Kiss Off Into the Air...
I've liked the Violent Femmes for years. I remember driving around in high school with my friend Kelly, covertly smoking and shouting out the lyrics. Her skater boyfriend Rob had turned her onto them, but it was music I had already known and forgotten. Since then, they've stayed a part of my life.
It was a nice little street fair. Swanky shops are on both sides of the streets and they had closed the street down, allowing for food and beer tents, plus the usual airbrush tattoo booths and whatnot. Some of the shops are smaller, kind of obscure, so I hope they had good exposure this weekend. I had been surprised the Femmes were playing, as it's not really that kind of neighborhood. But surprisingly, the crowd was into it.
People everywhere were singing along, clapping, yelling. It was a tame audience - more kiddy strollers than probably ever before at one of their shows - but people were definitely enjoying themselves. Except for the asshole behind me at one point who yelled "no" to "Do you like American music?' I gave him a dirty look. Punk.
Anyway, they played all my favorites - started with Out the Window, did American Music, Blister in the Sun, and their encore was Kiss Off. They sounded great, which I hadn't been sure of, since they're in their 40s. And I'm not saying that's old, and certainly by some band standards, that's quite young, but you never know. At any rate, they definitely can still play.
The guy who met me there was from one of the online personals spots. We've been IM'ng this past week or so and he seemed nice enough. I debated inviting him to the show b/c I really just wanted to enjoy the music, but then I thought having someone fun to enjoy it with could be a nice change.
He's just...dull. No chemistry from me whatsoever. He's 5'1, which he didn't lie about, but it's really too short in person. Also, he has bad teeth - lotsa gaps. Sorry, it's a turn off. Smart enough, good conversationalist, but...he also kept touching me. An arm on the back, a pat on the arm during conversation...ick. No. If I don't know you, don't touch me.
I know it's a sign of interest, but geez...that was our first meeting. It's like, all the things girls watch themselves for with guys to not show they're needy, he did. The touching. The use of the pronoun 'we.' "We need to get you an ipod!" No. No, we don't. Not to mention, during the concert, he kept standing almost behind me and to the side. Dude. Buddy. NEXT to me. Cuz you can't see over me, so what the fuck? He also said I was in a daze at one point. Um. No. Eyes are focused on the band, dude.
He also kept asking what I thought or if he met my expectations. SO awkward. I would never ask that kind of question. I gave some bland answer about not having many expectations, or some such. He told me I'm a sweet girl and wants to "do this again" sometime, to which I said sure...as friends. I don't think that's what he wanted to hear, but that's too bad. I wasn't feeling it at all.
So the concert was great and the boy was not. One outta two ain't bad.
Dear BBB,
I know you said you don't want to lead anyone (me) on, but what about sending mixed signals? Cuz boy, you've got that one down.
Take, for instance, your text message to me today. I didn't ask you to let me know if you landed in Reno safely. I didn't ask to know if your plane took off on time. I didn't ask to know if you even made it to the airport in time for your crack-of-dawn flight.
So why did you let me know?*
You did that when you flew to Maryland, too. That time, I attributed it to the fact that I gave you a ride to the airport. Fine. But...Letting me know that makes me think a) you were thinking of me, b) you wanted me to know you were okay, c) you may have thought I wanted or needed to know you were okay. And while I certainly don't want harm to find you...I ask, with complete seriousness...what the fuck?
You've said you don't want to date me. I'm (at times) okay with that. So, please, stop acting like there's more to this than a friendship.
This doesn't change the fact that you're serious eye candy, but please - cut a girl loose, would you?
Thanks, have fun, and I'll see you at the office on Thursday.
Katey
*Unless you also called your mother and your friends in town who weren't on the plane with you. If that's the case, then please tear up this note, burn the pieces, and then bury them in your yard.
Bottom of the Ninth...
Yesterday was long but fun. I took the bus down to the game from the office, with BBB & another teammate. I figured others would be taking the bus, as who wants to pay $40 for parking and deal with Wrigleyville traffic? I was sadly mistaken.
But the bus was convenient and the stadium seats were decent. Apparently 500 tickets had been given to employees but we didn't even see a fraction of the people. My group sat together, so I had a few smartass guys to liven things up. Had a yummy strawberry daiquiri and some salty nachos. Mmm, processed cheese.
The other girl with us is Russian and had never been to a baseball game before. There's a guy in our group who has Cubs season tickets and takes days off from work to go to the games. So he was hardcore into it and spent time explaining the game to the Russian, which was funny to listen to.
The game, if you didn't know, was the Cubs against Arizona. The Cubs were winning after the first two innings, but then stayed down until the last chance they had. Two outs and they pulled a double to win, 4-3. It was pretty fun.
I went to a White Sox game a couple years ago and remember it as quieter and just not as lively. This was a lot more upbeat, a lot more fun. I don't care who's a better team or who wins or any of that shit. I just thought it was more fun to see the Cubs.
After the bus dropped us back at the office, I went to a local bar/restaurant to meet a couple old coworkers for drinks.
And when I say old...I mean that I used to work with them. And that they're old. They're two guys, K and D, in their late 40s and early 50s respectively. They each hvae three kids - Ds are my age - and D is widowed, while K has a shitty relationship with his wife.
The boys are fun. D doesn't really 'get' it and has a work ethic that sucks, but K and I work similarly and well together. We had a few drinks and a couple appetizers and alternately made fun of D, K, me, D some more, and then D again. Nice and relaxing.
Not too bad for a workday, eh?
Friday
There was like, a ballgame? And like, people cheered and stuff? And like, other people drank beer? And had really salty nachos?
I'm beat. Tomorrow's post will be about today. And Sunday's post will be about Saturday. And I'll never fucking get caught up.
Question for the Masses
Okay. I'm curious about something. And as I'm off on my merry way to a Cubs game (non-digital camera in tow), I figured I would leave this to sit and percolate, finding answers when I return. (And now I have "it's time for the percolater" repeating in my head. Well done, KtP.)
I've noticed that some of my regular readers have ceased to comment lately. I'm wondering why. Please feel free to tell me if that's because my writing is drivel, the topics too whiney, the bitching too often. I'm not going to change, of course, but I do wonder why you, and you, and yes, even you, have ceased to remark.
So, lemme know. Seriously. Be anonymous if you want. I'm not looking for asskissery, I'm just looking for feedback.
