How can you watch 'I Love the 80s' (any episode) and not have a crush on Hal Sparks? I loved him on 'Queer as Folk,' more so when I found out he's a straight actor playing a gay man, and his sense of humor on VH1 continues to crack me up.
I turned the corner in my apartment's parking lot today and saw a bloddy mummy walking the dog. Crazy kids...
There will be some changes soon at work that, while they don't directly impact me, should have a good indirect impact on me. Coming soon...
I held the elevator this morning for a guy on my floor. He was the stereotypical nerd - pants too short, hair too gelled, eyes too beady. However, there is a girl I keep running into who seems fun. I complimented her on her purse, then the next day she on mine, and we talked shoes for a minute. Next time I see her I'm so introducing myself and making a friend.
I returned three things to TJ MAXX yesterday - two with receipts, one without. The manager had to approve the return of the receipt-less item; apparently, they all go into the system now (name, address, license number, etc) and if you have too many receipt-less returns, they'll stop accepting them from you. I felt like a total criminal when the manager was explaining it to me.
I've been drooling lately over the idea of having my own house. I have tentatively said I want that to become reality by my 30th birthday, but that's only b/c I think 30 is too old to rent, unless you're in, like NYC where houses don't exactly come cheaply. They don't here, either, but once I get my big equity adjustment I'll so be able to afford it. Ah, I slay me...And yes, I could probably afford it now if I stopped travelling, buying shoes, and bought a used car rather than new...but I don't want to do that. Yes I want it all, is that so wrong?!?!
I may be finishing the roll of film in my camera tonight so I can then take the camera in to be looked at. I'm pretty sure some sand got inside during my trip to Costa Rica, and I'd kind of like that remedied, before Turkey, if possible.
BBB has been saying semi-suggestive things lately that I completely shoot down:
KtP: Morning, how are you?
BBB: Better now that I'm talking to you
KtP: Does that line actually work on intelligent females? or
KtP: Um...ick or
KtP: Oh my god, seriously? or
KtP: Jesus christ, what do you want?
I'm not mean when I respond, but he's got to learn that you don't flirt with the Peon, turn her down, date your ex-gf, and still try to have a flirty relationship with the Peon. It's just not gonna happen.
Today's on its way to being another boring, slow day here in CubeLand. Have a good one, folks!
Shut Your Cake Hole!
Once upon a time, KtP went to the Green County Cheese Days
with her sister, BIL, and sister's friend. Much cheese was edam (too much of a stretch?), much sunshine soaked up, and many mini-cheesecakes on a stick eatin (but not by me, cuz cheesecake is just a plain waste of cheese. And cake.). I chose to gorge myself on the fried cheese curds and free samples. Oh, and beer.
On the way home, we drove through the Willy Street Festival, which is a little neighborhood summertime fest near my sister's casa. It looked like many frattish-type boys were enjoying the day and the fest and the people mingling that takes place at such events. Oh, and the beer.
Walking on the sidewalk on my side of the street was a man, lurching in what suggested was a rather drunkenly manner. On his head was a colorful balloon hat. As we were slightly behind him, all we could see was his lurch and his purty hat.
As we pulled up parallel to him, I yelled out, "Whooo hoooo! Nice freakin' hat, buddy!" or something equally lame and semi-insulting and completely juvenile.
And as we drove past the man, we all realized that he wasn't a drunken frat boy. Oh, no. Rather, he was a mentally and physically challenged man (is that the PC term?), probably on his way home from a nice day at the fair, with a nice new hat to show off.
Neither sister, BIL, nor sister's friend have let me live that down, and nor should you.
...and I ain't got shit to do!
No meetings today. Only one or two things to follow-up on. I have, of course, been using my downtime wisely.
Looking at houses online. Looking at shoe storage online (I'm not enamored with any I've found, but I do love the idea. Must...keep...looking). Looking into what I'd like to see/do in Turkey. Looking at entertainment centers online (this, much like the car search, is taking me forever. I finally found a center that I liked, could afford, and would work, only to then read the fine print and realize it's 4' tall. Nuh-uh, not gonna work.)
Oh, and I've been admiring my new shoes. They're black and silver mules with a little black bow and they're adorable, though despite my searching, no pictures could be found. My friend at work, E, loathes them, but then she's wearing, like, Eastlands, so how can her opinion really count?
