Emotionally Verclempt - Updated
Thanks for your concern.
I've mentioned before, however vaguely, my particular brand of night terrors. They've been coming more frequently lately, which leads me to believe something needs to change. But the what, and the how, escapes me.
Someone made a comment to me on Friday that upset me. I think the reason I got upset was because I didn't like the truth in what he said, and it got me thinking. I think - I know - I've reverted back into some old habits of mine. These habits aren't of the crack-fiend, prostitution kind, but they are detrimental to me.
I debated taking my blog offline, but that seemed a bit drastic, for I know well that in the light of day, the night terrors seem like a distant memory.
Instead, I'll take some time off. This next week, I'll cut back on posting, to give myself time to recoup, regroup, and basically think. And of course, the following two weeks after that, I'll be in Italy, where I don't expect to be blogging much at all.
I'm sure I'll return in November, gushing with all things Italian and desperate to share my trip with you.
Be well, folks, and play nice with each other.
Mini Cacti & Their Plight
I have three mini cacti on my desk. They're pretty ordinary cacti. Someone moved them from my actual desk to the desk ledge - you know, the little wall a foot about the desk that gives me 'privacy' from the guy sitting in front of me.
However, those poor little cacti have taken a beating. They've been knocked down twice that I'm aware of; I would move them back down to my desk, but stupid people sit on my desk and knock them over. Also it's so very dry in here, that I've literally been watering them weekly, and it doesn't seem to do any good.
I just took a close look at them, and the prettiest of the bunch is having problems. It's a nice thick green stem with a pink bulb 'flower' on top. The flower has little spikeys on it. It's kinda cool. Yet, when I picked it up, I noticed it has a brown spot on one side of the bulb. Much like a brown spot on an apple - it's all squishy and soft and gross. And, there was a baby bulb growing from one side of the bulb, that was also all brown and squishy and gross. I plucked that one off.
What I'm dying to do is cut away the bad spot on the big bulb. I have scissors; I could just cut away and inside the bulb until I've cut out the brown spot. I know, I should leave well enough alone, but it really isn't well. And it's really bothering me.
As for the other two...well, I don't know. I know that while I'm on vacation, no one will take care of them, and they'll most likely die like my ivy did during last year's vacation, and that makes me sad.
Yeah, that's a whole lotta worthless thinking for some stupid mini cacti.
WTF?
Yes, that's right. My Friday morning post is titled "What the Fuck?" As in, what the fuck am I doing blogging at 5am?
I'll tell you.
I've had a stressful week at work. I was there for 11 hours yesterday, which may not be bad by, say, New York standards, for for me, that blows. And every day this week has been like that. Not to mention, I've been running behind schedule
every single morning this week. I hate mornings, and I don't do them well, and running late - which I HATE to be - doesn't help the stress. I just haven't been able to get up on time. Gotta quit the nightly cyber sex with hoodrats, I guess.
Anyway. I woke up about 4:45 with the realization that I was as wide awake as I could ever be at that time (that one night in Vegas not withstanding). In my infinite wisdom, I'm planning to be at work by 6am, thus giving me time to put in a very full day and still allowing me to leave early enough to meet the folks for drinks afterwards.
Of course, the chatter of the keyboard and the blinding brightness of the monitor are lulling me back into a coma. And is that - do I hear - yep, my bed is calling my name.
Full day before drinks be damned.
Rants & More!
Yeah, I got nothing of my own today, so here's some things that have amused me. Thanks to
News of the Weird for the info. I'm sure I'll update many times today.
Does this remind you of anyone you know?
Austin Gullette, 45, was arrested on Aug. 31 in West Monroe, La., after his sister caught him allegedly having sex with one of her three pigs. Two days later about 100 miles away in Florien, La., Timothy Garner, 35, was arrested after being spotted inside a henhouse, allegedly having sex with a chicken. (A sheriff's official in the West Monroe case said he had never before, in his 29-year career, seen a case of a man having sex with a pig, but then he added, to a Monroe News Star reporter, that of course there were cases involving men with "dogs, donkeys and sheep.")
