Tuesday, October 31, 2006

The Time Change

Seriously, I NEED to find a way to get the fuck out of bed and off to work for an 8am shift.
There has GOT to be a way to convince myself that MY goals matter.
Something has to be exciting enough for me to get out of bed and out of they house at quarter to 8am.
I laid the running shoes next to the alarm clock, to remind me that my body HATES not being active and the walk at meander speed with the dog does NOT count.
I put a post-it over the clock so I couldn't see that I could sleep in, hoping that whenever I rolled over I'd just hop to and get going.
I left the window over the bed open in the chilly fog filled beachy night evening so I could hear the rustling of Spaz and Brut and KNOW I had at least an hour to do my thing, uninterupted, before they came home.

Yet somehow there is NO WAY my ass is rolling out of bed before the absolute last second possible. I'm not back to putting my makeup on in the car yet, but the lipstick waits for the driveway and I have to pick hairstyles that disguise that my hair is still wet when I get to my desk.

My coworkers are no help on this front. "Whatever works best for you, if you want to come in at 9:30 and take a 1/2 hr lunch, thats fine too!"

Its up to me. It needs to be an internal motivation situation. Trouble is, I AM NOT A MORNING PERSON. I've tried. I can be places at 5am no problem, but a regular 9am job does NOT get me goin.
Mantras, affirmations, slingshot rigged pillows, military trumpeteers... any of you're input is desperatly requested.
Worst case scenario, I will become accustomed to being howled at for 15 minutes every morning, never eating breakfast, being given a chore list through a closed bathroom door, and getting walked in on in the shower and politely being rushed out.
I'm already borderline FUCKING BITCH AT ALL TIMES, with a bit of fanatical nutjob on the side, and my emotional callus is about 10" thick about now... if we could work on keeping the Sass online and keep the "isn't she sweet" persona in real life, I'm sure it will be a wise career move. That, or I get to throw bitch fits every morning and every night until Spaz says she wants to move out again and I can get a roomie who will stick to a fucking schedule.
Oooohhhhh... maybe I'll rig HER room with military trumpeteers blarring... blame it on the neighbor on her side of the house... say I don't hear a thing... I could have a new roomie for December 1st!!!!

Either way, tell me what you've got, I'm ready to try anything.

Monday, October 30, 2006

Fuck, Jager, and Other Fairly Odd Tales

I had a naked 22 year old Italian boy in my bed Friday night and I didn't fuck him.

I spend a day with a maybe-could-be-awsome-but-won't-let-us-be-in-a-relationship guy only to spend the evening with Lamer #3, Coors Light, and Jager shots.

I didn't unpack one more thing, do any laundry, hang any pictures, or even hang up the clothes I finally got out of the trash bag they came from the laundramat in 10 days ago.

My roomie went on a date for the first time since I can't tell when, which I LOVE, because she was too distracted having a life to judge mine.

I've asked no less than 3 guys this question directly, to which none of them could give me a straight answer, and its kinda rubben my last nerve... "what is it about me that has us talking about sex within the first HOUR of knowing each other, and you would gladly bed me in the same hour, but there is an obvious adverse reaction to the idea of making me your girlfriend??"

Its still hard to get out of bed in the mornings, but the idea of getting out of the house before Brut comes home to tell me all about his walk was enough to get me to the office early enough to chill at the downstairs Starbucks for 20 minutes before coming in 15 minutes early... and I still got barked at for 10 minutes before I could get my shoes on and go. Spaz making excuses for him does NOT help my morning.

I dropped in on my sister at her work/restaurant, and only paid $11 for 2 drinks and 2 meals. Gotta love knowing the register operator.

I think I might really hate my current body enough to stop buying running shoes and 8 lb weights and start USING the running shoes and 8 lb weights. We'll see if my evenings can start revolving around wind in my hair instead of beer in my gut. I think it might take a real emotional reaction to my reflection to get me off the couch; right now I am just complacent to be the cute but chubby girl with the bright smile who would be perfect if she could just be more of a Barbie girl.

I think I might detatch from TV altogether. I loved my Tivo, but now I find myself having to be home at 9pm. As a night owl by DNA, it is energy cycle suicide to sit still for an hour at this time of night.

I changed half my clocks this weekend, making it VERY confusing to meet someone for lunch at 12:30 and not knowing if they switched their clocks yet. It was nice to wake up to sunshine this morning, but I fear I'll have to get up THAT.Much.Earlier to miss Spaz and Brut in the mornings. Of course I could get off work while the sun is still out, that would be a nice change too.

Last week I had a tiny tiny tiny splinter in my thumb for two days that I eventually turned into a blister of spit from sucking my thumb to loosen the skin and get the bugger out. I finally got it, and I just noticed on the opposite hand but the same spot I have a big whole where a spliter could have used to have been. Very weird how one could rule my world for 48 hours and the other came and went without notice but left a wound to be remembered by.

Now I'm just babbling. Time to focus on all the work they forgot to do for the last 7 weeks that they are now piling on my Monday Morning Load of Shit To Do. I think, with the receptionist being fired and my trying to do all her work and mine, and my being educated and having the big expensive gold sticker on the nice paper to prove it, its time to count the days until I will be asking for a raise, whadayathink?

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Back that Thang Up

I'm not saying its for you... but if it is... sometimes its nice to do it often enough to remember the tricks of the trick, if you know what I mean.
In true Laurie style, I found myself thinking I was being my sly self and sneaking a pootie bootie whisper fart in bed while he rolled over and decided to pet the dog instead of really get up... only to find that once a year back door fun leaves you forgetting all those sexy little side effects of raunchie porn style fun... A faint whiff of lube and a sudden wet feeling had me rememebering just how much love lotion was used and BAM! I was out of bed and in the shower in two shakes of a lamb's tail. Yeah, gets the day off to a lovely beginning when you shart yourself next to your Mr. FuckMeRightNow.
For future reference, take the moment to unload your party favors before turning in for the night... no one likes to be reminded of junk in the trunk in the morning.
Somehow I got over it... lemme think... oh, yeah, coming out of the shower to get tamed by the one eyed snake before my hair quit dripping... then the endless compliments in the driveway about my hair and heels and makeup and smile before heading off to work... yeah, that'll work.