I've decided I like little bows on my shoes. Each of yesterday's three new pairs has one. One of the new pairs from Sunday (the leopard print pair, rrrr!) has one.
Oh, and remember those glass beads
I made earlier in the month? I had NO idea what to do with them, so I did what anyone else would do - shipped them off to Nanner
and had her string them for me.
And oh. my. GODDESS!!!! It is SUCH a beautiful necklace! Seriously awed, folks. Perfect length, style, weight...it rocks. As does she.
Perhaps I'll take actual pictures this weekend for your viewing pleasure.
Have a good one, kids!
Much like the Chicago-area television news programs, the (majority) of the Chicago-area morning radio shows suck. You've got Billy*
, two rapidly aging white men who run the hip-hop station's morning show. They're in their 40s, I'm guessing, and hold contests looking for Chicago's Hottest High School Cheerleader! and have this annoying 'love connection' segment where Marge McDouche**
tries to suss out the caller's love interest's true feelings.
They're not even crude enough to be funny. But you can hear all the 50 Cent you want, all day long! Actually, the new (and seemingly only) song on repeat now is "Golddigger." I'd like to say that's because Kanye is from Chicago and they're supporting local talent...but I know better.
Next there's the 'mainstream pop' radio station. They used to have a great morning DJ, Valentine. Now, however, they have Dull***
Dull is one of the most flaming-sounding men ever. Whether he's actually gay or not, I don't care, but it doesn't make for a smooth listening experience. His cohort, Duller, is an abrasive, crude woman with a booming voice. She sounds more manly than he does. Their segments usually consist of bathroom humor, picking on each other, and arguing amongst themselves.
Every morning, I wish for my new car with it's six-disc in-dash CD changer. Every morning, I'm thankful for my short commute.
At any rate, one of the stations this morning was having callers discuss whether they liked their breasts or not. One woman caller said before her breast reduction, she was a 34DDD.
I've always said that I'd like to be that about size for, like, a weekend. Yes, I know it would cause back pain over time. Yes, I know it would be hard to find bras/shirts/dresses/bathing suits that fit. Yes, I know that guys would talk to them rather than to my face.
I still think the attention would be fun for a day or two. I slut out my pathetic-by-comparison size Ds often enough, it'd be fun to have some REAL meat to play with.* Names have been changed to protect the boring, annoying, and too-old-for-their-demographics DJs
** Unfortunately, that is the actual name of the 'woman' (who's actually one of the DJs using a stupid voice)
*** Names have been changed to protect the boring, annoying, and unfunny
It never even occurred to you that you might be part of the problem. It never even crossed your little mind.
I'm not offended by that; instead, I'm ashamed of your ego.
You may think you're innocent, but I know better.
So far today...which I misspelled at first, so it read 'so fart oday,' which is funny only because the conversation on the way back from lunch involved farting dogs, kids, and in-laws (as in, farting kids and farting in-laws. Was that clear?).
Yes, so. Where was I.
So far today...I got in just shy of 9:30. I spent at least 30 minutes talking with coworker/friend E and coworker/boss-with-a-dotted-line S. We basically traded gossip, talked about other people, and were very very silly.
I scheduled one meeting for next Wednesday.
I've sent 16 emails, four of which were to BBB, one of which was to my dad.
I left my homemade lunch in the drawer and went out to Subway and CostCo for an hour-and-a-half.
I've checked all of your blogs at least twice.
I spent another 15 minutes talking with E about some changes that might impact me, and how I can shine through them.
So, let's see. It's now 1pm. I've been at the office for 3.5 hours. 1.5 of that time was lunch; at least .5 of the remaining time was social.
Yawn. Is it nap time yet?
You don't understand. You don't understand. You just don't understand.
That's all that keeps going through my head. I don't even feel I have the energy to explain it to you. Partially because I don't feel I can, partially because I don't feel you want me to. Partially because it's so fucking stupid that it doesn't bear explaining.
And partially because it just really doesn't matter anymore.
I mean, sure, it does to me, obviously. But I'm not sure it should.
Tomorrow marks six months, and I still can't let a day go by without thinking of it. What I hate perhaps more than the daily reminders is the presumed fact that you don't have them.
