My Green Eyed Monster

Sexy is so into me he can't see straight.

I am like a pig in shit with an idiots grin about it.

I went to the gym last night, finished my dance class, went to say hi to Sexy at the front desk, bumped into the newly-friendly-for-no-reason Blondie (from WAYYYYYY back, same cutie, same blonde hair, same deep blue eyes, same insecure giggle of a laugh) who played my "should I stay and press weights or go home and walk the neighborhood?" like an expert with the "don't chump out, come press your body weight with your pinky!". Ended up chatting it up with Blondie at the water fountain, complete with hair flipping and belly laughs... spent the evening adding weights to machines and trying not to break form with a mid press giggle. Turns out I'm kinda pretty buff - and Blondie knew just about exactly how much that meant in Chick terms.
Yeah, so I'm happy that I got a workout, thrilled that I FELT something when I did it, and that it wasn't torture!!!!! ah, I could get used to paying for THIS. I walk Blondie to the front door, start giving the front desk crew some shit as I approach, wave bye to my new bestest buddie, and take up my post as the Token Chick at the circle jerk of guys Sexy plays with in the evenings.
And the shit slingen begins.
Maximus (as in Assholeous Maximus, aka Sexy's housemate as of the end of the week) is a bit of a testosterone tool, and while it is fun to watch Sexy be a guy, the two of them forget to be sensible for a female. Blondie's name came up about 39848305 times in the next 20 minutes... when Max finally left, I reminded Sexy that "if we can talk about the two girls you're trying to land at school, I can workout with someone" and offered a handshake - he took it and conceeded that I had a good point.
Sexy then engages me in enough conversation to have him locking the doors and walking me to my car. He had been asking if I had movies to watch, then flat out said "I just want to spend some time with you tonight". ::blink:: :: kegal twitch:: ::hide smile so I don't blush while he watches:: He follows me home, whispers in the house, follows me upstairs, pets the dogs with me, lays me on top of him as he leans back on the bed... and proceeds to kiss and touch me like he's in love with me!!!! Girls, Guys, Ya'll, I'm not kidding - I had forgotten what that felt like!!! I'm so used to using sex to gain the fancy of guys that I actually stopped mid kiss (he leaned up to continue, eyes lusty, hands stroking my back, not wanting me to leave) and said "what happened to you?" He kissed me, gently under the ear, didn't answer, just kept loving me.
We eventually had some sex, even with Flo in town... laying in the shower =) New one, I like it, and you can stay hydrated! He washed my hair, soaped me up, dryed me off, left me to do my girly crap in the bathroom, then silently we danced in the hallway for him to brush his teeth. We slept curled around each other, breathing each others breath, hard and fast and through the night. I woke up 5 minutes to my alarm, rolled over to see him looking right into me as he wrapped me up and kissed me. He had to go get changed (oh, and his books for class) so he left me with another kiss.
I rolled out of bed, washed my face, brushed my teeth, looked up into the mirror and found a big ol goofy light from within and shining through my eyes smile that would NOT LEAVE ME ALONE - my morning was a fit of starts to get dressed and pack my gym bag between the all emcompassing joy of the FEELING of being desired as a PERSON, not a sex object.

Its been hours, my cheeks are still burning a bit.
And to top it off, my ass hurts from the power squats Blondie had me doing, so my body really feels as energized as my head... on 5 hours of sleep I am sitting here with no stimulants and getting more work done and with more clarity of mind than I've had in days.

So here we are, I'm falling, he is certainly falling, and the only sure and fast way to solidify that he wants me is to flaunt that I can have someone else =)=)
My Green Eyed Monster - Tamed.

Ah, the Fun of it All

Its been a wild ride these last few days ya'll, lemme tell ya!!!!
I decided I hate the drive to and from work enough to look for a new place to live... picked the day that the entire north side of the county was getting an ASH SHOWER from the fires on the other side of the hill from where I want to live. Nevermind that, I had been frustrated enough by trying to make a tuna sandwich at home - first, the cans that were tuna last week were replaced, in teh exact place in the cabinet, and backwards, with tuna FOR CATS... so I find a can of soup that isn't revolting and I can not find a can opener to save my sanity... 7 cork pullers of various sizes and atrocious contraptionisity -that even the smoke in my hair and lungs didn't deter my spirit!! Got a call from Mr. I'm Totally Sucked Up On YOU Cool Ass Chick To Hang Out With And Bone, aka Mr. Sexy, on his way back into town from his weekend trip as I'm scraping ash from my back window so I can avoid getting ass rammed when I slam on the brakes for a "for rent" sign... he needed company on the long drive and asked me to tell him more about ME!!!!
He is just so cute about the whole "ssooooooo... what would you do if I told you I was sleeping with someone else?" and then "where are you? what are you doing? can I come do that with you? why aren't you stalking me at work tonight? what about that story from when you were 8 years old? why aren't you snuggled up with me yet?" stuff that somehow, to ME, sounds like he has a girlfriend, but for the I'm Too Young To Be Tied Down Freakout Factor we can't be labeled anything so I just call him daily and wink at him incessantly and touch him as much as possible to convince him that he does NOT have a girlfriend. Cuz I'm a Cool Ass Chick like that. :muah:
Anyway, so I'm all freaked out about why we are having the "where are we" talk, then the weekend to wait for Flo and feed her salty chocolatey greasy crunchy late night early morning how about a Goober craving out of fucking nowhere cater to every desire only to have her bail on the whole WELCOME festivities AGAIN while letting every Meg Ryan movie ever made get me looking like I'm swelling from a bee sting allergy to the face, then decide to take my life into my own hands and find a new place to live and then get sucked into the gigling giddy blushing teasing lurve sick puppydog stuff before sunset on Sunday.
Yeah, its a fun ride being a hormonal basketcase with a crush and a 3 day salt binge bloat, you guys should try it. Cheaper than Disneyland, and you get to slap kids out of your way without security being called on you =)

moving on... so I come to work Monday for the FuckAss Monday Morning Meeting that obligates me to a 9.5 hour workday. Cuz we all know we need more Monday in our lives, right??? yeah, so the new girl started this week, the one that got the seat I was going to get promoted to (no hurt feelings, its better this way, but come on) and my boss doesn't show up. Not for the meeting, not for the entire MORNING. By the end of the day, she is trying to let us know what SHOULD have happened first thing of the day... the three of us who were waiting at 7:30am for our leader to dictate the new rules to us look blankly back at her, then I say "I appreciate your checking up on this stuff, but we did that this morning, just the way you said we should, when you weren't here". She gets all perky and says what a good team she has and bebops her way back across the room... my would-be manager looks at me, I look at her, she looks at the new girl, looks back at me, and smiles the weary grin of a manager with a new trainee at the end of a 9 hour day.
At this point I thought "the worst is over".
The sun moon and stars heard this, talked it over with the spirits and gods and mother earth and they all decided to show me how TOTALLY ARROGANT I was with this thought. I don't remember all of it... I do remember filling the dog kibble bowls only to catch the lip on the water dish and toss kibble across the entire kitchen and filling the water dish to boot; being completely out of it mentally while fidgeting and twitching and fumbling anything in my hands due to the caffeine kick I tried to open my eyes with; feeling totally vindicated in my phobia of doorways and enterances and thresholds when I didn't look down when I came back from lunch and ripped the entire bottom of my heel off in the doorjam, leaving the head of the nail to walk on the rest of the day; my phone didn't charge the night before and faded to its death when I tried to call the numbers under "RENTAL" to kill the afternoon lull - I had 4 messages and 3 texts when I plugged it in last night, more than I've had in the last week combined; thought I'd be careful on the drive home and keep 2 hands on the wheel after I tried to apply lipstick in the parking garage (still parked mind you) and smeared the fine edge down the window, to the plastic, and into the upholstry on the door; went around the corner for the "18 pack of cheeeeep swill beer for $11" and managed to rip open the "open here" side of the box as I laid it on the floorboard which made me feel AWSOME when the cop turned his lights on behind me (he needed me out of his way and everyone ELSE was too afraid to go the speed limit so I slam on the gas and then realize "fuck you're an idiot" until he can pass me); uummmm those are the highlights I guess...
How about this for a BWAHAHAHA to the heavens - as soon as I broke open a can of alcoholic refuge and pounded that bad boy, cracked another and headed upstairs to sort laundry, all the fuck ups stopped. Yeah, I get TOSSED from not eating for 6 hours before chugging 2 beers in 15 minutes flat, and suddenly I am coordinated and well spoken and in good spirits and free of all freaky shitty coincidental bitch slaps of humility!!! Not a good lesson, now that I have found EVERY restaurant in the 5 block radius that serves beer with lunch...
Then Mr. Sexy reached out to ask why he hadn't seen me in the gym, asked if he could see me after work, and VWA LA I was back to the tippy top of good spirits in 2.3 seconds FLAT.
Not much sleep last night, but he did need me to curl up in the crook of his arm before he would go to sleep, so that cutsie gag me for the adorableness of it tidbit had me grinning right through his spastic body twitches and worry of his bicep giving me a crook in my neck until the hug-and-roll let he AND I sleep with more appropriate body/sleep contact - the pads of our feet cupping each other, his arms flailing between dreams, my hair nowhere in his mouth =)