Monday, October 23, 2006


I have decided God loves me.
There is no other reason for him to spend so much time setting up these challenges for me all right in a row like this.

The Spaz Roomie is certifyable in her ability to do a complete 180 in thought processes. Sometimes its as simple as "you need to put your foot down and not let Sexy do that to you... but if you want to keep the perks, I wouldn't blame you!"
Other times its telling me she will move out at noon and inviting me and Sexy and my sister and anyone else I want to have over for...

get this...

an intervention FOR HER DOG so we can all live happily in the house and have guests over without him mauling them.
She tells me this as I walk in the back door, pet the Brut, who then sniffs my sand and surf soaked pup, comes back at me with two paws to the chest with a bark to the face and a grab of the forearm on the way down... then gives me the evil stink eye for my reaction of "Brut, NNNOOO, no biting, no barking, no jumping!!! Its ME, Brut, look, its meeeee and I've BEEN HERE for FOUR minutes?!!?! What was that???"
She then gives him his choice of 4 colors of dog buscuits.
I'm going to ask this once - who needs the intervention if he gets TREATS FOR BITING PEOPLE????

God Loves MEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh.
Before I could even post this Fucked Up Drama, I've had 3 encounters with FuckAss Sexy, another What the Fuck with Spaz Roomie and her Psycho Brut Dog From Neurotic Hell, and an internal auditor at my work.
For a little perspective, I grabbed a bottle of gatorade from my nightstand for a little something in my tummy before I got to work where my breakfast is (instant oatmeal with the super hot tea water = perfect for instant chowage). It had vodka in it from when I came home last night and needed a mixer to keep me from suckling the bottle.
I drank it anyway.
To find out my sister and Sexy and me AND MY DOG have all been lunged at by Brut, to have my manager get reamed and have her spew leftover blame to anyone in the office, to watch Spaz run through a train of thought TWICE before I can even blink and say good morning... and to have no one to go to for sex... well, I'm getting the impression that roller coasters and moving days are NOT sufficient relief from the day to day and perhaps its time for a REAL vacation (thank you commenters for your astute observation =)=) )

"If God brings you to it, God will bring you through it."
I know God loves me... there is no other reason he would pay so much attention to me, setting up all these hurdles and then lifting me over them.
Now, how do you piss off God enough to make him leave you alone?? I'm being VERY careful with my prayers... if I ask for patience or forgiveness or independence or responsibility... all of these have pictures of "BeDazzled" Elizabeth Hurley turning Brenden Frasier into the most outlandish versions of his wishes - if I didn't even ASK for a lesson to learn and this is what my life is, there is no FUCKING way I'm gonna walk into that hell trap.
Pray for my liver ya'll. Seriously, Costco is RIGHT around the corner. Beer Run has a whole 'nuther meaning these days. They sell vitamins to though... kinda makes me feel better for eyeing the case of brews and wondering if one a week is too much.

Sunday, October 22, 2006

Fuck This Witch

I'm at the office.
On a Sunday.
The program we use as a database won't load.
The only thing I was going to do was data entry.
There goes the "lets start fresh on Monday" buzz.

So here I am, finding my thoughts via public journal AGAIN.
The roomie hasn't talked to me all weekend.
I kinda got a side smile when we passed on the stairs today, but no TALKING.
As I'm getting some food and a glass of water before jetting out the door to meet my coworker to see if MY login can get her the number of someone she needs to fire from tomorrow's job, she blurts out "this isn't gonna work. I'm gonna move out. The neighbors were very upset that you had a bootie call the other night. This just isn't gonna work."

Let me back up.
I babbled my little heart out, then edited it all for you, my favorite confidants, because I am really proud of myself for not having to recap every word of every conversation in print anymore.
Long long long story short, Sexy called a few times, had directions to my place, ended up coming over, its WAY too cold at the beach at 1am so when my toes froze over I decided we could talk in my room instead of in the backyard, Brut Dog throws a howling fit on the stairs (not the 10 minutes we were out back or the 5 we were in the house), Spaz Roomie has NO control over him so it takes a while to get Brut into her room to shut the fuck up, she gets ALL FUCKING BITTER about my "bootie call" getting HER neighbors to yell at her about HER dog going off, she decides its not fair to ask my social life to bend around her dogs freakish behavior and for the second time in a WEEK she is saying she will just move.
20 minutes of SHIT TALKING between us ended with "you're right, its not fair to ask that I change my life for your dog, what I'm saying is that the neighbors and your dog do NOT have to act like this all the time... they didn't give you shit when Brut howled at me for FIFTEEN MINUTES three mornings in a row this week, and Brut was totally fine with the moving guy, my sister, and even Sexy until Brut heard you moving in your room... its been ONE WEEK, lets stop with the dramatics of moving and give it a shot. But you just said this is MY HOME TOO and then told me how to clean the floors, so if this really is YOUR HOME and I just live here, lets get that on the table."
Thats right, I ruled that conversation BULLSHIT and gave her 10 minutes in the penalty box. By the time I had to say "look, I've got someone waiting on me, but no, I'm not covering your rent for November first" and she was all "I think you are a great girl and Shorty is great and my dog is just a lot to deal with, so we'll see how it goes from here, but you REALLY..." I cut her off with "I heard you, and understand where you are coming from, but I refuse to believe you are unable to train your dog, so I'm gonna try for more than a week to live in a new place with him before I give up and look for a new place to live, and I'd appreciate if you do the same."

Yeah, so I wake up to the house to myself every morning, and this fuckass shit STILL happens to fuck up my day before I really get it started!!!! She had the nerve to throw in "this is still a better situation than the place you just left" and all I could think was "how DARE you you arrogant know it all assumptive bitch on her witch stick."

You know what?? Let her say it again... let her threaten it again. I work at a staffing agency, my sister HATES her life, we'll get her a great paying job and move her shit in and we can eat all greeen veggies together. Its not the best solution, but my sis is gonna need some SERIOUS R&R after her current place, I'll pay off my car and HAVE the extra money every month that I was GONNA pay another bill WAY down with but fuck, I'll be promoted in 3 months anyway and do BOTH and I can live HAPPILY because I won't have CONTROL FREAK fuckin roomies telling me all about my life and how its fucking with theirs.


