let pup sit home alone all day like she does every day so its not that bad and try not to hurt Spaz's feelings by declining her offer".
In 24 hours I'll be flying over California, and I have NO idea what to do with myself after I land on the other side. I'm hoping someone has an idea, otherwise I'm likely to take one of the cars and cruise town for, oh, 10 hours to see if my dreams will stop involving all my college drinking spots ;)
Oh yeah, its been WEEKS since this Sassy has had her pants ripped off by an able man and with Flo literally knocking (thats what it feels like with the random spazmatic mini cramps, like there is someone on the inside banging my junk with the end of a cane) I am totally contsantly conscious of and focused around my crotch and its every momentary change - this is why I couldn't be a guy; every time my pants moved I'd think of my dick and what it was doing and SCHZAM I'd have the nicname Woody by the second day anyone knew me... I digress - I'll be bleeding through prime One Night Stand vacation days so there will be no "bend me over in the bathroom, then you can buy me a drink" this holiday.
To preceed Vince's comment - sure, I'll be done by New Years, and of COURSE I'm thinking of traveling for the holiday, but I really need to pay, um, what was it, oh, right, RENT next month as I'll be the lease owner, so we'll see if I'm doing anything besides wanking off in an empty house while waiting for the Dick Clark Ball Drop.
That sounded dirty and wrong, but you follow. ;)
In case I don't get to check in over the weekend - here's wishing you all those totally sincere happy cliche sayings that come around this time of year that I'm too busy signing generic cards to think of - to EACH and EVERY one of you!
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Get On Your Knees
Pray for me ya'll, I need all the strength I can muster.
I've already told the story 4 times in the last hour, but lucky for you I emailed it once so I'm just gonna copy and paste the long version and you can see just what a mental dump looks like.
**Somehow, my getting assaulted by 120 pounds of retarded hound dog every morning wasn't enough to drive Spaz over the edge... somehow when he gets his teeth around my hand every other time I come home, and him pouncing me, and chest pressing me, it wasn't THAT big of a deal... and with my best efforts to bring to her attention that this is a DOG we are dealing with and ASKING him IF he can sit and take a chewie for going hoarse yelling at me because I brush my hair before I go to work, she still insisted that the situation was just something to deal with.
So, I got bit yesterday morning. It's never hard, but the teeth marks my flesh red for a few hours and he is TRYING to grab at me when it happens. I yelled at him, raised my hand and nearly came down with a punch in the head, and yelled some more when he started howling at me - she didn't come flying downstairs to tell me not to use a harsh tone - I assumed she was in the shower because she INSISTS you coddle this mofo.
Last night, I come home, he screams his head off, jumps at me, and refuses to let me in even the 6 feet before I could escape upstairs. She is in the kitchen, talking baby talk to him, and I have scratch marks on my chest from his antics.
THEN, Sister comes in, maybe 3 minutes after me. He is still barking at me, turns around and there she is, he walks to bark at the wall, then bark out the window, then bark in the kitchen - he isn't even looking at her or me, just talking to mid air. We are all being nice, Sister takes 3 steps in the house, and he lunges at her.
I FLIP OUT. I grab his neck, yell loudly over his pathetic attempt at a believeable squeel, try to drag him to throw him outside, Spaz is trying to interceed, we are all in the hallway (with SuperAwsomeShortyPup underfoot trying to say hi in all the maylay)...
I am done fighting with this dog, Spaz takes him to the kitchen, the noise has stopped, Sister and I start upstairs with Shorty right behind us, Spaz is saying I should have warned her that my sister (who is over about 3 days a week at this point) was coming so she could have TOLD THE DOG we would have guests, I say "it is completely unacceptable that he bit me this morning, that I was mauled coming home, and that he was FINE with her for WEEKS and is now she gets bite marks every time she comes to the place I call home."
I checked my phone - I got a text from Sister saying she got to work on time, and a voicemail from Spaz saying "thats it. I can't have Brut attacking your sister like that. I'll find a place this weekend, and you guys can take over on the first, if that still works for you. ok, bye"
Right-o.
I like control.
I'd lost control.
I was grinding teeth that she said she would leave January first and then changed her mind. I just kept thinking that 2007 would be a great year and it will start ON NEW YEARS and BAM!!!
Apparently my getting bit every other day, and my sctached up chest from where he pounces me when I come home as he howls and yells and barks and snarls at me was OK to live with, but let my sister get this vicious attack was over her edge.
So, Sister was liking the idea of keeping her job 45 minutes away and staying where she is now and housesitting around the family for the month and moving in February first... how do I politely say that our screaming match last night and storming out and coming home at 2am was enough to get Spaz to fulfill my wildest happiest most perfect fruition of this goal and that she and I are paying January rent in TWO WEEKS?? **
I am asking for a little help - I need as many people as possible to get some good thoughts on this because if this freak decides to change her mind again, I will pack her shit for her and leave it in the driveway, and I really don't think I'm exaggerating on this. I have all the boxes from when I moved in still intact on the back porch, it will be REALLY easy to chuck anything that isn't mine into a box and walk it to the carport. The couches she will try to sell me she can drag out her damn self.
The worst of it is, I would have never thought of her moving out if she hadn't mentioned it so many times!!!! I would have told my people that her dog was a mess and we'd find something else to do besides hang out at my spacious naturally lit hardwood floored pad where we can hear the ocean waves and smell the ocean breeze!! We really really would have made Denny's the new cool place to hang!!! Since two days after I moved in, she has been talking about leaving and DAMN if I'm getting sick of all that hot air being blown in my face.
Come with me on this one...get on you're knees, put your hands together, close your eyes, and get the good thoughts of a Brut-mark-free Sassy, a well fed Sassy with a fridge full of meat that isn't earmarked for the dogs, a Sassy who can get ready for work in the morning in a full sized bathroom without a dog as her blowdryer, a Sassy who can come home from work without groaning when her roomie is there!!!!
I've already told the story 4 times in the last hour, but lucky for you I emailed it once so I'm just gonna copy and paste the long version and you can see just what a mental dump looks like.
**Somehow, my getting assaulted by 120 pounds of retarded hound dog every morning wasn't enough to drive Spaz over the edge... somehow when he gets his teeth around my hand every other time I come home, and him pouncing me, and chest pressing me, it wasn't THAT big of a deal... and with my best efforts to bring to her attention that this is a DOG we are dealing with and ASKING him IF he can sit and take a chewie for going hoarse yelling at me because I brush my hair before I go to work, she still insisted that the situation was just something to deal with.
So, I got bit yesterday morning. It's never hard, but the teeth marks my flesh red for a few hours and he is TRYING to grab at me when it happens. I yelled at him, raised my hand and nearly came down with a punch in the head, and yelled some more when he started howling at me - she didn't come flying downstairs to tell me not to use a harsh tone - I assumed she was in the shower because she INSISTS you coddle this mofo.
Last night, I come home, he screams his head off, jumps at me, and refuses to let me in even the 6 feet before I could escape upstairs. She is in the kitchen, talking baby talk to him, and I have scratch marks on my chest from his antics.
THEN, Sister comes in, maybe 3 minutes after me. He is still barking at me, turns around and there she is, he walks to bark at the wall, then bark out the window, then bark in the kitchen - he isn't even looking at her or me, just talking to mid air. We are all being nice, Sister takes 3 steps in the house, and he lunges at her.
I FLIP OUT. I grab his neck, yell loudly over his pathetic attempt at a believeable squeel, try to drag him to throw him outside, Spaz is trying to interceed, we are all in the hallway (with SuperAwsomeShortyPup underfoot trying to say hi in all the maylay)...
I am done fighting with this dog, Spaz takes him to the kitchen, the noise has stopped, Sister and I start upstairs with Shorty right behind us, Spaz is saying I should have warned her that my sister (who is over about 3 days a week at this point) was coming so she could have TOLD THE DOG we would have guests, I say "it is completely unacceptable that he bit me this morning, that I was mauled coming home, and that he was FINE with her for WEEKS and is now she gets bite marks every time she comes to the place I call home."
I checked my phone - I got a text from Sister saying she got to work on time, and a voicemail from Spaz saying "thats it. I can't have Brut attacking your sister like that. I'll find a place this weekend, and you guys can take over on the first, if that still works for you. ok, bye"
Right-o.
I like control.
I'd lost control.
I was grinding teeth that she said she would leave January first and then changed her mind. I just kept thinking that 2007 would be a great year and it will start ON NEW YEARS and BAM!!!
Apparently my getting bit every other day, and my sctached up chest from where he pounces me when I come home as he howls and yells and barks and snarls at me was OK to live with, but let my sister get this vicious attack was over her edge.
So, Sister was liking the idea of keeping her job 45 minutes away and staying where she is now and housesitting around the family for the month and moving in February first... how do I politely say that our screaming match last night and storming out and coming home at 2am was enough to get Spaz to fulfill my wildest happiest most perfect fruition of this goal and that she and I are paying January rent in TWO WEEKS?? **
I am asking for a little help - I need as many people as possible to get some good thoughts on this because if this freak decides to change her mind again, I will pack her shit for her and leave it in the driveway, and I really don't think I'm exaggerating on this. I have all the boxes from when I moved in still intact on the back porch, it will be REALLY easy to chuck anything that isn't mine into a box and walk it to the carport. The couches she will try to sell me she can drag out her damn self.
The worst of it is, I would have never thought of her moving out if she hadn't mentioned it so many times!!!! I would have told my people that her dog was a mess and we'd find something else to do besides hang out at my spacious naturally lit hardwood floored pad where we can hear the ocean waves and smell the ocean breeze!! We really really would have made Denny's the new cool place to hang!!! Since two days after I moved in, she has been talking about leaving and DAMN if I'm getting sick of all that hot air being blown in my face.
Come with me on this one...get on you're knees, put your hands together, close your eyes, and get the good thoughts of a Brut-mark-free Sassy, a well fed Sassy with a fridge full of meat that isn't earmarked for the dogs, a Sassy who can get ready for work in the morning in a full sized bathroom without a dog as her blowdryer, a Sassy who can come home from work without groaning when her roomie is there!!!!
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Yeah, Um, About That
I've decided to put my foot down.
If I don't have control over anything, the least I can do is CREATE situations where I have all KINDS of control.
Like in Lamer territory.
Seriously, I went to dinner with this guy twice a YEAR ago and he is CONVINCED that I'm 'the one' for him.
OK, so I was a sexy mamajama and I was all about getting laid last fall and I slept with him like 3 times.
And I'm not sure he knew I was dating Him last year (or Sexy this year).
And sure, I have lead him on by taking his calls (when I've been drinking, or when I'm hungry and half way to his place).
But I distinctly remember the conversation when he was trying to get me to Indianapolis (he lives there, he comes 'home' to visit in the slow season) and I said "I am not into you like you are into me, but if you want to fly me to a city I've never been to so you can show me around and try to woo me, I can come up with a weekend when that could work out".
No, you didn't miss the post where I traveled to middle America.
So I'm at work late last night, reading blogs and cleaning up my personal email, and I get a text from Tempura saying "hey, what are you up to tonight?"
Since it was dinner time, and I know everything at my house needs to be cooked (read:dinner is THAT much farther from being chowed), I called him and said I was hungry and asked if he was ready for dinner too.
OK, I caught INSTANTLY the desperation on him.
I played it cool.
I reminded him that he calls when he's bored, so we'd need to come up with something that WASN'T just sitting around being bored.
He said "alright, well, come on over, we can get some dinner in ya, then come on back and I can fuck the shit out of ya."
Right-o, lardass. I said "don't you remember the conversation we had about how I am NOT a walking cum receptical and how I am FUCKING SICK AND TIRED of being used that way? Besides, I'm not up for it, I've been masturbating all day so I'm cool."
Tempura: "oh, really..."
Sassy: "yes, really."
Tempura: "so I guess last time I really didn't, huh, well, ok."
Sassy: "you graded yourself a D+, I refused to comment. I am looking for dinner though, and you call me when you're bored, so if you want a distraction form the norm, I've got an hour I can spend with you."
Tempura: "an hour?? GEE, THANKS. ::under breath:: I guess I really didn't, wow..."
Sassy: "look, I've got a life here, I've got things to do, but I also need dinner, so if you're saying you don't want to buy me $8 in tacos again unless I'm gonna bend over for you, then I guess we've got an answer as to if I'm coming over or not."
Tempura: "I'm getting another call, can I call you back?"
Sassy: ::stunned silence::
Tempura: "hello? can I call you back?"
Sassy: "uh, k."
I got a text about an hour later that he went to a bbq at a friends place. I replied "I got my grub on too."
While he normally sucks at conversation, I'm thinking I've licked the Fuck-Off-I'm-Using-You envelope and am folding it over to be sealed on THAT particular straggling Lamer =)
So thats ALL my Mr. Lamers and Lamers Disguised by Other Names that I can fully expect to never hear from again (keeping their numbers in my phone only to be sure to avoid their calls in the future).
Its with this in mind that I'm dedicating myself to the idea that 2007 is going to be SUCH a good fucking year that I am now determined to cut baggage of yester-fuckup left and right...
1) Moving up at work so I can't say I've been 'only a receptionist' since college.
2) Telling any Lamers who may continue to call to Fuck Off in an outright statement, no matter how hungry or horny I am.
3) Getting the house in order so it feels like OUR place instead of HER place that I stay in.
4) Solidifying good relationships with healthy people who support me for who I am instead of who they want me to be.
5) The car is paid off, and if I work my ASS off in this new job I see no reason why I need to have ANY hanging debt (student loan is all I've got left) by this time next year. I want to be financially stable and have all my monthly commitments be things for ME - house down payment savings account, IRA, investment fund, travel savings account... the dreams grow on.
6) Planning things that I want to do, and not letting anyone fuck with the plans, because this is MY life and if I want to travel or go to dinner or see a band in a bar, I do not need a tag-along to have a good time (remember the fair?? yeah, its my new favorite memory on this point).
7) Maybe this Christmas visit will be my opportunity to look dad in the face and tell him that he needs to apologize for showing me how women are to be treated and explain that I will not allow his dogma to pollute my life anymore - and that means I can't talk to him until he grows up. Then I'll put his number in the Lamer catagory in my phone.
8) And maybe this visit I'll stop by Mom's gravesite and work on that a little more too.
Fine, you want a Top 10 list?? I know you do, hang on, lemme think.
9) I'll stop lying about how many candies I really accept from the coworkers and go to the fresh food market twice a week and commit to the idea that this is not my body's happy weight and that I can change who I've always been.
10) I'm gonna start taking what is coming to me - doctor visits comp'd by the company, as many days off as they pay for, gifts, treats, free lunches, doors held open for me - ANYTHING that means someone is doing something with my best interest in mind, I'll start to accept gracefully and document for reference so the Woe Is Me shit can take a back seat to the Whoa Look At Me bundles of joy Sassy reports.
Yes. Today is a better day. And the chocolate on chocolate cake is being served with Dryers Vanilla Bean ice cream and its about to get a whole lot better ;)
If I don't have control over anything, the least I can do is CREATE situations where I have all KINDS of control.
Like in Lamer territory.
Seriously, I went to dinner with this guy twice a YEAR ago and he is CONVINCED that I'm 'the one' for him.
OK, so I was a sexy mamajama and I was all about getting laid last fall and I slept with him like 3 times.
And I'm not sure he knew I was dating Him last year (or Sexy this year).
And sure, I have lead him on by taking his calls (when I've been drinking, or when I'm hungry and half way to his place).
But I distinctly remember the conversation when he was trying to get me to Indianapolis (he lives there, he comes 'home' to visit in the slow season) and I said "I am not into you like you are into me, but if you want to fly me to a city I've never been to so you can show me around and try to woo me, I can come up with a weekend when that could work out".
No, you didn't miss the post where I traveled to middle America.
So I'm at work late last night, reading blogs and cleaning up my personal email, and I get a text from Tempura saying "hey, what are you up to tonight?"
Since it was dinner time, and I know everything at my house needs to be cooked (read:dinner is THAT much farther from being chowed), I called him and said I was hungry and asked if he was ready for dinner too.
OK, I caught INSTANTLY the desperation on him.
I played it cool.
I reminded him that he calls when he's bored, so we'd need to come up with something that WASN'T just sitting around being bored.
He said "alright, well, come on over, we can get some dinner in ya, then come on back and I can fuck the shit out of ya."
Right-o, lardass. I said "don't you remember the conversation we had about how I am NOT a walking cum receptical and how I am FUCKING SICK AND TIRED of being used that way? Besides, I'm not up for it, I've been masturbating all day so I'm cool."
Tempura: "oh, really..."
Sassy: "yes, really."
Tempura: "so I guess last time I really didn't, huh, well, ok."
Sassy: "you graded yourself a D+, I refused to comment. I am looking for dinner though, and you call me when you're bored, so if you want a distraction form the norm, I've got an hour I can spend with you."
Tempura: "an hour?? GEE, THANKS. ::under breath:: I guess I really didn't, wow..."
Sassy: "look, I've got a life here, I've got things to do, but I also need dinner, so if you're saying you don't want to buy me $8 in tacos again unless I'm gonna bend over for you, then I guess we've got an answer as to if I'm coming over or not."
Tempura: "I'm getting another call, can I call you back?"
Sassy: ::stunned silence::
Tempura: "hello? can I call you back?"
Sassy: "uh, k."
I got a text about an hour later that he went to a bbq at a friends place. I replied "I got my grub on too."
While he normally sucks at conversation, I'm thinking I've licked the Fuck-Off-I'm-Using-You envelope and am folding it over to be sealed on THAT particular straggling Lamer =)
So thats ALL my Mr. Lamers and Lamers Disguised by Other Names that I can fully expect to never hear from again (keeping their numbers in my phone only to be sure to avoid their calls in the future).
Its with this in mind that I'm dedicating myself to the idea that 2007 is going to be SUCH a good fucking year that I am now determined to cut baggage of yester-fuckup left and right...
1) Moving up at work so I can't say I've been 'only a receptionist' since college.
2) Telling any Lamers who may continue to call to Fuck Off in an outright statement, no matter how hungry or horny I am.
3) Getting the house in order so it feels like OUR place instead of HER place that I stay in.
