Meme from Fringes

First memory
It may be strange, but I sincerely believe that my first memory was in-utero (en?) I remember my father telling my sister to look at the Alligator in It's a Small World at Disneyland. When I asked my mom about it years later, she said that they had indeed gone to Disneyland when she was pregnant with me. Since they split for good not long after I was born, it is doubtful that my parents ever went to Disneyland together again. The next couple of memories were probably aroung 2 yrs. maybe 3. They are far more traumatic.

First injury
HAD to be the time I was at Knotts Berry Farm and I got my fingers shut in the restroom door jam. I would have been 5 or 6. I'm not sure why I rested my hand there, but my poor Seester came bursting out of the restroom when she heard me scream. I remember her comforting me and I remember going to the medical people who put my very squished finger in a splint. They also soaked me in ice water and asked if I was married which pissed me off because they were asking stupid questions. Of course I wasn't married! I got xrays for that one and got to wear my splint at school which of course made me cool.

First lie
First big lie. 5th grade. I was lazy and wanted to socialize instead of doing my big research report on "Explorers" So each day when my teacher would ask where we were on the project, I would tell her I was right were I should be with it. Of course it caught up with me. And I was in huge trouble. I don't really think now that the level of punishment matched the crime, but I was definately miserable for awhile.

First person I admired
Probably my Seester. She is 4 years older and was SO grown up. and SO cool. and she used to sing to me. I just couldn't wait to be like her. I still admire her greatly and look up to her. And she's still there to help when my fingers get stuck in heavy door jams.

First time drunk
I was 18. a little buzzed, not really drunk. And the story isn't exciting. Or really even notable.

First failure
I don't know that I have failed. Have I not succeeded? yeah. many times. have I made mistakes? have I wished I had handled things differently? YES! But I'm still alive, and I learned and I moved on (mostly) I don't call that failure.

First success
I see every day as a success.

First trip abroad
I have yet to leave the country except to go to Mexico, but that doens't count because I haven't been past Roserita and I live in a border town.

First concert.
The Greatful Dead. Thats a good story.

First thing I do when I get up
Turn the sink water on to heat up while I pee.

In other news, I recieved the following message on MySpace yesterday.

How are you doing Ginamonster ?
Are you tired of throwing your money away every time you go and buy hair extensions and get your weave done? If the answer to my question is yes, then check out my page.
I sell the solution to bad hair days. I have sent you a friend’s request.

Have you heard about lace front wigs?
Lace front wigs and full lace wigs are wigs that have invisible hair line that allows hair to appear as the hair is actually growing right from your scalp!!!! and this wig is free style, so it can be parted from anywhere

These wigs are made of the highest quality Indian or Chinese hair and they can be custom made just to fit your head.

I have post some pictures of Beyonce wearing lace front wig. These wigs are so amazing and soooo undetectable to the eye.

Please if you have any questions feel free to send me a note.

Thanks

Joyce

To which I replied...

Hi Joyce,
Thank you for thinking of me. At this time I use neither weaves nor wigs to achieve my hair styles. I also don't believe that Indian or Chinese hair will match the texture and color that natrually grows from my head. Good luck with your business.


In other, other news, I learned yesterday that Coworker K is not only a dad but a Grandpa. Eek! now I'm attracting grandpas! Actually, things have gone back to normal on that front. If anyone acts funny it's me.

Here's the triple other,

I learned last nigh that Wayne "doesn't like" me anymore. Which would explain why he has been doing his best to insult me and try and convince me to quit Harbucks since it's a "waste of my time". Honestly, he's been treating me like the Sportos did in high school. You know, where they make fun of who you are and try to hurt your feelings. Luckily, I like who I am and who I have become and I am not about to change myself because some asshole decides I am not who he wants me to be. I realized back in high school that the people who don't accept me for who I am aren't worth my time. And there is certainly no room in my world for bullies and assholes. I think that once he realized that I wasn't going to sleep with him, he had no use for me. And of course it's my fault in his mind because he's such a catch. I kind of feel sorry for him a little bit. And I am NOT quitting, he can go hang out at another Harbucks if he doesn't want to see me there.

This kind of scares me

I am smarter than 98.81% of the rest of the world.
Find out how smart you are.

I have no title, only sadness

Today we learned, sadly, that Coworker's Best Friend's daughter was killed in a drunk driving accident. She was 15 years old. The driver that hit them was drunk and on drugs, and so, it turns out, was the girl driving the car (drunk). The driver survived and will have to live her entire life knowing that her actions killed a young woman. When CBF learned she had been drinking, she un-invited her to her daughter's funeral.

After the intial shock wore off, I imagined the pain coworker was in at that moment, and wondered what I would say to her when she returned from lunch, I considered the following bit of sadness.

Paris Hilton was sentenced to 45 days in jail for violating the terms of her probation, earned for a drunk driving offense. There are those who believe that Paris should go free, or at least it appears that way. When I checked the website of freeparis.org, and the myspace connected to it, I discovered that although there are a lot of options to buy a t shirt and sign the petition, the 1500 "friends" on MySpace were the kind of spammers that I spend occational evenings clearing out of my "friend request box", neither site had a whole lot of backup, and it looked like a big joke. A way to get publicity.
However, what isn't funny is that Paris thinks she should not have to go to jail. She thinks the judge was being mean to her. Her mother believes that they spent a lot of money and she should not have to go to jail. I think she's lucky not to have killed someone the night she went out for an In and Out Burger (Third person I know of that got a DUI because they were drunk and wanted a burger. One of them almost did kill someone. But he didn't complain about the TWO months he was in jail, he thanked his lucky stars he didn't kill that woman after all).

I fear that she will not learn her lesson. That 30 days in a 10 x 10 with 2 pairs of underwear a week and no privacy will make her feel like a martyr. And those who support her will continue to scream foul because she's rich, famous, beautiful (I don't agree, but eye of the beholder) she shouldn't have to follow the law. I wonder what it will take for our society to understand that we are all equal in the eyes of the law. Or at least, we are supposed to be.

Coworker, when we talked about it, said something that will haunt me for awhile. She said it could have been her son. That her friend had put in the same effort and love raising her daughter as she had her son.
Then, to top it off, she asked me what she was going to tell her son. Because they were close, he and that little girl. they had known each other since they were 5. He had the biggest crush on her.

Tonight Coworker will have to face one of the toughest moments of her parenting career. I wish there was something I could do. But like I told her, I know there is nothing I can say that will make it better.

Perhaps people who get caught DUI should have to attend the funerals of people killed by drunk drivers. Perhaps when they see the pain it causes when a life is taken...No. I think that the kind of people who don't take responsibility for thier actions, who think they are above the law wouldn't be affected.

I heard them call her a role model.

The interview

I almost forgot about PChef's interview! It made me feel like a rockstar-and I don't mean the drink. In fact, I think when I am done with it I shall go flip on the Guns n Roses and dance around in my banjo pants for a bit.



Everybody needs a pair of pink banjo pants. and this picture? makes my ass look small. must have been that whole half hour I spent in the exercize room today. Or it's the fact that I didn't take a picture of my butt...MY GOD! I have zombie hands!

So here it is!


1. After you die, you are given the chance to be reborn as an animal, which animal would you choose?

HMMM. Animals are so incredibly cool that it's hard to choose. And looking around the office, I don't get a whole lot of inspiration since I am surrounded by Potato Heads. I don't think I can come back as one of those. Oh, there's also a monkey and a sock "lemur"



HMMM. I think I would be some sort of feline. big or small. Because I'm a carnivore at heart (hmm. do I want steak for dinner?) and if you pet me enough, I purr.

2. What is the most important thing you've accomplished in your life?

Building a relationship with my family. I see so many that don't get along, who can't stand each other, and I know how blessed I am to have mine. Without them I would be nothing. I also consider it a great accomplishment that I have made peace with my Step Dad. While I will never forget everything that happened back then, at least I can now see through the eyes of an adult that he did the best he could in a situation that I have to admit, I wouldn't choose. It has allowed me to start to build a relationship with him and his "new" little family. I can't imagine my life without him, jill, and the twins even if I don't see them often. That's a big step considering there was a time when I would have been happy to never see him again.

3. After your death, an author will write your biography. What will the title be and who will play you in the movie version?
OOH! It would be something like "Smiling Through the Tears" and I would be played by Scarlett Johanson. She's the only star currently in Hollywood who's boobs are as nice as mine.

4. If you could change one thing about your family, what would it be?

My father. I try to accept him, but I just can't. I want him to be the man I know he can be, but he has allowed his sickness and his drugs to take over his life. I want him to know his grandkids, I want him to have a relationship with his children. What I do accept is that his is a sick man with a serious addiction. and he blames everyone else for his problems. Without proper psychiactric help, he will never be the man he once was. And he won't admit that he needs it. Nor will he admit he has a drug problem. If ever he wants to be a productive member of society, get clean and act like an adult, I will welcome him back into my life. Until then, I won't hold my breath, I'll just remember the good times, like how I only catch fish when I go fishing with him. And how he makes the world's best omlettes.

5. If you were to write a personal ad, what would it say?

Silly, crafty, smartass seeks handsome drug free man with similar attributes to share cookies and laughter. Must like birds, yarn, Disney Movies and soap. Good conversation and a sense of humor is a must. ADD and Witchcraft Tolerant. Shower singers a plus. Must also think banjo pants are sexy.

Long time no...blog?

Or at least it seems like that way. I don't have a whole lot to report. I enjoyed Spiderman. It started out a little slow, but by the end, I was jumping out of my seat. It was fun watching Topher Grace on the big screen. I think he's cute. He played an ass.

