Suck

I know, there is no actual excuse to use my blog just to keep a blogroll handy.
I've had a birthday, a cross country trip, an actual vacation complete with calling out sick the day I was set to go back to the office, I've had guys give me their business cards to call them, I've lost touch with a handful of "friends", I've had a nervous breakdown and am currently avoiding finding local doctors to update my blog... I've put on 10 lbs since the last entry, had a meeting with my manager begin with "you don't seem happy here", confirmed that there is no where else to go and I got rocked royally hard on this deal that was supposed to further my career, I've made friends with the bartender too far for the rest of my coworkers to find on a lunchbreak, and the bodega clerks on my way home. I've commited to spend a rent's worth of money to go on another vacation and when the party I was to meet canceled on me due to a suicide in the family, I tried retail therapy, which was exciting while the card swiped but a short 2 hours later I was ready to go home and crawl into bed instead of go pick it up (I felt kinda better seeing my nwe furniture purchase this morning, all lined up where I usually put the trash to take out, but not OH NOW I'M BETTER better). My Netflix only come once a week even with the upgrade because my mail carrier still won't take them back for me, and when I bring them to work I forget them in my desk for 2 days, so I'm bored kinda all the time, to the point the farmer's market guy let me know the labels have his cell number on them and I can call him for recipes anytime - you'd think it was an invitation to chat, but no.

Anyway, I've been busy hating my existance and trying to cope in ways I know are detrimental to the overall progress of my life, but it's bugging me to see blogger remind me that I used to derive a sense of joy from posting and I haven't updated in over a month (to my credit I didn't sit at a computer but once for 2 full weeks of October, and even that one wouldn't let me on the site, but still). So, here's a post, to track the decline of all things satisfactory and add to the doldrom whining of the blog world. Maybe if I get laid I'll cheer up? Didn't work last week, but I'm told next time we can try something new...

Birthday Plans

Jersey boys have a certain easy switch that I hit just by being me.

Case in point, the neighbor man (could be my granddad) rang my door bell last night just to have someone to hang with on the front porch. He ordered us a pizza, we hung out for a good two hours, were joined by the guy who lives below my apartment who wouldn't take my "no thanks, I'm good" when he asked if I wanted a brew from the store - he came back with two and handed me one. So then he and I were chatting into the evening, I was glad he was getting tired, he'd been at the hospital for 2 days straight and was there the moment his dad passed away, but something tells me he didn't go to sleep even at midnight when we went to our respective houses.
So this morning I get my bell rung again, it's the older guy asking if I want to take him up on his offer to go to Atlantic City for the day. Knowing I really don't have any money to eat with, let alone play with, and that I had stuff to do for the day, I wasn't accepting last night, and put him off this morning... so his son was going to be doing the driving, I get my bell rung when he was on his way to make sure I didn't want to just get in the car when he came, was asked to wait out front with him til the car showed... so then I'm meeting the son, who I happened to know was going to be bringing his girl on the trip (not his wife, his girl) and as I'm still turning them down with every excuse in the book, they are both agreeing with me that it's not a good time for me to go as they talk about how well I'll eat and how easy it will be for me to get to work in the morning... this player of a son then hears me say "maybe some other time, when I can plan for it" for the 12th time and decides maybe in 2 weeks it'll be better... so I finally get them to leave, the son goes in for the hug when I shake his hand and then gives me the wink before he lets the handshake go, and apparently I'm going to Atlantic City the weekend before my birthday. =)

Trouble with any of it is, well, there's a lot of trouble there, but I decided if I turned down the trip for today I might as well do what I told them I had to do, so here I am at the office and it is literally 90 degrees in here - absolutely no way I can even breathe, let alone concentrate on work. Perhaps when the sun goes down it will chill out a bit, I hear the vents going, but they must be on fan instead of AC because, dayum. So much for that, I guess I'm off to the laundromat instead. I know I forgot my book, maybe the TV will be on?? The walk in the park was lovely though, so I guess 2 of the 3 items on today's To Do getting done isn't too bad, right?

Dude

Is not going well.

Full moon = no sleep = restless zombie like behavior = crankiness to all collections departments I have to wait on hold for an hour a day to talk to.

House has visitors. I'm ready to put pest control fees as a line item on my check for rent and deducting the difference. Receipts have been saved.

Job is not likable. Almost aggressively avoiding the work I don't want to do, maybe next week I'll point out I'm not doing it and remind them of all the reasons I didn't take the promotion offered 4 months ago - and why these job items belong to that position I turned down and not this one I accepted.

Commute is the pits. Almost livable now that the first day of school traffic has subsided a bit, but there are only 2 ways of my hill, I only drive one because it drops me right onto the street I work on and I refuse to circle the entire city just to get off my new brakes. Morning radio shows help, but they catch up on their commercial breaks by the time I'm in the car, so my 25 minutes has 2 sets of their standard "pay the bills" montage.

My postman has decided not to take my Netflix back for me. Twice in two weeks I've come home to find them still there. As this is my only form of fresh entertainment, I'm getting pretty impressed with how much fun I can have feeding the fish, dusting the electronics, and dancing like I'm on drugs I can't afford to CDs I haven't listened to in years.

Boys are decidedly lacking. You wouldn't know it by the texts, calls, emails, and cock-suck count for the month, however, take my word for it, if I had cable, I wouldn't bother. It's pure boredom keeping them in my phonebook, and half of them know it.

My haircut sucks. It's constantly in my face. I'm using the work headset as a headband if I don't have time to lock it back and spray it into a helmet.

I have to find flights that work with my timetable to go to CA in a month, I do not want to have to pay some chick at a customer service call center $20 to see the schedule in a usable way to do this. I also want to book miles to the meager account balance I started to build this time last year.

I prefer being naked lately, I'm having a very hard time keeping my clothes on much past 6:30pm Sometimes I start in the car. Sometimes I start at lunch. As I've successfully avoided doing laundry for an incredible amount of time now (I've lived in this apartment for nearly 2 full months and been to the laundromat once, I'm thinking well over a month ago), the wardrobe is proving that loosing 10lbs opens up quite a few options, and that underthings are often optional. As the weather is cooling, I'm finding I have to have clothes on at home, and this makes me cranky, as all my scrubbies and PJ's were big on me last year and I guess I've actually lost 20 lbs since then, tripping on my pants while carrying dinner to the table has become my practice of either a dance/yoga stretch twist move, or I'm planning to be part of a football team and this will be my diversionary tactic.

I've apparently decided being a bitch is alright. I don't offer a cheery hello to the masses at the office, I don't sugar coat my "I asked you that 2 days ago, you gave me the opposite answer, there is nothing I can do about it now" or the "there must be another way, you go find it, I'm busy right now" retorts that have become more common than "hello" and "thank you" in my vocabulary.

I live on farmers market food alone these days. I almost bought a family sized case of chicken cutlets and fish fillets last night just to avoid the grocery store that much longer, but didn't have $50 on me for it. I'm worried eggs and nuts won't satisfy my protein needs, but I'm willing to give it a few days of getting sandwiches and burgers from the local food joints and seeing if I can meet social and nutritional needs this way. To wit, I've heard of people meeting people at the grocery store, I don't see how that is possible if they don't see me enough to consistently run me over with with their cart, but at a restaurant, luncheonette, or farmers market I get noticed at least enough to ask what is up with the daily specials or the purple bell pepper, and this means I'm happy to drain my wallet of all it's cash to foster this experience.

My lunch break is over and I've been on hold with the same numbers every lunch and every dinner for the past 2 weeks, I'm learning why it's so easy for me to job jump without being unemployed. I'm going to go back to my desk and listen to the people behind me spew false information and backward processes and wonder how they are still employed.

Jersey, phase 3.0

Tomorrow is my last day in the Midtown office.
I'll be starting at the office I can almost see from my house after the holiday weekend.
The job I'm expecting when I get there has changed 3 times in the 3 weeks I've know about my going there.
This, matched with the phase of the moon and the status of my bank account and the low of being single/alone and how my belly is full of baby makin goods that just need to vacate ASAP, has brought me to tears in the last few hours.

It'll be fine. It always is. Knowing this somehow isn't consoling.
I kinda wanted roots. Finally. But this news, in hindsight, is the minute I quite unpacking.
Nothing in life is permanent, but being in a constant state of broke from moving to keep up with it is wearing on me after a few years of it.