I'm still not able to get ANY work done here, so I'll take this energy and throw a caniptionfit at the cell phone place and remind them that RANDOM fuckups on my phone when I change my BILLING status is getting a bit OBVIOUS, and if they could please just leave my programming alone when they change my due date it would be greatly appreciated.
Then I'll go find a cute toothbrush holder and a tampon cubby for my bathroom so I can function in there even while I'm getting my hair blown up by the howling beast who doesn't understand that I can be home and NOT paying attention to him.
Then maybe I'll NOT lock myself in my room and unpack but rather find something to do downstairs so she doesn't think I'm being a total bitch... I mean she had the broom out and I said "oh, I took all the rugs out yesterday to wash the floor BY HAND LIKE YOU DO, but got so distacted with the FILTH on the kitchen cupboards that I didn't get out of there for 2 HOURS, so up to here is clean but the rest still needs to be gone over." I guess I could have been nicer about it, but she told me she cleans ALL DAY EVERY SATURDAY and the place was just covered in dirt - except the floor, that was mighty clean.

I could just rant for EVER on this stuff, but I won't, I'll go bitch at someone in public for a bit.
The kicker is that I could plow through some serious work in this mood with the office quiet and in the back with the view of the fog rolling in... but I guess I'll just have to accept that this weekend is about me staking my spot in that house and spending a Sunday at work just isn't NATURAL and shouldn't be done. I'll note that for next weekend.

Friday, October 20, 2006

TGI MF Friday

For some reason, I am just OVER IT.
All of it.

Its Friday, I hear ya, and Thank Geebus Its Mother Fuckin Friday, and all I've done is BITCH all week, but I'm over the whole lot of this shit.

I walk in as some bitch is ringing the bell, sit down to log in, she is talking at me like I'm the retarded kid that somehow snuck onto the normal bus, and she has a resume 10 years old to offer.
Fuck you, where is my coffee, sit cho 1982 suit in that chair and wait for me to tell you what to do. No, I don't want to hear about your grandkids you retired for, I'm going to find someone who can get you a job so you can stop talking to me RIGHT THIS SECOND I MEAN NOW SHUT YOUR TRAP.

So my computer comes up and Boss has sent an email saying "I appreciate that your workload has tremendously increased and I am sensitive to that, but why isn't this fuckass project that pisses us both off every week not completely off the radar yet??"
I went to the back and let my WillBeAfterThePromotionBoss know that I understand that asking these questions is appropriate and even that she needed to ask it in email to be sure she didn't forget to ask... but when its a project she rips from me on a weekly basis, and I told her WEDNESDAY that she trumped my normal routine by sitting Bright Eyes at my desk to fill out paperwork for 2 hours and that she could ONCE AGAIN do this project clean up... well, to have the first thing in your inbox say "I'm trying to be nice, but why haven't you done your job this week?" isn't a way to get me liking my day. "FYI, for when you are my manager, give it maybe TEN MINUTES before you give me something like that". She laughed, then coughed hard, then looked at me and said she thinks she is getting sick. I haven't left my desk since, and the hand sanitizer is in my back pocket to spray on ANYTHING she may have touched in the HOUR before I got to it.

Oh, and I'm going to be changing my work schedule. I have too much shit to get done by noon and getting here at 9am isn't helping a damn thing. And I like having the house to myself when I wake up, but to have the last 15 minutes be filled with the jabberjaw of the roomie over the HOWL of her dog while I'm trying to not stab myself in the eye with my mascara wand... well, kinda kills the joy of the 20 minute super hot shower of bliss. If I tell the girls I'll be here at 8am, then I can leave at 5pm, or stay until 6pm and clock overtime without being here all night... or leave at 5pm!!!!!! That will give me at least 2 hours at home at night to have the place (read:KITCHEN) to myself before roomie comes home.
Liking it.
I figure it this way - I HATE waking up anyway, doesn't matter when I do it. Lets build a life that works instead of one where I am constantly pissy, angry, disgruntled, on edge, tired, draggen ass... or at least a life when I can be like that but have more evening hours to get over it.

Did I tell you I went to Costco for lunch yesterday??? Took the sister on a whirlwind tour and came out light $250. I have SO MUCH GOOD FOOD I had to have my sister take a BUNCH so it wouldn't go bad. And I got lots of vitamins. And some new running, thats right RUNNING, shoes with brand new cushy socks to go with them. Oh, and some cool hair products =)

So my plan for the weekend is to prep myself so that next week has absolutely no resemblance to this week. I'm going to come in and catch up on work, cook lots of healthy food and make my own frozen dinners, set my alarm so I'm out of the house before the Bark Breggade comes home, get to the fucking beach and enjoy the SIGHTS of it instead of just the SOUNDS thru my bedroom window, and maybe if Flo is done being a vindictive bitch by then I'll see how long it takes to get to the peir and back in my new shoes.
Oh, and Bright Eyes is talking sushi, so I'll fit that in somewhere.

Thursday, October 19, 2006

And... I'm Done

I think the hardest part of growing up might be the quickness with which the punches really get dealt.

Its not that I can't handle having a birthday - read: evaluating my life to see if its going somewhere I'm proud of.

Its not that moving is overwhelming in and of itself - though it ranks top 5 in any stress scale ever invented.

There is nothing terrible about taking care of and cleaning all of my things, even if there is a woman who feels like her lungs are made of sandpaper until I do it correctly.

The work load doubling the same week I am asked to run paperwork to fire two people isn't enough to drive my car off the cliff.

Knowing I wanted to fall in love and letting myself get started on it with a young bucking lad who tried to tell me he wasn't interested, then having him tell me how the sex was with the chick he could see himself being a couple with, doesn't have to have me questioning God's plan for learning lessons about ONLY going for people who need an ego boost and then cheat on me when they feel better about themselves. It could have just been "oh, well, ok then" instead of "I asked you specifically to do ANYTHING you wanted EXCEPT fuck another chick you fuckwad". But it wasn't.

Having to tell someone who has wrapped his head around me for a year that I'm just not interested in him, that I won't go to sushi with him, that there is no reason to make hotel reservations, it doesn't have to rip my heart out that I can't be interested in a guy who would love to love me.