4) Solidifying good relationships with healthy people who support me for who I am instead of who they want me to be.
5) The car is paid off, and if I work my ASS off in this new job I see no reason why I need to have ANY hanging debt (student loan is all I've got left) by this time next year. I want to be financially stable and have all my monthly commitments be things for ME - house down payment savings account, IRA, investment fund, travel savings account... the dreams grow on.
6) Planning things that I want to do, and not letting anyone fuck with the plans, because this is MY life and if I want to travel or go to dinner or see a band in a bar, I do not need a tag-along to have a good time (remember the fair?? yeah, its my new favorite memory on this point).
7) Maybe this Christmas visit will be my opportunity to look dad in the face and tell him that he needs to apologize for showing me how women are to be treated and explain that I will not allow his dogma to pollute my life anymore - and that means I can't talk to him until he grows up. Then I'll put his number in the Lamer catagory in my phone.
8) And maybe this visit I'll stop by Mom's gravesite and work on that a little more too.
Fine, you want a Top 10 list?? I know you do, hang on, lemme think.
9) I'll stop lying about how many candies I really accept from the coworkers and go to the fresh food market twice a week and commit to the idea that this is not my body's happy weight and that I can change who I've always been.
10) I'm gonna start taking what is coming to me - doctor visits comp'd by the company, as many days off as they pay for, gifts, treats, free lunches, doors held open for me - ANYTHING that means someone is doing something with my best interest in mind, I'll start to accept gracefully and document for reference so the Woe Is Me shit can take a back seat to the Whoa Look At Me bundles of joy Sassy reports.
Yes. Today is a better day. And the chocolate on chocolate cake is being served with Dryers Vanilla Bean ice cream and its about to get a whole lot better ;)
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Control.
I have no control.
Period.
I don't even want to hear about the cosmic woes of how the world works or that its all a struggle now but it will get me to a higher place in life or that whatever doesn't kill me blah fuck'n blah bullshit.
The instant I think I know what the fuck is going on, anything outside my 3 foot personal space bubble changes at warp speed. I end up like Ashton Kutcher in The Butterfly Effect, looking around at the surroundings that LOOK familiar but I have to take a 10 second inventory of what is REALLY going on before making a move.
It used to be just one area of my life. It used to be that whenever Sister called I had to put on the UH HUH face and take it all in like I knew what she was talking about and just wait for enough details to spill and I'd see what we were working with.
Now-a-days, its every time I BLINK.
Work changes.
Co-workers change.
Schedules rearrange with no notification to the person who is supposed to WRITE the schedule.
Offices move.
Menus get rid of my favorite thing.
Stop lights adjust their timing.
My car's automatic seat is moved.
The dogs suddenly get along.
Spaz is asking about my day.
I'm buying NON-twist off BOTTLES of beer (and thrashing my hands trying to get it open with a lighter I had in my purse, but I don't smoke, and I've never gotten that to work anyway).
The bitch of it is, the more I tell people what I am expecting, the more shit hits the fan!!!!
Seriously, what the fuck is the point of saying "pick a holiday, Tday, ok, we'll do Tday and hibernate through December" if I'm going to get a call saying "I'm on the website and didn't know if I was buying one ticket or two... how many days are you taking off work for Christmas again? And we are doing Christmas dinner here, so we have to get back in time to have TWO Christmas celebrations!!"
I plan my day around a few reports getting run and a job shadow afternoon only to have my printer start spewing my reports because my boss thought she'd help me (or totally piss me off by not letting me do my job without hand holding and step'n all up in my sandbox and kicking shit around) and I have no idea what happened to the person I was going to scare away from taking over my position... I work my life in such a way that if I say I will do something I'll do it - you don't need to do it for me.
If I say I want to fuck and not plan a life together - I mean it, and I don't care how much you think I don't I'll never cave. If I tell you I'm not interested but you keep calling and I say I'm bored and desperate enough to let you buy me an $8 dinner it doesn't mean I like you more - it means I'm hungry and bored. If I tell you I am planning to kick out a roomie so you can move in I will actually start to make that happen - and my home will be uncomfortable until it all goes down. And if I am told that we are in agreement about how FUCKED UP our lives are with one particular person in them, I WILL find it demeaning and sickening and treason for you to corner me into having to NOT be called the "bitch who ruined our Christmas by selfishly NOT taking our offer to pay her spoiled way to be here with us because she would rather stay home and hide behind having a new job to plan for" - I will do what ever anyone else needs me to do in order to maintain the peace and take a Blogland bashing for it because I am a Libra and I think that sometime somewhere in any way someone will bend over to help ME get what I want.
But no - instead I am reminded of the days where Mom would pop ibuprofin so she could feel her legs during the car ride on her bad back to see grandparents I didn't meet until I was 12 years old... I think of the days she was told by the doctor that if she'd had the 4pm appointment instead of the noon that they might have to send her to the hospital to fix her and she smartly replied "well, thats why I came in at noon"... the nights I went to bed and she wasn't home from work and I woke up and she was back at the shop... I think of how she cried when she found out the medical insurance had been cancelled and know now that it was because she checked its policy only because she was coughing blood and wanted to get it checked out before it got THAT bad... and I remember the look on her face when I walked into that hospital room and she knew she wouldn't ever go home again - it was relief... and I think of how this was my role model, the person I aspire to be like, and wonder how long I can be pulled in different directions and asked to do all the compromising and get the rules changed on me as I'm charging the battle field before my body decides its been enough and starts to betray me like hers did.
Seriously fucked up around here ya'll.
I KNOW I'll be blaming the mass of this on Flo, but to get a call from Sister about the holiday flight plan while Boss is throwing me proprietary (read: SUPER IMPORTANT) stuff to file "with the other ones" and I can't put my mind on where those are because I've got 7 screens open on stuff I was trying to get done from THURSDAY'S emails and 4 piles of "to be done RIGHT NOW" papers in front of me... ooohhhhh, Sassy is grow'n some horns and I'm about to come up with some BULLSHIT of my own!!!
Hey - maybe if a bitch could get LAID it would be a tremendous relief... Tempura is NOT a worthy opponent and frankly I don't have the energy enough to go trolling for a new Stud. Think Freakazoid Auntie would pull out her catalog and buy Sassy something fun to play with for Christmas?? Or Sister could get me a gift certificate?? The additions to my Toy Chest that Sexy overdrew his account to get me are fun, but they were meant for play with 2 people and are a bit awkward when using alone. Fun, motorized, satisfying, but a bit awkward.
And really, with all the fucked up shit changing on me every gawd damned second around here, I am just about ready to call it quits when I can't even keep control over a vibrator!!!!
Maybe its time to get back to the quickies in the bathroom stall... well SHIT, that ain't gonna work because my fingers are all bandaged up from the NEED to have a brewskie NOW last night!!!
How about a beam of brilliant revelation that someday real soon I'll be able to take the dog for a walk and maybe LEAD for like 2 seconds of the hour??? Someone toss me a nugget of peace that in all this alone time at work maybe I'll not be slammed with other people doing my job or micro managing how I do it??? Perhaps a calming snuggle that holidays are BUILT around family and somehow this is for the better???????????
Or, someone ask for my address to drop ship me something to fuck me sideways so I'm so full of dopamine and endorphins that none of this makes a damn lick of difference to my soaring mood... and be sure there is a purse sized version too, I'm all about the mid day fix at this point.
Period.
I don't even want to hear about the cosmic woes of how the world works or that its all a struggle now but it will get me to a higher place in life or that whatever doesn't kill me blah fuck'n blah bullshit.
The instant I think I know what the fuck is going on, anything outside my 3 foot personal space bubble changes at warp speed. I end up like Ashton Kutcher in The Butterfly Effect, looking around at the surroundings that LOOK familiar but I have to take a 10 second inventory of what is REALLY going on before making a move.
It used to be just one area of my life. It used to be that whenever Sister called I had to put on the UH HUH face and take it all in like I knew what she was talking about and just wait for enough details to spill and I'd see what we were working with.
Now-a-days, its every time I BLINK.
Work changes.
Co-workers change.
Schedules rearrange with no notification to the person who is supposed to WRITE the schedule.
Offices move.
Menus get rid of my favorite thing.
Stop lights adjust their timing.
My car's automatic seat is moved.
The dogs suddenly get along.
Spaz is asking about my day.
I'm buying NON-twist off BOTTLES of beer (and thrashing my hands trying to get it open with a lighter I had in my purse, but I don't smoke, and I've never gotten that to work anyway).
The bitch of it is, the more I tell people what I am expecting, the more shit hits the fan!!!!
Seriously, what the fuck is the point of saying "pick a holiday, Tday, ok, we'll do Tday and hibernate through December" if I'm going to get a call saying "I'm on the website and didn't know if I was buying one ticket or two... how many days are you taking off work for Christmas again? And we are doing Christmas dinner here, so we have to get back in time to have TWO Christmas celebrations!!"
I plan my day around a few reports getting run and a job shadow afternoon only to have my printer start spewing my reports because my boss thought she'd help me (or totally piss me off by not letting me do my job without hand holding and step'n all up in my sandbox and kicking shit around) and I have no idea what happened to the person I was going to scare away from taking over my position... I work my life in such a way that if I say I will do something I'll do it - you don't need to do it for me.
If I say I want to fuck and not plan a life together - I mean it, and I don't care how much you think I don't I'll never cave. If I tell you I'm not interested but you keep calling and I say I'm bored and desperate enough to let you buy me an $8 dinner it doesn't mean I like you more - it means I'm hungry and bored. If I tell you I am planning to kick out a roomie so you can move in I will actually start to make that happen - and my home will be uncomfortable until it all goes down. And if I am told that we are in agreement about how FUCKED UP our lives are with one particular person in them, I WILL find it demeaning and sickening and treason for you to corner me into having to NOT be called the "bitch who ruined our Christmas by selfishly NOT taking our offer to pay her spoiled way to be here with us because she would rather stay home and hide behind having a new job to plan for" - I will do what ever anyone else needs me to do in order to maintain the peace and take a Blogland bashing for it because I am a Libra and I think that sometime somewhere in any way someone will bend over to help ME get what I want.
But no - instead I am reminded of the days where Mom would pop ibuprofin so she could feel her legs during the car ride on her bad back to see grandparents I didn't meet until I was 12 years old... I think of the days she was told by the doctor that if she'd had the 4pm appointment instead of the noon that they might have to send her to the hospital to fix her and she smartly replied "well, thats why I came in at noon"... the nights I went to bed and she wasn't home from work and I woke up and she was back at the shop... I think of how she cried when she found out the medical insurance had been cancelled and know now that it was because she checked its policy only because she was coughing blood and wanted to get it checked out before it got THAT bad... and I remember the look on her face when I walked into that hospital room and she knew she wouldn't ever go home again - it was relief... and I think of how this was my role model, the person I aspire to be like, and wonder how long I can be pulled in different directions and asked to do all the compromising and get the rules changed on me as I'm charging the battle field before my body decides its been enough and starts to betray me like hers did.
Seriously fucked up around here ya'll.
I KNOW I'll be blaming the mass of this on Flo, but to get a call from Sister about the holiday flight plan while Boss is throwing me proprietary (read: SUPER IMPORTANT) stuff to file "with the other ones" and I can't put my mind on where those are because I've got 7 screens open on stuff I was trying to get done from THURSDAY'S emails and 4 piles of "to be done RIGHT NOW" papers in front of me... ooohhhhh, Sassy is grow'n some horns and I'm about to come up with some BULLSHIT of my own!!!
Hey - maybe if a bitch could get LAID it would be a tremendous relief... Tempura is NOT a worthy opponent and frankly I don't have the energy enough to go trolling for a new Stud. Think Freakazoid Auntie would pull out her catalog and buy Sassy something fun to play with for Christmas?? Or Sister could get me a gift certificate?? The additions to my Toy Chest that Sexy overdrew his account to get me are fun, but they were meant for play with 2 people and are a bit awkward when using alone. Fun, motorized, satisfying, but a bit awkward.
And really, with all the fucked up shit changing on me every gawd damned second around here, I am just about ready to call it quits when I can't even keep control over a vibrator!!!!
Maybe its time to get back to the quickies in the bathroom stall... well SHIT, that ain't gonna work because my fingers are all bandaged up from the NEED to have a brewskie NOW last night!!!
How about a beam of brilliant revelation that someday real soon I'll be able to take the dog for a walk and maybe LEAD for like 2 seconds of the hour??? Someone toss me a nugget of peace that in all this alone time at work maybe I'll not be slammed with other people doing my job or micro managing how I do it??? Perhaps a calming snuggle that holidays are BUILT around family and somehow this is for the better???????????
Or, someone ask for my address to drop ship me something to fuck me sideways so I'm so full of dopamine and endorphins that none of this makes a damn lick of difference to my soaring mood... and be sure there is a purse sized version too, I'm all about the mid day fix at this point.
Monday, December 11, 2006
How Was YOUR Weekend?
Mine started early - I went to tell my boss I was leaving for lunch, asked if it would be the WORST thing if I didn't come back, and she said "if your sick, your sick, we'll cover the phones, go ahead."
Sweet.
I run some errands before I head home... I can't get through the voice mail prompts at the car loan bank so I drive up the road to the super fucked up parking lot and wait in the 13 person line and finally get asked up to the counter and I tell the guy "I have 2 things today - one I need to change my address you have on file (he says he can't do that - gives me the number to the VOICE MAIL JAIL!!!!), and two I need you to pull up my account and see exactly, to the penny, what I owe on my car loan so I can write you the PERFECT check right here and now and get my pink slip in my stocking."
He was more thrilled than I was - I was calmly writing my check, getting all the I's dotted and T's crossed and he was over there telling his manager "man, she is paying this off RIGHT NOW!! I remember when I paid my car off, it was such a relief, and here she is on her lunch break just getting it done! New year without a car payment, how good does THAT FEEL!!!"
Right, so I get him a qualude and get my stupid phone number (that I can NOT get through to find a person or extention that can help me with this fucking address change!!! Another trip to that place and a planted ass with the New Accounts Bitch who HAS access to the internal workings of accounts so my Pink Slip goes to MY house, not my EX house).
Alright, so after all that excitement of standing in line and draining my checking account only to worry about where my SO FUCKING EXPENSIVE peice of paper will go...
Traffic to get on the freeway, construction on my offramp with no notice so that was a nice 15 minutes waiting in line to get to the other parking lot - my street that they were actually working on and blocked the turn lane off the freeway to get the conjestion more organized.
Whatever, I'm not too pissed, cuz I don't have a timeline anymore, I'm sick and taking the afternoon off.
Right, so I get in the house, tell my super thrilled pupster to relax before she squeels her eyeballs out and twitches her tail off, leave a trail of discarded clothing on the steps as I change into something more tolerable, trip on the whole lot of it as I gracefully tumble back down to find some chow, then distract the pups with some edible nonsense so I could take my tennies to the beach before the chill of dusk set in.
Yep, brought my phone. Yep, got death threats for sending live action shots of what I was looking at on a Friday afternoon to a snowed in chilled sicky (Sorry Stace, it just had to be done). Told Dad of the promotion, got a "oh, are we happy about that?" before the "did your sister tell you that your 82 year old grandma that you were named after is back in the hospital this week? yeah, so if this turns south you guys might think about coming back up, but I didn't want it to be too much of a surprise, so, ok, well, I've got the prime rib cooking for the party we have in 3 hours so thanks for calling."
No comments on the fuckhead of a pops I've got. I KNOW. I. Fucking. Know.
Something about having a rocky family foundation and every guy I date having shitty dads or relationships with their dads or needing to be their dad complexes (I've cared hard for 2, thats TWO, Juniors)... well, I'm solidifying my lack of need for men in my life because somehow the backstabbing PMSing overly dramatic romantic comedy turned slaughter house thriller roller coaster that is my female relationships sounds much more healthy than this non-chalant shit storm use abuse negligent smile and tell her she's pretty to get her to talk to you again even though she is your backup chick and you only call her when your address book has already been called and she will find out through the grapevine of family deaths or relocations or from the new girlfriend picking up my phone that shit in her world just got rocked.
OK, so I've got this going through me as I'm trapsing through the sand and toward the lovely little walkable Oh My Fucking Goodness Of Visual Thrilling Stimulation that is Surfer's Point... sure, the ones who could be surfing at 4pm were older or in high school, but watching a wetsuited form manipulate that board through the crashing swell of white powerful Mother Earth was just... well, give me a second, I need just one more second...
Yeah, so I didn't kill myself tripping on the rocks as I snapped some cool ass storm coming in pics OR when I winked profusely at anyone walking toward me. GO ME. (I'd post the pics but my email hasn't registered that I've sent them from my phone yet, FUCK if I have to deal with another call to the cell phone company to have them fix my damn text!!!!)
OK, so Sister comes out for the night. Its high times as we roll into blockbuster, then across the street to sushi, then back to drink heavily (add creme de menthe to whatever creamy yumminess you are drinking this season, sets the mood instantly ;) ) and see how much of a movie we can watch while fighting a kaluha coma.
Bliss.
Had an appointment at this really fucking cool deal of a pawn shop coalition kinda place... I need BUSINESS SUITS for the new job and they will give you, GIVE YOU, 4 on your first visit, then 2 more after you start the job!!! ROCK. So Sister and I played "take these back, find me something to go with this coat, what about shoes to match, how fucking CUTE am I in this REAL VINTAGE black on black satin get up, oh and how about this divine pale blue number with the matching lace top and the scarf as an accent" at the upscale thrift store where everything was FREE, toured Santa Barbara, stopped for some yumminess at the farmer's market, came home and walked the pup before she took off for work and I commenced to finish a liquor bottle ;)
OK, whatever the fuck is going on at Sister/Freakazoid Aunt's house, I have no detailed clue. I can tell you that its enough to have my sister call after her Saturday night shift and almost beg for me to invite her back to my place, get in the car at 10pm during a torrential rain storm with flash flood warnings and no visibility for about an hour so she could get AWAY from THAT.
Yes, I handed her a shot of what I was having as she walked in the door.