Flip the Switch
It's like someone flipped my inner toggle and now I'm back to the depressed, angry, cryptic girl I was a few months ago. I don't know why or when, but there's definitely been a shift in my attitude during the past week. I'm lethargic; I'm lazy; I lack motivation to clean, cook, put things away, run... I always read in bed before turning out the light; last night, I had about 3 pages left in the magazine but found myself dropping it from sheer exhaustion.
I was cooking dinner naked (tmi?) last night and set the smoke detector off. I couldn't for the life of me get the damn thing to stop squawking; it went on for so long I pulled my bathrobe on, afraid my maintenance guy-neighbor would come knocking. I pulled the battery out and like the episode of Friends I watched yesterday (how prophetic), the damn thing kept beeping at me. I was near tears. There's no reason to be as upset as I was.
I'm fighting it as best I can: tonight I'll be listening to music while I cook and bake.
I don't know if it's because the weather has suddenly turned cold; I don't know if it's because I'm mentally unstimulated for 8 hours at work; I don't know if it's because just because I cycle through periods of depression, and oh look! it's time for another one.
I don't know the reasons behind it, but it sucks.
How it happened, I don't know. The whens and whys of it are just as questionable. But at some point, I joined a community of bloggers. And sometimes, I regret it. These people come out of nowhere and they start to get to know you because you post extremely personal things and you start to feel as if they're friends, people you can trust, people who want what's best for you. And sure, maybe they do. Maybe they'll ship you $20 when life gets hard or send you a card when your man dumps you. Or maybe they're just voyeurs and are enjoying themselves with your life, but are really only in it for themselves. And really, why shouldn't they be? Why shouldn't they pick sides - their chosen side being themselves, of course. Who doesn't put themselves over others? No matter how much I might like you, I'm still going after my own interests first. That might be your man, your job, or your new shirt, but I can have the best weekend ever with you and still come home to look out for #1. I might want to stay in touch and I might still care, but if you piss me off I'm still going to want to write about you, and I'll regret that I don't have that option anymore. And you still only know as much about me as I let you.
Cheese & Whine (without the cheese)
There is a big lull in my workload. I talked to the woman I'm reporting up to now (a dotted-line relationship...how corporate-speak is that?) on Thursday. She knows there is a lull and unfortunately, can't do much about it now. I told her that I will come in at 9 and leave at 4 and not feel guilty about that, and she was fine with it. I'm still fighting pangs of guilt, though I know that's silly. I'm doing the work I have, there's just not much of it.
I would much rather be too busy than not busy enough.
So I've spent all day today reading your sites (sorry about the multiple hits, stat freaks
), reading Tripso.com archives, and wishing I had brought all my fun new recipes from Cooking Light into work so I could make my ingredient list and go grocery shopping after work.
Not to mention, I've been thinking and writing, which is never a good combination. Yes, the Peon is a little depressed these days. I'm disappointed that I can't seem to talk to or be understood by my sister; I'm disappointed that a good friend had her daughter's first bday party this weekend and there's no way I can be a part of that (b/c of distance); I'm disappointed about my car; I'm disappointed that I was stood up and that I'm even attempting online dating AGAIN and that I even feel I have to go that route; I'm disappointed that things that happened so long ago still have such an impact on me; I'm disappointed that when my sister asked me who I was hanging out with these days I had to say "um...no one" and that she actually asked the question when she knows what my life is like and then I feel she's all pity-y towards me.
Basically, I'm having a pity party of my own. Good thing it's almost time for me to go home.
This weekend was spent at my sister's in Madison, where much shopping was done (a skirt, 2 pair shoes, two tops, a necklace, a scarf, tights, nylons, and a not-slobby sweat pant outfit). And as almost always when I spend time with my sister, I walk away extremely frustrated and misunderstood.
We constantly make the mistake of misinterpreting everything the other does or says. She told me I should get a travel pillow, or ear plugs, or a sleep mask for Turkey. I said no. What I should have said was that I've travelled enough to know that I don't need those items, rather than just saying 'no' in that "bitch tone you always use." I thought just saying no would convey that.
I told her of the friend who's getting divorced because her husband cheated on her. Per the wife, there were signs even when they were dating and they shouldn't have ever gotten married; I told my sister that I didn't know why, then, they did. That was judgemental of me and harsh.
