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.

Work Rant

Many of you may not know what I do because I don't often talk about work and well, it's kind of hard to explain.

In short, I am kind of like a librarian. Except I don't have books, I have blueprints and project documents. Manuals and records. I am a paper pusher.

One of the jobs I am tasked with is distribution of documents. I also get to dictate what constitutes an acceptable document. Prior to my position being created, it was not unheard of for an acceptable drawing to come in on a napkin. We have come a long way in 4 years.

Enter nightmare. director who is an old school engineer. who contracts to other old school engineers. the contractors constantly send me drawings with misspellings (yeah, coming from me, that says a lot) typos, lacking title blocks, project names, numbers, and once, with the Os in "look" filled in like eyeballs. I tell myself that at least they are electronic in CAD format. (even if sometimes they are drawn to scale in CAD format and have to be monkeyed with before they are useful to me) (this morning said OSE sent me files labelled simply VTV. I replied asking what they are. Need to know that so they can be recorded and filed.)

Then Director comes in. With some lovely drawings he did. On letter size graph paper. In pencil. Since I hold the archives, I generally reject pencil because it smears and fades. it is not at all permanent. That's why it can be ERASED.No project number. No title block. And when I requested CAD drawings, I was told to use these anyway. Never mind that he has staff who have CAD and can transfer the document. Never mind that OSE can do it too. I was told that pencil is archival.

The bossman said there is nothing I can do. It would be awfully nice to get some support. The big bossman won't do anything either. So basically, I have been tasked with putting out a good product, but I am not allowed to demand good materials. So I passed along the shit.

Arguing or refusing amounts to insubordination. So I just copied exactly what he gave me and stuck it in the boxes of the people I was supposed to give it to. I didn't check to make sure the copies were good, I didn't put a number or a recipient name on it. and I learned that my angry walk shakes the whole trailer. So at least if I can't make men quiver in their boots, at least I can shake a doublewide on it's footings.

One of my favorite quotes is attributed to Steven King. "If you don't have time to do something right, when are you going to have time to fix it?"

Of course, I am a very fortunate person in that the universe is always finding ways to cheer me up. So first coworker needs me to roll her butt with the lint roller which, made me goofy and embarrassed because neither of us is touchy feely and that's really getting into her personal space. (I touched her belly once when she was pregnant. I think that is all the physical contact I have had with her in two years) And we had a good giggle over it. Then I had the conversation with bossman...

B: yeah, this show where he eats all this weird stuff. He was in the Philippines and he ate, that baby duck thing. you know the, um, um, pun tang.

G: snort. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! you mean (giggle) Balut! AHAHAHAHAHAHA! (sniff)

B: Don't ever tell anyone I said that.

G: Oh no, I'm blogging it right now. heh. (sniff)

Fun project. Need your help

In the spirit of all these postcard projects floating about, I had an idea.

I find people's fears fun. Not their scary fears, the kind that keep you up at night, but the silly ones that have absolutely no basis in reality. For example, I don't like to swim in lakes because of Lake Zombies. I know they're in there just WAITING to grab my ankle and pull me under. Then I would be a Lake Zombie too.

Here's where you come in. Draw it up. Make me some art. I want to create a scrapbook of everyone's silly fears. Put it on a post card and send or give it to me. Pass it on. Tell anyone. The more the merrier.

It can be anonymous. But it needs to be postcard size: 4 x 6, because the intent is to be able to put the book on my coffee table and take it with me when I visit people. Plus if you mail it, postcards are cheaper to mail.

Here's some legal stuff to cover my butt in case I want to publish someday...

By submitting information, you grant Gina C a perpetual, royalty-free license to use, reproduce, modify, publish, distribute, and otherwise exercise all copyright and publicity rights with respect to that information at its sole discretion, including storing it on internet servers and incorporating it in other works in any media now known or later developed including without limitation published books.

If you do not wish to grant Gina C these rights, it is suggested that you do not submit information to her. Gina C reserves the right to select, edit and arrange submissions.*

send to

Gina C
PO Box 52
Lakeside, CA 92040


Oh, I can't WAIT to see if people send it in!!!

*Full last name deleteed for my safety. in this case, Gina C is also known as Ginamonster

I never thought it would be ok

But first, a bit of madness.

There's a guy that I work with who is unbelievably handsome. And he epitome of sweetness, politeness, and all those good qualities that you like in a person. He's also extremely married. Since I have known this fellow for quite a few years now, I have grown used to his looks and I know how much he adores his wife and child, which of course makes him all the more endearing.