Looking at my new life in my new place and deciding to avoid it by getting drunk on wine and fat with pizza instead of strolling the beach the night before Flo's Fury has me thinking of leaving work sick an hour after getting in doesn't have to be the dumbest mistake ever, and it doesn't have to mean that I am abandoning my struggle to lead a healthy life.

Being so wrapped up in my bad day only to find my sister had a similar conversation with her ACTUAL love of her life really isn't so bad, since I did find out anyway, and it was at the first shot she had to tell me... but somehow it stings that I didn't take a minute to talk about her before 11pm.

Knowing I will be promoted for New Years and that the whole office is so excited about it and being terrified to walk in the door this morning because I feel like a failure at what I'm doing now doesn't have to have me in tears in the hallway at 8:58am (or 12:35pm at lunch, or 6:05pm when I lock up, regularly).

And its not that the world is so bad when Flo is in town, but she sure does make walking from the car to the office building a challenge in controlling moans and crys of pain on the staircase and makes the slope of the walkway feel like a daunting test of the capacity of the knees NOT to shoot straight off my body in a firey burning blaze of seizing heated pain.

Its not that any of this is really all that bad - I mean pick a statement and tell me to get over my drama mama self and move on!!! - but when you throw it all together in two weeks time... it makes me say things like "I'm sorry I'm so perfect and good at what I do and that everyone has so much faith in me that I can do the work and get promoted and move my life to the other side of the county and set up shop all by myself and that I really am a person so armored that I could take a guy and tell him I don't want him romantic with anyone else and then get told he fucked someone else within the next 12 hours and have him think I would be cool enough with that to get him to say "the coolest part about us is that after all this fighting or talking or whatever we've just done, I know we'll hang out this weekend and it'll be chill and we can still have sex and its all good" and for him to be TOTALLY SHOCKED when I said "you will never touch me again"... I am SO FUCKING SORRY I am so good at convincing people that all I am is the most competent, most agreeable, most laid back, most available, most driven, most awsome parts of me... because really it is a struggle to get out of bed every morning!!!! I don't hit snooze because I'm lazy or tired, I hit snooze because it really is all too much for me to take and I have to find the moment of UNCONSCIOUS HABIT to get my feet to the floor."

I left my sister and my dog curled up in my bed, dripped Flo on my whitish tan carpet before I could remember where I packed the tampons, had the new dog howling at me the entire time I was putting on my war paint because he didn't want me to go to work, looked at my roomie who had been on the beach for the previous 2 hours with her perky hello and wide awake eyes, and forced myself NOT to pick up the phone and call in weak.

It's Thursday. Is there going to be another day of the week I add to my list of Fuck This Day For Fucking My Ass Without Lube???

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

I've got Nads

I've got Sexy's nads... in my pocket... ripped them off and put them there myself just last night.

I feel stronger with them. Like I can command attention, affection, respect, control with them.

He debilitated me Sunday with all this talk of bullshit maybe situations that really did give me a pain in my real physical heart to have to consider... but by last night I had decided this is no way to live and he really doens't know what he wants and since I DO know what I want, I will make my intentions clear.

I marched right up to that front desk - mind you it was after a 10.5 hour day of sitting in the same office chair followed by throwing money at the old roomie for utilities and whatever other bullshit she thought she was being raped out of and then a cardio class that really had me thinking about a nap before the ride home but instead Blondie came right up and told me to put my stuff back in a locker so I could do OUR Monday workout - I looked Sexy straight in the eye as he cowered behind "I don't know, its just, I don't know" and said "look, don't be a bitch listening to all your MARRIED brothers about how I MUST want to be married NEXT WEEK just because I'm older than you... they've never even MET me!!! Just take a look at what is REALLY in front of you - yeah, I like you, and its a damn good thing because no matter how good of a fuck you are I need to be able to have you around to fuck! So, PLEASE, can we stop the bullshit and just have some sex??!?!"

We fucked on the tanning bed for the 20 minutes before closing up the gym.

Monday, October 16, 2006

OK, Fuck Mondays Too

Move went GREAT.
Dog LOVES the new place.
Room is AWSOME.
New roomie is NEVER home when I am and leaves me gifts when she leaves.

So she's still allergic to my shit. Whatever, I'll keep my door closed until I wipe it with HER cleaner.

Beach air is AMAZING to sleep in, there is a new clarity of my mind even when the dog wakes me every 97 minutes to remind me we are in the new house.

And then Sexy goes and fucks my weekend. And then I'm on the phone with everyone I know talking about how Sexy fucked my weekend. Then the roomie tells me she literally can not breath in the house because I am there. Then I call back everyone I know and feel wretched (like puke a little WRETCHed) about this new info. Then I wonder just how much of the bottle was empty before I started drinking last night.

And then the bosses that weren't supposed to be in ALL DAY showed up, then left for their off site meetings, then came back because they were relocated to around the corner, then left again, then called THREE times during lunch... and Sexy was being super cute lurvey and interested and totally not copping to the bullshit conversation we had to have yesterday in the hour he could give me before jetting off to work... and the wondering if I will EVER get caught up with all the work that is piling on my desk while I have to email everyone under the SUN the same ol' work shit about 14 times each... and realizing that I can see outside is certainly helping the day pass as I've been in this chair or getting water or checking for ninja pee spots after reading/laughing hysterically at a few posts from my blogrollers and its been 7.5 hours and maybe I'll be needing to run to the FedEx box just to remember how to uncross my legs and stand up...

Last week Wednesday kicked my ass... I already hate Tuesdays and the fucked up shit they offer on a regular basis... now Mondays are starting with bullshit and then turning the fan on midday... fuck growing up, this shit sucks!

Thursday, October 12, 2006

It Can Only Get Better

Not such a bad day today.
Somehow the mood is just different.

The bosses boss is in my office today, conferences left and right, lunch for everyone on the company card, sister on her way to meet me and then go to my house and pack the rest of my shit for me.
Working, slowly but steadily, coworkers asking repeatedly what I'm crying about because I rubbed some makeup in my eye and the tearduct is still a little pissed about it.

It's almost over. I feel the urgency of today, the need to get things done, the need to let all the bullshit fall to the wayside. The levity in the air is palpable and just in time - the gravity of it all was crushing just 20 hours ago.