She asked about BBB; I said he was dating his ex, even though he had told me he wasn't in the right 'place' for a relationship. When I said I would have rather he be upfront as opposed to apparently lie, that was because I don't know how hard it can be or what was really going on.
I refused to see the house they've made an offer on. Their offer was countered, which they then countered, which was then refused. However, it seems the owners may provide a new offer, thus reopening negotations. I don't see the point in viewing a house that they may not ever live in. "Wow, this is a great house. I can totally see you in it. Sorry there's nothing I can do to help you actually LIVE here." Yes, I could have seen it to appease her, but I feel I'm always giving in.
We went out to dinner Friday after my torturous drive there; after dinner, we stopped by a friend's birthday party at a bar. She felt she 'had' to go, but "just for one drink." One pitcher, rather. I'm not comfortable around the vast majority of her friends: I'm a capitalist corporate whore who has no personal life to speak of. They're all do-gooders and environmentalists and on political committees and interested in things I know nothing of. Which isn't anyone's fault, just a fact. I feel stupid around them because I can't contribute or necessarily even find their interests interesting.
So then I sit there feeling all fakey and afterwards get reamed by my sister for not being nice. You knew I didn't want to go in the first place; I smiled and made small talk and didn't interrupt or rush you, and that still isn't good enough?
She feels I don't understand her; she's right, but I'm trying. When I asked about one area of her life, she didn't want to talk about it. Well, okay, just don't expect me to understand what I don't know.
It's extremely frustrating and though there's more to say, I don't want to say it right now.
What you said: Not different, just better
What I heard: Much, much better, and only slightly different
She wants to get her master's.But I have my master's!
She's had bad luck with guys.Okay, yeah, that I can understand.
She's at the point where she doesn't trust them, where she wants to use them before she gets used.Yeah, I can definitely identify with that. How nice that she has you to save her from that. Wait. No, not nice at all. Totally fucks me up, but at least she gets saved, right?What do you want from me? You want me to ask for help? Fine. I need help. Happy now? No? Yeah, me neither.
When did I become the kind of girl I hate?
I know you want to have kids. You've always wanted to be a mom, you've always known you would be. There's no doubt that you'll be a great mother.
I just don't understand why you want to have kids with your husband.
You told me yourself - he thinks breastfeeding is disgusting. He doesn't want a baby, he wants a toddler. He doesn't want you to get fat or to gain weight. He'll be fine with the kid once it's, say, two years old. He's not thrilled with the idea of having something whiny and cry-y and wet around, 24-7.
So do you really think making him a father is such a good idea?
It's true that I've never thought he's good enough for you. But you seem to be happy, and even though your husband is a whiny, juvenile, selfish, anti-social guy, your happiness is my first concern.
I'm sorry that I can't get on board with your pending motherhood. And I hope you forgive me for silently crossing my fingers in hope that he's not allowed to procreate.
Stand & Gobble
I believe I was stood up tonight. Someone better have a damn good excuse.
I'm back in the shitty world of online dating. Ryan, who looks cute from his pic and seems normal, was supposed to meet me for a drink tonight after his class.
Which means I didn't drink after work. And I didn't work out after work. I sat around and looked at porn and watched TV and wasted about 3 hours.
And then, even though 9:30 is later than I wanted, I was at the bar. Waiting.
I think a guy who used to be a very very good friend of mine was there, but I didn't catch his eye on purpose, because I was embarrassed about sitting there alone. If strangers see me, I don't care, but a little embarrassing to explain to an old fling who is now married to an old friend.
I had one beer there and am now on my second of the night.
Turkey is set. November 30th through December 11th, dad, BIL and I will be in Turkey. Yay!
BIL has spent a considerable amount of time in that country and speaks the language; he really has no interest in visiting other places. I'm going because, well, I can. Dad is going because he's retired and bored.
No set itinirary; there probably won't ever be one.
Update on the car: The original guy is going to call me when he has a 'for sure for sure' date. In November.
I'm not a super happy girl tonight.
Oh My Fucking GOD - Updated
Finally talked to my salesguy. Very helpful when I do get him online. Said it won't be until November (most likely the first full week, which is 2+ from here) until they get it.
Said there's a dealership about 45 minutes from me that has the exact car but won't trade it to his [salesguy's] dealership. Gave me their number, told me I could pick up the deposit check I had held, since that was never cashed (long story).