And there you have the update of the week for the world of Miss Sassy... actually Would Be Manager calls me Sassy in real life if you can wrap your brain around THAT nugget of whatthefuckedness... Off to see what kind of damage control I need to apply for today's slew of meetings and managerial decisions...

I'm Falling

Its kinda fun, to see yourself falling into an abyss of happiness and endorphine rushes... but when you can still see the scars from the last time, there is an innate hesitation.
Nothing to keep me from smiling at the thought of the way he pets my head at a stoplight, or lights up when I walk up to him at the gym, or at how easily I have fallen into sync with him... just a bit of a 'whoa there' when someone asks me if I've told him I love him yet. I was shocked, but this kind older (70's) gentleman who has danced next to me for the better part of a year and watched me grow through many Lamer's and roomie fights and work and family dramas was being my friend - he said "who says how long it's supposed to take? You're obviously smitten with him, so why not tell him?"
I tell him he's not going anywhere. How his tri-colored eyes mesmerize me. I thank him for not even hinting that I owe him for the dinner he paid for. I emphatically invite him to spend every non-working or schooling moment in my presence just so I can feel my soul lift.
But to tell him I love him, to his face... well, that has backfired on me every time.
Then again, we've had the "everyone I've ever cared about cheats on me, so I'll be joking about your other girlfriends until you stutter on the reply" conversation, and I've found a sore spot of his as well.

I don't know. Maybe I'm seeking something serious and reading too much into it (see, C, I caught your comment before you even THOUGHT it!). Or maybe there is something so EASY about being with Sexy that I can pick up the work phone and walk him through his frustrating afternoon without catching his ick or tisking his flamboyant responses to mild setbacks or even flaunting how easily I am doing what he was trying to do. And if I can get anything EASY in my world right now, I'm going to hang onto it like a pirate to a first time booty baby!!!
Plus, he's fucking HOT and he's into me too and the passion in the bedroom (kitchen, shower, on the couch, in his car, in my car) gets me all a twitter and his laugh makes me smile and I can still make him blush even after he told me the deep secrets he won't tell any of his friends.

Is this what a functional, independent, healthy, cooperative, loving relationship feels like?? How could anyone say being single is better if this is what the alternative is supposed to be?

(no time to edit, needed to blab about something happy before the clusterfuck of a day turned my head to mush)

Today Was a Good Day

itemized:

Got to work on time. Wait, walked into the office with my makeup set, my tummy full, my hair sprayed, and looking all KINDS of sharp. Had the lobby door held for me, got an elevator that didn't stop before my floor (15th up means a lot of "wanna puke yet?" stops on some days), and the one person I had to chit chat on the way up not only hit on me but offered to buy me a drink at lunch.
So I'm in the office. The receptionist we are supposed to fire to meet a budgetary red line in the sand isn't fired. This means I come in and the work I had at the desk when I left last night is done when I show up. Plus she and I get along so I get to BS about anything for 10-15 min a day. BRILLIANT.
Work. Well, yesterday I was a bit overwhelmed with delicate info and situations and it was all a bit terrifying. Today, I just pulled out my To Do list and started doing them. New stuff got added and CROSSED THE FUCK RIGHT OFF. Booya, I KNEW I could pull off this job and the FedEx guy getting my package as he emptied the bin at 4:30:02pm is my proof. And the boss brought pies back from lunch. There are THREE of us in the office, and she brings us TWO pies. There is something about sucking whipped cream off the end of your finger while on a work phone call that is just delightfully sinful and worth repeating. Maybe for breakfast, we'll see.
Socially, I was on my game. The chick at the Hawaiian bbq place I had lunch at was eating up all my jokes and stalls as I tried to find the perfect plate of comfort food. 3 kinds of seared bbq'd meats next to mac salad and rice on top of cabbage shreds. Bottle of bbq sauce on the table and I was flat out grubbin on short ribs and chicken and beef that was so good I had the next table look over at my first-taste moan. The coworkers wondered what I did at lunch because of the grease smear at my lips and the unrelenting smile on my face. Oh, and they met Sexy last week, so they have a visual of what I could be smiling about.
Right, the guys, they were responding to my Sassy ass all day too!
Mr. Techie with the emails and then the personal email addy talks and then the end of day "I promise I have a work question so please pick up the phone!" email from me that had us laughing our asses off all the way until the phones shut off.
Mr. Sexy with the look around for witnesses before the wink and "so how about tonight? can I come over tonight?"and the sheepish grin and look to the floor when I asked if he needed to write my number down somewhere in case he looses his phone for three days and then asks if he can come over. We will fuck like monkeys and do his trig homework, he'll be here in 15 minutes.
And the gym rats were SWARMING... I mean the instructors of classes I take, the front desk guys, the membership guys that hang out and wait for a friend of a member to need a tour, the guys in class that never talked to me the 6 months I saw them once a week.
Yeah, my mojo is fuckin ON POINT. And its the full moon. My boobs are swelling RIGHT NOW. My face is clearing, the sleep pattern is normalizing, the hormones are in the middle of the pendulum swing and I am LOVING IT!!!
Oh, and I talked to just about every friend I have in the last two days and have come to grips with the fact that I will be moving soon. This place isn't worth the extra $100 a month they will be charging come Nov. 1st so this chick is on the hunt for a big room with an attached bathroom and a backyard with a dog for My Georgeous Girl to play with while I'm out workin my Sass to the bone. OR getting boned. Or making sure my muscles stick to my bones. Or eating some meat off a bone.
Shut up. Sexy will be here in 10 minutes, I'm a little distracted.

Yeah, so I can still see the scroll bar so I THINK you can make it without a potty break. I'm trying, give me a little credit. Off to powder my cootch and febreeze the bedspread...

Minor Annoyances

1) If you walk in without an appointment, have me tell you the person you want to talk to is at lunch, then get all nice and say "that door slam behind you, that was her walking in, take a seat and I'll let her know you're here", THEN you hear me put 3 calls to her desk AND you know she was on a call before you shut your whinny trap so I could let her know you were here… yeah, do NOT come up to my desk and say "um, how long is this going to take?" because I will leave you to ROT out here with me. Fucking inconsiderate freak. I remember you. It took 4 scheduled appointments for you to show up. Then you disappeared off the face of the earth when we tried to get you a job and here you are a month later, walking in with glitter and flowey neon green fabric all over, thinking that in two seconds the busy person I've ever MET will drop everything to get you a job just because you walked in??? Sit your skeezy ass down and be patient.