Went to play with my friends on Saturday night. It was the first time we had a gathering where the men folk went outside and stayed there, and the ladies, stayed inside. Since I am somewhere in between, it was strange for me. It wasn't a wild party, just a kick back, Usually we all play together, this time, like last, there was a definate seperation of gender. Last time, I went and playeg Guitar Hero with the boys while the women talked about weddings, this time I stayed in and conversed. Felt like I talked about myself a lot. I don't like that feeling. There were a few other feelings I didn't like either, but I won't get into that here. Like Rich, I am feeling less than anonymous these days, which isn't surprising, I am open about my blog, I just don't give out the adress. But it's easy to find if you know me, you know?

was feeling cranky today. At work. I have decided that when my review comes around, (soon) I need to express my discomfort and the way I think we should fix it. You see, CoWorker and I have the same job description. I don't know if I have mentioned that we are supposed to be interchangable. Over the past couple of years, I have watched her take over a good portion of the available job duties. I have grown increasingly insecure about my position. I have tearfully metioned it to Bossman. But still the puch remains that we should be interchangable. That we do the same things. We don't. She has certain duties that I stay away from, although I could take over in an emergency, because they are detail oriented and having more than one finger in the pie could really fuck things up. She doesn't reproduce drawings.

Today, she touched the drawings, doing something that I could have done (because it needed to be done) which would have meant that I would have spent 10 less minutes "goofing off" and 10 more minutes feeling useful to my department. And I became angry.

I kept it to myself as I am wont to do until I can understand why I am angry, and I came to realize that my anger was misdirected. That it isn't her fault she ends up doing all the work while I surf the net until someone makes a drawing request, It's managements responsibility to make sure that duties are evenly distributed. That people have clear, consise job duties, and while cross training is essential, it is just as important that there be a seperation of duties. And EVEN seperation of duties not a "free for all" that goes to the first person to grab the work. The first person happening to be Coworker because she is closest to the door. And she is the type of person who will do any work that comes across her desk. And no matter how often I offer to help, and I do almost every day, she keeps the work because she is probably just as insecure about her position as I am about mine! (and she has 3 kids to support) She wants to make sure she is essential. So do I. And I think i is my management staff's responsibility to ensure that we are both comfortable. I don'e expect to be busy all the time. More frequently would be great.

There was, after all, plenty to do today, and NO time to surf the net which felt pretty good, actually.

Look! Something Shiny!

I spent most of last night playing with my loom and while I am not going to say that I am a master weaver, I seem to be getting the hang of it. I definately think I need to take hre warp off and start from scratch.
Other than that, I had a marvelously thoughtful post while I was in the shower, but now I have forgotten what it was. Remind me not to "sleep on it" any more.
In other news, I have a n interview from Painting Chef, and an award from Michelle! I will put the award sticker on my sidebar one of these days soon and post the interview as soon as I remember I need to do it while at home.
In other, other news, I have tickets to go see Spiderman tonight. neener neener.

about to shut down

I finally got tired of waiting for someone to come along (or me to get the courage to ask, you know, pick one, I know which one is true.) and I gathered up a good dishing of determination (or stupidity, pick one) and hauled my new loom out of the car and up to my apartment. Since I don't have my own camera crew, there are no pictures of me all hot and sweaty carrying it through my apartment complex. Although I can see the street from my tower, I cannot see my car. (actually, the trees are almost completely blocking my porch and bedroom window these days which is WAY COOL. It feels like I live in a tree house) but there is a picture of the loom in it's current home.



I spent a good portion of my evening untangling warp threads (she said it was ready to go, but I think she may have been on crack. Actually, she was a very nice lady. strange, as people of my faith so often are, but nice) and then, after I cut off several lengths of very nice chenille and even nicer (what appears to be) silk, I went ahead and started warping the thing so I can use it. This weaving thing might just kill me because although the HOUR I spent in the exercize room last night didn't seem to hurt me a bit (Are you proud of me? I have been bragging all day. and no, I didn't just read in there, AND I didn't go to look at cute boys, I had the place all to myself, which is just how I like it)

So my back hurts, my shoulders hurt and my hands ache in a way that is abnormal but becoming normal in my world. I stopped for awhile to go get Taco Bell (the drive through boy flirted with me. yes I am bragging, he was like, 16. he actually said to me, "what's a woman like you doing poisoning herself in a place like this?" heh. I told him it is 31 cent scoop night at Baskin Robbins and I thought since I was in the area, I'd Taco Bell it. So I did (I learned that the 1/2 pound bean and rice burrito has TOMATOES in it. I tried to pick them out but I think I might have eaten a couple. thankfully I did not die like the Rock King in Return To Oz). Meanwhile, I ate my two scoops on my way home (I knitted in line and made friends with two children and their mom in the process. apparently, I am no longer frightening to children. they flirt with me a lot too, in their sweet child like way, and it makes me happy)

I thought I would post my very exciting evening before I collapse face first into a pile of dusty yarn. I really fear I might. Goodnight.

Oh boy.

Would you believe that yesterday, a coworker after asking how I am doing, relpied that I am NOT happy, and that I would be happy when I found Mr Right?

I was speechless, and left after she wouldn't listen to my arguments that I don't need a man to make me happy (I believe that if I can't make myself happy, neither can anyone else) because my admittance that having a man in my world would be nice supported her argument.

Later, I felt sorry for her. Because she apparently feels that she needs a man to be happy and can't understand how a woman's life really can feel complete and fulfilled without one.

Just let me be me

Generally, the face I present on any given day is mine. I have grown to accept who I am and I like me. if I come across a trait I don't like, I try to remember to change it. Sure, it is rare that any one person outside of my family and close friends knows me well, but I like to pretend that is part of my allure. And, if you pay any attention to me at all, you know that I'm pretty open.

Most people just don't pay attention.

Last night I went out with the Starbucks crew. I was torn about going because I love being at home so much, but I said I would go and I knew if I went that I would have a good time. And I did.

A couple of things bothered me greatly.

I took my knitting with me, knowing that I would have to wait for people to arrive (I did) and likely a table (we did) I knit, and chatted with the delightful hostess until my group arrived, and then I continued to chat with everyone while we waited for a table. I don't like waiting, and I don't like sitting still. Crafting has become my answer for this problem when reading or sleeping is not an option. Trust me, people get really uncomfortable when I get antsy and start pacing. When we arrived at the table, I proceeded to finish my row so that I could put it away.

From the other end of the table, Wayne yells at me to put away my knitting. He says I'm not 80. I flipped him off, finished my row, and put away my yarn. He announced that he was very impressed with my use of sign language (in different words of course) so I did it again and went back to my conversation.

I generally use profanity sparingly. Mostly because I tend to be at work or in front of children where I don't feel it appropriate to yell "FUCK" across the room. I tend to replace foul language with terms that are more acceptable. FFFFUDGE! or FFFFFOR PETES SAKE, or more recently, CRUMBS!!. I don't know where that last one came from, except it's frustrating when I get crumbs everywhere. I guess my point is, that I am nearing 30. I should not be applauded for my use of profanity. In fact, should I choose to use it, I don't think it should be remarked upon at all.

Partway through my second Mango Margarita, Wayne yells from the other end of the table, "Hey Gina! I'm really proud of you! You're drinking!" to which I replied, "Oh, get over it Wayne, you've seen me drink, and, by the way this is my second one so shut up" and I offered up an example if a time when I not only drank in his presence, but he bought me the drinks.

I don't drink often. I might occationally have one if I feel like it, or if I am out, I might have two if I feel like I can handle it and still go home. I don't think it is cause to celebrate or something worthy of note. I am an adult, if I choose to have a drink, it is my right to do so. Personally? I think it is more something to be applauded when a person can go out and NOT have a drink or 4. I don't drink because I want to get drunk, (usually) I drink bacause Mango Margaritas are yummy.

Aside from Wayne, the girls were also encouraging me to get drunk and party with them. I told them I have to be at work early, but they didn't care. This is behavior I can expect from ladies their age and it didn't really bother me. I hope as they grow more mature that they come to understand that some people don't want to get drunk all the time.

There are two big reasons that I don't drink very much or very often. One is that there us a strong history of drug and alcohol abuse in my family. I have one parent who is a drug addict and another who, if she is not borderline, then she is an unadmittted alchoholic. Her mother is an alcoholic (who, I am very proud to say, has not had a drink in several years. And she has never felt better. Way to go Grandma!) My Seester and I looked at ourselves one day several years ago when we were sharing drinking stories and realized that we should be careful. We promised each other to say something if one of us was getting out of control. Sometimes, that small amount of support is all you need when you admit there could be a problem in the future. The other reason I don't drink often, is that I feel that I have a responsibility to my employer to show up to work ready and able to work. Hangovers are a bitch. So is getting very little sleep. I have enough trouble concentrating without adding a case of the spins and the pervasive scent of alcohol oozing from my pores. ugh. I have learned that I don't need chemicals to have a good time. I like me this way.

For some reason, the topic of my sex life came up. Xtina announced that she is going to start a Rabbit fund for me. I tried to explain that I am not interested in adult toys. She wouldn't back down. a rowdy conversation about adult toys followed. I explained that I have owned them and never used them (Bunco Prizes). I won't go into details, but I just don't like the idea of them for me. Other people can have them all they want. They also told me that I "need to get laid". Since when is that a need? They encouraged me (everyone but the good girls at the table who are waiting until they get married) to go out and find some young guy.

Frankly, I don't understand why people don't get that I am happy. Would it be nice to have someone special in my world? yeah. but I want him to be just that. special. Otherwise, it just isn't worth it. Not worth the frustration of having someone around I would rather not hang with. Not worth the time spent developing something wher there isn't a future. I did that already. Too many times. So no, Bug Guy, I don't really want you to find me a husband. And no, Starbucks crew, I don't "need to go get laid" what I need is to continue to develop myself as a person so that I can be a good partner when the right person comes along.