I call the new place. Old guy doesn't think they have the car. "What do they call that red? Is it Sunburst Red?" I told him that he works there and I don't know.
I'm now waiting for him to call me back.
Jesus Fucking CHRIST on a STICK.
** Update **
Arnie didn't call back, but some other fuckstick did. Yes, they have the car I want in stock, however, it's a demo with 3000 miles on it.
No. I want a brand fucking new car.
Well, they can order it for me, and try to get it here faster than the original dealership. One could be scheduled for drop-off there tonight! The guy is checking and will get back to me.
I'm so fucking out of my mind LIVID. Is this run-around all because I'm a chick???
Guy from the 'new' dealership called me back. They don't have it, but can order it, and the price he quoted is one grand over what the first dealership quoted me.
I tell him that, said thanks but I'll stick with the first guys, and this new guy is going to keep his eyes open and let me know if they get one and what they can do price-wise, b/c of course he's not the one to actually set the price.
I am going out drinking tonight. Who's in?
1. I got my hair(s) cut last night. It looks cute. Compliments were received today.
2. I talked to the woman I'm reporting to for the duration of my rotation about my workload today. I'm bored, and that's never a good thing. I have a few projects that aren't any trouble, one project that is going to be NASTY, and then two more that are temporarily on hold, so...load me up! I might get to work on some tangled issues that are really important but b/c they're so fucked up, no one wants them or does anything when they have them. That will be good, to make a difference in that.
3. I spent over two hours doing housework tonight. YUCK! Seven loads of laundry are now hanging up (or in the case of my undies and bras, shoved into a drawer). I apparently have a shitload of clothes. Clean new sheets are on my bed - I splurged and bought 400 thread-count. The dishwasher has been unloaded and loaded again. Kitchen counters and stove were scrubbed, even though I just dirtied the stove later when I made dinner, which was then eaten and the leftovers ready for lunch tomorrow. Whew.
4. Apparently my BIL did such a good sell job that my dad is now going to Turkey with us. I have to admit, I'm a little disappointed. No smoking for me! More importantly, though, I'll feel I have to watch dad. His mental capacity has been on my mind as of late, and he seems to have lost some of his social filters. It's just an element of the trip I didn't want to have to deal with.
Not to mention, I'll have trouble feeling like an adult. I've always been daddy's girl, and I think he'll have trouble letting me be. At the same time that I don't want him to come, I think it will be good for him.
Not to mention, I FUCKING HATE how he tells me what I 'need' to do. "What you need to do is..." when it's either NOTHING I need or WANT to do, or something I've already done. Fucking let me live my life. (Sorry. He's IMing me now and pissing me off.)
5. My fucking car salesman is out on Tuesdays, so no news on that front. I am so not happy but also have too large a filter to really go off on his worthless ass. He'll know I'm unhappy, but he won't feel my full wrath.
6. I have an official new blog crush, and it has nothing to do with the free promo he gave me. Yeah, you know who you are. Let the torridness begin.
It's About that Time
For those of you keeping track here in CubeLand, it's been 6 months since I've last gone on a trip.
I know what you're thinking: "You nuts, Peon! You went to NoDak in September! I ain't that stupid, sucka!"
And once you get past your initial anger, you'll think "You dumb ho! You also went to Virginia in August! Suck it!"
And just when you start to really wail on me, you'll remember that I went to Costa Rica in April and maybe - just maybe - that's the kind of trip I'm talkin' about.
See, about every six months I start getting anxious. Really bored, listless, fidgety. I start to feel angry again, about everything and nothing. I start to get unhappy with myself and my situation. A quick fix (notice, I didn't say 'cure') is to go somewhere. I start to leaf through travel books at the store; I'm a regular at online travel sites. I start to question where others have gone and area going. And then I buy a ticket of my own.
Plans are shaping up for Turkey in early December. Travelers will include my brother-in-law and myself, and possibly (but god I hope not), my father. Timeframe is 10 days.
More details to come later.
Just Call Me Veruca Salt
My very first car was a red Sunbird - I think it was a '93. I had some inheritance from my grandmother, so with my approval, dad bought the car for me - without me even seeing it. It was a few weeks shy of college graduation.