Now I am hardy a prude, generally, when it comes to conversation, but when he made blatent innuendos and comments today I was shocked. and a bit embarassed, as he has never talked to me that way before. The other guys I work with? of course. With them I give as much as I get and we all leave laughing. I think I was just surprised because I don't think of this guy along the same lines as the other guys I know. Perhaps I put him on a bit of a pedestal because he hasn't ever flirted wwith me before. And in the future I will be etter prepared for that kind of attention from him. I will also be more careful with refering to "them being size D" (the DRAWINGS he needed copied) and consider the wording on my request form (loose, or stapled?) a little more carefully in the future. I'm not used to being caught off guard like that.

Speaking of caught off guard, It's Girl Scout Cookie Time. and yes the scouts came a knockin a couple of weeks ago, and yes I bought even though I know I should only buy from Emily (I am a terrible Aunt. I didn't buy from Emily). When the girls came last time, (there were three of them) they came in and checked out the bird while I made my choices. (and took a little tour about the house) I thought it a little odd, how trusting they were of me, but I do live in a fairly small town and I think they could have taken me out if needed. My head was reeling after they left. High energy, those girls.
Today they returned to bring me my cookies. I happened to be reading in my room after taking off my work clothes. I threw some clothes on and answered the door to a whole gaggle of children on my doorstep. 3 or 4 girls, 2 boys and 2 puppies, one small child. They all came in. I even allowed the dogs in my apartment. They milled about for a minute among the mess then wandered back out again. Like something from Our Gang, only preteens. Kinda cool, actually, in hindsight. Once they were gone I realized that I had just let a whole group of kids parade through my house with thier dogs, and I didn't mind a bit. Actually, I kind of enjoyed the momentary hullabaloo. A very funny feeling, for me.

In light of renewed arguments

Bought forth by certain individuals in comments made towards posts printed in early January, I would like to say the following,


At risk of sounding as if I am prepared to make argument and cause myself to appear a fool by arguing with one, I will defend myself such,

That if you were to read my posts before I proofread them and make the needed improvements you would find the resulting copy to be much improved. In fact, much of my vocabulary is wasted on my lack of spelling skills. Never have I tried to present myself in the manner of an English Scholar, and therefore should not be expected to maintain perfect spelling and grammer. In short, I am human and admittedly imperfect. I write the way I think and speak, for the most part.

Ifn ya don't like it, bugger off. this is MY blog. created for my need to expound myself in a public forum. That people come here, read, and are entertained is a joyous flattery that I would never have thought possible. I am certain that there have been many who have popped in and moved on. Never to return. Feel free to follow in their footsteps if you don't like my misspellings.

This is the only response you will receive here in return to your accusations that I think by myself and not for myself, and that I flow the "spirit of the age"

I spent some time reading this article http://alesrarus.funkydung.com/archives/2211 at the suggestion of Mr Funky Dung. As I commented, I found the article to be well written and objective, something that in my initial predjudice, surprised me. In a good way. It neither changed my opinions or hardened them, but it was interesting to see things spelled out in a manner that was intelligent. and Non argumenitive. If I were a by myself sort of thinker, I think you would have found me small minded enough to ignore the article and indeed small minded enough to laugh off the idea of reading it. Some excellent points were indeed made in the article. I will maintain my own belief on the subject and leave you to yours. We will not change each other's minds.

I flow with the spirit of my heart and soul. I make decisions based on my own conjecture and build my beliefs according to life as I learn it. Or at the very least I try to. This has nothing to do with the spirit of an age which I find to be rather promiscuous and self serving. I can only be the guardian of myself and my own destiny. Preaching to others does not assist in my spiritual growth, as it is quite possible that I will find myself later to be quite incorrect. I can lead by example, by being kind because I have exeperienced unkindness, and by avoiding the mistakes I have made in the past. Do I fuck up sometimes? all the time. but I hope that I am understanding and openminded enough to see that other people do too. and I hope that I do not too often try and set my standards on others. You are entitled to openly express your opinion, not only of me but of my blog. I will never delete your comments as the opinions of others are interesting to me and I do believe in free speech. But please expect a full rebuttal when my character and intelligence is questioned.

Correction

From an earlier post, I incorrectly stated that Galelio was burned at the stake for heresay. The following is an excerpt from a biography on him:

"Galileo's support for the heliocentric theory got him into trouble with the Roman Catholic Church. In 1633 the Inquisition convicted him of heresy and forced him to recant (publicly withdraw) his support of Copernicus. They sentenced him to life imprisonment, but because of his advanced age allowed him serve his term under house arrest at his villa in Arcetri outside of Florence."

Thanks to Funky Dung for helping me to see my mistake, and my abject apologies for spreading falsehoods. I do not believe that I was lying, as I believed the information to be true.