Peer Pressure
A coworker I know fairly well asked me today if I was dating anyone. When I replied in the negative, she said "Kate-yyyyyyyyy! Katey, Katey," shaking her head all the while.
"Am I supposed to be seeing someone?" I asked. Yes, she replied.
So, in the nature of defending my pitiful social life, I lied and said I had been seeing someone at the beginning of the year. The truth is that I got laid then, not that I was seeing someone.
But her...insistence, or disappointment, almost made me feel badly for myself.
Which is completely stupid. She's in her 40s, married with 3 kids. NOT what I want. And yet, I could tell she felt almost sorry for me (maybe not sorry for me, but badly for me, if I can reuse that word. Which I can, because this is my blog.)
And that's the whole problem I have with personal ads. It admits that I would like to be dating someone, that I would like someone in my life. It admits that I haven't found anyone on my own and that I need help in doing so.
I hate that, all of that. It's hard enough to admit it to myself, let alone to the public. To do that, in addition to the rejection factor...it's almost humiliating.
This isn't about finding 'the one,' or anything like that. It's about dealing with a need and not being able to resolve that on my own. It's about going public with something lacking. It's about facing fears. Finding 'the one' is incidental.
Slacker
Two posts this week only and it's already Thursday. I just got nothing to say these days, folks. Even went so far as to review my draft posts in the hopes that something would come to me.
Nada.
I figured the easiest way to get my mojo back was to claim that it had completely left. If that theory holds, I should have about 4 new posts up this afternoon.
If not, well...you have a life. Go live it.
Finish Line - UPDATED!
*** Update at the top cuz it's so good! ***
I just found out that the Violent Femmes will be performing Saturday night at a festival near me. I'm SO THERE!
Who wants to come with???
-----
I hate endings. I never know if it's a good thing things end or not. And sometimes things end before they start, and I never know what to do with that, either.
Whatev.
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I joined eHarmony last night, as the blog material from the other site was dwindling. So far eH has found me three 'matches.' Oh, boy. I've contacted one of them but I'm not hopeful.
Maybe that's part of the problem.
-----
Dreamt last night that I had a baby. As in, gave birth. And the baby was, of course, BBB's. He remained unfazed. It wasn't until I realized that the baby was all WHITE that I realized I must have misjudged how far along I was and that the baby really belonged to Ex.
Which is strange considering I haven't slept with him in 2+ years.
I had no idea what to do with a baby. I picked it up and held it when I got worried b/c it wasn't moving from the blankets. It didn't cry at all and I was worried it was dead. When I offered, it nursed, but at one point I was convinced it was a doll.
I know, I know...lay off the crack before bedtime.
-----
I did not go to running group last night - it was pouring. So I left work early and went shopping with a friend instead. She spent $200+; I spent $30. I like that balance. Besides, she makes way more than I do, which she pointed out last week in a conversation we were having.
I was mildly surprised at her comment. She's been here 4x as long as I have; she's 15yrs older. She SHOULD be making more than I.
But then I realize that she spends hundreds of dollars each weekend at the casinos and really has no money saved at all and I feel better about myself.
-----
My new job is going through. As of 8/15, I will be '50/50' - half-time in the old job, half-time in the new. Do you have any idea how much that will suck? BIG TIME. But that will only be for two weeks; I'll be full-time in the new job as of 9/1.
-----
Another Installment of....
...PERSONAL AD WEIRDOS!!!!
Had a message from one guy saying hello. Looked over his profile and saw that one of his turn-offs was sarcasm.
Um, hello. So I wrote him back, thanking him for the note, and saying that if sarcasm turned him off, then I didn't think we'd be a match.
His response? "You're so pretty you can be sarcastic to me any day."
I didn't respond to that, but he didn't get the clue, as he just sent me another note, this time saying he liked my sarcasm.
NEXT!
Not that the next one is any better. This is the exact message I got: "mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm delicious looking"
I responded saying that was unconventional, but thanks, and he said something about everything about him is unconventional but he likes being him. Dude, whatever works.
NEXT!
There is one guy I've been IM'ng with. He seems decent. He also seems short, if his profile is correct, but I can't let that hold me back until we meet and see if there's any chemistry.
I closed out my service on one account. On the second one I joined, my profile has been viewed by 150 individuals. I have received about 6 separate responses. It's a good thing I'm not bitter.
Enough of this introspective, serious thinking shit for now. Ya'll want pictures, right?
Well, I don't have pics of the wedding yet. But I do have other pictures for your enjoyment...
Such as our dear friend
Lois Lane and her very fuckable husband.
You can't blame her for jumping him in front of me, can you?!?!
Or what about the monster girl
Aimee's sister
Kate made? She guards my kitchen quite nicely!
It's a good size painting, but it looks rather small there.
This is the cake I decorated a while back, copied from one I saw in a magazine. I ended up throwing a good part of it out - what was left after taking it into work and then spending a week or two in my freezer. If I didn't pitch it, I was gonna eat it, and there was no need for that!
There are a few lagging Costa Rica pictures, including much better waterfall shots than I had previously. Here's one, for example:
Here's a pic of one of the souvenirs I bought while there. No idea what to call it, as you can use it for everything, but this one was saved for my wall. It's now hanging in my bedroom, adding some color.
Otherwise, just pics of my girls from my bday celebration and a few of my weekend in Madison. I have a(nother) work outing this Friday, so there will be pics taken there in an effort to finish that role and get my wedding shots developed.
Dear _____,
I hate you for this, you know. I hate you because I feel it's your fault I'm in this position.
Yeah, whatever, you don't care. You think I'm petty and juvenile and I need to move on. You think I don't think that myself?
And I know there are no guarantees, and there never were any. And I have no proof that even if you hadn't done what you did, that I wouldn't be in this same position today.
But the fact of the matter is, I am in this position. And I hate it.
I never had to admit before that I wanted anyone. I never had to admit that I was lonely or that I was looking, wanting, someone to be with me. I never admitted that because you were always there in some capacity. Even when things weren't at their best between us, I always felt we would work it out, that you would always be that person I was looking for.
And even if I did have to admit it, I never really could, because I was so focused on doing for myself. Wasn't it somehow 'wrong' of me to want more than I already had? Wasn't it 'wrong' of me to not be content with the good fortune that surrounded me?
