It's been too long

It's been an eventful week. I was absolutely exhausted all week to the point where I made myself sick, so I stayed home on Friday and slept...all day.

Friday night, Bill and I had tapas and watched The Professional. We also made a date to "consumate" our relationship, if you know what I mean. Next Saturday when he comes back from his trip. He even sent me a meeting request through Google Calendar for the event )duration: one hour), which was absolutely hilarious.

But I was still hesitant yesterday and I felt like I was really on the verge of ruining the whole thing. I wasn't sure why I couldn't just let go and enjoy spending time with someone who was really into me, or why I was nervous about taking the next step.

I went over Bill's again last night, as he is leaving this morning for a week for business. I had an attitude and was defensive about everything that came out of his mouth. It was awful. I felt like such a crazy person. So...in a last ditch attempt to salvage the evening, I came clean...squeaky clean.

I laid it all out. I'm scared, this is all so new to me, I've never done things the "normal" way with a guy, the way that is functional and healthy and blah blah blah. I wanted to start the night over and I was sorry I made it awkward...

I was doing this while I was cutting tomatoes for the salad, not looking at him because I was too embarrassed. He stood next to me, with his hand on my shoulder. When I was done talking, I looked up and he was smiling at me. He leaned over, kissed me, and just said "I know."

For whatever reason, that turned the tables for me. I let my guard down and we talked about all the reasons why being with other people had never worked out. Bill was with his ex for fours years. They were engaged for 8 months and she broke it off because she didn't want to get married...to him. I told him about Nick and how I thought my future was all laid out for me and then it was shattered, and I had to rebuild.

It wasn't too heavy and there wasn't any crying on my part, which is nothing less than a miracle. It was just right.

And we went ahead and rescheduled that Google Calendar event for a week early.

Is it possible for my faith in men to be restored?

It just might be. Between Bill being all sensitive and cuddly and a great cook, and the excerpt below, I'm starting to become a believer.

I sent Match Mike his walking papers a couple of days ago and, fearing a reply, I sort of whinced when I saw that he had actually written back.

He has this to say:

Hi Steph,
Obviously, I'm sorry to hear that. You're a great girl - it's definitely my loss.

On the other hand, thanks for being honest and up front - that's pretty hard to come by in the world of Internet dating (at least in my somewhat limited experience). I did have a great time hanging out with you at dinner, so I'm happy to be just friends if you're in the mood for that.

Either way, best of luck to you finding someone - whoever he turns out to be, he's a lucky guy.

Michael

Damn that makes a girl feel good!

Just that little bit of self pity is enough to put me over the edge

I hate my hair, I hate my nails, I hate how tired I am and I hate my attitude. What is WRONG with me?

I'm going to blame it on "too much going on" and "late nights" and "medication adjustments."

Yep...all THREE of those things.

Grilled Cheese and Tomato

I tried to write last night but the server was unavailable or whatever.

Last night was date #4 with Bill, tonight was date #5.

Last night was really fun. Mac and cheese, Idol and some pretty awesome make out sessions (eh ehm).

Tonight...well...I was a big bitch.

I'm really tired, work is stressing me out and I probably shouldn't have gone over there with the way I had myself all worked up. But I wanted to see him, and I didn't want to bail and make him think I wasn't into him.

Because I am into him. Or at least I should be.

And while I tried not to show the real mood I was in, those of you who know me know that I'm terrible at faking it. But he was really patient and determined to put me in a better mood. He even made me laugh so hard that I had tears streaming down my face. He wasn't turned off by my attitude. He actually saw it as a challenge.

He is the sweetest, nicest, most thoughtful, most normal guy, and I, in TYPICAL Stephanie fashion, do not think I deserve to be with someone like him. This is what I've been looking for and this is what I want, but more importantly, this is what I need, and I'm already doubting myself.

I'm such an idiot.

He asked me to stay over tonight, with the preface of "I know you're tired, just sleep." And he meant it.

I said no.

Let me repeat...

I am such an idiot.

My last one for today, I swear...because I'm hungry anyway

Hi! Well, like many of the people who write these, this is something I never thought I would do. But after seeing how happy my friends are with the people they met, I thought I would give it a try... I am a little shy at first, but once I get to know you, I am a really fun guy to hang out with. I love to run, and South Boston is the perfect place with the beach and Castle Island right there. I am a huge sports fan, so I like to catch up on the Sox and Pats whenever I can. I like to get out, explore and learn new things every day. I am very easygoing, and get along well with everyone.

Replace "easygoing" with relaxed, multiple this paragraph by 10,000, and you have the guys within a 10 miles radius of me that are looking for dates on Match.

Awesome.

Yeah. I'm bored.

So I've seen some crazy things on Match, but I've never seen this:

I'm about to be 22 next Friday, 9/15, I got put in a 42 day coma which was from a severe beating which left me in a wheelchair but I can and do walk with a walker. I would say I'm pretty cute with deep blue eyes, long eyelashes and a noticeably cute face, so I'm told. I'm very intelligent, quick witted and carefree (kinda) lol. I love writing poetry when depressed or very happy. I would like to meet a girl whose appreciative, giving, sexual and really understanding and forgiving.

