Corporate Peon: December 2004


Friday, December 31, 2004

Blast from the Past

From 3rd grade all the way up through 9th grade, I had a good friend in a guy named Jeff. I'm not sure what the connection was, but we were always tight. He was like a slightly protective older brother to me, and I loved him dearly.

I remember my birthday gift from him in the 9th grade - the Mr. Big tape, wrapped and placed in my locker. Knowing me, that tape can still be found in my parent's house, a few moves - and a dozen years - later.

When I moved at the end of my freshman year, Jeff wrote me pretty consistently. I can recall his slanted, small penmenship; his bad spelling; his love for girls.

At some point, for reasons that escape me - perhaps time and distance truly do put what is out of sight, out of mind - we fell out of touch. I've thought of him often over the years, and wondered if he would be receptive to hearing from me. All I know is who he was; I have no idea who he is.

I searched for him online with no luck. I did, however, find his parent's address, though not an email as I was hoping. Early this week, I sent a holiday card to him, via his parents, and included my email address in the hopes that he would throw a line out there.

This morning, he did.

Wednesday, December 29, 2004

Eat Your Heart Out

I just made the easiest, and tastiest, dinner: coconut shrimp. I didn't catch the shrimp, but these ain't no frozen food, neither. I. Rock.
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I had an interesting email conversation today with a fellow blogger that really got me thinking. For reasons I don't quite understand, s/he was unwilling to enter into a relationship with me, someone s/he has never met and lives many many states away from. Boy, if that's not a blow to the ego... ;)

We both want to be in a (preferably healthy) relationship; we both bemoan (though perhaps to differing degrees) the absence of such a relationship from our lives; we're both smart, sexy people. So what's the catch?

We both have standards, and perhaps ideals, of what we're looking for in a mate. Are our standards too high? Or are they reasonable, but rare? Mark, my booty call from the other week, has - on paper - all the traits in a man I'm looking for, but there was no spark. Am I being greedy to hold out for that spark? Am I being foolish to not jump on an otherwise good match? Sparks do fade, after all - why expect it from the get-go?

If romance and sparks and lust fade, why look for it at all?

Somewhat relatedly, the time I spend being single often wears on me. My ego, self-confidence and self-esteem begin to feel beat down. Even if I'm not outwardly pursuing anyone specific, no one is pursuing me, either. I start to question myself - what am I not? What am I too much of? What should I change, in order for someone to love me?

I don't want to change (for those reasons). I don't want to feel that I can't find love being the person I am. I don't want to feel that I'm my own roadblock. Nonetheless...

I am simultanuously my own worst enemy and best friend.

*My questions are all rhetorical. I know no one has the answers; I wish it were that easy. Your thoughts, input, and comments are, of course, welcome.*

** And to my email pal, thanks for the inspiration. Best of luck in finding your ideal.**

Tuesday, December 28, 2004

I am Woman, Hear me Roar.

I was watching episodes of Real World/Road Rules challenge last night while I did Pilates and jogged in place. I don't understand why every show that pits guys against girls shows the girls as whiny, backstabbing, neurotic bitches. Where are the competent, confident, capable chicks? The guys don't backstab; they have fun - and WIN! The girls bitch and moan and repeat as desired, and LOSE. Their attitudes - and those of the whiny bitches on Apprentice - perpetuate the negative image of women.
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While in Madison the other weekend, I went to a great used book store and picked up a bunch of books on womens' studies. It's so interesting to me that an 8yr old girl can be confident, but by age 11, she's lost that. In 3rd grade, I was in the accelerated math class, and enjoying it. By 6th grade, I was struggling with math and hating it. Was the math too complicated for me to enjoy? Or did being in classes full of boys, who don't hesitate to speak out of turn or shout the answers, push my enjoyment and, relatedly, my abilities down?
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I was in what was called 'Academic Talent' classes, which was basically a class period each day that segrated the 'smart kids' from everyone else, and had us do special projects. I remember learning about dinosaurs in 2nd grade; the rainbow (ROYGBIV) in 3rd grade; the stock market in 5th; advertising in 6th, etc etc. Each 'lesson' or 'subject' was accompanied by a special project. For advertising, we created commercials, a portfolio, packaging, etc. I still have mine somewhere - MAJIK, for Marie-Anne-Jenna-something-Katey. We had a character, Super Pizza! who saved boring parties by bringing good pizza with him. Hey, give us a break - we were, like, 12.

