Tuesday, August 29, 2006

mini post

yep. its a shorty.
I kinda thought maybe I could tell all about my rocken party weekend in Reno with the cousin and her adorable family and the cute twin girls and the totally soothing home cooked meals and the kitten with the resperatory infection that I thought I caught because he was sleeping on my chest while I watched a movie but then realized I was in a desert and it was just my sinuses reacting and NOT an alergy to the other totally loveball cat who decided the crook of my neck or arm or leg was The.Perfect.Spot to sleep the night away. As I was in the shower after the gym I was thinking of how to organize my thoughts on plane delays, checking my bags so my lipgloss didn't get ripped off, how MOT was TOTALLY right about my Needing to read 'Citizen Girl' by Emma McLaughlin and Nicola Kraus and how I started it thinking it was a fun way to distract myself from the nothingness of the airport terminal as I fought to keep my legs curled in my seat as many many many many many angry cotravelers took the places next to mine before giving up and going to the bar. I wondered if there were any way to casually slip in that my dad is a total ass for leaving me a message that had me seriously considering leaving the boarding line to change flights to get to him and it turns out his parents didn't die and my sister (who was visiting his town) was fine but his fancy schmancy motorcycle got beat up when he slid out in a turn and broke his arm (the last time he slid out in a turn on his bike he was in the hospital for 3 weeks and everyone he knew sold their bikes in support).

Yeah. I wanted to update on how my workplace offered me the promotion but realized that our office is in a delicate place and maybe I'm so fuckin awsome at doing what I do that I shouldn't abandon that post right this very month. Speak on the roomie sitch, which isn't so much better since I blew up, but equally silent in the ranks. Maybe mention how I hopped on the scale before my trip and saw that, after being within .5 pounds of the EXACT SAME POUND for the last, uh, FIVE YEARS, I was down 3.2 pounds before my workout on Wednesday.

Which brings me to the point of why all this wonderful information on my life is jammed together like verbal diarhea. I told Mr. Sexy (I keep calling him that, its the guy I picked up at the gym if your just tuning in) he was good for me and I'm keeping him around - he asked "wow, thats great! is it from me bonin you?" Well, hes young and nervous, and it was really cute how he just blurted it out, and even on the phone he got me blushing, so thats something.
Yeah, so its fucking late and I got 5 interupted hours of sleep before being at work for 9.5 hours before I went to the gym for 2 hours and then thought I might pass out but instead got in the shower and now its like 2.5 hours later and Sexy is getting off work and I'm all shaved and lotioned and smelling good and been listening to mellow music while my sister caught me up on her trip (she got in tonight and decided that "call me when you get there please" meant "call when you get back to So Cal" - lots of drinking and puking and apparently it was all good; no real news as to if shes moving, the b/f says "if its fate for us to be together, 2 months or 2 years makes no difference, it will happen." So we'll see where That saga leads).

So basically, I got so wrapped up in thinking I could maybe stay up late enough to get laid that he's now around the corner and I'm frantically trying to shove my luggage in the closet before I knock my head on it as we realize his "Reno will only be there for a few days, I'll be here when you get back =)" statement.

And the confirmation call just came in. T minus 2 minutes - bye!!

Monday, August 21, 2006

Fuck Blogger, formerly 60 Second Update

I had a post.
It was marvelous.
It was concise.
Well, it was trying to be.
I had this idea that I could fit this momentous week into however many words I could read back in 60 seconds.
Saving you all from going blind reading it all.
Its been a B I G fucking week ya'll! I mean every facet of my life has had some kind of great development!!! I'm in control, I'm on top of it, I'm riding the wave of good fortune, I'm here to tell the tale...
and Blogger ate it.