Yes, I know I'm fucking awsome =)
Can't really remember what we hot chicks did with ourselves that stormy night... some movie that we weren't into, some chatting, lots of drinking and we were up in the morning listening to the drain pipes drip and comparing dream notes before rolling over and passing out again. LOVE SUNDAYS. We had shots with our coffee as we cooked all the veggies we bought at the market, chowed with the dogs truely envious of our culinary abilities with foods we've never seen before (oh, and beets will make your next 2 days to the toilet SCREAMWORTHY, but ladies you didn't start your period 2 weeks early and men you won't need a q-tip up there, its just the beets, you are now more antioxidized than ever before and no the one trip isn't enough to get the red out, it WILL be there to get you screaming and checking for Freddy Kruger marks in the nether regions in the morning too - but coated in olive oil and baked at 425 for an hour they are SO DAMN TASTY you will forgo the knot on your head from the shock/jerk of the sight of the pool of red and you WILL eat the left overs for dinner), had a fine time divying up makeup and lotions before she was back off to work 45 minutes away.
Yeah, I continued to drink, thanks for asking! Travel mug, ice, lovely heating devices, a leash around my neck and the SO UBER EXCITED Shortstack and I were meandering for over an hour about our barely puddled neighborhood before she and I needed a nap. LOVE SUNDAYS, did I say that yet? Oh, can I also mention how much more fun it is to play with toys when you have the house to yourself??? Yeah, THOSE toys. Yeah, THAT much more fun.
Nap, phone calls, laughs at the freakish kiddy Christmas stuff on TV, some crafting while watching a show I actually might choose if I had more than 1 channel, and before I knew it the 11pm news was on! Somehow that left me with a journal entry (yeah, been a while since I put the pen to paper, but sometimes its the OTHER free therapy), a dream diary entry (Matthew McConaughey, dating, cooking, kissing, its all good stuff behind these eyes of mine), and a few pages of a book read and DAMN its 1:30am!!!
Did you follow that??? 2 days of pretty heavy drinking and I'm up til 1:30am the night before the 7 :45am FUCKASS Monday Morning Meeting!!!!
Lawdy Lawdy, and what a fucked Monday we've been having - just NOTHING getting done!!!
Lets put it this way, when your coworker is at the snack shack before 9am looking for a chocolate fix and tosses you a tube of Rolos "for later, you'll need it, trust me"... not ok.
Oh, and what the FUCK is with be STARVING all.the.fucking.time??? I wanted to try some diet pills this week but the meeting put a crunch on the "take 30 minutes before eating" stipulation so I'm on plain ol' caffeine today and somehow the fruit and veggies and beef with brocolli lunch and oatmeal breakfast and trail mix snack all has me LUNGING for the fridge in search of ANYTHING to chow on... is this what dieting is really gonna take?? Will I really just have to be hungry for 4 months to get this beer gut - the one that has my shirts have a CREASE where my waistband folds my feminine chub - to melt away????
Oh, wait, maybe I can make it to surfers point every day... surely some of them are out past dark, its further than the pier, and if I'm walking instead of running I won't need to strap down the Girls to the point of unrecognizeable femininity... hhmmm... snack on nothing but farmers market yummies and go find a surfer to wink at nightly... maybe the REAL beach girl in me is emerging...
Sweet.
I run some errands before I head home... I can't get through the voice mail prompts at the car loan bank so I drive up the road to the super fucked up parking lot and wait in the 13 person line and finally get asked up to the counter and I tell the guy "I have 2 things today - one I need to change my address you have on file (he says he can't do that - gives me the number to the VOICE MAIL JAIL!!!!), and two I need you to pull up my account and see exactly, to the penny, what I owe on my car loan so I can write you the PERFECT check right here and now and get my pink slip in my stocking."
He was more thrilled than I was - I was calmly writing my check, getting all the I's dotted and T's crossed and he was over there telling his manager "man, she is paying this off RIGHT NOW!! I remember when I paid my car off, it was such a relief, and here she is on her lunch break just getting it done! New year without a car payment, how good does THAT FEEL!!!"
Right, so I get him a qualude and get my stupid phone number (that I can NOT get through to find a person or extention that can help me with this fucking address change!!! Another trip to that place and a planted ass with the New Accounts Bitch who HAS access to the internal workings of accounts so my Pink Slip goes to MY house, not my EX house).
Alright, so after all that excitement of standing in line and draining my checking account only to worry about where my SO FUCKING EXPENSIVE peice of paper will go...
Traffic to get on the freeway, construction on my offramp with no notice so that was a nice 15 minutes waiting in line to get to the other parking lot - my street that they were actually working on and blocked the turn lane off the freeway to get the conjestion more organized.
Whatever, I'm not too pissed, cuz I don't have a timeline anymore, I'm sick and taking the afternoon off.
Right, so I get in the house, tell my super thrilled pupster to relax before she squeels her eyeballs out and twitches her tail off, leave a trail of discarded clothing on the steps as I change into something more tolerable, trip on the whole lot of it as I gracefully tumble back down to find some chow, then distract the pups with some edible nonsense so I could take my tennies to the beach before the chill of dusk set in.
Yep, brought my phone. Yep, got death threats for sending live action shots of what I was looking at on a Friday afternoon to a snowed in chilled sicky (Sorry Stace, it just had to be done). Told Dad of the promotion, got a "oh, are we happy about that?" before the "did your sister tell you that your 82 year old grandma that you were named after is back in the hospital this week? yeah, so if this turns south you guys might think about coming back up, but I didn't want it to be too much of a surprise, so, ok, well, I've got the prime rib cooking for the party we have in 3 hours so thanks for calling."
No comments on the fuckhead of a pops I've got. I KNOW. I. Fucking. Know.
Something about having a rocky family foundation and every guy I date having shitty dads or relationships with their dads or needing to be their dad complexes (I've cared hard for 2, thats TWO, Juniors)... well, I'm solidifying my lack of need for men in my life because somehow the backstabbing PMSing overly dramatic romantic comedy turned slaughter house thriller roller coaster that is my female relationships sounds much more healthy than this non-chalant shit storm use abuse negligent smile and tell her she's pretty to get her to talk to you again even though she is your backup chick and you only call her when your address book has already been called and she will find out through the grapevine of family deaths or relocations or from the new girlfriend picking up my phone that shit in her world just got rocked.
OK, so I've got this going through me as I'm trapsing through the sand and toward the lovely little walkable Oh My Fucking Goodness Of Visual Thrilling Stimulation that is Surfer's Point... sure, the ones who could be surfing at 4pm were older or in high school, but watching a wetsuited form manipulate that board through the crashing swell of white powerful Mother Earth was just... well, give me a second, I need just one more second...
Yeah, so I didn't kill myself tripping on the rocks as I snapped some cool ass storm coming in pics OR when I winked profusely at anyone walking toward me. GO ME. (I'd post the pics but my email hasn't registered that I've sent them from my phone yet, FUCK if I have to deal with another call to the cell phone company to have them fix my damn text!!!!)
OK, so Sister comes out for the night. Its high times as we roll into blockbuster, then across the street to sushi, then back to drink heavily (add creme de menthe to whatever creamy yumminess you are drinking this season, sets the mood instantly ;) ) and see how much of a movie we can watch while fighting a kaluha coma.
Bliss.
Had an appointment at this really fucking cool deal of a pawn shop coalition kinda place... I need BUSINESS SUITS for the new job and they will give you, GIVE YOU, 4 on your first visit, then 2 more after you start the job!!! ROCK. So Sister and I played "take these back, find me something to go with this coat, what about shoes to match, how fucking CUTE am I in this REAL VINTAGE black on black satin get up, oh and how about this divine pale blue number with the matching lace top and the scarf as an accent" at the upscale thrift store where everything was FREE, toured Santa Barbara, stopped for some yumminess at the farmer's market, came home and walked the pup before she took off for work and I commenced to finish a liquor bottle ;)
OK, whatever the fuck is going on at Sister/Freakazoid Aunt's house, I have no detailed clue. I can tell you that its enough to have my sister call after her Saturday night shift and almost beg for me to invite her back to my place, get in the car at 10pm during a torrential rain storm with flash flood warnings and no visibility for about an hour so she could get AWAY from THAT.
Yes, I handed her a shot of what I was having as she walked in the door.
Yes, I know I'm fucking awsome =)
Can't really remember what we hot chicks did with ourselves that stormy night... some movie that we weren't into, some chatting, lots of drinking and we were up in the morning listening to the drain pipes drip and comparing dream notes before rolling over and passing out again. LOVE SUNDAYS. We had shots with our coffee as we cooked all the veggies we bought at the market, chowed with the dogs truely envious of our culinary abilities with foods we've never seen before (oh, and beets will make your next 2 days to the toilet SCREAMWORTHY, but ladies you didn't start your period 2 weeks early and men you won't need a q-tip up there, its just the beets, you are now more antioxidized than ever before and no the one trip isn't enough to get the red out, it WILL be there to get you screaming and checking for Freddy Kruger marks in the nether regions in the morning too - but coated in olive oil and baked at 425 for an hour they are SO DAMN TASTY you will forgo the knot on your head from the shock/jerk of the sight of the pool of red and you WILL eat the left overs for dinner), had a fine time divying up makeup and lotions before she was back off to work 45 minutes away.
Yeah, I continued to drink, thanks for asking! Travel mug, ice, lovely heating devices, a leash around my neck and the SO UBER EXCITED Shortstack and I were meandering for over an hour about our barely puddled neighborhood before she and I needed a nap. LOVE SUNDAYS, did I say that yet? Oh, can I also mention how much more fun it is to play with toys when you have the house to yourself??? Yeah, THOSE toys. Yeah, THAT much more fun.
Nap, phone calls, laughs at the freakish kiddy Christmas stuff on TV, some crafting while watching a show I actually might choose if I had more than 1 channel, and before I knew it the 11pm news was on! Somehow that left me with a journal entry (yeah, been a while since I put the pen to paper, but sometimes its the OTHER free therapy), a dream diary entry (Matthew McConaughey, dating, cooking, kissing, its all good stuff behind these eyes of mine), and a few pages of a book read and DAMN its 1:30am!!!
Did you follow that??? 2 days of pretty heavy drinking and I'm up til 1:30am the night before the 7 :45am FUCKASS Monday Morning Meeting!!!!
Lawdy Lawdy, and what a fucked Monday we've been having - just NOTHING getting done!!!
Lets put it this way, when your coworker is at the snack shack before 9am looking for a chocolate fix and tosses you a tube of Rolos "for later, you'll need it, trust me"... not ok.
Oh, and what the FUCK is with be STARVING all.the.fucking.time??? I wanted to try some diet pills this week but the meeting put a crunch on the "take 30 minutes before eating" stipulation so I'm on plain ol' caffeine today and somehow the fruit and veggies and beef with brocolli lunch and oatmeal breakfast and trail mix snack all has me LUNGING for the fridge in search of ANYTHING to chow on... is this what dieting is really gonna take?? Will I really just have to be hungry for 4 months to get this beer gut - the one that has my shirts have a CREASE where my waistband folds my feminine chub - to melt away????
Oh, wait, maybe I can make it to surfers point every day... surely some of them are out past dark, its further than the pier, and if I'm walking instead of running I won't need to strap down the Girls to the point of unrecognizeable femininity... hhmmm... snack on nothing but farmers market yummies and go find a surfer to wink at nightly... maybe the REAL beach girl in me is emerging...
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Building Up
Special thanks to Jamie for his comment. I appreciate you offering your story and reminding me of mine, it really doesn't seem real to read that and know it was me, even though I typed it from this very seat. It got me thinking...
You know when you watch the waves lapping at the sand, how there is the ebb and flow of the water against the earth, and at some point you realize the tide is coming in and the water is continuing the routine of back and forth but the overall gain over the earth is measureable in just a few minutes??
OK, now, it does the same thing when the tide is going out... the regular back and forth, but the noticeable retreat back into itself after its gobbled up your sand castle and footprints and left its trail of seaweed as the marker of its most outward stretch.
Here is the trick - there is a time when you can watch the sea as the tide is going out when the ebb and flow of the rhythmic roll seems to plateau. Like it is relaxed. Like it is glad that the turmoil of reaching toward the mountains is over and it can just be, just rock a little, maybe lick its wounds, and breathe a minute before it gets back to it. The waves are low and slow, doing nothing but what they do, not trying, not achieving, not racing back to the mass of water, just lapping softly. Its like watching a baby sleep to see how comfortable this part of the cycle is.
Somehow, when I witness this, I picture Mother Earth taking her moment alone to focus and ready herself for tomorrow's rolling of the tide, tomorrow's struggle to go farther than she did today, tomorrow's new challenges. I see her building her reserves of strength, getting her affirmations ready, remembering how to stand up straight and telling herself that there is no other way to be but proactive so just understand this is how it works and you will do it all again, but not til tomorrow.
I've been in the reach out and retreat cycle for many many years now, thinking the work I do on myself is for the purpose of getting people in my world... and as soon as ONE PERSON shows up I stop thinking of myself and get distracted by them. If lots of people get drawn into my world, I have even more reason to focus elsewhere. And then, I fall back onto myself, letting them all go, and wait patiently for the self nurturing moment of pause to return, and know that I must understand that struggles are part of how life goes and hope that the next time I put myself out there, that I fiercely proactively put myself into the world, I remember that I don't have to neglect myself to do it.
Well, I'm pulling back. I've left my mark, I'm satisfied with these efforts, I've embarassed myself and am ashamed that I continue to repeat these same follies on every attempt to take on the world and have a whole new handful of things I will take with me to my comfort zone to polish up for my return to the big bad world.
I start my new job January 8th, after one week of training my replacement starting January 1st.
Sister and Spaz are both of the idea that a roomie change January first is a bit soon, so that is penciled in for February.
I'm sending my check to pay off the car today. The pink slip might make it to me by Christmas.
I'm wasting some TV time zoned out with Lamer's of various degrees, finding out how to sit politely through dinner and not reach for my wallet, remembering how to get a guy begging for my number in 15 minutes, learning how to gently remove his tongue from my mouth and request that we learn each others names before he tries it again, and overall getting over my rebound guy.
I'm enjoying every second of having an old dog, letting her lead the way to new blocks in our neighborhood, dancing to the iPod tunes on the sidewalk as she meanders on people's lawns.
Once the benifits kick in, I'll make an appointment day to get me checked up on - teeth cleaned, vagina probed, moles checked, spine aligned, psyche scrambled.
In the mean time, I take a moment each morning to listen for the ocean waves. I remember that some things are just bigger than me, that its always happening no matter how I feel about it or what I do to try to gain control of it. Then I jump into the shower and prepare to use my natural ebb and flo to work my way just one more inch of difference over yesterday's mark on the world.
You know when you watch the waves lapping at the sand, how there is the ebb and flow of the water against the earth, and at some point you realize the tide is coming in and the water is continuing the routine of back and forth but the overall gain over the earth is measureable in just a few minutes??
OK, now, it does the same thing when the tide is going out... the regular back and forth, but the noticeable retreat back into itself after its gobbled up your sand castle and footprints and left its trail of seaweed as the marker of its most outward stretch.
Here is the trick - there is a time when you can watch the sea as the tide is going out when the ebb and flow of the rhythmic roll seems to plateau. Like it is relaxed. Like it is glad that the turmoil of reaching toward the mountains is over and it can just be, just rock a little, maybe lick its wounds, and breathe a minute before it gets back to it. The waves are low and slow, doing nothing but what they do, not trying, not achieving, not racing back to the mass of water, just lapping softly. Its like watching a baby sleep to see how comfortable this part of the cycle is.
Somehow, when I witness this, I picture Mother Earth taking her moment alone to focus and ready herself for tomorrow's rolling of the tide, tomorrow's struggle to go farther than she did today, tomorrow's new challenges. I see her building her reserves of strength, getting her affirmations ready, remembering how to stand up straight and telling herself that there is no other way to be but proactive so just understand this is how it works and you will do it all again, but not til tomorrow.
I'm taking notice that I operate in a similar fashion - very consistently doing the same back and forth, but with ever increasingly gains over where I haven't been, followed by the curling into myself to ready for the next round of accomplishments.
I've been in the reach out and retreat cycle for many many years now, thinking the work I do on myself is for the purpose of getting people in my world... and as soon as ONE PERSON shows up I stop thinking of myself and get distracted by them. If lots of people get drawn into my world, I have even more reason to focus elsewhere. And then, I fall back onto myself, letting them all go, and wait patiently for the self nurturing moment of pause to return, and know that I must understand that struggles are part of how life goes and hope that the next time I put myself out there, that I fiercely proactively put myself into the world, I remember that I don't have to neglect myself to do it.
Well, I'm pulling back. I've left my mark, I'm satisfied with these efforts, I've embarassed myself and am ashamed that I continue to repeat these same follies on every attempt to take on the world and have a whole new handful of things I will take with me to my comfort zone to polish up for my return to the big bad world.
I start my new job January 8th, after one week of training my replacement starting January 1st.
Sister and Spaz are both of the idea that a roomie change January first is a bit soon, so that is penciled in for February.
I'm sending my check to pay off the car today. The pink slip might make it to me by Christmas.
I'm wasting some TV time zoned out with Lamer's of various degrees, finding out how to sit politely through dinner and not reach for my wallet, remembering how to get a guy begging for my number in 15 minutes, learning how to gently remove his tongue from my mouth and request that we learn each others names before he tries it again, and overall getting over my rebound guy.
I'm enjoying every second of having an old dog, letting her lead the way to new blocks in our neighborhood, dancing to the iPod tunes on the sidewalk as she meanders on people's lawns.
Once the benifits kick in, I'll make an appointment day to get me checked up on - teeth cleaned, vagina probed, moles checked, spine aligned, psyche scrambled.
In the mean time, I take a moment each morning to listen for the ocean waves. I remember that some things are just bigger than me, that its always happening no matter how I feel about it or what I do to try to gain control of it. Then I jump into the shower and prepare to use my natural ebb and flo to work my way just one more inch of difference over yesterday's mark on the world.
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Stupid Is...
I'm agast this morning.
I was at the office terrifically late last night, and back in 20 minutes early today.