2) We are all busy. Please don't make taking a phone call the end of the world. Sometimes cute and fun, other times it really fucks with my routine of TAKING CALLS. I don't want the calls either, but whining about every one makes ME whine about every one, and one of these times I'll whine as I take the call and that isn't really good for business, is it?? No. So pretend you like it and let me do my job. Thank you.

3) Being sucked up on someone is really not good for me. I'm totally distracted and worthless to the world at large. I find myself checking my phone every three minutes because I haven't heard from him in TWO DAYS. Yeah, we've known each other for like 3 weeks and I couldn't make it to 24 hours without a text to see what he was up to. Fuck. I'm like that freaky stalker chick. A little. I can admit that. Keeps me from CALLING every time I pick up the phone to see if he called. Oh, and I accidentally (no, seriously, I was drunk and I couldn't work my fingers) saved his profile as my wallpaper when I took a pic of him at our Dodger Date Night over the weekend. So THAT isn't helping a thing – ok, so he didn't call, but look how cute he is!!! Stupid female hormones, making me all noodley inside. Is this what people normally feel like when they date someone?? Lamers are SO much easier to deal with.

4) Speaking of… do NOT blow me off for a nooner, get cut off when you call 2 weeks later and be so stoned you can't remember to try to call back, THEN wait 3 weeks to send a text of "hey, wanna have a fuck fest today?" when you realize you have the day off and were to loaded to plan anything to do. And respect a Sassy for not saying "had one yesterday" or "your fat ass can jerk yourself off you lazy bastard" or "make your mommy do it while she does your laundry and cooks your dinner you codependent freak"… and simply replying "no fest for me today". Yeah. I know. Tell him to fuck off. But he works around the corner and sometimes free lunch happens. Plus he can't be stoned mid day so he might be able to, um, remember I EXIST if he buys me a salad bar.

5) My body is kinda getting on my nerves. The incessant hair regrowth when it is SSSOOOO obvious by the constant razor burn that I DO NOT want hair there; the zit formation that is more like synchronized swimmers of goo in my pores than any normal adult acne; the fucking sinus infection/allergic reaction/head cold that refuses to disappear no matter how many tissues I blow apart or how much sleep I get or how much alcohol I drink to kill it all; the pounds I keep hanging on to for no reason so I feel like I want chocolate cake to feel better but hate thinking that so in turn I HATE eating salad because its not making a difference anyway; and that fucking stench of sex that will NOT leave me no matter how much I think of baseball stats or firey car crashes or the snot in my head… my body is simply always ready for sex and jeebus forbid I don't have to pee for 2 hours because THEN my panties get wet with joy juice and make me sit in hot wet sex smell all day. Yeah, TMI, whatever, its getting on my nerves that I can't NOT be thinking of sex, nakedness, Mr. Sexy, or masturbation during ANY part of my regular existence.

6) Post lunch apathy. I KNEW this would happen. I tried to avoid it. I tried to work while I ate. There is just something about this desk and the "don't call back until 3pm" and the "wait til they are done before using the printer" and all that nonsense that makes after lunch a time to kill more than a time to work and its starting to get on my nerves that I keep thinking weekend hours are necessary to take care of getting my job done when I am here for at least an hour a day paralyzed by "now what??". And then the sex thoughts creep in, then I wonder if Mr. Sexy has called, then I want to check my phone, then I want to check my email, THEN I get a whiff of a second wind and try to shuffle papers until something I can work on hits the top and then the phone rings and I get distracted picking my cuticles until they tell me something I can work with and before I know it I've opened a word doc to tippety tap some minor frustrations out so I can concentrate and VOILA I'm half way down the second page before I even THINK about cracking my fingers and getting into the topic.
Yes, I was a GENIUS at the 5 minute free write in high school. And the 25 page term paper started the night before it was due. This shit just flows and sometimes you all are lucky enough to catch a glipse.

Oh, and since I kinda buzzed over it – Mr. Sexy and I went on a real date to a real event in a real city on Saturday night. We laughed, talked, flirted, kissed, smiled, stared into each others eyes, shared buffalo wings and hot dogs and vodka drinks and had a wonderful time just hangen out. My friends tell me this is what I'm SUPPOSED to be treated like and not to FREAK OUT because I've got a guy interested in me. Well, I'll try to get used to not being treated like last weeks garbage if he can validate all this by returning my phone call. Happy thoughts people…

mini post

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck Blogger, formerly 60 Second Update

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mojo. Its a wonderful thing. =)

blink blink

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

all I could do was blink about it.

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

Fuck I talk alot!

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

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

Deductive Reasoning

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Weekend Update

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

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

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

Friday, Brought To You By the Number 3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Appreciate the Irony

The only agenda item my manager brought to the table at yesterdays branch meeting was the corporate produced memo about professional dress.

Today, I figure if always stand up straight, my button down collared shirt is long enough to cover the pockets and zipper of my pink jeans (that one person thought were linen slacks, don't hate).

The regional manager decides, after a week of threatening to be in our office, that today is the day.
I sit in my chair ALL MORNING so she can't possibly catch a glimpse of what are so obviously jeans pockets OR my open toed sandals (they have a moderate heel, but still).

Woman-ness is amazing in so many ways.
There are certain days however when all womanly parts can take a flying leap out my 15th story window.
Today, thanks to Aunt Flo and her always amazingly timed visits, was a day like this.

In an ibuprofen haze, I traipse through Target looking for a new outfit to wear.
Everything is XXXL. No Joke. If it wasn't a tent, it was maternity wear.
Even a dress would have been an improvement on my current situation, and since I have shaved this week, a skirt to match my dress shirt would have been worn out of the dressing room.
Somehow I refuse to pay $30 for a pair of ill-fitting AND off color anything, even if they would stay on without suspenders.

As I'm wondering why this had to be the week I cleaned out my car and the 5 pairs of shoes and 4 pair of pants and 3 gym outfits out of my backseat, I ponder the awesome coincidence of it all. Then curse under my breath at every step toward the Shout It Out stick of purse sized detergent that might get me out of this.

On my way I pass the lingerie.
"At least clean panties would be some improvement" and I continue with the internal Tazmanian Devil talk.

So, with the regional manager in the office, I come back from lunch, late, with my drive thru food in hand, in PJ pants.

Salvation comes in navy blue cotton with an M on the tag next to the $10 red sticker.

The day after the memo about professional dress in the office, and on the morning I cave to the call of the jeans, I end up this afternoon sitting Indian style in my chair in pants with an elastic waistband.

How is your Thank-Jebus-Its-Not-Monday turning out?

EDIT: I LOVE when Laurie comes back with an edit, and with the reading of all her most recent posts in a row this afternoon, she is part of the reason I needed to post today.
Also I must credit Mr. Techie, who is the reason for the post more directly as this started as an email to him. I thought he might get the fun of the corporate policy smackdown meaning just nothing to me when I dressed myself TWICE today.
And I will grace you all with a bit of why he is at the forfront of my workday thougthts, his reply:
Do you write poetry? You must at least keep a journal.
Though not one to have me giggling or falling out of my chair in a spasm of laughter, he DID manage to put a smile on my sourpuss face today, and for that I bombard his email DAILY.

I'm Melting

I'm not kidding.