I don't know what the other kids did while us smarty pants were in AT. Napped? Cleaned the erasers? Yeah, I felt a bit of pride for being in this class, although I'm not sure how they picked us, especially in the earliest years. How do you tell a 2nd grader is smarter than another? I'm sure that my early involvement was due in large part to my sister's enrollement before me. I know that when a kid joined AT, after years of not being in there, it was surprising: why are they smart now, when they weren't before?
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In my 10th or 11th grade English class, there was a guy, Brian, who had no qualms about asking questions if he didn't understand something. He was quick to answer when he did know the answer - or thought he did. He was in the 'popular' clique and got stellar grades. I, on the other hand, was more apt to ask my questions of the teacher in an aside, after class. I rarely answered, whether I knew the answer or not - and when I did speak up, it was mainly because the silence of nonresponse was deafening.

English has always been my favorite subject - I'm the kid who read the entire book of stories for fun, rather than only the assigned ones. I read them so far in advance that when they were assigned, I had forgotten them and had to re-read. So where did I change into the girl who was afraid to ask a question in class, lest it be a 'stupid' one? Who was the girl who didn't want to answer for fear that she'd be wrong? And where did this fear come from?

Did Brian not have this fear because he was already in the 'in' clique and knew he could suffer no social consequences? Did he not care? Was it something his parents taught him? Was it a guy thing?
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I'm still trying to find my way. Grad school has helped me a bit with that; I've been lucky to be in class with some truly helpful people who help me work through things and value my opinions.

A lot of times I don't see myself as particularly capable or intelligent. Sure, I do a good job, but let's me honest - a monkey could do this job. But actually, that's not true, because not everyone is good at this job. I AM. I'm good at it, and that's known, and I'm recognized for doing a good job. It's sometimes hard to remember that. I suppose that keeps me humble.
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I can't remember if I've written this before or not - but when I got an unofficial promotion a couple years ago, I spent the next couple days feeling really good about myself. Well, at least until I was pulled aside by BossMan to say I was acting a little uppity. Me, I was just proud of myself, and glad to have validation that I was doing a good job. I was crushed that people thought I was flaunting it.

So how does a female exude confidence without being cocky? Be smart without being offputting? Hold her own without dominating or excluding? And why shouldn't we be cocky and offputting and excluding? If others can't handle our competence and confidence, why should we change our bearings?
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Evil Deeds

That's me, your vulgar blogger, here to ignite and entertain and make you get off that ass and jump around. Jump up, jump up and jump down!
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Mom' s surgery went fine. Dad called and said they had problems intubating her, but all is well and she's in recovery.
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This ASSHOLE was going off on the phone before. I'm sorry, but if you don't tell me you have a question, I can't answer it for you. I'm not a fucking mind reader, you mutherfucker. You've had weeks to tell me if you have any questions. Now, the date is NOT in jeopardy because YOU sat on your ass and waited for my ESP to kick in!And then the fucker sends me an email later, saying his rage isn't directed at me, all my stuff is in order, etc. Goddamn right it is. Good thing I'm just backing this project up.
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I have another post in the works, but I'm still writing it. So this drivel will have to suffice until then.
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I mentioned before that dad gave each of us kids some money for Christmas. Very generous of him. But, it also concerns me. He gave us money last year too - a significant amount more than this year. I know he's had a tough time with the market this year.
(Dad, on Monday: Damn thing went down AGAIN! Dad, on Tuesday: It's up! If this holds, we'll be good! Dad, on Wednesday: Stupid fucking market!
Katey: Uh...dad...if it goes up, it's gonna go down...and if it's down, it will go up. But see, then it's gonna repeat that pattern. So, yeah, it's up one day, big fucking deal, cuz it will be down tomorrow.
Dad: Thanks a fucking lot!)
So I'm worried that they've lost a bit of money this past year. I worry that they won't be able to live for the next 2o years (knock wood) on what they have. Not that I would mind supporting them, I just don't know that I _could_, given my situation. I'd definitely have to stop buying shoes. :)
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Monday, December 27, 2004

If You Could See Me Now...

...Alcoholic drink? Check
...Cigarette? Check
...Junk food? Check

My best friend and I hung out last night. It was...a little disappointing. She's been out of my daily life, and I hers, for so long that it was almost hard catching up. But, we did indulge and giggle and shop and make fun of people, so that's cool. And I did try - and like - mango flavored Malibu rum, so that's cool too.

Some of you nosy fuckers have asked what I got for Christmas. Well, things that make me most excited are: an electric can opener (shut up! I wanted one!); a new sauce pot (I asked for that too, so shut up!); a pastry roll-out pad and a meat thermometer (SHUT UP! I asked for both of those!); Eminem's Encore CD; and a gift cert to a spa.