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I'm so sick of all this hype about 'He's Just Not That Into You.' What crap. Sure, like most girls, I've been known to obsess about a guy a time or two (One of the still existing jokes between me & college gf is about the time when, walking with my two roomies, and seeing THE MAN, the BMOC who I'd been crushing on for years. He threw me a wink, and for days after you could hear me muttering "He winked at me!"
He winked at me! He winked at
me!) , but I'm (mostly) done with that now. If a guy likes me, he better be mature enough to let me know. I mean, come on - I'm 27. Any guy I'm talking to better be around that age bracket, and know better than to play games. There's no note passing, no hang-up phone calls, no sending friends to check me out. If he can't get past that, then he can walk past me.
Maybe I should write a book titled 'It's Just Not Worth It'. Expose all the games that guys - yes, and GIRLS - play - and let folks know that a true catch won't engage in that shit.
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The (British) People Have Spoken!
Bush voted best movie villain!
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Yeah, I changed the title. I'm really in more of a ranting mood than a rambling one. I just have ZERO patience for stupidity and LAZINESS and it is running rampant over here! I may need to go downstairs and have a smoke, something I rarely do at work. Sorry to disappoint, Bean - but cigs win by default.
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Relief! I just took my nylons off and threw 'em out! They had a run down one side - not very noticeable, but the inside thigh had holes! Lots of them! And they're new nylons! So now my white legs are on show for anyone who has the gall to still be here. That will teach them!
Breakfast of Champions
One mentholated cigarette
24 ounces of caffeine
Wheaties be damned!!!!
Hi there
My announcement about my job transfer came out today (finally!) My official transfer date is 12/6, which is actually much better than I had expected. Add in the fact that I'm gone for 2 wks in November, and Thanksgiving will count as another week...the time will fly. I received lots of congrats from folks, and some (smart!) people have even told me that I'll be missed and/or the area will now be hurting. To that, I shrug. :)
I was very busy at work today and I know that trend will continue through the week. I'm backing up two other projects - both HUGE ones - and though I asked the folks at least 10 separate times to make sure x and y was done, they didn't do them, so now I'm stuck cleaning up their messes. I really don't like irresponsible people. When I go on leave or vacation, I'm always worried that I haven't done enough for my backups, but damn do I try. Eh, fuck 'em.
7th Heaven blows. I was so angry at the episode where Simon had sex. They acted like he made a fatal mistake. Why couldn't they just say, "Look. You made a decision we don't agree with, and here's why." Instead, they condemned him to a life of shame. Sex is a fact of life, people. Get over it. He's, like, 18.
I haven't made much progress as far as my Italy trip goes. Not that I want to make many plans now, but I would like to confirm lodgings for my first and last few days. Eh, I'll get that done. Eventually. :)
Anyone see the footage of the figure skater who got dropped on her head? I like to think that I'm pretty tough - not the squeamish type - but
ow. Her partner was spinning as he held her above his head; you can see him stumble and she got d-r-o-p-p-e-d. Not quite from the height of above his head, but damn close. Yeow. Reason #1923 why couch potatoes have the right idea.
I've Never...
...come on, you know that game. One person says, "I've never...fucked a dog" and then anyone who
has fucked a dog (and is willing to admit it) has to take a drink. I like this game, more so than Truth or Dare, cuz I can never think of good dares. It's fun to find out what people have done that you'd never think they had.
I've done a lot of things that surprise me. Alcohol may or may not have had a part in many of those. :) And looking back, some of the things I've done were - as we say here - stoopid! Roller blading around my neighborhood at 1am; crossing the Mexican border while on Spring Break with 1 girl I knew and 5 guys I didn't know; making out with a friend's boyfriend's cousin in a crowded hottub at said friend's party; stealing wine coolers from my folks' garage; trying to ski for the first time at 25; getting my eyebrow pierced.
Some of the things I've done absolutely crack me up now. Like the time, also on Spring Break, where my gf and I
ran across a field because we were afraid there were alligators lurking there, and we had no other way across. My first time at a bar, after which I woke up the next morning with a bruised ear and a missing earring, and no recollection of the spill I took on the gravel parking lot. The time I was so drunk that I got lost walking around my college town's downtown - as a senior. Getting pulled over by the cops for driving at night with only my parking lights on. I actually hadn't been drinking that time, and had no plans to, but getting pulled over freaked me out enough that I went straight to the bar.