Meanwhile, Funky, I may be misunderstanding the Catholic teachings on Sexuality, but it seems as though the teachings and beliefs are not always understood even by those following the religion. Yours, or even your priest's definition might be completely different from other Catholics interpretation. Not to sound small minded or uneducated, but I don't really care what the Catholic Church teaches about sexuality as I am not Catholic and chances are I will not agree based on what I do know about the subect teachings of the faith. (beyond, of course, informational reading and learning for the joy of it) I do not believe that consensual sex between adults is sinful. I maintain that you may believe and behave as you choose as long as it does not infringe upon my rights to believe and behave as I choose. With a consentual adult. And no, I don't want to discuss how this opens up the door to polygamy and adultery. And no, I don't want to discuss how this may or may not bend the morality of this great country of ours. Will I visit your blog? of course. I am thrilled to see that you visited mine and decided to comment. I am generally up for an even exchange of ideas and sincerely appriciate that you brought my incorrect post to my attention. Will I continue to visit? Of course I will, if I find it to be interesting and entertaining. You may very well have very interesting insight into this inflamitory issue. I am definately interested in views. But I will not argue with you. It's an argument neither of us can win, and we will only make ourselves look foolish by trying.

Blessings upon you and yours.

Nightmare

Had a terrible nightmare last night. The kind where you wake up and you don't want to go back to sleep because you don't want to return to the horrors.

Senseless brutal murders going on. Bodies everywhere. I knew who the next victim was and I couldn't get to him. Couldn't find him. I was at his house. So was the murderer. So were his children. It all felt so real. I don't understand why my mind would send me pictures like that. It's like I was there. The memories and pictures are still right there in my mind. I can't seem to shake the overall feeling. No one was safe.

I don't have nightmares very often. Perhaps that is what upsets me the most. Still can't shake it. it was so real...

Oh. oops

I'm going through my high school senior yearbook tonight trying to get inspiration for the Senior Year Project since my CD is supposed to be there on Friday and I am a total procrastinator. Here's what I noticed...

That I sang with some pretty condescending people. Not just the one that I have always felt that way about, but several others too. Maybe I am just sensitive in hindsight, but being told by my peers that I've "come a long way this year in choir" sounds a bit like, "you kinda sucked before but not as much now". And it's true, I did grow vocally my last two years of HS, but I will credit that to weekly singing lessons. Had the words been written by one of my close cohorts, I would still be flattered. But these were from the Drama folks that snubbed me all the way through. no wonder I have an aversion to actors.

The other thing I noticed was that I happened accross a picture of a boy that I had a crush on and 10(+) years later I have to say that I agree with my mom. I think he was gay. Actually, I think I heard through the grapevine that he did come out gay. No pun intended. He also turned out to be a crack head. Gay I can accept. Crack head is sad. I'm not saying that every man that isn't interested in me is gay, only that this one probably was. I mean based on the picture. I had forgotten until I started typing that he really is. Shoot. I'm digging myself deep. And no, I don't think there is a gay "look". but I have pretty good gaydar, if occationally delayed when faced with dashing good looks, and he? looked quite on the feminine side. and honestly? not really all that good looking after all.

Speaking of dashing good looks, I listenened to a couple of seconds of Robin Thicke's music and um. It doesn't appear to be to my taste. But he's still good looking.

Sign me up

Robin Thicke

Apaprently he's a singer. I shall be very dissapointed if he's not a good one. Cuz, you know, he's a very attractive man. Put him on my list!

Might be an overshare

I don't discuss health issues here, at least not physical heath issues (my mental health being somewhat questionable, especially when attractive men are around) because I am generally in great shape (lack of physcal exercize notwithstanding) However I do occationally suffer from an ailment we have all become quite familiar with due to an uprising in radio comercials called IBS. I manage my symptoms with diet. Mainly, I don't eat potatoes or cabbage. Or cauliflower. Trust me, it's for the best. I miss potatoes. For some reason I can eat french fries. Damnit.

I was recently made aware of a product on the market called Activia. It's supposed to enhance digestive health. Sounds like miracle yogurt to me! Well, i happened to be at my local warehouse store and happened o notice that I can buy it by the case and I thought, "Hey! If one of those a day will make my innards happy then I'll be happy to carry that box around"

I get to the front. Get in line. And the checker...is cute. Looked twice cute. Stared covertly to make sure, cute. (yup. still cute) And I'm thinking, "Not only am I picking up a copy of A Prairie Home Companion, but I'm buying a product that basically has a red flag on it saying I CAN'T er...digest my food in a timely manner" He had to scan it twice. Which means he gave that yogurt more than a glance.