I am SWAMPED with time sensitive projects that will demand my utmost attention to detail and the clock for the entirety of the day.
Somehow, I have GOT to get this thought off my mind to deal with my workload.
I have often said how alike My Gorgeous Girl and I are... big smiles, round in the belly but in a totally OK and actually cute way, friendly to everyone but especially friendly men, easily distracted by whatever is going on in the kitchen, equally ready for a run on the beach or a road trip or a nap.
Now, what am I supposed to think about Brut and Spaz when I wake up at 4am to the sounds of a choking, gagging, yacking dog in my hallway? When SugarBear starts to ralph something up, I take her outside, she vomits or coughs until she has to pee, walks over to the water dish, and we go back to bed. This one left her dog in the hallway (or couldn't move or persuade him anywhere else) for HOURS, having me and SweetiePea crawling farther and farther under the mass of pillows (yes, Shortster actually burrowed a tunnel to sleep in) so we didn't have to hear the vile sound of a digestive tract in reverse. Come 6am I am done with this bullshit of rolling over every 10 minutes to the sound of a hollow raspy hawking followed by the gurgling roll of a mouth with no cheeks spitting up whatever it can. I get out of my cocoon of blankets and get hit in the bare tocks with the cool air stream of my 2" open window, throw on a robe and slippers, and catch Spaz coming out of her room with a "good morning, isn't he so annoying? He got into a box of cookies last night and has been choking on them ever since! Do you have any bread in your room? I'm trying to get him to eat something to dislodge it..."
Thats as far as she got before I had turned on my heel, disrobed, and crawled back in bed to love all over my Boogie for being such a good fucking dog.
Realizing my timing, I knew going to sleep for one more hour would do more harm than good so I started a leisurely morning routine. Not two seconds after the shower water shuts off I have Spaz yelling through the door asking if I thought milk or pudding would be a better help to her fucking retarded dog - I said into my towel "maybe if he would drink WATER the crumbs would move off his tonsil and we could relax".
This mother fucker didn't get his walk on the beach for 2 hours today, he was too busy being made rice and eating white bread and lapping up tapioca pudding cups and being spoon fed cottage cheese... apparently white food helps the throat out of such a crisis. With all this happening when he is normally bounding into ocean waves, he spent the majority of his time NOT EATING this food she ran to the store to buy but rather HOWLING at my Little Buggie Bear for finding all these treats fair game, then running over to the open bathroom door where I was smearing my face with HideTheZit and smoothing my hair with FuckThisWind as fast as possible for I KNEW he would be surprised as fuck to see me there and get his nose on my tailbone before YELLING at me that he was happy to see I hadn't left yet.
Yeah.
So I am sitting here baffled that my Sweets can know that this dog is faking dying for attention to the point of not even caring he is chucking loogies all over the carpet and probably onto my door, that she can sit at the edge of the kitchen and patiently wait to be tossed the yumminess of the day, that she cares not that Spaz won't let me give her the medication that keeps her walking or even refill her food dish... basically I am in awe of my Baby's ability to be the rad-est (yes, I said RAD) dog and this fucking beast of a monstrosity of an overgrown freak has this full grown tax paying job having car driving citizen in good standing human being RUNNING to the store to buy $30 in food that she NEVER EATS to help her tard dog SWALLOW.
I.Just.Can't.Get.Over.It.
Also, it dawned on me that if Spaz wants to put off moving and Sister thinks thats a good idea (read: one more month to waffle before leaving me stranded in a lease), maybe BatDog and I will find a studio since they both think I can afford that much rent anyway. I mean fuck, whats another move at this point and DAMN am I FUCKING DONE with this kind of bullshit in my day!
I was at the office terrifically late last night, and back in 20 minutes early today.
I am SWAMPED with time sensitive projects that will demand my utmost attention to detail and the clock for the entirety of the day.
Somehow, I have GOT to get this thought off my mind to deal with my workload.
I have often said how alike My Gorgeous Girl and I are... big smiles, round in the belly but in a totally OK and actually cute way, friendly to everyone but especially friendly men, easily distracted by whatever is going on in the kitchen, equally ready for a run on the beach or a road trip or a nap.
Now, what am I supposed to think about Brut and Spaz when I wake up at 4am to the sounds of a choking, gagging, yacking dog in my hallway? When SugarBear starts to ralph something up, I take her outside, she vomits or coughs until she has to pee, walks over to the water dish, and we go back to bed. This one left her dog in the hallway (or couldn't move or persuade him anywhere else) for HOURS, having me and SweetiePea crawling farther and farther under the mass of pillows (yes, Shortster actually burrowed a tunnel to sleep in) so we didn't have to hear the vile sound of a digestive tract in reverse. Come 6am I am done with this bullshit of rolling over every 10 minutes to the sound of a hollow raspy hawking followed by the gurgling roll of a mouth with no cheeks spitting up whatever it can. I get out of my cocoon of blankets and get hit in the bare tocks with the cool air stream of my 2" open window, throw on a robe and slippers, and catch Spaz coming out of her room with a "good morning, isn't he so annoying? He got into a box of cookies last night and has been choking on them ever since! Do you have any bread in your room? I'm trying to get him to eat something to dislodge it..."
Thats as far as she got before I had turned on my heel, disrobed, and crawled back in bed to love all over my Boogie for being such a good fucking dog.
Realizing my timing, I knew going to sleep for one more hour would do more harm than good so I started a leisurely morning routine. Not two seconds after the shower water shuts off I have Spaz yelling through the door asking if I thought milk or pudding would be a better help to her fucking retarded dog - I said into my towel "maybe if he would drink WATER the crumbs would move off his tonsil and we could relax".
This mother fucker didn't get his walk on the beach for 2 hours today, he was too busy being made rice and eating white bread and lapping up tapioca pudding cups and being spoon fed cottage cheese... apparently white food helps the throat out of such a crisis. With all this happening when he is normally bounding into ocean waves, he spent the majority of his time NOT EATING this food she ran to the store to buy but rather HOWLING at my Little Buggie Bear for finding all these treats fair game, then running over to the open bathroom door where I was smearing my face with HideTheZit and smoothing my hair with FuckThisWind as fast as possible for I KNEW he would be surprised as fuck to see me there and get his nose on my tailbone before YELLING at me that he was happy to see I hadn't left yet.
Yeah.
So I am sitting here baffled that my Sweets can know that this dog is faking dying for attention to the point of not even caring he is chucking loogies all over the carpet and probably onto my door, that she can sit at the edge of the kitchen and patiently wait to be tossed the yumminess of the day, that she cares not that Spaz won't let me give her the medication that keeps her walking or even refill her food dish... basically I am in awe of my Baby's ability to be the rad-est (yes, I said RAD) dog and this fucking beast of a monstrosity of an overgrown freak has this full grown tax paying job having car driving citizen in good standing human being RUNNING to the store to buy $30 in food that she NEVER EATS to help her tard dog SWALLOW.
I.Just.Can't.Get.Over.It.
Also, it dawned on me that if Spaz wants to put off moving and Sister thinks thats a good idea (read: one more month to waffle before leaving me stranded in a lease), maybe BatDog and I will find a studio since they both think I can afford that much rent anyway. I mean fuck, whats another move at this point and DAMN am I FUCKING DONE with this kind of bullshit in my day!
Monday, December 04, 2006
Crock of Shit
Look at ME!!!
Two posts in one day??!?!?!?
Well, I just despised myself for the last one, so I had to update, but I couldn't edit the last one because this is a totally different train of thought.
OK, not really, but I didn't want to ruin the gloom of the last one with a suger induced twitch fit of mild normalcy. Follow all that??
So this is what happened - I vented to my friends. I went to lunch. I had chocolate cake while waiting for my tri tip topped salad. YUM and a HALF. I just love this BBQ place and they now LOVE ME cuz I'm in there like at least once a week (ouch on the wallet, but OH YEAH to the satisfaction from a lunch break). Talked MORE to my friends. Got some closure on some stuff at work - nothing I started my day thinking I would be doing, but at least these little projects wouldn't haunt 2 days. Call to Techie, he is in a Super Sugarfied Sassy mood, we yuck it up for a good 20 minutes as he checks on this ticket and that and helps me with 2 things that came up while I had him on the line. We hung up and I had... yep... a little one but it was surely a specimen... a little smile was lingering on my lips.
Well fuck me sideways, I was happier than a pack of boy scouts at a pie eating contest to find that my face hurt from turning UP instead of sliding DOWN.
The nagging depressive tugged my ear, asking if this wasn't another case of the co-dependent getting her fix of someone who sees her as a female with all her perks and I told that little whinny bitch to shut up and wait her turn for another trip on the Psychotic Freak Mobile. I told that devil horned monster that 4 days a week she had control and that was entirely too much of my time and that this whisp of a smile was going to be coaxed and coddled until it was a full blown real happiness even if it only lasts for a minute because 2 days of tears and snot and hiding and avoiding is plenty enough to warrent the enjoyment of hearing the exasserbated reaction of a Skittle falling from a friends mouth and leaving an orange streak down his baby blue shirt. I nursed that little smile, that aching unfamiliar burst of spontaneous muscle contraction to health... and so far, the little devil bitch has decided my betrayal of her evil forces is a crock of shit and she has gone into hiding.
So, I've asked him about 47 times if he'd join me, but do you think a trip to Hawaii is thanks enough to Techie for facilitating such a quick recovery?
Two posts in one day??!?!?!?
Well, I just despised myself for the last one, so I had to update, but I couldn't edit the last one because this is a totally different train of thought.
OK, not really, but I didn't want to ruin the gloom of the last one with a suger induced twitch fit of mild normalcy. Follow all that??
So this is what happened - I vented to my friends. I went to lunch. I had chocolate cake while waiting for my tri tip topped salad. YUM and a HALF. I just love this BBQ place and they now LOVE ME cuz I'm in there like at least once a week (ouch on the wallet, but OH YEAH to the satisfaction from a lunch break). Talked MORE to my friends. Got some closure on some stuff at work - nothing I started my day thinking I would be doing, but at least these little projects wouldn't haunt 2 days. Call to Techie, he is in a Super Sugarfied Sassy mood, we yuck it up for a good 20 minutes as he checks on this ticket and that and helps me with 2 things that came up while I had him on the line. We hung up and I had... yep... a little one but it was surely a specimen... a little smile was lingering on my lips.
Well fuck me sideways, I was happier than a pack of boy scouts at a pie eating contest to find that my face hurt from turning UP instead of sliding DOWN.
The nagging depressive tugged my ear, asking if this wasn't another case of the co-dependent getting her fix of someone who sees her as a female with all her perks and I told that little whinny bitch to shut up and wait her turn for another trip on the Psychotic Freak Mobile. I told that devil horned monster that 4 days a week she had control and that was entirely too much of my time and that this whisp of a smile was going to be coaxed and coddled until it was a full blown real happiness even if it only lasts for a minute because 2 days of tears and snot and hiding and avoiding is plenty enough to warrent the enjoyment of hearing the exasserbated reaction of a Skittle falling from a friends mouth and leaving an orange streak down his baby blue shirt. I nursed that little smile, that aching unfamiliar burst of spontaneous muscle contraction to health... and so far, the little devil bitch has decided my betrayal of her evil forces is a crock of shit and she has gone into hiding.
So, I've asked him about 47 times if he'd join me, but do you think a trip to Hawaii is thanks enough to Techie for facilitating such a quick recovery?
Oh No, Not THAT Again
I'm finding myself in a curious merry go round of turmoil these days.
Maybe its because I've had the same sound boards for about a year now, people in my world who can hold me accountable to who I was and how I've done this before.
Perhaps its just that the vocalization of my woes is letting me remember these verses when they repeat.
Whatever it is, I could either fill this blog with redundancies and embarass myself by reading my archives and realizing that copy/paste would suffice as an accurate portrayal of my current state of mind... or I could knash my teeth here at the indignation of REALIZING that copy/paste would work and marvel at the complexitites of the human mind that would allow me to play and replay the same exact story line year after year and never tire of the woes of me.
I've got power struggles. I don't like being managed, but can't work for myself because even RENT isn't a strong enough motivator to get me out of bed to work.
I have roomie woes. I worry about if Sister will leave me stranded in a lease, if the dog will make it long enough to warrent finding a place that will allow her to live there, if I can just stick it out with [insert degrogatory roomie name here] for a few more months just to keep something in my life stable.
I have guy trouble. The guys who like me as a person have no appeal to me, the ones who treat me like a sex toy I pine for every minute of the day - then resent them for not falling in love with me, knowing full well someone would NEVER fall for their whore.
I hide in alcohol and food and tears and lonliness.
These are the same woes. There is no more Miss Menthol, Mousy, TweedleDee and TweedleDipshit, I've lost my Blondie motivation and tanlines gotten by the pool, but with a whole new set of nicnames and details I am returning to what feels like home - a downturned mouth, a slouch, swollen eyes, full belly, longing for my bathrobe and a bed. I don't really need a reason I guess, turns out that today's list of pet peeves are not that different from last years, but somehow I am worn raw from this constant wearing of hats to hide my inner struggle. Last year I had Sass, this year I'm just cynical and sad.
The worst of it? I truely resent Sexy for giving me a smile. I was really thrilled to have him around, to distract me from real life and escape into fun and comfort and relaxation and peaceful innocent unadulterated laughter and joy. Now I hate him for giving me something to come down from.
Last week I was so sure my shitty streak had ended, that I had triumphed over the last of my troubles, that I could look around my life and see nothing but light, no more tunnels. Today I realize that I let the drama swirl around me so I have a constant reason to be down, that those bright lights were more akin to a sunset, that it really is more work for me to be upbeat and happy and when it comes down to it I really only pretend to have a lust for life.
Or I'm just in the thick of it. Either way, its all so depressing. The worst of it?? It even bores ME. The details wrile me up, the overall content frustrates me, and the best advice I've heard about any of it, the most compellingly soothing comment so far, was "it happens to everyone, we all have to muddle throught this shit, its just how life is." Somehow knowing you all suffer like me makes it better, how twisted is THAT???
Off to not notice that its the time Sexy used to call me to invite me to lunch, snack on veggies so I keep away from the bagel table, have my tea to keep my eyes open, find solace in my solitude as I examine the bowed in box of things I won't get to today, wonder if I can make it home for lunch so maybe a dog kiss can remind me that it really isn't all that bad to be me.... enjoy the sinister delight of knowing that all of you have suffering that has much more to do with real problems than dramatic prose for your internal narrator, remember I'm being a spoiled bitch who's worst ACTUAL struggle is if I'll do whatever I want EVERY day or just MOST days, and decide if Tempura's hot tub is where I'll avoid whining tonight or if it will be a walk down the beach.
Poor me.
I know.
Bite me. =)
Maybe its because I've had the same sound boards for about a year now, people in my world who can hold me accountable to who I was and how I've done this before.
Perhaps its just that the vocalization of my woes is letting me remember these verses when they repeat.
Whatever it is, I could either fill this blog with redundancies and embarass myself by reading my archives and realizing that copy/paste would suffice as an accurate portrayal of my current state of mind... or I could knash my teeth here at the indignation of REALIZING that copy/paste would work and marvel at the complexitites of the human mind that would allow me to play and replay the same exact story line year after year and never tire of the woes of me.
I've got power struggles. I don't like being managed, but can't work for myself because even RENT isn't a strong enough motivator to get me out of bed to work.
I have roomie woes. I worry about if Sister will leave me stranded in a lease, if the dog will make it long enough to warrent finding a place that will allow her to live there, if I can just stick it out with [insert degrogatory roomie name here] for a few more months just to keep something in my life stable.
I have guy trouble. The guys who like me as a person have no appeal to me, the ones who treat me like a sex toy I pine for every minute of the day - then resent them for not falling in love with me, knowing full well someone would NEVER fall for their whore.
I hide in alcohol and food and tears and lonliness.
These are the same woes. There is no more Miss Menthol, Mousy, TweedleDee and TweedleDipshit, I've lost my Blondie motivation and tanlines gotten by the pool, but with a whole new set of nicnames and details I am returning to what feels like home - a downturned mouth, a slouch, swollen eyes, full belly, longing for my bathrobe and a bed. I don't really need a reason I guess, turns out that today's list of pet peeves are not that different from last years, but somehow I am worn raw from this constant wearing of hats to hide my inner struggle. Last year I had Sass, this year I'm just cynical and sad.
The worst of it? I truely resent Sexy for giving me a smile. I was really thrilled to have him around, to distract me from real life and escape into fun and comfort and relaxation and peaceful innocent unadulterated laughter and joy. Now I hate him for giving me something to come down from.
Last week I was so sure my shitty streak had ended, that I had triumphed over the last of my troubles, that I could look around my life and see nothing but light, no more tunnels. Today I realize that I let the drama swirl around me so I have a constant reason to be down, that those bright lights were more akin to a sunset, that it really is more work for me to be upbeat and happy and when it comes down to it I really only pretend to have a lust for life.
Or I'm just in the thick of it. Either way, its all so depressing. The worst of it?? It even bores ME. The details wrile me up, the overall content frustrates me, and the best advice I've heard about any of it, the most compellingly soothing comment so far, was "it happens to everyone, we all have to muddle throught this shit, its just how life is." Somehow knowing you all suffer like me makes it better, how twisted is THAT???
Off to not notice that its the time Sexy used to call me to invite me to lunch, snack on veggies so I keep away from the bagel table, have my tea to keep my eyes open, find solace in my solitude as I examine the bowed in box of things I won't get to today, wonder if I can make it home for lunch so maybe a dog kiss can remind me that it really isn't all that bad to be me.... enjoy the sinister delight of knowing that all of you have suffering that has much more to do with real problems than dramatic prose for your internal narrator, remember I'm being a spoiled bitch who's worst ACTUAL struggle is if I'll do whatever I want EVERY day or just MOST days, and decide if Tempura's hot tub is where I'll avoid whining tonight or if it will be a walk down the beach.
Poor me.
I know.
Bite me. =)
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
I Got It.
I got the job.
I went to lunch with Boss who talked like it was a done deal.
I talked with Would Be Boss at the end of her day and she talked like it was a done deal.
Then they tagged up to give the secret handshake that it was a done deal.