Dad made me a nice wood end table - painted black, as I wanted - with a glass top, which works perfectly in the intended space, and he has already received an order for a matching one for the other side. Sister gave me a kickass lamp, but I want a matching set, so...I've been scouring stores with no luck. The lamp may be returned.

And today, because I'm sometimes good to myself, I purchased four - yes, FOUR - new pairs of shoes, for a total of $72. One pair is red, one is pink, one purple, and black. I do love shoes. I also purchased for myself three pair of jeans, since I was really only wearing one pair these days, and I relized they had a hole in them.

I also purchased a few other various things. Like, shoes and earrings to wear with my dress for NY Eve. A cute tank top. And - what are they called? Oh, right - stockings. Not quite sure what those are for. ;)

Alright, so now my shopping is done and I should really figure out if I can afford all this stuff.

Nahhhhhhhhhhhh.

Saturday, December 25, 2004

The Christmas Caped Crusader

Enough of the gloom and doom! Happy holidays!

My mother, bless her, made their doggie a soft bed - with pillow - and a quilt to cover with. The quilt is ADORABLE - one side is all cats, and the other side is different squares with bones, words, and brightly colored prints.

The dog LOVES his new presents. He'll often get up and walk around the house with his quilt draped on him. I found it by the side of my bed yesterday morning, proof that he climbed down the stairs with it.

Man, do I wish I had a digicam to post a pic!

At any rate...hope you and yours are warm, cozy, and safe this season.

Thursday, December 23, 2004

Oh. My. God. * Updated *

The parents won't stop bickering at each other. I've already threatened to drive back home. Any comment one makes, the other has a subtle insult ready for response.

I'm sure part of it is stress over mom's upcoming surgery (Tuesday). But jiminy cricket, since when did sarcasm become the preferred way to show you love someone?

Oh, right, since Day One in this family.

This better not keep up, damnit, or it's gonna me, the dog, and some books this weekend.

* Update*

My parents have been married for 41 years this month. I never quite know what to make of their relationship. I have memories of crouching behind the linen closet with my sister, crying, listening to dad rant and rave and cuss and break things in the other room. The fights I'd then get into with my sister, shrugging off her concern, refusing to let myself be consoled, for I couldn't console her or mom or make him stop. The day of my birthday party where he threw plates and stormed off, and left mom to clean up and handle the guests. The trip to Springfield we took without him, since he & mom weren't talking. The time he left us for a few days, no note, no explanation, just drove off in a huff and stayed away. He went skydiving that time; his own way of tempting fate, I guess.

Nowadays, they're likely to hold hands or hug, but I don't trust it. One summer home from college, I found a letter from dad to his mom, saying that the divorce was in progress. They've never mentioned a divorce to us kids, and we've never brought it up. They say they love each other, but I don't know if they know what that means.

I don't think I know what that means.

Everyone Wants to Be Like Me

How cool am I? I have no idea if I have to work on Friday or not. Yep. I threw out the 2004 holiday schedule, figuring I knew everything. And now, I don't know if we have Christmas Eve off or not. My plan is just to say to people, "Are you working tomorrow?" and see what the reactions are.

My old boss, Ellen, who is now a good friend of mine, and I had lunch yesterday. Yummy Chinese food. Mmmm. She gave me a big ole candle in one of my favorite candle scents, Buttercream. She knows that's one of my faves cuz I left her a message about candles recently, for reasons that escape me now, telling her how Buttercream candles make me want to melt the wax down and wear them, they smell so good. I gave her a Murano glass necklace I bought for her in Venice, that had a purple glass bead, which is her favorite color. She either really liked the necklace or faked it well. :)

I made my first chili last night. Not sure if it really qualifies as chili, per se, but it tasted good. And now I have a whole shitload of leftovers. Although 'shit' probably shouldn't be associated with food, huh. Well, you haven't had some of my cooking...


Wednesday, December 22, 2004

this is an audio post - click to play

Tuesday, December 21, 2004

Answers? You Want Answers?

I got your answers right here, beyotch!

Julie: My only question is: can I have some of the truffles? Or the peanut butter fudge?

Julie, I won't give you any of the truffles, cuz I thought they were nasty. In fact, the only person who liked them was BIL, and he's not exactly discriminating. But, the fudge was good - and SIMPLE! I'll email you the recipe if you want.

Gooch: Who are your top 3 BILF's (Bloggers I'd Like to Fuck)?