I picked up my chick flick and my new Sinatra CD (points for Sinatra, come on) and went to grab the offending box in order to scurry out and plop. the yogurt containers came dancing right out of the box. I have now been calling attention to myself for far too long. thank GOODNESS the cups were stuck together. They slid right back into the box.

I practically ran out the door.

The question of the day is, Will I ever stop being a freak about these things? I mean, I will never be the kind of woman who announces that I do anything but tinkle, and we all know that I refuse to be held responsible for anything I do in my sleep, especially when I have snuck a bite of coleslaw, so i'm not likely to become open about other body finctions either. I'm not even comfortable buying girly stuff.

On one hand, I can say that at least it wasn't a jumbo box of condoms. on the other, if it were, I'd be getting some, right? But it wasn't. Just live bacteria cultures for me to eat. It wasn't like the time I was buying the ginormous size Seagrums 7 for the desert trip and they had to do a price check. And the checker was waving the bottle around so the whole store could see what a boozer I am. that was ALL I bought that day. At least it wasn't a huge bottle of fiber. That would have been a real red flag.

In my head I am going to pretend that I pretended it was for my mom. Or grandma. The dead one.

I really am derranged.

Honoring

We all choose to honor out ansestors in different ways. Some visit thier graves regularly, some build elaborate alters.

The dissolution of my family has bothered me for many years. It seems as though it began with the passing of my great grandmother and Joe in 1995 (it was disfunctional long before that) and it was definately sped along by the death of my grandmother.

When my father went to jail the first time after her death, I was the one who took him to the courthouse. He called me at work and told me that I was the only one he could trust. It was at that time that he gave me power of attorney so that I could take care of things while he was incarcerated. I was supposed to live in the house, but couldn't. that's a story for another day. As we drove there, I think he believed that he would get off with a warning. The judge was not feeling altogether friendly towards him that day and threw him in. I hope you never have to experience the pain of watching your father led away in handcuffs.

I took the opportunity while he was gone to salvage a few things from the house. He had told me to take them, for safe keeping, although he denys that now. I wish I could have taken more, but I didn't like going there. I grabbed what I could. The rocking chair that belonged to my great great grandmother. The one my sister wants to rock her babies in. My grandmother's wooden clogs, remnants of her childhood living with her father in a Dutch Colony in Iowa. (someone used them as an ashtray) and China. one box and one large bin of china. I wasn't able to take it all. It was the rest of the china that we wanted from the storage unit, along with the antiques. Much of the China was gathered overseas during World War II. Some of it from Occupied Japan. This was my family legacy since Daddy spent all the money and cashed in all the stocks.

When the fires raged through San Diego County in 2003, when I could clearly see the flames and my electricity was out, I packed up my critters, the china, rocker, some clothes and pictures and left. I stayed at C's house in the valley. The heirlooms went where I went that week.

It all stayed in boxes. I moved it several times but never had a place for it. It has always bothered me. I feel as though my grand and great grand parents are unhappy with the way things went. The Ma is turning in her grave and if GG and joe had graves (creamated) they would be turning back flips. They used to make thier presence knowing in the house. They are not unhappy that I had not unpacked the china, it's everthing else.

Today I brought home a china cabinet. I finally found one at the right price. the REALLY right price. I spent the day washing dishes and filling it up. When I was done, I finally felt as if I had done something to honor their memory. I finally felt peace. It is the peace you feel when you know that you have done the right thing. I know it's just stuff. I know that my ansestors are not really spiritually attached to it. I hope that they're drinking beer, smoking cigarettes and talking shit in the afterlife. Something in me says they aren't. But something also tells me that I did something today that makes it a little more right.

there is an undenyable relief in it.

Why did she do that?

A coworker told Officer Yummy that we call him such. We can't figure out why she did that. In the course of the conversation, she learned that there is someone special in OY's life. Which really doesn't change anything in my world because I remain the girl who pours the coffee. But it makes it a little less fun hen he comes in. That whole anticipation and possibility thing. Oh well. NEXT!!

Break it down now

I finally broke down and asked the Magic Pirate Head if I was going to get a return Email fom Interesting Man. The reply?

"No way, ARRGGGH"

I didn't push that line of questioning because if I started asking too many questions, my feelings would get hurt and, well, there is still the possibility that the magic pirate head could be wrong about some things. Amazingly enough though, it made me feel better.

today when I got home from work I asked if he recieved the email, and it said yes. But he may not have read it (it wasn't clear about that). Regardless, I'm going to leave it alone. Let myself be surprised, or not, as the case may be. We will just have to see!