No sleep, only a super sweet long gripping holding hug from Sexy to keep my eyes bright, good food on the way, and the comfort of a sister to remind me that this is just another lovely sunny day to appreciate how NOT JACKED the world can be.

Spread the love...

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Oh My Shit

Alright, I didn't get to post about the super adorable Sexy and his pleading to spend time with me Monday night and how even though I'd been up for 19 hours I got out of bed and grabbed some work clothes and boogied on down to his place for some smooches and cuddles.
We were both draaagggggeeeeeeeeeennnnnnnnnnn ass in the morning, but with the witty banter and random sex jokes anyway. I have insecurities and he blows right past them... then I tell him about some other ones and he negates those too... so I'm on a bit of a high from my Sexy time (though I've had NO sleep in the last week that wasn't cut short or alcohol induced) as I bust through traffic and get to work EARLY. =)
Then the day begins.
Fucked after mother fucken fucked is how yesterday went.
Even when I went for a pressure release on Laurie's Shank Tuesday I ended up ON THE SHANKED list.
That is a bad fucking day.
Then I try to explain that "fuck, I want a little normalcy and try to get my fix on your blogroll but everyone has talked about DEATH OF A LOVED ONE in the last 2 weeks and FUCK if I don't want to think about my half packed room displaying the only thing on the shelf as my MOM IN A JAR" and she starts with "I got the shanks done last night for you ungrateful readers and DAYM give a bitch a minute" so I came back with "if you had them done, why were they not here for your faithful followers - if I were as loved as you are, I'd have to post ALL THE TIME and saving would be OUT OF THE QUESTION just because I know how it is to be ADDICTED, but since I am NOT loved like you I guess I'll just WORK instead of blog" and she smacked me back with some "I have to work too, you are LUCKY you got this post at lunch!"

Whatever, so my day didn't go well.
I decided to get excited about my moving and visit the new place. This didn't work AT ALL. It was cool until she got home, which is EXACTLY what I am living in now... T came back from her trip and with me in the living room proceeded to unpack everything I'd cleaned and put in the garage. I'm not exactly sure what her malfunction is, but to NOT pack and clean because SHE was unpacking all up in the space I needed, to pass out on the couch, to wake up and try to crawl into bed but get berrated with "um, why is my shit not left in the pile of toothpaste scum I call a bathroom sink?" and to get FUCKING OFFENDED to the point I shut my door on the dogs tail to get away from her indignations at my "I was cleaning the bathroom and my stuff and didn't want your stuff to get mixed in so I put it on your desk, why you found it in the closet?? maybe you should talk to your housesitter who didn't clean up after her kids bday party for a WEEK but thought cleaning your room would be nice." OK, so half an hour later I get up, do my night routine, then pack some more shit until my toes got cold, then read a book until I could forget the audacity she has to not see that I cleaned the whole bathroom while she was gone but to wonder why her mess wasn't left for her. This left me with ANOTHER night of getting to sleep after 1am. ONE IN THE MORNING ON THE WEEK I AM MOVING AND TAKING OVER SOMEONES JOB AND FIRING PEOPLE ALL DAY. fuckityfuckfack. yes, fack, its the way mom said it when she was trying to make it fun to me ASS RAPED by life.
Whatever, I sleep through my alarm, whatever, I wake up with 15 minutes to get out of the house and ALL my clothes are in the garage so as not to be sniffed by a cat, whatever, I can't find my slippers so I tramp downstairs in 2" heels, whatever, but to find that the wicker baskets and hampers of mine AND T's that I oil soaped and soaked and scrubbed were ALL OVER the garage WHERE THE CAT LIVES and my laundry has obviously been riffled through and the one hamper I've had in my closet for AT LEAST 4 months now has ONE shirt she gave me in the bottom of it... well,



alright, so I am screaming my head off in the garage, the dogs won't come near me, I look at all the RECLEANING I'm gonna do tonight because this scank fucken whore bitch couldn't come in the house and say "hey, why is all my stuff in bags over here?" to which I could reply "because when I cleaned it for you it was full of spider webs and I ran out of garbage bags to wrap my and your stuff seperate so I thought I'd keep it clean for you until I could finish packing" and she could say "no, I'm cool, I don't need my stuff kept clean, but thanks" and I could say "no problem, but I'll move the stuff because I need to keep the cat dander/dust/AIR off of this stuff before it goes to my new place"...
none of that, instead, me, rage filled, tears spewing across my face as I try apply my makeup in STOPPED TRAFFIC, late to work, angry, twitchy angry, so unbelieveably violated, and trying to hang onto the idea that she only has 2 days to go through all my stuff and see what else I was surely going to steal from her stacks of piled up leftovers from garage sales... and somehow the thought of the new place was no solice as the howl of the new pet echoed in my ears and her "its ok, lets go lay down, do you want a treat?" get trumped by the visual of her walking out of the house as I am in mid sentance of a story SHE ASKED ME TO TELL.

I call my friend Monty. I know he can answer his phone and will have some sage words to drain my heart of hurt. I am late to work, I am crying in the hallway, I get passed by someone getting off the elevator who walked into my office and rang the bell for service FIVE TIMES before I could wipe the tear from my eye and get in the door. 12 minutes late, this bitch is saying "I just need to visit with her" at a place she is trying to GET WORK - WHEN have YOU ever been hired for a job and not have to fill out any paperwork?? - then she isn't on the calendar, and neither are the 2 people testing, and I have a LIST of emails asking for bizzarre things like "I'm 200 miles away, can I have access to turn your phones on in the morning for you?" and "please fill out paperwork for loser #2 to be replaced" when 7 days ago she extended her leave for a month...

alright, I'm moving. I get that. This is just a trial. God would not give me a test I can't pass. This is just a moment in my life. But FUCK if I could get a minute to digest all this shit before more shit gets piled on it would be kinda nice.
oh, and I can't concentrate for SHIT on work.
only an hour before a deadline and all I want to do is go steal a truck and start moving.
Friday I have the day off, my sister is coming, the dog gets a bath and a shave, the truck is reserved, and I get to move into a whole new version of the same shitstorm of women not understanding that if you have to open your home to renters so you can keep living there then BACK THE FUCK OFF AND LET THEM LIVE THERE.