I woke up this morning at 8:45am for no reason except I was too hot to sleep.
This is after waiting until 1am to go upstairs last night because I refused to sleep on the couch.
Well, I was there all day and passed out from the heat three times, but shut up.
It was STILL.SO.FUCKING.HOT. at 1:30am that even in my heat induced coma, I couldn't actually sleep. To boot, my dog was panting enough to create a breeze of her own and I felt just awful about it. So I got the both of us cool towels to lay under. She appreciated it, but couldn't sit under a towel no matter what. I finally convinced her she didn't have to sleep with me and could hijack some floor space from T.
T got a new window sized AC unit from her sister who bought it when her central AC went out. After checking the electric bill (do we all remember what happened when Squeeky and K got heaters for their rooms??), she decided $15 a month was worth being comfortable in her room.
T came home last night at 11pm and reported it was 93* out. Its been dark for hours at this point ya'll. This isn't a sun vs. shade issue at 11pm. This may have been an accurate reading. Which means my house is holding onto however hot it was at 4pm and is ready to cool down to whatever it is outside.
93*.
OK. So its 1:30am, My Georgeous Girl has finally remembered the 4 times I marched her into T's room and said "stay. sleep. be happy my love." and throws T's door open. Well, this gets them all up. T takes a piss while I try to wrangle the two cats and two dogs back into her room before she gets back. T's room was 75* at that point. Her carpet shocked my feet with the cold. I am LIVID that she won't leave the door open, but I'll just take that towel soaked in cold water and sleep under that.
No big.
Until I wake up at 8:45am. T had to be at work at 8am. Both dogs are drooling puddles and panting while laying next to my box spring on the floor I call a bedroom set. I am rolling to the beat of their breathes. My skin has been sitting in a wet towel for 7 hours. The fan blades are click click click clicking against the box that contains them. My weekends usually entail sleeping til noon, taking a shower, puting on a bikini, tanning while reading a book or magazine, taking a dip in the pool, then thinking about all the stuff I could do but instead melting into the couch with a cool beverage and remote and hoping it chills enough to get up to my room at a reasonable time.
Yeah. So today I know the dogs will finally go downstairs and sleep on the tiles and I can get some shut eye. I roll the barely wet but still cool towel off me, roll over, and instantly know that the pillow is too hot to be comfortable. I roll the other way, pull a pillow from the bottom of the stack, and THAT one is also too hot to sleep on.
"Fuckity fuckin this is some bullshit ain't it FUCK" is the first sentance I uttered today.
The dogs instantly pop up and try to be excited to see me but can only muster a "hey, my mouth is wide open to pant not smile give me a fuckin break and help a hair covered beast out would ya!"
I let them outside. I decide to take a shower. I pull back the curtain, place my left hand on the oposite tile wall, lean in over the toilet to turn on the water, and nearly faceplant onto the spout because of that silly "hey this is fuckin hot I can't touch it any more so back the fuck off of it" reflex.
Thats right. At 9am, the tile of my shower wall was so hot my hand couldn't tell me it was scalding hot before jerking violently away from it.
FUCK.

My body is revolting against being boiled and I feel every orifice leaking out.
No, I didn't eat a narely mexican dinner that was left out.
No, Aunt Flo has decided this is an inhospitable environment and REFUSES to visit, though she dropped her bags off THURSDAY at lunch (just in time for me to call Mr. Lamer #2 and say "we had plans tonight, if its a party of three, do you still want me over?" Its SUNDAY. No Flo. What a bitch.)
Yes, I am drinking 20 oz of water every 90 minutes.
No, I haven't peed yet this weekend. Not. Kidding. Not. Funny. Tried drinking beer with the water to get SOMETHING to fill my bladder. I didn't drink fast enough (HAHAHAHAhahahaha) or I am THAT dehydrated from, um, SITTING ON THE COUCH all day yesterday.

So its now Sunday at 1:15pm. My internet at home has been down since T had the AC unit on with her computer and TV and DVD and 2 fans and decided to blow dry her hair (because her room is too cold to let it dry by itself) on TUESDAY. (C, I forgot to print your instructions - I was all "oh, my friend emailed me how to fix it, FUCK!!!". Its printed and in my purse right now, maybe we can avoid a service charge for tomorrow??)
I abandoned my Ever So Loving No Matter How Miserable She Is Gorgeous Girl after placing her kicking and screaming into the pool to sit on the top step (don't want to drown her and she is SHORT on those 5" legs). Her look to me said "what the fuck is the matter with you why am I in water you know I hate being in water and I look at you like your an idiot when you're in here why aren't you in here and why are you talking to me like I'M the one who is being stupid for trying to get out but fuck I'm too short and too long to get out on my own please stop splashing me and why can't I move this step is too narrow to do anything but take this torture you are SSOOOO not getting any kisses after this".
Thats about all I could take from her before fishing her 50 lbs out and watching the water evaporate instantaneously as she took two steps and quit dripping. I didn't even need a towel ya'll.
Fuck. Its. Hot.
It was 10am and already too hot to handle sitting outside.
So I've got her core tempurature mediated by the dip, gave her a rawhide to play with so she would plop down on her dog bed and sit under the fan for a bit (slick trick, I know, but it worked for me and I am TRYING to not come home to a heat stroked dog!), and I slip out the front door.
I drive to the office to get online.
I pretend I'll do the 5 hours of work I need to do to be caught up. I sit here blogging instead.
I realize have to go get an oil change, buy tampons, and attempt to get out of the grocery store with more than junk food. Maybe I'll still get into the bikini this weekend. If I'm going to be a sweat covered sloth, I might as well get the euphoria that only UV rays can provide. (I didn't just make that up, I read it in a magazine that made it up last month.)
Either that or I'll call T and have her dunk my Gorgeous Girl in the pool again and stay here and check the rentals online.
I mean really, my pup dog is awsome and I've moved 6 times with her so the "stay because the dog likes it" is a RETARDED logic because she couldn't sleep last night due to the heat and she'll be happy anywhere because she ROCKS like that.
What?? You KNOW this would be a lot more fun blog material. Move closer to a job I don't think I like, break in new roomies, wonder if I did the right thing, be closer to the havoc that has been my night life lately... and really, unless I go back to work at Cubeville (another plethra of blog material AND time to post it AND make bank), why would I stay in a house where my entire home life consists of wishing it was cool enough to do ANYTHING (laundry, budget, tweezing my eyebrows, crafts, dusting - none have been done in a month) while not talking to my roomies and hoping I don't have to wake up to them or their psycho boyfriends coming over at 2am.

Tangents. Can't help them. Love me anyway. And COMMENT please, especially if you have me on your blogroll Laurie, so I know you're here. My stat counter tells me how many stop by, not who you are. I need the love, my dog can't stand to sit with me these days!

Oh the H.E. double hockey sticks with it.

Call me crazy, but when you've been up for 8 hours and the bestest part of your day was watching a fuzzball sway in the wind in the parking garage, perhaps its time to find a desk to crawl under and try again tomorrow.

The really awful part of that statement is that my weekend ROCKED!!!! Friday night on the town, courtesy breakfast to stave off aftereffects, nap in my bed before having the house to myself all day to watch movies and be a dork with the dogs and sing aloud and cook food and overall hide from the blistering heat outside followed by a leasurely Sunday morning before heading out to The Valley for a poetry reading by the author, an old family friend, and spending the rest of the day being a girl with my sister at an outlet shopping mall and a comp'd dinner at her place of work.

Somehow I thought if I were busy for the weekend, the work ethic would bleed into my work week. But Oh Haaaiiiiillllllll NO. Today is worse than ever!! Not that the muggy heat and my house would have me being any kind of productive. Not that its a major problem the AC is on so high in here that my triple padded booby bra is still letting the headlights shine through and sitting here is freezing my fingertips blue. I've met deadlines, taken notes at a meeting, done stuff, had breakfast energy drinks AND lunch... but somehow all that is calling to me (besides blog crawling, but I did that last night without the restricted access) is the foot rest under my desk.
Maybe new nylons aren't uncomfortable enough to keep me from thinking this outfit is more comfy than my PJs??? When I wear any that is.
Perhaps its that I got barked at first thing today and my inner adolescent is finally ready for her rebelious phase??
Perhaps its just that there is a lull in the office and its the hum drum mentality in the vents that is killing my appetite to work??