Let's thank jebus that I had the foresight to get a few 6 packs, a bottle of wine, and a bottle of vodka the last time I was at the drink shop, it might just get me through the weekend - or, I think my paycheck clears tomorrow, and with all the money I put in to my car, I can go find another drink shop who won't know I drank the mountain of booze I got last paycheck ;-)

Big Big Big Weekend

Loving how I wake up at 6:20am every day no matter what and can't find enough reason to get out of bed that early, so therefore hang in bed until I'm running quite late for my day, whatever it might hold for me.
Saturday was no different - I'd taken off early Friday to get my car jumped and the battery replaced, only to find that once they walked to my car and jumped it they promtly locked up shop, forgoing the chance I could sit at a laundromat and go grocery shopping in the morning and replacing it with the delight that is waiting for 2 hours for them to drop a new battery in your car. Not to be deterred from having a great, though malnourished and stinky morning, I packed my gym bag and grabbed my water bottle and headed south for what I am thinking is my last time, to use up what I can of the paid sessions with Bam Bam before my gym membership cancellation is finalized.
An hour of workout with 45 minutes of chatting later, and I basically wait for Bam Bam to be distracted before asking if he'd mind some company on his lunch break (knowing he was meant to eat half an hour before) and when he hesitated (due to distraction) I said "great, lemme change, let's go, we are both running on fumes". He looked over and said "not that place next door we went last week, I know a better place out toward my house". He got a full body nudge, I was ready to accept defeat when he wasn't waiting by the front door, was deceptively calm when he emerged in a tank top, and we had a grand time sharing stories and french fries at the diner with crappy service very near his house.
It took him a few offerings, I could hear his heart beating from a solid 5 feet away, and that I only noticed when trying to hear something beyond his hurried breathing... I was not going to assume, he would have to directly invite me upstairs. This frustrated him a bit - apparently "alright, I'm going to take a shower" to the roomie in the living room we were standing in was meant to be enough - I stood at the bottom of the stairs until my "should I follow you" was met with a forceful "yes".
Strange how I'd thought of this happening for so many months, the girlfriend moving away, giving him a few weeks to get to that level of lonely and frustrated, haivng a few test runs of being outside the gym together... none of it lent to actually picturing the act. Kinda like how I knew I was meant for better, knew that would be at a job I enjoyed in a place of my own, but the details of either weren't important enough to include.
Of all that did happen, (which wasn't all that much, neither of us will be tallying another notch on the bedpost, but he walked out of the house in that very relieved strut men get when women have performed on their knees well) I remember the inception the most vividly. He was in the hallway between the bathroom and bedroom, I walked up behind him, thinking, well, not thinking anything really, maybe that I'd be directed to the bedroom while he freshened up? He turned around and took a step toward me and I reactively took a step backward, lost eye contact to watch his body coming at me, almost fearful in a way that nearly got me uttering "no" or "what are you doing". Instead, a kiss, that kind of kiss that you only get after you've know someone a while, the fruition of all that flirting, the crux of the release only when you remember to breathe and get to enjoy that it is actually happening, the excitement that it was worth all that wondering what it would be like, the joy that I wasn't there just to bow before him, that there was at least enough desire for me as a woman that he took this first chance we were together very alone to back me against the wall and suckle my bottom lip.
I hate him for it, the way he kept me there, the way he explored me, how he let me pull him close and then stayed there, his expertise in opening the door and backing me into the room, I didn't even open my eyes and he had me on my back on the bed, his one arm nearly lifting me entirely to lay me further up on the bed so he could lay against me. Oh for want of the shades to be closed, if it had been a bit darker we might have spent the entire afternoon in there... instead, I remembered how hesitant I was for this to ever happen, how I knew I'd miss him and this would only make it worse, his hand sliding up my skirt making me suddenly self conscious in a way I haven't felt in years - proof I care what he thinks, have heard his judgements, knowing I was already a goddess of the bedroom in his mind and that it would take only the slightest infraction to ruin that. I decided he'd earned some realization of the phrase he'd associated with me for many months now, I pushed him off of me, piled the sheets and pillows for him, took his pants with me as I slid to the ground, and tortured him in the way that is inherit in a first time together. I watched his eyes roll back with this or that method, I realized his inability to speak or even breathe if I were to maneuver in a certain way, thrilled that he'd let me kiss again, and that his hands were able to show me where he prefered my mouth be.
Only slightly awkward after, he let me sit with him while he de-wrinkled his shirt, was prompt with his promise to text me later, and the conversation last night was lighthearted.
This, however, is not the reason for the Big Big Big weekend.
And not that this was in any way directly related, except in the fact that he is my trainer and I hit a goal I'd set for my gym fees to be worth their auto withdrawl.
It started with a conversation in front of a US Atlas book about 9 years ago. I was serious with my boyfriend of about a year at the time, we were deciding on a road trip we could take. As the book is in alphabetical order, we were laughing at the idea of Alabama, Arkansas, driving from California to Connecticut... he flipped to Hawaii, and after the "remember that Disney futuristic idea of how we'd drive in a tunnel to islands or our cars would be hovercrafts for the occassion?" chat he got a bit serious about the idea. I don't remember a whole lot of conversations I had with that boy I was with for 3.5 years, but I distinctly remember looking him in the face and saying "when I weigh what you weigh, we can go to Hawaii." Even at that time it had been years since I'd been close to his poundage, his slender build kept so with the self loathing of the abused and the avoidance of family, and therefore any, dinner as often as possible. We'd been fattening me up with love and ice cream for months, winter rains helping the cause, and without high school forcing activity on me, I was begining to feel it.
Saturday marks the first time since I realized I felt heavy and uttered those words to him that I've hit that weight. I'll be honest, it was an afterthought, I was changing back into street clothes and saw the scale and thought "this'll be the last time I can measure on a real doctor's office style scale, and I've been using this one for the whole year, lets see if it's all in my head or if it will finally show on this damn thing". As I moved the little one further and further to the left, I realized the bar was still pegged, I slowed the push as I saw that number approaching, and when I passed it by 1/10th to get that bar to suspend in "this is you" confirmation, I felt my gut tighten and my eyes water and the grin and gasp combined to hurt my ears a bit.

So here I sit, my body happy, my mind feverishly replaying the feeling of his hand on my head, his kiss on my lip, the conversation at lunch, the conversation in front of that atlas book... I'm a little sad all over that I know I had to move across the country and slowly shed the people and their influence from my life to get my body to shed it's protective weight, I'm more than aware that my favorite friend chose the last session to invite me home and he won't be making special efforts for a repeat - he may not even let me put in the drive time to spend any kind of time together.

Enjoying my freedom at the office to sit in memory, realizing this is my last week here isn't helping relieve my sadness, the news has gotten around and my short timer's mentality is only worsened by everyone being so very nice to me all the time.
I'm dunking Oreo's in my coffee because I don't have any food here, I think it's time to go find an egg sandwich, malnourished is no way to be on the brink of heartbreak all over one's life.

Never a Dull Moment

I loved it all, went on vacation, came back to an enlightened sense of contentment... and now, just one week later, I'm staring down the last week of this version of bliss, as I've worked myself into being a great asset to the company and they asked me if I would take a promotion and I struggled with it for three laborious days but finally couldn't say no.

So, right, the 5 minute walk to the 22 minute train to the mile walk to the office is now changing to a 5 minute walk to the train station, 2 stops, then a walk across the building to my office.

No more forking over cash for the parking garage and agonizing about street parking where they sweep 4 times a week and I'd need to park on the right side or get booted, the company pays for a garage at the office, and with the train right there, I can use the car, bring it to work, leave it for 3 days, use it again...

A new team of people to sit with, a new kitchen to acclimate to, a new potty to pick my fave stall in.

Not that I haven't done it all before, but I'm just not ready to break up with Midtown, and I've made sure everyone knows it.

Notice the job itself doesn't play in this? I'm in denial. In fact, the new manager wants me to transfer, get to know the crew, let them see me and get to know me, then they won't hate me for getting the promotion. I don't know why, but when it comes down to it, I'll be doing the same job in a different office until the guy man's up and decides it's time to get an office manager named, then I'll get the title and $$ that I interviewed for.

I've had this job before. It gave me bipolar disorder and a drinking habit. I've told this to my current manager, who promptly spilled the beans about what may be happening in the next 4-8 months... that I got more excited about that than what I'll be doing in 2 weeks makes me sad for the office I'm going to in 2 weeks, because I'm already not wanting that job and half knowing I'll be asked to be part of the changes down the line... but, whatever, I'm being promoted, my car is taken care of, and the way my body likes to wake up at 7:30am, I'm ok with cutting my commute down to a solid 20 minutes.
That I am technically transfering is actually a load off, and honestly it wouldn't be the absolute worst if the current staff whines enough to get the promotion, as I really didn't enjoy my life when I had that job last time... love how I'm already making excuses??? yeah, me too!!

In other news, the house is more like a home since I nested all weekend. It now smells like all my cleaning products, I've loaded up the shelves I do have (committing them to their current location at least for now), and bought area rugs after furniture shopping all afternoon =) Also exciting, is my ability to make a mounded deliciously various salad for dinner every night, and to notice that the tag I ripped off my pants this morning is 2 full sizes (from 14 to 10, though I can't find an 11 to save my life these days) smaller than half my wardrobe... they are a stretchy material and we'll see how the afternoon bloat treats me, but yeah, I had to have a seat and take that in... no WONDER my skirt last week was spinning as I walked, it was WAY too big!
All in all, going very well over here. Let's hope it stays that way, because I can't afford cable quite yet, let alone a raging drinking habit ;)

A Quickie

I'm not buried under boxes.
I've not collapsed in exhaustion.
I didn't forgo grocery shopping to pay for my commute.

In fact, I've not felt this at home in years.
Honestly, since the house I shared with my mom.
And tonight, a week anniversary to be celebrated, I won't be sleeping in the place - I've had this weekend planned as an out of town vacation for months, and it just so happens that it is the capstone to the bliss that my world is coming together.
I love my job.
I love my commute to and from my job.
I love waking up.
I love coming home, and doing whatever I want whenever I want, my only worry being that if I fall in a reaction to spinning in the kitchen like a top, the neighbors will call for help and everyone will know I spend all my time in the place completely nude.
I really enjoyed making a salad on a clean counter, with my silverware, and putting it into a clean bowl - all without any effort beyond getting the goods out of the fridge.
I appreciated that I could lick the top off my Magic Brownies Ben and Jerry's pint until I couldn't reach the ice cream anymore, realizing I was sitting in the middle of the living room floor watching a movie with a spoon in one hand and the pint in the other - I put the spoon right back where it came from and was impressed at how much I could lick 'off the top'.

