Epistolary Adventure

2004-01-02T13:32:00.000-06:00

Happy New Year!

2003-10-26T13:21:00.000-06:00

I went to a chili party last night, and mine won first place in the hot category. I don't know why this pleases me so much.

Ah, sunday. I'm kicking back with a beer. The beagle is next to me, curled up and sleeping. Life is good.

Its getting cold here. Halloween is on Friday. I adore fall. Its the prettiest time of year, and the time filled with the most anticipation for me. Personal history has shown that good things happen in the fall. The air is charged or something.

Tonight I'm going to see some friends I haven't seen in a while. They're from my college town and they're great. So why am I so nervous?

2003-10-19T13:11:00.000-05:00

The boyfriend and I finished the marathon a week ago today. It was amazing!! Definitely one of the hardest things I've ever done. I am so glad I did it, though. I look forward to the next one, whenever that is. Those plans are still in the making.

Can you believe I ran a fucking marathon?? I know. My arm is cramping up from all the patting myself on the back I'm doing.

2003-09-24T13:45:00.000-05:00

Three weeks til the 'thon. I passed the peak of the training program last week (20 miles on Saturday. Who's yer mama?) and have begun to taper down the mileage until race day. I'm taking the week after the marathon off work, too. It's just one giant thing to look forward to!

Other than that, not much has been going on. I recently stumbled onto a blog kept by a woman I used to be close friends with in college freshman year. We had a huge falling out. Re-connected briefly a few years ago, and then dropped all contact again. And then I find her blog. Frankly, all the things that annoyed me about her personality when I was 17 are magnified in her blog. Just all sorts of arrogance and self-importance. Her writing is engaging, though. That's for sure. But I hate myself for reading it. Its like she's sucking me in all over again. Part of me is a tiny bit jealous, too, because this blog has not at all been a place where I can just let loose. To the contrary. I wish I wasn't so self-conscious. But what if I wasn't and someone who knew me when stumbled onto this and figured out it was me, and thought, "too bad I know that in real life, you are not nearly as cool as you make yourself out to be." ?

But, I have barely one reader so I guess its all moot, eh?

2003-08-20T13:32:00.000-05:00

I forgot to post that last post, so here it is. I have been very delinquent in my blogging; prolly because my time is spent training for the 'thon and satisfying my obsession with The Boss. Seriosuly, it's bad. And pretty much exclusive. Its been quite a while since I've listened to anything other than Bruce (save the Chicago soundtrack, razzle dazzle) and I took in two shows at Giants Stadium last month and am hungry for more, more more! I wish I could afford to just follow him all over the country and the world. Be a Bruce Head. Mmmmmmm. My boyfriend is afraid I'm going to get a tattoo that says, "Bruce" on it.

It's not an irrational fear.

2003-07-14T12:15:00.000-05:00

So I got a new car a week ago. Well, it's a certified pre-owned car, but it's new to me. And I love it. I figure shopping and going out are on hold for the next five years, but what the hey.

I still need to figure out what to do with my other car, since it's still sitting at the mechanic's. Maybe I'll donate it somewhere. I have to figure it out in the next couple weeks. It's kind of a weird situation to be in. I didn't trade it in because I got my new car in my home state and drove it back here.

I officially registered for the marathon, so its real. I ran nine miles on Saturday. I never in my life thought I'd be able to run nine miles.

I am glued to the coverage of the Tour de France. Allez, Lance, Allez!

2003-06-09T08:36:00.000-05:00

flivver \FLIH-ver\ noun
: a small cheap usually old automobile

I noticed this morning that my car's transmission is being fussy. This scares me. The last time it acted fussy the whole damn transmission had to be re-built. If there is, indeed, a need for a new transmission that's it for this car. As you may remember, I recently spent more than $2,000 on a new timing belt, head gasket, and computer. If the transmission is going to go now....well, that just hacks me off to no end.

The boyfriend was out of town this weekend, so I missed him a lot. BUT, my best girl came into town and we hung out and saw a show and that was so nice. Our relationship is one that doesn't require too much "catching up." Somehow, we just know where the other person is. So it's always relaxing and comfortable and oh-so comforting. This, I believe, is the result of 10-years of practice.

2003-06-03T09:45:00.000-05:00

Yes, I'm a little obsessed with running. Yes, I have a Runner's World screen saver that's full of inspiring quotes from people like Oprah and has lots of pictures of people running in a variety of gorgeous settings that makes people snicker a bit when they invade my personal space at work and come around my desk as opposed to just standing in front of it. I got it free when I subscribed to the magazine. No, I am not scarily lacking body fat like some runners you see on the street. No, the special shorts I got are not poofy. Yes, I am new at it and that's where all this vigor and vim is coming from. No, I won't shut up already. Would you be willing to bear with me? I need to talk about it to keep it real, yo.

In other news, I think I'm going to go to the doctor and get my heart and stuff checked out before the marathon training officially begins in a couple weeks. Yesterday, I was on the Runner's World site and searched the word "knees," because my knees are sore. Up comes "angina." Reading the article jogged (no pun intended) my memory of the run I did on Sunday, after which, my chest felt tight right when I stopped running and started walking for the cool down. It dissipated within 30 seconds. But reading about how angina doesn't last long and may go unnoticed, so don't ignore it, get it checked out, etc., has made me think that I should just get checked out and make sure everything's in working order before the mileage gets high and I put my body through the punishment. This morning after my run, I felt a little tightness but it was more high in my chest (which is where it was before) and I think (hope) it has more to do with having asthma and breathing as opposed to anything to do with my heart. But yeah, I'm going to make an appointment to have a physical, just to make sure.

2003-06-02T08:59:00.000-05:00

This weekend, in anticipation of the hot, humid conditions to come, I went out and purchased running clothes. It's all high-tech extra wicking stuff and it feels so good. I don't think I'll be able to go back to cotton. The training runs last week all went very well. On Sunday, we had a timed run in the park, which is hilly almost everywhere. Brutal. I've decided that I will officially register for the marathon after the training week during which I have a 10-miler scheduled. If I can make it through that, 26.2 will seem attainable. Until then, I will continue with the training schedule, and if the marathon's all filled up or something, I will continue to train until I can get into one. A guy I know started running in marathons last year and since then has run in five - all in different, great locations, the last one being in France. I'd like to do that, too. You see a place differently when you run through it.

2003-05-27T13:06:00.000-05:00

The race went really well. I finished within my goal time and actually, literally placed smack dab in the middle of the overall race. I'm pleased with that, considering this was my first time. The people all are so nice at these events; they clap and cheer you on, shouting words of encouragement. I had no need for my walkman. The atmosphere was enough to keep me going.

2003-05-21T18:09:00.000-05:00

So I'm running in my first race this weekend. A 5K; short and sweet. I'm not in it to win. I'm in it to do well (read: not stop) and learn what it is to run in a group of people. I do have to say that a fun part of training for a marathon is that I have an excuse to make more mix tapes. Not that I need an excuse, but it is fun to put together a bunch of songs that motivate me in some way on a tape and then let the music drive my legs. I hear tell that a lot of races don't allow you to wear headphones, in which case I'll be in a bit of a pickle, won't I? We'll see. They say the crowd is instrumental in helping you get through all 26.2 miles. I hope that by then (21 weeks from now), I'll be worrying more about keeping my pace up as opposed to wondering if my butt looks okay in these shorts. I'm still worrying about aesthetics at this point (this is week six of training). Part of the course we run is a not terribly steep but quite long hill. It becomes rather laborious toward the top and sometimes I take stock of what my body is actually doing and I realize that I have a what must be horrible grimace on my face. So I force myself to smile. When I start to smile, I start wondering how my butt looks. I need to get over that. All the other runners on the path don't give a shit about my butt now, do they? They're probably too concerned about theirs. There's a life lesson somewhere in here, I know it.

Have I said I love the new Cat Power album lately? So good. So, so good.

2003-05-09T08:45:00.000-05:00

'ello 'ello 'ello...

Everybody's getting engaged, having babies and/or buying houses. I swear to the holy heavens I am not exaggerating. The air is charged with big, adult plans for the future, and I'm sitting there listening to these plans just kind of really wanting a glass of Chianti and some time to myself. I am really happy for all of the lovebirds and don't envy their weekends spent weeding. I would like to paint, though. That's really the only thing...and it would be nice to not have neighbors either upstairs or downstairs. One day, one day.

I haven't been blogging at all lately, as you can see, but I have been reading other blogs that are knocking my socks off. Yeah, I'm basically just soaking it all up and not giving back.

In other news, I am training for a marathon. Have I told you? The boyfriend and I are running together. Starting off slowly and building. It surprises me, but I love running. I love having a training schedule. I love that I've gone out in super-crap weather just to get my run in. And I love even more that the only people out in that mess are other runners.

Back to the treadmill they call work. Talk soon.

2003-04-15T08:48:00.000-05:00

defenestration \dee-feh-nuh-STRAY-shun\ noun
: a throwing of a person or thing out of a window

I've got a few people on my list already today.

2003-03-26T08:55:00.000-06:00

The boyfriend has been watching CNN non-stop while I have been retreating into James Herriot stories and making lots of popcorn cooked on the stove. My reaction to all of the war coverage is sleepiness. It stresses me out, so in the face of it, I shut down; I get really tired or I totally zone out and start thinking about how I could really use a pedicure because the warmer months are here and I'll need to wear sandals and man, my feet are a mess...so yeah. I'm understanding it and following it and in my industry we work with the media a lot so it's crucial to be aware and smart about things but it all makes me tired.

24 is so good. It is edge of your seat, I can't believe I have to wait a week to see what happens kind of stuff.