Heres the real rub. I went out to Happy Hour/lets run up his cards on top shelf shots all over town with this friend of a guy I guess I was dating last year. He is a year younger than me, covered in tatoos, has two kids by two mamas (didn't know that until the night was half over ya'll, give me a little slack), and makes TRIPLE the money I do by sitting at home 4 days a week and 'managing' the operations of a construction site via paperwork.
I sat in a restaurant and watched waitresses pick up $20 tips every hour. EVERY HOUR ya'll. How much of that do you think they declair on thier taxes??? How much you wanna bet their homes are nicer than mine (if they have two brain cells about them)?? I know our bartender was remodelling a house in the Valley - in 4 months she doubled its value and isn't in debt at all. She is paying for it with cash out of OUR pockets!!! And here I am deciding if anorexia is a good enough diet to start an IRA for, because I can't afford to save and eat at the same time.
Whhhhaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!!
Yeah, I'm whining. I'm a double major college graduate from a real university with a real campus and a real library to visit and its been 5 and a half years since I graduated and started in the work force and I am making less than my sister was at 18 years old and 3 months out of High School!!!
And the roomies are pissing me the fuck off. Its not them as people. Its them as roomies. And THAT pisses me off more than anything because I either have to euthenize my dog and live in a hovel of an apartment somewhere or find new (and possibly much MUCH worse) roomies to learn to deal with and then slowly (or quickly) despise.

So here I am, trying NOT to read the classifieds for roomies OR new jobs because neither are that bad AT ALL in the great scheme of things but somehow my mood and self worth have plummeted severly since I started accepting my house as where I live and accepting that moving up the ladder in an corporation will involve some growing pains AND I'VE BEEN LAID which pisses me off even more that it hasn't put me in a SUPER upbeat mood because now I have a trail of men who keep waiting for me to call but all I want to do is sit alone in a hole.

Fuck PMS and all its little symptoms. I'm blaming it on that, and I don't care what time of the month it is - this way I'll assume this fit of insufficiency will pass eventually and the sense of glee and wonderment at how sweet my life is will feel like normalcy instead of a break in the rainstorm my little black cloud keeps gifting me.

Someone told me to get on the pill to help regulate my moods - anyone got any advice on that particular topic?

Miss Tangent if Your Nasty

Again, this entry started as a reply email. This is literally how it went down:
I got the first comment on the last post (which was a reply gone awry), found the attachment I didn't want to find and save and link for all ya'llz, and started typing away.
I PROMISE it started innocently... "here it is, I think anytime I see a video with those little Chinese or Japanese characters along the bottom its about the coolest thing I've ever seen" (or whatever actually came out to you, Curmudgeon)... and then this started falling out of my fingers:

I got a few emails from Mr. Techie today... a bit of gab from the suddenly silent that got me through the thick of the maylay today. Only an hour left and I am chewing gum at the front desk (a major personal no-no law I'm breaking) in order to preserve the enamel of my teeth from being ground away in the process of giving myself TMJ. He was very nice to reply to the email titled "REAL WORK THIS TIME" with lightning speed, but to have him tell me to call in the trouble was a little frustrating... I told him flat out that I'd called the tech support line and gotten through the 3 minutes of hold time FIVE TIMES before emailing him all the details of the account I needed worked on AND exactly what I needed pushed through before the chick left our office and somehow he thought "you should call or email this one in, sorry" was a FANTASTIC reply to the person he once had an hour and a half conversation with "even though [he] usually isn't a talker, but somehow [I] am just that much fun to chat with".
Ok, he's busy and thats a bit unfair, but I have offered at least a handful of times for him to tell me to stop bypassing normal protocol by emailing him directly and he never tells me to back off so instead I get my girls in the office standing over my desk telling me that my charms must be wearing off because didn't I have that guy I could call and he would help me out Like.That.Every.Time and I have to try to email him my problem while explaining to them that the phones have been busy for the last 15 consecutive minutes and if I could get ANYONE in the 18 cubes (5 of which, according to Mr. Tech, are vacant right now) of Techies to pick up my incoming call I would surely ask if I could be transfered to my favorite Mr. there and have him fix the problem while I razz him about not having time enough for me anymore.

Just another afternoon in the life of Miss Sassy!
If only the computer would quite jerkin me around I might consider it all my inability to take other peoples rants about their day and toss them over my shoulder, but when I've got to plug in the keyboard in the middle of looking up info for a caller and the mouse gets lodged in the slidy shelf at just the right place for me to happen to hit all the "exit this program" keys on the way back into my chair and the left button clicks to delete the 45 labels I just spent 1.5 hours getting together... and as the fumes from that mishap clear from the 65* air that someone thinks is comfortable office tempurature but I happen to find about as frigid as open air camping in February I get today, the roomie calls to let me know that the water in the house has been turned off and the guy won't be back to start fixing the problem I BROUGHT TO THE LANDLORD/HER DAD'S attention a month ago (after it had been leaking since New Years when He noticed/wanted to fix it, but it is in HER house, the one where if we put a plant on the kitchen table it is liable to end up back on our bed) until 8am which wouldn't be such a problem since I can do a day without a shower (or go to Target and buy flip flops before going to the gym anyway and using their facilities) but 8am is exactly in the middle of my 'get ready for work' time and there will be a plumber HOPING I didn't have to take a shit in my own toilet for 12 hours and ALL UP IN MY STANKY SPACE while I try to have a somewhat normal morning.

47 minutes left in the day and counting.
Thanks to Laurie, I am all in the Shank mood (being Tuesday and all)... and being me, its all one long tangential schmorgesborg.

This is actually how the thoughts link in my head.

Bow to me, bask in my glow, try to keep up, reread if necessary, but never doubt that sometimes when someone is looking you right in the face and listening to you ask 'whats the matter?", it is possible that before they look up at you they have a thought that is something like: "just because you were an hour and a half late to meet someone in my office and then called me from the lobby and chewed my ass about how no one was helping distract her from your tardiness ALL THE WAY UP THE ELEVATOR and then you wouldn't let me do anything remotely close to my job because you somehow still didn't have your shit together and I had to do your prep work while you stood ON MY HEAD and corrected all my misclicks and mistappitytaps instead of going back to my other desk and taking it over so there is no way I can get any work done on the warm side of the building OR enjoy seeing the surface I spent an hour cleaning up this morning", in which case you might want to stop with the PDA play after they offer the "just workin" answer and pretend like you care when you pop off with "no, thats not it! where is your smile? whats wrong, really??" because there are still some people with enough brain cells left and enough food in their guts to be able to have this entire internal monolouge in the time it takes you to snap your gum.

Still bowing? no??? get your ass to yoga and learn how to hold a stretch, geeeezz.
Jose and I have a date, and maybe I'll be taking a morning swim to get his stench off me before I kung fu the plumber for mirror space in the morning.

The Little Things

Riddle me this - even as a receptionist I don't get it - if you say you're out for a lunch break, then have to get a call an hour and a half later to remember to report that its a lunch meeting with collogues, and THEN decide when you are in the lobby of the building getting on the elevator that 2.5 hours after you leave the office is the PERFECT time to call and check in with your ETA. WTF!!!! After 3 calls to her cell and a call from the collogue letting us know she's on her way FROM THE OTHER SIDE OF THE PARKING LOT, the ONLY time she could manage to tell us in the 4 hours before this meeting to tell us she'd be out the entire middle of the day is in the 45 seconds before she walks through the door???!?!?!!?