I'm doing really really really well, just not online at home is all - iPhone might be the fix to that, but the way the Jersey Boy downstairs is obviously smitten with me, I'm wondering how many reminders it'll take for him to scrounge up the password to his wireless network...
and now, to do the rest of the Friday Only reports, hit send on these emails I didn't want to send til the very end of the day, and get packing for my trip to see someone I knew before I moved to the east coast for the first time since I moved to the east coast. I'm preparing for a hungover weekend, starting about 9am tomorrow morning - details to come, if I can remember any.

HELP! I'm Insane!!!

I know what I have to do, but I'm just too exhausted of heart and mind to get excited or revolted or anything besides "I think logically this is a no brainer, but I can't find my logic..."

Let me preface by saying this all came after a great day missing all the traffic to get to work out with Bam Bam before an afternoon getting laid, then off to the mall to see if I could find some work pants that actually fit to find I'm in a totally different cut and one size smaller than whats in my closet, then a quick dinner and drive home... and this is where the HELP begins...

So I park on the street, so I see this woman hosing off in front of her house, do a hot lap around the block to let her finish, then park there. She said "you didn't have to do that!!" and off we went with the chatting. Long story shortened, she's lived on this block her whole life (been married 45 years, so however long that makes her a resident), hates it now, thinks I'm too nice and too pretty to live here, really hates the house I'm in, and her sister lives a block away from the next stop on the train and the tenant that moved in at the beginning of the month had to leave to take care of her sick mother in California.
So we made a date, we got in my car, she toured me the other neighborhood, I met the sister, who's lived in every apartment in that house since she moved off our block... it's on the first floor, the couple who lives upstairs (on top of the 14' ceilings throughout) are super nice and he just became a cop, the family lives in the rest of the place, the handyman is in the basement apartment under this one...
it's $100 more than I pay for the place I'm in now.

I KNOWWWWWWWW.

So, I think I'm moving again.

I have a trip planned to Boston on Aug 2nd, so I'm thinking, ah screw it, I've had a vodka drink, I'm thinking if the weather isn't blistering hot tomorrow, I'd move in tomorrow.
Because I HAVE TO TAKE THIS OPPORTUNITY, right??!!??!
I've got boxes of stuff I packed in California that were meant to be unpacked in a place of my own!!!
So what if this guy gets screwed? He moved the dresser I didn't want, and told him so 5 days before I moved in, to the landing outside my door today, 10 days after I moved in. The downstairs room he's renting?? got mopped and scrubbed. I had to go buy a plunger to get my toilet working when I moved in because someone took a monster dump that didn't flush and left it. I typed up a letter that we could get notarized 3 blocks away for $5 so I could park for $15 for the YEAR on the street, instead of the current $10/DAY, he said we'd work something out by Monday - I've seen nothing that says I live here yet, and it's getting late on a Sunday.

So I posted this at 3:30pm on Sunday, and here it is 3 hours later and I've accepted the place and am simultaniously looking at how close the Uhaul is, cable/internet companies, where Public Works is, the hours for the parking permit people, and shopping for a mattress because the AWSOME lady said I could move in ASAP and not pay rent til the 1st and she'll be happy to let in a mattress delivery guy for me while I'm at work.

This is life happening. Moving twice in a month? well, I've been tauting "when your dreams are big enough, the details don't matter!" to a friend for a few weeks, I guess I just forgot this was a dream for a few hours there... but now that I've got this whole house of family members thrilled I'm taking the apartment they've all lived in at some point in their lives, the only thing left to do is actually tell the current tool that I'm leaving, get that rent and deposit back, and move up the hill!

Crap, growing up sucks, but let's just see how life is different when I buy groceries and they are still there when I go for them 2 days later ;)
For now, the nice woman, with my mom's name btw, said I should get a good night's sleep and get ready for a great life in that apartment, so I think I'll turn on the Netflix, get a box for all the clothes I moved out of the dresser and can't hang in my tiny closet, see if I can actually get any of this shopping accomplished today or if I really am relegated to simply sitting in this cosmic fuck that is having awsomeness dropping in my lap. Who needs a gym anyway... just move every 2 weeks!!

The Breakthrough

I used to copy and paste emails from that I stole from people I see here, but this one was to a party who doesn't read blogs, but I still talk to like a blog buddy via email - this is what I sent last night:

I was coming back from Ikea and I saw the cityscape and the blimp over downtown and some fireworks going off and Lady Liberty and I was studying the calendar this morning trying to figure out if it was Aug 4th or Aug 11th that we went to the brewery in my old town and what you'd said about "did you ever think a year ago when you met me that you'd be living so close to the Statue of Liberty??" that tonight, for the first time, I smiled so big I cried about it =)
Not in a bad way, at all, don't worry, but, you know, like Meg Ryan does in all her movies, with the happy tears =)

No, I never thought that I'd live where a trip for dinner and a lamp would let me know what colors the Empire State Building was sporting evnet was going on on the way home.

Yes, I am very glad you got me here.
I don't know what I'm going to do with it yet, but I'm finally exicted to move within 7 miles of my Park Ave office =)

And, if you notice, 7 as my lucky number is in my address and my zip code, and my work zip code, and when you mentioned the 8's last year, I started seeing them around too, like in my address, and I told someone I was ready to move on to Jersey 2.0 and here I am in apt #2... grasping at straws really, but it's the little things that give hope and joy, so if I can't have you blink your pretty eyes and smile and turn your head in that way when you can't stand how proud you are of me, well then, I'll enjoy my address =)

-- the person I'm talking to is sad that I grew up enough to move away from their backyard, but humble enough to understand that my life is bigger than that backyard.
I'm still missing that aspect, but as it didn't do much for me, I'm thrilled to report that tonight I got to party on the company dime, and that I went to dinner at a steakhouse I would never have entered if it weren't for the request of THE top biller in my company... and the generosity of those who carry that kind of cash on them...

I've pushed aside the idea of stoping at the few bars I know of between where I've left my car and my house 4 blocks away... I'm having a very hard time paying to keep the car even though it will cost me the same as the bus fees to park every day, but my arguement is that I have no idea where I'll be in 6 months and if it's anything like last year, I'll be happy I have a car to run around it... plus, it smells like me, like, I'm tempted to walk the 4 blocks back right now at bed time just to sit in her and chill for a bit...

time for a LOT of water and bed, how was your Tuesday?

9am

I've made the move.

This is already a better place - room for something of mine to be in the living room, a roomie who heard me come home and knocked on my door to offer me a beer - then helped me find the box with the tampons in it when the occassion made it necessary to unpack at least one box before bed.

I'm wondering though, if this location is placed at this juncture of my life because I've gotten used to waking up in the middle of the night and being woken up before I naturally blink and stretch. Sure, beer and TV and a cranked AC mixed with chatting with a new buddy til 2am was my fault, but the thumping cars picking up their friends at the bar up the block (that I didn't notice at first glance, I was worried about the dive with the live music two doors down, which incidentally I haven't heard a peep from besides a friendly hello from the smokers out front) was unexpected. So, sleep came at 3am after a LONG Friday, and my Saturday was spent half in bed sleeping it off and then finding out how many scratches I can get on my legs passing various box tops and open drawers before I give up and set up the computer to watch a movie and chill out (took me 7 hours to give in and stop being a clutz). Even with a case of the sleepies come 10:30pm, I found myself texting and watching a movie that I own very intently, then another movie, then more texting, and wouldn't you know I was not asleep enough not to reply to 2:55am texts AGAIN??
Here's the kicker though - yesterday and today I got a text at 9am on the dot. Both from people I'd asked a question of at 9pm the night before.
So my rationalization is to say "grown folks think 9am is plenty late enough to be awake, it's more polite than waking to basketball or a smoke alarm because someone can't fry bacon, and they don't know you didn't go to sleep til 3am because you were talking to totally different people at that rediculous hour...", but the rest of me is wondering if my clumsiness yesterday was due to this interupted sleep, and today my spine is trying to pull in every muscle fiber it's already attached to for a hug or something because the more I stretch the tighter it gets... and I'm tempted to sleep to let my body recover but think perhaps Jersey 2.0 life just starts at 9am and I should go with that.
Here's hoping I get to work by 9am though, instead of waking at 9am, because that would totally defeat the purpose of royally pissing off the last roomie by leaving so quickly and bragging to everyone that I live so close to the office now.

Now that the coffee is in me, the shower is taken, the AC is on, the radio is annoying, I might take a drive to the mecca that is Ikea to pick up a closet extender and see if the 8' of closet rod I filled in the last place can really be condensed to fit in this 3' wardrobe, and maybe snag me some of that yummy candy cake and a few meatballs for lunch =) Maybe even a bathroom organizer so I can keep my extra TP and Qtips somewhere besides the panties drawer. And some meatballs to take home with that awsome tart jam. and maybe some more magazine holders becuse they hold more than magazines. or maybe those little silver cornered boxes to compliment the ones I've got to get me all matchy matchy with my crap. too bad I already have the over the toilet cabinet and the window sill is my headboard because I saw some cool stuff in those sections, but I do need a bathmat that fits...