I like to think that I'm too old and wise to do stupid things like that now. But I know the truth. :)
Latent Rant
When I was in the hospital this summer, I was put in a double-room that was currently empty. I was in the bed by the window. I didn't sleep well that first night; 15 minutes asleep followed by 30 minutes awake. Nurses were coming in fairly frequently to check my vitals, offer water, etc. I slept with a magazine on my chest and the light above my bed on. It was just too difficult to stretch to shut it off, and I was reading some every hour anyway.
I woke up at midnight when someone else was put in my room. Though the curtain was drawn around my bed, I could hear her quite clearly. She was there because she thought she had a stroke. She asked the nurses for something to eat; she called many people to let them know her whereabouts.
I wasn't leaving my bed at that time (a catheter can truly be a beautiful thing). I woke up again at 6am, feeling wide awake. You know how that is - there's nothing you'd rather do than sleep, but you also know there's nothing you'll be able to do less of. I read for a bit; then bit the bullet and turned on my TV. I turned it on as low as I could tolerate, which is actually fairly quiet.
Around 8am, I woke up again to hear my new roommate on the phone. Talking. About
me!!!!! "I was so quiet when I got in last night. And my roommate turned the TV on this morning - early! And she had the light on all night. I couldn't believe how rude she was. (Pause) No, she's, like, 27! I dunno, I think she had surgery or something. I'm so tired of always being polite and having everyone else be so inconsiderate."
I was shocked silent. I didn't want to make it known that I was overhearing - is that really eavesdropping in this situation? But I was pissed! And annoyed! Our room was
directly across from the nurse's station - she couldn't have asked for the light to be shut off? What about her midnight phone calls and entry?
So, in my typical fashion, I seethed quietly. When I was able to leave my bed, I struggled as quietly as I could past her side of the room. I was so tempted to call her out - she had
no idea what I was in there for, shouldn't a little sympathy been in order?
But, as you can tell, I said nothing to her. I complained - quietly - to my mom when she got there. I slept quite well my second night in the hospital - roommate was gone by then, and I kept the light on the entire night with no guilt.
But I'm still pissed about it. Fucker.
You want an 8" scar on your belly and a 2day stay in the hospital? Bitch about that, cunt.
I am SO not drunk
Honestly. There's only one of you out there who knows how much beer I had tonight, and it sure as hell ain't me.
So, I took down my BIL post cuz I didn't like people ragging on him, saying that he was full of himself. I firmly people that it's your right to say whatever you choose, but I also firmly believe that it's my right to post - or not post - whatever I choose.
So, yeah, I said turnipbreathheads before. I don't know what that means or where that came from. I have been SO frustrated with work people lately. And it's stupid, cuz all I need to do is do the kickass job I always do and mind my own fucking business, but...
My $4.99 roses are still alive. Some of them. Some of them never opened, but what the hell do you expect for $4.99? I'll just wait until January when a beary good friend buys me flowers. HAHAHA!
This one time, when I was in high school, I was hanging out with these seniors when I was a junior, and they were smoking pot, and this was before I started, and I was driving a friend's car without having a license, cuz she was too drunk to drive, and the girl whose car I was following pulled over and got out and yelled at me. She said I was driving too slowly and that she had pot down her bra and did I want to get us busted? She was scary.
Here's something that makes me giggle: My annoying married couple 'friends' from college who live near me are having their baby shower the day after I leave for Italy. Damn! Such a shame! I'll really miss hearing the talk about how the earth revolves around them! Fuckers! I am not your friend anymore, so quit contacting me! I hate you! You're selfish and rude and status-grubbing and fake and I pity your unborn child! I'm naked right now. I love being naked! Nekkid! Nakie! I would run naked through the sprinkler if it were warm enough. And if there were a sprinkler. I like sleeping naked. I 'dated' a guy once who thought that was disgusting. Something about body juice on the sheets. But that's half the fun. My head hurts. Op, no it doesn't. I would eat Lucky Charms now if I had any. Bunsen, share. Do it now. Comply.
Rant
Godfuckingdamnitpieceofshitfuckersshitheadfuckupsarrogantassholes.
Shitheads.
Fuckups.
Turnipbreathheads.