I'm just pissy because the saintly Auntie that took my sister in during her time of need is being a big bloated alcoholic jerk. I called the house looking for Sissy and she took the opportunity to say "if you don't want to look at someones picture, take it down instead of flipping it over so it doens't hurt anyones feelings". Yeah, after you knew Sissy was living with you and "cleaned the room for her", somehow the picture of you in your bra and panties straddling a champagne bottle didn't make it off the only mirror in the room and out of politeness she feverishly added a number of her own pics to drown out your naked ass staring at her whenever she put makeup on and THREE MONTHS LATER I come to visit and don't need your milky thighs staring ME down as I put my makeup on so I preserve the pic and its obviously ONLY location available in the house (because HER bedroom mirrorSSSSS or HER private half bath mirror are WAY out of the question) instead of letting it fall into the oblivion that is Sissy's stuff or ::gasp:: put it in her room to be trampled by the cats or lost on HER terrain of terror... its all my fault that your fat ass needs "an inspiration picture" for you and your fiance in Sissy's bedroom and somehow my turning it over meant I hate you.
So your doc told you beer is eating your insides so that stomach pain you have is your juices leaking to the rest of your organs. So you have to switch to vodka even though you vowed to never drink hard alcohol again because you turn into a raging bitch and then pass out EVERY TIME but you HAVE to drink so you buy Ketel One on your just-lost-my-part-time-temp-job and am living off of haircuts budget. That does NOT mean you have the right to bitch me out for your nuddie pics being turned over in MY SISTERS BEDROOM on my lunch break!!!

Thank You MOT for inspiring that valve release =)

Also on the list of why the hell am I thinking about this stuff: I read an article this weekend about how "serial tanners" that we all thought were so full of themselves and HAD to spend 10 hours a week in the tanning beds are actually junkies. They replaced the bulbs in the beds so a group of these SoCallyFryBabes were only getting 10 minutes of UV rays and the other 10 minutes were just warming lights. They actually started withdrawl symptoms - twitching and all ya'll!!!!
I read this article as I untied the back of my bikini top and gave myself a wedgie to get as little of an untanned area as possible with the roomies mom and grandma walking about the kitchen (exactly 30 feet and a full wall of glass slider door away). It reminded my why I always feel so refreshed after a weekend of doing NADA, NUT'n, Zip, Zilch, bumpkis - its the happy neurotransmitter release that floods me after as little as 20 minutes twice a week (exactly what my weekend agenda ALWAYS includes!!).

Yeah, and... if I was in the office until midnight on Friday night, but I was on the phone for like 3 hours of it, and I got some work done but not 6 hours worth, but no one in the office has anything to do with any of the work was done, how exactly do I mark my timesheet for that?

Oh, and someone please get all Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind on my ass and find that part of the brain that makes someone IRRESISTABLE to obsess about once they are totally and unequivicably unavailable. Its like a sickness to have my heart jump when the little "you have mail" envelope pops up to get Really disappointed to check it and see its not Mr. Techie but some actual work related crap.

Right. I should be working. Today is the "no matter what you get overtime this week" day and my morning meeting that should take no more than 45 minutes ran soooooo late that I had to call my higher up and say I WASN'T an hour late to work this morning, I was in a meeting since an hour BEFORE I usually get to work and STILL didn't manage to get my ONE 4 minute project done on time. So the way I see it, my afternoon of lollygagg'n isn't a total waste since I did get my butt in high gear after being held hostage all morning. And with all the work I probably won't add to a timecard, I'm just break'n even. Yeah, thats it. And maybe this week I'll get downstairs and into my comfy gym clothes and finish the projects that Somehow ::whistle:: :: kick my foot:: ::hands behind back:: don't get done in the 41.5 regulated hours per week. Hmmm...

I wish I could link faster, or I'd have some cool stuff. I can't really save anything to this computer or I would!! Maybe if you comment with a real address to reply to, I can forward you the link in the email that got this whole post started. Note worthy, I promise.

A tut alure ya'll, I've gotta another email to get excited about and then be disappointed that they want me to work about!

Back in the Saddle

Its official.
No deny'n it.
Tried to talk myself out of it.
Worked a logical circle around it.

Alas, I'm a slut.

Well, or so in touch with my actual needs that I will take advantage of meeting them.

According to my friend Monty, Maslows Heirarchy of Needs includes sex amoung food and drink and shelter.

Its basic.
And I'm tapp'n into my most primal needs and meeting them with a flurry.

After a long depression linked to the mammilian/emotional brain, I have recovered refreshed and on the prowl with my reptilian/basic needs brain running the show.

It was easy really. I planted the seeds of inquisition about 6 weeks ago, I played phone tag, I refused to respond to his lame attempts at 11:30pm rendevus, and suddenly I found myself playing him like a pawn.
And I don't play chess.
Thats how easy he was.

I was working VERY late, chatting on the cell phone while pulling the shredable files from the cabinets and tossing them on the floor like a slob. Behavior I could NEVER pull off if the office were abuzz with people and chatter and activity.
I get a beep that another call is coming in.
I know its him.
I tell him I'll call him later.
2 hours later I wake him.
With only 10 minutes of back and forth, I have the file cabinet project done, my shoes back on, and a midnight date to Dennys to get me dinner.
S C O R E.
I never eat at dinners, and let me tell ya... there is something about OJ and french toast at midnight that will send you over cloud nine no matter WHO your sitting across from!

He holds my hand in the car on the way back to his place, offers me a glass of wine, I say I'm good, we make out in the hallway, he says this would be more comfortable in the bedroom, and 45 minutes later he gets up to get me a towel AND a bottle of water without being asked for either.
And he didn't just toss them at me. Like some assholes do. I got them handed to me as I basked in the glow that is an endorphin rush brought on by being smacked ever so expertly on the meat of the rump while getting the fingers involved in cum #3.

Do I tell the judgement commitee in my real life that some things AREN'T finished after college? Will they believe I wasn't drinking either time? Can they fathom that I'm not covering for anything, that I am more well adjusted today than at any time in the past year???

Well, I'm telling you.
The Ass is back in Sassy if you know what I mean.

I must admit, I am a little disappointed that after 6 months of committed gym rat-dom, I find my lower back a bit of achy after these escapades. Time to adjust the regime.
Keep going to yoga so I can hold my legs open? yes.
Continue to do crunches every trip so I can manipulate myself and him with graceful ease? yes.
Do more pushups so I can hold tighter to my position on the bed? yes.
Learn how to use that bar that you lay over and hold weights to your chest and do backward situps on? Going this afternoon.
Thank every one of my teachers for giving me the stamina, strength, and self esteem to land two Lamers who can't return phone calls on time but can be talked into buying my late night meals and letting me ride them until I'm totally tripley satisfied? I'm pulling out the cute stationary as I type.


On another topic, my tan lines are coming very nicely. Somehow this little halter top bikini is perfectly fitting over my nipple section so that I don't mind my roomies being home during my tanning time.
Compoundly, laying on my stomach totally topless - not just with the back untied, but with the whole top off and slipped under the pillow - and realizing that the roomies mom and grandma were in the house for the first time is not nearly as embarrassing as you'd think.

Also, the mild disappointment of finding out that one of your favorite flirt buddies is taken can be overcome in time to send a reply email containing the sentance "when you ever take my invitation to meet, just bring me a friend to play with while you and your g/f suck face =)". There is something fantastic about not knowing the people in real life. I don't have to be put off my his bad hair days or the way he shovels food or what a dork he really is (he works in tech support ya'll, I mean come ON)... but on the phone and via email he is a wonderful man in my life; always glad to talk to me, always ready to make me laugh, and willing to put in the effort to quell my workplace worries. He doesn't even get jealous when I talk to other Tech Support guys. So he had a girlfriend that can read his open IMs at his house and can't chat with me. He just crossed into the PERFECTLY unavailable guy for me and the teasing and taunting is about to exponentially explode. And I'll tell ya, I've been pretty brazen about throwing myself at him with the text messages to my email that were forwarded with my phone number on them, emails from the personal address, talk of meeting midstate for a weekend on the beach... I mean we all know I'm not a tease, but there is something devilishly fun about offering a chase to a guy 4 hours away =)=)

Its midafternoon on the last day of my weekend. I'm going to shower some heavy conditioner in my hair, get back in the bikini to solidify my tan lines, check my laundry, and maybe think about eating something so IF the gym crosses my mind for that back workout I'll be up for it. Or I'll have two beers for lunch and end the day catching up on Tivo.