In other somewhat related news, C and I had an interesting discussion on the way to the Airport regarding the way out minds create and control our lives. this idea is often illustrated in my own life by the people I meet when I need to meet them and the seemingly serendypidous way my life often goes. one point rang loud and clear. That to invite success, it is best to feel what success would feel like, not focus on how to get there.

And I realized that love is likely the same way. In order to invite it into my life, I would do well to remember what it feels like to love and be loved. Not in a sexual way, but that happiness and joy of being with someone you really care about, who cares for you in return. So often, I try to remember that and galloping in comes the memory of how lonely it feels to be without it. And the doubt that anyone will come along soon. Therefore, I allow myself to sabotage my chances by overriding the good with the not so good, and I invite more lonliness instead. I'm really going to work on that. Can't hurt right? Who doesn't need an attitude shift once in awhile? And while I didn't realize I might have been undermining my good intentions, I obviously was. I'm also going to stop reminding myself of how much it sucked to be with someone that wasn't right for me. I do that. I thought I was comforting myself in the idea that often we are better off alone than miserable, but it looks like I was hurting myself more.

It feels good to grow a little.

Quickie

I'm not going to post for long because i need to do laundry, vacuume, and change my clothes beore 7-ish. Here is the update...

No, Shqipo, sadly Interesting Man has not answered my email. I am telling myself all sorts of things to keep me from going off the deep end because honestly, my ego really is that fragile. Here are the excuses I am giving myself in the order that they tend to pop into my head.

He thought it was spam.
My spam catcher got his reply
He hasn't checked his email
He hasn't had time to craft his reply (a simple yes or no would suffice)
The answer is no and he doesn't want to hurt my feelings
(Mental reminder that T can only write once a week or so and Bean even less. You just never know what is going on in someone's life)
He thinks, due to casual observing, that I have something going with someone else or that perhaps I am making the rounds. (another story)
My crack was hanging out of my jeans and, ick. (my sister said it wasn't, but maybe she just didn't see)
That funny smell in the bathrom was caused by me (it WASN'T. it was totally my brother in law's swim trunks because the spa smelled funny)
I wish I knew how to make bullit points
I curse too much
I teased him about this and that too much (in which case either of those being a deal breaker would mean that he is DEFINATELY too sensitive to spend large amounts of time with me, cuz I only tease you if I like you and am comfortable with you and as long as there are no children present, I think a well timed "Fuck!" is completely appropriate.)
That discussion at dinner about how sometimes when I'm sleeping and I ate potatoes for dinner, and I'm really relaxed...(thanks sis..)To which I replied that I refuse to be held responsible for anything I do in my sleep.
He's turned off by my spinning (which he was asking questions about it so I don't think that is the case)
He's not interested
He's only interested in one thing. My snickerdoodle recipe
I wish I could spell recipe with confidence
He's an asshole.

At which point I remind myself not to be an idiot and to quit obsessing and for goodness sakes get back to work, you have more than plenty to do and use some fricking punctuation already and move along and maybe if you are lucky Officer Yummy will come into the store on Friday night for some eye candy action. And if you are really lucky then Interesting Man will respond positively and if nothing else you will at least have gotten to know him better which would be cool because you think he is interesting. Or if you are slightly less lucky, he will respond with a polite no (because I have really never seen him be anything but polite) and you can quit being a freak for a little while.

I refuse to ask the Magic Pirate Head one way or another. And that is where it is.

Remember the scarf?

I finally finished it. C will take it with him on Thursday. If the first one was too short, this one more than makes up for it. It's over 6 feet long! And no the colors are not well represented and yes, i kow it doesn't go with my red flannel shirt, but i t was either that or another bra shot and I am feeling shy today.

Neurosis

Random giant banana plant I found in Old Town. At least I think it's a giant banana. Correct me if I am wrong. It was lovely. The flower? bigger than my head.

No word. As my friends keep reminding me, it's only been two days. I am an impatient individual. However I did manage NOT to even turn on my computer last night, which was good because it would have been a bit of a waste of time. However, I did get some pillows made for my couch, so I was able to channel my energy somewhere else. I also made a batch of soap, read my book, watched movies....Thank goodness I have plans for tonight and tomorrow night. Actually, I will be having a massage after work tomorrow. I'm overdue and my body hurts. Here are the pillows...

another try at moving on

I remembered as I was driving down the mountain today that it has been 2 years, today, since I met T. I didn't think of him all weekend. I was and am proud of myself.

I still have tough days. I don't talk about them. It's a tired subject. And I, myself don't understand why I hang on so tenaciously.