My references were checked today. My application is on file. My paperwork is being shuffled.
I don't have a start date yet - depends on when they find my replacement.
I don't know how much the raise is - depends on how the scale of bonuses works and which one I want to be on.
I don't know why I have this crazy twisty feeling in my gut right now, and my lips are turned curiously upward, and all my veins feel like they are electrified, but I can only assume that its got something to do with the building finally stopping its dance in the wind and the hangover wearing off and the lunch being digested and MY GETTING PROMOTED TODAY!!!!!!!
Booyakasha.
Fuck, 2 weeks ago I was told management had picked someone out - today I'm told that everyone can see I'm bored and I need to move up and I already know the business and in some ways am TRAINING the bosses on how to do this business so they are gathering their faith in me and handing it over for me to gobble down and BAM look whos got a shiny new title at her same old office!!!
There is pressure. There is a 7:30am-6pm shift for 2 weeks at a time, on a 3 person rotation. There is business to do, its brand new, and we have a sizeable goal to meet.
I'm all twitchy just thinkin about it.
But I will get a desk where I can see the ocean and sunsets, have a list of things to get done by the end of the day every day, and have weekly goals to strive for that others will hold me accountable for.
And THAT is what we call growing up!!!
Boom chaka Boom chaka Boom bada Boom, Sassy's got her grove on, ya'll, make some room! Boom clacka Boom clacka Boom chuga Boom, watch that Sass, she'll laso the moon!
I went to lunch with Boss who talked like it was a done deal.
I talked with Would Be Boss at the end of her day and she talked like it was a done deal.
Then they tagged up to give the secret handshake that it was a done deal.
My references were checked today. My application is on file. My paperwork is being shuffled.
I don't have a start date yet - depends on when they find my replacement.
I don't know how much the raise is - depends on how the scale of bonuses works and which one I want to be on.
I don't know why I have this crazy twisty feeling in my gut right now, and my lips are turned curiously upward, and all my veins feel like they are electrified, but I can only assume that its got something to do with the building finally stopping its dance in the wind and the hangover wearing off and the lunch being digested and MY GETTING PROMOTED TODAY!!!!!!!
Booyakasha.
Fuck, 2 weeks ago I was told management had picked someone out - today I'm told that everyone can see I'm bored and I need to move up and I already know the business and in some ways am TRAINING the bosses on how to do this business so they are gathering their faith in me and handing it over for me to gobble down and BAM look whos got a shiny new title at her same old office!!!
There is pressure. There is a 7:30am-6pm shift for 2 weeks at a time, on a 3 person rotation. There is business to do, its brand new, and we have a sizeable goal to meet.
I'm all twitchy just thinkin about it.
But I will get a desk where I can see the ocean and sunsets, have a list of things to get done by the end of the day every day, and have weekly goals to strive for that others will hold me accountable for.
And THAT is what we call growing up!!!
Boom chaka Boom chaka Boom bada Boom, Sassy's got her grove on, ya'll, make some room! Boom clacka Boom clacka Boom chuga Boom, watch that Sass, she'll laso the moon!
Love My Sister!
I do,
I really really do appreciate her for who she is, respect her for doing what she has to when it has to be done, understand her needs and desires are different than mine and adore how she is there for me these days.
But for fucks sake, is it totally necessary to come visit just to go to a dive bar where they are spinnen the ones and twos of her kind of music and keep a constantly full Tokyo Tea in front of the purse that I have been assigned to watch??? I mean, Long Islands will get you shitty in a hurry, so lets take out the soda (caffeine that might keep you from a headache in the morning, sugar to remind you that you should SLOW DOWN) and add Midori (the sweetest nectar of whatever its made of thats like 17% alcohol, cuz the other 3/4 of the pint glass filled with well spirits isn't quite enough to throw you over the edge in the first sip).
I willingly partake in these events, but she gets trained on her new job today, and I have reason to believe that this morning I will be seriously discussing my start date for the promotion the office is all a buzz with after yesterday's conversation I so elegantly guided with Boss' Boss. Basically I got stuck helping her look up some numbers, we chatted about how the office will be growing soon, and I reminded her I am very interested in taking one of the available seats. She told me to talk to Boss and Would Be Boss by the end of the day and have someone call her back. Yep. You heard me. If I can get Boss to have 2 minutes, we'll go back and discuss the details and if I can maintain the front that I am capable and committed and ready to be a go getter, I'll be seeking my replacement by the end of the day (actually Boss asked about Sister to take my seat ;) )
So what do I do? Go home last night, cook a fantabulous fresh healthy dinner, compliment it with a glass of water, and pass out on the couch. When Sister comes in at 10:45pm, I get up, change out of my sweats into some jeans, and go get shitty in a dive bar while watching her 20lbs of purse while she shakes her ass and kicks her feet and grinds on some dude. Yep. I'm a little over confident about this new position, huh?? I decide its ok to leave the house at 11pm to have a drink, end up being awake (after Monday, the 6am wake up, 7:45 in the office, leave at 7pm, get to sleep at 1am day) till about 3:30am, and bolt to the shower just shy of 4 hours of sleep later.
Sister learns how to carry a tray of hot plates to tables today. I told her to mind her wrist, thanked her for the drinks, reminded her that next time I have to be roused from slumber to go out that it REALLY is ok to let me be a cheap/one drink date, and sent her on her merry way to fend for her own McMuffin and coffee.
Coffee.
Already burned my tongue.
Twice.
But hey, I found my keys and my wallet and got to work on time to have a conversation about my new job... she better get here quick or my 2 functioning brain cells might just decide its ok to nap with the rest of them.
Love my Sister!!!
I really really do appreciate her for who she is, respect her for doing what she has to when it has to be done, understand her needs and desires are different than mine and adore how she is there for me these days.
But for fucks sake, is it totally necessary to come visit just to go to a dive bar where they are spinnen the ones and twos of her kind of music and keep a constantly full Tokyo Tea in front of the purse that I have been assigned to watch??? I mean, Long Islands will get you shitty in a hurry, so lets take out the soda (caffeine that might keep you from a headache in the morning, sugar to remind you that you should SLOW DOWN) and add Midori (the sweetest nectar of whatever its made of thats like 17% alcohol, cuz the other 3/4 of the pint glass filled with well spirits isn't quite enough to throw you over the edge in the first sip).
I willingly partake in these events, but she gets trained on her new job today, and I have reason to believe that this morning I will be seriously discussing my start date for the promotion the office is all a buzz with after yesterday's conversation I so elegantly guided with Boss' Boss. Basically I got stuck helping her look up some numbers, we chatted about how the office will be growing soon, and I reminded her I am very interested in taking one of the available seats. She told me to talk to Boss and Would Be Boss by the end of the day and have someone call her back. Yep. You heard me. If I can get Boss to have 2 minutes, we'll go back and discuss the details and if I can maintain the front that I am capable and committed and ready to be a go getter, I'll be seeking my replacement by the end of the day (actually Boss asked about Sister to take my seat ;) )
So what do I do? Go home last night, cook a fantabulous fresh healthy dinner, compliment it with a glass of water, and pass out on the couch. When Sister comes in at 10:45pm, I get up, change out of my sweats into some jeans, and go get shitty in a dive bar while watching her 20lbs of purse while she shakes her ass and kicks her feet and grinds on some dude. Yep. I'm a little over confident about this new position, huh?? I decide its ok to leave the house at 11pm to have a drink, end up being awake (after Monday, the 6am wake up, 7:45 in the office, leave at 7pm, get to sleep at 1am day) till about 3:30am, and bolt to the shower just shy of 4 hours of sleep later.
Sister learns how to carry a tray of hot plates to tables today. I told her to mind her wrist, thanked her for the drinks, reminded her that next time I have to be roused from slumber to go out that it REALLY is ok to let me be a cheap/one drink date, and sent her on her merry way to fend for her own McMuffin and coffee.
Coffee.
Already burned my tongue.
Twice.
But hey, I found my keys and my wallet and got to work on time to have a conversation about my new job... she better get here quick or my 2 functioning brain cells might just decide its ok to nap with the rest of them.
Love my Sister!!!
Monday, November 27, 2006
I've Got Meme On Me
Vince has officially tagged me.
Serves me right I guess, since I only unofficially tagged him with mine.
Since I'm in just that kind of mood, I think I'll partake.
10 Things I'll Never Do.
1) Understand the meaning of it all. Especially out of the mouth of a man.
2) Keep my mouth shut about what I'm thinking. I surprise myself too often with what comes out to ever keep it in.
3) Enjoy being the bigger person. I do it. I am good at it. I spout it as advice often. But I NEVER like it, I'm just too nice to come up with something vindictive to do instead.
4) I'll never regret/hold guilt over my relationships with any of my family, living or dead. They are what I am given, I do the best I can with what I've got when I'm there.
5) I'll never give up hope that this is not really my life. This is always just a step on the path that is my life. My life is bigger than these small things I sweat, or these Sassy shoes I strut in.
Ya'll, this is hard. I am having a hard time thinking of things I won't do, and everything I'm coming up with is more of a "well, if the timing were right..." Stupid open mind. Worse, some things I can think of I've already done, how sick is that??
6) I'll never eat a live goldfish. Cum on an empty water filled stomach makes me yack, I could only imagine what a goldfish could elicit out of me.
7) keep up with the Jones'. I don't know them, they don't care about me, I like my car and my house for me, not what they think of me. But if they kick down their old shit, I'll gladly accept =)
8) Think he loves me because he hits me. I'll put up with a LOT of shit (dad may get a call on that this week actually, as I notice I put up with the same things from him), but if he beats me, he's out, no questions asked. (no, I haven't been beaten, ever, don't sharpen your bayonettes.)
9) Take a stupid dare. I've met people who ate a bottle of Tobasco in one gulp, felt the ulcer pop instantaneously, and are plagued with it to this day because one time at boy scout camp a friend said "dare ya!". Thats bullshit. Recent events included, I actually really think I have a choice in what I do and I won't be pursuaded by a phrase to do something I know is stupid.
10) I almost said "think I'm worth it - money, attention, gifts, praise", but I really think I'll get over that if life settles enough to let me be secure in what I have. So maybe I want to say that I'll never wrap my head around why it took so long for me to put my foot down and DEMAND I never feel short changed or over extended or walked on or taken advantage of.
That was rediculously fucking hard. Its all in flux this minute and I have a very broad thinking spectrum these weeks and to even say "I'll never stop drinking" or "I'll never choose to be alone" or "I'll never go to that damn town again"... well, I laughed at the split second thought that I have any clue what my life will be like even a month from now.
In other news, I'm single. I am also revamping my mental list of requirements for a guy to be considered dateable. Please feel free to drop your suggestions in the comment box. I will be sure to carefully consider your offerings before ripping them to shreds. =) Mostly I know that people who have lists are disappointed when they meet their List Girl ::coughDADcough:: and aren't happy. There are a few things I hold sacred though, and I will fitfully dangle by them when it all falls to shit, and I'm thinking I need more than a fingerhook worth of Must Have's in order to have a fighting chance at not falling in love with the next houseplant I see.
Hoping the rest of my life's shit bath is as easy to clean off as this was...
Serves me right I guess, since I only unofficially tagged him with mine.
Since I'm in just that kind of mood, I think I'll partake.
10 Things I'll Never Do.
1) Understand the meaning of it all. Especially out of the mouth of a man.
2) Keep my mouth shut about what I'm thinking. I surprise myself too often with what comes out to ever keep it in.
3) Enjoy being the bigger person. I do it. I am good at it. I spout it as advice often. But I NEVER like it, I'm just too nice to come up with something vindictive to do instead.
4) I'll never regret/hold guilt over my relationships with any of my family, living or dead. They are what I am given, I do the best I can with what I've got when I'm there.
5) I'll never give up hope that this is not really my life. This is always just a step on the path that is my life. My life is bigger than these small things I sweat, or these Sassy shoes I strut in.
Ya'll, this is hard. I am having a hard time thinking of things I won't do, and everything I'm coming up with is more of a "well, if the timing were right..." Stupid open mind. Worse, some things I can think of I've already done, how sick is that??
6) I'll never eat a live goldfish. Cum on an empty water filled stomach makes me yack, I could only imagine what a goldfish could elicit out of me.
7) keep up with the Jones'. I don't know them, they don't care about me, I like my car and my house for me, not what they think of me. But if they kick down their old shit, I'll gladly accept =)
8) Think he loves me because he hits me. I'll put up with a LOT of shit (dad may get a call on that this week actually, as I notice I put up with the same things from him), but if he beats me, he's out, no questions asked. (no, I haven't been beaten, ever, don't sharpen your bayonettes.)
9) Take a stupid dare. I've met people who ate a bottle of Tobasco in one gulp, felt the ulcer pop instantaneously, and are plagued with it to this day because one time at boy scout camp a friend said "dare ya!". Thats bullshit. Recent events included, I actually really think I have a choice in what I do and I won't be pursuaded by a phrase to do something I know is stupid.
10) I almost said "think I'm worth it - money, attention, gifts, praise", but I really think I'll get over that if life settles enough to let me be secure in what I have. So maybe I want to say that I'll never wrap my head around why it took so long for me to put my foot down and DEMAND I never feel short changed or over extended or walked on or taken advantage of.
That was rediculously fucking hard. Its all in flux this minute and I have a very broad thinking spectrum these weeks and to even say "I'll never stop drinking" or "I'll never choose to be alone" or "I'll never go to that damn town again"... well, I laughed at the split second thought that I have any clue what my life will be like even a month from now.
In other news, I'm single. I am also revamping my mental list of requirements for a guy to be considered dateable. Please feel free to drop your suggestions in the comment box. I will be sure to carefully consider your offerings before ripping them to shreds. =) Mostly I know that people who have lists are disappointed when they meet their List Girl ::coughDADcough:: and aren't happy. There are a few things I hold sacred though, and I will fitfully dangle by them when it all falls to shit, and I'm thinking I need more than a fingerhook worth of Must Have's in order to have a fighting chance at not falling in love with the next houseplant I see.
Hoping the rest of my life's shit bath is as easy to clean off as this was...
Monday
Got here late. Listened to Boss read memo's I had in my email. Left the meeting early to take care of a candidate who didn't have any of his shit together. Par for the course, as my end didn't have their shit together either.
It's 9am, I just caught a break, I have a stack of work to do, an email inbox that is overflowing, and a broken blood vessel in my right eye from the deluge of compounded shit I ended up dealing with last night. It wouldn't bother me so much that I look like a stoner except it feels like my eyeball is swollen and that is a little distracting.
My left shoulder blade has had an accompanying knot since the Wednesday drive. I can't get it to loosen up. I can't get a friend to work it out for me. I don't know where they do massages around here. All that tension next to my spine and moving toward my neck isn't helping my exhausted mood. I am about to get on another ibuprofin buzz, just so my fingers don't go numb while I do this fucking data entry from the 9 interviews my coworkers crammed into 2 half days that they need done RIGHT NOW like before the standard Super High Priority Monday Morning stack of shit I always have to do.
Yeah. Susie Sunshine is still MIA. Don't expect her soon, the search party is on break. I'm somehow wikedly content to be fucking miserable. I don't even fake a smile anymore. Its Sassy, with a dark cloud, a pitchfork, and the stare that frightens small children. I'm hungry, I'm uncaffeinated, I'm puffy in the face from too much crying and not enough sleep, and it rained last night so my avoidance of laundry leaving me in a skirt suit means my shoes and stockinged legs and hem were dripping by the time I got to my car. I hate being wet. Wish me luck, I read a diet plan and how little I should be eating and I am nearly convinced that the reason I sleep with men on the first date is to win their affections so they keep calling me back but its backfiring to the extreme and I think if I were skinny I would let myself think they would call me back even if I weren't sleeping with them. Diet pills will be added when I can muster the energy to deal with a store, until then, its counted calories no matter what my stomach says and hard core excercise until I can't see straight before bed. Unfortunately it looks like my prefered method will be short lived, and instead of silk and latex as accessories I'll be strapped by sprorts bras and entertained by iPod.
Fuckity fuck. Fuck it. Water and Work. Fuck it. Life is too short for this bullshit, but since I'm psychologically ready for a WEEK LONG MELTDOWN, I guess I should suck it up and get it out of my system good and hard so MAYBE whenever Susie peeks out she has a fighting chance of not getting the shit pummeled out of her.
It's 9am, I just caught a break, I have a stack of work to do, an email inbox that is overflowing, and a broken blood vessel in my right eye from the deluge of compounded shit I ended up dealing with last night. It wouldn't bother me so much that I look like a stoner except it feels like my eyeball is swollen and that is a little distracting.
My left shoulder blade has had an accompanying knot since the Wednesday drive. I can't get it to loosen up. I can't get a friend to work it out for me. I don't know where they do massages around here. All that tension next to my spine and moving toward my neck isn't helping my exhausted mood. I am about to get on another ibuprofin buzz, just so my fingers don't go numb while I do this fucking data entry from the 9 interviews my coworkers crammed into 2 half days that they need done RIGHT NOW like before the standard Super High Priority Monday Morning stack of shit I always have to do.
Yeah. Susie Sunshine is still MIA. Don't expect her soon, the search party is on break. I'm somehow wikedly content to be fucking miserable. I don't even fake a smile anymore. Its Sassy, with a dark cloud, a pitchfork, and the stare that frightens small children. I'm hungry, I'm uncaffeinated, I'm puffy in the face from too much crying and not enough sleep, and it rained last night so my avoidance of laundry leaving me in a skirt suit means my shoes and stockinged legs and hem were dripping by the time I got to my car. I hate being wet. Wish me luck, I read a diet plan and how little I should be eating and I am nearly convinced that the reason I sleep with men on the first date is to win their affections so they keep calling me back but its backfiring to the extreme and I think if I were skinny I would let myself think they would call me back even if I weren't sleeping with them. Diet pills will be added when I can muster the energy to deal with a store, until then, its counted calories no matter what my stomach says and hard core excercise until I can't see straight before bed. Unfortunately it looks like my prefered method will be short lived, and instead of silk and latex as accessories I'll be strapped by sprorts bras and entertained by iPod.