In other news, I have the soundtrack of Chicago in my head. I saw it on stage when I was in London a couple years ago and had the songs in my head for about a month after that. Here I am again. My dog and boyfriend are getting weary of my Diller-esque rendition of Razzle Dazzle. I'm just not Razzle Dazzling them when I only know parts of the song. I can see how my Jazz Hands can be annoying. I guess I've never told you that I have a secret love of show tunes. I need to buy the soundtrack and learn all the words and just be done with it.

More soon.

2003-03-18T08:47:00.000-06:00

This morning I woke up with "You Shook Me All Night Long" in my head. It's not a bad way to wake up.

2003-03-17T10:16:00.000-06:00

So a friend of mine got engaged last night. I am so happy for her. But I'd be lying if I didn't feel a twinge (okay bit more than a twinge. More like a spazm.) of envy. It's so silly because on a day-to-day level not being engaged doesn't bother me. But when I see friends all over the place making the choice to do this I can't help but beg the (very very very stupid) question, "why haven't I been asked?" It's such an asshole thing to think and its a bit ironic because I counseled my newly-engaged friend about this on Friday when she was telling me that every day it doesn't happen she wants to know why. I said that the big picture is such that this is (hopefully) the only time in your life that you'll have this kind of anticipation....how it in and of itself is wonderful....and now here I am being neurotic.

Ah well. Whatev. I'm cool, I'm cool.

2003-03-14T12:01:00.000-06:00

Maybe it's the box of fresh citrus fruit my mom sent us. All I know is that I'm homesick. I'm listening to old Front 242, even, to get me back to that industrial, dancy Nitzer Ebb-ish place that reminds me of home. What next? Kate Bush? Ministry, for God's sake?!?

2003-03-10T10:48:00.000-06:00

Hello.

In the last three weeks my car has required more than $2,000 in repairs. First it was the water pump, timing belt, and head gasket. One week later, the computer stopped communicating with the engine. My car was brain-dead. She's up and running well now, though. And even though two grand is a lot to spend on a 10-year-old car, it's cheaper than buying new. Lord knows now is not the financial time for me to get a new car. I am really attached to my quirky car (it's the only one I've ever had) and when I get a new car (whenever that is) I want to get a great car, not some used, band-aid car. I really love cars.

Also, in the past week, I've had a mild flu and now I think I may have pink eye.

How are you?

2003-03-06T09:15:00.000-06:00

The Word of the Day for Mar 06 is:
crapulous \KRAP-yuh-luss\ (adjective)

1 : marked by intemperance especially in eating or drinking
*2 : sick from excessive indulgence in liquor

Example sentence:
If you're feeling crapulous the morning after the big celebration, drinking lots of water and taking some aspirin will help.

Did you know?
"Crapulous" may sound like a word that you shouldn't use in polite company, but it actually has a long and perfectly respectable history (although it's not a particularly kind way to describe someone). It is derived from the Late Latin adjective "crapulosus," which in turn traces back to the Latin word "crapula," meaning "intoxication." "Crapula" itself comes from a much older Greek word for the headache one gets from drinking. "Crapulous" first appeared in print in 1536. Approximately 200 years later, its close cousin "crapulence" arrived on the scene as a word for sickness caused by drinking. "Crapulence" later acquired the meaning "great intemperance especially in drinking," but it is not an especially common word.

*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.

2003-03-04T15:59:00.000-06:00

You'd think, after going to so many weddings in such a (relatively) short period of time, I'd have at least some idea of what I wanted to for my (make-believe) event. But no. There has to be something for me somewhere between Rockabilly bands and peanuts in paper trays and country club, black tie affairs. Or maybe there isn't. Or maybe I'll just sink all of the (make-believe) money into a rockin' honeymoon and forgo the ceremony!

The wedding I just went to was very nice. Very nice indeed. It was serious and scheduled. And type-A Catholic. I totally dig the couple who got married but I can't help but think to call the event "My Big Fat Republican Wedding." During the ceremony, the priest blessed the current administration. Yes, for real. And during the reception, there were times where I could almost feel my reproductive rights being taken away from me. Anyhoo, the whole two-day event was decadent, as were the bride's wedding dress and reception gown. Yes, two dresses. Each as lovely as the other. No expense was spared. The drinks flowed freely.

2003-02-24T10:52:00.000-06:00

Below is a post from earlier this week. Today I am leaving for a (hopefully) warmer climate, for a wedding of a dear friend. Everyone's getting married these days. And, these days, the idea seems rather appealing to me. Strange. Anyway, here are my thoughts from Monday. I don't plan to imbibe too much this weekend (yeah right) and don't want this blog to turn into tales of partying and regret. Just partying.

***********

That's it. I am DONE with drinking. Finished. This weekend, my guest and I imbibed quite a bit. Wine. Also we watched bad Lifetime movies and ate ice cream. We basically stayed in until we, with a good buzz on, decided to "go out and get crazy." Oh, Jesus. You see, I am not your average bear when it comes to drinking. For the most part, I cannot handle my liquor, so sometimes I go overboard and don't decide to stop until it's simply too late. This night, I must have had a bottle of wine to myself and then an additional glass. This is unheard of for me. Unheard of! I'm usually the two pints of Guinness and I'm out girl. Not this time. I got tanked. And it was not pretty. I made a total ass of myself at the bar and was admonished by a group of prissy sober girls, one of whom yelled at me for knocking over her drink and demanded that I buy her another one. This is a very fuzzy recollection. All of it is extremely fuzzy. I could barely see faces in front of me. And my friend and I were hit on by some sleazy guys and it was all just so gross. And the boyfriend was out of town, so that made it all worse, that I behaved so badly while he was out of town. I shared all with him when he came home, of course.

I continue my self-flagellation. I am mortified. The next morning I woke up early and with a start. One of those, "OH MY GOD, WHAT HAVE I DONE?!?!" hungover moments. Or, as Janeane (or is it Margaret?) would say, "What kind of fucked-up, Motley Crue, Behind the Music Bullshit is this?!?" Then a strange thing happened: about two hours later I got re-drunk. The alcohol came back. Only this time, meaner. I prayed that I be given the strength get rid of all of the evil in my system, but karma wouldn't listen.

2003-02-21T12:23:00.000-06:00

I need to inject some sunshine into this blog. My goodness, doesn't it just seem like I am the Queen of Doom and Gloom? I'm really not. In reality, I laugh all the time. I thrive on laughter, making people laugh, laughing at people (lovingly) and, of course, laughing at myself. Kvetching is part of that. Maybe listening to Bob Mould's Black Sheets of Rain and Red House Painters isn't the best thing to do at work while crunching on a tight-deadline project. I saw Bob last time he came into town. He looks faboo. Seriously. The man has guns. I shook his hand, too. I can be such a groupie. Aside from Husker Du and all the other things he's done, I have one of my favorite memories from a Sugar show I went to more than 10 years ago (my God, has it been that long?!?!). I made a profound connection with a stranger there (okay, not that profound, gutter-brains). Now it seems like it was a dream. It all resulted in a broken heart, of course. I wonder where said person is these days...

A fave of mine is visiting me this weekend. Very exciting.

Also, enjoying the Pluot, an Apricot-Plum hybrid, sister of the Aprium. Last night I was staying late at work, eating a Pluot, singing, "Me and my Pluot!" I thought myself very funny indeed. I was alone. It was dark. I had work to do. I amuse myself when I can.

Many laughs to you this weekend. Good times. Neat bunch. Pluots.

2003-02-14T16:31:00.000-06:00

I've noticed lately that it seems like everybody and their sister is the Director of something. Director of statewide campaign for...Director of marketing for....Director of this, Director of that. And I think, wow, I'm not even Directing traffic. But then I think, surely not everyone is Directing well, because we still aren't winning so many of the battles that the Directors are Directing efforts for or against. And I ask where all of these extremely young Directors learned to Direct. But then I think that maybe all of that is just the voice of someone who used to be in line to assume one of those noble Director positions but was plucked out of the queue and now is a corporate hack Directing her guilt for not activley working for what she believes in, in the form of jealousy and dissatisfaction, toward those who are.

2003-02-06T08:31:00.000-06:00

A friend of mine, her boyfriend's mom is dying. Like, dying today. And my friend is writing the obit. Imagine.

2003-01-30T08:57:00.000-06:00

Why haven't I written lately? Well, it has something to do with needing to "work" more so that I can "bring the company money." Harumpf, harumpf.

Hopefuly in the relatively near future, I'll join the present and have a computer at home from which I can blog my little heart out.

Until then expect short, sporadic shares.

I know. I'll miss you, too.

2003-01-27T18:05:00.000-06:00

I have one friend left with whom I can be catty about past happenings and adventures. Not all of our thoughts and views are justified, but some definitely are. The cattiness comes out pretty infrequently but when it does, phew, we get it all out. After getting it out, I always feel a little bit bad, not because of the things I said but because I feel immature for not being above the cattiness. Another side effect of catty is that I feel that the gap between me and them and now and then is even more huge and that makes me a bit sad and nostalgic. Nostalgic for the days when we were in love with the sources of the cattiness. It's what drove us. Now, it's all about trying to make sense of things. Things that don't matter unless we make them matter and I think we're both afraid of letting all of it go. So we position oursleves purposely at eye-level with the cattiness. That way, we always can see just above it but can duck if we feel like it.

If you understand any of this, you may just be my soul mate.

2003-01-21T16:00:00.000-06:00

The weekend was pretty good. Thursday and Friday of last week were weird and tense at work and so I needed some stress-relief and found it in a Mojito made in a local martini bar where the decor is cool and the drinks are huge but never as good as I want them to be. Also played drinking games for exactly the second time in my life. The card game, Asshole, is just an argument waiting to happen. Inevitably, someone becomes the asshole and then is hurt and drunk and wondering why they are the asshole. Trying to explain to them that those are the rules gets you nowhere. They're pissed at you for calling them an asshole, tell you to fuck off, and stumble off to the fridge for another Michelob Ultra. I swear.