Side note #1 - coffee and sugar make me happy. There is something to fat people always being happy, it's called "food". I've got a backup ice cream sandwich in the freezer from the corner mart in case of cranky emergency.
Side note #2 - chatty boys make me happy too. Girls too I guess, but they tend to forget to reply or say they'll call and get distracted with someone else. Guys disappear too, but answer back a few hours later like they went on pause or some shit, and it cracks me up and satisfies my social needs, and I just keep doin my thing and texting and smiling and working because I'm connected to someone instead of in my room alone again.

I guess I better stop avoiding and get something started... maybe unpack enough to find the bathing suit and lay out in this beautiful weather on my almost private deck =)

Who Needs a Holiday?

I'm not ready.

Being grown and alone sucks.

Moving sucks sweaty balls that won't cum.

Paying rent for two places at once is the unlubed dildo in the ass without warning.

I can't deal with 3 day weekends, I end up spending as much time as possible in bed. Looking around pretending I'm planning my course of action to move so I don't pay rent in 2 places longer than possible is possibly my favorite double think of the year.

Being an addictive depressive means doing whatever it takes to do what needs to get done, leaving me with grease and carbs and straight sugar with vodka shots and beer chasers being what got me out of bed for the first time since getting into it at 4am Saturday morning.

Girls have a strange way of being friends. Reminds me why I like guys, and even taken guys, so much better. I kinda don't like how girls in bars interact, and watching them gets very boring, and being looked over by the guys for these girls incites just enough jealousy and self-loathing to order another drink and be sure to stop at Dunkin Donuts of a small coffee and chocolate chunk cookie on the way home. (I've learned to always take a multi or B-complex after a night like this, and learned the hard way not to do it on an empty stomach and that caffeine at this hour will not keep you up but will keep you from a headache. I've got 4 milk crates of college notes I've not read since I wrote them; hangover tactics is the useful stuff I learned in college.)

I'm not excited about the new place. Neither is anyone I've met/known here. I don't motivate myself, they don't know this well enough to hide their disappointment I won't be at their beckoned call so I can do what's right for me. I've been killing myself with this commute and disjunctified schedule for them for weeks and gotten no support for that either. And no one is helping me move. I'm thinking of hiring people just so I don't have to do it alone.
(I know disjunctified isn't a word, but it says what I want it to.)

Being this alone sucks. Thinking you have enough of a friendship to get you by, then realizing you don't...

I'm going to get a shot and a fresh beer, anyone want one?

Jersey, 2.0

So, I'm moving.

I'm not getting a New York address, but, I do get a floor all to myself, including a bathroom, and so many windows I might have to BE HAPPY sometimes - 2 on the one wall, 2 on the other that look out over the deck that they hardly use because they bbq on the balcony on the 1st floor, and a skylight in the vaulted ceiling. I needs a closet, so that means SHOPPING, and moving to the 3rd floor doesn't sound terribly exciting, but, I can pick up the keys tonight and that means I can be at least partially moved by the Monday commute.
So, welcome to Jersey 2.0, I'll be seeing if the deck is facing the right way to let me see the fireworks at the Statue of Liberty before deciding where my 4th of July party will be =)

C, This One's For You

I've been asked how the house hunting is, or is not, as it were, going.

May have overdone that sentance. It's 11:39pm and I've been up since 5:55am, give me a break.

As I sit here with a pint of almost yummy ice cream in my hand, PJs on, face needing to be washed, I am letting today's flood of events just settle in and ruin my foundation.

I slept quite a bit this weekend, but not all that much last night, so I'm not sure if it's evening out or if I'm in my third wave, but somehow being stuck in traffic in my town for an HOUR this morning seems so long ago... being 45 minutes late to work because of this delay just a blip on the WTFareyougonnadoaboutitcry?getupandgettothatlastdayofthemonthstackalready! radar. Not getting the excel spreadsheet to say what I needed it to before lunch? meh. whatev.
Not getting it to say what I need it to before the end of the day?? there is no deadline on it, I'll do it with fresh eyes tomorrow. I was busy chatting up potential roomies.

That's RIGHT. Last day of the month, another Monthly Bus Pass purchase looming, and I finally get a response of "hey, let me know when you wanna come by, heres my number" instead of "thanks so much to you I so much look forward for us to be friends. I am at my job I take in London, and I have the only keys, I hope we can compromise. Just give me your full address and we can make you move very soon." Not one, but TWO places, within 2 miles of each other!!
So, I did what I had to do - put off as much work as possible to print maps and find train schedules that would get me home eventually. That didn't work out, so I took the bus to my car, then went to the grocery store for a sandwich, then got in the car and drove back up the same highway I just came down on to get within viewing distance of the city (MOT, I tried to get a pic, but I was driving down the freeway, you see the predicament). It worked out ok, I'm here and awake and surely wouldn't have been asleep before now anyway, at least I have a reason to be up this late tonight!

So, the first place might be a keeper, going to sleep on it. There are 2 rooms available, one is upstairs with 2 windows overlooking the the deck, a closet system has to be installed (where I'm not sure, might need 2) but its the vaulted sunroofed warmest room of the house with a private bath. 3 flights of stairs to get there, but I'm thinking the 4am stagger home of the roomie will be SO much less annoying without them walking past my bedroom door. On the other hand, the 2nd floor room is this blue color I've picked to have my room painted before, already has a closet AND a personal AC, and they said if a woman (hear that!?!?! these basically frat boys said WOMAN!!! I don't even call us that!!) that the two of them would share the full bathroom downstairs and give the woman the 2nd floor bath. It is a boys' place - black leather couches, they want to get rid of the massive oak dining room table, the 100 gallon fish tank is on it's way out, and they bbq more than cook on the stove these days (which is a BONUS if I might add) and they strung the dangly white Christmas lights around the living room instead of getting a lamp. They do have a completely packed rolling butler of booze bottles, a bar 2 doors down, grocery on the next block with the laundry place, and the train to the city is 4 blocks down. For the price, I'm excited - not to move up 3 flights of stairs, but that there are mattresses in the rooms so I can save that cost, a balcony to get some sunshine on, boys who party, and a local that means I can be in the city in 20 minutes (or get home from the city in 20 minutes!!).
The other one, well, the price is insanely cheap, but I think I spotted roaches, and I am having enough of a hard time getting my head around moving to the city without bugs in my house :(

All in all C, it's a tough road. I don't want to move, but I hate being here, but in my room with my things where it smells like me, it's comfortable. I'm torn between want and need, and the pick'ns are slim out there in the rental market (at least in the 36 emails I've sent out, only 2 replies weren't scams, so it feels bleak). I will suck it up and just know the next place will have some problems, so maybe having a third floor to myself (hoping I'm not getting some as the boys want the top deck) would be a great solution? Maybe a blue room will cure all? Maybe this is just the beginning of a stroke of GREAT RENTERS LUCK and I can find a place with laundry in the building by the end of the week?

In other news, Bam Bam and I chatted a bit as I was trying to get him to tell me he could get me from the train station as long as I could get back before xx pm... somewhere in there he tossed out "I'd be fine with picking you up that late, but I'd make you go down on me". His gf leaves sometime toward the beginning of August. When they broke up last time (they aren't breaking up, but she's moving 900 miles away) he was in a new chicks pants within a week. Maybe he'll be my motivation to use the gym membership I pay for??? He already has me walking like a $2 hooker who had to pay off $10K in debt over the weekend...
Totally unrelated but surprisingly tangential, the bottom of this pint (it was close to done when I started, I totally swear) has like this icy texture that is somehow MO BETTA than the whipped ice cream sitch that was going on for the rest of the pint. I don't even care that the chocolate swirl ran out, this ice part is magnifico!!
It's midnight and I'm eating ice cream and talking about the freshly 21 year old who tells me he's spending the evening with his gf but would be ok getting me from the train station between 8 and 11pm if I agree that there will be some foreplay involved... maybe it's time to cancel the gym anyway...

How are you doin, in your real world?

I Can't Keep Up

I simply can't do it.
There is too much vertigo on my particular roller coaster to even start to try to document it.
I used to, it used to keep me centered in a way.
I even started a post and couldn't finish the thought so saved it and now it's so obsolete I don't remember where I was going with it.

Every day is a lifetime worth of struggle.

I have great medical insurance, I've almost got the gumption to look into finding a doctor to tell me if this is just the side effects of moving/changing jobs/changing my inner circle of friends/ growing up, or if I should be able to get through a day without a headache, a low spot, a sex fantasy, and a sense of paralyzing fear all to go with my chipper Good Mornings and exceptional chit chat with whomever crosses my path.

I will say this. I was at the gym again tonight (yes, even on top of walking nearly a mile from the bus to work, and the same trip backwards after work, I'm going to the gym, training 2-3 times a week, and doing cardio whenever I remember to put my clothes in the car so I can stop in on the way home), and my Bam Bam was so cute, and we laughed, and the workout was hard, and I got to walk'n on the treadmill anyway (cuz 2 miles was what I used to do, whats another 1 or 2 more?)... and there is something about having those doctor's office scales everywhere that just makes it so easy to get on... boys and girls, let me tell you the shock and awe that came over me when it was a solid 3 lbs less than TUESDAY.
Nope, I didn't get a haircut since then.
Yep, I was in the same shoes, and a very similar outfit.
And oh yes, I drank plenty of water today, so it wasn't that I was dehydrated.

The point isn't the 3 lbs, its that something is changing. In all this strife and worry and internalized agony, something is working hard enough to effect change.
I even turned down brownies today.
Come on!!!! That IS my weakness!!! and the free pizza last week that I passed up??? SERIOUSLY, this is some major evolution happening!!