Fuckity fuck. Fuck it. Water and Work. Fuck it. Life is too short for this bullshit, but since I'm psychologically ready for a WEEK LONG MELTDOWN, I guess I should suck it up and get it out of my system good and hard so MAYBE whenever Susie peeks out she has a fighting chance of not getting the shit pummeled out of her.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Hit It
Ever have all your shit hit the fan?
Some days, its all just there, splayed before you, gobbed on the wall and in your hair and everywhere you look and when you move you feel it everywhere.
These are the days that have you sobbing in revalation after revalation in the work bathroom stall at 9:45pm.
Life happens. Things Change. Memories are made, then forgotten. Hearts hurt. Fingers bleed.
Nothing that unusual happened today. Lots of little unlikeable things happened in one day, but nothing I haven't bitched about here before.
What the difference was in today's concoction of bullshit that had me bent over my panties dropping tears onto my kneecaps, I'm not exactly sure.
Am I the only one who needs no rational reason whatsoever to have a total breakdown? Sure, my life is entertaining, I apparently thrive on the drama of it all, and when I am dull I find things that will frustrate me and fixate on them. I guess the point is that a meltdown of this magnitude doesn't have anything to do with the logical side of life... I am riding the wave of the gut-feeling-initiated-life, and with the crash I find myself soaked in salty water.
Well. Here I have a reconing. A recognizing. A self evaluation.
Dangerous to prescribe one's own medicine, I know this.
But I have a bit of clarity through these swollen eyes.
I know decisions and actions have to be made.
I put both off intensely.
With all the energy I've put into letting things be, I could have built a bridge to Taiwan by now.
I notice, but until it compiles itself in just such a way, no one else sees my mutilating habits.
The wounds are bleeding today, they hurt, and they are all demanding attention which leaves me exhausted and weak and not able to tend to any of them.
My patchwork dressings are piled on the floor, right there in the shit that hit the fan.
How long before I clean the mess?? Thats the real bitch of it all; I can't tell whats new and whats old.
Do I walk over the shit to get new dressings for my wounds, or do I shovel the shit while my wounds seep?
If I start to dig, do I create new wounds?
Will it take a day or a year to make any progress?
Does it matter which I tend to first, really??
Achingly, I retreat.
I will go home and pack a bag to go to my home town.
The last time I was there, I stood in my dad's driveway and dropped a single tear on his shirt, knowing I never needed to go back there for anything, even my mother's gravestone.
I do this trip, these 1000 miles on my car, these 16 hours of roadtrip, these 12 work hours missed, because I have a poster that lists one of Life's Little Lessons as "go home for the holidays" and follows it with "don't get too big for your britches."
It is just for him. And his dying parents. He will pay me for his time, I will thank him, and he will not know that he has made me feel like a whore for 10 years; we both know I won't spend time with him unless he pays me. I will be polite and hide my pain and joys and anything that means anything to me, I will eat and drink and give myself pep talks in the bathroom.
I will bring a shovel and fresh dressings.
And this is only the tip of the shit covered iceberg of what hurts tonight.
I will pack the gratitude journal too, just to keep from drowning in this muck.
My prayers and Susie Sunshine thoughts are with you and yours this holiday weekend. Travel safe, pack light. Be glad you have family and friends, remember to say Thank You and mean it. Don't eat everything you see, it will be there for leftovers later. I'll be better soon, I promise, but know you don't need to carry the weight of the world today because I am doing it for you.
Some days, its all just there, splayed before you, gobbed on the wall and in your hair and everywhere you look and when you move you feel it everywhere.
These are the days that have you sobbing in revalation after revalation in the work bathroom stall at 9:45pm.
Life happens. Things Change. Memories are made, then forgotten. Hearts hurt. Fingers bleed.
Nothing that unusual happened today. Lots of little unlikeable things happened in one day, but nothing I haven't bitched about here before.
What the difference was in today's concoction of bullshit that had me bent over my panties dropping tears onto my kneecaps, I'm not exactly sure.
Am I the only one who needs no rational reason whatsoever to have a total breakdown? Sure, my life is entertaining, I apparently thrive on the drama of it all, and when I am dull I find things that will frustrate me and fixate on them. I guess the point is that a meltdown of this magnitude doesn't have anything to do with the logical side of life... I am riding the wave of the gut-feeling-initiated-life, and with the crash I find myself soaked in salty water.
Well. Here I have a reconing. A recognizing. A self evaluation.
Dangerous to prescribe one's own medicine, I know this.
But I have a bit of clarity through these swollen eyes.
I know decisions and actions have to be made.
I put both off intensely.
With all the energy I've put into letting things be, I could have built a bridge to Taiwan by now.
I notice, but until it compiles itself in just such a way, no one else sees my mutilating habits.
The wounds are bleeding today, they hurt, and they are all demanding attention which leaves me exhausted and weak and not able to tend to any of them.
My patchwork dressings are piled on the floor, right there in the shit that hit the fan.
How long before I clean the mess?? Thats the real bitch of it all; I can't tell whats new and whats old.
Do I walk over the shit to get new dressings for my wounds, or do I shovel the shit while my wounds seep?
If I start to dig, do I create new wounds?
Will it take a day or a year to make any progress?
Does it matter which I tend to first, really??
Achingly, I retreat.
I will go home and pack a bag to go to my home town.
The last time I was there, I stood in my dad's driveway and dropped a single tear on his shirt, knowing I never needed to go back there for anything, even my mother's gravestone.
I do this trip, these 1000 miles on my car, these 16 hours of roadtrip, these 12 work hours missed, because I have a poster that lists one of Life's Little Lessons as "go home for the holidays" and follows it with "don't get too big for your britches."
It is just for him. And his dying parents. He will pay me for his time, I will thank him, and he will not know that he has made me feel like a whore for 10 years; we both know I won't spend time with him unless he pays me. I will be polite and hide my pain and joys and anything that means anything to me, I will eat and drink and give myself pep talks in the bathroom.
I will bring a shovel and fresh dressings.
And this is only the tip of the shit covered iceberg of what hurts tonight.
I will pack the gratitude journal too, just to keep from drowning in this muck.
My prayers and Susie Sunshine thoughts are with you and yours this holiday weekend. Travel safe, pack light. Be glad you have family and friends, remember to say Thank You and mean it. Don't eat everything you see, it will be there for leftovers later. I'll be better soon, I promise, but know you don't need to carry the weight of the world today because I am doing it for you.
Monday, November 20, 2006
I'm It
I've been tagged by MOT to list the 5 things most people don't know about me.
Well, won't this be a challenge!! What DON'T you guys know about me???
1) I used to be PAINFULLY shy. Like it actually physically wrecked me to be in social situations. This was especially gut wrenching with my salesman of a gregarious dad who found it unfathomable that I really could not walk up to a new kid and start talking, function a sentance when formally introduced, walk with my head up to invite eye contact, or remember what we decided when ordering a pizza. It was THAT bad. Somehow I got over this - I'm thinking it was the manymanymanymany many many M A N Y times I was forced to be with people. Trouble was, as my Freakazoid Aunt put it, "by the time you were 13 you were already WAY too smart for me and I didn't like talking to you because you would just throw it in my face that you knew everything, but you didn't know you did it, you just started talking and in one minute flat I was lost." To my defense she was on some form of blow through my entire formative years, but still, this is indicitive of how my mother had to fight like the dickens to get me socialized in a caliber of people that would suffice. Eventually the real world came and got me, but because I actually had a worthwhile personality but hid behind a solomn face, I was labeled BITCH by quite a few people who overheard my coolness in the hallways with my friends but who I apparently wouldn't give the time of day (because I was ready to vomit at the thought of looking THAT awsome person in the face).
Yeah. This is gonna be a tough list!
2) I was a band GEEK. I wasn't in the band, I was section leader, marching center of the entire squad, winning awards left and right at band camp, teaching the frosh how to behave in class, first to arrive when we had to be on the bus at 4:30am for a competition, telling the Band Aids what the requirements were for us to win all the appearance points, running with the instructors keys to get the room opened up for the tard who forgot to get his neckstrap, at EVERY SINGLE Varsity football game because thats when I could show off how loud I could blast my brass and how well my vocal chords could handle the cheers and shout backs. I was a trumpet player for 10 years. I was in marching band, concert band, and jazz band, where my second chair had me not hitting all the high notes (braces, ouch) but I was the ONLY one doing solos. Again, extremely painful to stand in front of everyone and literally toot my horn, but somehow the instructor got me through it. Go Scho!!!
I have it in my closet, I haven't picked it up in years, but I am convinced that this part of my experience built my "help others for the greater good of the whole" mentality that keeps me strapped in administrative work.
3) I cry. A lot. Like last night I was washing my face after watching TV and out of no where I broke into sobs, right there with my face under the spout. There was a heartfelt moment at the end of the show, and I got a little teary about the letter from beyond the grave apologizing for what he was sure everyone had found out about him (Brothers and Sisters, if you don't already, START WATCHING)... then pet the dog and got ready for bed only to find I flashed back to 2 years ago for almost no reason whatsoever. You'd THINK I'd be crying for my mom, who didn't get a chance to leave a letter before succumbing to her illness, but instead I heard something in Costco that had me flash to an ex and it had me snotting myself as I rinsed my face.
I'll cry in the car on the way to work. I'll take a morning break to let loose in the bathroom. I'll cry on the way home. I'll look at the dog and drop a tear. I'll have conversations with people who aren't there and cry until my stomach can't eek out another breath. I don't know why, I usually feel a release when I'm done, and its not every day, but I don't remember crying even a year ago so this is getting a bit worrysome now that I think about it. I'm either becoming fully realized as an emotional being or I'm falling apart at the seams. Stay tuned.
4) I am still extremely nieve. It took me until, well, about a year ago to understand what "White Lines" was singing about. I liked the song, and knew the words, but didn't know what they MEANT. I am still baffled when guys who SHOULD treat me well because they are trying to get BACK into my pants treat me like SHIT for exactly the same reason. I can't follow politics because I forget who does what jobs and where their effects reach before I read the next story. I am that chick who could have a plane crash over her head while she's picking a dandilion and wonder why everyone is running when she stands up. But, I am also extremely smart and observant of the little things, like when the waitress thought we were ready to order because our menus were closed, Sexy thought I was AMAZINGLY observant. I'm getting better, and I decided to keep my head buried when I realized that I would eventually grow up and there was no need to rush that. But I'm in my late 20's now and I am still a little embarrassed when my little sister and my boyfriend talk about shooting up vs. freebase vs. dropping parachutes and they both look at me and I get to say "uh huh, what you said" because I was too blinded by rear of the unknown to have anyone talk to me about it, let alone offer to let me try it.
5) I'm really ok with myself. I go through fits of disliking this or that, but I think its Flo who incites these insecurities. I know I am a growing expanding creative person who will never fulfill her full potential, and I am willing to be who I am right this minute on my way to being who I will become tomorrow. I don't hang on to memories because I don't want to be stuck as who I was then. I don't plan too much because I don't know who I will be when I get there and I do NOT want to be hindered by today's goals. I think I want to be thin, but I've always been heavy, and my size 12 waistline offers me a kind of classic Venitian curvature that I typically find attractive when I stand naked in the mirror. I remember the days when getting offered to go to the movies with a friend would get me hyperventilating with anxious anticipation... I'm glad I am not like that anymore... but even yesterday when Sexy came over and asked how I was my only response was "happy to see you" because I am still a bit like the shy girl who hit puberty and grew up before everyone else who is thrilled that someone wants to spend their time with her.
I am work in progress, and I know it, and 90% of my angst is from knowing deep down that opportunities are everywhere and I don't want to be the chickenshit I once was. The best thing I ever did for myself was follow my gut, but with all the coffee and multivitamins I've been taking I'm afraid my intuition might be skewed. I'm afraid to listen when things are good and only respond to the bad after a thurough going over in the mental side of things (which I hash out here for public scrutiny and support and approval). Somewhere in this Libran process of checks and balances, I know its what I need to do in order to stay on my right path and take advantage of what I can only when I am ready to... and for that I am comfortable knowing these pounds will stay on and the makeup will be applied and my friends list will be short and my work life will be a struggle of discontent and my home life will continue to test me in unphathomable ways. In the end though, I know its all good for me and I can take it and that I am the person I am meant to be right now. The fun is that who I am is Sassy, or Susie Sunshine, whoever peeks out that very minute, and the dominant is forever undecided =)
Alright. I'm talkative today. I made coffee and had to add a warmer to dilute the creamer explosion, then Would Be Boss asked if I wanted breakfast so instead of a protein shake I had a veggie omlette. I am PUMPED UP!!
I almost forgot to tag my 5... lets see...
Laurie, as a topic to post about in these non-Pirate days,
Christal, just because I really wonder what she hasn't put on display yet,
Curmudgeon, as I think the one liners would be quote worthy ;),
LBB, cuz who doesn't wonder what makes that guy tick??,
and, Stacey as I'm sure she would LOVE to be more entrenched in the Blogger world =)
Well, won't this be a challenge!! What DON'T you guys know about me???
1) I used to be PAINFULLY shy. Like it actually physically wrecked me to be in social situations. This was especially gut wrenching with my salesman of a gregarious dad who found it unfathomable that I really could not walk up to a new kid and start talking, function a sentance when formally introduced, walk with my head up to invite eye contact, or remember what we decided when ordering a pizza. It was THAT bad. Somehow I got over this - I'm thinking it was the manymanymanymany many many M A N Y times I was forced to be with people. Trouble was, as my Freakazoid Aunt put it, "by the time you were 13 you were already WAY too smart for me and I didn't like talking to you because you would just throw it in my face that you knew everything, but you didn't know you did it, you just started talking and in one minute flat I was lost." To my defense she was on some form of blow through my entire formative years, but still, this is indicitive of how my mother had to fight like the dickens to get me socialized in a caliber of people that would suffice. Eventually the real world came and got me, but because I actually had a worthwhile personality but hid behind a solomn face, I was labeled BITCH by quite a few people who overheard my coolness in the hallways with my friends but who I apparently wouldn't give the time of day (because I was ready to vomit at the thought of looking THAT awsome person in the face).
Yeah. This is gonna be a tough list!
2) I was a band GEEK. I wasn't in the band, I was section leader, marching center of the entire squad, winning awards left and right at band camp, teaching the frosh how to behave in class, first to arrive when we had to be on the bus at 4:30am for a competition, telling the Band Aids what the requirements were for us to win all the appearance points, running with the instructors keys to get the room opened up for the tard who forgot to get his neckstrap, at EVERY SINGLE Varsity football game because thats when I could show off how loud I could blast my brass and how well my vocal chords could handle the cheers and shout backs. I was a trumpet player for 10 years. I was in marching band, concert band, and jazz band, where my second chair had me not hitting all the high notes (braces, ouch) but I was the ONLY one doing solos. Again, extremely painful to stand in front of everyone and literally toot my horn, but somehow the instructor got me through it. Go Scho!!!
I have it in my closet, I haven't picked it up in years, but I am convinced that this part of my experience built my "help others for the greater good of the whole" mentality that keeps me strapped in administrative work.
3) I cry. A lot. Like last night I was washing my face after watching TV and out of no where I broke into sobs, right there with my face under the spout. There was a heartfelt moment at the end of the show, and I got a little teary about the letter from beyond the grave apologizing for what he was sure everyone had found out about him (Brothers and Sisters, if you don't already, START WATCHING)... then pet the dog and got ready for bed only to find I flashed back to 2 years ago for almost no reason whatsoever. You'd THINK I'd be crying for my mom, who didn't get a chance to leave a letter before succumbing to her illness, but instead I heard something in Costco that had me flash to an ex and it had me snotting myself as I rinsed my face.
I'll cry in the car on the way to work. I'll take a morning break to let loose in the bathroom. I'll cry on the way home. I'll look at the dog and drop a tear. I'll have conversations with people who aren't there and cry until my stomach can't eek out another breath. I don't know why, I usually feel a release when I'm done, and its not every day, but I don't remember crying even a year ago so this is getting a bit worrysome now that I think about it. I'm either becoming fully realized as an emotional being or I'm falling apart at the seams. Stay tuned.
4) I am still extremely nieve. It took me until, well, about a year ago to understand what "White Lines" was singing about. I liked the song, and knew the words, but didn't know what they MEANT. I am still baffled when guys who SHOULD treat me well because they are trying to get BACK into my pants treat me like SHIT for exactly the same reason. I can't follow politics because I forget who does what jobs and where their effects reach before I read the next story. I am that chick who could have a plane crash over her head while she's picking a dandilion and wonder why everyone is running when she stands up. But, I am also extremely smart and observant of the little things, like when the waitress thought we were ready to order because our menus were closed, Sexy thought I was AMAZINGLY observant. I'm getting better, and I decided to keep my head buried when I realized that I would eventually grow up and there was no need to rush that. But I'm in my late 20's now and I am still a little embarrassed when my little sister and my boyfriend talk about shooting up vs. freebase vs. dropping parachutes and they both look at me and I get to say "uh huh, what you said" because I was too blinded by rear of the unknown to have anyone talk to me about it, let alone offer to let me try it.
5) I'm really ok with myself. I go through fits of disliking this or that, but I think its Flo who incites these insecurities. I know I am a growing expanding creative person who will never fulfill her full potential, and I am willing to be who I am right this minute on my way to being who I will become tomorrow. I don't hang on to memories because I don't want to be stuck as who I was then. I don't plan too much because I don't know who I will be when I get there and I do NOT want to be hindered by today's goals. I think I want to be thin, but I've always been heavy, and my size 12 waistline offers me a kind of classic Venitian curvature that I typically find attractive when I stand naked in the mirror. I remember the days when getting offered to go to the movies with a friend would get me hyperventilating with anxious anticipation... I'm glad I am not like that anymore... but even yesterday when Sexy came over and asked how I was my only response was "happy to see you" because I am still a bit like the shy girl who hit puberty and grew up before everyone else who is thrilled that someone wants to spend their time with her.