In my new downtrodden mood, the one that comes from hitting save every 3 seconds and having to log back into the post, I'll be talking decidedly slower. Perhaps this is what a 60 second speech SHOULD look like anyway... fuckin blogger.
Love the blog, keeps me from writers cramp or sore shoulders from keeping a bedside journal, and I LOVE you guys for caring and checking in, but I had some really good stuff in there and in the EDIT process it locks up and eats it??? wwwhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaa ::tear::

Alright. The Biggest Week Of The Year - on the positive list that is, the shitty stuff has its own Biggest Week...

Monday: on time for the fuckass 7:30am Monday Morning Meeting. Full of all kinds of crack-in-a-can stimulants, Mr. Techie personal question emails (never before has he started a conversation, or with 'how you doin today?', especially before lunch = he was thinking of me first thing Monday morning!!!!), productivity, and good vibes that carried me through 1.5 hrs of cardio at the gym and enough ramped up Sassy to have to have red wine to think of sitting down to TV myself to sleep.
Tuesday: I always think I feel good on Mondays partly because I wake up with the sun... try this, snooze instead. Get downstairs to find a note from a DSGirl that is mean and uneccessary and shouldn't have been directed at me anyway, from the catch phrase quoted. Kindly reply with "thank you for choosing to spend your time judging and accusing me" after a morning of thinking I'll blow an eyeball out of my head from fury alone. Have another day at the office, kinda productive, drama with the girls I heard of later in the day when it finally cleared, quicky at the gym before coming home to find the house is MINE ALL MINE. Do my home stuff while singing and dancing and making noise while I cum and all the stuff I do when there is NO ONE HOME. After the 18 hour day on 4.5 hours of sleep that was Monday, I'm crashed by 10pm. Wake up at 11:30pm to the DSGirls drunk ass clog draggen slut dress wearen door slammen screamin about the note topic fucken (this was all better last time, I can't dredge up the anger again, I'm spent) bitches from the overpriced club. I am flying down the stairs completely possessed by the same demon that possessed my mother every time the dog would dash out the door across the street and she saw a car coming... the octive was 4 lower than her speaking voice, the volume at least 4 notches above what her 5 foot nothin frame should be able to produce... POSSESSED. After 45 minutes, I had Squeeky in fear of physical assault in her room, and TweedleDumbass crying, hugging me, apologizing, and offering me part of her quesedilla. Yeah, I pretty much kicked ass. AND I didn't even loose my voice. I thanked my demon, told him to go get some from my guardian angel, who ensured I didn't fall flat on my sleepy face coming down those stairs like that.
Wednesday: Tired, feeling my vocal chords screaming for hot tea, but 10 pounds lighter. Not that I suggest threatening ASSAULT on your housemates, but after 11 months of keeping my mouth shut, it was a relief. Get to work, continue with the tea instead of coffee, try to keep my head straight. Wonder why Mr. Techie is quiet all of a sudden. Try to get work done, IM my cousin who I am visiting at the end of THIS week instead. At 6:00:00pm, I turn the phones off, lock the doors, grab the purse, I'm ready to go at 6:00:14pm. Long story short, I am in the parking garage at 7:25pm texting Mr. Techie's email address "I've been asked to think about taking a promotion. Any comment to make me NOT pee my pants over this?" I've been with the company 5.5 months people. I've started at the bottom, got promoted to my managers position, and was asked to seriously consider the idea of jumping ladders to the next rung. To be seriously talked about at a later time, but its on the table and I'm still getting a nervous heart rate about it.
OK, so I miss the 7pm cardio class, but figure the 8pm yoga will get me out of my head for a bit and I can get a grip on all this after the meditation. Well, sick yogi = new teacher = different kind of yoga = I can't even keep my eyes closed at the end of the class to meditate because my body is still COLD after an hour and a half of her version of power yoga. So I'm in the locker room chatting with a friend about how I needed this workout to help me work this nervous energy out of me, she spends time telling me about how I can do this and its a step up and they obviously have faith that this would be a good job for me and who cares if I want the job I have to be solid take the promotion anyway... by the time I leave, I'm feeling confident, assured, pumped up, and just a little bummed that I didn't have any socks in my gym bag to do a cardio set before going home.
Instead, I spend an hour chatting it up with the cuter that cute newbie at the front counter who catches my eye every day and is sure to get nervous enough looking back at me to drop my keys while checking me in. Instead of rushing for the door, I stop at the desk for the obligitory "have a nice night" they all give when someone leaves. He gets my number and a "I assure you, I am just as ready to do all the things you have rushing through your mind right now, but I have to take some time to think on this work thing. Call me Friday when you get off, we'll play then."