These are the things that make me feel less crazy. Is that mean?

Confession Time

I promised I would be really honest with myself while trying to find "Mr. Right" this time around.

Here goes.

Bill called me a while ago, just like he said he would. He was stuck in traffic for almost two hours on 95 on his way home from work, so it's 8 and he's just getting home. We talked for a bit about tomorrow night and watching The Idol (he asked me about this last night), about what he was eating for dinner, about how his cat hates me, about how we hate Kraft singles. And I almost said something like "Well, I'm not doing anything right now...Want me to come over?"

BUT I DID NOT. Instead, I told him to have a nice night and I hung up the phone. Now I can't stop thinking about it.

And you know why? It's because I want instant gratification and I want to "unknowingly" sabotage this good thing. But I also know that is a mistake. And I realize that the anticipation of seeing him again seems almost as satisfying as actually seeing him. I know this is the best part and instead of looking at it in a bad way, I need to enjoy it. And I think he's in the same place. I think he wanted to ask me just like I wanted to ask him. But neither of us did, because...we just didn't.

As Bill said last night "The only thing better than having sex is not having sex." He's actually making fun of the following line in a terrible movie that we watched that I thought would be good but was not good: "The only thing better than kissing on the first date is not kissing on the first date."

Nevertheless, I understand the principle. The build up is usually way better than the actual thing. And while this is risky and could lead to crushing disappointment, it's just fucking true.

So what's my confession? I'm disappointed about something that didn't happen that was never even supposed to happen, and the self doubt is creeping up on me. If I use the rational part of my brain, I realize this is a ridiculous thought and quickly dismiss it.

But the irrational, overly emotional, insecure part of me believes it whole heartedly.

Shit. I thought I was past this...

TROUBLE

This is where shit gets tricky.

So Bill and I had a great time last night (of course), and I can't stop thinking about lying on the couch with him and making out because it just felt really good. (A note to readers: all articles of clothing remained ON. Who's proud of me?) I'm not even sure what it is about him that has rendered me a complete obsessive crazy person. Is my self esteem that low...Am I that desperate? Maybe. Or maybe I just really like this one.

He makes pizza on Sundays, so we had pizza. He made the pizza dough from scratch in the bread machine and everything. I felt kind of inferior. But I made a salad with lots of cucumbers. And, since he shares my affinity for sweet baby greens and seedless cucumbers, it was a huge hit. He was really thankful that I brought him beer and salad. I was like, "Uhm...it's really not that hard."

At any rate, I was over there until 12:30 last night, well past the end of the Oscars, and the local news was in the background while I was trying to will myself off of his really comfortable leather couch where it was really warm in his really gorgeous apartment that he owns...

So this is the tricky stage. I need some rules of engagement.

1. Stay breezy, but still obviously interested.

2. Do not go out of your way to drive by his house to see if the lights are on in his apartment.

3. Always wait a sufficient amount of time before returning emails, phone calls and texts. Not too long, but just long enough so that he starts to sweat just a little on the other end.

4. Remain only mildly available. Don't go for last minute plans because you are obviously a very busy person and things need to be booked in advance.

5. Don't ask about old relationships until you are at the "boyfriend" stage. This also applies to the optional "How many people have you slept with" conversation.

6. Do not give it up until at least the 6th date. (Why do I pick 6 as the arbitrary number? I really don't know. We are past date number three which, according to Glamour readers, means I am not a skank...this time.)

7. Don't ask awkward questions whilst making out/in the heat of the moment.

8. Get the cat to like you. Put cat nip in your pockets if necessary.

9. Don't assume you are invited over...EVER. Sure he lives right down the street, but still.

and 10. DO NOT have obsessive thoughts that will only shatter your self image and create crippling self doubt.

Don't I give myself good advice?

Second Look

I just re-read that email from Charlie ("Mixed Messages") and I do think he meant well, but was very unpoetic about it. Boys can be so dumb.

Weak in the knees, but not in that "I just need to get some" kind of way

WELL. Last night was the second date with Match Bill.

So far, I cannot find anything wrong with Bill. Last night, I took the 5 minute walk over to his apartment and he made me fancy food (an experimental dish for him, nonetheless), which was as good as, if not better than, anything I've ever eaten in a restaurant. Then we watched a terrible movie that we both made fun of through the whole thing. Then we talked/made out for about 4 hours. There was way more talking and snuggling. I got over there at 6pm and I didn't leave until 1:30am. As Bill said "It's almost like a shift."

But let me just throw this out there: The making out wasn't the hungry, "I can't wait to take your clothes off and ravage you" type of making out. It had the potential to be, of course, but somehow it was kept low key. I'm at a bit of a loss for words to describe it, actually. Shocking, I know.

And this is me not questioning it or over analyzing it. See?

Some other things I found out about Bill:

1. His cat isn't crazy about me, but she does see me as competition, obviously. I kept telling Bill that he is SO that cat's bitch. No question. He denies it, of course.