Hmm...Goocharoo...good question. Being limited to only 3 is tough! I will say LiAps , cuz I know what one of his favorite pastimes is, which sounds grammatically incorrect...Inanna, cuz, well, that's just self-explanatory - the girl is smokin! And Pup, cuz all that furry beary goodness has got to feel good.

LiAps: If you were stranded on a desert island, and could only bring three things, which was your favorite Becky on Roseanne?

This one's obvious - the original Becky. Not the one who came in halfway through a season and was annoying and then went on to star in Scrubs. Nope, original Becky all the way. Nice misdirection try, btw. :)

Inanna: do ya love me, yeah, yeah, yeah, do ya love me, yeah, yeah, yeah???

Um...see the answer to Gooch's question. That should put your mind at ease. ;)

Peeved Michelle: Q: Do you know where I can score some good girl-on-girl porn?

I wish I did, PM, I wish I did.

PM: Q: What is it exactly that you do for a living?

My official title is Project Manager, and my usual answer to your question is that I manage projects. Basically, I act as liasion between 'systems' folks - i.e., developers, and 'business' folks - i.e., the clients. I manage teams consisting of both groups of people to make sure all requirements, deadlines, questions, and details are understood, agreed upon, and met, by both groups.

Trouble Maker Mikey: Isn't BILF the best new term you've heard in a while?

Actually, it is. I laughed outloud when I first read it.

Mikey: And did you notice that backwards it spells FLIB?

I hadn't noticed it, although I am a fan of anagrams, things that spell the same thing backwards as they do forwards. Like...'too far edna, we wander afoot.'

Mikey: I don't know what that means, but it sounds good, no?

It does sound good. We could always make up a meaning for it.

Mikey: Where can I score some good KtP on Girl porn? Or FLIB porn?

Unfortunately for us both, Mikey, there is no KtP on Girl porn out there, be it good OR bad. As for FLIB porn, well...I can't give all my secrets away!

Mikey: Will you send me an audioblog of you saying "PEON! PEON! PEON!"?

HA! If I could figure it out, I would...

Aimee: Earliest memory. Happiest memory. most embarrassing moment.

Earliest memory...I do remember sitting on a table, bawling, b/c I had spilled salt all over - and I mean alllllll over me and the table.

Happiest memory...Every Christmas Eve, I would sleep with my sister in her double bed. We would talk and giggle and try to peek on our parents and trace letters and words on each other's backs and try to guess them. We would wear our footy pajamas with the zipper all the way down. Those were good times. :)

Most embarrassing...hehe. During the freshman-only orientation When I was a freshman in college, I walked out of my dorm with some new friends. Feeling good, I jumped onto the ledge/bench to walk on it, much like a little kid walks on every surface that lies inches above the ground. Except...this ledge was about 4 feet above the ground on one side, and a few inches above ground on the other side. And instead of walking on the ledge to the stairs, and taking them down, I...tripped. And flipped. And landed on my back in the bushes. Yeah, not my finest moment. :)

Vicki: How much could a wood chuck chuck if a wood chuck could chuck wood? What would you do with $100,000 if you won it?

A woodchuck would chuck just as much wood as a wood chuck would chuck under normal wood chucking circumstances. :)

Hmm...$100k...I would buy a 'new' used car. And I would probably squirrel the rest away while I decided what else to do with the money. There would be some plane fare purchases, and some shoe purchases, and some charity donations, but I'd probably sit on the bulk of the money.

Tinyhands: Wanna ride bikes?

I would LOVE to ride bikes! I haven't been on a bike in ages. Got one I can borrow?

Joanne: Did you make those truffles yourself and if so what's the recipe?

I did make the truffles myself. If you still want the recipe, after my note to Julie above, just holler via email.

Ian: Why?

Ian, I gave this some serious thought, and my answer is, 'Why not?' Seriously. Whenever I'm debating making a purchase, or doing something, if I am thinking reasons for the 'why,' then I'll think of reasons for 'why not.' One of the two usually tip the scales.

Seven: Do you happen to have a belt to match those blue suede sneakers you prolly have secreted away in your closet?

Seven, you sneaky bastard...I will not confess to owning the belt OR the sneakers! And stay out of my closet!

Pup: Places/trips you will go/visit next year. Top 3 hottest guys, and top 3 hottest gals on your list.What would you do locked in a closet with Pup for 10 minutes?

Hmm...I may go to Turkey & Italy with my Sis & BIL. I may go to Vegas and/or Aruba. I will definitely go to North Dakota, to endure my 10yr high school reunion and see my friend's baby. And it turns out there's a chance I'll be in Manhattan in Q1 2005.