My Night Out & Garfing
Garfing and its various forms (to garf; garfed; garfer) were heard at dinner tonight. Dinner was
not at Mykonos, the Greek restaurant I've been meaning to try, because as I walked from the car to the door and looked in the window, I realized that my sweats just wouldn't cut it. Though the place was fairly empty, it looked sheshe (quit laughing - how do YOU write it?) and the clientele looked upscale. So, I walked back to the car and went to the Omega Pancake House & Bakery instead. (Omega - that's Greek, right? It counts.) The place was like a more upscale Denny's with better baked goods. I people-watched and smoked as I waited for dinner. A group of 5 guys came in and sat by me. Best I could tell from the subtle eavesdropping I did, garfing meant masturbating into a beer bottle. Some girl apparently drank some. One guy was telling the tale, and the others were laughing. Not uproariously so as to be obnoxious, but laughing really hard. They were having a good time. But I couldn't get a handle on them. There was talk of a priest, but these guys didn't look religious, if I may be so stereotypical. Hell, it's my blog, I'll be whatever the fuck I wanna be. The conversation then turned to 'bad' people. You're misguided if you believe Hitler; you're a bad person if you
are Hitler. I swear that's what they said. Now, these guys were tough looking - goatees, earring, denim jackets on one, leather jacket and shaved head on another...but they were talking about priests, and masturbation, and communion, and how fucked in the head Hitler was. I like paradoxes like that. I am one, often.
Rip Van Winkle
I stayed up til midnight last night. I know, whoop-de-frickin-do. It's not like I was at work til 1am, or something equally disgusting. And it's not like I was doing anything productive, like exercising. Although I
was breathing rather hard. And I'd be willing to bet that my cheeks were flushed. Ah, but I digress.
What I'm trying to say is that there's no good reason why I should have slept through the pounding of men in a goddamn cherry picker, hammering the roof right above my wee living room. I love being in the penthouse - from my fourth floor windows, I can see clearly into the parking lot of the complex next door. Can't shake a stick at that, my friends. But life at the top does have its drawbacks at times.
As it is, I did sleep through the cherry picker men and their gavels. Thank god Alan, or Adam, or AnnoyingMan from National Magazine Company called to wake me up. I really shoulda thanked him, rather than mumbling 'no thanks' at him and hanging up.
Don't Crush Me! - Updated -
So, it's an interesting thing, this BlogVille. I keep harping on it, don't I? I just find it very strange how we all interact.
I mean, I know a Blogger who has a crush on another Blogger; and then I know another pair that fits into that; and then I know ANOTHER pair that fits that...How is it that we allow ourselves to crush on people we don't 'know?' Or is it that we do know each other, perhaps better than we might if we were all 'real-world' friends?
I gotta think on this. I'll write more later; work is actually calling now.
Updated
So, Gooch's comment got me thinking. Sure, a lot of us have published pictures for our fans to see, but is that really the attraction? A picture can only give a look (obviously) at a person - it can't tell us
about them. Who hasn't gone up to that dreamy guy/girl at the bar, only to find that they have trouble putting sentences together? I always say, when the lights are out, who cares how hot someone is?
What I want to know is who someone
is - what makes them laugh, how they treat others, how they feel about life and love.
That's what makes me crush on people; the physicality places a part, sure, but when you don't have that, you go more on what you do have. It's scary, though, when you do crush based on what you know when physicality is not even a factor. I mean, a person could be exactly what one is looking for - as far as you know them, anyway - but then physically, it can change things. There has to be a chemistry, a possibility of attraction if attraction is not immediate. And it's a risk - what if he who I click with so well online holds no chemistry for me? Or vice-versa? Is all the camaraderie lost? That would be a shame.
And for all of you who wonder who's crushin' on whom (who's zoomin' who, da da...)...I'll say this much:
He likes her.
She likes
him. She, on the other hand, likes him and him and him. Then there's Him, who I think likes her. Or maybe he's just a flirt. Oh, and let's not forget
him, who likes
her, or at least
he used to.
That clear things up? ;)
Ain't Too Proud
I bought myself a dozen multi-colored roses tonight. Why? They were on sale. And I love flowers. And if I don't buy them for myself, then I won't get any for a loooong time.
I'm not ashamed.