Thursday: I get approached first thing with "I don't care if its PC or inappropriate or jumping the gun... WHAT DID YOU DECIDE!!!" Work went well, I got out of the office on time, got to the gym and found him behind the counter. I said "I thought you didn't work tonight" to which he replied "I took someone's shift, I get off at 8pm, we should hang out."
Skip ahead through my workout, chat withanother gym buddie/confidant/moral compass about the job, and the Sassy at her best telling the flirt who won't go too far that I picked up the new hottie at the front desk and we have a dinner date and THAT is why I'm not in the class he used to teach that I used to LOVE... two margaritas, a quesedilla, lots of giggles and fun later we christen his ride. Its always wanted to be called the Shaggen Wagon, and now it can. =)
And we didn't stop there... oh no, when you have a 22 year olds vigor in a body that craves 3 hour workouts attached to a mind that needed to get 2 jobs to satisfy his need for getting ahead before starting classes at the local college and a mouth that says "this was straight up amazing. that was fucken. Capitol F, Capitol K. FucKen. wow. but, I don't know, your really something... I want to, um, I guess treat you right. I want to feel you, softly, slowly, without the fucking, in a bed with pillows and softness for you to be comfortable..." Thats where I kissed him and let him follow me back to my place.
Four hours of nakedness with an almost total stranger, minus the HOT chemistry that had his eyes haunting my dreams before I could read his name tag and his insatiable desire to watch me smile, and a half hour of sex for breakfast and Friday was starting out pretty well. Even the tequilla wasn't killing me!! The sleepies were pretty intense come 3pm, but I think that has something to do with not having to leave my desk, let alone the office, for any kind of nourishment. The lack of movement alone would put anyone in a coma. Free food to boot?? "Where's my Pillow" was an email I sent out to a fellow desk jockey.
Yeah, well, I perked up by the end of the day - fresh air is amazing - and after 2 messages to my buddie who was supposed to go to Happy Hour with me after we worked out Mon-Thurs, I decided to continue the streak instead of holding down the couch with my drunk ass on ANOTHER Friday night. Cuz going to the gym is SO much cooler. Whatever, I was feeling pretty studly after chewing my bitchy self righteous inconsiderate roomies a new collective poopshoot, getting semi offered a promotion, getting my dad to realize he can't buy me and the acceptable response to a conversation is more like the post card I got that guilt money, worked my Sweet Sassy Mouth to the vet chick who somehow got the perscription for my dog's $12 pills to change from "no refills" to "when will you be needing these" so I don't have to drag the dog two towns over and parade her for a raping of $40 so the doc can say "she's great, give her the pills", AND I got more than just laid - I got fucked, pounded, jackhammered, kissed, caressed, fondled, bruised, rugburned, spanked, yanked, eaten, cuddled, petted, and taken in every wonderful way these Mr. Lamers can't fathom even after I write out the script the day before and feed them the lines mid performance.
And guess who was there??? Yeah, so after talking to my sister for an hour while on the treadmill to try to wiggle the jello off the toned hard body we all know is there, I find myself again at that counter giggling and flipping my hair and asking as politely as possible if our already planned fuckfest was still on, or if he was satisfied from last night. In the cutest flicker of his 3-toned shy eyes, he admitted he wasn't very good at this stuff. I almost passed out laughing, then assured him that he surely knows what he's doing, and if it was the planning part he was refering to, he could simply answer yes or no - will I be seeing you again tonight?
At 2:15am I turned the lights out, at 7am he was up and out for plans he had, and I went to pee so I could sleep in as long as I wanted to and found that Aunt Flo can't tease on a Thursday and then handle 6 hours of getting her house rocked. So this weekend has been lazy, drunken, chock full of ibuprofin and sunshine and naps and homemade food and having the house to myself and all the funky personality that can express itself when there is no one to hear you get babytalkTerret's with the animals.
Somehow at bedtime on Sunday, before the fuckass M.M.Meeting, I start feeling normal and alert and NOT SLEEPY so I get online and IM a friend and clear out some personal emails before work hours (novel concept, I know) and find that he (still working on the nicname, Mr. Lamer #x just isn't gonna work - Mr. Studly? Mr. Hard Body? Mountain Man? I'm not sure yet) has sent me a photo for no reason in particular. I'd like to figure out how to block out some features so I'm not posting a real photo, but I still haven't figured out how Avatar does her CBW dots... plus I should leave something for tomorrow, right??