It was a great car. No tape deck and no cruise control, though, which made the one trip to NoDak it went on pretty painful. About 2 months after I got that car, a bitch in a minivan ran a red light and totalled it.
All of that lead to the purchase of my current baby, a 94 Saturn. $5000. And over the 6 years that I've had it, I've put at least $2500 into it. I don't even remember all of the things I've had fixed on it, but I do know that I could take it in to any shop today, and pour about $2000 into it. The muffler (that's already been rebuilt once). The transmission. The oil leak. The A/C, tape deck, and passenger door handle that are now display-only.
Still, I love my car. I had always thought I'd be able to put 100,000 miles on it, but I'm 25k short and it's time to say goodbye. Most of my friends rag on my car, some more than others. Of course, those are the same people who live in 2-income families and/or whose father's bought them a new car free and clear, and paid for everything needed on it for the first five years. The Saturn's not really as much of a POS as others make her out to be. She's been mostly dependable, never broken down on me on a trip or on the side of the road. She's made it through hailstorms, snowstorms, and sweltering summers. Almost since I bought her, I've been looking for a replacement, but she's held through for 6 years and some incredibly bad driving. She makes me smile every time I see her.
It's only very recently that I've begun to doubt her. And it's with much growing fear that I impatiently wait for my new ride to arrive.
Yes, folks, after many days and weeks and years of searching and researching and repeating, I have found a car I want. Now that I've made a decision, I. WANT. IT. NOW. It is on its way to me and due mid-October.
Yes, folks, I too agree that it's now past mid-October. Well, there's a slim chance my car will be here today. If not today, it looks like early November, which is completely unacceptable to me and will result in a few hundred bucks being subtracted from the agreed-upon price.
There will be no telling of my new baby's make or model until I actually have it. If I am forced to wait until early November I may very well change my mind and buy something else, and fuck the salesguy I've been working with.
People Sadden Me
There's New Girl, who's now 42 with a 19yr old son, a 2yr old developly (wtf word am I looking for?) challenged daughter, an ex-husband, and a house she bought (and lives in) with her mom. She wants to find someone to love but doesn't think she ever will, given her unusual circumstance.
There's MK, who at 40 is pregnant with her second kid. The father of both is her on-again-very-off-again boyfriend of the past 10 years. There've been two engagements broken with him; a house built and moved out of.
There's someone very close to me, who constantly struggles with deciding if her husband is someone she wants to stay married to.
There's a very close friend who, due to hell an ex-fiance put her through, is having trouble enjoying her stable relationship with her boyfriend of 3 years. She is pushing pushing pushing for a ring on her finger and can't seem to rest without it.
E, at work, who has been dating her bf for 3yrs now. They live too far away to see each other during the week.
Is any of this where they thought they'd end up? Did anyone picture raising kids as a single mom or falling out of love or having to continuously look for it?
While at Homecoming
, someone actually asked me if I was "still dating." I think I kind of blinked at them for a minute and then said something along the lines of it being an ongoing process. I'd be too full of myself if I actually read anything into her comment, if I actually thought she meant something by it.
But I still hated having to answer.
My Car Is a Water Bong
Okay, so maybe it just sounds
like a water bong. And maybe that's only when it's not sounding like a Harley. Or a lawnmower.
And no, I don't know what a water bong sounds like from personal use. The mother on Nip/Tuck was using one a few episodes back. Although that does remind me of a story...
When I was visiting my girls back in September, three of us were sitting around catching up and bullshitting. One of the girls has a stepdad, T, who we've all grown up with. Somehow the conversation turned to how T used to be a big druggie when he was growing up.
"No way! T? Shut up."
"KtP, seriously. I mean, he's been smoking cigarettes since he was 13."
"Oh please, that doesn't mean anything," I scoffed. "I started when I was 15, and that doesn't mean I'm a big pothead."
I said all that in one rush, in one quick breath, and afterwards there was a small pause of silence before we cracked up.
See, out of my NoDak girls, I'm the only one who's ever dabbled in the artform that is potsmoking. And I was the first of the group to begin cigarette smoking.
So maybe there is something to it...
Or maybe you had to be there.
It's a beautiful day here. I'm tempted to go buy a pack of my favorite menthols and sip some beer on my balcony. My first glimpse outside today threw a shock of yellow leaves at me; those weren't there yesterday.