2. Bill's apartment is gorgeous. Well, anything is nice compared to my place but still...this place is amazing. Three (small) bedrooms, huge kitchen, laundry room, dining room, living room. All hardwood floors and recently renovated but still not that bleach white generic kind of place. His decorating is plain but still very coordinated and pleasant. And...wait for it...wait for it...Bill owns this place. That's right. He doesn't rent it. It's a true Condo (way more than 550 square feet, Yoda) and he pays a mortgage. Uh huh. He's also the "Condo President" which is just precious.

3. I knew Bill had great legs, but it was just last night that I noticed his ass. Uhm...yeah.

4. Bill and I weigh about the same. He's pretty skinny as in, skinnier than me but taller. We'll see how that rolls. It is nice to have to point my head up just a bit to kiss him. That's not bad at all.

5. Although I knew Bill was really smart and had done well for himself, it's even more so than I thought. Did I mention that he owns his beautiful apartment that is 5 minutes down the street from me? DID I?

6. A very quick, visual assessment tells me that he is *eh ehm* well equipped.

He invited me over to watch the Oscars tonight. So...I'm going to try really hard not to mess this up and not sleep with him on the third date.

Wish me luck!

Excitement!

Date tonight date tonight date tonight!!

EEEeeeeeeeeee!

Mixed messages

I know that all men are mildly brain dead on some level.

But this email from Charlie on Match (I winked at him) really has me perplexed. Can anyone tell if he's really interested in talking to me or not?

Subject: re: your wink, or something like that

Swingers is one of the greatest movies of all time. Typically, though, girls think it's a "guys file" and don't get it. And i'm secretly a little glad about that, because everything you need to know about guys is in that movie. Sadly enough...The nice thing about my favorite movie (the Big Lebowski) is that it's hard to even pretend it has any insight into the human condition. Except that people love to bowl.Speaking of which, i think it's kind of awesome that you had bowling first on your "things i like" list. Even though i haven't been in about a year, i always loved it. And I think my cousin works at that 24 hour bowling place off of 93, so i probably should go bowling soon.I also love that you twice mention cleaning is a hobby of yours. Though i suppose that if i had cleaning as a hobby, it would surprise so many people that i'd need to list it twice. Hmm, maybe more then that...Hawaii, always seems so amazing, and i want to go as well. I'm certified in scuba, but it's just way too bloody cold around here for me to want to go diving, so i'd love to Hawaii. That, and climbing up active volcano's, and those amazing-looking beaches, and the fact it's the middle of winter here, i think i might have convinced myself to go next week.Well, i just wanted to respond, and say "hey". because i definitely need to talk to anyone who doesn't like "swordfish, beets, raw onions and liver and onions" Because liver and beets are probably my too least favorite foods in the world. -charlie

Then there is the following email from a 35 year old dude whose portrait is "no longer available."

Subject: Hey

I like your profile. An interesting read. especially the part about I am a kind hearted person with an edge. You ever go clubbing in Boston?

Ugh and Ew!

Don't get psycho

That's what I'm telling myself. Stay breezy.

Sure you just talked to Bill for an hour and a half on the phone and loved every second of it. Sure he's smart and funny and confident without being arrogant. Sure he's tall and has great legs and eyes that hypnotize you.

DON'T GET PSYCHO.

Calm down, put it in perspective and remind yourself that, odds are, he will end up being competely wrong for you.

Ok. Better now.

Why are you so lame?

Match Mike has yet to use my phone number and continues to email me. I have now officially lied to him about "being tied up at work" and not able to hang out with him tomorrow night. Granted, I did get a more tempting invitation today, but whatever. This guy is just annoying me with his dating retardedness.

Alice has written me the perfect "Dear John" letter to send to Mike. I've pasted it below:

Mike,
Thanks for the offer to go out again. I think you're a really nice guy and we had some really great conversation when we went out. But to be honest, I don't think it's fair to lead you on when you could be dating girls who are more your type. I got a great vibe from you but it was definitely more along the friend line then on any romantic level. I certainly don't want you to take this as rejection because I know that can sting but we're both on match to meet the right person for us and I feel like you are not it for me. Thanks for a great time, good luck finding someone else (which should be no problem. You're a great guy)

P.S.-You resemble a Yoda bobble head that a Star Wars Geek would hook to his VW Gulf with bumper stickers saying, "May the Force Be With You" and "Lord of the Rings Rules" and the eye twitch kind of creeps me out like a strobe light in a gay club. Thanks for the free drinks sucka.

It's perfect, isn't it?

Bill said to me on our date last weekend that there really weren't that many "cool" people on match and we need to stick together. I agreed that yes, I was cool and it was very difficult being me.

The Idol is on. I must go.

There is just so much to talk about

A few updates on Bill and Mike.

Let's get the shorter story out of the way first.

Mike. Oh Mike. Mike has no game. I emailed Mike my phone number after our first date and, instead of calling, Mike emailed me his number. All I can do is shake my head. He wanted to go to the MFA on Monday. It was too soon for me and I wanted to spend my day off doing mostly nothing. So I told him I had to work. So it looks like we'll hang out on Thursday now. I do want to go out with him again, if only for additional blog material. I can't wait to hear what he will suggest we do. Something extremely bland, I'm sure.