OK, I admit it took me a little longer than 60 seconds to read that bitch back, but seriously, with all the shit that went down this week, there were SO many juicy details I left out its like jerky compared to the filet mignon I started with.
Did you catch all that? Mr. Techie thinks of my first thing Monday morning, the roomies know I'm a force to be reconed with and then hugged, the workplace sees so much potential in me they don't need an open seat to promote me to before they ask me to think about moving up, I was in the gym every weeknight, I solidified family relationships, I snagged a hottie for my new toy, AND I got the weekend to myself to absorb it all. Plus Aunt Flo didn't fuck up my life and won't fuck up the vacation I have coming up at the end of this week.

Mojo. Its a wonderful thing. =)

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

blink blink

I was just making sure I got all my comments before I scoured my blogroll in a hunger driven by missed CBW's and all the off the wall thoughts that somehow get smacked with a pornography restriction from the office (how many times can that come up before someone cuts off your Explorer?)... and got SHOCKED by the last message I left a few posts ago.
Dated July 17th.
I said 'my home internet wasn't working last night...'
Its August 8th for 11 more minutes and I JUST got the bitch working again.
Well the roomie did the work, but COME ON, right??? 3.5 weeks???

all I could do was blink about it.

and then recite my new mantra: pay off the car, then worry about the rest. pay off the car, then worry about the rest...
I got through 9 before I could do a set in one breath - I was seriously hyperventilating about this. I've been paying bills for a YEAR to her, and to hear her talk it COST HER $xxx dollars to get whatever fixed and pay this account and deposit that account and fee this and at-home tech service that...
the only thing I heard was "so we're back online" and I have had my ass wearing a dent in the end of my bed (my chair, back off) ever since. Its been, ah, 4.5 hours.
Between emails of links I couldn't get and dating sites emailing me profiles I might want to respond to and personal emails and the INSTANT MESSAGING!!!! I almost forgot to eat dinner, drink the lemonade (vodkinated, naturally) on my desk, OR do some daayyymmm laundry. The dogs gave up on me and passed out hours ago.

Fuck I talk alot!

What I meant to say was "I'm back online, I want to visit your blog but I can't keep my eyes open any longer, hope you are well, I'm trying to not blow an arterial valve about being offline for 3.5 weeks, ttys".

But I'm a flibertygibit and damnit, you like me. Send me some crazy links so I can find out what the internet has to offer - I have NO CLUE what stupid pet tricks we've found in the last month!