You never shied away from admitting it. Remember the personal ads I helped you write? Yeah. Where's my help when I need it?
Oh, right. You don't know that I'm doing personals, because you don't know me at all anymore. You don't know where I am or what I'm doing or what I think about when I lie awake in bed at night.
And maybe that's really why I hate you.
Decisions & Regret
Today I am leaving work early and going to old boss's daughter's wedding. I am going with BBB. I am SO regretting it. It won't even be fun from a flirty standpoint b/c I'm over him in that regard.
Apparently everyone but me/us knew better than to go to a work-related wedding. No one I thought would be fun to hang out with is going. The wedding is close to downtown Chicago and the reception is in some castle-place in Indiana.
Yes, Indiana.
My big dilemna was what to wear. Do I go with the purple silk dress I've worn to a wedding before, even though I can't find one earring and the one I can find is tangled beyond repair?
Do I wear a long black dress that's brightened by flowers and some sequiny-things, but isn't quite comfortable for a full day?
Or do I go with a more comfortable dress that's probably too sexy for a work-wedding? I do have earrings to match this one, though...
Decisions, decisions. Tell me what you think I should have done and when I get home tonight (assuming I'm not too snockered, which I shouldn't be, since there will be at least a couple work people there), I'll tell you what I wore.
Sunrise, Sunrise...
...looks like morning in your eyes.
It's time for some updates 'round this joint, don't you think? I've left a lot of loose ends dangling in the wind (MMM, if you zipped up, that would help).
Let's see...where to start...
My Family SeriesI haven't finished, if you've been paying attention. Mom is the last person to write about and the symbolism isn't lost on me - in real life, she's often the last I go to. I can talk (usually) to Dad & Sister for a while; Mom frustrates me after about 2 minutes. I've been working on it though (both my frustration and the post) and will complete soon.
The Pregnant Teen
S is doing well. She is excited for the baby and wants to keep it. She has started her job and is continuing to live with my friend V. Apparently S had been on the pill, and during the time she went off the pill and on the patch, a little embryo began growing inside her. Which is discouraging in that she was at least being responsible and using birth control and trying to avoid pregnancy...but she's still going to her classes (English lit & state-certified childcare) and is working and being fairly cheerful.
The Sexual Predator
New Girl, the mother of the 19yr old up for sexual abuse charges, wrote a letter to a local newspaper. A reporter contacted her and
wrote an article about the larger situation, but using D as an example. The response was so great that the reporter wrote a
follow-up article, calling to task the young girls who actively search out older men.
Some of you asked why New Girl hadn't tried settling out of court. I mentioned this to her, and she mentioned it to her lawyer. Apparently, though, as this is a criminal case and not civil, that's not an option.
New Girl's son's court date is next Friday, the 29th.
Glass-making Seminar
As is my luck in trying to sign up for a class, I am Interested Person #3. There needs to be 4 people to form a class. This is why I've yet to take a cake decorating class - they always (always!) have been cancelled due to low registry.
Balcony Fiasco
I spoke to the manager of my complex yesterday about the shitty response time from her maintenance crew. She was shocked and disgusted with it. She thinks what must have happened is that the switchboard told maintenance it was a regular lockout, which maintenance does not do after hours. However, she is going to investigate and will call me today regardless of the answer.
That's all for now, peeps. Have a good one.
Good Stuff
Yeah. I'm kind of down today. So in an attempt to pick myself up by the bra straps, here's some random goodness:
1. I made a slight attempt at picking up. One load of dishes done, trash taken out, some trash picked up from around, dishes loaded in the sink instead of the floor for round 2, and made a start on compiling the multiple piles of dirty clothes into one central locale.
2. I got outside and did my running tonight. It's discouraging - I've been building up to consistent 12-minute runs on the treadmill, but I get outside and 2 minutes kills me. But, I'm getting out there and doing it, and that's a good thing.
3. I was down 4lbs at the doctor's tonight.
4. I sent panties with unicorns on them in the mail to my sister. I also sent her some with butterflies that say 'Free as a butterfly.' She got them today and they made her smile.
5. I finally - FINALLY - had someone talk to me at work today about the new position my bosses want me in. It's going to be a trying position - I'll be working with (and thus, sometimes against - don't ask) some very difficult people. But bottom line, my bosses want me in a new role, so I'm taking it. The woman in the role now is being forced out b/c she sucks, so they want me in there pronto. I'm a little scared but a lot flattered.
6. I got a new project at work today that's very high profile. It's going to be difficult - the clients want it released on 8/1 but haven't finished all the requirements yet. :) But, it should be interesting and something challenging, which I don't really have right now. I may not keep the project, depending on when I move into the new role, but I'll at least start it.
7. I got loads and loads of magazines in the mail today: Newsweek (read at the doctor's office), Rolling Stone, Cooking Light, Cosmo...I'm in hog heaven! Not to mention I bought a trashy celebrity mag yesterday b/c I was planning on some pool time.
Okay. That's enough good stuff to perk even me up a little. Gotta go do some reading...
Night, peeps.
Hi.
Thanks, all, for your kind thoughts about yesterday's experience. I am fine, and as my dad so encouragingly said (not), "Try not to let it get to you."
I'm a bit down today, and not sure how much of that is due to spending the last of my weekend stranded.
I'm trying to sign up for a 6-week glassmaking seminar, but I haven't heard back yet. It's just one more way in which I'm trying to get a life.
Except, that, it won't really help, because while I'll be doing something new and learning something and out of the house for an additional 3hrs a week, I'll still be doing it alone.
Like, this weekend. I went to dinner Friday. But I went alone, so does that even really count as 'doing' something? I went to an art fair Saturday, and while I relished not being there with my parents and having to constantly look for them 500 booths back from where I landed, there were some things I wanted to point out to someone else. But...someone else wasn't there.
My profile on the 'new' dating site I joined over the weekend has been viewed 44 times since it's been active. I've been contacted zero times by anyone from that site.
Yeah, I'm having a pity party. Either shut up or join me.
Horrible Experience
6:30ish PM
After my walk/run today - outside, blech - I went out on my balcony to cool down. Nice class of cold water next to me and I figured the slight breeze would feel good.
7pm
After about 30 minutes, I decided enough was enough and I wanted my a/c.
Except.