Bill. Oh Bill. Bill is fucking hilarious. Everytime I think of his tirade on Paula's clapping, I chuckle out loud. Note to self: Try to avoid thinking about this in a client meeting.

Since we spoke on Sunday night, we've been exchanging several emails on a daily basis. He is taking a training class for work and has been telling me about the teacher. Here are some excerpts:

"my class is actually pretty good. The teacher is unintentionally funny, she keeps making inadvertant suggestive comments and doesn't realize what she's saying."

"she just drew a penis on the white board. she claimed it was a database connection, but I'm getting suspicious of her motives."

I told him to watch himself if she followed him to the bathroom and also not to leave his glass of water unattended.

"teach seems to have cooled on me."

Then...

"I think its on again... I just asked teach if there was a way to change the Font of a certain window. And she was like 'Yah, you go here and here, and then you can change it to whatever, like Courier New.' And I was all 'That's exactly what I wanted to change it to.' Now she wants to have all my babies."

Yeah. This last quote is exactly something random that I would have come up with. It rules.

I'm waiting for him to suggest what we do this weekend. Waiting...

The Idol is on tonight...top 24 guys. Yes! My fruity cocktail and I are counting down the minutes.

"Who claps like that?"

I just hung up with Bill after about an hour and a half. I'm not sure what we spent an hour and a half talking about, but I do remember one highlight that had me laughing so hard I was curled up in the fetal position with stomach cramps.

Bill loves American Idol, as do I. All I said was "Paula" and he started a two minute monologue on how she claps. It was...amazing. It went something like this:

"Have you seen how Paula claps? Most people keep one hand stationary and then use the other hand to drive into the stationary hand to produce a clap. And most people keep their fingers closed while doing do, too. Not Paula. Paula claps with BOTH hands, just palms touching. It makes no noise. She spreads her fingers out as wide as they can spread and always brings her hands above her head...(voice gets quieter) It's actually really awesome."

Bill. Oh Bill.

I have to say they've grown on me over the years...

I went to my parent's tonight for dinner. I told them I was doing online dating and they were all questions. It was actually really cute. So, I told them about Mike and Bill, more about Bill. Although my Dad loved my description of Bobblehead Yoda. My impersonation of the eye twitch had him in tears.

So while we are eating, Bill calls (sweet!) and I let it go to voice mail. Five minutes later my Dad is all "Can we listen to the message that Bill left?" So, I put the phone on speaker and we all lean in and listen to Bill's message: "Hey Stephanie, it's Bill. I'm driving from Minneapolis to Rochester and will be in the car for about an hour. Give me a call later...errr...tomorrow. I had a lot of fun last night. Talk to you soon. Bye."

My step mother: "He sounds cute!"
My Dad: "You should call him back tonight. But don't tell him you played his voice mail for your parents."

Hilarity ensues.

Your comments are appreciated...kind of

I've disabled the comments feature on my blog (unless you are a registered blogger user), because most of what I get is crappy spam.

If you have a burning question or comment, just email me.

Baby Blues

Well, since my fans are waiting in eager anticipation for news on my date with Match Bill, I can no longer keep you in suspense!

First of all...I arrived at the restaurant 10 minutes late, the only reason being that I'm an idiot. It wasn't that cold and I should have just walked from my apartment. But I thought that I might find a close parking spot. How silly of me. I ended up parking closer to my apartment than to the restaurant. Whatever.

So I walk up and Bill is sitting in the waiting area, looking cuter than his Match pictures. I see him, apologize and am instantly knocked over (metaphorically speaking) by his eyes. They are a color blue that I have never seen. I didn't stop looking at them all night. I happen to be a sucker for blue eyes (probably because mine are brown and boring).

I also liked his voice right away. This has become a trait that is apparently pretty important to me for who knows what reason. (Match Jerk #1 sounds like he's 16, so maybe I should have known right off that that was going nowhere.) It was a bit awkward at first (duh) and I think (for me, at least) it had everything to do with how cute I thought he was.

We talked and ate and laughed. He's really funny and I kind of figured he would be, based on his emails. At one point, he had me laughing so hard that my stomach started to hurt. I tried to recall the last time that had happened to me with a guy and I couldn't. I found out he's from Springfield, Westachusetts, which opened up my endless supply of Westachusetts jokes, of which he has plenty of his own. His parents are ultraconservative (he's not) and he has an older brother named Paul. He will be the big 3-0 on March 14th, which also happens to be the birthday of a dear, dear friend of mine. He works for the Mayo Clinic, where he helps monitor and write the computer software for the laboratories. I was quick to point out that this means he is an intregal part in finding the cure for cancer and saving lives, to which he agreed and told me that's usually "his line." But seriously...he is. He has red hair and is about 6'2", pretty slim and very fair. He's actually half Italian, which I find hilarious.