Hottest guys, ever? I like Bruce Willis. Woody Harrelson. The Rock. I like Lindsay Lohan, Britney, and...yer mama.

If I were locked in a closet with Pup for 10 minutes, the first thing I would do is try to figure out how the closet locks. I mean, none of my closets lock, so wtf? Then, I would try to find out how Pup got in the closet in the first place. Last I heard, stuffed bears - even drunk stuffed bears - don't have opposable thumbs, so how'd he open the door? After that, I'd try to figure out how to unlock the door. Stuffed or not, bears can be scary.

Seth: If you had one wish, what would it be?

I would wish for an infinite supply of wishes. Duh.

Or if you were an animal, which would it be? I would be ...an... armadillo.

And can I have a taste of your chocolate salty balls? Or the white chocolate chip bars?

Uh...there were no chocolate salty balls up for tasting! Ditto for the white chocolate chip bars! You taste it, you buy it!

Jamie: Hey, does this mean you'll be around MY town???

Hehe. I don't know if this was meant to be a 'real' question, but here goes. None of us actually live near you anymore. We all moved from there in '92. Sister has been back once or twice, but not for years; Mom & Dad have both been back a handful of times. I'm the only one who hasn't returned, though I really really want to.

Thanks for playing, folks!

Friday, December 17, 2004

Riddle Me This...

Semi-sweet truffles, rolled in cocoa, powdered sugar, cinnamon sugar, or granulated sugar
White chocolate truffles, rolled in the same
Peanut butter fudge, two batches
Butterscotch/marshmallow/nut bars
Rocky road fudge
White chocolate chip/butterscotch chip/peanut butter chip bars
Peanut butter and chocolate bars
Coconut balls, some covered in chocolate

Why, exactly, did I think I didn't have enough treats to feed a freakin army?? Oh well, plenty of leftovers to take to the family this weekend.

Since I'm having writer's block, and I'll be on the road and with family this weekend, I won't be around much to blog. Not that you'll miss out on anything inspiring or intellectual anyway. :)

So, I'm gonna do a Q & A post. Never done one, always wanted to, so have at. Ask me anything via the comments, and I'll answer.

Be good, kids. I'll check in when I can.

Thursday, December 16, 2004

Shit.

I have some serious topics and thoughts and ideas rattling around in this head of mine, but I'm having a lot of trouble spitting them out.

So, go for it. The floor's yours. Take it and run with it.

Stupid is as Stupid Does

Apparently I am not smart enough to figure out how the headphones should work with my CPU's CD player. WTF? It's not brain surgery - I'm 95% of the way through to my MBA - so why can't I figure out how to get the music to filter only through the headphones, so I can rock out to Fred Durst and the gang at maximum volume?

Oh.

Never mind.

Cute bald black guy showed me.

Wednesday, December 15, 2004

Recipe Help!

Hi. :) I need your help. :)

I spent about $30 at the grocery store the other day on baking items: powdered sugar, brown sugar, condensed milk, marshmallows, chocolate and butterscotch chips...but I have no recipes to use these in!

I've scoured FoodNetwork.com and CookingLight.com to find recipes, but they all call for more shit that I don't have (packaged cake mixes, store bought cookie dough, oats, eye of newt). I'm really not willing to go BACK to the grocery store for more ingredients, so...

What are your favorite baking recipes? Or favorite recipe sites?


Tuesday, December 14, 2004

Kids Say the Darndest Things

Back in September, I attended the baby shower of one of my closest friends, N. N lives out of state, so I don't get a chance to see her that often. She's married to a great guy, B, and she's an active step-mother to B's daughter, A.

A is 10 and a half. She's a great kid - funny, helpful, generally polite and upbeat. I'm not very good with kids, and I don't spend much time with A, but she's enjoyable.

When I went out for N's shower, I brought a small present for A. I threw it in a decorative bag and placed it in the master bedroom, just off from the kitchen, while I helped with the party set-up. When things had calmed down a bit, I grabbed a quiet minute with A.

"A, I know there's a lot of excitement about the baby, but you're going to be a big sister, and that's a very important role. I have a big sister and she's always there for me. I wanted to make sure you know how important a big sister can be, so I got you a little something. It's downstairs in your room."

A scampered off; came back upstairs a few minutes later and gave me what I thought was a strange look. "Thanks," she said.

The next day, over lunch with N and another good friend (who was the actual shower host), N told me that A had mentioned to her that I gave her something and talked to her. N asked me very carefully what I said to A.

When I told N, she said that A had told her exactly that. N then told us how when she asked A what I got her, A said "Well, she said it was in my room, but nothing was there. I just figured she meant love. She gave me love for the baby."