I couldn't get my sliding glass door open.
I tried and tried, and it just wasn't budging. I didn't know what the problem was - could the a/c being on inside form a seal so that the door required super human strength to open?
I tried a few more times and it just was not working.
So, I took to patrolling the balconies in my viewing range (a right angle to where I am). Nothing. No one walking by, no one driving up.
7:45pm
Finally, I spotted a neighbor walk out to her balcony. I got her attention, and we shouted back and forth at each other. She called the office, which is of course closed on Sunday nights. Got the switchboard and reported that they were paging maintenance.
I know that my next-door neighbor is one of the maintenance guys, and figured it wouldn't be long.
8pm
I feel like I'm getting heatstroke. Just dying of heat and sweating like nothing you've ever seen. My water is now gone.
8:30pm
No one is nearby. The girl who called for me hasn't bothered to check on me, and I didn't think at the time to ask her. Boy am I regretting that now. I see a neighbor on the first floor tend to his grill. I start yelling "hellooooo" and "I need help!" but he didn't get the message.
9:00pm
I'm yelling again and no one is around to hear me. I've been debating this whole time whether or not I should take my little $17.99 tiled table and break the glass door with it, but each time I clear it off and pick it up, I scare myself away from that idea.
9:30pm
I see another neighbor! I start waving my arms and yelling "Can you see me? I need help!"
She hears me, even sees me in the near pitch-black. She calls again, tells me power went out in another building and it will be about 15 minutes. If they're not there then, she'll make a second call.
9:31pm
A light goes on in my apartment. It's my maintenance neighbor! The place is, of course, trashed, which was tonight's project, so I'm a little embarrassed, but he brushes it off.
Apparently the door locked when it closed. I don't know if the force with which I slammed it shut threw the lock down, or what, but damn if I'm going out there anytime soon!
9:33pm
I called my sister and cried out of frustration. I also started dinner/lunch.
Monday
I am SO talking to the manager.
Guilt & Dementia
There are a few blogs out there whose authors I don't like. No, don't fret, it's not you; it's no one who reads me. I don't know why I don't like the authors; it's not like I know them.
But for some reason, I can't seem to stay away from their sites. I don't read them daily, but I check in now and again. I always leave slightly disgusted, but whether with myself or with the authors, it's hard to say.
I don't know what it is - why I keep going back, or anything. But I doubt I'll be stopping soon.
-----
Feeling a bit of guilt lately too. Things aren't perfect; they're not even as good as they could be. But I'm still feeling guilt, and I don't like it.
I'm having success job-wise lately, but personally...things aren't grand. Does that mean I have half a life? Does that mean I should work harder in that area? Does that mean my professional success doesn't matter, or is overshadowed?
I don't know. But I don't like it.
Winna Winna Winna!
Was contacted by a new guy from the personals' site tonight. This was our first conversation ever.
Classy Guy: You could come over and play pool, help me drink my beer.
KtP: Thanks, but actually I can't. Single girl, stranger, you know the rules. :)
CG: Your rules. Not mine.
KtP: Right, my rules. The only ones I go by.
CG: You can probably count the number of guys you've slept with on one hand, huh?
KtP: What is THAT supposed to mean?
CG: You just seem a little frigid.
Friday Humor - Updated
1. I'm soooo tempted to update my ad to what I wrote below (including the 'lack of humor' line). I'll let you know if I do. It certainly can't hurt anything!
2. My brakes are fixed my brakes are fixed! All for less than half of the original CarX quote. YAY!
3. I had an email from one of my gfs waiting for me this morning, telling me about her 9month old baby. (This is my very good friend and my honorary niece). Baby now pulls herself up from the crib and does other fun things. Since my mom knows my friend and has baby fever, I was going to copy the parts about the kid into a note for mom.
Except that I forgot the last thing I had copied was "white globs of goodness" from
E-Lo's site.
Somehow, I don't think mom would have seen the humor in that.
That's it for now. I'm sure more will come to me. Or, you know, not, in which case I'll make them up and demand that you laugh with me.
* Update *
4. On the way to lunch today with E, she's venting and bitching because she's had a shitty past two weeks. Her dad's in the hospital for pneumonia, emergency hip replacement surgery, and just diagnosed with Parkinsons. The hospital has been fucking everything up, etc etc, and work's been a bitch.
So as we're rushing to lunch b/c she has a 1pm mtg...we get to an intersection at a green light. But no one is moving. There is a LINE of geese walking single-file across the street. Seriously, this was the longest line of geese I have EVER seen. Not a care in the world, just trying to carefully step down from the curb and cross over.
We had to laugh, because really, what else can you do?
5. I get home and check my mail. Ooh, a package, love those! If it's from sister, that's good. If it's from mom, that's suspect.
Shit. It's from mom. Well, you never know.
Oh, but you do know, cuz it's mom. Inside I find a book titled "Wait For Me - Rediscovering the joy of purity in romance"
Great. Now I get to tell mom that I enjoy being unpure.
Shit.
Downers
I don't feel like anything's working these days. It's strange to be two separate people - one on the outside and another on the inside. I don't know what the fuck I want. Who am I, anyway? How do I decide?
It's as if everything for one part of me is working and nothing for the other part is. I feel I'm trying, and it's so disappointing when nothing comes of it. How do I initiate working cogs and turning wheels? How do I try harder?
I barely got sleep last night b/c of some stupid health issues that kept me squirming, trying to find comfort. I see the doctor Monday and am demanding every test available since their stupid explanation the last 2x is crap and the drugs they gave me the last 2x made not a whit of difference.
Then my sister already got mad at me this morning because she couldn't understand a word I said so after repeating it 2x I yelled it. "You don't have to be so mean to me. The connection is bad, I couldn't hear." You're right, I don't have to be so mean, I'm just a bitch. She tells me she misses me but I don't buy it because if it were true, she should do something about it and she won't.
Then dad annoyed me last night with his IMs - 'you need to do research on blah blah blah.' Oh, thanks, cuz I never thought of that. Guess it's time I started. 'No, I mean price research.' Again, thanks for the valuable tip. He asks why I'm getting upset; because you give me stupid directives like I'm 12 years old. He thinks I'm going to spend too much on a car but honestly, I'd spend more than what he thinks my limit is to get what I want. So there's that disappointment to deal with. Not disappointment, really, just...I don't know.