Also hung out with some doctor friends of ours. They are a lot of fun. One of my favorites friends here actually gets to say his job is brain surgery. wow.

Today has been a madhouse at work, too, but at least it's Tuesday.

Trying not to be sad that my best girl came to my city and didn't say hi to her best girl. Even though I saw her last weekend, I am greedy.

2003-01-17T09:38:00.000-06:00

Dorkist! Oh yeah, baby.

2003-01-17T08:45:00.000-06:00

Could I be more lame about posting this week? I've not had much go on that I can really post online, so I've been seemingly silent. But not in my head, my friend. In my head I've been screaming. I've been working to not get tangled in details and focus on what matters lately and I've been doing a pretty good job. I've also realized the joy and freedom that comes with honestly not giving two shits about what other people think. Ever since I joined the corporate world, I've been trying so hard to fit my square peg body into the required narrow, round hole. I've been chasing carrots on sticks. Not any more. I am so okay with not fitting and, quite frankly, I find myself refreshing. And I say so what? to anyone who disagrees.

2003-01-13T10:31:00.000-06:00

I just saw that Mary's Modern Ferret Journal and Vegetarian Mouse Slayer are two blogs listed on the recently updated blogs part of Blogger.com. What are the odds of two blog titles involving rodents being published at the same time? Ok. Yeah, I guess the odds aren't that low. These are blogs we're talking about, after all. Anyway, today I vow to be productive so I'm warming up my key pad by updating my blog, which I may re-name Smart Rat.

Yesterday I was in pajamas all day. It was awesome. Sundays are perfect pajama days.

2003-01-06T17:16:00.000-06:00

Yep. Still busy.

2003-01-03T17:19:00.000-06:00

Well, the holidays are definitely over. Work is busy, busy, busy. It feels like New Year's Eve was about a month ago.

2002-12-31T09:55:00.000-06:00

'ello 'ello 'ello!

I've been incommunicado for a few days due to a general "I can't look at a computer screen right now" feeling. I took my last vacation day of 2002 yesterday and sat home and read Lance Armstrong's It's Not About the Bike. I'm a big cycling fan and Lance is just such a stud. I recently got a trainer for my bike and so have been cycling inside when the weather's been bad which has been much of the time. During college I hung with some 'bike shop guys" and used to ride all the time - gravel roads, mainly. I miss those gravel roads. As soon as I have a few grand (or more) burning a hole in my pocket, I'm going to buy a killer road bike. Perhaps a Bianchi or a lovely Trek, like Lance rides.

Ooh, linky-dinky-doo today, aren't we? It's New Year's Eve and the plans are not big. I'm okay with that, though. For me, New Year's is about getting together with close friends and appreciating what has passed and what's to come. I am a bit home sick for my homies out east but we'll be together again soon enough. Plus, the bf and I are going to make dinner and watch movies.

My most memorable New Year's was 1996. I was home visiting and a group of us got together and went to the beach at night. We sat in a circle, passed around a mini-bottle of tequila and declared our resolutions as we each took swigs. Then, we wrote what we wanted to be rid of in the damp sand and watched the waves erase them. Then, we went to our old haunt - a goth dance club downtown - and danced all night. It was damn near perfect.

Do you make New Year's resolutions? I'm psyched about 2003. I resolve to:

Volunteer at my local zoo and see about a career in animal science. I want to be a vet! No, really. No, you shut up!

Join the local rowing club and pick up where I left off.

Continue to run with the BF and take it more seriously.

Lose 10 pounds.

Stop worrying so much about my weight issue because I don't really have one.

Concentrate on being strong and healthy.

Ride bikes.

Appreciate the here and the now and take action to live into the future I want.

Take time for me.

Make time for those important to me and let them know how important they are to me.

Stop comparing myself to others.

Read. Write.

Make more mix tapes.

Appreciate the city in which I live.

Floss.

Laugh.

Maintain work-life balance.

Get that I have an awesome life and choice people in my life and choose to be happy. Why not, eh?

Happy 2003, ya'll.

2002-12-26T09:47:00.000-06:00

Yesterday, someone stumbled onto my site while Googling "kid making funny faces." How awesome is that?

Oh, Christmas. What a crazy 24-hour period. The Eve was actually okay; the sister was friendly (still unbelieveably self-absorbed but that's who she is and my mantra was to accept everyone for everything that they are and everything that they aren't) and the four of us were in a decent mood and there was a dog in the apartment upon whom I could focus my attention (I prefer dogs to humans just about 100% of the time) and it was snowing and pretty and the champagne was delicious and didn't make me turn very red which was a holiday miracle in and of itself (it was a champagne from the land of Kiwis and very, very delicious). Christmas morning was very pleasant, too. The boyfriend got me, among other things, three pounds of Dunkin' Donuts coffee. The man really does love me (all the Dunkin' Donuts around here have been overtaken by Donut Kings. Bastards. Another reason to move back east.) He also got me the little ornament pictured above. Too funny.

We made eggs benedict and drank Mimosas (my no-turning-red luck ran out with these. Frexinet and orange juice - I look at the drink and look like Gloworm in a matter of seconds). And then the boyfriend's mom received very bad news: a close friend back where she lives died Saturday. He had a two-hour headache which turned out to be a stroke (oh shit I'm listening to The Strokes as I write this, I didn't even think about it. Is that bad karma?) so she had to cancel standing plans and plan the drive back west. Needless to say, the mood shifted after that. And we had to leave her to go and eat dinner with the bf's dad. The sister was going to be there, too, but no real big deal, right? Wrong. She was like a dark cloud and started crying almost immediately, complained about feeling "excluded from the group," and left before dinner. Oh yeah - she's 35.

The holidays make everyone a little nutso, methinks.

I don't even know what to say about Joe Strummer. What a heavy year.

2002-12-24T11:06:00.000-06:00

The boyfriend loves Christmas and I'm trying. I'd like it more if I wasn't stressing balls over seeing his sister who's basically a nightmare. Okay, that's an exaggeration. Okay, no it's not. I'm going to see her tonight and tomorrow and last year she was so ugly to me, peeing all over her turf. This year I am going to approach it from a grown-up perspective: I am the only one who has control over me and I can't control the opinions of others so screw it and stop worrying and enjoy being with the bf at this time. Sigh. It's hard work, being mature. This is one case in which I am not good at it. Starting next year, I want to start celebrating Hanukkah and Christmas so that I feel like I have a more integral role in the holidays and can get back to my roots. Also, this ensures that, between the two holidays and my birthday, December will be an almost solid month of presents for me! Am I awful?

Last night I went to a holiday cocktail party at a friend's place. I had wine, and can now add to my list of "Silly Things I Say When Buzzed" is, "ASIANS RULE!" as I clink glasses with a Chinese brothah who also turns kinda red when he drinks. I left the party shortly after that. hee hee. I have learned, however, that I don't turn very red when I drink high-quality wine, which further justifies my expensive tastes.

2002-12-19T08:43:00.000-06:00

Happy Thursday. The Galaxie 500 cover of Ceremony is totally making my morning. Have you heard Travis' cover of Baby One More Time?

2002-12-18T17:17:00.000-06:00

Howdy. Not much to blog about today. It's been one of those days where a bunch of little things have added up to make one medium-sized pain in the ass. My cold is starting to dissipate. I was at Walgreen's last night trying to find some kind of over the counter medication that wouldn't be bad for people with asthma. I couldn't find one. Some are safer than others and, really, my asthma is super under control, but the last thing I need is to have an asthma attack. That would totally bum me out.

So I got a couple bags of those vitamin C lozenges and I've been popping those. I think it's helping.

Something else relating to respiration - I wonder if there is such a thing as Breathe Right Strips for dogs. My beagle, God love him, snores like a 90-year-old man. Every time I start to drift off, it seems, the snoring begins. So I try rubbing his chest or nudging him a bit to get him to stop. He stops for the next few breaths but then he's back to sawing logs. Little man.

2002-12-17T09:01:00.000-06:00

Jupiter now forms a rare, harmonious link to Pluto. The moon, meanwhile, grows full in your opposite sign. You are in the process of making a profound discovery. You are learning more, by the hour, about who you really are and where your life is heading. If not, indeed, by the minute. You may be embarking on a new adventure with an unfamiliar companion or you may be finding a fresh understanding with an old partner in crime. Or both. All the time you are becoming more aware of what’s possible – and more inspired by this. Try not to reach too many conclusions yet for you still have much to learn – but you can expect your next lesson to be both profitable and pleasurable.

That's my horoscope for the day. This week already I have discovered some pretty profound things. And, things are kind of changing in my life, and plans are being made - plans that I've been wanting for a while now - plans that, when they start to become more real, scare me (in a thrilling kind of way). So we'll see.

Have you ever played the game Zobmondo? It's a game of absurd questions such as:

Would you rather hiccup every five minutes for the rest of your life OR every time you fart, blue smoke comes out of your ass? (Blue Smoke)
Would you rather wake up to two rats having sex on your stomach OR wake up because a roach is sucking on your tear duct? (Rats)
Would you rather be kicked in the head while biting a street curb OR get a paper cut on your eye ball? (Paper Cut)
Would you rather eat 15 feet of aluminum foil OR eat six steel guitar strings? (Foil)
In a circus, would you rather be the person the knife thrower throws knives at OR stick your head in the mouth of a lion? (Lion)

I think it would be funny if the second half to every question was, "every time you fart blue smoke comes out of your ass."