Time wasting aside, we live in a world where casual sex just isn't safe. Drug resistant strains of transmittable diseases pop up constantly. AIDS is a reality no matter what your age, gender or orientation. for heaven sakes, Herpes. The gift that keeps on giving. NO THANKS. Am I afraid to get out there? yeah. can you blame me? I don't care to be promiscuous. I would much rather "go without". So no more wisecracks about not getting any. apparently, people take me seriously.

No wonder I generally would rather just stay at home.

Saturday, a bunch of the crew are going to the beach to play with Wayne's Snooba. It's a scuba tank on a float with a tube and a regualtor. That way you can "dive" without all the gear. I don't dive. I don't want to dive. I don't want to snooba. Being underwater hurts my ears since they do not pressurize properly, and I don't like breating compressed air. Or through a tube. Snorkling is a struggle for me. Teh only way I will go is with MY snorkle which has a valve on top to keep the water from coming in.

I'm thinking about whether I want to go. It would be fun to go snorkle around and spend the day at the beach. I haven't done that in a long time. It would be fun to spend time with Allison, Steven, and Shaylyn (the "good" kids) I do have fun with the others. But do I really want to spend time with Wayne based on the way he has been treating me lately? Do I really want to hang out with someone who continuously makes fun of me in public for being who I am? So I really want him to see me in my bikini?

I'm torn. I told Steven (who asked me if I was going Saturday, which really made me happy) that my attendance would depend on the mood I am in when I wake up on Saturday. Whether I "feel" like going. So I left myself an out for once. I'm glad I have all week to consider it because I really want to make the right decision for me.

New Horizons

(the title of this post reminded me of a song we sang in 8th grade choir. I'm not sure when it dropped off my shower concert series, but I think I am putting it back in when I start "touring" again)

Things are going to get crazy around work. It will take some time, but, I'm going to be a very busy control monster before too long. We were discussing this today and for the first time in a long time, I am excited about my job. It feels really good. It's the adreneline rush of big things ahead. Of being a aprt of the process. Of helping to make my place of employment even better, and being not a last minute repository, but a true discription of what my position is. (Document Control)

Soon I will have the opportunity to shine. I can't wait.

It will be awkward

Bug guy is getting married in August. In addition to being a bridesmaid, it turns out I am also officiating. (when I learned this I tried to get out of being a bridesmaid. no dice) That's cool though, I'm happy to help out.

Today, I am supposed to meet him and his fiancee for lunch so that we can discuss the ceremony. and so that I can have lunch with them. sweet. Yesterday, he invited our admin too.

Here's the thing. Our admin is the daughter of a Christian Minister. Because of her strong stance on her faith, I choose not to dicuss religion with her. If she knows my faith, she does not discuss it with me. It isn't that I think she would judge me or be mean, but I strongly suspect that the matter of conversation would make her very uncomfortable.

Admin thinks the whole internet ordination thing is just terrible. And I really do understand where she is coming from. Thousands of people getting ordained just for the sake of being. Having no particular calling towards god and no particular desire to do anything with it other than call themselves "Minister". However, I did get ordained for free on the internet and I wouldn't restrict somone elses right to do so. As with anything, this is a matter between me and God.

SO anyway, a couple of weeks ago, Admin asked Bug Guy who was performing the ceremony. We told her I am. She didn't say anything, just kept on with the conversation and a few moments later, asked again. I got the distinct feeling that she didn't like that answer. (I have known this woman for a long time. I can tell when she does not approve) But, it is not up to her, and like it or not, I am a Minister (so now, is Bug Guy. He was bored one night) and just as qualified as anyone else to perform the ceremony.

While I am glad to have her company at lunch, I am not comfortable discussing the ceremony with her there. Don't think that will stop me. It's just going to be an awkward lunch.

In other news, my Seester brought up an excellent point regarding eugenics in email to me and also on her blog. In my quest to reassure her that she would make the right decisions, I didn't think to discuss the overlying questions of eugenics and it's place in our society.

I will admit that I don't really know that much about it. I have never considered it because it is only in recent years that I have considered the idea of having a child. Do I understand why people would want to test to see if there are any "abnormalities" with an unborn child? yes. Do I think a child should be terminated because it is "abnormal"? No. But cultures have been doing it for thousands of years. Of course, putting your child out in the weather to die because she is not perfect is no longer accepted in our society, but apparently, in some circles, not allowing that child to be born is ok.

I would like to think that I would not be able to do it. That I would rise to the challenge of raising a differently abled child as so many people do, with joy. They don't love them less. They (hopefully) don't resent them. I pray that I never have to find out what my choice would be. and because I have a tendency to hide my face, I don't know that I would want to take the genetic tests. Because then I might have to make the choice.

Where is the line, though? Are we talking about severly disabled or maybe just missing a finger? My Seester is creeped out by light eyes, suppose she terminated a non brown eyed child? (She would NEVER do this. EVER, EVER. She has already declared that all light eyed children will go to me.)the point is, where do we draw the line? I don't know what all eugenics can discover. it may be that it only detects things like Downs Syndrome. But I wouldn't give up any of my time with Uncle Georgie, and I hae never known the family of a Downs child to have anything but delight in them. Sure, most people would not choose the dufficult path, but they say it is the most rewarding.

Seester is struggling with it for her own reasons. I think you should wander on over there.

Later:
Lunch went well, athough I over stepped my hour (I don't do that often, but I still feel bad) I stayed a little extra after Admin left to try and discuss it. The bride and groom have no idea what they want said. Time to pull out my creative writing skills.

I was a bad, bad girl

Which is a great way to start a post, don't you think?

truth is, it wasn't really that bad. Not smart financially, but I believe my decision will bring me hours of joy.

I bought a weaving loom yesterday. Used. Excellent deal. can't wait to take it out of my car...

Here's the thing. I had been keeping my eye out. For several months. Then, suddenly, yesterday on craigslist, there it was! 300 bucks! I emailed, she still had it I picked it up. Paid another 100 for all the goodies. (lots of yarn and such)

Turns out, she has had it for sale for a long time, but couldn't find anyone local. Or anyone who wanted to buy it without a bench. (Hello? Chair?) So it sat. And she kept having to repost it online. My search and her post crossed. I guess I was the right one. And? it turns out we share a belief system. (Her boyfriend caught sight of my license plate frame) They were very nice people.

And that is all.

I can't wait to learn how to use it...

I'm off to spin before bed.

No title today

I won't go into detail, because this is a public blog and I don't want any feelings hurt, because I am an impartial party in this situation, but I must say that I am glad that I have learned that there is more than one side to any story, that things are not always as they seem, and to make up my own mind instead of relying on other people's opinions.

Meanwhile, my trip to LA went well this weekend. Wicked, of course, was wonderful, and I rode the Metro! I had never been on underground rail before. I am proud to say that I faced forward and did not feel ill, and that it was all very much cleaner than I expected. My Seester's friends are really fun and comfortable. It was nice meeting them.

And, that's all really, right now. after obtaining his phone number, I decided I wasn't interested in the fellow from MySpace after all. Partially because he doesn't have a car (At my age, in my city, a man needs reliable transportation. And hell if I am going to drive 40 miles round trip every time I want to see someone. He'd have to be pretty special.) Partially because he did come on very strong and I was beginning to think he was looking for a piece, and partially because he reminded me, looks-wise of J the former coworker. My message was short and to the point. Changed my mind, have a good life. I tried to think of a way to soften the blow, or at least make me sound less like a bitch, but I realized that I don't really care if he likes me and I think he can handle it. It's when I pussyfoot around that I get in trouble with these things.

In the mean time, I am becoming reaquainted with an old friend from Jr High, which is cool (different one than the one I was concernd with before) and another friend from back then, who I lost track of about 10 years ago contacted me. I was so happy to hear from Eric I almost did backflips. Except last time I tried to do a backflip, I landed on my head. As for chris? he sure has changed a lot! but I think we all have. We rehashed some old memories and talked about people we knew/know. He invited me out on his boat. I think I'll go sometime. I'm not thinking romance, but reaquaintence. And before you start saying there might be hope, my interest does not lie in that direction. Among other things, I can't imagine spending my weekends speed boating around. But sometimes would be fun!

don't make me be mean to you.

I wanted to try and post the conversation I had last night with a young man who contacted me due to being back on the market. But I don't have the macintosh skills yet. Let me paraphrase.

Him: Hi blah blah blah do you IM

ME: yes, Yahoo, ginamonster, but I am going to bed right now.

Up pops a conversation

H: Hi
M:Hi, I will talk to you later.
H: I thought you would be all giggly and flirty
M: I need to go to bed, I have to get up early
H:I guess you aren't the right girl for me
M:Big assumption considering we just met isn't it?
H: Tomorrow when we talk on the phone you can be all giggily and flirty (I never gave him my number)
M: I have to go to bed. Signing off

two messages to MySpace appear: "You could have been more responsive" (verbal pout, I'd say) then, "Maybe I came on too strong. I would like a chance with you"

So I replied. I explained that I realized I was not a good woman for him. That I am known to be a bit icy and I am proud of it. that I would only hurt his feelings because I could tell he is sensitive (I avoided the term :needy:)

He still wanted a chance.

I replied simply, No.

I hope that's the end of that story because I really don't want to be mean to him. I was really good. Tempted though I was, I refrained from cussing and I did not remind him that he works part time at a shoe store and does not go to school. And he's 25. (I'm getting a strong "I live with mom" vibe) Actually, I wonder if he's the guy who's phone number my mom was so kind as to obtain for me last year about this time. I'm glad she hasn't done that again. I get into enough situations on my own.

Applause from the peanut gallery

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,267383,00.html

Not just to the University President for upholding the right to free speech, but to the College Republicans for making the satirical statement. Because satire, at it's best stems from truth. And it's amazing how much needed change comes of it.