Welcome to a closer representation of my most perfect life to date. Working my way up the ladder, social life blossoming, money sitch is healthy, no latent desires to emotionally self mutilate, family squared away, contented dog sleeping at my feet, room kinda clean but not neurotically so, and the rest of the day to do whatever the fuck I want because I am in control of whats happening to me and chose to have the free time commercials keep telling me I don't have.
Boo ya.

Break the Seal

For any annonomous blog readers who don't need all that "TMI", stop here. There will be gruesome details of a personal nature that certainly have no relevance to any company info you may be seeking out to incriminate me with, even though I am no longer talking about you anyway.

Alright, for the rest of you...
Turns out, after consulting my desk calendar, that I didn't quite hit the 6 month mark of celibacy. That would have been NEXT MONDAY.
Thank the heavens and all things naughty and carefree that Mr. Lamer turned desperate like me!!!
He has been off and on calling for a few weeks but we never connected. I called him Friday to see if he wanted to have a Happy Hour dinner with me and he declined with a promise to call the next day.
I thought of this promise as I stood in the shower Saturday afternoon with a razor in one hand and heat stroke threatening my ability to stand. I decided not to tempt fate or shaving in cold water, or the inability to maintain my vision while bending toward a tiled wall while covered in water and shaving cream. I had thoughts of Laurie HATING her waxer for not being available to facilitate her sex life and realized I trying to convince myself that my lack of drive to facilitate my own sex life was actually my being empowered - somehow I thought I deserved a shank anyway!)
He called at 7pm and asked if I had eaten dinner yet.
We met at a local sit down spot at 8:30pm. He drove to MY town to buy ME dinner. I was overwhelmed with glee that someone was putting forth effort and it wasn't ME!!!! Hahahahahaha, the power of the vajayjay!!!!
So he was quite during the meal, watching the numerous TVs and visably disarmed by the alcholic beverage he sucked down in true Navy boy style.
As we left, he asked if he could see my place, if it was ok if he followed me home.
KA-CHING ya'll!!!
I politely said 'sure, follow me out of the parking lot this way' and walked to my car.
Once inside, I vehimently cursed myself for having little faith in this mild mannered machismo man and did the run up the calf to see exactly how bad it was.
As I waited for the light to change, I texted everyone I know who is strapped to their cell phone to ask if it was poor one-nighter edicit to jump into the shower while he amused himself in my room... then remembered the time I KNEW the guy needed his women shaved within an inch of their life and came back ready for action to find his drinks had made him PASS OUT and thought "I warned Mr. Lamer, he can deal".

We are in my room, sans drinks. He comments on my MANY MANY many many many wall hangings and shelf stuffers before asking if we could watch a movie. I gave him my stack of DVDs and went to piss the 22oz beer I had with dinner (who forgets that bladders can't deal with beer AND has broccoli for lunch the first day in 6 months she has a guy in her bed??? Damn straight its Sassy!)
We started Moulin Rouge, got all comfy laying on the bed COMPLETELY SEPARATED.
Yeah.
I have my pillow, he is on the FAR SIDE of a queen bed with one leg off the matress on his stack of pillows.
No body HEAT contact people!!!
I was worried.
This is the guy that met me online, was hot as hell on the phone, clammed up on our first/coffee date, let me bring a 6pack to his apartment for our second meeting where 3 beers and 3 hours left him comotose and me walking bowlegged for 2 days, then over the next 3 months took me to 4 scary movies and I didn't get so much as a good night kiss out of any of those $30 evenings.
Was he backing out? Did he need a cuddle? Was he just needing someone to tell him he looked good with his muscles all veiny and bulging out of his AE tshirt?? Am I gonna have to wait until the next time he falls asleep and take that 4 minute window to molest him into giving me what we both know I need???
AAGGHHHHH!!!
Well, he commented on his sleepiness, I turned off the movie, and we declaired "good night" to each other about 48 times in the next hour and a half... each time after various conversation topic changes, glances toward the other, body contact turned "what did you do for Father's Day?" (NOT ME), more and more undress, a conversation about why it had been so long since anyone had been in my bed that ended (by him) "wow. thats trauma. don't worry, He'll come back to you." with a very firm "come on, lets cuddle" to break the silence the INSTANT it was getting obnoxious... Yeah, it took about 4 minutes for our pressed half naked bodies to create enough body heat to require the fan to get OFF oscilate and get DIRECTLY ON US ON TOP SPEED. Then I rolled to my stomach, reached out to ask if his nipples were functional or just for decoration with a little flick to prove my point, and in the next 14 seconds he directed my roaming hand from his chest to inside his boxers to both of us being stripped to me riding him like the bucking bronco I remembered him to be.

Just.Like.That.

A few phone calls, a dinner, a few hours of finding our comfort zone, and just like that I got mine THREE TIMES.
He didn't want the last one, but I told him I would be nice. He said he wouldn't last long, I said I didn't need him to =) Damn me and my knowledge, I got him to take my lead, let me tease the everloven vein popp'n breath out of him, let me shiver and quake all over, and THEN give him the three pumps he needed to seal the second deal of the morning.
I even cooked him breakfast in gratitude, and he didn't say a damn thing about my toaster oven being set to "frozen" and turning his whole wheat toast into frisbees.
Again he asked if we could watch TV (he's simple, but if you look at him from the neck down, you just don't give a shit anymore) and with almost no body contact and short menial conversations we mustered through Madagascar (its a cute movie, and the roomies were home, I don't want to hear it) before his need for a clean pair of chonies got the better of him.

I get off work at 3pm today and am only about an hour away from where I need to be at 7pm. I'm thinking, after all that effort, and that he inspired me to FINALLY trim the hedges and get back my camel toe, maybe I'll ring him and see if I can sneak in a little afternoon fun before my drive to the City. (Thanks for revv'n me up Monty!)
Lets hope he's ready... Saturday I was all loopy from the tanning and the swimming and the napping and was in my hang-out-in-almost-nothing-because-its-DAYM-hot-in-the-house clothes and NO makeup; today I am shaved up to the landing strip, glowing golden with bronzer and mascara highlighting all the right spots, and all hyped up on thoughts of cock =)=)
All Mighty help him keep his strength if he lets me in his sights this weekend.

::breath, wheez, cough, sigh::

I haven't forgotten the blog.
I haven't been avoiding the blog.
I haven't been avoiding commenting on your blogs.
Its just such a pain to have 12 hours of work to do in an 8 hour day EVERY DAY.

I am writing you now from the middle of one of these such days to let you know that Wednesday of this week until after the holiday next week, my part time backup will be on vacation.
Since the topic of getting me a replacement phone answerer for the week was smacked down harder than the cat from the leftover tri tip, I'm guessing this week will include a lot of overtime and not too much social time.
However, I will brag that the weather in my neighborhood was delightful this weekend and I was able to get some housework done. This included lounging about until Aunt Flo was done forcing me to eat Oreos and drink beer and pop pills, dipping into the pool at dusk just for a better view of the twilight stars, and cleaning my room to the point of rearranging furniture to get the job done right. So, while my ass is firmly planted in front of a computer from 7:30am-6pm all week, I MIGHT be able to pull out the milk crate with a pillow topper in front of my new computer setup and let forth the spew of blogworthy happenings in the last MONTH since I've gotten to the site!!