2002-12-16T14:07:00.000-06:00

Sigur Ros is farewell music. It's the way I felt while I packed up my things to move out of the apartment in which my ex and I lived for a year while he sat in bed, reading, eating a Moon Pie I gave him as a white flag. It's the way I felt when I shut the full trunk of my car hoping he would run out to stop me from going but he didn't.

********************************

2002-12-16T09:06:00.000-06:00

The work holiday party went well. I ate it must have been 50 lbs of brie but it was baked with raspberry preserves or topped with fig compote and I needed something to soak up the beer in my system, right? After the work party, boyfriend and I went to another party. A friend of ours just graduated from chiropractor school and chose to celebrate with kareoke. After a couple mulled ciders, he and I sang "One Night in Bangkok." People thought I did a really good British accent during the spoken parts. What they don't know is that the accent is good because I spent the first 10 years of my life speaking with one. A local jazz singer attended the party. She sang Bonnie Raitt's "I Can't Make You Love Me" with a voice that filled the room with velvet soul. I always want to cry during that song. That and "Landslide." After that, everyone sang "Mack The Knife" like we were members of the Rat Pack.

Kareoke can be fun. With the mic comes power.

Back to work. I think I may be getting the flu.

2002-12-13T21:43:00.000-06:00

Today at work a man I totally respect said that a piece I turned in was "FUCKING BRILLIANT." Thank you thank you. I techincally had today slotted as a vacation day but had to go in for an hour or so this morning and in that time I got that compliment and decided to quit while I was ahead and go home (it's all rainy/snowy here) before he had a chance to change his mind. I take these victories where I can. I work with so many people who are great at what they do and I'm still somewhat of a newbie and am learning.

Kinda late here (well not really). The boyfriend's watching Iron Chef and I'm here drinking wine (local wine, actually, from a winery near my college town) and listening to Jenny Toomey sound tinny on laptop speakers. 'S'okay, though. My mind just went blank. I was going to write about things, make big statements. Not so much now. 'Tis the season for holiday parties. My practice group's party is tomorrow night at the big boss' beautiful, huge house. My third party there. They're usually fun, but I have to watch the alcohol consumption around the co-workers if you know what I mean. At my first group holiday party, the Cosmopolitans were exceptionally strong and served in those very shallow, plastic champagne "glasses" used at New Year's parties. I had a few and next thing I know, I'm dribbling chocolate fondue down the front of a new sweater and I'm singing Christmas carols like a footbal (soccer) hooligan: "FIVE GOLDEN RINGS!!!! FUCK YEAH!!!" It wasn't pretty.

So this year I'm going to try to keep things under control. I am, after all, a professional. And, for today and the remainder of the weekend at least, I am fucking brilliant.

2002-12-12T08:45:00.000-06:00

Lord of the Rhymes

2002-12-10T15:11:00.000-06:00

Yesterday, in the mail, I received super adorable photos of my nieces. It's so fun having little people in your family. Especially these two little girls. The older one is five and I swear she is the reincarnation of moi. I find her irresistible, hilarious, and inquisitive. She's gregarious and right now loves playtime, trampolines, ballet, and anything chocolate. Some may find her to be a bit much to handle but those are usually the boring people. Anyone who tears into the dining room to announce, "I HAVE SOME BAD NEWS! THERE'S POO EVERYWHERE!" in relation to her little sister's diaper coming loose and making a mess is aces in my book.

The younger one is two and is slowly but surely gaining a command of the English language. She asks you full-blown questions like, "Hello. What have you been up to?" And then has absolutely no facility to process your response and address it accordingly. She's so adorable. She's already an environmentalist. She loves to sleep outdoors and goes mad over anything furry with four paws.

I have the pictures in my office. They are so stunning and I look at them and my heart wells up with love for these amazing little girls. I can't wait to see them again.

2002-12-05T16:34:00.000-06:00

Yum. They don't sell them where I live, but a friend of mine sends them to me because I love them: Ginger Altoids. Delicious! Hot, spicy, gingery. I'm a bit addicted.

2002-12-05T09:47:00.000-06:00

Albums I want to listen to right now, at this moment: Kitchens of Distinction, Strange Free World and James, Seven. My best friend in high school and I listened to these albums so much we wore out the tapes. It was all about those albums and anything by The Smiths and The Cure. To this day, The Smiths are my all-time favorite band. I listen to them whenever I relocate and whenever I'm feeling out of place (which is more often than I'd like). I don't know, they center me, I guess. My girl blogged once about music being deadly fucking serious and she's so right. It is. It, more than anything, frames my life and my experience.

Ok, am being pulled toward other duties. More waxing Brit pop dramatic later. :-)

2002-12-04T15:24:00.000-06:00

And now my archives are back. Sheesh.

2002-12-04T15:23:00.000-06:00

I can't seem to change "my funny motto," and now my archives have disappeared. Sheesh.

2002-12-03T16:13:00.000-06:00

ok so I woke up too late this morning to wash my hair and needed to do something with it, so I grabbed a hair band and put it on. It looked a little preppy, a little wholesome and I was in a hurry so I nodded at my reflection in the mirror and rushed off to work.

Then I remembered why I haven't worn one of these things since I was seven.

IT HURTS. Really badly. The pincer tips grabbing at my temples like so many clothespins preventing heavy blankets from falling on the grass. I'd take it off but you see I have hair band head now and dear reader, it is not pretty.

So now I am a hair band martyr. I will not take it off 'til quittin' time. It's my cross to bear. Tomorrow: no snooze alarm.

2002-12-02T09:59:00.000-06:00

The vice-like grip of PMS has loosened. I am back to myself.

Love the four-day weekend. Thanksgiving was good. Birthday was good. Brit pop is good. It's all good.

2002-11-25T08:49:00.000-06:00

Cramps. Crankiness. Eyes ready to well-up at any provocation. Feeling fat fat fat and ugly ugly ugly. Had to scrape ice off windshield this morning when I was late for work already. Did not wake up to go running because I went to bed with a stomach ache and it never really went away and still hasn't and now has joined forces with the cramps and I'm pretty sure my uterus is going to just - plop - fall out any minute. Prolly during the conference call I'm leading today. Or perhaps during the stupid stupid stupid work Thanksgiving get-together/trivia contest today for which my boss offered me up to participate. It's called Turkey Trivia so it'll either be about turkeys (I know nothing about turkeys) or company trivia (almost as equally clueless). I doubt there will be a category on the punk rock movement in Washington, D.C. 1970s-present so I'm screwed. Seriously, not to bombard you with my physical woes, but my lower back hurts, too. I feel like I'm 13.

2002-11-22T17:01:00.000-06:00

During my morning run someone driving by in a truck sang to me the "Rocky" theme song. I found it oddly motivating.

2002-11-21T15:15:00.000-06:00

Sensitive? Me? Never!

So, how stupid is it to internalize this: when I was in Denver, I saw an old friend (we've been friends since 6th grade - she's actually my oldest friend in the States), S. We hung out walked around and it was cool and she has hats and I tried one on - this great, grey, velvet, crushy, kind of square-topped hat with a brim, I can't really explain it, but it was made for me, right, so I put it on, and she put a hat on and we walked around all day in the hats. And J. Lo. sunglasses. So. She said that she was going to give me the hat, she hardly wears it and likes it better on me. I said, "Oh, don't be silly!" But I secretly wanted the hat. I was in love with the hat.

So, we meet up with my boy and one of her good friends, T, in town for dinner. Now, her friend saw me wearing the hat and said, "I love that hat!" and my friend said, "I think I'm gonna give it to Ghetto, it's so her!" and her friend said, jokingly, "Awww, you do love her more than me!" So, we go to dinner, and then the boyfriend and I drop S and T off at S's place. I'm wearing the hat. I give her a big hug, take the hat off, and hand it to her. She takes it. The boy and I get in the car. T walks over to say 'bye to S, they hug and then S GIVES T THE HAT!

So I totally have made that mean that S loves T more than me. Isn't that ridiculous?

Maybe, though, I love the J. Lo. sunglasses more than the hat. There, that eases the pain.

2002-11-20T15:57:00.000-06:00

Not surprising at all, really.

Which Diesel Sweeties Character Are You?

2002-11-20T13:09:00.000-06:00

This is such a kick-ass horoscope. My b-day's in two weeks. I figure many will forget because it's the Sunday right after Thanksgiving. I don't say that in a woe-is-me way, I say that in a practical way. Even my mother said that my birthday is tough to remember this year. My mother! Oh well. I'll be 28 and life is good.

At the amusement park I went to last summer, there was a booth where you could get a trick photograph of yourself lodged in the jaws of a shark. I suggest you have an image like this made now, Sagittarius. It'll be a symbol of the past you're escaping from -- the threatening maw that almost devoured you but didn't. Next, create a symbol of your future in the form of a second collage. For this one, paste your face on the body of a person holding a fishing pole and standing on a dock adjacent to a shark hanging upside-down from a hook.

2002-11-19T13:28:00.000-06:00

Rocky Mountain High

Hi there. I'm back. The trip was good. Best quote: "I'll take sheep nuts over mutton any day!"

More soon when I'm out from under.

2002-11-13T14:44:00.000-06:00

Yeah, I liked it better before, too. But now I'm in a bit of a pickle; too many changes and no time now to fix it.

Oh well.

Monkeys!

2002-11-12T09:03:00.000-06:00

Throw me a frickin' bone here, people.

My horoscope for the day:

We don’t like to talk about our problems for we do not want to be thought of as complainers. We don’t like to talk about our triumphs for we do not want to be thought of as boasters. We don’t like to talk about other people - for we do not want to be thought of as gossips. And we don’t like to talk about ourselves lest we are thought of as narcissistic. Which doesn’t leave us much to talk about really – no wonder we are always discussing the weather. But there really is a certain something that you ought to tell a certain someone today.

What? What? What is it? For the love of Pete.