I didn't learn the first couple of times

I switched my MySpace profile back to "looking for dates" since sitting at home knitting isn't doing anyting for my social life and well, sometimes I get lonely. Today was my first day back on the MySpace market. If nothing else, internet dating seems to provide far better blog fodder than "I spun a skein" or "I knit my first pair of slippers today" (I'll post pictures of those another day)
I recieved the following message:

"wow you are stunning i havent had anything take my breath away like that since i got hit in the nuts with a baseball speaking of nuts you sound like youre on the level so get back to me"

To which I replied...

"wow. I hope that I don't cause extreme pain and possible impotence...wait a second...crap."

Which I find exceptionally funny, given my past experiences. I don't really expect to hear back from him after a reply like that. Of course, from his message, he already thinks I'm nuts and still contacted me, so, who knows? He's cute, anyway.

I am off to a monkey meeting. I was invited by one of my crafty friends to go to a coffee shop tonight specifically for the purpose of making monkeys. I am thrilled. Don't tell the Drunkin Monkey though, he's still out of town and will not be happy when he comes home to find a multitude (ok, one or two if we are lucky) of sock monkey siblings. Either way, finishing the half made monkey twins is on my list of things to do before i can break out my spinning wheel again.

Do you remember the time?

Remember Coworker J who I dated who drove me crazy?

He no longer works here. Yes I know why. No, it's not scandelous. But I think that he has passed out of my life now. And I am ok with that.

something i didn't mention

Before the bloody fun, a coworker came into my office. We were all discussing this and that when she brought up how unhappy her bird is since she moved. Apparently, she is having a problem with her screaming any time she is out of the room.

This is a critter that has been in her care for 5 years. Moving is just as upsetting for critters as it is for people. Especially the more "intelligent" ones. In this case, a cockatoo.

The coworker, Mary, suggested that she wants to give her away. For me, giving away a pet is a last resort, especially when the pet is simply misbehaving. With parrots, if they feel insecure ir upset, they screech. In this case, i suggestedd that Mary et a rolling perch and bring Daphne with ehr as she traveles through the house, something I would like to be able to do with Baby. This way, Daphne never feels the insecurity of being away from her "flock" and doesn't need to call to them in order to feel safe.

Mary spoke to a friend of her's who is head of some sort of bird club or something around town. The friend suggested that she sell the bird with cage and said that she would ask her club.

I have to disagree. If after 5 years of happy cohabitation, she suddenly is screaming, then I think that steps can be taken to increase her comfort level. Rolling perches are not that expensive, I see them on Ebay all the time. Heck, Baby's current home rolls but is too big to move throughout the house. Daphne is not a bad bird, she is an uncomfortable one who needs to be reassured that she is safe. Mary is concerned about the neighbors getting angry with her, but I think, given time, Daphne can be a wonderful addition to the neighborhood. I live in an apartment. My neighbors are facinated with Baby and ask me about her all the time. They have never complained to me about her.

So I did something that was a little compulsive. Ok a lot. I offered to adopt Daphne. Mary sad she would think about it. I already know wher in my home she can live. I think as long as I make sure that Baby knows that she is still the primary bird, they will be ok. I think that in time they will like each other, as Baby tends to like other animals. It would be a lot to have another parrot in the house, but the offer is there, and I would be happy yo take her.

We could rename the Tower, the Castle of Misfit Critters

Of fainting and PETA

If you have been reading here for awhile, then you know that I try to give blood every time it is conveinent. Today was like any other blood-letting day. Generally, after this practice, I feel great! ready to run a marathom (ok, no. not really) but at least indulge in some lighthearted horseplay. I am generally on the edge of my seat ready to dash out of the bloodmobile before the required 15 minutes of donut eating and juice drinking is over.

Today was differnt. Today was darker. (oooh). After the Phlebotomist leaned on my needle for a couple of seconds then pushed it in before taking it out ("jeez! what are you doing?" screamed I, in my head) and after I soaked through a gauze pad (that's never happened before either) I took stock of my feelings and headed over to the "cantina". Things started to sound a bit muffled. As I poured my apple juice, and choose my Nutter Butters (come on, you know you love them. Maybe you just like to say Nutter Butter. It's fun, its silly, it's peanutbuttery) I started to feel a little woozy. I mentioned to the guy who was sitting there that I didn't feel right. I sat down. I took a bite of my cookie which tasted, well, tasteless. I remember Jef n Jer rambling on and laughing on the radio. (I'm a Dave Shelly and Chainsaw girl, but whatever. And if you don't live in the greater San Diego area, you have no idea what I am talking about and I am sorry. But DSC. Funny shit) I remember slowly laying back against the seat and window. And then I started dreaming.

I'm not sure how long I was out, but once I figured out that I was dreaming, and that I wasn't in a place where I should be dreaming like my couch, floor, or (oh heaven on earth) my bed, I woke up. And also realized that I had passed out with my mouth open. totally embarassing. I mean, if i'm going to faint, can't I look all pretty like in the movies? All delicate and venerable? I wouldn't be surprised if I snored. As I woke up, I heard the guy say he thought there was something wrong with me, and the nurses rushed me back to a bed where they made me drink Gatorade and told me I was dehydrated. They put ice behind my neck and I broke out into a cold sweat.

I almost passed out again in the lunch room, and I felt funny the rest of the day. I slept for 2 hours when I got home. Not that it's abnormal for me to take a good long nap, but this time, I felt like if i didn't take a nap, I was in big trouble. I still feel a little off. Seester, no one at work understood when I announced that I was feeling wooz-ee in a bad French accent. sigh.

Speaking of my Seester (who has resumed her blogging so you should go visit her. He blog is lonely and needs some love.) has suggested that I add my company to the PETA Cruelty Free list. I'm all about not animal testing. The bird? Dosn't need a bath. Neither do the fish. I don't think that bunnies need to wear eyeliner. I don't have a bunny, but when I did, he didn't wear mascara. I am in support of being on thier list because it is good advertisement for me and there are no intentional animal products in my soap.

But it is homeade. and I have pets. I have yet to discover any animals in my soap, and if you remember, I threw out the whole batch when the dog peed on my soap.(I still like saying that because it's funny. I could just be suffering from loss of blood)

Here's my thing with PETA. There is no middle ground. I am a middle ground kind of girl. Do I think it's ok to be cruel to animals? No. Do I wear fur? Nope. But I do wear leather. And I eat cows. So do I work with wool. My home is swimming in wool. While I would like to say that all of my wool comes from small farms where they love thier sheepies like members of the family, I can't. Some of it is. I will work harder to buy more that is. But the truth is, unless they are deliberately mistreating thiere animals, I don't have a problem with the wool industry. PETA would have us all in plant fibers.

They do really neat things in a lot of ways. And I undestand that thier stance is ALL animal byproducts are bad. But a vegetarian lifestyle is not for everyone. And I think that in some cases, they eggagerate a bit. And I don't know if I am animal free enough to be represented by them. I am thinking about it. I have not yet downloaded their cruelty free promise. It would be fun to put that cute little bunny on my packaging. I would be proud to do so.

But what about when I start offering my yarns for sale? Or felted soap? (felted soap has wool wrapped around it so it's scrubby.)

I looked closer at their requirements while I was writing this, and I find that they don't seem that bad. They aren't asking me to be vegan, unless I want to be, all they want is to know whether I test on non human animals. Since the answer is no, I think I will take my Seester's advice (when has she ever given me bad advice, really?) But I might have to take care of that tomorrow, I need to go eat something. and all this water is making me uh, well, you know.

I must somehow invite this behavoir

Or perhaps it is the people I spend time with. I would really like to know how to make it stop.

The following entry discusses my chest. You may want to skip this if you don't want to hear about it.

Here's the thing. I have, as many of you have seen, rather large breasts. I knew they were sizable, but I never relly realized just how large they appear until I saw a picture of myself in a certain dress from a couple of years ago. No, I will not post that picture. It's a great dress. But I think it emphasizes my "assets" a little too well. That's not the point.

Ever since they started growing between 7th and 8th grade, my breats have been a subject of conversation. Among my family, it is a normal dinner time topic. My little sister gets discussed too. I guess this has put it into my mind that the discussion of my body is a normal, casual thing.

Among my friends, as we have grown older, and the guys more comfortable with me, they have become a topic as well. This, I admit, I encouraged for awhile with frequent flashings (never bare) while accompanied by my dear friend Stena. It was a great fun joke. I look back on this time as a period of my life when I needed the attention. Needed the validation that I was attractive or at least had an attractive feature. That doesn't make it classy. WhenI realized that it was not a ladylike thing to do, I quietly stopped. It's been a couple of years since I have behaved this way. There are still a few of my single male friends who have no problem expressing thier enjoyment of my hugs.

I am not a frequent hugger. I rarely go in for the hug except with people I know well or, people who approach me this way first. Family members, close friends, I don't have a problem hugging, but I don't really consider it a form of greeting when a simple "see ya later" will suffice. I will not refuse though.

A couple of months ago, I think I posted about a run-in I had with my sister's brother-in law, when he hugged me and, while he was at it, basically fondled me with his chest, pressing into me and moving about, pulling me closer when I tried to pull away. I scolded him for it. I told him it was inappropriate, as I am practically his sister. That he needs to view me that way. It was an awkward moment.

Last time Wayne and I went to dinner, we hugged goodbye. He commented on the feel of my chest pressed against his and frankly, it made me feel icky. But, I told myself, Wayne is one of those people who says what he is thinking. It's just the way he is. But today, after breakfast when we were saying our goodbyes at Harbucks where we met, he asked for a hug. So that he could feel my breasts. In a crowded restaurant. I didn't want to do it.

And I wondered, what did I do, how did I behave to make him think that this is ok with me? Is it a byproduct of knowing me? I do not have implants, I am how I was made. And I have been becoming increasingly uncomfortable with how I was made. My neckline, always low cut, has crept up slowly over the last couple of years. (probably not a bad thing, actually) I have been wearing a lot of sweatshirts. On my way home today, I was pondering minimizing bras. Granny bras. solutions that would make me feel like a person hugging me wanted to hug me, not my chest. Perhaps this is the byproduct of the pride I have always had in regards to them.