Have a good weekend, kidlets.
Kill Me Now
Everyone I'm working with today is stupid.
I lied to you before. It wasn't on purpose; I swear, I didn't know. Yes, you're right, I could have double-checked before I said anything, but I really didn't think it would be a big deal. There was no glass blowing last weekend. There was, however, bead making, and fusing, and paperweight making. The bead making was pretty cool - we each had our own little flames, and all these different colored sticks of glass - like straws, and we learned how to melt the glass and then 'gather,' which means gathering a ball of melted glass onto the glass, and then transfer it to the mandrille, which is what the bead hardens on. We learned how to add dots or swirls, do multiple colors...I made 10 different beads that I need to fashion into something. After that was the glass fusing, where we cut colored class into different shapes and made a tile out of it. I am the least creative person out there, so I didn't like this as much. I felt like my design was...well, not ugly, but not very asthetically pleasing. And cutting and breaking the glass made me a little jumpy. After that we did some furnace work to make the paperweights. Now THAT was cool. Again, we gathered glass onto the rod (punty, in this case) from basically a well of melted glass. Any idea how hot that is? Yeah. FUCKING HOT. It was seriously so hot that I almost couldn't stand in front of the open furnace for the 5 seconds required to gather. Seriously. FUCKING HOT. Anyway, we added the colors to the gathered glass using frit, basically fine glass shards. We heated that to melt the colors into the base layer, so we'd have a smooth surface, then learned how to swirl the colors and poke air bubbles inside it, and gathered clear glass over that. We shaped them and then cut them loose from the punty! It was seriously pretty cool, and very interesting, but I don't think I'll be pursuing any of that. I don't feel creative enough to make more beads, because then I have to do something with them, and that feels stressful. I get to pick up the fusing and paperweight on Friday; maybe seeing the finished products will change my mind. Maybe.
I am consistently amazed by how badly the Chicago news sucks. It doesn't matter if it's the morning edition or the night; the anchors are juvenile and more focused on joking among themselves than giving an actual story.
Tonight's case in point: "The cop was told to be aware of a red Ford with drug dealers inside."
What the fuck is with that? Seriously. Someone please tell me what kind of reporting that is.
I have never been a big news junkie, but I do like to appear reasonably intelligent and aware of what the hell is going on in my neighborhood. So I keep giving them a chance, keep coming back for more sucker punches.
Fuck it. From now on, it's MTV all the time in the a.m. At least their
news is reliable.
The Theme of the Week...
...is quickie marriage.
I don't mean a shotgun wedding. I mean, getting engaged (and then presumably sealing the deal) within or just shortly after a year of meeting the significant other.
Am I the only one who sees this as a bad idea? And if so, is that because of my natural tendencies towards bitterness and scorn for all things happy and light?
A coworker of mine got engaged 9 months after she started dating her man. A second coworker is engaged after 11 months of dating her man.
I've never known or understood how one 'knows' they've found their mate. Everyone says "you just know," or "when you meet him/her you'll know," or "I knew right when x or y happened." Having never been in that situation, I can't say for sure whether they're right or not. I'd be stupid if I thought it was the same for each person.
So, then, if you can't be certain that you've met the 'right' person...does it really matter how long you've known them? I knew Ex for literally a dozen years before he tore my heart out, spit on it, set it on fire and performed an African rain dance on the dying embers. As the punchline to my mother's favorite joke asks, what's time to a pig?
Everyone knows someone who dated their SO for years, finally said "I do," and still ended up divorced down the road. What did they gain by dating for so long before tying the knot? Did they think they earned security? A guarantee? Boy, I bet they're laughing now.
Maybe these people who seemingly rush into marriage are just looking to be happy. Maybe they think they need the piece of paper, the communal name, the joint checking account to make all the sadness, all the misery fade away. They'd be wrong, of course, but can I really fault them for trying?
The Theme of the Day...
When I went to my high school reunion over Labor Day this year, I got the itch to move back to NoDak. I have friends there, I could own a house, get a dog, have a built-in, ready-made group of friends.
I decided to stay where I am - for the time being - because there are just no jobs available for me back there.
Yesterday, one of my girlfriends in the central part of the state sent me these pictures. They were taken from her house, just minutes before she sent them.
I need no other proof that I've made the right decision.