We talking about everything. I shared with him my monumental purchase of yesterday...a real, live Dustbuster. I explained to him that this purchase actually makes me feel like a more complete human being, to which he responsed with "I understand." Yes! He also spent a good minute trying to remove a small piece of onion (without actually touching it) from our table (left from the previous dinners) by using the menu as a shovel. He finally gave up and pushed it behind the fruity drink menu. It was hilarious.

After the restaurant, we headed to another bar and had three more drinks. When we started to get ready to leave, I asked him the BIG question, the question that holds integral importance: "What cell phone service do you have?" His answer was the correct one.

It turns out he lives less than a quarter mile from me on a cross street. He lives alone and has a cat named, Nico. He showed me a picture, and she's pretty cute as far as cats go. Apparently she plays fetch.

He's going to Minnesota (home of the Mayo Clinic) for the week but said he would call. I told him he didn't have to wait three days.

Bobble Head Yoda with an Eye Twitch

That's your visual in order to fully share in the experience that IS online dating session #2: Match Mike from Kentucky.

Tonight was a very normal, nice encounter with Match Mike. We had great conversation, never an awkward lull, good food, drinks and he paid. Sounds great, right?

Well, that's just it. Mike is very nice, but I am not the least bit attracted to him in "that" way. My gauge on this is if I can picture myself kissing him. No. No I cannot.

There were some odd, slightly uncomfortable moments that I did a great job of glossing over. He is your classic, Kentucky raised, software engineer. He claims to be "middle of the road, maybe more liberal minded" yet made some pretty scathing comments about Section 8 housing. Something like "If you're poor, you should live in the ghetto. I shouldn't have to pay for you to live somewhere nice." The more I think about it, that is an exact quote.

I let that one slide. I had to fire someone today, and I wasn't in the mood to have extremely uncomfortable conversation #2 of the day. I also let slide his comment about "small government" which, last time I checked, wasn't all that liberal. I am far from being a political expert, but I'm pretty sure he's still got quite a bit of Kentucky in him.

But I did ask about the fried chicken. He said it is quite good.

Some interesting quirks about Mike:
1. I shit you not, he looks like Yoda. Mostly the teeth and the almond shaped eyes.
2. His eyelids twitch constantly. It's unnerving. At first I thought he was winking at me repeatedly, but then thought better of it.
3. While listening to me go on about this and that, he didn't just nod his head; It was almost as if he separated his head from his neck and was bobbing it up and down using some sort of invisible force (Yoda!). If you've seen your run of the mill bobblehead doll, on a dashboard, in a car, on a very bumpy road, you have it.

#3 may have been nerves, because this improved over the two hours we chatted.

But so help me, I could not stop thinking about Luke, Vader and the Force. As much as I tried.

But I told him we would hang out again. I don't want to completely dismiss him, as he seems to be a very nice gentleman.

Then I went to DSW. It is so hit or miss...

In other news, John (Date #1), actually called me tonight and left me a message. Something like..."Haven't heard from you in a few days, wondering when we're gonna meet up again." I spoke back to my voice mail in disbelief: "WHAT?" He's dillusional. A small, small dillusional man.

California?

The second to last episode of The OC aired tonight.

I have a history with this show. It reminds me of things that are bittersweet.

It hasn't been that great lately, but it used to be amazing. Tijuana??

I'm going to go ahead and embarrass myself...I'm a bit choked up about next week's finale.

:(

You really need snow tires on that thing

Ah yes...the joy of seeing the rich and snobby shrink in shame. If only I had really seen it. IF ONLY!!

My old supervisor (if you can call him that) is a trust fund baby who has to continue to work for certain reasons. Use your imagination.

To protect myself, we'll call him...Mr. Brat.

Mr. Brat drives a ridiculously expensive luxury vehicle (estimated cost: $80,000) that he bought with his trust fund. He parks it in a gargage in the South End. Get the picture?

Anyway...we had quite a storm yesterday and Mr. Brat got stuck at the intersection leaving work. I wish I had witnessed it because it sounds like it was a a LAUGH RIOT. Three strangers PLUS my work husband had to push him through the intersection. THEN Mr. Brat spun off the Pike and had to get towed. THEN he "worked from home" today.

HAHHAHAHHAHAHHAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Ok...I need to catch my breath.

In other news, that big fucking jerk who ditched me after the 3rd date actually tried to get in touch with me today. As IF.

Stay tuned for summaries of Dates 1 and 2.

Until next year...

I'm going to bed, so Valentine's Day is officially over. Phew. I made it through again without incident.

Not like last year was so great...or the year before...or the year before.

Ok, so maybe I've never had a non-shitty V-Day.

What I've always loved is that you can call it VD. That's awesome.

Match Mike and Match Bill

So...fake boyfriend #1 turned out to be a big fucking jerk. Long story short...he got what he wanted and then acted pissed off about something stupid to get me to go away. I will say this...that boy plays a good game. It's impressive. It will catch up with him though. He was lacking in....certain areas anyway. In this case, that would have been a deal breaker eventually.

But we move on.

While I have never been the biggest fan of "dating," I'm excited for my dates this weekend. Yep...Dates...Plural!