And mom, don't even get me started. Have I hunted Theology on Tap in my area? Um...what would ever make you think I had? My ever present interest in religion? Do you not know me at all? No. No, you don't.
I'm tired of being alone and I hate that realization. And don't fucking tell me I'll find someone, because you don't know that, now do you? No. No, you don't.
I'm pissy and my day has barely begun.
* Update *
Got settled in at work, reached for my yogurt to find that I brought sour cream. Not yogurt. Fuck.
Gah.
My brakes have been grinding lately. At first it was only when I used them, which was close to never, right? But then it became an all the time noise. Pleasant to the ear, of course. Not at all embarrassing.
So after begging a favor from BBB (not like I had to beg, he's a pretty giving guy) I called up the local CarX to make an appointment. Now CarX isn't great, as far as places go, but I figured it would be cheaper than the dealership. Not to mention, quite a bit more convenient in terms of location.
So, around 11:30 today, BBB follows me to the big yellow sign. Drop the car off, return to the office, where we have lunch (we each brought our lunches today, miracle of all miracles).
Louis gives me a call at 1:30 with a $600 quote.
Now, my car is mayyyyyyybe worth $600. On a good day. To a blind person. Who doesn't have the car inspected. But, I mean, you can't drive much without brakes, right? It's kind of frowned upon by the bastards who make the rules, right? Fine. $600 it is.
About 10 minutes later, BBB and R, the cute Russian dude we work with, storm me in my cube. R says no no no, why didn't you call me? I know a guy who owns a repair shop, he's known me since I was 3, he'll cut you a deal. Call CarX back and tell them to halt.
So I do. Louis sounds a little surprised, but that's okay. R calls his guy and has a conversation in Russian. Except for the words drum, shoes, rear, front, and pads. I guess there's no easy translation.
R hangs up and quotes me $400. Done.
BBB, however, tells me that I should just leave my car there for good and buy something new. Why am I so adverse to a new car? What is it going to take? My car is not safe to drive! He tells R it's held together with chicken wire and foil.
I get pissy. My car is far from perfect, but the only thing falling off of it is a little paint. It's 11 years old with over 150,000 miles on it. What the fuck do you expect? Besides, the car is completely safe. It may not be 100% mechanically sound, but it's far from the deathtrap he makes it out to be. Lay the fuck off.
I know he means well. And I know he's worried about me, and for me, and that's appreciated. And I know he's been a huge help in showing me cars, taking me around, giving me advice. But...lay the fuck off! When I find a car I like...then, and ONLY THEN, will I buy it!
It's now 2:30. R and I finish up at work; he and BBB offer me a ride in tomorrow morning. Since BBB actually gets in to work at an established time (R told me he would be there between 6 and 10am), BBB will call me when he leaves his place tomorrow morning and pick me up. Now I feel bad for being pissy.
R drives me back up to the big yellow sign, 10 minutes north of work, where I rescue my girl. I then follow him about 15 minutes south of work, to his friend's shop. After another conversation in Russian, we leave the car and R drives me home.
Sigh. I fucking hate this. It seems everyone at the office knows I am in need of a car, though some apparently feel it's an urgent need. I'm home-bound tonight, otherwise I would be out test driving. I looked this past weekend with dad, but one of the cars I wanted to try was only in stick, which I don't drive, and another that I wanted wasn't there. At all. Stupid dealership. It's really down to one or the other of those two. Since I haven't liked or been comfortable of any of the other 2-door, slightly sporty, within my price-range cars out there.
Have I mentioned that I fucking hate this? I will say, though, that I'm very appreciative I work in a place where I can leave when I need to without grief.
Why Me?
You might think that I joined a personals site just for the humor. You'd be wrong, but it is turning out to be an added bonus.
Tonight's excerpt brought to you by a hottie who just doesn't get it. As you can tell, I have little patience:
mitty3: hey pretty girl
KtP: um....himitty3: awawa now why you gotta be like that pretty young thing
KtP: because i have no idea who you are
KtP: name? age? kids? job? live with your parents?mitty3: 1 child
KtP: sorry, that's a dealbreaker for memitty3: thats mean we cant be friends
KtP: we can be friends, sure. but i won't date a guy with kidsmitty3: why]
KtP: i don't like themmitty3: that is mean
KtP: nope, it's honestmitty3: you hate kids
KtP: i didn't say i hate them. i just don't like themmitty3: see you never tryed
mitty3: so how can you say that
mitty3: you would even see my kid
KtP: i don't need to argue this.
mitty3: how tall are you
KtP: 5'4"mitty3: shorty
mitty3: oh that a dealbreaker for me
KtP: cool. take care.mitty3: hold on i was just playing
mitty3: god
mitty3: no sence of humor
mitty3: bro you are evil
KtP: then quit talking to me
Interruptus
Random little interruptions here before I get to the mom piece of my family bit. Aren't you glad I have a small family?
I received my walkman! Now I can listen to energizing music during my treadmill adventures instead of the seemingly unbreakable routine of commercials during the running parts and music during the walking parts.
I'm going out to VA to visit my gf in August. I'm slightly ticked at myself - flights were $53 cheaper on Friday. Damn it damn it damn it! I'm only going out there for a weekend - her company sucks, so she has little to no time off she can take. Damn it! That makes for a very expensive weekend. I haven't yet purchased my ticket; I keep hoping it will miraculously cheapen.
The whole personal-ad thing isn't working out as of yet. Fuck. I was all set to bash the ones who have contacted me that are specifically not what I've stated I'm into, but just double-checked and realized I hadn't set the specifications correctly. That would explain why I have an online stalker who's 25 and lives with his parents. He's nice enough, I suppose...but he's DULL! I hid from Yahoo last night but he found me on AOL. That will teach me. He got pretty defensive when I said someone who lives with his parents isn't my ideal. Dude, I know you're saving money. Dude, I know housing is expensive. Fucking suck it up and grow up. He tells me he loves his town, and when I ask why, he mentions that the high school is one of the best in the state. Good. Now give me reasons that actually make a difference to you.
Then there was the divorced guy with kids. I'm sure he's wonderful, but I'm not looking to take that on. I'm selfish enough without worrying about being unselfish enough to date, don't throw other people into the mix. That I had specified a non-divorced man without kids, too, ticked me off. Yes, sometimes looking outside the box helps. However, if you can't follow directions....