I sent Interesting Man an email asking him to dinner. I wasn't thinking about what today is. I wasn't thinking that he could be someone who could finally wipe the memories away. I was thinking that I would like to have dinner with this nice man and that if I don't suggest it, it is likely that he never will. I hit the send button before I could talk myself out of it. I have been making myself ill with anxiety ever since. I just checked my email for the third time. Another email came in while I was writing this. I can't decide if I should check now or wait until I am finished with this post. I forwarded the email to the girls so that they would see that I made a move. I know that Wendy was frustrated with me that I hadn't.

It was bulk mail.

When I am done here, I am going to turn off the computer. I won't turn it back on tonight, that is how I am. I will pop in a movie, maybe something inspirational, and go put away my clothes or make something I can be proud of. I have a couple of batches of soap that want to be made. Yarn that wants to be spun and pillows that have waited nearly a year to be covered. I need to vacume. So many things that are so much more productive than checking my email every five minutes only to discover more junk mail or spam. spam mail. not the canned meat. we've been through this.

Deep breath. publish. off.

Return from the "snow"

And by "snow" I mean that there was snow on the ground but only in patches and it did not fall out of the sky.

It was a really great weekend. No drama, really and it was nice to spend time with my sister, as always. Developed a harmless crush on one of the crew. (I met him and liked him a bit last year. I was happy to see that he would be there this year) A good one of the crew, who seems like a nice guy even if he is a bit on the quiet and shy side. Which is kind of bad since I am also on the quiet and shy side. But he likes my cookies, which you know, earns him serious brownie points. Do I think anything will become of it? Of course not. Did I hear my sister invite him to camp with us on easter? damn right I did. She looks out for me. Actually, she gives her full blessing on this one. Wendy was dong her best to help me "hookit up" (if you will) but I got all panicy because I just wasn't comfortable chasing after him. Which, of course, it was pointed out, is the problem. But I think that when the mere suggestion of offering someone the rest of my cookies sends me into a complete panic and makes me want to cry, then I shouldn't do it. They say the you should do something that scares you every day. I think driving in Southern California should cover that, but I don't think they mean that you should do something every day that makes you want to go curl up and hide behind the toilet.

I (re)learned, during the course of the weekend (actually, rather quickly on Friday night) that sometimes a person is nice and interesting on email but they will drive you crazy in person. Saturday, after hours of constant chatter and one sided dialog, I finally went in to go clean the kitchen (yeah. I used CLEANING as an excuse to run away) and was followed. I really tried to be nice, I tried to be interested in the conversations, but if I don't want to sit and chat with someone about yarn, you know I'm not interested in chatting. Plus, at one point, I was trying to watch a movie, and it was the sort you actually have to WATCH and still, the chatter, in my ear. However, a person can only handle so much spam conversation and badgering about how I should eat the meat-like substance (and if I eat pepperoni I should eat spam, it doesn't matter if I don't like it because it's good). One can only argue that she doesn't NEED nor can she AFFORD a herd of Musk Ox in order to have the very valuable fiber to spin and sell and no she cannot just pay someone in Siberia very little to take care of them. And no she doesn't need an alpaca. I lightly snoozed through the conversation with my sister about how if the resident baby cried enough, sis would start lactating because she's a woman and that's how it works (my sister has never given birth). I believe I was holding said baby (who is just darling and slept the whole time) while he told Wendy that she would have, was it 15 children? Wendy isn't sure she wants any. population control, you know. It isn't like me to mostly ignore someone if possible, and it isn't like me to try and leave the room when said person enters, or avoid entering the room all together (especially when interesting fellow is in the room because you know, the only way to get to know someone is to be around them) and I feel really bad because I don't think I was being very nice and it is not like me to treat someone with anything less than courtesy. I tell myself that it's ok because I was running off the to bathroom (but only if I actually had to go) just for a moment of silence. 4000 square feet and I could only find solice in the bathroom.

BUT between the Air Hocky and Street Fighter, the bigscreen and indoor jacuzzi (which smelled terrible but we went in anyway) we had a wonderful time. I lost count of how many times I laughed so hard I cried, not counting the time I was laughing and crying a little from embarassment when I got my bracelet stuck on the hooks of my spinning wheel and couldn't get undone.

yeah. it was a good weekend.

Who wants a Beaver?? I do I do!

As many of you well know, the inside of my tower apartment looks, at any given moment, like a heard of sheep has passed thorough leaving wool and yarn in piles behind them. (and old mail. why do those damn sheep keep leaving old mail??) As you also know, I must be part Elf on account of my urge to craft incesscently and my green shoes. Unfortunate for my crafty urges, I am wearing my green shoes right now...