Friday night will be a casual, after work encounter at a local brew pub. Match Mike and I work close to each other. He writes software for anti virus or anti spam or something. The kind of guy you can totally picture with a pocket protector...but it would be a cool pocket protector. He looks pretty nerdy and claims he is 5'11" (which means he's 5'10" max) but any man who can write a long-winded email better than myself about the wonders of the Dustbuster is worth at least a first date.

Saturday night finds us with Bill. Bill lives here in Waltham (I think pretty close by) and also does something with computers. He is super sarcastic and is addicted to The Idol. In addition, he also hates beets. Bring it on.

Bill is currently ahead, but only by a hair.

Updates will be posted accordingly. Who knows what will come of all this, if anything. But it will be fun for you to read. And I really only know of one person reading at the moment...

:)

Boys are stupid, part...gajillion

I had a rough, rough day and I'm not hanging in so well.

I'm not sure why I haven't learned a few things by now. Like...I hate men, boys, whatever you'll want to call them. I don't understand them, I will never understand them.

My fake boyfriend and I had some lovely dates over the weekend. I've texted him "can't wait to see you again" called him "call me if you are around" and all I've gotten is a few lines in Yahoo Messenger. Awesome. That's just great. Heaven forbid he call or...CALL.

What don't they get?

I'm PMSing like crazy and I'm this new medication and going off an old one...

I'm such a mess.

I'm not ready to make nice

So the Dixie Chicks really fuckin' rock, man!

I'm watching the Grammy's, which are usually torture, but the most recent DC performance was just fantastic. And the song makes such wonderful sense. I love it. I just bought it from the iTunes store. Look how 2005 I am!

At any rate. My new fake boyfriend is really cute and I went out with him Friday night AND Saturday night. It's pretty exciting.

But there is no way in hell that I'm getting my hopes up.

Sweet

I have a date tomorrow night with my virtual fake boyfriend!

Wish me luck. :)

Love in an elevator

It's the only Aerosmith song that I like. It's not related to this post at all.

You will only be entertained by this post if you have seen my favorite movie!

I went to bed early last night and was awakened at 12:30am by a text message from my new Match boyfriend. He had given me his number on Thursday night via Yahoo Messenger. And on Thursday night, I called him...and was met with his voice mail. I left a message that I thought was money. All day yesterday I was being a super neurotic freak and wondering why oh why he had not called me back yet. Obviously, I'm terrible at this.

Anyway...I get a text from him (we'll call him...John) with a short..."Hello :)"

In my half asleep stupor, I am very tempted to text back, so I do of course. And this is what I text: "Laugh all you want Mikey, but if you call too soon, you might scare away a beautiful baby who's ready to party." Now John and I have been quoting lines from my favorite movie back and forth to each other since we started our communication on Monday. And of course, I love it.

Side note: I fucking HATE god damn Nextel phones. JUST CALL THE PERSON so the rest of us don't have to hear your enter conversation...from both sides!

Sorry.

He text's back at 4 this morning with: "That's why waiting three days to call you back was kinda money."

So now I'm really excited.

Yet, it's important to note that I'm not getting my hopes up and always expecting the worst. Because that was a hard lesson learned, and history tends to repeat itself.

And so much happens in 6 months...

I have a pile of shit in my blog from fuckers who want to just clog it up with spam. I've returned for that reason, if no other.

I have no idea if anyone has even checked this lately. I'd like to start to write in it again, as I feel I have so many stories to tell.

So...hello again.

The job is still going well. There have been promotions (not me), title changes without promotions and/or raises (that would be me), and accolades upon accolades of what a fantastic job I'm doing! Well...that's great and all but I think I need a little more than a pat on the back. It's getting ridiculous. I want more GD money. I am making slightly more money than when I started, yet I have accrued more debt than I had before. I'm still trying to figure out how the hell that happened. Let's bank on that tax return that is bound to be extremely disappointing.

I love where I work, just not the company I work for. It that makes no sense to you, then you haven't been paying attention.

I got over Nick, dated Brad* 6 months later and broke up with him a few weeks ago after 2 months. My shortest and weirdest relationship. Brad was probably the most normal and stable guy I have dated, buuuuut I came to learn quickly that it is merely because he is very, very stupid. He also had a very weird sexual aggression thing going on which I really think has something to do with a mother issue. But I'm no expert. And a terrible, terrible kisser. How I thought I could train it or deal with it long term...it was naive of me.

I don't mean that Brad is stupid in the way that he can't read or is mildly retarded. I mean stupid as in he has no social tact. He is 32 years old and still acts as though he is a teenager...a really rude teenager. Now, I know he was never the right match. That is now abundantly clear. I am so ready to be with someone that I thought if I rode it out, he would grow on me. Well...as soon as the relationship became work, he bailed. Or, more appropriately...he didn't have the balls to bail and I had to do it for him. A weak, weak man who is concientious, yes! but far past the point of normalcy. It's to the point where he jeopardizes his own happiness by doing something that will make other people (read: over bearing, old school Italian family) happy. Sad and sadder...which leads us into the next part of the story...

I'm really not all that angry about it anymore. I just wanted my stuff back.