Okay, so it wasn't the picture's fault, but I'm too lazy to add it back. Maybe one of these days a more recent one will show up. Picture has been removed. It was fuckin' up the rotation.
Another Joke. Still For You.
A blonde and a brunette are sitting at a bar. The blonde says, 'That guy over there looks pretty cute."
The brunette says, "Yeah, he's not bad, but he's got dandruff. He could use some Head & Shoulders."
The blonde says, "How do you give shoulders?"
No applause, just throw money. Or BOOBIES!
Boooooobies!
Jugs. Melons. Tits. Knockers. Hooters. Dinner.
I have boobages on the mind (as well as on the chest), since
Lovi,
Slotharoo,
Zelda, and goddess knows who else have mentioned breasteses on their blogs today.
A Joke. For You.
Q: What animal can jump higher than a building?
No peeking!
Give up?
Come on, think a LITTLE harder!
Okay, are you ready?
A: All animals. Buildings can't jump.
Blech
I went out after work last night. I had 3 beers at the bowling alley (within 2 hours). I went to dinner - there's a bar that has, Monday through Thursday, 4-8pm,
any menu item for $3.99. Sa-weet! I had another beer with dinner.
I got home at 9pm. I watched ER and sat online for an hour.
Went to bed at 10.
Woke up this morning at 9am.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! When did I get too old for this shit?
I'm lucky in that I don't have a 'set' time I need to be at work in the morning (unless there are meetings), but 9am is generally pushing it. I didn't shower today (ewwwww, yeah, I know), for in my bleary morning panic I didn't think I'd have time to. Lately I've been battling with my clothes every morning and I had no reason to think today would be any different. Plus, it was raining out, and I really didn't want to leave with wet hair that would have no chance to dry.
So I got here at 9:30. (I live DAMN close to work). And that's my story.
Abuse of the English Language
From an actual email received from my boss's boss:
"In addition, since the room is was actually secure for the BRIO and General Bulletin PCs that individuals that need to use these machines may move freely in and out of the room during a time you have it booked for a meeting."
Uh...what? You could understand me better if I spoke with a mouth full of marbles. Just because you're the boss, it doesn't mean you shouldn't proofread your emails. And for pete's sake - if
you don't, hire an administrative assistant who will!
(Add this to the page of 'Hard to be Perfect - A Day in My Life')
BlogVille: Strangers Only Apply
Our little BlogVille is a strange place. The dynamics are very interesting to me - how is it that I don't 'know' any of you, have never met you and will never meet (some, or most, or even any of) you, but yet I worry about you? I'm concerned about you. I share things with you.
When I learn that one of you is having health problems, I worry. When I learn that one of you is proud of your kids, I'm glad. When I learn that one of you is traveling, I hope for your safe return. When you don't post for a while, I worry that all may not be well - and I miss you. Your tests, your pets, your parents...I have random glimpses into all of your lives, but I only know what you choose to share, and vice versa.
Some of you, I've gotten to know better than others. Some of you I only IM, some I only email, and a rare few I've even spoken to on the phone. Some people I feel more comfortable with than others: no real reasoning behind it, just something that makes me feel a friendship - a real-world friendship - would be more functionable with you.
Those whom I've gotten to know a bit outside BlogVille know things about me that those in the Real World who know me, don't even know. I trust you more because I don't know you; I'm more open with you, because if you disapprove, I haven't lost anything. I've worked hard to keep my blog a secret from those I actually do know; I wouldn't be comfortable having them know the things I share here. I've been tempted to try integrating the two worlds, but I always shy away in the end.
Who I am here is a part of who I am out 'there,' and the converse is true. I can't - or don't - always reconcile the two halves of me, and I don't always want to.
One thing I've learned from those of you whose contact extends outside of this blog is that I'm not alone. Some of you struggle with the same things I do; some of you put words to my inner thoughts. Though I don't wish others the mire I surround myself with, it's nice to know that others have the same thoughts, hopes, doubts. It's nice to not be alone.
I'm crushing on some of you. I'd like to meet all of you. I don't know how long our little circle of friends will remain, but I'm enjoying it while it lasts.
Thoughts on Alone Activities
No, this isn't a blog about masturbation (sorry, folks). Since I posted the news about my trip to Italy, I've heard from a couple of you about your feelings on traveling alone. I've seen this as a conversation topic in other blogs, and thought I'd add my perspective.