Monday, August 07, 2006

Deductive Reasoning

---This is a Monday post. I also, out of the graciousness of my racing mind, posted a Weekend post below. I had them written together in a word doc to babble in without accidentally closing blogger... but divied them up for your reading ability.
I am TRYING not to drag on so long... and STILL this is what you get!! ---

As I walked back into the building from lunch, this is what was going through my head:

**Thigh High black nylons with that sexy little line up the back.
*Pro: you feel super sexy knowing your cootch gets a breeze, everyone wonders how high that line goes, and the lacey trim on top is devine. Plus, they keep your feet from slipping around in the soles of your 3.5" heels.
*Con: if they don’t fit exactly right, they will roll down with every step you take and leave that lacy trim in a wad at your knee, just below your hemline.
*Bonus: perfect for nooners. The strappy shoes and nylons stay on, the panties come off, and the run out of the house is much quicker without these details to attend to.

**Boy Cut Panties, but with cute girl print, like black with red polka dots.
*Pro: essential to be sure that the day after shaving yourself with in an inch (literally one square inch) of bald you DO NOT spend the next week with razor burn Down.There. Also, if they fit right, they allow the perfect amount of curve of the bottom of the cheeks to pop out the bottom and THAT is uber-sexy in my V.S. readin' mind.
*Con: When sitting all day, they allow the perfect amount of curve of the belly to pop out the top and THAT is uber-unsexy feeling in my beer swillin skin.
*Bonus: they are just the thing for catching the effects of thinking of having a nooner all morning. No leakage onto the cute dress OR ::gasp in horror:: the chair underneath – also no stench of cootch to distract me as I sit here.

**Slip on dress that is Just That Flattering in Every Way.
*Pro: These additions to the wardrobe make getting dressed in the morning such a cinch. Available for packing into a supersized purse in case of overnighter on a work night, but can just as easily be figured out during a nooner. Please refrain from anything with a slip or dry clean only label, these tend to wrinkle and defeat the purpose.
*Con: No matter the pattern, cleavage show, flippy shoulder covering, or luscious flip at the knee, ANY underthings (and their malfunctions) are visible and there is NO distraction to be found. This will cause you to suck in your tummy all day and that is NOT good for ANYONE'S mood EVER.
*Bonus: the easy access to said underthings (read: rolling sexy nylons and pooch-creating panties) leaves you able to adjust anywhere – kitchen, elevator, hallway, in your chair, or cleaverly disguised as a strong scratch of an itch in a packed parking garage.

**The Monday Nooner.
*Pro: Much needed endorphin releaser for the 9.5+ hour day that is Monday. Must have location within 8 minutes of office for both parties. Must have hearty snack BEFORE lunch break. Must plan outfit accordingly.
*Con: The red lights on the way will drive you crazy, as well as the slow drive thru line and retarded drivers on the way back to the office. Also, if said location turns the AC off for the day because the owner usually isn't home, the sweat issue may become a negative factor, even with a fan during the act and while dressing. Also, when it is a postponed weekend fuckfest, the lack of time for variety leaves a sense of unsatisfaction no matter HOW great a time you had.
*Bonus: You got laid. Mid day. You got a reason to shave within an inch of your life, wear black nylons, think about lace on your inner thigh while wondering how wet boy cut panties can get before you'll be obvious, and everyone commenting on the flattering dress will have no idea that it was crumpled on a floor across town 45 minutes ago.

This is how my mind is working today. All pro/con. Its an after effect of the weekend's diametrically opposed fantabulousness followed by seething hatred for everything I see, hear, smell, touch, and do. The next post is a taste of the icing of this weekends cake-o-delight-and-despair.

Weekend Update

The checklist of awesomeness:
* Got the house to myself for the daytime hours for both days of the weekend.
* Got to tan, read, watch Tivo and movies, chow, try new beer flavors, be in skimpy clothes, make phone calls, nap, and masturbate at will during these alone hours for TWO DAYS.
*Cleaned my room (kinda), got online (finally – its been turned off for 3 weeks and the company site, as we know, won't let me on some of my faves that I hope to link if I have time), shaved, tweezed, masked, conditioned, moisturized, and was overall in my space as a woman.