It was at precisely that second that I realized I had tucked the bag in the master bedroom, out of the way. That poor kid! She thought I was giving her some bullshit gift, some inane pep talk! Shit, I actually spent money on the kid!

We had a good laugh out of it, and especially over A's politeness to thank me for a gift she didn't quite get, and I made sure N knew where to tell A to look.

Monday, December 13, 2004

All Over the Place

Our division holiday outing was today. That means another free lunch at an overpriced place that isn't very good and the afternoon off. I used the extra hours wisely: finished my shopping, mailed some packages to friends out-of-state thereby avoiding long, peak-hour Post Office lines, got some additional baking goods, went to the bank...It's nice to be productive.
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My brother-in-law is an old man wannabe. He likes sweater vests and slippers and hot tea. I bought him a sweater for Christmas a few years ago that had suede patches on the elbows; he wore it for the next two days. I decided this year I wanted to get him an old man cardigan. But either the stores didn't carry them (thank you Marshall Fields), they were nazzzzty (thank you Nordstroms), or they were acrylic (thank you Kohls).
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I turned my search online, where I found a nice wool one at LL Bean. I didn't really want to pay the $72 it would end up being, but we're doing Christmas this weekend - I was getting desperate. So last night I ordered the fucking expensive sweater. Today, I swung by Lord & Taylor, where they have wool cardigans that look identical to those at LL Bean but at half the price. Sold! I came home and emailed LL Bean to cancel my order, but they said they had already processed it.

Now, it's Christmastime. They hadn't had my order for 18 hours yet. I seriously DOUBT they had processed it already. Fuck. I'll just have to return the sweater when it comes. Fuck. I'm not good at returning things - I still have two packages here that need to go back, one from before May. Ack!
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I do have two batches of peanut butter fudge chilling in the fridge, as well as coconut balls. Coco. Nut. Balls.
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I drove home behind a school bus today, which made many neighborhood stops. When I was growing up, I didn't live in a 'neighborhood.' I lived in the country. Country Club Road, to be exact, which isn't quite as prestigious as it sounds. True, the school bus did pick us up out there, but there were no sidewalks. There weren't even any direct neighbors. My mom raised chickens for a while - apparently we were poor, but I never noticed. I think my intense dislike of birds stems from the pecking I received one summer afternoon...

In the winter, Sister & I would trek across our yard, down the hill, through the spiderwebby culvert, and up Lingle's hill, where we'd sled and toboggan until it grew dark. Some years, the culvert was inaccessible, and we'd climb the barbed wire fence to access the hill. Ah, sledding with torn pants. And the fun of sliding right into the semi-frozen creek at the bottom of the hill!

Girl + toboggan + gravity + speed = enough force to crack through ice!

We'd build ramps and wave to the cars, and sometimes the cars would stop, if it was someone who knew us. Some years, when our driveway iced over, Sis & I - along with mom's best friend's kids - would pretend we were mountain climbers, and try to haul ourselves up from the very bottom of the long, windy hill. It was harmless and innocent fun.

Chickens and cows and sleds, oh my!

Friday, December 10, 2004

The Twins are Leading Again...

Yep, the girls have decided it's time to be noticed. Good timing, cuz there are some cute guys in my new area...

And I've decided they're fraternal twins, not identical, for what it's worth.

Thursday, December 09, 2004

Blogger Lies

I had a rude awakening last night. I learned from a fellow blogger that a 3rd party blogger blogs under an assumed name. I know, I was shocked too. People are so distrusting these days. I mean, what's the issue with using your real name and location on a forum where thousands of strangers can get to know you?

After that revelation, I did some thinking, which is never pretty under the best of circumstances. Here's what I realized:

Pup probably isn't a drunk stuffed bear; Sloth is probably human. Lovisa most likely has nothing to do with counts or chocolate or counting chocolate. And that Snow Pea she's been talking about? I'd be willing to bet that it's neither snow nor pea. Hmph.

I bet Inanna is mortal, too, and not a goddess. Mike probably has hair. LiAps is probably a retired law firm partner and all the long hours he kvetches about are made up.

Sigh. I bet all others online lie, too, and that will leave me as the only 5'10", 100lb, DDD-cup blonde out there.

Is There a Catch?

Coworker: I wanted to run something past you.

Katey: Shoot.

Coworker: I got a flier in the mail from the Saturn dealership, because I used to own one. There was a scratch-off box on the flier, and when I scratched it off, it revealed $1000.

Katey: Okayyyy...