Anyway.

So, we're going through a big inter-office move. And my moving day is tomorrow (the day that I was supposed to take off? Um, yeah, that's not going to happen). In these tough economic times, we are all sharing boxes. Fine. So this morning, I get into work early to get some packing done before it's time to get my work done and I realized that I packed my Sharpie marker yesterday and thus have nothing with which to write things like, "files" or "contents of upper left desk drawer" on my boxes. So I go to my assistant and I say, "do you have a marker I can borrow?"

"What kind of marker?"
"A black marker that I can use to write on boxes."
"You're going to write on your boxes? Like what, your name?"
"No, like "files" and "contents of upper left desk drawer."
"You do realize, don't you, that people will be using those boxes after you?"
"Yes. And I'm sure they will be capale of scratching out what I wrote."
"Well, just so you know." (read: just so you know that you very well may be ruining the moving experience of all those who come after you.)

Then she handed me not one, but two Sharpie markers. As if I may decide to draw pictures of my dog all over the boxes instead, or catalogue every item in the box.

I think I may just sniff the markers until I pass out.

Mmmmm. Sharpies.

2002-11-11T17:25:00.000-06:00

Nutty day! Nutty! Nutty! Nutty!

2002-11-08T16:18:00.000-06:00

Here's why I am going to take the extra vacation day. Sheesh.

Also, how about this? Very interesting, the juxtaposition of the two findings, don't you think?

Hey, did you hear about the new baby cheetah at the Cincinnati Zoo? They wanted to get a puppy for it to play with and grow up with and you know what breed they chose? Of course - a beagle. I love beagles. Beagles are the best. I have one and love him more than just about anything. If you've ever had the good fortune to spend quality time with a beagle, you know what I'm talking about: they're cards, cut-ups. They are utterly un-self conscious and hilarious. They have hearts of gold and good, dear souls. I swear, sometimes I look into my dogs eyes and I know I am truly looking at zen perfection. Almost every day I'll be out and about doing my thing and then, all of a sudden, I'll be hit with a pang of missing the little puddin'! It may sound silly, but it's true. Like, right now for instance. I can't wait to go home and see my Mister Puppy Pants.

2002-11-07T17:14:00.000-06:00

Um, yeah....that'd be great. Thanks.

Quick bitch? Thanks. I scheduled vacation time next week months ago. Then I found out that I have far more vacation days left than I thought and, since mine don't roll over and we're not paid for them dadgumit, I am going to take each every last second I can get, right? Right. So, I'm going to the mountains on Thursday, and I thought I would add a couple days on during this non-offensive, non-holiday time of the month, right? Right. Except that now work's blowing up in my face again and it looks like it will be better for me to just come in on Wednesday to avoid the inevitable stress caused by not coming in when I know there's work to do. Those feelings of guilt are conflicting with my feelings that it's the principle of the matter. I should be able to take my freakin's vacation days when I freakin' want to? Right?!?! Right?!?!

Right.

Right.

We'll see.

Fuck!

2002-11-06T15:49:00.000-06:00

I've been working in politics for five years now. I worked for my State Representative and a member of Congress. I've volunteered for campaigns, and worked with legislation and legislators in all 50 states. And I'm still doing it, working in public affairs. I never really thought I'd do what I'm doing. I never thought I'd be as initimately familiar with the different state processes as I am, either. I kind of stumbled in to my first job and have been bitten by the bug ever since. And for the most part, it fits. I love working with legislation more than with legislators but until you've worked for an absolutely psychotic and abusive member of congress who shatters any hope or dream you may have had that politicians on the federal level are at least inherently good people, you will not understand what I mean by that. So anyway, having been so involved, watching election returns for me is like candy. It was the same way last night. A total on-the-edge-of-your-seat night! I can't say I'm especially thrilled with the results, but hey. That's why they call it politics. It'll swing back, and then swing back again like a giant pendulum that keeps tracing the same line back and forth.

It is exciting, though, to jump on to the pendulum and go for the ride. I'm holding on tight.

2002-11-05T09:42:00.000-06:00

Have you voted yet today?

2002-11-04T16:07:00.000-06:00

Is it Friday, yet?

Not too much to report today. The weekend was low-key. It was rainy and cold and so we all stayed in and read a lot. Well, the boyfriend and I read and the beagle baby slept.

Today I received a wayward e-mail from match.com saying that my message to "sweetlioness" was undeliverable because my name was unrecognizeable. Hmmm, perhaps that's because I never registered at Match.com. Funny, though, to get that. Shortly after I received that I went to heat up my lunch and ended up burning my thumb. Owee.

2002-11-01T09:33:00.000-06:00

Are We Not Men? Nope.

So the Devo/weekend plans just fell through. My friend's sick and, upon further consideration, it was found that the overnight stint would be too rushed. So we're going to re-schedule. That's okay. It'll be nice to stay home and not have to pay for a dog sitter. Ok, yeah, I'm a little disappointed.

One thing I am not thinking about is the ex getting married today. No sir. Nope. Not at all.

The boyfriend and I are still going to treat this weekend like a mini-break.

2002-10-31T10:31:00.000-06:00

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!

2002-10-30T17:34:00.000-06:00

Did he have it coming?
vs.

?????

2002-10-30T15:16:00.000-06:00

How funny. I entitle my last post Finger Lickin' Good, and then I get this e-mail from a friend that is simply too good not to post.

Subject: The screen door clearly slammed on someone's head at an early age

So on our last night in London, we caught a delightful farce at the Criterion, followed it up with a tasty dinner at the Hard Rock Cafe, and retired to our hotel to begin the process of stuffing eight days' worth of souvenirs into two small bags.

It was during this process that Sarah* turned on telly and began channel surfing, and soon she stumbled upon MTV-Europe's rebroadcast of Bruce's "Unplugged, But Not Really" special from 1995. Since she is a really wonderful person -- and the alternative was a Snooker tournament on BBC2 -- she deigned to cease surfing and watch it with me.

As the Boss sang classic after classic, I would turn to her with hope in my heart and say, "you know THIS song, right??" But alas, the only tune with which she was remotely familiar was "Glory Days." What can you do? If there was a good taste pill, I'd have crumbled it over her apple strudel in Cologne, but I digress.

Finally, Bruce begins his Nebraska classic, "Atlantic City." Now as you no doubt are aware, it opens with the brilliant line, "well they blew up the chicken man in Philly last month....." and continues with an eloquent yet raging indictment of the government-assisted corporate ritual of raping the lower classes to fill its own pockets and the devastation that lies in its wake after they've taken the money and run, perfectly precipitating the Reagan/"Greed is Good" cultural nightmare that was about to unfold. You know that, and I know that, and if a certain person had listened to the song, SHE would have known that.

But when God accidentally installs a pushpin on your neck instead of the standard-issue brain on heaven's assembly line, you find that life often holds more challenges for you then the rest of humankind. And our Pinhead could not get past that first line, and began peppering me with so many stupid questions it would put a roomful of preschoolers to shame: "They blew up the chicken man? Why? Did he owe them money? Did someone break a tooth on an errant bone? Did he shortchange them on the coleslaw? Was he part of the dreaded White Meat Mafia? Which chicken man was he -- Popeye? Kenny Rogers? Dear God, they didn't whack the Colonel, did they? Did they think he only used 10 herbs and spices on their order? Were their fingers not as tasty as he had advertised? How could they do that to such a nice old man, and a war veteran to boot?" The more I begged her to listen to the entire song, the tizzier she got.

It took some doing, but I finally threw some water on the pin, assured her that Harland had died a peaceful sleep in his goosefeather king in 1980, and encouraged her to breath into a handy brown paper bag. By this time the concert had been over for 20 minutes, so we turned in, attempting to get a few hours shut-eye before having to arise at the crack of ass to catch the shuttle to Heathrow. But the dark silence was soon shattered by one last question -- it seems the pins thoughts had continued to stream faster than a broadband on crack, and she begged me to set her mind to rest by answering just one question: "Did the chicken man have it coming?"

So in case you ever talk to Sarah and the subject comes up, here's our story, and we're sticking to it: He was a bad, bad, chicken man. He passed off backs as breasts, skimped on the batter, and never washed his hands after using the bathroom. He also sought to enrich his empire by lacing his chickenfeed with steroids, producing a flock of hens who looked astonishingly like the East German Women's Swim Team. This guy made Saddam Hussein look like the Dali Lama. Really. Swear if you have to.

If you ever find yourself sharing a hotel room with her, you'll thank me for this.

*Not her real name.

2002-10-30T15:03:00.000-06:00

Finger Lickin' Good

I swear. I just want to pour BBQ sauce all over Beck and lick him like a rib.

2002-10-28T16:45:00.000-06:00

Caring is Sharing

I love that my office neighbor just came into my office and handed me the Fugazi Instrument soundtrack, saying, "I've been listening to this all day and now you must listen to it." In exchange I gave her the new S-K.

And the Cutest E-mail award goes to...
From: Boyfriend
Subject: Good Morning Phone Call

Ring, Ring.....

Hello, this is your good morning I love you call.....

It has been translated into e-mail format to save your voice.....

Good Morning, I Love You.....

Bye, bye now.....

2002-10-28T08:47:00.000-06:00

I Think That Maybe God Wears a Stetson and Boots

This weekend was very fun, despite a sudden onset of laryngitis which proved to be quite annoying since I hadn't seen my friend since May and we really, really needed to talk. We stayed in Friday night, made spaghetti and got tired. Then we woke up bright and early Saturday morning, me with absolutely no voice now, and set out for College Town, USA. It was funny being back there because I am now one of the people that bugged the shit out of me during busy football weekends. I've changed. I wanted to buy lots of college mascot stuff, feeling like I must stock up before I move away and never, ever go back. One item in particular intrigued me - it was a plush toy that played the school fight song when you pressed it's foot. I found it very nostalgic even though while I was in school I was not a hooray hurrah person at all.