I don't think I'm brave or special or tough for traveling alone. Part of me thinks of it as desperate; part of me thinks of it as resigned. And it can definitely be scary. Okay, so maybe a small part of me thinks of it as adventurous. But when it comes right down to it...I do it because if I didn't, I wouldn't do much of anything.
As you know, if you've read me at all, I don't have an active social life where I live. The folks who do live by me, that I enjoy, are a) few and far between, b) interested in different things than me (I?), c) not close enough distance-wise to warrant a random dinner/movie/night out. So, either I do these things alone, or I wonder what it's like to see Limp Bizkit & Eminem in concert, and what the the sunsets in Mykonos look like, and whether 'The Notebook' as a movie is as good as the book.
Some activities are best shared. And as good as seeing those Grecian sunsets was, it
could have been just that much better if I had had someone - a boyfriend, a girlfriend, a family member - with me to share those same experiences. The flip side, however, is that if you're with the wrong person, the experience loses some of its magic.
So, I 'choose' to see the sights, cities and movies by myself, rather than risk not seeing them, or seeing them with someone who will detract from my experience. It's far from the ideal, but it works for me. Mainly because it has to.
Oops, I Did it Again
I'm not quite sure how it happens. Or more to the point,
why it happens. I just know that it happens. Often.
Yep. I bought tickets. To Italy. Two weeks in Italy. I'm a little nervous and a whole lot excited. I know a bit of what to expect, having travelled solo before. I know that there will be moments of panic; that I'll get lonely towards the end of the trip; that I'll feel dirty and long for my own shower and clean clothes. That I'll probably feel a bit sad that I'm travelling alone.
I know that I'll love the people-watching and the feeling of freedom. That I'll love the ability to set my own schedule. I'll love the sense of pride in myself that I'll have, and how every little demon that haunts me will either seem so far away or so insignificant as to not matter.
November 2nd, baby. Now I just gotta find a couple places to stay.
Minis
The only line I caught on Mad TV last night - "You're so gay you crap rainbow colored gerbils." HA!!!
I cleaned my apt like a banshee today. Yay! Then I ran to Target and spent money on shit I don't need (Swiffer WetJet, anyone? More vanilla scented candles? Cosmo?). Okay, so Cosmo was needed, for I then took a bubble bath and relaxed and read. I'm smelling good and clean and I will have clean sheets on my bed tonight and begin the new week with a bang.
I'm still dilly-dallying on my Italy trip. I want to go, but I also don't want to go. I probably will go, because, really, do I have any reasons for not going? I don't really have any reasons for going, either, but that's beside the point.
I'm having dinner tomorrow with a co-worker. When we first started working together, I liked her lots. But now that I've gotten to know her better and I've worked with her more...I'm not so enamored. I don't respect her as much, now that I know her better. Not on a personal basis, just on a working basis. But that makes it hard for me to like her on a personal basis. Do you follow? Is that wrong? I'm trying not to be judgemental - she doesn't have the same work ethic that I have, which always makes it hard for me to like someone. I don't know how to slowly back out of the friendship, though my new position might help, as we will no longer be working together.
Sigh. It's hard to be as perfect as I am.