That is all. My heart hurts. My eyes are swollen. My jaw is clenched, lips pursed, giving me a headache... but if I open my mouth I am sure I will cry or scream or hurl explatives until I can't think of anymore.

I don't want to do this. I don't want to be filled with hate. I don't like it. At all.

Monday, October 09, 2006

Sexy is as Sexy Does

Yes, I saw Forest Gump this weekend. It STILL is the cutest character!!! They were promo-ing Castaway as "one of Tom Hanks' most memorable roles" and all I could think was "did you get your promo mixed up?? I'm watching THE Tom Hanks role and you are telling me to remember that he didn't say anything for 45 minutes???"

Anyway, the reason I'm loggin on is to get out this happy buzz before the natives give me shit. I started to go into the life and times of Miss Sassy on her bday weekend, but even I got bored (4 days of pretty steady drinking, 2 amusement parks, one write up by security, 342809729872 bouts of indignation by the current household, 6 dresser drawers emptied of kitty dandered stuffs and repacked with wet cloth wiped knick knacks, 2 movies watched, 1 nap taken, a lunch with my gym buddie to facilitate the necessary bday cake... and no sex to make me have to shave in the shower that suddenly won't drain).

So, I was a bit saddened that I spent the two days galavanting and G-forcing and getting scared pissless without a call from Sexy, but he knew I would be busy so it wasn't that bad. I got a call after work on Friday... he wanted to hear ALL ABOUT Knott's Scary Farm and wouldn't tell me about his coming weekend because he was too busy talking about me. Yeah, chicks HATE that stuff, right?? Especially when it trails off with "I'm glad you had so much fun, HEY, its your birthday already!! Happy Birthday - I have a present for you!"
Long story short, I am teased with this as he is already home when this statement pops out and he is doing his brother's wedding stuff the entirety of the weekend... I spend my time cleaning and packing and drinking and lazily lounging on the couch - nap, shower, clothe, repeat.
So I FINALLY get some Sexy contact last night - I tried to NOT have the midnight conversation by texting him "good nite =)" but that didn't work - he knew I was awake and texted me on his ride home... getting him available to call me at 10 to midnight. You KNOW I took the call, but it was just enough of a wake up to have me tossing and turning til 1am.
So I drag ass into work, smiling because I got in on time (to sit and wait for 15 minutes for the meeting to start - this is why I don't give a SHIT if I'm 4 minutes late), wondering if the text that he was busy after class or the conversation that he would call me when he got out would be the actuality of my afternoon. He calls right at 11:30 - three times before I realize its my purse on vibrate and not the computer fan trying to spin off its track... he meets me downstairs for lunch. We sit, he tells me of the wedding happenings, he is super cute with his oversized sweatshirt and bright eyes, then tells me I have to follow him to his car because he has my present with him. He gets sheepish, saying he couldn't wrap it, that I said I wanted it but it was a while ago... I'm just impressed that his Mental Note system works becuse these days I have to WRITE DOWN to put socks on with my shoes...
OK, let me preface with - he has been teasing me with a surprise for three weeks tomorrow. 3 weeks!!!! So when he said its something I said I wanted I'm thinking its the SUPER expensive suppliment from the gym - and this gets me HOPING he had the bottle 'accidentally' fall into his gym bag instead of blowing 3 days wages on me.
So we are at the car, he is fiddling around, pulls out a bag from a store I've never heard of. Its a small bag, dark pattern, I can't tell what it is - but its NOT a bottle of pills. I light up!!! I ask "what is it? what do I need? when did I say anything about it??" He lights up watching me, but immediately goes for the look down at the shuffling feet boyish charm gig.
Its a new wallet.
Mine is very cute and I got it at Disneyland and has served me well but its a button closer and I've ripped the vinyl around the button evenly away from the bulk of the card holder... Its snapped but flops open anyway, you follow??
OK, so WHEN I said I needed a new wallet, I don't know, but he went out shopping to get me a new one - even talked to the counter girl about how appropriate it was for my purse. She said no, he said "she'll like it, I'll take it" - and I did - and now he wears a giddy smile that comes with making me happy =) I said "thank you, I love it... you are good at this" to which he looked up and said "I know" with that smile and eye contact combo that sets anyone into a happy fit of love neurons.
Yeah, no freak out about what I said he was good at, but in my mind I'm thinking "you are PERFECT boyfriend/fuck buddy/friend/guy material all wrapped up in a kissable package".

And then... my boss comes out and says that while I was out getting my fix of Sexy with an early lunch she fired my receptionist.
Always a new form of buzz kill to deal with huh??? Can't be thrilled with life for TWO MINUTES.
I thought all the fuck overs happen on Tuesdays, I was totally unprepared for this.
I'm gonna go pee and see if some yoga stretches in the hallway will get my smile back.

Tuesday, October 03, 2006


Have I expressed how much I LOVE Mondays to you???
I guess I could check my old posts... or just tell you how fucking fantabulous yesterday was as a verification that I am not redonkulously fucked in the head.

So I needed good vibes for that place... yeah, the dogs got along smashingly, she and I hit it off, I slapped down all of her objections and wrote her an October rent check before I left!!!!
Seriously, I had the biggest shit eatin, super accomplished, light as a feather grin on my face yesterday!! I got to work on time for the Monday Morning Fuckass Meeting... the girls didn't even let us get in the conference room before they were asking "did you meet King Dong last night? What is that Sassy Strut you've got today? Thats not the usual been-with-Sexy smile... what happened? Did you find a place?" I said "YES I found a place!!!! You wanna see it?? Come to the window... you see the peir there?? I'm moving into a condo in the beachside neighborhood 2 exits this side of that... you can see the tops of the boats in the harbor two blocks up from my place... no, I'm not RIGHT ON the beach, but a block inland where there are full sized streets to park on... yes, my dog is totally welcome and has a backyard to hang out in and the back door is left open for her so I don't have to worry about her needing to pee midday while we are BOTH at work - yep, ONE ROOMIE... shes older, stable, doesn't bring parties (or own drunk ass) home late nights, and she takes her dog to the ocean for 2 hours every morning so the 1.5 bath issue means NOTHING since she'll be gone when I need to shower and I'll have the whole 1/2 bath for all my chick stuff to sprawl..."