All I can think is that there must be something I did to encourage it. After all, this is the same woman who posted a closeup on the internet. I must have brought this upon myself, but how do I go about making it stop?

pff. Heh. I should be in bed.

There's something wrong with this picture.

I think ebay might be getting out of hand...

Moving right along...

By Monday afternoon, KCoworker (the man in question) had sent me the following email:

I just wanted to thank you again for going with me
> to the Padre game and with out sounding too
> redundant I do enjoy your company very much. It has
> been awhile since I have dated so please forgive my
> ineptness, or if I'm not being over bearing, or
> making you think I'm some sort of freak or
> something. The last thing I want to do is make you
> feel uncomfortable. I know that a baseball is not
> especially appealing. But I hope you had a semi good
> time. Bruce was happy to see us, and his friend
> seemed to be pretty cool. Bruce asked if I wanted to
> purchase some tickets his son has for sale and go
> down to tail gate w/him, his wife and friends. Would
> you be interested? Oh also I do not want you to
> think that because I am treating you to what ever I
> know your finances are tight and I am not trying to
> buy you (so to speak) by taking you out and paying
> for what ever, I offer them because I like you not
> because I want something in return. Could you please
> call me some time this
> afternoon/evening or would you like to meet for a
> cup of tea?

To which I mentally responded, "AAAAAHHHHH"

Then he brought me some M&M's.

Tuesday he basically avoided my office. Coworker thought by his attitude that I had talked to him but although I did call, he didn't call back. He stopped by to return some money he had borrowed since the trolley machines doesn't take $20's. Later, he sent an email asking what he did to have me ignore him. I responded that I would call later.

Last night I called and said that I was afraid I have misrepresented myself. That I saw our outings as two friends out and about. He said that he saw it that way too. I pointed out that he had been very attentive and that he had mentioned dating. He didn't remember ever saying "dating".

The conversation ended on a good note, but I didn't make any plans to see him again outside of work.

And so my drama ends. Thank goodness.

thunk, thunk, thunk...

that's the sound of me banging my head on my desk. He came back over, I hid at my desk. Coworker is alternately telling me do deal with it, and to do it nicely. She's being very simpathetic and understanding.

My tummy ache came back.

Here we go again

I'm pretty darn sure that I mentioned that I went to go see "Blades of Glory" last week with a coworker. I took care of the tickets, he treated for dinner. The thought behind going (even though I have been feeling apprehensive about his attention) is that I like this person as a friend and do not want to assume he wants anything more than friendship from me (based on my friendship with Wayne which is completely platonic). I have male friends. It's what I have. I spend more time out with the guys than the girls.

Anyway, I made sure, throughout the film that I sat with my knees pointed away from him and my hands nowhere near holding range (without looking awkward) just in case. He has been emailing fairly constantly since. He asked what I was doing Thursday night (DANGER WILL ROBINSON!!) but thankfully I had a dinner date with Wayne. Friday night he invited me to the Padre game and being that it was opening night and he got the tickets for free, I agreed to go. I mean, who turns down a free baseball game? It's UN-American!

I picked him up so we could go to the trolley station. (best way to get to PetCo Park)He didn't have his shirt on when I got there and insisted on giving my a grand tour of his house. I didn't even really look in his room because honestly? I didn't want to SEE his bedroom. Generally, when a man comes to my house, I close my bedroom door. I consider that a very private area. I have bras and underwear hanging about in there!

He tried to buy my trolley tickets but I stopped him because I still had some from Jury Duty. I learned that riding backwards on the trolley makes me motion sick.

We arrived and found another coworker tailgating. That other coworker now thinks we are dating. Soon it will be all over the company because those guys love their gossip and will assume anything about two single people arriving together.

During the game he kept asking if I was hungry. I refused any food as I was still feeling queasy. He bought me a chicken sandwich anyway and I ate it to be polite. Honestly? this is one of my pet peeves. To me, no means no even if I don't believe it. Especially when food and drink is involved. Him buying me that sandwich told me that he thinks he knows better than I what I want. Yes, I realize he was just being nice.

I prayed they would not stop at us when they panned around trying to find couples for jumbo tron kissing. They didn't.

We left a bit early and caught the trolley to go home. He sat across from me and told me I have a nice voice and he likes to spend time with me. a lot. I didn't get motion sick but I still had a tummy ache.

I pulled up to his home and cheerfully said, "Ok! Get out!" as I would to any other friend. As I drove away, I announced to my belly that I wasn't interested in dating this fellow and it quit aching.

He called yesterday to wish me a happy Easter. I didn't return his call. He emailed me first thing this morning while I was off to the loo, and was in my office when I returned. I said hello but tried not to be too friendly. I made a point to go back to my desk and resume Internet activities. It didn't take him long to finish talking to coworker and pull a chair up to my cave.

He's a nice man so I have to figure out a way to tell him I am not interested without embarrassing him terribly and making it weird to work together.

At least I have figured out how I get myself into these situations.

World War 3

It's been WW3 around the office these last couple of days. It never ceases to amaze me how a seemingly small issue can explode into all out war. Thankfully, I was not involved and I was able to spend plenty of time under my desk in my makeshift fallout shelter with my hard hat on.

I wish Coworker and Admin would talk to Bossman before they decide to play musical furniture. The furniture they brought in didn't fit. Bossman got in trouble because big boss was lead to believe that he knew about it and was angry that bossman would allow in furniture that didn't fit.

It ended up that coworker lost her big new cherrywood set up and is now in a crappy desk. She's bitter over it, but I think it's her fault for giving away her desk in the first place. Like a kid that trades away a nice bike for a better one but ends up with something crappy.

When Bossman told them to get the oversize desk out, they ran to big boss. Can't say I support that decision. He's an Executive Director. I think they are out of hand. Admin even tried to rearrange our entire office so that the desk would fit. Both Admin and coworker lost two days of work to rearrange. not to mention the guys who had to move the furniture around and put things together for them.

It's funny because no matter how much freedom Bossman gives me, it would never occur to me to switch out my desk or anything else when he wasn't looking. Coworker has tried to give away our bookcases too. She says we don't use them but last I looked, not only are they my cubical walls but they are full of binders. "So and So needs them" says she. Boss man had no idea until I mentioned it today.

The two of them finally started talking while I was at lunch. I hate that you can usually cut the tension in my office with a knife. I want to like her, I do, as someone to chat with. She can be a lot of fun when she's happy.

When she's happy.

thank goodness for busy days like the last couple of days have been.

And now, I address the Meme:

7 songs I dig. I will turn these up and sing, loud, over and over again until I can't sing anymore. I can't be bothered with embedding them in here although I am impressed with the people who did. And Tags? the bloggers I know who I think would do this already did, so no tags, but if course if you really want to, let me know, I'll go check it out.

"Downtime" Jo Dee Messina
All about the healing that happens after a breakup. How she knows she's going to be fine and over it. That time will heal the hurt. Currently in my CD player

"Have a Little Faith in Me" Jewel
I have only seen this on the soundtrack to Phenomenon. It. Rocks. full of raw emotions and soul.

"Flashdance...What a Feeling" Irene Cara
I'm big on the whole making dreams come true thing. If I were to pick a theme song, this would be it. I play it when I'm feeling spunky

"Don't Fence Me In" Bing Crosby and the Andrews Sisters
I'm a sucker for the standards. And I love this. I don't like to be fenced in. I like to feel like I am free to run and fly if I want to. I love the open sky. When I was in Yellowstone, this song played in my head a lot. I know that Bing wasn't the greatest of roll models, but his voice was like pure silky chocolate.

"Memory" Andrew Lloyd Webber from the musical "Cats"
Anyone who knows me knows that there HAD to be a musical in here somewhere. Truly I love many, but this one touches me deep. Speaking of which...

"Summertime" I don't know who wrote it, but it's from "Porgy and Bess"
I just love it. Always. I have two versions, one sung by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong (how can you go wrong?) and one by Janis Joplin. They both get me.

"Mercedes Benz" Janis Joplin
I didn't know who was singing the first time I heard this song in the government van in Mendocino,CA (how appropriate?) but when it was on the CD I bought to get to kow Janis's music after I read her biography, I was more than pleased. I think, after all these years, that this song speaks of people and thier relationship with God. How we think that material items will make us complete. How we try to keep up woth what other people have instead of focusing on what is best for us.

I think it's past time

to take back over my area. What's the push? We have a doorbell so that I can hear people at the door at my desk behind bookcases. I can't hear people knocking when the plotter is going and often, not at all because the knock so quietly. Yes, the bell is obnoxious. The otehr day, it ran out of batteries.
It occurred to me this morning that the batteries might be here. (coworker orders that stuff)She doesn't want the bell to work.
why am I angry again? because she consistantly rearranges things around here to suit herself when they have been put in place for the better of the department.

Self Evident

A man said to me yesterday the following, "You are honest, so you expect other people to be honest as well. 97% of the time they will be"

I realized that this is the truth. I expect honesty from people because that is what I give. I'm not going to pretend that I am always honest. But I try to be honest with people and with myself. Lying generally hurts my soul. Not the kind like when I tell my mom that the popcorn on TV really does expand to look like a house in the microwave (then giggle when she believes me because she really is that gullible), but the kind where I tell the neighbor I am a Lesbian in order to get him to go away. (Refusing his homemade juice seems to have fixed that so far). I won't lie to my customers and tell them I like a pastry that I hate or that I have tried it if I have not. There's no reason for it. In this case, lying will not save my life. And I think that my customers appriciate a candid answer.

I like knowing that my expectation of the truth inspires truth. And it's like I said the other day, It's so much easier to be truthful. Then you don't have to remember what you said.