I am work in progress, and I know it, and 90% of my angst is from knowing deep down that opportunities are everywhere and I don't want to be the chickenshit I once was. The best thing I ever did for myself was follow my gut, but with all the coffee and multivitamins I've been taking I'm afraid my intuition might be skewed. I'm afraid to listen when things are good and only respond to the bad after a thurough going over in the mental side of things (which I hash out here for public scrutiny and support and approval). Somewhere in this Libran process of checks and balances, I know its what I need to do in order to stay on my right path and take advantage of what I can only when I am ready to... and for that I am comfortable knowing these pounds will stay on and the makeup will be applied and my friends list will be short and my work life will be a struggle of discontent and my home life will continue to test me in unphathomable ways. In the end though, I know its all good for me and I can take it and that I am the person I am meant to be right now. The fun is that who I am is Sassy, or Susie Sunshine, whoever peeks out that very minute, and the dominant is forever undecided =)
Alright. I'm talkative today. I made coffee and had to add a warmer to dilute the creamer explosion, then Would Be Boss asked if I wanted breakfast so instead of a protein shake I had a veggie omlette. I am PUMPED UP!!
I almost forgot to tag my 5... lets see...
Laurie, as a topic to post about in these non-Pirate days,
Christal, just because I really wonder what she hasn't put on display yet,
Curmudgeon, as I think the one liners would be quote worthy ;),
LBB, cuz who doesn't wonder what makes that guy tick??,
and, Stacey as I'm sure she would LOVE to be more entrenched in the Blogger world =)
Saturday, November 18, 2006
Notice
Spaz caught me last night.
Before I could get in the door enough to close it behind me.
Asked if was planning on staying, or if she should tell the property management company they can rent the place.
I asked, calmly, without showing the wild glee pulsing through my veins, if we were talking about January first.
She said YES.
I had to grab the side of the counter to keep from colapsing!!!!
Within the hour I was walking the dog and talking to Sister and convincing her how fucking cool it will be when she works at the restaurant around the corner and stops at the grocery store ON the corner and cooks to her hearts delight and I will come home to find my dog and her cat curled up on the landing together and we can both have boys over whenever we want without fear they will be eaten by some psychotic idiot dog and we can have a New Years party in our Beach House back yard.
She kinda panics at change.
She is resisting changing her shitty life.
I am trying my hardest to not knock her upside the head until she realizes that CHANGE IS GOOD when you complain about your life EVERY DAY.
Anyway, I might move January first too, just to keep the rent bill from eating my ENTIRE first paycheck of the month... or I might try my hand at waitressing at the 24hr Dennys within walking distance from this house... or just convince myself that I work 8-6 and use the overtime to keep up on the work and pay the bills.
Oh - FYI - I have benefits. I have a beneficiary. I am invested.
Well, as of January first I am.
I am a little freaked out about this phase of growing up. But I did it and I know its good for me and I will be getting a professional to polish my bright pearly whites for Valentines Day.
Random Tangent Alert!!! I talked to Sexy to find out he is finishing his homework before we play tonight, have another guy texting me to see if I can play with him tonight, another guy who randomly emailed to see if my 'taken' status has changed yet, and I bumped into the 22 year old I didn't sleep with that one time... all in the last half an hour.
Its like they can smell I'm in heat.
And the reasons to hate Flo just keep stack'n up.
Then again, my tits look fabulous this time of the month, so maybe thats the draw ;)
I am at the office because I have SO much work to do and I can't get online from home yet. If Sexy doesn't call me by 8pm I'm going to assume we partied WAY too hard for his must-watch-game-can't-take-nap ass last night and find a party of my own. With Sister and I being out twice already this week, I'm feeling pretty alright about walking up to a bar and seeing where the night takes me. God Help Me, with no cable at home there is nothing to distract me from having a real life! Somehow I'm reverting to my college dayz self, but I already relived the lameness of high school at the last house... at least this way I get to meet enough people to have the awkwardness of 4 would be fucks within reach on any given Saturday afternoon. Ah, College.
Focus. 8" stack of data entry MUST be gone by Monday Morning.
Ready...
Set...
Before I could get in the door enough to close it behind me.
Asked if was planning on staying, or if she should tell the property management company they can rent the place.
I asked, calmly, without showing the wild glee pulsing through my veins, if we were talking about January first.
She said YES.
I had to grab the side of the counter to keep from colapsing!!!!
Within the hour I was walking the dog and talking to Sister and convincing her how fucking cool it will be when she works at the restaurant around the corner and stops at the grocery store ON the corner and cooks to her hearts delight and I will come home to find my dog and her cat curled up on the landing together and we can both have boys over whenever we want without fear they will be eaten by some psychotic idiot dog and we can have a New Years party in our Beach House back yard.
She kinda panics at change.
She is resisting changing her shitty life.
I am trying my hardest to not knock her upside the head until she realizes that CHANGE IS GOOD when you complain about your life EVERY DAY.
Anyway, I might move January first too, just to keep the rent bill from eating my ENTIRE first paycheck of the month... or I might try my hand at waitressing at the 24hr Dennys within walking distance from this house... or just convince myself that I work 8-6 and use the overtime to keep up on the work and pay the bills.
Oh - FYI - I have benefits. I have a beneficiary. I am invested.
Well, as of January first I am.
I am a little freaked out about this phase of growing up. But I did it and I know its good for me and I will be getting a professional to polish my bright pearly whites for Valentines Day.
Random Tangent Alert!!! I talked to Sexy to find out he is finishing his homework before we play tonight, have another guy texting me to see if I can play with him tonight, another guy who randomly emailed to see if my 'taken' status has changed yet, and I bumped into the 22 year old I didn't sleep with that one time... all in the last half an hour.
Its like they can smell I'm in heat.
And the reasons to hate Flo just keep stack'n up.
Then again, my tits look fabulous this time of the month, so maybe thats the draw ;)
I am at the office because I have SO much work to do and I can't get online from home yet. If Sexy doesn't call me by 8pm I'm going to assume we partied WAY too hard for his must-watch-game-can't-take-nap ass last night and find a party of my own. With Sister and I being out twice already this week, I'm feeling pretty alright about walking up to a bar and seeing where the night takes me. God Help Me, with no cable at home there is nothing to distract me from having a real life! Somehow I'm reverting to my college dayz self, but I already relived the lameness of high school at the last house... at least this way I get to meet enough people to have the awkwardness of 4 would be fucks within reach on any given Saturday afternoon. Ah, College.
Focus. 8" stack of data entry MUST be gone by Monday Morning.
Ready...
Set...
Friday, November 17, 2006
Favors
I went out last night with Sister. We took up the offer by New Guy to have a drink to celebrate his new job. He was a bit boysterous and loud and repetative in his sentances, but he picked up our tab and went to the bar I picked and that was nice.
If our movie had ended closer to Grey's Anatomy, we would have missed stayed for the TV, and that would have been nice too.
So I give the new guy a welcome, take his shit for drinking a Tokyo Tea instead of his Newcastle, then get shit for drinking my 80 proof pint of drink slower than his 6.6% pint of beer, then I come in this morning to find out he won't be in til noon.
EDIT - ALL DAY. Pussy. His kid better be in the hospital or I'm ratting him out.
I told him and his friend I knew how to hold my own, and they laughed at me. The bartender and I shared a wink at how collected I was and how over the top they were, then we shared another wink when I heard the bill was about $100 and no one dropped a tip.
Thats right - my sister is telling them how she works in a restaurant and sees how hard she and her coworkers work for $7 and hour and PRAY that people recognize this isn't slavery days and its ok to tip the help and these fuckers walked out without a leaving a tip????
We sat at the bar, they were there at the corner when you walk into the place for about 3 hours, and thought the price of the drinks was enough to cover her time and effort to put up with the "I have half an inch in the bottom of my glass, come ask me again in a minute if I want another drink."
So I leaned over the bar and said "I'm sorry, did they leave you a tip?"
Politely she says "well, um, maybe like $10" as she shakes her head and looks at her feet.
Sister and I look at each other, look at her, she shrugs as we dive into our purses for any cash we have. While I was expecting that our $18 would pay for another round of drinks, we gladly forked over our hard earned cash to this woman's pocket for being stuck at the side of the bar with the boarish new guys who forget that pouring a beer with no foam deserves a tip.
Moving on, because the recount is pissing me the fuck off...
I get up this morning feelin fine, do my thing without the Brut so much as looking at me, get my quality time with my Gorgeous Girl without the baby talkin Spaz tossing breakfast scraps at her while calling her a fatty, and come out to find my duplex-wall-sharen neighbor wiping down my car.
Ok.
I see the hose and bucket and the shammee hand is on the side of my car facing his van, so I think "ah, he oversprayed and its swirling it around in the dust cloud that perfectly covered my car! Nice thought, I need a car wash anyway." Then I see the water on my tires as I approach... he says "hey there, you would not believe the amount of bird dung you had on your car, it looked like someone tossed a can of white paint, you wouldn't have been able to drive with it on there."
I look over my sparkling, dried, non swirled almost totally paid off and now I care that much more vehicle and said "so you washed my car for me?????? well, Thank You!! ok, um, thank you, I needed a car wash this weekend anyway so thanks, I've got to get to work, so have a great day!"Whew. A little weird, but who am I to complain? If I didn't just dump my cash into the bartenders pants I would have tipped him. I will find a way to repay, I swear.
So I'm driving to work wondering how long my granny smith apple for breakfast will tide me over in my shiny car and I'm flicking my hair toward the vents because I usually just open the windows to blowdry my hair but I didn't want to water mark the windows. I come in late, of course, to see that my coworker, in leiu of doughnuts as a thank you for the hard work I do, brought me an egg mcmuffin. =)=)
Happiness IS free food at 9am.
The day hits the fan, but I realize that there is nothing happening that I can do anything about and go on about my merry business while angry people gather in my lobby. I got a text from Sexy, who waited patiently in my lobby for me to tiddy up before molesting him in the hallway as we waited for the elevator to take us to lunch. We enjoy a table in the fresh air, had a yummy sandwich, played footsie under the table, had a kiss in the parking lot that melted my week away, and then back to the desk to try to make some kind of dent in the mass of post its and paper clips and needing to be filed documents before my end of week meeting with the boss to tell her that it is STILL too much work, no matter how much free food I get.
But you know what? I feel totally stress free about sitting here in piles up to my eyes... good Sister time followed by good pupster time followed by good deeds coming back on me followed by good food and great Sexy somehow has me realizing that this is a JOB and I will catch up eventually and life is too short to hate your minutes away when you have a chance to ride the wave of a good happy buzz on a Friday afternoon. =)
TGIF and all that kitchy shit; if you are really nice you can stand real close and catch some of my happy molecules off of me, but you'd better make it quick cuz we all know I can turn super sour with a quickness.
If our movie had ended closer to Grey's Anatomy, we would have missed stayed for the TV, and that would have been nice too.
So I give the new guy a welcome, take his shit for drinking a Tokyo Tea instead of his Newcastle, then get shit for drinking my 80 proof pint of drink slower than his 6.6% pint of beer, then I come in this morning to find out he won't be in til noon.
EDIT - ALL DAY. Pussy. His kid better be in the hospital or I'm ratting him out.
I told him and his friend I knew how to hold my own, and they laughed at me. The bartender and I shared a wink at how collected I was and how over the top they were, then we shared another wink when I heard the bill was about $100 and no one dropped a tip.
Thats right - my sister is telling them how she works in a restaurant and sees how hard she and her coworkers work for $7 and hour and PRAY that people recognize this isn't slavery days and its ok to tip the help and these fuckers walked out without a leaving a tip????
We sat at the bar, they were there at the corner when you walk into the place for about 3 hours, and thought the price of the drinks was enough to cover her time and effort to put up with the "I have half an inch in the bottom of my glass, come ask me again in a minute if I want another drink."
So I leaned over the bar and said "I'm sorry, did they leave you a tip?"
Politely she says "well, um, maybe like $10" as she shakes her head and looks at her feet.
Sister and I look at each other, look at her, she shrugs as we dive into our purses for any cash we have. While I was expecting that our $18 would pay for another round of drinks, we gladly forked over our hard earned cash to this woman's pocket for being stuck at the side of the bar with the boarish new guys who forget that pouring a beer with no foam deserves a tip.
Moving on, because the recount is pissing me the fuck off...
I get up this morning feelin fine, do my thing without the Brut so much as looking at me, get my quality time with my Gorgeous Girl without the baby talkin Spaz tossing breakfast scraps at her while calling her a fatty, and come out to find my duplex-wall-sharen neighbor wiping down my car.
Ok.
I see the hose and bucket and the shammee hand is on the side of my car facing his van, so I think "ah, he oversprayed and its swirling it around in the dust cloud that perfectly covered my car! Nice thought, I need a car wash anyway." Then I see the water on my tires as I approach... he says "hey there, you would not believe the amount of bird dung you had on your car, it looked like someone tossed a can of white paint, you wouldn't have been able to drive with it on there."
I look over my sparkling, dried, non swirled almost totally paid off and now I care that much more vehicle and said "so you washed my car for me?????? well, Thank You!! ok, um, thank you, I needed a car wash this weekend anyway so thanks, I've got to get to work, so have a great day!"Whew. A little weird, but who am I to complain? If I didn't just dump my cash into the bartenders pants I would have tipped him. I will find a way to repay, I swear.
So I'm driving to work wondering how long my granny smith apple for breakfast will tide me over in my shiny car and I'm flicking my hair toward the vents because I usually just open the windows to blowdry my hair but I didn't want to water mark the windows. I come in late, of course, to see that my coworker, in leiu of doughnuts as a thank you for the hard work I do, brought me an egg mcmuffin. =)=)
Happiness IS free food at 9am.
The day hits the fan, but I realize that there is nothing happening that I can do anything about and go on about my merry business while angry people gather in my lobby. I got a text from Sexy, who waited patiently in my lobby for me to tiddy up before molesting him in the hallway as we waited for the elevator to take us to lunch. We enjoy a table in the fresh air, had a yummy sandwich, played footsie under the table, had a kiss in the parking lot that melted my week away, and then back to the desk to try to make some kind of dent in the mass of post its and paper clips and needing to be filed documents before my end of week meeting with the boss to tell her that it is STILL too much work, no matter how much free food I get.
But you know what? I feel totally stress free about sitting here in piles up to my eyes... good Sister time followed by good pupster time followed by good deeds coming back on me followed by good food and great Sexy somehow has me realizing that this is a JOB and I will catch up eventually and life is too short to hate your minutes away when you have a chance to ride the wave of a good happy buzz on a Friday afternoon. =)
TGIF and all that kitchy shit; if you are really nice you can stand real close and catch some of my happy molecules off of me, but you'd better make it quick cuz we all know I can turn super sour with a quickness.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Another Bitch Fit
I have been told I've been a bit upbeat lately.
I guess some people don't like when I get laid frequently.
Or they're jeleous and complain to hide it.
Either way, I will go "back to the good old days" of whining my post away.
Ready???
no? fuck. fine. get your shit guard up, cuz I'm about to sling it, I'll wait.
I have too much work to do. I got permission to take time to JUST WORK NO DISTRACTIONS GET YOUR OWN DAMN PHONES AND DO NOT TAP ME ON THE SHOULDER BECAUSE I AM WORKING HERE every day for at least an hour a day. Its Wednesday. Yes, its my fault for not being more forceful about my time, but when 2 of our 3 people are out and I'm training the new guy, how the fuck is it a help to anyone if I say "I need my space, deal with it"?? So I think of implimenting our new system tomorrow, but I'm invited to a neighboring office to see how they operate and try to steal some hints on how to keep up on work. The phones have been slow, but the "hey, can you do this?" emails take me 15 minutes each to deal with and come 5 at a time every 20 minutes. Add that shit up. Catch up??? Well, there goes that idea. Maybe next week, when I've got my shit together and I'm good and sick of seeing this shit on my desk.
Next. Flo can suck my fuzzy white wide but freakishly strong ass. There is no reason in the history of insanity to have me aching as I finally fall asleep and then wake my sorry ass up at 5am to say "I made it!!! Roll out the soon to be red carpet and I hope you have baby wipes instead of toilet paper in there cuz I brought BAGGAGE BABY!!!"
The pisser - if I woke up at 6am I would have sucked it up, ate something, chowed half a bottle of ibuprofin, and came into work for an early day (as Sister has a weekly ritual of spending all her days off at my house and Wednesday is the kickoff to the party). As it stands, I tryed and tryed to get some of the pain to disipate with proper pillow placement and master breathing skills and damn if it didn't take me like 45 minutes to pass back out!!! You know what that means... I was DEAD ASLEEP and dream'n of some hottie all wrapped up on me. I don't remember WHO because of the PANIC I was in when I finally heard my 7am alarm at 8:10am, but whatever, right??
Moving on. I'm looped on ibus and trying to stay lucid and Sister came to save me and take me to lunch and we had coconut shrimp and chips with the coleslaw and a side of ceviche tostada. YUM, I agree, but DAMN if I wasn't being a good girl and not eating shit today and had a deep fried lunch. Now I'm full but needing nutrition and already leaking and remembering the Month of BabyShitSmearForTurds that was my quest to make the Costco sized bottle of vitamins take only ONE year to deplete... If I'm running to the bathroom with my knees squeezed every 92 minutes anyway, does it matter which hole is the culprit?? Somehow, I think yes. But with a $20 lunch, I'm not sure I'll be having anything but trail mix and lite beer for dinner, so why not get started early. My evening will revolve around sitting on the pot anyway.
Last one. I got paid today. I've spent a shitload of money the last two weeks. I have 3 uncleared transactions and my checking account balance is, this minute, EXACTLY (like on the fucking dollar) what I need to pay off my car TODAY. fuckity fuck. So do I pay part and another part with the Dec 1st paycheck (aka raped by rent and leaving so little to eat with I rarely leave the housewith my ATM card in hand)??? Or do I suck it up that I transfered an extrodinant amount to my savings account, transfer it back, and admit that at this point in my life I am meant to pay off debt and go on trips and not have a swollen stash of cash for a rainy day.
Don't get me wrong, I'll still have a savings account bigger than 90% of uninvested people in my age bracket. But I wanted to be super flush in case of emergency and I'll be back down to 'cover a month' or 'make it to the funeral' or 'thank God it was just a water pump' status instead of "sure, I can do Hawaii, what are the dates?" status.