The downsides:
*I was TOLD to clean my room by T because an appraiser was coming on Monday. I had a totally adolescent response of "I was GUNNA, but now that you TOLD ME TO, I don't WANNA!" and fumed my way through throwing everything in sight behind a closed closet door.
*I reminded of how ok it is to live in a house with 3 roomies by T as she came home Saturday. This was 4 hours, to the minute, before I couldn't take her and her lametard yelling at each other anymore (I gave it 10 minutes) and decided to get dressed and take a walk. At 9:30pm. I returned to find them gone but the ex-roomie drinking from the bottle I bought. T came back with food that she and lametard ordered and offered for me to share. This meant I got to hear the whole fight over again AND the ex-roomie's argue-fest with her beau. Just what I came home for, I assure you. ::snear::
*Talking on the phone in the backyard gives a sense of security that can let me talk freely… and somehow even outside there is a noise barrier from the front to backyards that will let someone drive up into the driveway and walk all the way up to the fence right in front of the chair I happened to be tanning on that day that lets the rant about how lametard has a point in razzing T on her behavior with him. To get up 30 minutes later to find lametard and T in the kitchen staring me down was NOT a happy ending to my lay in the sun.
*Another half naked event: I am on the phone to grandpa doing the good girl check-in and really enjoying myself when T comes out and says, after seeing I am on the phone, "can you vacuum when you clean your room? AND the stairs? My stuff is already off my floor." I said nothing, as I was on the phone. I'm sure she figured the red in my face was from the sun and not her.

How to resolve weekends like this:
Get calls that remind you that people care about you.
Have an outsider tell you that these people actually LOVE you, can't BREATHE without you, LONG to have you in their lives, and only rarely have the gumption to express it that way (did I about get it right Monty?)
Reach out and make contact – no matter who they are, they deserve a call back.
Remember that sometimes living with the 'owner' of the house means you have to suck it up and realize that a month of half assed cleaning will get noticed.
Prioritize life and decide that moving would eat your savings account just before a birthday weekend and THAT is unacceptable.
Find time to just sit and look at the blue sky, or talk to an old friend who was in a life threatening accident and will be on pain killers until he dies – it really puts into perspective how mild some frustrations can be.
Stay sober. I'm not usually an advocate of this, but I realized yesterday I just stayed too busy to pour a drink and by the end of the day the world wasn’t out to get me, it was just how it is around me.
Oh, and masturbate a lot. Keeps the body loose, the mind looser, and the simple grin on your face that makes ANY frustration bearable.

Friday, August 04, 2006

Friday, Brought To You By the Number 3

3 pitchers of margaritas split with my sister.
3 bars we passed before giving up and stoping at that bar.
3 times the manager stopped mid sentance and asked us if he got us loaded enough to think he was attractive.

3am - the last time I looked at the clock, watching Tivo, eating Del Taco, wondering what day it was.
3 windows cracked open and SO glad I was in the parking garage since it was RAINING when we were out at that unholy hour.

3 times I tried to get up and had to lay back down.
3 times I've been looking at The Throne, wondering if I'll be praying this morning.

3 laps around the 7-11 looking for stuff that would head off the impending headache.
3 items at check out to work with. (gatorade and water not working, rockstar in the fridge waiting for the Del Taco to finish settling before I give it a shot) (if you have ANY secrets to help me not yack at the front desk, keep my eyes open, stopping the vertigo while sitting in my chair, keep from running from all the noise in the office, or any other of the sure to come symptoms of FINALLY getting over this toxicity; I am pretty willing to try anything about now.)

3 times I had to look my boss in the face and say I was late because my sisters car needed a jump in the parking garage.

3pm - hoping to make it to 3pm before asking to go home and sleep this off.

3 options of what to do with my sister tonight... wondering if I'll be conscious for any of them!

TGIF ya'll... I was REALLY hoping yesterday was the end of the week. Apparently I am not satisfied WANTING Thursday to be Friday, I'm going to TREAT Thursday as Friday as well.
Hows your day turning out?