In other news...

Coworker and I have been getting a long pretty well and her work ethic is inspiring me to work harder. (says the blogger...) Today though I was frustrated by her when she told me that A) She made so and so pick up the drawings that had been sitting forever in our office. I said I need to start sticking to our rule about only holding things for a week. Her argument was that thier drawing sets would be incomplete, I responded that they were already incomplete if they are not picking them up. It boils down to the fact that I don't think we should deliver them or constantly remind them to come and get them (for goodness sake, they are in the trailer next door) and she thinks it is our customer service responsibility to make sure they have them. Both are good arguments, really, I just don't like it when she tells me how I should do my job.** and B) that the drawings were making it hard to close the file drawers. That we need to find something else to do with them.
We have a space issue. Ongoing projects stay in flat files until they are complete. If they are big, the drawings go on sticks when the project is finished. Smaller projects are folded up and put in drawers. There is no where else to put them. She has a habit of putting binders in the drawers and then they get stuck and all that, and I keep my mouth shut about it because I know there is no where else to put them. Except on the book shelves that abound in our office which are mostly empty and that she keeps complaining that they take up too much room for items we don't use.
My answer was to fold the drawings up smaller.

I think we will always argue about these things. I know she is loking for another position. My plate will be very full if she goes. I'm ok with that.

Meanwhile, I think I have found the source of my job apathy. It's that I don't rise to the occation because other people are incomplete with thier work. Today a set of drawings came in. No drawing log. Which means that I can't check to make sure that the set is complete before I distribute it. The project managers don't ask for or force the architects to behave, and so it sits on us to try and figure it out.

At least that's one source. Sigh.


Later:
**OH I get it! I should be harassing people to get their stuff, but it is tedious for her to make sure that the two documents that we publish as tools for other departments match.

sheesh. I am no longer concerned with her opinion of how I do my job and for goodness sake, would someone please let me take back the duties she took?

A reverend's work is never done

I recieved a phone call the other day from my friend the florist wondering if I woul be interested in a little wedding work on the cheap. Apparently it is a low budget shotgun type marriage. (I'm not in it for the money, so I don't mind adjusting what I would charge. Not that I have charged yet, but I know how much I should be charging so...Heck, I'd be willing to trade for something.)

I called her back and told I was interested, but that I had to check my Harbucks schedule first. She told me that The Bride is deaf, but that her grandmother would interpret, and that the Groom's family only speaks Spanish, but that they would have an interpreter for that too.

I was scheduled to work during the ceremony, but was able to switch shifts with another Barista so that I would be done in time. I called my friend. as I was pulling over to write down the number, she put me on hold. It was the Grandmother. It turns out that they will be needing a Spanish speaking Minister after all. BUT it's possible that they still might use me if they can't find anyone else.

I knew Ordination would open up some interesting possibilities.

Introducing...

The Drunkin Monkey.

Drunkin Monkey is a denisen of my tower home. He is also a world traveller. My Seester said that I need to share his adventures with the world and that he needs a blog of his own. Please go visit him. While you're at it, visit her too. She's updating again.

Meanwhile, as he is a travelling monkey, should you want to show him a good time, please let me know. He will be returning from Ohio in May. After a brief rest, he will gladly come to visit.

I do accept other travelling critters for visits to my tower home. I promise that they will learn to spin and make soap in addition to seeing all the sights I can fit into my busy schedule.

Eye am suffering.

Perhaps after work I will sit down and give the lowdown on the neighbor situation that I believe I have touched on but not fully explored with you.

Right now, I have a problem. You see, my contact lens was bothering me. so I took it out and looked at it.

There was a tear. I tried to live through it but couldn't. I had to toss it. And I think all the messing with my eye might have scratched it because it's still irritated.

Now I have one good eye and one not so good eye. I also have one green eye and one greener eye. Maybe I can convince the bossman to let me go home early over it. After the Chili Cook off. Maybe I can make an eye patch out of rubber bands and post it notes.

Damn I wish I had my camera today.

Ancient Shame

Once upon a time, in a town several miles up the road, I had no friends. New to the school and not nearly cool enough to be immedietly popular, I spent my first year with one friend. Maybe 2. A couple of aquaintences and no sense of belonging. All the wrong clothes. The wrong side of town, although my parents didn't know that when we moved there. That was seventh grade. By the end of eighth grade, I had a few more friends and a tentative social life. But I still didn't feel accepted. Without my friends close by, I felt lost and alone, fearful that one of the more popular kids would start to make fun of me. They did that sometimes.

One day I was standing in line and I heard the boy in front of me say, "Watch this". He turned, and held out his hand as if to shake mine. I stared at it like it would bite. I did not take his hand. He turned around and said, "See? I told you"

The boy in question had birthmarks on his hand. When I heard what he said, I knew that he was proving to his friend that people were afraid to touch him. My own insecurities underlined his belief. I wanted to apologize, I wanted to take his hand, but I didn't know how. I didn't know how to fix it. I still don't. I was fearful of this boy not because of his markings, but because of his social status. It never occurred to me that he might have been a very nice person.

It occurred to me the other day that I could look him up on MySpace. tonight I did. As I glanced over his profile, I realized that he probably doesn't remember the incident. He probably doesn't need my apology. I don't really think he would know who I am.I realized that it isn't he that needs to forgive me, I need to forgive myself. Not for the lack of a handshake, but for the predjudice I held against an innocent individual. He was never mean to me, I only assumed he would be because his friends were.

And I need to understand that I can't try to right all past wrongs, but I can try not to make the same mistakes again. I think that's even harder than apologizing.

Crank-ee-pants

(Note-This post was started on Friday at work. then I got back to it on Sunday)

I think it has something to do with the fact that I had to get up an hour early this morning to be at work early so that I could drive a golf cart to the detail shop by 6 am. Why did I have to do it? because the managaer in charge of that cart didn't want to ask her staff to come in early to do it, she says we use it more than she does (hadn't driven it since OCT), and since bossman comes in early, he should do it. Bossman can't drive the cart, his belly doesn't fit. Coworker can't com in early, she has kids.

Meanwhile, I don't understand how it is that I have a record of a drawing and no drawing.

Last night I went for French food. Wayne got up to have a smoke, I went to go to the bathroom, and when I returned, they were clearing our table. I think they thought we skipped out on the bill. No, I didn't have escargot, I had Alaskan Salmon. Yes, I know Alaskan Salmon is not French. Regardless, the food was very tasty and the atmosphere was great (it was nice, but I was ok in jeans) and I highly recommend Thee Bungalow if every you are in the area. And you want to drop more than I like to spend on a meal. I'd say, it's a good place to impress a date.

(it's Sunday now)

MEANWHILE, I worked all weekend, got to stare gratuitously at Officer Yummy, my neighbor brought me an Aloe Vera (and stayed for a chat) then came back the next night to tell me I have the eyes of an Angel and give me his number, and then back tonight to see if I could take a look at his sewing machine (he is either completely clueless about sewing machines or blowing smoke up my ass about it being broken) and go to dinner with him and his daughter. Strangely, his daughter wasn't available for dinner after all.

I'm flattered by the attention, and I am trying to tell myself that like Wayne, he is only interested in my platonic company, but I can't help but wonder. I'm not interested, mind you, he's gotta be nearing 50 and after he left the night he brought the Aloe, my whole house smelled like booze. Plus, the bird doesn't like him.

Generally, I just want to be holed up in my tower alone. Unless of course Officer Yummy wants to pop by... (honestly, he's a nice guy but I don't harbor any thoughts that I do anything more for him than sling coffee. We did have a short conversation last night about being drunk at amusement parks. Not, er, that he would sneak a flask into Universal Studios or anything)

I had to know if it is true (and HNT)

Bossman is always telling me that he can tell when I'm smiling (usually because (he thinks) I got some) because he can see my cheeks pop up at the sides of my head.

Today, I was walking to my car when a man drives up beside me and tells me that I have the prettiest smile in town. After I thanked him, I asked if he can see me smiling from behind. I wouldn't have asked but he drove up from behind and I had never seen him before in my life. He just laughed.

So of course I had to take a picture of me smiling from behind. I would like to make the following observations regarding a part of my body I don't see very often.

"Hey! my hair looks pretty cool! I didn't know it was a figure eight today!"(I don't check the back of my head, I just fix and go)
"Damn I have a scrawny neck"
"HEY! you CAN'T see me smiling from behind! Bossman's full of shit!" but I already knew that. So happy HNT, from the back of my head.

Shoe fly don't bother me...

We all know that I am not a shoe whore despite the fact that my shoe carpet seems to be growing and then there was that incedent a couple of months ago where I bought three pairs in one day and can't wear any of them to work.

But this is about work shoes.

I wear nice shoes to my regular job. or at least they look nice and pretend they are not from payless. It takes me about 6 months to wear through them. By wear through I mean that the little nail in the heel makes me slip and slide on the sidewalk and the tile floor at Wal Mart if I have to stop there before I go home. My right shoe is currently nothing but nail.(what? I needed blue koolaid. apparently they don't sell it at any of the three wal marts in my area. I did get a turkey baster though)

Here are my work shoe requirements.

Black, closed toe, closed heel 1.5 inches or less. They should look like an almost 30 year old should be wearing them, not Nurse Rachet.

There isn't a store in Santee that carries that shoe. (no shoe stores in Lakeside)Nope, apparently it's a 3 inch heel or nothing. Never mind that anything higher than 1.5 hurts my back and is likely to send my poor sciatic nerves into shock (last time they went crazy I couldn't sit, stand, or lay down without pain.) Never mind that open toes and heels are against my company dress code.

Can't anyone carry a simple shoe? No, I will not wear flats. I am short, first of all and they make me feet look big. And I don't think they look nice with my suits. Plus that little heel gives my leg just a little bit of definition and well, it's all about making my legs look good right?