I'd try to tell you about some of it, but honestly, so much has happened in the last 3 hours that it would take a thesis paper to catch you up on all the super fun/cool/traumatic/enticing/rediculous/noteworthy stuff that's happened since Saturday, which is incidentally how far back my memory goes.

Time to try for a normal bed time...

This Week in Sassyland

Hello boys and girls,
so sorry to keep you waiting!! Sassy has been a busy busy girl, and with the job being actually time consuming, whell, computer time has been scarce!

The highlights then, because Sassy will be crashing soon and she hasn't even changed out of her work clothes... the sin of it... I mean, really...

Finding the commute not only tolerable, but somewhat like meditation. Staying awake after returning to the Jersey side is no longer a struggle, the shoe pile under the desk is very nearly every pair of heels owned, and even in the 95 degrees it was today, there is something very real about walking the blocks between work and the bus. Having devoured one entire book and half of its successor in the 3 weeks since this began, well, it's a bit invigorating to be honest ;) Sure, being a bookworm can be attributed to many of my social malfunctions as a kid, maybe even some I carry today, but, to notice my bench partner in today's travels was a young, single, well dressed gentleman on both traverses, and that the new man on the team I support and sit with was kind enough to ask if I wanted something from downstairs on the almost clock-work-like snack run (and they say girls need sugar to function! HA!) and wouldn't let me reach for my wallet and brought me back a chocolate scrumptiousness I wouldn't have allowed myself to indulge in otherwise... well, I was escorted out of the building by another staff member I hadn't met yet and was accompanied almost my entire walk by this so-obviously-enchanted fellow, I'd stopped to smell my own musk to be sure I wasn't sprinkled by a mystery fairy godmother to elicit the nicest bits of male attention!

In other news, the search for a new dwelling is underway. A few chains of chat regarding details have begun, almost a desire to be in those homes has been witnessed, and a bit of need to be cleaning up has certainly become habit. When something actually happens on this front, surely it will be noteworthy.

Other than that, the sunshine has been more than welcome, the skin tone is decidedly less akin to mayonnaise, and there was some sleep over the weekend that wasn't lullabied by the yammerings of the television.
Small accomplishments breed massive strokes to the ego, which creates a looming grin not one can deny!

In case you are wondering what the storyteller narration is about, I urge you to settle in to get used the writing style of Gregory Macguire, for after that lure, you will surely be as hooked as I have become on the tale of Elphaba before she was the Wicked Witch of the West. At my current point in the story, she is out of college and part of some job she won't tell anyone about, and I promise the strangeness of some details are eased in nicely, the clarity of scenery is shocking, and the development of characters has me forgetting the bus ride is 50 minutes or that I was motion sick most of the first 2 weeks!! Coincidentally, the strong desire for a beer upon crossing the threshold has all but disappeared as well...

When I can remember to document the incidentals of this ever widening grin, I surely will - the stack of leftover work from the person I took over for is nearly dispersed to it's properly allocated places throughout the office, ostensibly giving me time to do such things =)

Chicks are Retarded

As I sit here, in the bedroom I've turned into a studio apartment (seriously, I have a spot for food and drink), on my milk crate of a computer chair (which has to be slid under a table for me to get to my shoes in the morning), I wonder why my inbox is full of messages I've forwarded myself of possible roomies from Craigslist and I vehemently avoid my inbox by doing anything besides emailing these people.

What the ever love'n piss test is the matter with me?? It's just another move, I've literally had 10 addresses in just under 4 years, and this time I don't even have a mattress to haul!!! Half my stuff is already in boxes because I can't fit it in my studio and the 1000 sq feet of downstairs space must be covered in all things Ikea (or, if we refer to the last 5 weeks, whatever Roomie emptied out of his room to make room for his chick to move in, and whatever she moved in that doesn't fit in the half a closet he cleared out for her), I can't make dinner (putting a lean cuisine in the microwave) without intruding on their conversation and space, the AC happens to always be on when I have my screenless window open which gives me a parade of flying insects to go with my ever clogging sinuses... I don't get home til 7:45pm and that I must leave the house by 7:05 every morning means I rarely give a flying love handle about making it to they gym (I am walking 2 miles a day, but it's not walking 2 miles uphill like I do at the gym, followed by intermittent running for the next 2 miles, then crunches and 15 minutes of stretching - its more of a mad dash through crowds to race for a chair to plant myself in), have invested in the biggest case of beer that will fit in my fridge, and can barely muster the energy to fully change into PJs, let alone get my car legal, fix my phone bill, even renting a movie is beyond me.

So, what gives?? Am I finally getting worried about moving the way everyone else did for me every other time? Is my lust for life so devoid that I'm finally just happy to not have as many hours to kill at home? Hiding?? But from what? Or is my breakout, need for all things sweet AND salty, poor mental attitude all weekend, lack of spunk even in the face of fantastic sex, and these welts of acne I'm itching like exposed boils an indication that the worst of me is exhibited during the ovulation part of my month and next week I'll be back on top of my game??
Incidentally, last Wednesday I had a phenomenal day at the office, I've found a great sense of pride in being able to take any of the numerous options of walking from work to my mass transit that 4 lateral and 8 longitudinal blocks can offer without hesitation, enjoyed the offerings of Indian cuisine for lunch today and truly enjoyed my meal... I'm not devoid of good stuff here, I'm just avoiding anything having to do with my personal life.
help?!?

My Men

I'm obsessed with my men.
I find myself dreaming of awkward combinations of my men.
Every free moment I wish for creative ways to snare my men into my space.
I constantly want one or all of them next to me, on my phone, texting me, emailing me.

It's a sickness. I understand that. I'm avoiding getting a real man of my own, a boyfriend, because I know I'm not ready to keep myself with the opportunity that I could actually constantly be around my man.

Somehow, I am assured the healing will continue as this evolution of my life unfolds before me.
My new job is a sharp contrast from my last environment. Perhaps it is only in comparison that my heart soars with joyous delight, I can't know for sure, but it was absolutely the hardest part of my first day to not squeal with giddiness that my manager is a man, his manager is a man, if I go the other direction up the chain of command, I'm reporting to 6 men and two women, the managers of both departments I support being men. Even to hear the chatter in a different octave nearly brought a tear to my eye. OK, so I'd been up since 5am, forgot to eat 3 of my meals, and started my period midday, and every window I looked out was another view of NYC, but still.

We'll see how it goes, but with the overwhelming excitement over my first day still with me a full day later, I'm sure it will be a while before I bitch about the day job.
The house on the other hand...

New Jersey, 2.0

I got fired from my job.
I was offered 2 other positions in the area.
One was back to sales.
The other, an admin job.
It was important enough that my manager's boss had the talk with me.
He's cool. He says he's from Long Island, but he's a Jersey Boy for sure.
I asked him if I could think about it.
He brought in my manager who spilled about another admin opportunity that might have opened up.
The instant she said it, my heart stopped.
It didn't make sense, they just fired a bunch of admins from that office, how could they have an open spot???

I went to my gym, I had my workout for the first time in a week.
I went home and had tapioca pudding with cool whip on top while I watched Grey's Anatomy and painted my toe nails for the first time since I got here.
I tried calling everyone I could think of that might appreciate my situation, make me feel better, tell me to start freaking out or tell me this is what it is.
No one answered my calls, or even replied to a text.
By 11pm, I realized it was time to think about this, got online to check out the competitive market, thought about the 3 positions with the company I'd been offered, thought about all the places I'd wanted to move but didn't because of the commute, thought of how I was told I'd take on the work of 2 fired people 3 weeks ago so I could keep my job and how I had just gotten ok with my world the way it is and that I'd gotten fired. Again. By a Jersey Boy, in this company again.
I checked my bank accounts, to solidify options.
I decided everything would be ok, because the last time I was blindsided by being tossed by a Jersey Boy in this company, I had the same amount of money as I will after Thursday's paycheck. Even after I pay rent.
I looked at the calendar. Thursday also marks the 6 month anniversary of me pulling into Jersey to call it my new home.

When all said and done, I'm still not in actual belief of how it's all come down on me.
I guess I should be flattered that life thinks I'm ready for growth spurts every 6 months. I guess I won't be bitter that I wanted change so ferociously for so long and now I get it. I'll bite my tongue at the vile things I want to say about how this job was never what I moved out here to take and that I resent how my trying to work instead of gossip in this office has surely played a part in this. And I'll not begrudge my manager for so obviously making mine the disposable job, giving all the cross trained back up duties to the newest girl to the team, and for her not giving me any clue that this might happen after I looked her in the face 3 weeks ago and asked to be told directly if I needed to be looking for a new job.

When all is said and done, I don't have time for all that bullshit.
So, I got fired, and??? It's happened before, and it's been nothing but the very best thing for me because it lets me do what I need to in order to launch my life to the next step.
This job, it was a stepping stone to get me here. It was the easiest option I had at the time and I needed to get to the east coast.
My sister had called while I was wondering if I was centered or crazy for not panicing to be let go when every company is downsizing and the market is actually flushed with reasonable competition, she reminded me of the things I was excited to do when I got to the east coast that I hadn't even attempted to do since I got here.
And, after having a conversation with my manager Friday morning, and my new manager Friday afternoon, I was free to actually get excited about this change.

So, here we have Sassy in Jersey, 2.0, with commutes on public transportation, pouring over subway maps, and ensuring all metro passes are readily available, because friends,
I've got a new job right smack in the midst of New York City!!!!!!

Affirmed

I like Monday.
I like it pretty much every time it comes around.
That's about all I have to say on this subject right now.