Yes, I actually said all of that over their "congratulations" and "that was fast" and "a BEACH HOUSE? what are we PAYING YOU??" in one breath with an ear to ear grin and a little happy dance goin on on a MONDAY MORNING at an hour when I'm usually hitting snooze.

So, after a day of smiling for no apparent reason except for the beam of joyful light oozing from every pore of my BEING... I go to the gym like a good girl. I rock some serious moves in the dance class, apparently get a thumbs up from Blondie and spend the next hour chatting it up with him as he presses massive weights and I spot him and have him tell me all the different ways I could work out ON THE BEACH and get these muscle groups worn out =) I see Sexy at the front desk but he's obviously not in a good mood, so I continue standing 3 feet away and taking in as much Men's Health regurgitated info as I can until Blondie finally pics and exercise I can participate with (abs, lots and lots of abs, its the key to overall health ya'll, no joke, do some crunches NOW)... we end with Blondie tossing his towel in the bin and turning back with "so, when can you come in tomorrow? I'll meet you in class and show you what I was talking about then?? Great! ::high five:: I gotta go, but get here tomorrow and we can do it again."

Alright, so I've had a tremendously giddy day, get all sassy and funky with the new dance moves, then spend the next hour flirty with the cutie in the club... go get my shit from the lockers, stop in the tanning beds (they are broken so I don't have to pay for them - I LOVE knowing the staff!!!), and prepare for the "you can't hang out at the front desk anymore, we'll get in trouble" smile and walk away with Sexy. He sees me coming and says "hey, come over here for a second" as he leads me to the bistro table at the end of the lobby and proceeds to tell me about the family drama and his whole family dynamic and how each member of his 4 siblings and parents relate to each other and how he feels so much about what happened but doesn't know what to do about any of it... and somehow slipped in a little something about having free time Saturday (my bday) night in the midst of the wedding weekend from hell.

Yeah, I was pretty fuckin stoked!!!! After a wonderful head in the clouds blissful kinda productive day, I get to bond with my man in public???? I even got him to say "I really couldn't care less if you work out with Blondie, I was just saying all that shit last week because Assholeous Maximus thought it was funny".
::get my hand held, lock eyes, we both nod::
::breath the sigh of functional relationship relief::

However, after a brilliantly stellar day like that (oh, and Techie was all sucked up on me to... the last message of the day was "I know it sound like some passive excuses but I don't like writing all that much. I do enjoy talking to you though! yea yea fluff fluff whatever right? naw, seriously we have some fun on our not so secret venue as well as the phones, right?" - I'm a flirt and it keeps me NOT homicidal, so what of it?)... and being up at 6am and not getting to bed until 12:30am... well, I saw this picture and it pretty much describes my EVERY TUESDAY...
**ok, I don't see that Blogger put my pic in here, even though it says it did, we'll see what actually posts**

Off to lunch... my manager tells me that we have to fire my receptionist... she told me last week she wasn't gonna do it after teasing me with it for 6 weeks, today she tells me that the Thursday and Friday I am taking off this week might leave the front desk stranded because she isn't sure if she can wait until Friday afternoon to fire her...
alrighty, I'm off to lunch to measure my new room and put my feet in the sand for 2 seconds to contemplate the finer things in life before I come back to this seat and contemplate 10 hours of sitting RIGHT HERE in order to stay moderately up to snuff on the workload...

I LOVE MONDAYS - Tuesdays can suck my cornhole until my fiber cereal gives them a brown eye of their own.

Sunday, October 01, 2006

Movin On Up

This started as an email, and transformed to a post... if it seems to go astray, its because I've gone over these events about 19 times in my head in the last 24 hours, and even with a readover for editing purposes I am still ON MY SATURDAY and my brain has taken an early vacation.
Here we go...

I met the possibly new roomie girl for dinner, came home about 9pm, found T. getting ready to go out. She said "I left you a note - we have my friends kid's 10th bday party here tomorrow and we need the table in the backyard so if you could clear off those replanted plants so we could use it, yeah, that would be what we need."
Alright, I'm not taking well to this about 10 minutes later when she is telling me that the5 pots on the table can be moved less than 4 feet away, AND after I made repeated statements identical to "I told you last weekend that the FIRST TIME I'm home when the sun is out, its the first thing I'm doing... that means I was planning on it tomorrow morning anyway." I'll just skip over the part where she and I are the only ones in the house ALL WEEK and I've seen her watching TV in bed every night and we nod at each other and NEVER did it cross her mind to let me know that my normal Saturday when everyone is gone would be terrorized by her taking the day off to plan for a kids birthday party... so, we continue talking, and I end up telling her I wasn't at the gym but rather meeting a possible new roomie because come Nov. 1st I can't afford rent.
She says "why November?"
I say "because of the note you left me saying rent goes up Nov 1st"
She says "um, rent goes up for OCTOBER" and walks to her room to change.
Ohh Kay.
So I dump my purse and find my checkbook to write my rent check, tell her what I'm looking for when she comments on the pile of shit on my bed, I ask no less than 4 times "so I am writing a check for the new rent price?????" and she ignores me each time - responds to other conversation, not about rent.