Then again, I did say I'd do a vacation this year. I'm told life is too short not to appreciate it while you've got it. I want to live with no regrets, and passing up Hawaii becuase I'm afraid to spend money is about the lamest thing this big busted band geek has ever thought up.
But I can still be pissed that Target had SO much stuff on sale and that ALL my bras stopped working the same week and that I needed to EAT at the same time my self imposed bill's due date came.
I have to go do my best to keep the bathroom from resembling the remnents of a slaughter house... I'm not sure I wasn't abducted by aliens but I'm pretty sure I'm trying to birth some kind of spawn today.
Either that of Flo hates the way I talk about her, in which case you all can puke on your keyboards at all the sappy shit I post about me and my guy and his Shag'n Wagon because fuck I hate hating my body this much.
At least the Sexy talk makes me smile. Flo does not make me smile. She makes me wince in pain. Sexy is pretty and kisses me. Flo makes me feel like I've peed my pants - though he IS winning the wet panty contest, but he gets the other 25 days a month and has to earn his keep somehow.
Maybe Sister has some concoction of excedrin and tylonol and vodka and pineapple juice that can make me forget that its 5pm and I still have a monster stack of data entry and am bringing an alien life form into this world. Wish me, my sister, and tonights cleaning crew luck...
I guess some people don't like when I get laid frequently.
Or they're jeleous and complain to hide it.
Either way, I will go "back to the good old days" of whining my post away.
Ready???
no? fuck. fine. get your shit guard up, cuz I'm about to sling it, I'll wait.
I have too much work to do. I got permission to take time to JUST WORK NO DISTRACTIONS GET YOUR OWN DAMN PHONES AND DO NOT TAP ME ON THE SHOULDER BECAUSE I AM WORKING HERE every day for at least an hour a day. Its Wednesday. Yes, its my fault for not being more forceful about my time, but when 2 of our 3 people are out and I'm training the new guy, how the fuck is it a help to anyone if I say "I need my space, deal with it"?? So I think of implimenting our new system tomorrow, but I'm invited to a neighboring office to see how they operate and try to steal some hints on how to keep up on work. The phones have been slow, but the "hey, can you do this?" emails take me 15 minutes each to deal with and come 5 at a time every 20 minutes. Add that shit up. Catch up??? Well, there goes that idea. Maybe next week, when I've got my shit together and I'm good and sick of seeing this shit on my desk.
Next. Flo can suck my fuzzy white wide but freakishly strong ass. There is no reason in the history of insanity to have me aching as I finally fall asleep and then wake my sorry ass up at 5am to say "I made it!!! Roll out the soon to be red carpet and I hope you have baby wipes instead of toilet paper in there cuz I brought BAGGAGE BABY!!!"
The pisser - if I woke up at 6am I would have sucked it up, ate something, chowed half a bottle of ibuprofin, and came into work for an early day (as Sister has a weekly ritual of spending all her days off at my house and Wednesday is the kickoff to the party). As it stands, I tryed and tryed to get some of the pain to disipate with proper pillow placement and master breathing skills and damn if it didn't take me like 45 minutes to pass back out!!! You know what that means... I was DEAD ASLEEP and dream'n of some hottie all wrapped up on me. I don't remember WHO because of the PANIC I was in when I finally heard my 7am alarm at 8:10am, but whatever, right??
Moving on. I'm looped on ibus and trying to stay lucid and Sister came to save me and take me to lunch and we had coconut shrimp and chips with the coleslaw and a side of ceviche tostada. YUM, I agree, but DAMN if I wasn't being a good girl and not eating shit today and had a deep fried lunch. Now I'm full but needing nutrition and already leaking and remembering the Month of BabyShitSmearForTurds that was my quest to make the Costco sized bottle of vitamins take only ONE year to deplete... If I'm running to the bathroom with my knees squeezed every 92 minutes anyway, does it matter which hole is the culprit?? Somehow, I think yes. But with a $20 lunch, I'm not sure I'll be having anything but trail mix and lite beer for dinner, so why not get started early. My evening will revolve around sitting on the pot anyway.
Last one. I got paid today. I've spent a shitload of money the last two weeks. I have 3 uncleared transactions and my checking account balance is, this minute, EXACTLY (like on the fucking dollar) what I need to pay off my car TODAY. fuckity fuck. So do I pay part and another part with the Dec 1st paycheck (aka raped by rent and leaving so little to eat with I rarely leave the housewith my ATM card in hand)??? Or do I suck it up that I transfered an extrodinant amount to my savings account, transfer it back, and admit that at this point in my life I am meant to pay off debt and go on trips and not have a swollen stash of cash for a rainy day.
Don't get me wrong, I'll still have a savings account bigger than 90% of uninvested people in my age bracket. But I wanted to be super flush in case of emergency and I'll be back down to 'cover a month' or 'make it to the funeral' or 'thank God it was just a water pump' status instead of "sure, I can do Hawaii, what are the dates?" status.
Then again, I did say I'd do a vacation this year. I'm told life is too short not to appreciate it while you've got it. I want to live with no regrets, and passing up Hawaii becuase I'm afraid to spend money is about the lamest thing this big busted band geek has ever thought up.
But I can still be pissed that Target had SO much stuff on sale and that ALL my bras stopped working the same week and that I needed to EAT at the same time my self imposed bill's due date came.
I have to go do my best to keep the bathroom from resembling the remnents of a slaughter house... I'm not sure I wasn't abducted by aliens but I'm pretty sure I'm trying to birth some kind of spawn today.
Either that of Flo hates the way I talk about her, in which case you all can puke on your keyboards at all the sappy shit I post about me and my guy and his Shag'n Wagon because fuck I hate hating my body this much.
At least the Sexy talk makes me smile. Flo does not make me smile. She makes me wince in pain. Sexy is pretty and kisses me. Flo makes me feel like I've peed my pants - though he IS winning the wet panty contest, but he gets the other 25 days a month and has to earn his keep somehow.
Maybe Sister has some concoction of excedrin and tylonol and vodka and pineapple juice that can make me forget that its 5pm and I still have a monster stack of data entry and am bringing an alien life form into this world. Wish me, my sister, and tonights cleaning crew luck...
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Coma
I am in shock that Spaz told me she'd be gone for the weekend but came home Saturday night in the new version of MY CAR.
She knows the dealer and got a great deal, blah blah. It still reminded me of "Single White Female" and I'm a little too excited to see she is dying her hair blonde instead of my chestnut brown this go round.
I'm dazed by the idea that Sister is turning down normal day jobs that pay $3 more an hour than her current place because she works sooooo many hours a day at the current place that its about even in the scope of things - and she doesn't want to leave them understaffed. It baffles me that she has that much dedication to her workplace but that somehow last year I paid a deposit on a cell phone because her Family Share'n ass let our account default too long and I was communicationless for 2 months.
I am gluttonously giddy with the french vanilla creamered coffee lasting into the early afternoon, the chocolate crusted and caramel swirl topped cheesecake taking the place of lunch as I was too busy getting my cervix massaged by a certain male member until the windows were fogged and our bodies were covered in tiny persperation beads that made sitting up an absolute challenge against passing out from the dizzying overload of endorphins to the brain. We actually laid against each other just catching our breath and blinking hard for at least 2 minutes, then set a date to have 'lunches leftovers' for dinner. =)
Maybe I'll have gotten some work done by then, maybe not, but this particular afternoon I am living life as if it were my last day and my goodness the joys of being a grown ass woman are, if only for the moment, mighty sweet.
Now, if I could only get my eyes to deglaze from the shock and dazed and gluttony of the pleasures of the flesh, maybe I could see whats on my desk and earn my keep.
EDIT: My coworker ordered in lunch because we are short staffed today. She ORDERED me to come eat with her, saying that my taking lunch early and shortening it for her to make her noon meeting meant I SURELY didn't have time to eat. I blinked. She said "well, you wanted to go at 11:30am to meet up with Sexy, right? (yes she calls him Sexy, and she calls me Sassy. Its hilarious to hear out loud in real life :) ) So that means 30 minutes isn't enough to make out AND eat. I was sure you didn't eat, because why would you leave for him if you weren't going to make out with him? So here, take some beef and brocolli."
I thanked her profusely, said I appreciated her understanding. We bonded over the idea of taking every lovely smile inducing thing in this life and savoring it, then giggled like school girls about how I was savoring Sexy.
Its been hours and I'm still in my nooner coma. Coffee nor water nor food is cracking the glaze of delight. Poor me ;)
She knows the dealer and got a great deal, blah blah. It still reminded me of "Single White Female" and I'm a little too excited to see she is dying her hair blonde instead of my chestnut brown this go round.
I'm dazed by the idea that Sister is turning down normal day jobs that pay $3 more an hour than her current place because she works sooooo many hours a day at the current place that its about even in the scope of things - and she doesn't want to leave them understaffed. It baffles me that she has that much dedication to her workplace but that somehow last year I paid a deposit on a cell phone because her Family Share'n ass let our account default too long and I was communicationless for 2 months.
I am gluttonously giddy with the french vanilla creamered coffee lasting into the early afternoon, the chocolate crusted and caramel swirl topped cheesecake taking the place of lunch as I was too busy getting my cervix massaged by a certain male member until the windows were fogged and our bodies were covered in tiny persperation beads that made sitting up an absolute challenge against passing out from the dizzying overload of endorphins to the brain. We actually laid against each other just catching our breath and blinking hard for at least 2 minutes, then set a date to have 'lunches leftovers' for dinner. =)
Maybe I'll have gotten some work done by then, maybe not, but this particular afternoon I am living life as if it were my last day and my goodness the joys of being a grown ass woman are, if only for the moment, mighty sweet.
Now, if I could only get my eyes to deglaze from the shock and dazed and gluttony of the pleasures of the flesh, maybe I could see whats on my desk and earn my keep.
EDIT: My coworker ordered in lunch because we are short staffed today. She ORDERED me to come eat with her, saying that my taking lunch early and shortening it for her to make her noon meeting meant I SURELY didn't have time to eat. I blinked. She said "well, you wanted to go at 11:30am to meet up with Sexy, right? (yes she calls him Sexy, and she calls me Sassy. Its hilarious to hear out loud in real life :) ) So that means 30 minutes isn't enough to make out AND eat. I was sure you didn't eat, because why would you leave for him if you weren't going to make out with him? So here, take some beef and brocolli."
I thanked her profusely, said I appreciated her understanding. We bonded over the idea of taking every lovely smile inducing thing in this life and savoring it, then giggled like school girls about how I was savoring Sexy.
Its been hours and I'm still in my nooner coma. Coffee nor water nor food is cracking the glaze of delight. Poor me ;)
Friday, November 10, 2006
Can't... Breathe.... Too... Excited...
Its been a rough couple of days ya'll.
Meeting with the Boss at lunch in a real restaurant to talk about where we are at which ended up giving me a shit list of things to present at the now MANDITORY Monday Morning Meeting. I said its too much work, she gave me a special project to tell everyone how to make my life easier. Doesn't help much this week though.
I tried to get laid in severe amounts this week but unfortunatly my boy toy has responsibilities like JOBS and COLLEGE and can't really accomodate my every whim from 20 miles away.
I look at all my workout clothes and somehow end up curled in my blankets by 7pm most nights. Sometimes I get up later, sometimes I don't. Flo can suck it for giving me this kind of dramatic change in daily life more than a week before her arrival.
Sister bit the bullet and cut a deal with her last creditor so now we can FINALLY realistically talk about what its gonna take for her to move out of my Freakazoid Aunt's house. We have gone over and over what a WRONG situation that place is for her and finally there is a real light coming through the end of the tunnel.
Sister and I decided Tday was a better holiday to visit on, even if all we get is a bag of turkey to take home instead of a trunk of trinkets, and she works til 2pm Wednesday and 9am on Saturday so it will be a VERY short trip.
And then, after all this slothen-ness and weights on my psyche and heavy boggs dragging behind my every move, I hear something this morning that makes it all seem to lift away in an instant.
The dreamy part is, my sister was there to hear it, so there is no way I can twist it around - it was actually said and there is no denying it.
Spaz is returning to Orange County this weekend, where she spent last weekend, and as she is telling me this she spits out "well, I guess I should tell you, I'm going down there to look at places to live because I am going to be moving back down there. I'll surely give you 30 days notice, but maybe your sister could come in and cover the rent?"
Y E A H B A B Y !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I said "I kinda thought you were leaning that way after last weekend, but I appreciate the notice, just keep me updated and we'll see what is where when you find a place."
tehehe.
She went upstairs to get ready, sister was in the living room, I leaned over the couch and said "do you hear that??? no more dog that howls, no more not being able to get in the kitchen, no more storing my towels 20 feet from the shower, no more being told how to mop a floor... aaahhhhhheeehehehehehehe... I don't even need to get laid anymore I'm so thrilled!!!"
Then I came to work and remebered that no matter how my home life changes, I am still committing myself emotional sucide in my current rut, and I need to bust ass one of these days (like a weekend when no more work can get piled up) and get to zero on a few projects so I have a fighting chance at staying up to date... but the idea that I could have my pink slip and my own hand picked roomate by Christmas!!!!???!?!?! We'll, its trumping my desire to wreak my cuticles in a file cabinet, if you know what I mean.
Happy Friday!!! Sister is coming in to apply for a real money making job today, she might end up being my bitch at the file cabinet, I am dressed well enough to get through the work day and go STRAIGHT to a dinner/bar and still get a drink bought for me, I think I have lunch plans, there is 4 kinds of chocolate cheesecake in the fridge ready to celebrate my coworkers birthday ::devil horns:: =) Oh, and even with a maple bar, a glazed, and a chocolate muffin all waiting for me, I had oatmeal for breakfast... and after yesterdays bitchy afternoon caffeine headache, I remembered my cup of tea to go with it.
Its all coming together!!
EDIT: A way to make any day better is to treat yourself right by starting with a good nights sleep, some good attention to the dog in the morning, float on a cloud of giddy happiness as you stroll into work on time, respect yourself by avoiding the doughnuts, get some serious productive work done, continue to respect yourself with the salad topped with seared albacore, then get really ground into the carpet in the back of a hatchback by a young buck who couldn't wait to get his tounge to your tonsils and get your juices flowen TWICE before politely kissing you at your office doorstep and saying he'd love to spend the day with you and your sister tomorrow.
Makes the afternoon a lot less of a drag if you can get your day started that way.
TGIF has a whole new meaning =)
Meeting with the Boss at lunch in a real restaurant to talk about where we are at which ended up giving me a shit list of things to present at the now MANDITORY Monday Morning Meeting. I said its too much work, she gave me a special project to tell everyone how to make my life easier. Doesn't help much this week though.
I tried to get laid in severe amounts this week but unfortunatly my boy toy has responsibilities like JOBS and COLLEGE and can't really accomodate my every whim from 20 miles away.
I look at all my workout clothes and somehow end up curled in my blankets by 7pm most nights. Sometimes I get up later, sometimes I don't. Flo can suck it for giving me this kind of dramatic change in daily life more than a week before her arrival.
Sister bit the bullet and cut a deal with her last creditor so now we can FINALLY realistically talk about what its gonna take for her to move out of my Freakazoid Aunt's house. We have gone over and over what a WRONG situation that place is for her and finally there is a real light coming through the end of the tunnel.
Sister and I decided Tday was a better holiday to visit on, even if all we get is a bag of turkey to take home instead of a trunk of trinkets, and she works til 2pm Wednesday and 9am on Saturday so it will be a VERY short trip.
And then, after all this slothen-ness and weights on my psyche and heavy boggs dragging behind my every move, I hear something this morning that makes it all seem to lift away in an instant.
The dreamy part is, my sister was there to hear it, so there is no way I can twist it around - it was actually said and there is no denying it.
Spaz is returning to Orange County this weekend, where she spent last weekend, and as she is telling me this she spits out "well, I guess I should tell you, I'm going down there to look at places to live because I am going to be moving back down there. I'll surely give you 30 days notice, but maybe your sister could come in and cover the rent?"
Y E A H B A B Y !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I said "I kinda thought you were leaning that way after last weekend, but I appreciate the notice, just keep me updated and we'll see what is where when you find a place."
tehehe.
She went upstairs to get ready, sister was in the living room, I leaned over the couch and said "do you hear that??? no more dog that howls, no more not being able to get in the kitchen, no more storing my towels 20 feet from the shower, no more being told how to mop a floor... aaahhhhhheeehehehehehehe... I don't even need to get laid anymore I'm so thrilled!!!"
Then I came to work and remebered that no matter how my home life changes, I am still committing myself emotional sucide in my current rut, and I need to bust ass one of these days (like a weekend when no more work can get piled up) and get to zero on a few projects so I have a fighting chance at staying up to date... but the idea that I could have my pink slip and my own hand picked roomate by Christmas!!!!???!?!?! We'll, its trumping my desire to wreak my cuticles in a file cabinet, if you know what I mean.
Happy Friday!!! Sister is coming in to apply for a real money making job today, she might end up being my bitch at the file cabinet, I am dressed well enough to get through the work day and go STRAIGHT to a dinner/bar and still get a drink bought for me, I think I have lunch plans, there is 4 kinds of chocolate cheesecake in the fridge ready to celebrate my coworkers birthday ::devil horns:: =) Oh, and even with a maple bar, a glazed, and a chocolate muffin all waiting for me, I had oatmeal for breakfast... and after yesterdays bitchy afternoon caffeine headache, I remembered my cup of tea to go with it.
Its all coming together!!
EDIT: A way to make any day better is to treat yourself right by starting with a good nights sleep, some good attention to the dog in the morning, float on a cloud of giddy happiness as you stroll into work on time, respect yourself by avoiding the doughnuts, get some serious productive work done, continue to respect yourself with the salad topped with seared albacore, then get really ground into the carpet in the back of a hatchback by a young buck who couldn't wait to get his tounge to your tonsils and get your juices flowen TWICE before politely kissing you at your office doorstep and saying he'd love to spend the day with you and your sister tomorrow.
Makes the afternoon a lot less of a drag if you can get your day started that way.
TGIF has a whole new meaning =)
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