Grooming

When you live the life of a single person who's friends are basically all via the internet or text message, the weekends become a test.
Sure, it's kinda nice to do whatever you want whenever you want, but how many hours of cleaning and masturbating can one person log before they need something to do??
This leads many weekends to be filled with menial tasks, made up deadlines, to do lists that mean nothing if they don't get done. Often, this list includes many of those solitary single behaviors like bleaching, tweezing, shaving, tanning, hydrating, exfoliating, primping and preening that I'd somehow fit into a life if I had one, but as it turns out, for years now I've been able to dedicate just about every other Saturday or Sunday or both to these ritualistic recognitions of my body as a temple and pouring hours of effort into changing it's appearance.

This morning was filled with a pile of boredom accompanied with a dose of apathy, but I did make an appointment to get my hair chopped off, so suddenly, with a time pressure, I've found 47 things to do besides just go. As I'm adding nutrients to the water I'm feeding my plants, I realize that I've accumulated quite a pile of the trimmings I've pulled from my little darlings all crammed in front of the windows. Between the ends that were munched by the cat, the leaves that fell on their own, the fronds at the bottom that have fallen dead as the tops reach ever higher, I thought for a second at how I've been trying to shed my dead weight, and how unsuccessful I've been so far. As I tugged on a dying branch not quite ready to be detached from the main bush, as I saw every bit of that root bundle dead with one tiny green sprout coming from the middle of it all, I saw how similar my growth is.
One of my favorites was a vining sprawling expanse in a beautiful cobalt blue pot that literally had to be wrapped around my entire backseat on the way out here. It didn't fare the trip well, and was down to 3 leaves on it's meager 2 stems by Christmas. It is nothing like it was, but I didn't give up on it - if it wanted to be 3 leaves instead of 300, so be it. Today I see 3 new unraveling leaves that weren't there last Sunday, it's up to 17 fully sprouted (though fairly small) bright green and facing the sunshine petals of life. As I look at the sad buds that prove where the greatness once came from this pot, I see how this evolution was needed to create this new and different but still wonderful version of this fantastically metaphorical centerpiece.

Lets hope this spring treats me as well as these little lovelies show me it can - I'm bored of hibernating, I'm ready to shed the dead weight, and if I find someone who can see past remnants of what I used to be appreciate my fresh and tender new growth for what it is and what it will become, I hope they are close enough to also take me to lunch after an afternoon of grooming.

Musings on a Sunday Afternoon

I had a whole rant here on how stupid it is to hate growing up and how lame I am for resorting to stupid crutches and useless mindfucks to get where I am now, and how I think I've broken my own heart in the midst of looking for who I am when I'm not trying to be what someone else needs.

Instead, however, I'll bypass the sobfest with a Ctl-A and a swat of Delete, and instead heed my own favorite quote "what you think about, you bring about" and sit for a minute with some contented thoughts.

I highly suggest, even if you aren't a chip eater, a splurge on Terra exotic vegetable chips. They are just other root veggies cooked like chips, today I'm enjoying the Mediterranean version crushed over my salad dressed with feta cheese and red wine and oil dressing, but the crunch and the flavor of each color being decidedly different, and with a more sophisticated flavor combination than cheddar and sour cream (garlic, oregano, and olive oil with a hint of lemon to be exact), well, I'm dressed in gym clothes but somehow think these flavors demand at least a taster of white wine to adequately complete the palat.

For quite some time now, I've chosen not to bother with things that I used to obsess over. I remember my mom laughing quite hard as she walked in to catch me singing to the radio and tidying my sock drawer (by color, occasion, freuency, and leaving room for the 3 pair currently in the wash, we don't want anything out of order...) - of late, my socks are matched but tossed into a bucket of sorts, panties catagorized into 2 buckets as well with "shows panty lines" and "doesn't show panty lines" as the only differentiation. I'm realizing now that perhaps I was on to something in my younger days, especially when it comes to making the bed. Even if I spend all day in bed, there is just something about having to pull back the covers and lay the pillow down that makes it Bedtime. If you aren't in this habit, I'd urge you to try it for a few days and report back if there is a marked difference in your ability to fall asleep and get restful sleep.

I've basically given up on moving out. This is spurred by the continued absence of the girlfriend, causing the roomie to be a bit more chatty, a bit less messy, and quiet in the evenings. I've certainly grown a tollerance to the BS of it all, but as a school teacher with plenty of duties and commitments after work, I find that his regular evening routine amounts to coming in between 9 and 10pm, grabbing a bowl of cereal, and retreating to his room. I'm a bit excited that he's decided his room needed a massive overhaul this weekend and the bed frame is in peices in the living room =) And that he's already had the AC going and has forgotten to ask for bill money in 3 months, well, with the price of gas, milk, eggs, bread, meat, veggies, and I'm sure soon air going up with no myth that it will ever come down, I'm finding a peace in my cheap rent and already-here-ness.

New habits are hard, right? But that doesn't mean they aren't worth while though. I'm thinking if I just keep at whatever I'm doing, whatever isn't my old comfort zone will eventually be part of my new comfort zone, and if I just keep at it, I'll get into a new groove. For better or for worse is yet to be determined, but I think wanting to spend the afternoon walking instead of drinking might be a step in at least a healthier direction, no?
Some things don't have to totally change though, like the bliss that is Ben and Jerry's ice cream. I can't seem to ever find my true favorite, chocolate brownie frozen yogurt, but the light phish food I picked up has added a particular kind of yumminess to my afternoon, even if I did have to leave most of the chunks of phish to swim for next time.

I'm running pretty low on energy to force a smile or happy thoughts these days, I'm a little impressed at myself for coming up with this meager list, but at least it's not another whinefest, right? ;)

Batter Up!

The hits just keep comin folks, get yur popcorn and soda pop and hunker in for a doozie of a show!!!

That's all I've got in me right now, but lets just say that I got my haircut Sunday, it's decidedly exactly what I asked her not to do, and I've found out that I can go back and ask for her next Sunday on her next shift and get it done the way I want for free. When I got here the week before Thanksgiving, it was darn near to my ass, the cut I really liked had it just past the shoulder, and I asked this chick to take it up 3 inches from there. The point is, this time next week, I won't be wearing my childhood security blanket down my back anymore; I'm changing, and it hurts, and people are noticing, and some are really verbal about how much they don't like me, and when it's on top of about every random thing coming from the easy daily contacts, it's just enough to get you to spastically clean.
That's right, I didn't reach for the bourbon or the beer and I didn't go out for brownies, I found enough carpet to vacuum, hung a picture, did laundry, and the shower is soaking in some goo I have to scrub off soon.
And ya know what?? I don't feel any better, but, I don't feel any worse, and maybe I'll stop sneezing when I come home, so there is today's silver lining.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm done with this game today, too many stray balls I didn't see coming have me more exhausted than the pop flies and fouls I actually got to swing at, so I'm going to take a long hot shower, use the yummy body butter before curling up in some fresh PJs with a cup of hot tea, and let this day ooze off of me before I attempt a good night's sleep. If you want to play with me, work this quizzical dilemma over a bit: if one decides to be single, to spend time alone to decide what they want/like/need from life/love/work/home but they find ways to constantly put themselves in situations that require dating skills (like, say, moving across the country and being nice to everyone they meet because, say, everyone has "gotta guy" who might put sugar in your gas tank for not saying Excuse Me when passing in the grocery isle or whatever), and those in the know often toss out "you should be in the service industry, you are great with people!" and "why aren't you in sales, you are a natural!" and "your job should be helping people somehow, someway, because you just brighten my day so effortlessly, you could be a life changer for those in need just by being you!!"... if all the attention is there, just from severely inappropriate sources, and one thrives on it as if it were oxygen itself... should one find a woman's campus to hibernate in until the wounds heal over and the spine grows in, or stop with the pussy footing around and get on some dating sites and plan on never having dinner alone again? Just a little 'what if' to work over amongst yourselves, I'll check in after I decide if sleeping pills should make it onto the shopping list.

Exhausted

Ok, uh, who was that chick on the last post?

Me?? Geez, how long ago was THAT?

Friday??

huh.

It's absolutely astounding what Flo will do to a woman.
Let's hope all this bs can be blamed on that bitch. I'll check back in a few days, let's see if that Friday perky happy about everything when there isn't even sunshine but it doesn't matter cuz she'll shit you a rainbow chick makes a trip back around.

I can say this - growing a spine hurts. Getting it kicked in while it's still fresh, by people who didn't know it wasn't there before and have no idea how crippling their little blows can be because they can't stop talking about themselves to see the crushing effect they have on the person standing right in front of them??? Well, I think that hurts worse. I'm told by those who know me that being a doormat isn't the best thing, but getting up from being a doormat ain't for the weak of heart. And, I am, weak of heart. So, there we have it.

ttys, let's find something to be happy about instead of thinking of getting in the car to go to work and never showing up and never getting back home and living somewhere in those middle states where no one will find me...

OK, ok, ok, ok, are you ready?

The whole event took less than 5 minutes, though I'm so excited about it I could write enough to have you reading it for longer than that, but as I'm too kind, I'm going to cut to the chase.