This is part when it gets complicated and you have to keep up:

He (Brad, now my ex) is already dating the ex-girlfriend of his best friend. Now...the best friend's current girlfriend just happens to be Nick's ex girlfriend, the one before me. Remember her? Well...bite your tongue, but we're friends now. HAHHAHAHAH. Isn't life just hilarious? She is a very nice girl. Being cordial and a non-bitch in her presence really paid off. I love karma.

Brad's new girlfriend is affectionately known as The Skank. She and Brad have been friends for quite some time (since childhood I think) and now they have decided that it would be a good idea to date. (Brad's parents LOVE The Skank) Maybe I'm just not familiar with this "circle of friends" tactic, but it seems super fucked up to me. Let's just pass around the pussy! EWWWWWWWWW!

What's the greatest is that Alice* (Nick's ex before me, now my friend) HATES The Skank. For obvious reasons, and for some other non-savory reasons, that The Skank has brought upon herself.

The whole things grosses me out to the max, but no longer gets me heated. It's done, it's over with and I'm moving on. I'm sure I learned something that will become abundantly clear at some point in the very distant future. As for now, it is not at all apparent to me.

So now here I sit on a Friday night, writing in a dry blog. Why? I'm really tired. I could have gone out but I'm exhausted. I've started on Match.com and it's draining. I hope it pays off...eventually. I did buy the 6 month guarantee. Hopefully a year will be long enough to the find my virtual life partner.

Maybe we should start a pool on that.

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent OR the stupid.

Umbrella update

I know it's been keeping you up a night...wondering if I ever found my long-lost umbrella?? WELL...I never did.

HOWEVER, I went out and bought a newer, cuter, improved version. It took me 20 minutes to pick it out.

Celebrate!!

So I think I predicted that I would really never write in this after I got my new job. I'm so smart!

There isn't a whole lot new to report. The ex is diligent about getting in touch with me and I am doing my best not to entertain it. The most recent attempt is a text message about how he "was so wrong." Sure, my curiosity wonders what on earth he is admitting he was wrong about, as there are a quite a few things to choose from. But it doesn't matter. It's way past being done.

The situation with the ex's ex at work has gotten much better. I'm not so much uncomfortable around her anymore and we are cordial. I still think she's really annoying and a big brat, but she can be really entertaining and, if I'm having a day that I can actually seperate her from being the ex's ex, I just find her to be so ridiculous that it actually makes me feel better about myself. And who doesn't want that??

And work is insane...so busy and crazy and all consuming. But I still love it AND...I have my particular part of the account in the best place it has been since its beginning. And after a mere two months. Go me!! :)

The guy who sits in the cube on the other side of me called me a "go-getter" today. Yikes.

I wanted to write not because I necessarily have the time, but because there are things my people need to know.

First of all, work is fucking great. Really. It's super demanding and stressful and draining. I love it.

In other news (because I didn't want to lead with this):

Recently, I spoke with the Ex's Ex. For those of you who don't know the story behind this, I'm real sorry, but I'm not going into it right now. It's a long one and I don't have the stamina.

Turns out the guy that I genuinely thought I would marry and have children with is deeply disturbed and has long-standing emotional and financial issues. I had always thought he was quite a loser on paper, but still a good guy at heart with plenty of potential. Well, he may have good intentions (I'll never know) but if the stories she told me were true, he did me a huge favor by dumping me.

Shit...do I say "Thank you"?

What the?

It's going to rain for the next forever and I can't find my umbrella. I've had this umbrella for about 10 years now. I used to hate it. It's this really gawdy red plaid thing that my grandmother gave me for Christmas one year. My cousin has one in the same plaid, but this equally gawdy royal blue. I wonder if she loves hers as much as I love mine. I just always wanted a black one. But I've learned to love it over the years, embrace it, in fact, for it's utter ugliness. It's become one of my favorite things.

And it has disappeared and I am so very lost.

I never lose shit. Ever.

Better than him

I can't imagine how things would be different if I had never met Nick. I'm not sure I would have had the confidence to go for the job I have now. I'm not even sure if would have crossed my mind. He encouraged me quite a bit through it. If anything, he was the driving force behind it. Once of us had to be successful and I decided it was going to be me.

But then I think...That's the wrong reason to go after something like that. I should never do it for anyone else except myself. There would have been different hesitations and different hang ups, but I think I still would have realized it was the right opportunity for me.

I love Nick. I really do. And it kills me to write that and think that and want that...and not be able to have it. It hurts so much that I can't even begin to write about it. But I have to because if I don't, I'm fucked. Because I can't talk to him, I can't tell him all this stuff. And who knows if he even reads this. I'm sure he lost the link, he's terrible at keeping track of things.

And I can't talk to him because there is nothing left for me to say. The questions I have, I know he doesn't have answers to. I need to get to a place where I am content with never having answers. But that's hard. That is what makes my heart sink and my throat get tight. That is what I think about before I fall asleep and it is the first thing on my mind when I open my eyes.

I miss him terribly. I miss the way he enunciated and I miss his son yelling in the background. I miss him calling me "kid" and "baby" and I miss being the most important person in someone else's world. And I miss having that person in my world.