I think I pulled a muscle trying to get my foot up near my face in these rather tight fitting jeans. I suppose I could have taken the shoe off, but it wouldn't have been as much fun. But thank goodness, once again for my wonderous IMac, without which I could not take all these wacky pictures of myself because I rarely have visitors in the tower.

So I'm surfing about on Craftster , as I am wont to do when I should be doing other things, in this case cleaning the bird cage and baking cookies before I wander off to the mountains tomorrow (real mountains, not the foothills that surround me) and I come accross a web link. Crafty Alien

I have to click on it because, well, it's an alien thing and the logo is way cute and the person who runs it said something about kits. Alien Kits? maybe. My sister would love that. Except that I found something far better. Yes indeedy over at Crafty Alien they teach you how to KNIT YOUR OWN FOREST CRITTERS. And they are way cute and totally inexpensive and I NEED a hedgehog one for my sister because they are fertility related and we want her to be fertile so that I can have babies to sew for and it's REALLY cute. (see??)



and I TOTALLY NEED the Beaver because. heh. I want to say that I knit a beaver, you know what I mean? I mean what's funnier than a knit beaver (other than a beaver hat, which Boy Roomie had and we giggled about it very time he wore it but no really, a knit beaver is better) I mean it's totally naughty sounding but WAY cute and innocent at the same time and I would LOVE to tell the boss one fine Monday that over the weekend I knit a beaver. (who wouldn't want this here beaver floating around the house?)



And beyond that I can't decide whether I want the skunk, the fox, the raccoon, bunny or squirrel ("dad-dy, I want a squi-rrel" dang. now I have to go watch Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I like the old oompa loompas better.) the bunny would be fun to give to Bug Guy because he was out um...pruning the bunnies the other day (if you know what i mean) and one ran into his leg and scared that absolute CRAP out of him. BUT I have always had a soft spot for raccoons, foxes and skunks. especially skunks. they look so SOFT and cuddly. like a cross between a dog and a cat, but stinkier so I wouldn't, you know, try and pet one, unless it was a KNIT skunk in which case it's ok because my knit skunk wouldn't stink.

Now, if she were offering a knit sheep I might just pee myself right here (and have to buy a new office chair because I wouldn't want to sit in this one anymore) because a knit sheep casually placed in front of my door might keep that heard of mail dropping maurauding sheep out of my house and I could wander around in the dark without worrying about getting roving caught between my toes. Or, you know, I could just clean house.

Now, we all know that in addition to being sickningly crafty, messy, and drop dead gorgeous (I made that last one up) I am very excitable. and when I find something I like, I can't get enough of it which, this time is NOT a new man crush but a blogger crush because TA DA!! she gots a blog and it made me smile so I'm a-linking to it too right here:
Crafty Alien Blog even though she hasn't updated in awhile because it's got pictures of her stuff and well, I need those magnets too. you know so I can...Um. maybe I don't NEED the magnets. but you do, so buy some already.

I might buy some stuff later. Likely when I have money again. But look out because you never know when I might knit YOU a beaver.

God's Underwear

It occurred to me the other day that religion is like underwear.

Now, before you run me out on a line for being blasphemous, (yeah, I know, if you haven't by now...) hear me out. You have your typical Fundies. um. Fundimentalist Christians. I'm going to group the Muslims in here too, not because I think the faiths are alike, but, because they are often alike in their fervor. Now, I'm not talking about quiet faithful. I'm talking about the loud, in your face, suicide bombing, Bible thumping kind. the ones that approach you on the street corner and ask if you are saved. Their underwear would have to be the traditional Union Suit. Full on long johns with a butt flap and everything. These guys gotta show God and everybody how faithful they are. They have to make sure they are covered. completely covered, even though their underwear might be their only wear.

Middle Christians and Catholics? Regular faithful but not extreme Muslims? The ones who will tell you about God, but won't shove it in your face. Who go to church every Sunday and truly believe. I put the Hindu in here too. Those guys? they're wearing granny panties. (ok, briefs if you must insist that you don't wear panties) They don't mind if you see thier underwear, even if that means it's hanging out the top of thier pants...

Then there are those who believe but don't need a meeting. They worship quietly. Buhddist. Wicca (some. Some belong in granny panties). Christmas Catholics. Easter Christians. Bikinis. sometimes string, sometimes low rise. They like to know their ass is covered, but they don't like the complete cover of the brief, they definately have panty lines though.

Agnostic? Thong. totally. Ass might not be covered, but the naughty bits are.

Athiest? Commando. They don't need cover, there's no one checking!

Maybe I DO need to get back to working during the week...

I could have watched the game..

but instead I choose this. And I am so glad I did...

Number 3? Get a life!

I am so glad that I am not supid. This just arrIved in my inbox...