Right, so just as I'm about to pee my pants (because I REFUSE to use the other bathroom because if I don't clean it, I don't use it, and if I use it, I clean it, because I am the BEST ROOMIE EVAH) she vacates the bathroom and whoosh she leaves for her party.
No "so, rent this month is $xxx, just to be clear" or "let me show you my copy of the one liner note where I ripped open your ass and ripped you a whole new version of indignation while shredding into your checking account"... just walked out.
I throw down the chones, place my ass carefully on the seat, lean forward for the parade of animals that have had her home for the last umpteen hours but need attention from ME, and notice that I am shaking from anger as I whiz for about 3 straight minutes (LOVE the new supliments I picked up, but I drink a LOT of water with them!)
I see that I am a bit wild eyed and feel my blood heating by the minute... the dogs don't look at ALL ready for bed, so I take My Georgeous Girl for a walk. Her big boy can suck it, he isn't trained enough to sit on cue. I'm looking for validation and end up leaving angry messages on everyone's voicemail cuz no one answered their phone -- like they had something to DO on a Friday night besides take my call -- I need more friends!!
Right, so the dog is pooped and I am staring down a liquor cabinet, still livid and twitchy. I look down at the gut I'm trying to get rid of (I just had a piece of chocolate creme pie for dinner tonight, but whatever) and thought of ALL the other more calming less caloric ways to calm down... hot shower, here I come.
I ended up getting vocal enough to have the dogs barking at me through the curtain... so the heat from the shower ESCALATED my internal rage inferno?? My vocal chords hurt, I realize I'm pacing in the shower, and somehow I think I've washed my hair twice... alright, that didn't work, whats next??
I dress myself, get the tunes, and head out for an 11pm walk about the neighborhood - but my shoes are for shit and when I get to walking with any speed (or threaten to burst into a run for the sheer energy expenditure) the heels slide down my foot and keep me at a pretty mellow pace. okokokok whew ggrrrrrrr whatever, its not that bad, just consider options - you've told her you're leaving, you've been looking at places for a few weeks, you have until Nov weather they gouge you or not, and just because you threw out the one sentence letter telling of your new rent rate and her computer has a BLANK FILE saved from the same day you got the letter (she leaves her computer on and tells me to use it whenever, I'm not breaking into anything, just using a different file than usual ;) ) (oh, and NOT on the first, giving me 30 days notice like they need from me that I'm leaving, btw)... just breathe and walk sista, you will figure this out.

Alright, so a bit of text messaging with Sexy on my adventure, I didn't tell him WHY I decided to walk the streets instead of swill the tequila bottle, I just invited him for shots and nakedness later, he didn't reply after work, I sent "sleep well =)" and went to bed, miffed at just about everything in my world.

Did you catch that - NO DRINKING!!!!! Sometimes I don't care, but for some reason I knew the sauce wouldn't fix anything and the emotional backlash wouldn't be worth it. Plus, I was walking for an hour on a night when I DIDN'T go stalk Sexy at work, so that's good news =)

Moving on... so I didn't give her a check at all... its going to go with the letter I have to write: "I'm giving notice, I'll be moving in the month of October, with the way you bragged that Squeeky has to pay Oct. rent and has until the 20th to get her stuff out because she 'gave notice' on Sept. 20th, I understand I'll be paying for the entire month of October no matter when I leave... however there seems to be a misunderstanding with the rent price for this month, please understand my position and take any additional rent from my deposit you back stabbing underhanded lying sacks of control freak two faced duchemongers." Or how ever it comes out.

So this morning I wake up with the dogs - 7:30, the EXACT minute I TRY to get up during the week but never do (and I have to drag them from bed at 8:30 to pee before I leave, but only on weekdays, damn selfish pups), crawl back into bed, and finally give into getting up when T. is yelling into her cell phone as the house phone is ringing and her dog is barking his head off at the front window. I turn to my girl, who has suctioned herself to my leg, and she concedes that this is NO WAY TO START A SATURDAY. With Squeeky moved out and TweedleDipshit house sitting and T. normally working, this was going to be a great morning... I decided to suck it up, do my chore list that she left me, and get the fuck out and look for a new place to call home before the Brat Brigade shows up. I wait for her to get out of the bathroom (yeah, come to find out she had already baked a cake, but somehow the instant I'm finally roused by her ruckus, its time for her to wash her face and put on some makeup), put some clothes on (nothing like sleeping naked when the air is crisp over the still summer thin blanket, am I right?!!), brush my teeth, wash my face, and go downstairs for a snack and to move 5 pots 4 feet.

She is moving the pots. Yeah, in the 5 minutes it took me to go from comatose to downstairs for HER, she is doing what she needed to write a note AND chew my ear about for 10 minutes last night. Apparently I went over the 12 hours to get it done rule and she just couldn't take it anymore. I made a PBJ sandwich, got some water, went upstairs for my vitamins, and 30 minutes later came back downstairs with my gym bag packed, face on, clothes (and options for weather pattern changes) coordinated, and a rawhide in my pups mouth as I walked past the birthday girl and her wad of balloons with a "looks good, happy birthday" as I got into my car and raced off.

The moral of this story??? Well, sometimes rational can win over emotions - last week Flo would have been all "take the drink! go get buffalo wings and beer and sob about it!!"; When the tough get going, my ass gets in the car and finds a new place to live; Sometimes having just you and your thoughts can lend some not-so-ordinary epiphanies... and an appointment for first thing tomorrow morning to see a place that is 7 freeway miles from work, one block to the OCEAN, and living with ONE roommate who DEMANDS you have a dog to live with her!!!!
I am VERY SUPER EXUBERANTLY ECSTATIC about maybe spending a birthday weekend moving!!!! Not that the Knotts SCARY Farm halloween extravaganza my sister says she'll go with me to doesn't sound like a DREAMY way to ring in another year... but waking up in a house with an ocean breeze coming through my window doesn't sound all to awful either!!!
Nothing tells your "I'm getting older, lets see what this year has brought me" like taking a few PAID days off work to get the shit scared out of you by professional spooks before packing everything you own into the small Uhaul and treating your sister to drinks on the beach outside your new place huh???
Pray for me people, make your voodoo dolls of good luck and do a tribal dance... this place sounds IDEAL, I can afford it if my gas tank doesn't need a refill once a week, and could you throw in a little 'get Sassy laid' in there too because after Sexy LOVED all over me on Monday he kinda spazzed out about how all over him I suddenly got (or his friends just found out about since I haven't changed my behavior patterns from last week to this)... and I woke up this morning with my pussy calling for him. I'm not kidding ya'll, I'm MEDITATING on this shit tonight!! I know its nothing like a sick child or a dying cat or being evicted, but I've been trying HARD to get my life to go somewhere and I am ALREADY TIRED of figuring out where the next step will be, so I'll think happy thoughts for WHATEVER you ask for EVERY DAY THIS MONTH for YOU if you just wiggle your nose and make this one karmically happen!!!
Just think, I'll just keep asking until something falls into place, so you might as well muster your heartthoughts and cash in on my offer now... my first born is already spoken for so I'm not gonna offer much else.

Again, LOVING the new suppliments (think RockStar, but with no caffiene, no calories, and 3 times a day), but I'm not really used to having energy ALL day... its nearing 10pm and I'm wondering whats for dinner... gonna have to work out a schedule for this shit.
Peace, Love, and Sober for a day...