I had Little Trainer Boy take my measurements last night. We haven't done this since the first or second week of January. I was impressed at the first one, that my weight was on the higher side of my range, that my inches were what they were, that women's sizes are so deceiving when compared to actual measurements.
While he was super impressed at my first measurement, the neck, going down by half an inch (for which I had to razz him incessantly because he just went to his girlfriend's sorority formal and had to actually know his neck size for the shirt he had to wear, and I never even have a top button if I do wear a button up), I was more impressed that every other body part had also gone down by at least half an inch at the muscular parts (bicep, calf) and an inch to an inch and a half at the fatty bits.
RIGHT. So, even with the brownie platter and the intermittent gym attendance and irregular workouts with Little Trainer Boy and his death by hamstring curl, I'm seeing in plain blue ink that 11lbs can make a big difference.
So, with the office of girls committed to pulling out their Weight Watchers materials and adhering to those guidelines starting Monday, I'm ready to see what a more dedicated attitude can do for this fitness thing.
Lets face it, when you've got muscular legs, and you can see your bicep flex when you brush your hair in the morning, and the weather warms up, it's a lot easier to want to get rid of the Jello covered parts and get into some shorts and a tank top and see if Little Trainer Boy will actually jump on you like a bonobo monkey the way he says he does when he sees toned legs, because, damn, that would be worth the pain!!!
To add to the fun of the day, I have to admit I'm so thrilled to find out that while the company has a closed-toed-shoe policy, my manager understands that we have no contact with the public and therefore lets us get pretty casual with our business casual attire, and with the temps in the 70s for the 3rd day in a row, I am more than excited to find out that my 10 pair of open toed sandals will get to become part of my work wear wardrobe again!! Oh, with the slip on sandals and the skirts and the cap sleeved tops, the hair is getting cut again soon and the tan is starting to take, add to it a couple inches dropped without really trying and the motivation that breeds, and this Garden State is about to see a whole new side of this Cali Girl!!

Gotta Love It

Here I was, all ready to post that I was having a good day, that the AH-HAH was more like when you notice the fog has cleared than a lightning bolt, I'm feeling refreshed and pleasantly exhausted by the experience but on the whole very proud of myself, and in 20 minutes I'm a mess again.
Not a 10 car pileup like last week, not a garage fire like this week, just the kind that Merry Maids could take care of for $300, but still. What the hell does it take to get a little stability around here? And why is it that Alpha Dog gets in a shit mood and I'm the one cowering in a corner about it?? I leave the room and I don't respond to the curses to the sky and I don't feed into the monster, but honestly, is it that hard to keep your life in your own cube??
So, I'm sitting here in the muck she left, and it's compounded by my willingness to help her get something done for Boss ASAP, only to find when I come back from running all over the next door office for her that she is on the phone with every place that has her old credit card on file and yelling that Boss was making her nuts - then everything I did to help she had to go and redo, on speaker, so I could hear everyone I'd just talked to face-to-face saying exactly what they told me and I told her. One more email from Boss and she was so fed up she had to leave the office for a while.
Well, at least I know that clean sheets make the day start well. That's something. Maybe I'll get a chance to soak up some sunshine on a lunch break of my own, but with the rant about how all lunches must be taken by 2pm on the week I've been leaving at 3:30pm, well, I just can't wait for that melodrama to unfold!

Ballhair

I thought taking the day off would clear my head and make it all easier because of my new found peace... turns out, you need to stay firmly entrenched in your version of the BS or else it will eat you alive when you get back into it.
It's like quicksand, it's futile to fight, so you just sit and be quiet and let it suck you in.
Plus, I didn't get the cathartic WOW I was expecting. Still waiting, trying to let the thoughts pass through my head with barely a notice, hoping one will plant itself right in front of me and demand that this is the one to pay attention to, act on, build the next steps of my life with.
Until then... avoiding the cookie platter and enjoying whatever smiles I get, even if it is a one liner from a taken 20 year old...

Wholly Heart Attack Batman!

As a public service, I present to you a list of possible ways to perform routine checks of your adrenal system. These can be used to help you get over the 2nd day hangover from not getting any sleep mid week, perk up mid afternoon, as a way to help you quit caffeine cold turkey, or just to test your deodorant application today.
As the creator of this list, and at the tail end of it's tests myself, I'd recommend not attempting them all in the same day. I am setting goals for 30 years old, not quite there yet, have lived a healthy lifestyle with no illegal drug addictions or favorite barista at the coffee house even, and I fear I may need hospitalization before sun up tomorrow because of my extensive testing of this list. I do feel I need to offer my findings to you, in case you need to check your heart health.

-- Realize that if you have 2 alarms set, only the first one goes off, the second one blinks instead of beeps. Do so as you thank Daylight Savings Time for having the sun up when you need to be up, and that article you read saying you should drink more water as you waddle/hobble/race to the bathroom to start the shower and decide which morning steps can be done during the commute.
-- Do half your morning routine in the car while driving roads with stoplights, side streets, and school buses who stop for train tracks. For added appeal, be sure to ram something in your eye as you slam on the brakes. If not applicable, try to catch your drink as it catapults from your cup holder. If you can do both at the same slam-on-the-brakes stop of the block, you will get the added shot of go-go juice from the shock of pain to your eye and hand. Not for those with heart disease in the family.
-- Have a cop jut out behind you, follow you for the 2 blocks after you've passed a semi in that 102 feet before it actually becomes 2 lanes. Maximum effect achieved when his lights go on. If/when he passes you, do not expect your heart rate to normalize, this method will keep your cheeks flushed for a good 5 miles.
-- Try to run over your boss as they walk across the parking lot as you drive in 8 minutes late, then divert course so they don't see it's you driving in. Previous tardiness has proven that even if she beats you into the building, sometimes you can make it look like you got there first- another heart racing experiment, I suggest not doubling them up if at all possible. If unavoidable, be sure to mention that you saw them walking in, offer to do their coffee run for them so they can get right to work.
-- Watch the office lay off dozens of people in 3 days. Notice that every time you get asked for something you are eating, drinking, in the bathroom, or checking emails. Then get a meeting request for 3:30pm, knowing the boss leaves at 4pm. The email at 3:15pm could be hard to arrange, but it will add a kick to your afternoon only a white line can compare to.
-- Be told no supplies are needed for this meeting, but to close the door behind you.
-- Watch the boss explain this and that aspect of the business, it's longevity, mastermind projects from the upper levels of management that has to be carried out one way or another, and sleepless nights over what she has to do with her directives. Give this a good 15 minutes, you will feel your chest and face and ears and scalp tingle with all the extra blood flow as you try to politely stare and bite your tongue so as not to ask to just get it out already.
-- Straight up ask if you are being told to pack your desk to move to another office location or out of the company all together. Be sure the person on the other side of the desk pauses after being asked any question, let alone one that requires an answer with meaning and/or tact, this will inspire actual chest pains, letting you know that not only is your heart working at full capacity, your pecs have had to step in to help.
-- Leave the office with a boatload of information you have nothing to do with, don't know if you can share, and are fairly positive is way above your rank on the totem pole. Mentally run over if you actually were told anything of use to you. Ruminate on if you gave any information that was actually taken in context. Realize you were talked over every time you opened your mouth. This will cause you to loose feeling in your extremities, your peripheral vision to disappear, and the ability to communicate will be not so momentarily incapacitated. Do Not attempt to move while this happens. If you do, blame the ripple in the industrial carpet for your trip. Find a safe secluded place, like your cubicle, and ride the wave.
-- Have the flash of a memory of "this all has to be decided by Tuesday" just as your breath starts to return to normal. Realize that you told her you understood head count cuts need to happen, and that you don't work as well without a team to support - basically negating her ability to move you around the company, or into a roll like you used to have, opening up 30 other offices to work out of. This test is especially effective if you check your emails and find 12 ads for possible places to live have been forwarded to you, 4 of which are in towns your company has offices in.
At this point, I must stress, don't fight the hyperventilation. Especially if you must continue working. It will be much easier to work when you get your metacarpal, visual, and auditory functions working again.
-- Have a coworker invite themselves to your couch for a make-out session. Be sure you are in the company of people who would have no reason to know if it is a joke or not. Works best if you work with them every day. You will know if this is a good heart attack moment if there is dead silence in the room.
-- Get hungry, have no food with you, have a Snapple. Forget there is caffeine in it even if it's diet. This will feel like you have ingested actual hard core drugs. The headache is normal, don't try to satiate it with water, this adds to the dizziness. Find crackers ASAP, before the spins set in. Office chairs are not meant to catch you when you try to stand up in this state, I implore you to find a way to avoid falling back into your seat, as this can leave a nasty bruise in a number of places as you fall into every binder, staple remover, cord, and edge of the table behind your insufficient seat.

It will, if you've done it right, feel like you've partaken in a college experiment to determine if blood letting is a significant and worthy medical technique. Also, I suggest being inappropriately lightly dressed for practicing any (or all, as the case may be) of these heart rate spike tests, as it is a little intriguing to see someone in a scoop neck flushed, not so much with a turtleneck sweater.

This has been a test of the Sassy Emergency Response System. You'll be glad to hear I have made it through this series of tests and have planned a night of rented movies and perhaps a few shots of tequila as a reward for enduring such mild shocks throughout the day. I am still a bit flushed, and kinda hungry, and my chest is sore from the workout, but I assure you, any of these are guaranteed to rewarm chilled fingers, fight back the pins and needles of sleeping limbs, and test your fortitude for standing upright at any given moment.
Now back to your regularly scheduled moody rant...

Just When You Get Comfortable...

I knew it.
I fucking knew it.
fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

Well, at least my chin is breaking out, letting me think maybe I can blame some of this on PMS.