Do you understand better why I'm still single? :)
The search continues...
Family, Part Two
I was going to write about mom next, but I wrote something that triggered
Brighton, and then she wrote something that triggered me. So here's dad:
DadDad grew up an only child in New York but has not a trace of accent. His father was a lawyer and his mother was principal of a public school. I have a letter to her signed by Eleanor Roosevelt, one nice legacy she left. Dad was shipped off to summer camp every year til he was 12 - he guesses that's where he learned to swim. Dad doesn't often talk about his childhood - he 'doesn't remember' much. Probably because his childhood sucked. For reasons I don't know, his mom was a shitty mom. I don't think his dad was a bad parent, but he definitely deferred to his wife.
Dad spent summers at camp until he was shipped out to a family in Arizona for a time. Maybe just the summer, maybe longer. His parents only paid for braces on his top teeth, not his bottom, because his bottom teeth didn't show. Guess what? They show.
When my parents tried to buy their first house, they went to his mom to borrow the $1000 downpayment. Grandma's response was "If you can't pay for it yourselves, you can't afford it." She didn't give them the loan. They weren't able to buy the house.
As I said, Grandma was a principal for a NY public school. She rode her friend Stella's coattails quite a bit, Stella being quite wealthy. And she leaned on her friend Max, who was also rather rolling in the money. And maybe because of that, she managed to purchase two Manhattan apartments, a house in Pawling (sp?), and take multiple trips to China each year. Inside her fridge would be nothing but jams and jellies and usually the individual-sized ones from restaurants. She asked dad for his father's rings at one point after Grandpa's death...and then she sold them. Yeah, she was a gem.
Every time we moved was due to dad's job. I strugged for many years trying to reconcile love for him and hate for forcing me to move. Rather than take it out on him, I took it out on mom, who was at home with us. It wasn't easy being us for a while. Dad worked his way up through the years from photographer to writer to editor and then got his MBA part-time while working (sound familiar?) and became publisher of his newspaper. He was publisher in SI for 4 years before being transferred as publisher to a daily paper in NoDak. Then, my senior year in high school - three years later - we found out he was being transferred to Wisconsin, as a publisher for a different paper.
Dad cares about doing a good job. He's made a difference. The most 'famous' story he wrote was one that got someone freed from prison who was there on a bum charge. He gets involved with the communities he's in. In NoDak, he instituted a 'Jeans Day' event at the paper - every Friday (or the last Friday of every month, something) - people could pay $1 to wear jeans, and all the money would go to charity. The response was phenomenal. And of course, dad refused to take the credit. It was the first of its kind around and is still in existence now, 10yrs later.
Dad retired in the fall of '98. I remember my sister telling me on the phone. (Why would you think he'd tell me himself?) His company had been letting a lot of people in his position go and he left just before he was forced to. The company seemed to be getting rid of those who were doing the job but had been there for some time. As a result of that, he's a little bitter. He still lives in the same town as the paper where he last worked, and it's been hard for him to see what he worked so hard at being torn to shit by the people running it now - the misspellings and incorrect facts, the weak stories, the errors...of course, this is the party line I'm spewing. :)
Dad, in spite of having crappy parents...is generous to a fault. He makes sure I know that should I need it, money is available to me, and gives a generous gift to each of us kids yearly. His thought is that he'd rather us have it now, when we might need it, then get it years later when we aren't as in need. He offers help at every chance he can. When I mentioned I was looking for end tables for my living room, he shopped around with me, learned what I liked, and built me two. Not EXACTLY what I wanted, but darn close, and free to me. He found a way to hang curtains in my living room and bedroom - not because I needed them, but because I wanted them, and because the blinds didn't make traditional curtains feasible. Time, help, money, whatever, he offers, and gladly.
His weekly Rotary meetings have a time for 'proud money' donations, where members can throw some money into the pot if their company has done well, if they've been promoted, etc. Dad threw money in when us kids graduated from college and grad school; when I got promoted; when my sister got married. As he told me once on the subject, "I knows what's important, and that's family, not the crappy jobs we all have."
Dad encourages my travelling expeditions and spent three months touring Europe on a Vespa a few years back. He's been bored since he retired; bored and antsy. He's got his theater guild, his charter school board meetings, his reading group...but he's bored. He's been talking lately of another Vespa trip to foreign lands; frankly, I don't think he can handle it. He's getting older; his hearing is going, his memory is fading. I don't know how many times I had to answer the same question this weekend (or how many times I had to repeat the answer, which is slightly different). I worry about him. He's so excited about what I'm doing, and part of it is pride and care, but I think part of it is the lack of anything 'new' in his world.
I've always been closer to Poppa Peon than to mom. Partly because we're a lot alike - we're both stoic and stubborn and don't like talking about our emotions. I also get my depression from him. It wasn't until I fessed up about being on anti-depressants that he began even thinking about them. We're the ones who hide our tears at a sad movie. We're more likely to say 'I don't remember' than answer a tough question. We're the pragmatic ones. It's hard, as I grow into adulthood, to make my own choices, because there are times when I still want and need his approval. And the older I get, the more I know he appreciates that, even as he knows he's raised me to make my own good decisions.
Family, Part One
Since I've written a little about family lately, I've received some questions about my interactions with them. Thought I'd expand upon that a bit, but then I wrote far too much about my sister to include everything here. Look for Mom and Dad to come later.
SisterShe's 3.5 yrs older than I am and in a lot of ways, we couldn't be more different. She spends her free time running others political campaigns and wants to run her own at some point; I haven't voted in all the presidential elections I've been eligible for. She often complains about the 'little things;' I try not to. She's a socialist do-gooder; I'm, well...I'm a corporate peon and a shameless capitalist.
Growing up, I was always the social one and she was always the studious one. I had a boyfriend at 14; she graduated high school with high honors. Even now, she graduated law school with high honors; I graduated grad school. That was accomplishment enough for me. She was, at one time, fluent in French and speaks decent Spanish. I have no ear for languages. Her idea of fun is an activist parade; I'd rather shop for shoes.
She was branded 'the feminist' by dad when she was younger. Now, when I look at books on women's studies, I get told that those are 'her' books.