Coworker: The details of the flier said that meant I just received $1000 towards anything there. Service, or accessories, or...whatever, without any obligation. Do you think there's a catch?

Katey: Does a Catholic pope shit in the woods? (Okay, I didn't say that, but I wanted to.)

I hope there is a catch. A big fucking catch, and she gets caught.

Tuesday, December 07, 2004

A Jew & a Catholic Walk Into City Hall...

I'm the odd product of a fairly devout Catholic mother and a fairly lax Jewish father. They were married in a time when no member of the church would perform a mixed-faith marriage. I was raised Catholic, though never subjected to the likes of Sunday school, catechism classes, or baptism, as that was where dad drew the line. We always celebrated Christmas in my house - a tree, midnight mass, homage to the baby Jesus...and Hanukkah was something foreign, something other people celebrated.

Every few years, my paternal grandmother - a shrew by any other name - would spend the holidays with us. This woman taxed my mother (and my father, and my sister - I think I was too young to really bear the brunt) like no other, but she did bring something magical with her. When she visited over Hanukkah, we'd bring out the tarnished menorah and the book of prayers, and my father would intone words I had never heard before, words in a language I knew nothing of. Dreidels would appear, along with gelt. We'd read stories from the blue book of prayers, and as I grew older, I learned the songs on whatever instrument I played at that time. I didn't understand them, but they meant something.

Grandma's presence brought out aspects of my father that I never knew existed. Who was this man, who spoke Hebrew and remembered prayers and songs from so long ago? Dad hasn't been to temple/synagogue in 30 years, if not longer.

There's a beautiful framed picture at my parents' house, of my grandfather, in black-and-white, a sweet man by all tales, at his bar mitzvah. It must have been taken around 1930 (they did have cameras then, right? I'd hate to have figured the dates wrong.).

So by birth, I'm half Jewish. However, Hanukkah - for me - has always been a somewhat superficial holiday, one without much understanding or tradition. Though I don't officially or formally celebrate it, I've lit a candle tonight and devoted some time to prayer. I need it. We need it.

Happy Hanukkah.

Monday, December 06, 2004

Only One Thing to Say - Updated

He better be street if he lookin' at me.

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I guess there is more than one thing to say. Hmpfh.

Why, exactly, don't I have any angry music at work? I could really rock out to some Limp Bizkit about now. Instead, I'll settle for the gufs and know that I can now control you with a smile.

Property Kick in the Teeth

Just for fun, after some comments over at Jay's site, I thought I'd take a quick look to see what I could get in my area.

Based on one website (www.remax.com) , and in either my current zip code or four surrounding towns, with any number of bedrooms and bathrooms, the cheapest non-condo/non-townhome/non-mobile or manufactured, non-attached home I could purchase is mine for just $215,000! (The link wouldn't work).

A cozy little 3bdrm, 46 years old, 1/4 acre, annual taxes of over $2k.

I realize this isn't as bad as say, NYC, but for someone who's always lived in a house and would really really like to get her own...it looks like it's going to be a while longer.

Sunday, December 05, 2004

Stupid Things I've Done Lately

1. Hit the curb. Hard. While going 50 mph. Damn overcompensating women drivers. (No, that's not a sexist remark - I'm making fun of me. I think I'm allowed)

2. Sat in my desk chair (at home, tg) and promptly fell over backwards.

3. Burned - nay, scorched - the bottom of a pot while making dinner. Santa has been informed of the late addition to my list.

4. Bought ten lbs of flour (hey, it was BOGO) without checking my cupboards first. I now have 5lbs in my freezer, about 3 lbs in my storage container, and about 2 lbs in the cupboard. Unless I bake 4 dozen cookies for everyone I know, I will be hoarding flour until 2010.

5. Along the same lines...I spent $5 on one single goddamn pound of butter, only to come home and throw it in the freezer, next to the other pound that's currently resting there. I figure I'll run out of butter just slightly before I run out of flour.


Friday, December 03, 2004

As Etta Said...

...at last! Good news!

1. My doctor said that if all keeps going as well as it is right now, then I won't have to go back for a year. A WHOLE YEAR! I've been there at least a dozen times this year - not to mention surgery - so that would be a really really nice treat. I'm cautiously optimistic.

As a side note, my doctor - upon checking the size of my uterus - whispered "It's not enlarged. It's a small little uterus, like it should be." I thought it was funny.

2. I had a really really rough day at work, because I'm taking on a project that releases on Monday and it's SHIT but I proved my worth to my new bosses and internal clients by taking charge and making shit happen. So that felt good.

3. I baked last night for work today - soft sugar cookies and peanut butter/chocolate bars and people RAVED about them today.