The fun broke today. At 3:30pm.
I'd been merrily going along in my someone sedated but none the less moderately happy demeanored way, very proud of myself in so many areas of my recent behavior, and I came back from a lovely loner lunch with my book and my salad in the window seat at the local eatery and stood for that extra moment to soak up the sunshine before getting back to the office where I found the email that got me wondering who exactly the boss had been demoting and/or cutting all day and how far this recession is really going to go in affecting my daily life.
I guess it's not all that serious, but when all I do is approve stuff and my boss wants to see everything before I approve it, well, I know she won't do what I do, but I'm kinda not seeing that my job will seem all that important when she can whip out her red pen and toss back a stack of papers.
The cross training has begun, and that we have people in our small (but double the size of this time last year) team planning to be out for maternity leave within the year, and I do have some stuff to do on the other days of the month (though my coworkers haven't been able to wait for me to get to work to do some of it lately).
Anyway, that on top of roomie searches on top of single apartment searches on top of coming home for dinner to find I can't even approach the kitchen to going upstairs to find someone had just finished a shower in my bathroom to a little moment of taking deep breaths to wait for the impluse to chug alcohol or chow pie to pass... so, all this stuff has been pretty latent lately, and just when I think I'm getting back in control of my emotions and remembering a healthy perspective on this shit, Trainer Boy responds to my text of "ok, I saw you every other day, so now the prospect of not seeing you for 10 days has me bursting with questions to ask you" with "you got me at such a good time, I'm so horny right now..."
fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.
I have been awsome at turning down the food addiction, I don't even have alcohol in the house and haven't for weeks now (I must go out in public and with people to drink, much different!) , and the gym thing is becoming more of a choice than a chore, and I'm so proud of myself every time I notice that I don't do something because someone else wants me to and for voicing my actual opinion and for taking care of myself and being upbeat and NOT CRYING so much lately, and on the afternoon that has me meditating through the tears I get an offer of hottie sex with a totally inappropriate guy - one of the other vices I haven't been so good at controlling.
Yada yada, an hour later with the texting back and forth he is getting tired and since I didn't have a drink tonight I'm clear headed enough to know these impulses pass.
Don't worry, I didn't miss out, he's totally hooked on me, and probably every other chick he tells to stick their chest out and watches their ass do squats, he just needs to turn 21 so we can get drunk and screw.
Did you see that???? I got propositioned by a super hottie but have been so good at being a good girl that I turned down the opportunity to royally fuck up our flirty friendly and TOTALLY WORKING FOR ME trainer/trainee relationship, then had to slip in the "but he'd have said that to anyone who texted him at 9:30pm".
Stupid hormones. No amount of walking a treadmill or bench presses will combat the NUCKING FUTS in my head.
fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.
And, now I'm horny. fuckityfucken kid didn't even send the pic I've seen and been begging for since Thursday. Remember Sexy, that gym rat I screwed all over the county?? Yeah, he looks like that, but with brown eyes, and a bit more smarts behind them.
aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh IIIIIIIII really don't like this phase of no control, the part where I start to take control and it blows up in my fucking face.
Plus, now I resent my boss for screwing with my day - I don't even approve anything for another 2 weeks, why did she have to throw that out today???
I'm hungry and horny and I didn't get my workout and I can't decide where or how I want to live and I don't think I'm dating coworker all week and no one gets my witty comments in email or text anymore and this is the kinda of state that gets me doing really stupid things, or in bed for a month.
fuck.fuck.fuck.
fuck.

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

Alright, from the two posts from yesterday morning, I can see I'm a bit off my rocker.

Though the details are fascinating, absolutely mind blowingly off the charts even for me - not all bad, not all good, just way off the fucking map - I mean, how many rants about bad roomies and stupid chicks and flirting with inappropriate boys and driving around New Jersey can you hear before you completely disown me?

I'll tell ya, I'm not in the mood to test that limit today. Not in that weepy woah is me pass me a tissue and stop pouring the Merlot kinda way, don't get me wrong, I'm feeling pretty ok, which is completely unexpected considering how I typically go over and over this kind of feeding frenzy of existential crisis like I actually live on dramatic fits alone. Nope, this time I'm ready to admit that I've hit MY limit of the bullshit, that I've apparently maxed out my frustration with these lovely blows to the ego and the happy spirit, that I've become comfortable in my supposed misery.
While I can't quite decide if this is the mature or simply instinctual reaction, I've resigned to just be.
PMS is next week, the breakouts have already started, we'll see how long this lasts, but that I'm here NOT talking about any of it says libraries about how I've just accepted it.
And knowing that a particular state of hell must be reached for the calm to set in scares the shit out of me, but knowing that I'm not comfortable unless the comfort zone is in hell is a recent revelation I didn't think I wanted to prove, that apparently I have.

I will say this though, I'm making some moves these days, I'm standing up for myself a little more, I'm choosing my battles instead of excusing my defeats afterward, and I'm proud to not have the 'what if' reel playing in my head, no matter how the outcomes may fall.

What I have to add to all this is what made me realize I've gone batshit crazy - the cackling, aching, gasping for air hysterics that has me now yawning because my brain was without oxygen for THAT long... a sentance from a post, again from the blogroll I forbid you to scroll through, but one I visit for giggles now and again: If you were to dip a Dr. Seuss book in acid and then lick it from cover to cover, this might be what you'd sketch.
aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhahaahahahahahahahahahahaahahahahahahahahaha ::GASP:: ::Tom Hanks' 'Money Pit' laugh:: ::Steve Martin's 'The Jerk' laugh:: ::tear, one, from each eye, and some drool::

I'm off to enjoy a bed of perfectly puffed pillows to lay my not so puffy face on (Go. Me. with the turning down of potato chips and not adding a chocolate bar to the end of the leftover mu shu pork dinner).

Two Posts, One Morning!!!

OK, so I'd logged on to check the weather, had to pour a little soul out before the shower and coffee (because I couldn't get into my shower or brush my teeth for the coffee, which they drank the whole 10 cups I left for them but not even a warmer of sludge left for me 20 minutes later - they only make 3 cups at a time, how did they do that??), so I decided to check up on my blogroll.

It needs help, don't go there, I'm on it as soon as I get an actual chair to sit in to do it (the milk crate puts my legs to sleep).

One in particular has me completely hooked, like a soap opera wrapped in prime time drama dipped in coke and topped with warm triple chocolate brownies.
So, I'm reading from the bottom up because I just have a whole thing with it now and refuse to let the office environment cramp my enjoyment of sporadic tear droppage and can't get to the home computer every night for fear of forgetting what the actual world looks like, and at the top I see a button, that's a link, that talks about another page. You can immediately see why I HAD to click on it:
(OK, she posted the button link but it's telling me the "tag is not closed" and I don't know how to fix that, so just go here and scroll to the Mickey)

Now, it's been a while since I've been all up in the Blogger World, but before I knew it I was 3 pages over and realizing that if I didn't stop reading my eyes would surely swell shut, and seeings that I have plans that involve driving today, that really would be a problem.

So here's the deal - I knew how to get around Disneyland before I knew how to read a clock. My mom used to sign my school absence notes like this: "Miss Sassy had a very important appointment at my establishment, could not reschedule, had to miss the whole day. Sincerest Apologies, Mickey Mouse." If I could have stolen my school records just for this, I promise I'd buy a scanner to post it to prove it. My parents went to Disneyland for their honeymoon. My cousins loved the idea so much, they did the same - a few of the cousins actually. I made it my pilgramage every year for 10 years starting with my high school grad trip. I tell everyone they MUST experience it, especially if they never went as a kid, it's better as an adult anyway, you can eat as many ice cream sundaes as you can afford and you don't have to take potty breaks from the Jungle Cruise line.
Add to it that Mom died of cancer 6 weeks after diagnosis and this woman has just heard she is a THREEPEAT.
Apparently this time it's worse.
This I can't wrap my head around.
I watched the first set of pills turn my mom from someone with a headache and blurred vision into a water retaining puff of mentally incapacitated weakling barely able to lift a full cup of coffee (we quit buying gallons of milk, couldn't get the half gallon in a carton, had to be the plastic with the handle).
This woman wants to go to DISNEYLAND.
I don't have the energy to think about Disneyland some days.
She is being eaten alive by her own body and this is her wish?

I'm not pulling the Mom card. Really, I resent everyone who carries that kind of baggage like a satchel that motivates every favor they need.
I'm really not asking you to donate because I know you who email me on the side that you've read my posts that I should have buttons for YOU..
I wanted to point out that I might be posting more often because I've found more humanity in the last 12 minutes of blogrolling than I have in the last 4 months of living in this house, working at this job, or existing in my insulated life.
I was deeply touched by this stranger with an alias, and I feel more alive in these tear stained cheeks that I thought I was capable of.

In case you are so inclined, my lurkers, I liked this button too - they reached the $3000 goal in the 3 days between first post and when I read it, so this family can have a dream vacation with their maybe fatally diagnosed mom, but the way no one would tell me anything about the billing of even 6 weeks of cancer, well, you know the insurance company isn't helping her anymore and she will need some new comfy sweats to fight this in:

I'd love to stay and chat, but it's supposed to get up to 60 degrees today and I'm looking forward to appreciating the wind in my hair a little more emphatically today.
Word of the Day: ohgofuckyourselfhonesttearsarefantasticandI'llhaveasmanyasIwant, or, ifyouwantsomegogetthemthelinksarerightherebutbewareofactualprimalinstinctdrivenempathy.