My Best Friend
I just got off the phone with my best friend. We had, like, a 4 hour conversation. She lives in Virginia with her shit-tay boyfriend. I live in Illinois with my demons. I miss her and she misses me. We sat on the phone for a loooong time tonight and drank and smoked. I think this is Beer #5. I also ate part of a frozen pizza. It wasn't reaqlly frozen though, just cold. Friged. Not frigid. I've never been accused of that. She had a coupla beers and then some Red Bull/Vodka drinks, which sounds nasty. Her name is Sarah Elizabeth D------. She's very very book smart. And sometimes not so common sense smart. She looks like Shirley Temple or a doll. Which makes it very very amusing when she opens that mouth of hers and lets loose with a smart-ass, out-of-the-blue analogy or some such anecdote. She's hilarious. I love her. She knows this. We talked about politics and work and people we know and beer and food and her bf's family and my parents and her parents and the booty call that didn't pan out last Friday night and abortion and smoking and upcoming trips for both of us and our upcoming visit over Christmas and gambling and our bosses and my tendency to drop cooked frozen pizzas on the floor and the house her bf is having built and our thoughts on having kids and our thoughts on what our parents have done for us and and and...I'm sure there was more but I can't remember. I think she's beautiful. She says she's gained some weight, which she may have, but she has a tendency at times to be too skinny. I think she has this awesome porcelain skin and full breasts and curly hair and this innocent look which is just that - a look only. I tend to get protective of her - I've the common-sense one of the two of us, and I'm the one who sets our travel plans when we go places. I drive, cuz I'm the defensive driver of us two, and the one with the sense of direction. I'm the one who's traveled on my own and lived on my own. She amused me in college by 'following' me - as I'm a yr older, I set my majors first; joined the sorority first; switched dorms first. She did all that in my footsteps: English, then Communication, then Chi Omega, then New Hall. But she always did it better - much smarter than I, much more determined, much more dedicated. She didn't fool around much - had the steady bfs, while I got drunk and fooled around with whomever. Within reason. Sorta. I'm in awe of her at times, and I hurt for her at times. I understand, sometimes, how a parent must feel, for I want nothing but the best for her, and I do everything I can to help her. She is incredible. We are a part of each other's families, and though we don't always agree, and have had some disagreements in the past, I love her intensely. She 'gets' me like few others, and I love her for that.
They're Back
It's funny, there's never any predicting what will incite them to visit. It could be a tv show, or a dream, or the sight of someone random stranger who looks happy. And there's never any telling what will make them leave again, either. It doesn't really matter, though, and they know this. It doesn't matter how long or short their stay is, for we all know they'll always be back, and that's the shitty part of it all. If it were a one-time, a rare-time thing, that would be easier to handle. But it's not, and it won't be, and though sometimes the time between visits grows long, that just gives a false facade, a false security. Allows one to think that maybe they've gone away for good this time; maybe they've found someone else to haunt. But they always find their way back. Fuckers.
CNN & My Parents
Paula Zahn is right now hosting a live show from my parents' city.
Ma & Pa are in the audience and rumor has it Dad asked a good, if long-winded, question.
I love my folks.
Verbatim & Partials
Bill, do you have a second?
Sure Katey, what's up?
I wanted to tell you, before you found out from anyone else, that I've accepted the job in Specialty lines.
Wow. I'm surprised. Wow. If you wanted to work on something less visible and of lower priority, we could have given you that here. ... Well, don't expect to transition right away. You have a Your Choice project that is higher profile than anything in Specialty.
Dick. Please join me in giving my current boss a BEATDOWN of the highest degree.
So, yes, unless current management balks at the 2-wk PTO notice I sent out, I will be adjourning in Italy later this year.
On other notes...the casino blew tonight. Not that I didn't expect it would, but come on - at least play along with me, will ya?
I hate fall because I get all itchy. Well, some of it is the eczema that won't die. Maybe because I don't use my steroid cream as often as I should. But dude, when I don't itch, I don't think of it. Anyway, I am itchy all over - on my way home tonight, I actually took a boobage out of my bra for better scratching. Did you know LeAnn Rimes has eczema? She's apparently promoting some website to help publicize it, or something. Give me a break. Eczema is not (as far as I know) a life-threatening condition. Can't she support a better cause than that? I mean, there are starving Somalians, folks!
Oh yes, one more thing. We (my division) have a meeting (yes, it's called a division meeting) with our VP and P of our - no, not division - our
department. Today, in my team meeting, we were given questions that the muckety-mucks might as of us. And then we were 'coached' on how to respond.
No, not what answers to give, but more of what not to say. How not to embarrass ourselves (i.e., how not to embarrass our leadership). How not to give the mucketys - who have no idea who many of us are individually, of course - the impression that we're all schmucks. Someone 'jokingly' mentioned the word 'censorship' and of course, that threw the bosses into a tizzy. No no no, not censorship, just guidance! Barf. SO glad I'm leaving this particular leadership.
Yay ME!
I took the job. Whoooo hoooo! Yeah baby! Atta girl! Way to go! (That's the sound of your encouragement.)
So, yes, I'm excited. I don't envy my new boss the conversations she'll have with my old/current bosses, but that's not my problem. I'm sure I'll be stuck here, in the old/current position, for a while longer.