I lived in that town for seven years. This weekend, I saw many familiar faces but could not remember a damn name to save my life. I felt remarkably unattached to the place. Maybe it was the space I put between it and myself but it's full of ghosts and after filling my belly with a breakfast unique to it, I was ready to leave. It was almost like I had never lived there. I feel like it owes me something in a way because I went through so much while I was there. But, no. Funny thing - a person standing in line behind me for the concert I went to was from out of town. he asked me if I knew where he could go "for some fun after the show." I seriously was unable to answer that question. Unless, of course, he wanted to play pinball, play scrabble, or go to the nearest Dunkin' Donuts 35 miles away.

So anyway, the concert was incredible!!! Definitely one of my top 15 best shows. Plus, the audience was full of cowboys and you know how I love cowboys. Hoo wee, there were some mighty fine lookin' individuals in the audience. And, four pitchers between the four of us later, everything just kind of clicked. I was so happy. I think that maybe in a past life I was from Texas. Texas country is where it's at!

My voice is still gone, but I don't care. I figure, if it's going to get worse, let the cause be my singing my heart out at a country show.

2002-10-25T15:42:00.000-05:00

Sweet personified.

I love my boyfriend because he calls me at work and greets me by saying, "hello beautiful girlfriend!" Or, because I almost always work later than he does, he'll call me and put the dog on the phone so when I answer all I hear is heavy dog breathing.

2002-10-24T16:26:00.000-05:00

"I've glimpsed the future and all I can say is....go back."

A group of college kids just came through here and, being part of the intern coordinating team, it was my responsibility to talk to them about what it is that I do. I hate doing it because I can never really explain what it is that I do. And, given my recent frame of mind, I really don't care about what I do. So I sat up there and was all nerves, stringing together a succession of sentences in no real order trying to sound enthusiastic about my job in front of eager college students, some of whom expressed intense desires to do what I do and work where I work. At one point during the spiel, I paused and actually said, "wow. I'm blanking." an instant after I said it I realized I didn't mind that I just looked like a dear in headlights in front of 20 people. How odd, to not give a shit. I recouped and finished and then asked for questions. Many questions were asked, and I gave answers and advice and realized how much I miss school, and how much I want to go back; do it all over again. I want to live at the college radio station, drives miles for donuts at 2 a.m., go on pinball field trips, sit and listen to a record over and over and over because it means everything, spend all my money on shows and thrift store clothing, roll out of bed and shuffle to class, all the while hoping I get to see that one person I'm in love with that week across the quad.

Meanwhile, they're all wanting to get on with their lives. Funny how that works.

This weekend, I will get a little of that back. I have a friend coming to visit who was my college roommate and my confidante. She's the closest thing I have to a sister, we think so alike. All we really do together is laugh. She's a touchstone for me, somone who brings out the best in me and reminds me who I am.

Then, next weekend, I'm going up to see her for Halloween. We are going to be Devo and rabble-rouse.

2002-10-24T12:38:00.000-05:00

Is this what you expected?
Flat and empty, how I feel?
The brain is emptied out and clean
Clean is not a state that's real

So take what you are given
Just forget what you deserve
People think you're out there living
But you fell from the curve

Give me a name
Right now I'm just a cycle
Waiting to end
Right now I feel recycled
And I'm ready to leave again

Some tree in bloom like crazy hair
Some man in feathers flying
I want to stay I don't I'm lying
Getting used to it's what I feel
So much to answer for
We have so much to answer for
So sick of talking about it
Falling asleep on the floor

Give me a name
Right now I'm just a cycle
Waiting to end
Right now I feel recycled
And I'm ready to leave again

And I'm ready to leave again

2002-10-23T13:47:00.000-05:00

This morning, my boss and I talked solely about hair for a solid 20 minutes. The convo was triggered by the fact that I 'poo'd this morning, as it were. (shame on me. look at what you did! look at what you did!) I did, I broke down and used glorious shampoo and my trusty hairdryer and blew my hair straight. And you know what? It feels great! Boticelli curls or no, in the colder months I can actually wear my hair straight and I live all year to be able to do that. When it starts to get warmer I will experiment more but not now. Now I am happily attached to my trusty Conair.

And I am happily attached to discussing things such as hair. It's funny - I can almost memorize books and magazines related to fitness, fashion, haircare, and dog breeds. But when it comes to other topics, such as those, oh I don't know, important for work? No sir. All the info. just slips right outta my head.

Yesterday I realized that I'm in the midst of a breakdown (I say that in the pop psychology sense of the word, not anything else, although sometimes, I think the two are indistinguishable) that I can't seem to get out of. Like, whenever I think of possibility, all that hits me is FAILURE. I think it has a lot to do with this job that just twists and stretches me all the time (gauntlet, not yoga), and I never feel like I'm good at anything. And then I have no time to concentrate on anything else, and when I leave for the day, my mind is pickled and all I can do is say, "Hello doggie," "hello boyfriend," and "Cool. Everybody Loves Raymond's on." Then it's time for bed, to get up and do it all over again.

I feel like I'm a kid making a snow angel. "I'm making my mark! I'm making my mark!" then I get up and see that the snow's all caved in to where I was and I realize, "my mark's gone."

Last night all I could muster was the effort to watch Flashdance in the hopes that it would inspire me to work out. This is what it has come to.

So anyway, I need to make my mark. Some kind of mark. I need to get back to self. I feel pathetically average. And I'm not saying that to elicit sympathy. I'm saying that because it's the first time I've really felt this way. What am I good at anymore? My identity is sort of lost. At home I am safe. Outside, I feel truly insignificant.

2002-10-22T17:32:00.000-05:00

On my way out of the house this morning, I hastily put some half and half in my to-go cup, put some sugar in the half and half, and grabbed a bag of organic assam tea looking forward to filling said cup with water, steeping the tea, and enjoying my morning hot drink. As I filled the cup with the hot water from the spigot on the coffee machine, I realized that the cream was curdling. Drat. The dairy product was off, and now I was tealess. However, determined to not let it get me down (I've been such a salty dog at work recently and I told myself last night that I was going to 'rinse off,' as it were, and be positive on Tuesday), I poured some powdered creamer into the cup, added more sugar, and tried again with a tea bag from the emergency supply of English Breakfast I carry around with me. Though passable, it wasn't the same.

Shame, really. I never like to waste good tea.

2002-10-21T14:58:00.000-05:00

Plus, he's 'eloping' to the local courthouse. Yes, it's all silly.

I wonder if there's a copy of "Eloping for Dummies" he can check out?

2002-10-21T14:21:00.000-05:00

Oh my God. He's eloping. November 1.

Why am I crying over this?

2002-10-21T14:15:00.000-05:00

So a friend of mine who's still in touch with the ex just tells me she has news and wanted to know if I wanted to know. I know that she wouldn't bother if it wasn't at least mildly significant so of course I want to know and my heart is pounding just thinking about it.

I bet he's getting married.

2002-10-21T09:20:00.000-05:00

In other news, I don't no how much longer I can live the no 'poo lifestyle. I haven't touched my hairdryer in two weeks and I'm going through withdrawal. I feel and look like a Kewpie Doll.

Weird dream I had this weekend:
I adopted a dachsund. And then she started talking to me. And then she morphed into a thing with a dachsund body with a pretty girl's head and she kept on talking to me so we went out for coffee.

2002-10-21T08:44:00.000-05:00

There's nothing like travelling around the state to small towns to remind yourself that where you live isn't small. We spent the night in a small town in the southern part of the state Friday night, about an hour from where we put in (canoe talk for "started.") It was gray and a bit rainy but nevertheless, canoeing rules! Being in the great outdoors is a sure remedy to renew and refresh one's spirit. It was a short trip - only about 9 miles down the river. I came very close to adopting a stray foxhound that was hanging around where we took out (canoe talk for "ended.") As what happens with most dogs and I, we made an instant connection. He was beautiful but skinny. I would have named him Paddler. Alas.

Anyway, back at work. Must decide what I want to do when I grow up.

2002-10-18T15:36:00.000-05:00

Yesterday sucked. After work, I went home, took a bath, drank some scotch and cried. My boyfriend asked what he could do to help. I said (for the millionth time), "move away with me."

He said he would. For the millionth time.

It's not that I have a bad life here. To the contrary, to the onlooker it would appear that I am doing well: good job with highly reputable, prestigious company; nice apartment; unbelievably adorable dog; loving, caring, and infinitely thoughtful boyfriend. Except that I am not happy here. I haven't been since I got here. I haven't felt like myself for two and ahalf years. All of this, I said last night (talking about my job and this city), is like a dead-end relationship. Why bother if you know it's not going to go anywhere.

How I got here: I left the womb of my college town nearly four years ago on not so great terms. Basically, I was running away; I left the day after the termination of a long-term relationship. I went to a city to which I had wanted to move since 5th grade (I remember the precise moment I swore to myself I'd go back there and live) and, though it was a rocky beginning, I fell into an amazing group of friends and a lot of excitement. It was my renaissance. My current boyfriend moved out there, too, to see if he had a chance with me. He did. Then he started making noise that he wanted to move back to his hometown, that he hated the city and the attitude. So, here we are. Neither one of us especially thrilled with it now.

I blamed him a lot in the beginning - for making me leave my friends and the fun and that side of the country. For saying living with his sister for a while would be "fine" when it was hell. But I've stopped that now. Now I can't believe that it's been 2 and a half years and I'm still here. I feel like I gave in. I feel like I don't have much time left in my life to make big changes.