She currently leads a neighborhood law office that's tied to the university, offering legal advice and services to those who can't afford them. She believes firmly that helping one person is a small but necessary start. I see helping one person as not helping thousands of others. She's worked for non-profits and done policy reform work for W2, Wisconsin's poverty act.
Her comment to me about paying for her work was slightly tongue-in-cheek. I make more than she does and have for the past few years. She has her dream job; I'm working towards my dream paycheck. She, of course, finds all sorts of ways for me to spend my money, whereas I'm a little bit more frugal than she. That must be because it's my money.
She's always been my big sister in every definition of that term. She sends me cards when she thinks I need a pick-up. After one visit home from college, she left me little 'love notes' in random spots throughout my room. We talk almost every day. I used to wear her clothes and jewelry and break them, and though she never liked that, in the end, it was always okay. She never gave me her ID when I wasn't 21, because she didn't drink much at the time and never did when she was underage, so why would she aid and abet me?
She inflicts some guilt on herself for not seeing the 'rents that much, and I alternately try to dissuade that and heap it on. Yes, she has a much fuller social calendar and yes, it's not quite as easy for her to pack up and head home for the weekend. Not to mention, because of the distance, it's a lot easier for me to go for just a night, whereas for her, it doesn't make sense. (I live one hour away; she lives just over two.) I get that. I also think that our parents are getting up in age, and we should try to indulge where we can. Mom was kind of hurt that she wasn't there for her birthday.
Through it all, though, she's always one of the first people I call with good news or bad. She lets me be moody and silly and tries to help in every way she knows how. She is one of my biggest supporters, even though she doesn't really 'get' me all the time, and I am one of her biggest fans, as long as she leaves my paycheck out of this.
Rental Units
I spent the weekend with the parents. Mom's bday was Saturday, and being the good daughter*, I went up there. Made a cake and everything.
We didn't do that much; went to a festival downtown Friday night. Dad is really big on the festivals. Me, not so much. This weekend was the
Dragon Boat Festival. A long canoe is decorated like a dragon and then teams race. Yippee! We got there just in time for the parade on Friday, but half-way through, one of the entries took a detour from the parade route, which meant that the rest of the entries followed. Ah, comedy.
We ate fair food - mmmm - and dad plied me with beer, much to mom's chagrin.
Saturday we were down there for lunch and watched some of the races. Dad plied me with beer, still to mom's chagrin.
I went for a paddle-boat ride with mom on Saturday. They have their own; there's a small pond behind their house. Mom always tries to get me out there with her, and I generally refuse, but since it was her birthday...We bird-watched and laughed a bit. I have little to no patience with mom most of the time, but I tried to restrain that since it was her birthday. I won't say I succeeded, but...
We went out for dinner that night, where I had a yummy alcoholic drink and some of dad's beer, much to mom's chagrin. The waitress dropped dad's ribs and we had seating trouble. Ah, comedy.
Sunday, we went to an open house that was miserable and then a plant shop. Then we went to a local church fair. Have you ever heard of a meat raffle?
Yeah, me either. But they had one. No, I didn't enter. Dad was all set to ply me with beer, but since we had seen the entire festival in about 10 minutes, I declined.
Had mom's pot roast for dinner - mmm - and came home with leftovers. Nothing too exciting this weekend, nothing too bland.
* My sister says I'm the good daughter, since I see the folks about once a month and she doesn't. Nevermind that I'm an hour away and that she's 2x that far; never mind that she has a hubby and two large dogs and an actual social life. So no, she didn't come down this weekend, and is apparently making herself feel guilty about it. Do I think she needs to spend more time with them? Yes. Do I know that it's hard? Yes. Whatever. This so isn't the point here.
Verbatim
Sister: I hate my job
KtP: Oh, honey, really? But you just started this new role!
S: I know. And I don't like it. Everyone comes to me for answers and I don't know!
KtP: There's nothing wrong with telling them, "Good question, let me get back to you." or "Let me double-check, I'll let you know tomorrow."
S: I know. But I can't do that all the time!
KtP: True.
S: Maybe I'll just do policy work and public reform work for a living
KtP: Only if you expect to make shit.
S: Yeah. Sigh. But I'm not making shit now.
KtP: No, but you can live on what you make now. There's a difference. And would you really want to do that kind of work for a living?
S: I can't believe my sister is a corporate whore.
KtP: Yep. I actually call myself that at times.
S: Actually, I keep hoping that would work for me. When you're really rolling in it you can bankroll my public reform works.
KtP: Uhhhh...right. That's assuming I would.
S: Yeah, I keep hoping you will. I keep hoping you'll grow a heart.
KtP: Yeah? Let me know how that turns out.
How Much Is Too Much?
One pair gold earrings
One gold watch
Two gold necklaces
Two gold ankle bracelets
Three gold rings
Seven gold bracelets
All on one woman!
I'm jewelry deficient - if I wear earrings and a necklace at the same time, I'm dressed up. But damn, man - all her bling is blinding!
Not to mention, if you were going to an outdoors summer picnic, would you wear a white linen dress? (Pup, I know YOU would, but I'm asking everyone else.) I just don't get it.
And yes, I am the fashion police today! I feel cute in my short denim skirt. So pfft!
Shameless Bragging
Okay, so there's a little shame here. I feel I brag quite a bit - my life really is pretty darn good, you know. But, since it's my site and my pregorative...here goes.
My old boss's boss just called me in to her office. Seems she put me in for a performance bonus, which is generally a lump sum amount as a reward for really going above and beyond. This is only the second I've ever received; the first was last year, and after taxes, it ended up being just under $500. This one will be a little bit more than that - enough, perhaps, for three car payments?
The write-up that was the support for the request was very, very generous. Boss's boss had my old boss help with the fact-finding; they felt that they threw me into quite a bit of clean-up work, some shark-infested waters, and continuously changed things - since I started with the division, we've gained one employee (New Girl) and lost three others - and guess who picked up the bulk of their work?
To me, it's all just a matter of doing my job and trying to do it well, but it's very nice to see that others a) appreciate it, b) recognize hard work, c) recognize tough situations, and that d) going above and beyond can be rewarded.
This is especially nice today; I've been very frustrated. SRG is on my last nerve; I just don't understand how one can do so little and do it so poorly and be okay with it. But, not my worry, and certainly not my issue. I've also been toying with the idea of looking elsewhere for work, out of boredom, but came to the conclusion that my company is really pretty top-notch and I'd be a fool to leave. This cements that, which is nice affirmation.