The quick overview (because its 10 minutes until lunch, and lets face it, I won't get any work done in that time anyway):
--Dad gave me a wad of cash for having a phone conversation with him, I dreaded the bad karma that is always attached to his money, I deposit it the same day my sister calls saying one of her credit card companies will 1/2 her debt if she pays it off by July 1st, and I gladly transfer dads money to her account to take advantage of the deal. I figure they don't call it 'money laundering' for nothing, and maybe the karma will wash off in the transfer and won't stick through the slow dribble as it gets back to me.
--The sister roomies are in Vegas this week. This means that I get to worry about dogs puking and peeing in the house while I'm gone for 12 hours or more a day (haven't decided if I'll be going to the gym this week - running around the backyard like a freak with the dogs and rearranging furniture and closet space sounds WAY more fun!!).
--I'm getting props at work. While the kudos are nice, I know how much work I have to do and how I'm not getting it done and its driving me NUTS that I have to switch hats/roles so many times a day but apparently the trick is to keep a smile on and always be ready to say "I'll get right on that" and they think I'm a goddess. They are also familiar enough to me now, and the work is repetative enough to have learned it well enough, that Miss Sassy is getting some play again - they haven't decided if they like her yet or not, but the meek worker in the corner is now piping up and getting the respect she deserves. Miss Sassy likes the Managerial hat!!!! Matches the come-fuck-me-in-my-corporate-suit heels I wear everyday.
--My Mojo is coming around. I partook in a wedding a few weeks back and the single, barely older brother of the bride walked me out and spent about 30 minutes working his game before I let him know he could ask for my number any time now because the cruise was going to depart with me onboard and I wouldn't mind hiding out in his room but I'm sure his roomie would object to us having all the fun. Since I was the one with the cell on me, I got his home number. He lives 500 miles away, but getting concentrated flirts from a 28 year old who didn't have to wear a helmet was certainly a great reason to take a paid day off!!!
Oh, and the wedding was beautiful and I got to see basically all of my girlfriends from my hometown and get them all dolled up for pictures =)

Its lunch time, but there you have the last three and a half weeks of highlights that come to mind as I frantically minimize the screen whenever I hear someone walk by... OH... just kidding, I have one more thing... I heard through the grapevine that New Girl is no longer working in my old office and my old manager has to train ANOTHER someone to fill the receptionist position!!! I feel AWFUL for that office always having to train someone, but the whispered "come back!" was laughed at heartily that I would give up this great carreer opportunity just to hang with the gang and have an easy job again =) I'm getting the swing here, I am gaining TONS of experience, and am proud to announce what I do for a living and I'm supposed to be tempted by returning to being a triple layered subordinant just to have more people to chat up at the water cooler?? While the familiarity is tempting, I realized this weekend (when I found an old journal and the very telling entries) that going back for what the hindsight goggles have convinced you is a dream situation just ISN'T WORTH IT.

Yeah, I guess thats all I got for this minute.
Happy Monday Ya'll, leave a comment so I know all 52 of you who are still checking in got the updates, alright!?? =)=)

Cresent Moon

I was told by a friend that maybe it was the cresent moon that could be blamed for all the rediculousness abounding.
Whatever it is, it feels a lot like the cosmic jokes are adding a bit of satire or cynicism or prankster to the normal repetua (or however the fuck you spell that word).

Case in point:
1) I have a timeline for how my week, day, and hour should go for the new job. When I walk in I have certain things to get done. Every week certain things need to get done with varying priority (read:they can be moved and postponed when higher profile/more pressing issues come around). Every morning and every lunch time I make a list of things to get done.
To have the same things roll over PISSES.ME.OFF. This is the same part of the brain that threw a fit when I had to leave stuff in my inbox. I have created a folder of stuff that needs attention ASAP and I have stuff in there from yesterday.
The joke: I am having absolutely no spaz response to the stress, workload, emergencies, building stack of pressing matters, or the fact that some of the stuff I wanted to get done Tuesday is still waiting for the high priority stuff to get done.
On the one hand I am freaking out that I'm not freaking out.
On the other - I found a sushi place around the corner that BBQs their beef in onions and mushrooms and leaves the teriaki for the chicken. YUM. And if I so desire for a dinner to go box, they can add a Sapporo to the order. YEAH!!!

2) After the WTF with the roomie in the bathroom this week (did I tell ya'll about that?? "how many peoples shit do I have to scrub from my toilet now?" falling out of my mouth 14 seconds after waking up?? I forgot - anyway, I FREAKED about my territory being taken over by one of the DownStairs Girls and TRIED MY DAMNEDEST not to beat someone with freshly applied mascara), I have Squeeky all up in my How Can You Think This Is A Way To Function nerve center.
I come home to find both sides of the sink full and both sides of the counter taking over the overflow. Stuff with milk rotting in the bottom. A greasy pan that was left to soak now has grease covered silverware and plates and cup bottoms to leave its slimy mark on. Glasses under three full sized plates. UNREAL to me.
Then I see that the dishwasher has the CLEAN magnet on it. OK. They are using the magnets. After 4 months, we can read the sign before acting. But HELLO!!!!! We can't use the sink!!!! Whoever runs the machine should understand they can empty it by now.
I open the door to find the top shelf with 8 of the possible 20 spots filled. The bottom has 3 big peices and 4 plates. Apparently someone just didn't want to put soap on the rag when they rinsed and ran the energy sucking, water wasting, heat producing, noisy fuckin lazy mans pretentious machine when they cooked.
So, in my gym clothes, mostly dry from sweat by now, and leaving my shoes on for the productivity of it all, I clean the kitchen. It takes me THREE MINUTES to unload the dishwasher, INCLUDING rearranging the shelves to make these few items fit. Somehow matching nesting bowls is WAY too fucking complicated for these folks and each bowl needs to be sitting in its own place in our tiny overstuffed cupboards.
I am thinking the entire time that I will put my hand on something I used, but HELL NO. I am putting away a stack of dishes I didn't use.
If we didn't just, two weeks ago, have the "well if everyone does their own dishes, there won't be a problem" talk...
B R E A T H I N G. I resolve that I will not get icked out and turn the water to scalding and start rinsing the crap off the sides of the stuff in the sink to load the dishwasher.
Thats right. I could have put soap on the rag and washed them as I put them in... but I was struck again with the fucking HILARIOUS joke that I am doing dishes for a house I haven't been in enough to dirty even a fork in - TWO WEEKS after we agreed that this BULLSHIT shouldn't be happening to anyone.
I get the diswasher loaded.
I am scrubbing the grease and lettuce and smears of I don't know what off the inside of the sink when I hear Squeeky's door open. She squeezes her bony ass between me and the cupboard fora a glass. She walks to the other side of me, ALL up in my space, and reaches her glass over my arm. She, in a finally normal speaking voice, says "I'm just gonna grab a glass of water here."
I stand perfectly still, look at her hand in amazed disbelief, and mutter "its kinda hot."
She proceeds to lean in further to up the chilled side and down the hot side and eeks out "sorry, this is totally in the way of like the cleaning you are doing ::snorty sigh:: sorry, I'm just gonna, yeah, ok, almost done here. OK, and I'll put the hot water back on for you here, OK, I'm done."


Two examples of the FEROCIOUS temper that may or may not be working itself into my daily grind. I can't get a DAMNED thing done all day, and come home to complete ANYTHING, no matter how much I hate it on principle (THIS is how much I can't stand a filthy kitchen people!!!), I can't even get THAT done without being interupted by RETARDEDNESS!!!
Its TAP WATER you fucking inconsiderate selfish single track minded freak!! Use the bathroom if someone is cleaning your mess for you and the 37 seconds it might take for them to finish is TOO MUCH for your parched saggn flatttttttt ass!!!!!

Laurie at Beauty and the Beer said she was missing some of her Shank Tuesday Mojo.
I am thinking, if this Cresent Moon/Should only be Aunt Flo to make this much of a bitch out of me/Cosmic Jokester turning Punk Ass on me/where the fuck is this heat wave coming from if I was fogged in at work for the last 3 hours BULLSHIT of a shitty attitude keeps up, she can consult me for material ;)

To put it sucsinctly: I am in such a weird funky out of touch cranky surreal shell of reality mood lately that I flat out turned down a booty call this week.
Logically I am creating standards for myself.
Realistically I was sure I'd be disappointed and didn't think it was worth changing a razor blade for.

TGIF folks... If I had more than 8 more hours of this crap thrown my way before I could duck from in it a drunken haze, well, I might start phasing the bar up the street into my weekly schedule. I'm just say'n.