I know non of that is true, of course. And I know that where one lives shouldn't really matter more than with who one lives. But there's something to be said for being in your element. And there's something to be said for being responsible for making whatever element you're in yours. So I don't know. This city is fine but it isn't mine. And I don't want it. I'm still pining for what I had.

Anyway, it's mine to get over, I suppose.

New topic, more upbeat.

I'm going canoeing this weekend for the first time (I grew up by the beach and didn't really participate in any wilderness-like activities, unless you count the marine biology summer camp I attended one. Horshoe crabs really are neat.) In preparation for the trip I watched the L.L. Bean Guide to Canoeing video featuring Canoer extraordinaire Ken Stone. Ken showed me how to canoe in two settings: a perfectly still lake and whitewater. Tomorrow, I will not be canoeing on either. I'll be on a river with varying currents none of which, I'd imagine, will reach the whitewater level.

2002-10-18T12:31:00.000-05:00

In the mail today I received a 2003 calendar. The 2003 Dog Poop Calendar, to be exact, Monthly Doos. Each month, there is a picture of a pile of dog poop (obviously that of a large dog) in a pristine, month-relevant setting. January offers poop on snow. October offers poop nestled in a pumpkin patch. December offers Santa checking his shoe after just having stepped in it.

Monthly Doos was sent to me by a person I work with in Portland, Ore. I want to put it up in my office but is that too disgusting?

2002-10-17T14:08:00.000-05:00

2002-10-17T09:00:00.000-05:00

You know I love words, right? Ever since I was little, I’ve loved them. Love to read out loud. Love to read, period. Words, words, words. Big ones, small ones, obnoxious ones, made-up ones. Well, on the flip side of that, there are some words that I really don’t like. Have I told you this? I think I’ve told you this. Anyway, one word for which I harbor much disdain is the word ‘tit.’ Almost worse than that is its plural, ‘teat.’ So, it’s only natural then that I dislike, in addition to the afore-mentioned words, their cousin, ‘nipple.’ Just thought I’d share. Boobies? No problem. Gazongas, melons, bought-and-paid-for? Fine. Any euphemisms for ‘n-----s?’ Please, no flavor-type references. And, yes, in case you were wondering, other somewhat associated words I dislike are: discharge, moist, and yeast.

Ah, we all have our quirks.

2002-10-16T09:35:00.000-05:00

This morning when I woke up my left eye was swollen shut. I looked gooooood. It's open now, but a bit red. I'm an eye rubber. I rub my eyes while sleeping, sometimes furiously, only to wake up bloodshot and teary. When I was small, I used to rub my nose habitually. My dad said if I kept it up it would fall off. I never liked my nose so I thought that would be ok, I'd just get a new one.

Today is bosses day. I had no idea. Everyday is bosses day, isn't it? Anyway, I'm technically a boss, which is endlessly trippy to me, and my assistant gave me a honkin' caramel apple rolled in pecans. Dee-licious! Me likey unexpected gifts.

So I'm still working on "discovering my inner curl." I've leaped onto the "no 'poo" bandwagon and seeing what happens. So far, I feel that I look like I have Amadeus Mozart's hair style. I'm all representing baroque-like, ya'll.

2002-10-15T15:03:00.000-05:00

I was curious as to how many donut holes equal a whole donut. I still don't know how many, but I did find this. This service doesn't exactly sell itself now, does it? Nor does it sell donuts.

2002-10-15T08:38:00.000-05:00

The Sniper is making me sick. The shooting last night was way too close to home. Too close to where some of my closest friends live. Too close.

2002-10-14T09:28:00.000-05:00

Oh it's Monday and I don't want to be at work! Like, really badly. I fruitlessly resent all those who have Columbus Day off. How was the weekend for you? Mine was okay. A friend visited on short notice and, though it was nice, seriously cut into my sloth time. That sounds terrible, doesn't it? Oh well. I feel justified since I work at least 50 hours a week and haven't had a real, honest to goodness vacation since 1995. My weekends are ever so precious. I don't even like to make plans. And my next three wekkends are officially booked. All with fun things but blah. Again - no real sloth time. No vegging out to Trading Spaces and Real World repeats. No spontaneous long park walks in sunny, brisk weather. Oh, I'm ridiculous, aren't I? Shamelessly selfish with my time. This coming weekend I'm going canoeing with my boy and his dad. I've never been canoeing. I was given an L.L. Bean Guide to Canoeing video that I have yet to watch. It's gonna be cold. I have convertibe, quick-dry pants, though, and Teva-esque shoes (they're actually Chacos - pretty ugly and Roman looking but oh my they are SO comfortable that I don't care), and lots of Polartec wear. I'm somewhat of a Patagonia, etc. whore. I love the stuff, I can't help it. (doing communications/PR for Patagonia would be so killer, wouldn't it?) I could be dressed in Polartec, from head to toe, every (chilly) day and be happy. Fleece pants. Do you have these? If not, get some! You look like you have load in your pants but it's so worth it.

Ok, enough with my Ode to Fleece.

I'm experimenting with my curly hair. I am a curly girl and I'm embracing it for the first time in my life. I'm going to let it grow again, I think. In other news, I'm kind of scaring myself with how much country I'm listening to lately. It's been a big build up since I went to and fell in love with Texas early this year. Question - can I listen to the new Sleater-Kinney and then turn around and then sing along with the new Diamond Rio song?

Of course I can, silly. Of course I can.

2002-10-11T13:22:00.000-05:00

I have Blogger Block. Which is strange, because my job is basically all writing, and I successfully participate in clever e-mail exchanges with friends daily. So why is it that I have a block with the blog? Is it because I work better when given a subject about which to write? Is this a throwback back to the day when I realized that being a reporter was not for me because I was too lazy to go out and get the story? Could it honestly be that I am too lazy to go and get a story/topic about myself and post it here for you to read?

Oh, that's pathetic.

2002-10-09T08:43:00.000-05:00

Japanese Masters Get Closer to the Toilet Nirvana
The New York Times, October 8, 2002
By JAMES BROOKE

NARA, Japan - Japan's toilet wars started in February, when Matsushita engineers here unveiled a toilet seat equipped with electrodes that send
a mild electric charge through the user's buttocks, yielding a digital measurement of body-fat ratio. Unimpressed, engineers from a rival company, Inax, counterattacked in
April with a toilet that glows in the dark and whirs up its lid after an infrared sensor detects a human being. When in use, the toilet plays any of six soundtracks, including chirping birds, rushing water, tinkling wind chimes, or the strumming of a traditional Japanese harp. In a Japanese house, "the only place you can be alone and sit quietly
is likely to be the toilet," said Masahiro Iguchi, marketing chief for Inax.

This may be one explanation for the ferocious toilet research going on in Japan. This is a nation famously addicted to gadgetry of any variety, and the addiction clearly extends to the bathroom. Another factor stimulating toilet research is the fact that Japan's population is peaking and the number of households is expected to start declining by the end of the decade. Some money can be made by exporting toilets to countries with comparatively primitive toilet cultures, like China and Vietnam. But in Japan the real sales growth will be found by adding exotic toilet
features.

Matsushita, for example, introduced in May a $3,000 throne that not only greets a user by flipping its lid, but also by blasting its twin air nozzles - air-conditioning in the summer, heat in the winter. Patting this Cadillac of toilets, Hiroyuki Matsui, chief engineer here, said, "You can bring a bathroom temperature down by 7 degrees Celsius in 30 seconds."

Then in June, Toto, Japan's toilet giant, came out with WellyouII, a toilet that automatically measures the user's urine sugar levels by making a collection with a little spoon held by a retractable, mechanical arm. Whether a home medical center or a Zen space for meditation, the toilet of the future will probably emerge from laboratories like the ones here at the Matsushita Electric Industrial Company - workshops so secretive and competitive that a visiting reporter and photographer were not allowed inside. Americans should prepare for more than that simple 20th-century choice: to flush or not to flush. Users of the Matsushita toilet can program it to pre-heat or pre-cool a bathroom at a specific time at a set temperature. For owners who might not be so regular, this toilet allows users to set the temperature and pressure of a water jet spray used to wash and massage the buttocks, an enormously popular feature in Japan.

Toilet jet sprays, which sometimes confuse foreign visitors with disastrous results, are now in nearly half of Japanese homes, a rate higher than that of personal computers.
To some, this is a sign of a nation gone perilously soft. They worry that the cosseted Japanese youths of the future, sitting dreamily on air conditioned thrones, will be no match for their squat-toilet neighbors - the worker bees of industrial China or the spartan soldiers of North Korea.

Hideki Nishioka, a 90-year-old retired professor who chairs the Japan Toilet Association, a private group, says he always recommends that new schools in Japan contain "at least one or two of the old-style squat toilets."

But they increasingly look like relics. Talking toilets are on the horizon. Equipped with microchips, these models would go beyond music, greeting
each user with a personalized message, perhaps a recorded word of encouragement from Mom or a kindergarten teacher. In return, people will soon be able give their toilets simple verbal commands. The voice sensor - `open sesame' and the lid opens - that will be on the market in two years," predicted Ryosuke Hayashi, manager of product engineering for Toto, a company that holds 60 percent of Japan's commode market. "It really is not difficult to make it responsive to a human
voice. If you tell the machine, `I want hotter water,' or `I want stronger spray pressure,' the machine will automatically respond."

Attacking a perennial issue, Toto sells a deodorizing toilet that "chemically neutralizes odor." Inax sells bathroom tiles billed as "odor absorbing." But in a country with the demographics of Florida, the real growth will
be medical toilets linked to the Internet. "You may think a toilet is just a toilet, but we would like to make a toilet a home health measuring center," Mr. Matsui, the Matsushita engineer, said in a lecture here in Nara, near Osaka. "We are going to install in a toilet devices to measure weight, fat, blood pressure, heart beat, urine sugar, albumin and blood in urine."