Desperation & Addiction - Updated
I swore, after the last time, that I wouldn't do it again. After all the bad experiences, rejections, assholes, and plain boring dates, I told myself I would never again sign up for an online dating service.
Turns out, I lied to myself. Those poor guys don't know what they're getting themselves into.
And now, I find myself running to the website to check for new messages every five minutes. Of which there are none.
I can already tell this was $19.95 thrown to the wolves.
*** Update ***
I just told 'Lady'sman' that we're not a good fit. He can't spell; he's 30 and lives with his parents. I might be desperate, but I'm trying to hold onto some semblance of standards.
And yes, you can call me shallow.
Full Circle
I've been struggling a bit again lately. Yes, the m-word exists, but not for me right now. No, you don't get to know why.
So where's the ad?
I'm just not understanding things lately, and I want to, so if you can explain anything to me, please feel free.
Not to mention, I always feel I need to learn everything immediately - no learning curve for the Peon! She's SuperWoman! (or at least likes to pretend she is)
The words just aren't the same these days.
Memories
Some of the best times turn stupid when you look back on them. Sometimes you just have to ask yourself, "What the FUCK were you thinking?"
My best friend, Liz, had a party after our high school graduation. The fun was at her dad's lakeside cabin in Podunk, NoDak. She handed maps out to everyone and we expected a good turnout.
Us girls and our various boyfriends got out to the cabin early. We had liquor with us, of course, and some to share, but it was largely BYOB. During the day, we took the boat out and lounged around. Played some pool; drank. People started coming by at all stages of the day.
Liz's dad had said that if people drank, they needed to surrender their keys, which he then put on a long length of chain and locked up. He kept that chain with him in his car, which he slept in that night, down by the entrance to the driveway.
We partied like rock stars for a good portion of the night. Once things settled down a bit, people scattered to their various beds. People brought tents, and I'm sure there was quite a bit of shagging going on in the outdoors that night. By pure luck, I snagged the last empty bedroom for myself. It was right off of the hottub room, in the basement. Nice and dark, clean queen bed.
Brian - was that his name? - crept into the room soon after I had crawled under the covers. We had met that night, which was strange, as he was a friend of Liz's bf, who I was close to - and hit it off. He held up his sleeping bag and asked if I'd be okay with him sleeping on the floor.
Au contraire! I made a deal with him to share the bed, and soon after, we started gettin' our groove on.
After an appropriate amount of time, we fell asleep, snuggled together, as the night air was rather chilly. I was pretty damn content, despite the constant noise from the hottub. People were still enjoying the water and their beer, and were randomly throwing bottles around. Despite that, I slept soundly until I heard the swearing from just outside the room.
Seems Lance had climbed out of the hottub to use the bathroom upstairs. On his way back down, he noticed a big pile of glass on the ground. He jumped over that pile only to slice his toe off on the pile he landed on.
That's right. He sliced part of his big toe off.
I heard the commotion and walked out of my bedroom. Everyone who was awake was mostly drunk and thus, incompetent. I wasn't much better myself: I didn't realize at the time that part of the toe was missing; I just realized that he was bleeding quite a bit. Like that scene in 'Die Hard,' where my hubby Bruce is dragging his bleeding foot into the bathroom and pulling glass hards from it. That's what I had to deal with. Well, I thought, if we can't stop the bleeding, at least we can stop it from getting everywhere, right?
I got Lance positioned on his back in the bathroom, toe dripping into the toilet. I stayed with Lance, trying to get the fucker to stay awake. I held stupid conversations with him, shook him, anything, just so he wouldn't pass out. He started complaining of the cold, so I brought him a sweatshirt of mine.
I got someone else to stay with Lance and got down on my hands and knees, scrubbing blood from the steps. Eventually people started waking up, and I said fuck it - I was cold and tired and wanted Brian's arms around me again. So back to bed I went.
When I woke up again a few hours later, people were convincing Lance to be taken to the hospital. They put his foot in a plastic bag, since it was still bleeding, and wrapped his toe in...well, in something, and his friend drove away. I think they managed to reattach the toe; he was on crutches for a while, but eventually healed. And I got my sweatshirt back on the day we moved; I still have it.
My girls and I (and our boyz) stayed out at the cabin for another day or so, enjoying the freedom and fun.
Turns out, Lance's parents sued Liz's dad for medical expenses. Nice, eh? Coulda been a whole lot worse, though...
Stupid Lance, ruining a perfectly good, somewhat illegal party.
Cue the Weekend
Left work early today; came home and snoozed in between episodes of 'Pimp My Ride.' They would so make my car dope, yo. They would, like, shizzle up my hoopty and make it ghetto fabulous, bizatch.
So, after lounging around Casa Peon for a couple hours, being lazy, I decided to get off my duff and run some errands. You know - Bed, Bath, & Beyond, even though they never label the 'beyond' section clearly; Home Depot, so I can wander around and not be helped or greeted by anyone, and the grocery store.
Being the smart little shopper that I am, the grocery store - the local Dominicks, if you really care - was my last stop of the day, and I knew exactly what I was going to get.
If you're open to it, you can learn valuable lessons in the mundane of life. For instance, today I learned that you can get a good vibe on people by looking at what they're buying. You can figure out some of their plans, whether they have kids, pets, or live alone. You can't be obvious about staring at their goodies, but if you're good - like moi - you can surreptitiously scope the snacks.
I took a look at what the woman in front of me was buying. She had a couple bags of Doritos (Nacho Cheese), a bottle of margarita mix, a big bottle of soda (I'm thinking, mixer), a bag of cherries...yep, she was obviously having a small summer soiree. Junk food, liquor, and yummy fruit - my kinda lady.
The guy in the lane to my left had beer and nothing but. None of this Bud shit they serve down south, either - Miller Lite all the way. Ohhhh, yeah. My kinda man.
And then I looked at what I was purchasing. This wasn't a heavy duty grocery trip; I was just picking up a few things for the weekend. Essentials. Necessities, you might say.
Pepperoni pizza. Frosted sugar cookies. Beer. Batteries.
I'd tell you that the batteries are for a portable CD player, but you wouldn't believe me anyway.
Have a good weekend, kids!