Is it really too much to ask for stores to carry a plain shoe, short heel, round toe? REALLY.

In other news, I am some sort of genius at my job. You know, when there is work to do and after thinking about it all day and trying to do things the hard way. Yup, under those circumstances, I am a genius.

the longest 15 minutes ever

really this should be the longest day ever. because I got nothin. and I have been to perezhilton.com 15 zillion times and I have been to everyone's blogs two, sometimes three times. I cleaned my desk, I went potty, got a drink, some soup, looked at yarn and craftster and I still got nothin. so I am posting again. and looking around just in case there's some work to do that I missed.

It's frustrating because I know coworker is busy. I have asked for a duty redistrubution and nothing happens. so I sit here on days like today and try and think of something to do. It occurred to me at 10 am that I would be far more productive at home. sleeping.

I almost got into a car accident this morning. I have to drive up a windy mountain road to get to work. There is construction on the road and even though I get here before construction starts, sometimes I still have to stop. This morning I had to stop abrubtly. So did the guy behind me. then I heard the noise. Thought I felt a tap.
When traffic started moving again I slowly headed to a place where it was safe to pull over. Three of us did. I popped out of my car and asked the buy behind me (with a smile. I wasn't mad. if he hit me, I didn't think there would be any damage) if he hit me. He hadn't.
Then he said I stopped suddenly and asked if the car ahead of me had too (I drive a small SUV, so I imagine he couldn't see in front of me) "yes." I replied, confused that he would ask. who goes from 50 to nothin for the fun of it on a two lane road?

His car didn't look so good but since there was nothing more I could do there, and I was alredy late, I wandered off. I told bossman what happened. he was just as confused as I was. I wanted him to know just in case I got reported for reckless driving. I can be fired for that. even off the clock.

I think the clock is taunting me.

Speaking of old flames

even ones that didn't burn very brightly (more like a light flicker, actually. more smoke than fire...)

I missed a 2am call from Biker Bob the other night. he didn't leave a message, I didn't call him back to see what was up. I figure it was either an accident, or he was drunk. Either way, I still don't really have anything to say to him and I had forgotten his number was even in my phone. I think I will remedy that. Finally going to take T out too. We're still friends, but email friends, not phone call friends and he probably changed the number when he moved anyway.

Holiday Greetings

Happy Steak and Knobber Day, all. wish I could join you in the celebrations. but not so much that I plan to look up any old flames or strange men.

I had a political rant

but it wasn't sounding so good. very discombobulated. so I deleted it. I will say however, that I like that the budget has strings attached. I think it's time to reign in the madness, cowboy.

Lovin the whole housekeeper thing. I asked her to dust and she even found the top of my dresser and dusted that! sweet! now I can put my other TV (the normal sized one) in my room and watch movies in there too! you know, because I spend SO much time in my room...

I also learned that treadling my spinning wheel counts for exercize since I seem to have worked my thigh muscles. yes indeed, I pulled a hammy over it. (I'm ashamed to say that I have forgotten enough of my anatomy that I had to research a text book to remember the muscle group.) Between that and the squats I have been doing for work (coallating drawings can be strenuous) I should be looking great from the waist down really soon. er...not that I'm not natrually in fabulous shape without even trying. (psst. pass the cookies, would ya?)

I don't feel like doing my laundry. I wonder if I can make it another day?

that was a very exciting post. I think i'll wander over to MySpace and then log off. Good day to you all.

They can't possibly be normal

Otherwise, they wouldn't be called Man's Best Friend. and people wouldn't want them. And if they are just like Children, then P'Chef wouldn't have one and be hankerin for the other. Why do I say this? Following is a letter I wrote to my little sister in PA today:

I know you have been waiting patiently for soap. Here's what is going on.

I made some, and it cured. Then I procrastinated a bit in getting it wrapped. So this week, I figured I would get it done while I dog sat the greyhounds. I took three batches of soap with me. Got two wrapped and I was all excited to get the final batch, the Butt Soap done and one sent to you.

The dogs peed on my soap.

I checked every bar and they didn't look like they had actually gotten hit, but the container they were in, and the one under it had pee on them. Since the container I keep them in is like a mini crate, and it has holes in it, I couldn't, and feel good about it, wrap them up anyway for sale. So I had to throw the whole batch away.

The whole batch. I've never lost a whole batch before.

I'm a bit sick over it. I'm angry but I don't really have anyone to be angry at. Can't be mad at the dogs, they're dogs and the probably forgot they did it. I can be mad at myself, but they have never peed on my stuff before so I thought it would be OK to leave my stuff unattended. (thank goodness I didn't bring my laundry over like usual) I started to wrap them up anyway, but I just couldn't do it. It felt wrong to me. And since it's soap, I couldn't really rinse it off! So, I will start another batch and make sure you get some. I think, actually, that there is a random bar floating around.

I'm trying to see the silver lining. Eternal optimist that I am, I am certain that something good will come of it. It seems like whenever something goes upside down for me, that the universe sends something that makes me feel better.


Tonight is my final night of dog sitting. I don't know if I will tell my friends about the ruined soap. I don't think they should pay for it even though it's over $100 in retail sales that I just lost. I know there is a lesson in here somewhere. Perhaps it is that I need to focus on me, and that by trying to be nice all the time and not saying no, I am hurting myself. This business is my dream. And I put my lifestyle on hold to help them out. I'm no longer a young chicken with two lonely cats at home and nothing better to do (I used to like dog sitting because other people's houses were better than mine). By continuing now that my life has changed, I am hindering my lifestyle. I would have liked to have been spinning this week, or working on advertising since I haven't sold a bar all year. The money paid will help me out in many ways, but I paid out twice that in rent for an apartment I wasn't at all week. The bird is lonely, and technically, it cost me money to be there. Not to mention lost sleep. I haven't had a full nights sleep in almost 7 days. Stress knowing I needed to be there? Gas to get there? (I had to fill up several days ahead of schedule) That's all aside from the picking up the dog poo and lost soap sales.

I like dogs, I do. and I'm sure in a couple of days I will go back to considering the idea of having one of my own one day. But I will keep in mind too that I would like to travel and dogs don't travel well. not overseas. (I would like to think that my dog would behave better than to pee all over everything. Cuz they went on the bedspread too) I like children too. and I would like to think that my kids (should I have any) wouldn't poo on the floor or pee on my soap. (still kills me. and I can't think of a way to salvage it) But right now, those pups are damn inconvenient. I suppose I wouldn't think so if they were mine.

Sigh. I guess I will have to make that determination when the time. I'm a pushover for a friend, so chances are, I will be dog sitting again. But I definitely learned my lesson about the soap. At least the didn't pee in my shoes.

I fear I've sprung a leak (or) I'm drying up like a raisin

I don't know if it's a matter of all the liquid in my body leaking out my nose (for goodness sake, stop RUNNING already) or if it is the exceptionally dry weather, but I am parched. can't get enough water parched. which means, I'm in the bathroom all day too. My nose is all red and I'm going throughh tissues like they are going out of style. I'm sure I would be healed by now if only...

I could get some sleep. Every time the dogs move, I wake up. And then there are the other surprises. Yesterday as I settled down in front of the TV, I noticed some little land mines. picked em um. Then, after my shower, next to the bed. Land mines. And last night? they didn't wake me to go outside. so you know there will be...landmines.

This morning when I arrived at work, I approached a coworker who has, of all things, a Bull Mastiff. I asked him how he handles the dogs.

R: "Dogs, you mean like peeps or like dogs?" (he's a white guy from the hood. I forgive him for that. National City is a rough place. I don't go there very often and never alone at night)

G: "Canines" (giggle)

R: "Oh, that's easy, I have kids. They're a lot alike"

G: "Yeah, but kids don't poop on the floor!"

R: "Uh...I wish I could say that's true but..."

apparently he also spends a fortune in shoes. Not for the dog (which was my first question) but in replacements.

Suddenly I am happy to not only be dogless but childless as well. pooping on the floor indeed.

that oughta get some interesting google hits.

2 more nights. I can't wait to be home. I go there to pick up clothes and to feed the critters. Yesterday I lay down on my couch just to enjoy it for a moment, and fell asleep. I didn't want to leave. It makes me sad to remember all the years I lived in homes where I didn't want to be there. How I would go wander the mall or just be gone to be gone. Perhaps it was restess youth. Perhaps it was the mess I lived in. I know that in some cases, it was the unhappiness I felt with my live in. It's nice to finally live in a home. I look forward to planting my garden this year. My spinning wheel is going at constant speed and I am working on the soap. With so much to do, who wants to be picking up doggy poo?

Today

Is my mom's birthday and my half birthday. happy day to us!

I went to lunch yesterday with the coworker I mentioned a couple of posts ago. I was right. She hasn't changed, she just got busy. Too busy to socialize, too busy to do much more than rush around. Some people, apparently, took it to heart. I think, actually, that her feelings were a bit hurt by the fact that her friends have decided she is a snob. (you can just tell when your friedns abandon you, trust me) It was fun chatting about her animals over lunch. And she invited me out for drinks sometime. Even if she never follows through, it was nice to be invited. AND she bought me gelato. yum!

So I am going to try and make it a point to invite her for lunch periodically. We could both use a friend.

It's not fair to be mad at them

Whenever I dogsit, the first day I'm all mushy gushy and thinking that maybe one day when I don't live in an upstairs tower I will get myself a dog. Then I think about all the different dogs that I like and try to decide which one I will get. I'm partial to the three legged greyhound I see every so often, but greyhounds are really big. Then I think, well, I like weiner dogs. but i also like corgis. something about those short, stubby legs.

So for a couple days into my dogsitting gig, I generally contimplate puppy possibilities. Then reality hits.