But, that's okay, because if I
am stuck here for a while, then I'm going to use some of my vacation time to go to Italy in November. Why bother saving for a house/car when there are places to see?
Speaking of money...tonight is casino night. I don't go as often as I'd like - and that's no accident - but I'm looking forward to tonight. Good friend, and maybe I'll down a beer or two.
I am really glad that my parents spelled my name the way they did. Some non sequiter, eh? But seriously, how many Katies are there? I'm one of only three (I think) Kateys that I've ever known. And of course, I'm by far the most fabulous of them. ;)
HELP!
I've been offered a job that I think I want, but I'm just not sure. It's the same position I'm in now - at the same company - but in a different area.
I like the leadership better and think they do a better job of promoting/recognizing their people than my current leadership. But, I know what to expect from my current job and not so much from that area.
It might be a tiny bit more money upfront. But (from the interviewer's mouth) they'd 'help me get to the next level' of job status, which is a promotion.
I think it would lead to more options for career advancement. But I'm not for certain.
I don't know who I would be reporting to exactly - they're making an offer to someone today.
I don't know all the folks who would be my teammates, and I don't like all the ones I know. Well, okay, that's no different from where I am.
It's a smaller area, which could be good, because I could help shape it. But is it smaller in terms of opportunities and money and recognition?
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. What do I do? The job is mine if I want it. I told her I'd get back to her on Thursday. My current leadership isn't happy with me wanting to leave. The area I'd be going to is newer but apparently is the 'next big thing.' But that doesn't mean longevity. Although, no area means longevity.
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
Censorship
When I was younger, mom didn't like 0r approve of some of the books I would read. Namely, anything by VC Andrews and Stephen King. So I would hide them from her and read the sordid tales of incest and brutality and back-hills living in secret, under the covers, on the bus.
Mom didn't like the sickness contained in the books. She felt that if you read poison, you'll poison yourself. I can't remember her exact phrase, but it was something like 'If you put poison in, you'll get poison out,' or some such semi-religious phrase. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I've always read above my grade level - so when I was in 6th grade, I was reading books from the adult section of the library. Who knows all the reasons.
Anyway, to appease her, I read other things as well. You know - 'normal' teenage stories. Lots of Judy Blume, Ellen Conford, Francine Pascal (Sweet Valley High, dontcha know). Stories where the good girl gets the good guy and everything wraps up nice and neatly in the end, with all getting what they deserve. Nothing too terrible ever happens and if it does, it all ends well. The books where mom locks her kids in the attic was obviously - to me, anyway - the type of fiction that isn't based on real life. Sure, shit like that really does happen, but it's the exception rather than the rule. At least, that's how it seems to my white-bred, middle-class being. But the books about relationships and friendships and familial issues, THOSE, that's real life. That's what we all deal with. That's what we all identify with and take to heart and struggle with. I think mom tried to censor the wrong kind of books.
Ahhhhhh
Nothing like a 4-hr nap on a nice new red couch under a homemade afghan (the blanket, not the person, dummy).
This mini-post is in no way discouraging you from commenting on your - or my - boobages. All comments will be encouraged and read with glee.
Random Shorts
Know how in cartoons, whenever a dog is being walked, he's pulling on the leash and is way in front of the walker? That's how I feel about my boobs lately. They are ALWAYS in my peripheral vision these days. I don't even need to look down; they're just always there, poking out, leading the way. I'm by no means endowed like Dolly Parton (despite my sister's jeers - jealous bitch), but I ain't carrying two bug bites on my chest, either. Maybe they've been feeling neglected lately and are prompting me to give them attention. Who the fuck knows.
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So, I stop at Caribou Coffee tonight, wearing an
electees.com t shirt (Truce? I'll hug your elephant, and you can kiss my ass). The coffee girl said, "Oh, that's cute. I like shirts like that. I got one for $2 at Target. It says, 'On a scale of 1-10, you really suck.'"
What the fuck does that have in common with my shirt? Get a clue.
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By the way, electees.com has sold their 200th shirt. Thanks to all who have promoted and/or purchased!
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Thank goodness for office birthdays. What kind of Friday would it be if there weren't brownies and donuts for breakfast?