The results would be sent from the toilet to a doctor by an Internet-capable cellular phone built into the toilet. Through long-distance monitoring, doctors could chart a person's physical well-being. "We will have this within five years or so," said Harry Terai, director
of home appliances research for Matsushita. With nursing homes largely full in Japan, the number of older people
under home care is rising fast, jumping by nearly one quarter just last year.

"In Japan, most people see the doctor after they become ill," said Hironori Yamazaki, a Toto engineer. "With an eye to our demographic change, we are setting out to make the toilet a space for the early discovery of disease."

But some civil libertarians are having nightmares about "smart toilets" running amok, e-mailing highly personal information hither and yon. There are also Big Brother nightmares about master computers monitoring millions of bowel movements, checking around the clock to see who is constipated, who is not eating his peas and who is drinking too much.

"I assume the records that come out of my toilet will have the same degree of protection as records that are generated when I take a medical exam," said Lawrence Repeta, a director of the Japan Civil Liberties Union.
"There will be police investigators who see this as a great tool to find people who use illegal substances."

2002-10-09T08:00:00.000-05:00

A funny story. Well, not really. Yet. A few months ago, a dear, dear friend of mine and I thought how fun it would be to go to our old college town for the homecoming football game and drink and cavort and be stupid (we didn't do too much drinking while roommates in college because, well, I hung out with X straight edge people and didn't drink. Of course, for me, it wasn't a matter of Minor Threat proportions, it was more a matter of my "Asian Flushing Syndrome" i.e., I don't have an eznyme in my blood that metabolizes alcohol like some people do, so I turn red and my heart rate elevates when I drink. It's frequent in Filipinos, less frequent in Koreans, so really it's a crapshoot. Anyhoo, I have it more under control now and imbibe when the mood strikes). So my friend made reservations at the hotel downtown and we weren't going to have to drive and it was going to be great.

So I tell my best girl about these plans (figuring she wouldn't want to go to the game anyway, thereby alleviating the guilt I felt about going without having her be the main object of my affections. love you.) and she says, "The hotel downtown closed. It was condemned. A year ago." Hmmm, that's strange because WE MADE RESERVATIONS AT THAT HOTEL. Like, someone answered the phone, said they were the hotel downtown, took cc information and booked us a room. ONLY THERE IS NO ROOM because THERE IS NO HOTEL THERE.

So, here we are, hotelless. I know it will work out one way or another and we'll still go. This just sort of crimps our plans. Wah.

2002-10-08T18:17:00.000-05:00

Here's a joke:

A group of men are in a bar. They’re slowly but surely getting drunker and drunker. Suddenly, one man starts yelling at another man, “I fucked your mother!” he yells. Naturally, people around the men were shocked. “I fucked your mother!” The man yells again, more belligerently. This time, the other man stood up. The bar was silent, anticipating his response.

“Ok, dad,” he said. “You’ve had enough.”

At the right time, with the right amount of alcohol in you, that joke'll about knock you out of your seat.

2002-10-03T17:15:00.000-05:00

This is a real story, yo. True.

CNN News Gettin' Jiggy With da Jive Talkin'
By a Washington Post Staff Writer
Thursday, October 3, 2002; Page C01

News item: CNN Headline News, in an effort to improve its ratings and image among young viewers, is discussing using "cutting-edge" slang on its newscasts. In an internal memo cited by media organizations this week, a CNN producer suggested adding hip-hop phrases such as "flava," slang for "style," to make the news more accessible to a younger audience.
[Voice of James Earl Jones]: "This is CNN Headline News, the dopest news network."
Anchor Rudi Bakhtiar: "Yo, 'sup, y'all. This is Rudi Bakhtiar, in the hizzy in Atlanta, with tha latest 4-1-1 from CNN Headline News . . ."
[Cue up photo of President Bush]
Bakhtiar: "President Bush laid another smackdown on Iraq today, suggesting that Saddam Hussein must be trippin' if he thinks tha United States will back down from its campaign to stop the Iraqi dictator. Wolf Blitzer has more."
Blitzer: "Rudi, President Bush was representin' again today. He told congressional leaders he would deploy America's military might to bust a cap in Saddam if tha Iraqi leader continued to stand in tha way of U.N. weapons inspectors."
[Roll footage]
President Bush: "America must assert its global leadership. It cannot stand idly by in the face of an imminent threat. And it will not."
Blitzer: "In essence, Rudi, what tha president is saying to Hussein is 'Check yourself, fool.' Republicans praised tha president's resolve as off tha chain, and said America should smack Hussein upside tha head. But Democrats aren't down wit dat. Know what I'm sayin', Rudi?"
Bakhtiar [cross-talk]: "So, Wolf, it sounds as if the U.S. is staying all up in Saddam's grill."
Blitzer: "Straight up, girlfriend."
Bakhtiar: "Thanks, Wolf. In other news, the stock market was illin' again today. Lou Dobbs has our report."
Dobbs: "Rudi, it was wack again on Wall Street. The Dow Jones Industrial Average lost 183 points. The Nasdaq was disrespecting investors, too. The economy doesn't appear to be getting jiggy anytime soon. So it looks like there won't be much bling-bling under the tree this Christmas. Rudi?"
Bakhtiar: "For real, Lou. And I guess investors can forget about remodeling the crib or shopping for a fine new ride, eh?"
Dobbs: "Serious! Get used to that hoopty."
Bakhtiar: "Thanks, homey! Turning to entertainment news now. 'My Big Fat Greek Wedding' continues to be Hollywood's flyest flick. Correspondent Kendis Gibson gives us the lowdown. Kendis?"
Gibson: "Are you kidding, Rudi? We're doing another story on 'My Big Fat Greek Wedding?' I mean, hasn't everyone already heard enough about that movie? Could we be any more un-hip?"
Bakhtiar: "Chill, my man! Can't you recognize when a gigantic media conglomerate run by middle-aged white men in baggy suits is trying to pander to the youth demographic? . . . Well, that's our news at this hour. Thanks for watching CNN Headline News. Peace. B-dog, out."

2002-10-03T08:55:00.000-05:00

Sorry I haven't written. Work has been so consistently crazy I haven't had the time.

Ok, I'm having a total corporate tight-ass moment. We have casual Fridays here (read: you can wear jeans on Fridays). So, in light of the Susan G. Komen/Lee fundraiser, if we made a donation, we could wear jeans on Thursday and Friday (oooooh...such a carrot...). So here I am, wearing jeans. I think I'm one of the four people who actually are. No one else could get their corporate head out of their ass to pass up the dry clean only items this morning and don some denim. The result: I feel like a slob in the office. Oh, sure, a lot of people say that "I don't really wear jeans anyway," or, "I only have one pair and they're dirty." Whatever. Even though I have, like, 15 pair of jeans (hey, I have a jean weakness), I still don't think that's an excuse. Good thing I didn't wear my cool, black, stretchy, butt-huggers today. Harumpf.

2002-09-25T18:10:00.000-05:00

Up most of the night last night coughing. My pup and boy were so sweet, though. The boy rubbed my back, and the pup just looked at me like he wanted to help. Last night, my hairdresser also told me that he isn't moving to San Diego. phew.

Another crazy day. I will write something at least a bit substantial soon. Ok. I have to give my boss a ride home now. My car's a pit. West Wing season premier tonight. Woohoo!!

2002-09-24T11:08:00.000-05:00

Missed a day yesterday. Sorry. So swamped. BUT, I am stoked that it's acting like fall outside. It's about time.

Also, I want to send a shout-out to my best girl who totally rules and just secured a kick-bum concert. (I'm knocking on wood for you anyway, fyi.)

So, yeah, what else? Allergies have been bad. The asthma is acting up in a big way. Also, anyone have any recommendations for a facial cleanser and moisturizer?

2002-09-20T18:26:00.000-05:00

What a day!!

It started with a worsening cold and fatigue which fostered my crying fit that occured in my office for 15 minutes between 9 a.m. and 9:15 a.m. I snapped out of it, but sometimes it's like, if I'm given one more thing to do, I'm gonna....and I was given, like, five more things to do. And so it goes.

Oh well. It's over. The weekend is here, and that makes me happy. Mama needs to drink some Glenlivet and get some sleep.

nighty-night.

2002-09-19T13:25:00.000-05:00

Silly landlord. Of course we aren't going to pay you five hundred fifty bucks because you had to replace the (already) shittty carpet in our last apartment. May we politely remind you that because of the faulty dishwasher, our apartment flooded, soaking and damaging the carpet? Yeah, you gave us two huge fans, a quick once-over with the industrial vacuum and said check ya later. May we also politely remind you that, during the 'final walkthrough' you said everything looked" fine," like "normal wear and tear," and then signed a paper confirming just that? And it shouldn't really matter that we inadvertently forgot, after asking for a copy of said piece of paper, to grab the signed document before we left the office, because state law says you notified us of the absurd charges too late. Yes, it is simply too late. Looks like you'll be paying us, you fucking bastards.

2002-09-18T09:51:00.000-05:00

I say "Soda" now, but I said "fizzy drink" until I moved.

2002-09-18T09:04:00.000-05:00

Bitch fest. I am going to step up onto my soap box for a sec. so that I can then get off it and return to my day. I'm having one of those weeks. The kind where I feel like if I don't get to take a half-day or something SOON, I am just going to burst into tears. I'm so tired and so cranky and it's not hormonal. I'm sick of work(ing). I'm not made for the work force, I'm just not. And I'm trying to coordinate a 25-city program and I'm stuck researching another issue that just bores me to tears. And I see all these other people taking days off and that's just like rubbing salt into the wound. I need a day. At the spa. Right now, all I want is to curl up with my pup and my boy and look at the fog outside.