Damn dogs kept me up all night long. They wanted to play. They licked themselves for an hour or two. They wanted petting. they wanted out. they wanted a drink of water. I wanted sleep. I almost slept on the couch just so I could get some rest. I wanted to kill them. I had forgotten that I have homicidal tendencies when I am annoyed. I wanted to give a good swift kick in the whatever I hit.

But, I didn't. I laid there, told them to go to sleep. swore I wasn't taking them out anymore. tried to talk sense into them. nudged them when they started licking again. And reminded myself that they are like children. and that they do what they do because it is how they are made. yelling, screaming, hitting, doesn't do any good, they don't understand. So I just whined at them. and eventually fell asleep, exhausted.

And today? I don't want a dog. But if I get a dog one day? I am installing a doggy door so I don't have to get up every time they have to pee in the middle of the night, AND that damn dog is NOT sleeping with me.

In which I make myself cry

Vendor comes in to look through our drawings. After flipping a couple of pages he announces,

"Looks like I'm gonna get lucky on the first try!"

to which I reply (with a completely strait face),

"We should all be so fortunate."

then I turned around and tried to go back to work, but ended up instead rushing over to my desk where I TRIED not to laugh too loud but ended up sounding like I was crying instead. Actually, the poor vendor thought I was sobbing until I gave a good cackle and bossman had to tell him I'd completely lost it.

From Dink

Dink, who used to be Bonanza Jellybean but changed over, posted this today. Or maybe yesterday, I'm not sure. But that's not the point.

The point is that she listed 7 Silly Mundane things she could not do without. And invited us all to do the same. So go read hers:

www.dinkinmess.com

and here are mine. And no, I don't REALLY know how to make that a link, I mean, I can figure it out, I have done it before, but I have things I am supposed to be doing right now.

1. My family. and no, this is not a cop out. I really don't know what I would do without them. I include my friends in this too. I am blessed with some of the most amazing friends. Which was GOING to be my post for today being as that my new friend Beau (www.beauhufford.com)totally hooked me up computerwise last night complete with instruction, and I only have C to thank, once again, as usual, for being so very cool and supportive and like I told him last night, almost as excited about my business as I am which totally keeps me motivated (both of them) and ON FIRE about improving and being the best lil soapmaker ever. (they are roomates. not THAT kind.)

2. My tweezers. I'm a tweezing fiend. I seriously kind of dread having children just because I know I would be as obsessive about the condition of their eyebrows as I am about mine. And no one should tweeze a baby's brows. really.

3. My Couch quilt. there are few things in this world that will make me feel as if I'm truly relaxing than scrunching up on my couch with my quilt and reading or knitting. and eating cookies. I will giggle with glee all day after an evening of this indulgence.

4. Baby. I never knew a critter could light my life the way that parrot does.

5. Crafty Supplies. I must be busy at all times. I knit, spin, and sometimes embroider everywhere I go. It keeps me awake, it keeps me focused. It keeps me sane.

6. Books. 'nuff said.

7. Foot covers. Somewhere along the way I turned anti-barefoot. (I think it was when I lived in the sticks. we either had dirt roads or wilderness all around the house. ever step on a live oak leaf? they stick in your feet. ever been bitten by a piss ant? ever stopped dead in your tracks because there was a 5ft rattler in your way?)I am barefooot for about 1/2 hour during my waking day (unless I am on the beach. I don't sleep in socks) otherwise there is generally something on my feet. I like socks because they give me the coverage but I keep the flexibility. not slipper socks though because they have that sticky stuff on the bottom. I just can't bear to have dirty feet. I'm a nut. you have no idea how much of one. whatever. footies rock. without something on my feet I either walk on my toes or flex my feet so I am only walking on the tips of my toes and my heels.

Play along!

In other Poon related news...

Maybe it's just me. Perhaps there is something about me that reminds people of vaginas, (I certainly hope not) but today at OSHA training another coworker experienced a slip of the tounge and said something about Poon Dog (dog?). I just don't get it, but hey, it kept me giggling all day.

I almost lost it completly when our instructor announced several times over that he is a Muff Man.

Ear Muffs for hearing protection you sicko. In this case, I prefer muffs too. I don't like to stick it in my ear, even if I reach around with my free hand. (Who knew OSHA could sound so dirty?)

What else? I'll be dogsitting the italian greyhounds starting on Saturday which could turn into a real adventure as my grandfather was hospitalized yesterday with pnumonia. He's out today. It's scary. I need to be ready to travel though, at a moments notice. which means I would have to find a way to take the doggies with me. To AZ. EEK!

OH! After much consideration I have realized that I have another superpower. It's an accidental one, and not really too beneficial for me so far, but I have come to the realization that although inconvenient, it can be considered a superpower.

The sight of me nakid makes men fall asleep.

I think this developed during my year long dry spell before Biker Bob arrived in my life. Poor guy. He never stood a chance against the unleashing of my force. It's the only way I can explain the fact that he rolled over and snored every time I came dancing out of the shower all warm, fresh, clean and ready to um...snuggle?

yeah. snuggle.

Which only goes to underline that I will have to move slowly with the next fellow I date because he will have to build up a resistance to my er...charms.

CHARMS!

And anyway, it's better to move slowly. It's like my neighbor said the other day. (He asked if Biker Bob was out of the picture and I told him yes, way out. Where has HE been? Biker Bob hasn't been to my home since what? Late September? October?) "Haste makes Waste". Actually I'm not really sure why he said that. I'm no longer accustomed to my neighbors commenting on my activities. He means well. It's not like I have guys staying the night or anything.

So since I am in the midst of another dry spell, I will have to be extra careful with my goodies. If a year puts them to sleep, two years might kill them! Or at least put him into a coma, which is also no fun for me. And how do you explain that to family? Doctors?

"I don't know, I got undressed and BAM he was out. It's one of my superpowers. I didn't do it on purpose, it just happened."

Sheesh.

So for a recap on my Super Hero Status,

Powers:
Kung Fu Hair
Vice Grip thighs
Nude Figure renders men unconcious

Can be defeated with:
Bananas
Large amounts of noodles
Fits of the giggles.
cockroaches

My apologies, Spell Check isn't working.

I'm getting back into a really bad habit

Of needing to blog at work. I always want to wait until I get home, but by the time I get there, my brain has turned whatever was pissing me off into hearts and flowers and somehow, I think I was just being silly. And so, a letter for you to read.

Dear Coworker,
I realize that you have managed to make it so that you run everything in the office leaving me little to do. Believe me, I have mentioned it to bossman and he either inores me when I say, "I am feeling insecure obout my job" or he tells me that if you want to do all the work to let you.

This is not about that. It's about the fact that you called me over today to tell me that Accounting does not accept bossman's signature as verification that an invoice can be paid. You talked over me when I told you that I know this and that is why I give invoices to big boss after bossman has signed them. I have bossman sign them to show big boss that he has seen and approved the invoice. Out of courtesy for bossman even though it isn't really nessesary. If big boss didn't sign the invoice (and I saw the returned invoice. It had an "approved" stamp on it. I don't know who used the stamp, but accounting crossed it out. Remind me how I did something wrong? then again, don't. because I didn't)

I realize that you don't think I can do anything right. And often, due to my extreme insecurity in a department and position that I helped build from the ground up, I often fuck up. Mostly because you are constantly undermining what I do by showing me how you would do it better/faster/more accurately. Completely running over the fact that I do things in a way that best serves the way my rather messed up brain works. It is a very distracted brain. Change screws with my needed processes. I rarely messed up before you came along. But remember. I have been in this position for nearly 4 years. I have been dealing with the accounting department in this company off and on for nearly 10 years. I know how it works. I don't need you to tell me. I don't need you to lecture me. I don't need you to qiestion a process I go through nearly every day. It's not complicated.

Meanwhile, when I mention to you that frustration I had on Friday, I am looking for you to nod and agree. Yes, I know that is how that director does it. yes, I know the vendors give us napkin drawings. I am aware that I am not likely to change it. I know you think it is quicker to draw it by hand then to translate it to CAD. I have done both. a good CAD operator is faster. The point is that we have set up a process, and I am determined that in the very least the part of the job here that is still almost exclusively mine (until you get the equipment, when I imagine that you will manage to do all that too, and I will be stuck back here wondering how it is I am getting paid to surf the internet and praying that that fact doesn't occur to the bosses) is done to the best of my ability. I will continue to push to have at least ink drawings. What I don't need is for you to make me feel like an inept idiot. again.

It is days like this when I understand your son. After all, why try if you know you are going to be critisized anyway? Why try to do things right when no matter how hard you do try, it will never be right? never be enough?

Sincerely,
me


Meanwhile, it occurred to me that she might make me feel like an idiot because I am one. and that was not a happy thought. I had also been wondering when it was that I lost interest in my job and started playing more than I think I should. When it was that I became pretty well unhappy with my job.

I think I know. And I think I know what would fix it. But I am not ready to leave. And she doesn't seem to be going anywhere. and so I must be patient. And let things run thier course. And try not to take it personally. And maybe those are the lessons I need to learn before the issue is resolved. Because I'm pretty sure I'm not an idiot.

a matter of perspective

It suddenly occurred to me the other day, as I was pondering a coworker who, seems to have changed completely since she got a promotion, that it is highly possible, and very likely that she herself has not changed, but rather people's attitude toward her. That maybe she is brusque, not because she has suddenly become a snob after 36 years on this green earth, but because her new job is highly stressful and in a trade/department with a high turnover rate due to dissapointment from the management.

This person has yet to be particularly rude to me, but I have heard stories of her manner being less than friendly towards others.

Perhaps she might appriciate it if I suggested lunch one of these days. With Gelato for dessert. Like old times. Maybe it would mean a lot to her to know that someone still likes her despite her success.

After all, I know what it is like to move into a new position and leave your friends behind. It sure would have meant a lot to me to have the guys from the shop come and get me for lunch.