"kind customer we inform it that for emergency issues it must renter its personal data and change password. It can make it at this address http://www.xsshare.com/forum//includes/paypal/ sincerely yours the direction paypal"

I guess I am an "it". I am so glad "The Direction Paypal" told me so. Otherwise, I might have remained ignorant. I had better rush over to the website so that I can change my user name and password and hopefully my bank account will be empty by the time I am off work this evening. Sheesh.

Speaking of which, I need to go. See? I do have a life. Sort of...wait...crap.

Two posts on a Saturday?

I was just invited via MySpace message, to go out for caramels. I offered the politest rejection of the invitation I could come up with. I just don't want to go there again. I have found nothing but trouble meeting guys on the internet and I do not wish to try again. It's just not the right way for me.

Plus, I still do not wish to date. The guy would have to be something spectacular. I would rather be alone than to waste any more kisses on toads who could be princes. I did not tell this to the fellow, although I did mention that I am not interesteed in meeting anyone from the internet anymore (except of course, for those of you who I have befriended over years of correspondence. and even then, it's not a romantic thing. Not even a possibly romantic thing)

So I was honest if not a bit harsh. Recognizing that I could be missing out on friendship, but really preferring to meet my friends face to face. I get a better "feel" for them that way. I thought better to be honest now rather than to risk hurt feelings (his or mine) later.

Ponders

I spend a lot of time thinking about where I am in life, where I want to be, and where I have been. I realized today (not that I hadn't thought about it before, but it really hit me today) that I have been living in my current tower for a little over a year now. And that is the longest I have lived anywhere in the last three years. I have always considered myself the kind of person in need of a home. And I have tended to make a home for myself anywhere I was with the exception of living in Ramona, CA. It was never home for me.

As a child, we moved every three years, almost like clockwork. At the time, I didn't understand that my parents were doing their best to better the situation and moving was part of that process. Buying a house, then selling and moving to something bigger. When we packed up and left the Ramona house, life was uncertain and a bright future lay ahead. I felt the same way when I moved out of my mom's house 2 years ago this month. I think about where I was then.

Dating E, I had not yet met T. Meeting T changed my life. I was getting ready to move to the Lakeside house. I thought I would live there for a long time. Maybe even buy it someday. Moving into my tower was never on the adjenda, I don't even like apartments. But funny, I am happy here. I would still like to own somewhere. I am still working to that end, but messy as it is, I am comfortable here and do not see another move in my future. Not yet, anyway.

I have felt this way before though, in those gloriously happy months I lived with C. Even though we didn't plan to stay in that house, I did the best I could to make it my home, and I looked forward to investing in the next one together. In the next home, I could have more say in the decor because it would be mine too. I would be an equal owner.

that was not to be the life for me, despite what I thought, and I look back over the last three years and see how I have grown. I see the good decisions and the bad. But life has turned out good. Not at all the way I expected, but good. I have my business and my yarn, I have a set plan for becoming debt free, even though personal time has taken precident. I have my health, I have my family. I miss personal interactions. Some days are worse than others, but I think of how I made mistakes where men are concerened and I know that I am right in staying single. Not that there is anyone real on the horizon. Crushes don't really count when they don't even know your name.

I never thought, three years ago that I would be where I am today. That I would have moved three times and still manage to fill a two bedroom apartment. Three times three. A magic number. funny, I didn't realize that until now. Perhaps something interesting is about to happen after all.

Another thing that is causing ponders in my world is the abundance of babies that have popped into my world this month. I spent Wendesday evening with John, who's mother has been my friend for over half my life. Tomorrow, Beth, who's father has also been my friend for more than half my life. These are the friends that I think will be in my world forever, no matter how far they are, no matter how bad I am about writing or calling. I tell myself that their life isn't what I am supposed to be having right now, but I wonder if I ever will. And it hurts a little. Then I remind myself that there are likely things they envy about me too, and I realize that it's healthy to want what other people have, as long as it's just a little bit and you still appriciate your own good fortune. I could have compromised a long time ago. Settled down with D, even though doing so would have ended his dreams and made me crazy. Looked the other way when C was doing what he did, except that I am so proud of myself for having the courage to stand up and say it was wrong. I could have told T I wanted babies just to keep him. I don't know that it would have worked. And had I had his children, and not faced my issues the way I did, I would have resented them all. That is no way to live. No way to love.

Something tells me that had I settled, life would have gone crazy anyway. It just would have happened later. And I would have ended up right where I am. Spinning yarns in my tower. Likely without the bird and the big screen TV to keep me company. No, whether it was intentional or not, I chose a different life than that of my peers. And I need to remember that.