4. I had a good lunch with my old boss/friend Ellen. She is about 15yrs older than I am but gives good advice sometimes and I can open up to her about a lot.

5. I'm going to open a new beer and take a bubble bath with my new Cosmo. Anyone wanna join me? Anyone?

Thursday, December 02, 2004

...This World is a Whore...

And if you know that reference, more points to you.

So, yeah, I've been in a pissy mood this week. Sue me. I'm entitled, aren't I? I'm chipper all fucking day at work, even when people fuck things up and I have to smooth things over and take the heat. That's fine, that's my job. That's why I get paid the lower-middle-class wages. I'm cool with that.
But then I come home and I need to decompress and vent about all the shit that bottles up in my mind during the day. And there's a lot of shit.

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I start my new position on Monday. Granted, I'll still be working on the same floor as my current team, and granted, I'll still operate from the same cube until Thursday, but...no one has made any noise about an after-work drink celebration for me. No. One. I've worked with these people for 2 yrs; some of them, 4 yrs. I've received more offers from people in OTHER DEPARTMENTS for an after-work get-together to celebrate. I'm a little insulted. And organizing something myself is pathetic.

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My family is celebrating Christmas the week before this year, at my sister's house. She offered many reasons in support of her hosting, and while they may have been true, the main reason was that it makes things easier on her. She & Hubby always spend a lot of time on the road during the holidays, as I'm sure many others do. By celebrating one week earlier and at her casa, it a) cuts down their time on the road (our parents live 2 hours from her), b) takes away the whole whose-parents-do-we-spend-Christmas-with-this-year dilemna, c) gives her Greyhounds time for multiple daily dog park visits, which are not as feasible in mom & dad's town, d) puts her in control, something she's not very good at relinquishing.

Personally, I could give a shit where we celebrate, or when, to an extent. I just want Sis to own up to the fact that she has selfish reasons for suggesting this.

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I made sugar cookies tonight for work tomorrow. Not because I'm leaving, but because I've been in the mood to bake and found an easy recipe that will use some of the leftover sour cream in my fridge. The cookies are...okay. Not the best, but wtf. I only had one, cuz it fell on the floor.

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Since I've been home tonight - about 3 hours - I've had two full glasses of skim milk and about a liter of diet dr. pepper. Quench this, bitch.

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I have a dr's appt tomorrow. I'm a little worried, as I've been having some twinges of pain in my left side, right about where they took out my nontumor growth back in July. I'm hoping it's just something like a lost nerve or something. Not the right term, but you know - like when you lose an arm, and you can still feel it?

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Old Navy ads make me want to dress up in a hoody sweatshirt and hurl myself off my balcony.

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I bought a $250 suit the other night at Lord & Taylors. Being the smart shopper that I am, I got it for $25. All about being in the right place at the right time.

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I'm watching The Apprentice right now and I'm disgusted. Dropping your skirt is no way to run a business. Be professional, for christ's sake. This show is giving women in business a shoddy name.
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Beatdown?

If someone calls you at 8:05am, who should be meeting you for an 8:00am meeting, and asks "Where exactly in the building are you located?" and you proceed to answer with "Y3," which is an area that encompasses approximately 150 cubes, and you KNOW THIS because you work in the goddamn building, then you deserve my foot up your ass.

If you are then asked, after a brief pause, "Can you be more specific?" and you reply with "Column T9," knowing, since you still work in the building, that the columns are CREAM and are numbered/lettered in CREAM, and that there are HUNDREDS of columns because SOMETHING has to hold up the goddamn ceiling, then you deserve my other foot up your ass for giving a stupid answer.


Wednesday, December 01, 2004

Godfuckingdamnit

I fucking hate Excel and formulas. I know they're not hard, and I work with them all the time, but WTF???? I've literally spent my afternoon trying to take a timeline that SAYS it's for a 26-wk project but is actually for a 20-wk project and adjust it so it meets my 24-wk needs.

WTF? Am I so fucking retarded that I can't run a stupid fucking program?

Don't answer that.

I've changed the formulas, I've (manually) recalculated the dates, I've revised all the dates, I've taken the stupid T-140 (which does NOT equal 26 weeks, you numnut) and changed it to T-168...and nothing worked. Now, when I try to change them AGAIN, the stupid fucking formula changes, so I can't even copy/paste!!!! If one field says =E108-168, then why would the next field - also operating on T-168, and based off of the implementation date in E108, change to E109???????

Spite. That's the answer. Fucking fuckwads.

Why did I pick this fucking week to quit smoking??????????????


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