The harsh reality is that he's in a bit of a mess...and he obviously has some stability issues. The harsh reality involves plane ticket purchases, made with money that he doesn't have, and probably will never have. I think he believed in the promises that he made me, but that was part of the problem. He wasn't lying to me, he was lying to himself.

So where does that leave me? Well, it leaves me with a broken heart...but a really bright future. I know what is important to me now, and I may not have known that before. I know how to love the deepest, and most passionate way. And I'm really fucking proud of that.

I miss you more than you know. But I get it...and I will eventually learn to forgive you.

Shit

What a fucking crappy hand I keep getting dealt. I guess this can only mean one thing: Some REALLY GOOD STUFF must be coming down the pike any day now. Right?

At any rate, Nick is now the official "X" and I'm basically a big fucking mess this weekend. My grandmother's memorial service was this past Saturday, and that wasn't exactly fun either.

He dumped me because we are just too "different" which is completely lame and I just don't get it. I'll never get it. I called him today for closure and all he really had to say was "Sorry." I asked him again if there was someone else, and he said "no." I asked me again if this was really what he wanted and he said "'Want' isn't the right word."

I wasn't expecting much.

Some good things about all of this:
1. I no longer have to deal with an ex-wife.
2. I no longer have to carry around two phones all of the time.
3. I no longer have to pay for expensive plane tickets or go more months than not without seeing my boyfriend.
4. I can finally decide whether or not I want to REALLY move out of my apartment and into a better one.
and 5. I can be single with the rest of my friends for the summer.

So...there's that stuff. I wish this was easier and didn't completely suck so much. But...as Fiona would say:
"It ended bad, but I love where we started."
And..."What wasted unconditional love...on somebody who doesn't believe in the stuff...oh well!"

Thanks for everything.

I know it's been a long time...

But news requires an entry.

After a harrowing weekend of stressing about whether or not my boyfriend was alive (he is) because I couldn't get a hold of him, I am once again blindsided by the harsh reality of relationships.

He can't do it anymore.

And so...I'm lost.

Hot Damn!

Party people!!

For some completely random and barely explicable reason, momma got a 10% raise!!!!!! Actually, it's a bit more than that. And who really cares if it has nothing to do with merit? I sure as hell don't.

Yay!! Celebration!!

Ha!

Perhaps I'm not so much of a jerk! Fooled you!

With the end of my time here very much upon me, I'm doing less and less work as each day passes. It is alternatively awesome and riddled with guilt.

Let me take this especially low motivation moment to speak of the most horrifying, yet also most hilarious/enjoyable, dog incident.

Two weekends ago, as I've noted in past entries, I went to see dear Aimee in PA/NJ. Whilst there, I joined Aimee at her friend's house for a bit of dog-sitting and pad-watching. Said friend was on "The Shore" with her fat, disgusting, mindless boyfriend (I'm paraphrasing) and entrusted dear, sweet Aimee to watch her dear, sweet puppy, Maggie.

Although Aimee warned me that Maggie would not only be a Pit Bull, but also that she would be less than friendly, I continued to insist that all animals love me and I'm sure she'll warm up to us in no time.

When we walked into said friend's condo through the garage, there was Maggie, within her kennel, in all of her growling, spitting, barking, terrifying glory. While Aimee urged me not to make eye contact, I scurried up the stairs to the second floor, thoroughly shaken by my close encounter with one of those beaten, fighting dogs on Animal Police. It was just like that.

While the shenanigans proceeded, I felt utterly hopeless that I would never, ever get to cuddle such a gorgeous dog. She was horrifying, but at the same time was just completely scared of us and kept avoiding any sort of interaction. Anytime we tried to go near her, she growled. Anytime Aimee tried to take her outside, she wouldn't pee and then would come in and drop a deuce on the carpet instead.

The following evening, I was determined to be snuggling doggy style by Sunday morning. I sat next to Maggie on the window sill where she took up lodging (in order to get as far away from us as possible) while Aimee cooked us a lovely meal of beans and meat. While Maggs continued to look weary, she did let me touch her.

Then, the most incredible thing happened! While Aimee and I were lying on the floor in the living room watching a movie, the Maggenator started playing with us and rolling around and showing true love! It was magical.

Magical...

Things would be so much easier if everyone just did things like I do them

When Elaine says "I'm ready to clean today" one would assume she means the office as a whole. One would also assume the same when she follows up with "This place is a mess."

Alas, dear friends, it means she is going to go through the mountains of papers she has on her own desk. This is a ritual that occurs once every couple of months and takes her an entire afternoon. I have no idea how she acrues the shit that she does because I don't seem to have the same need to purge my desk every so often. Maybe that's because I'm actually organized and not a scatterbrained freak. Who knows.

The promise to finish my stories of the Tri-State area was nevery fulfilled, I know. I'm such a jerk.

As of May 22nd, not only will I be beginning a new chapter at Private Sector Technology Company, but the boy will also begin a new job that I (eh em) procured for him.

I'm running low on awesome juice.

The Ultimate Frustration

If I could stick a gasoline soaked sock in Elaine's mouth right now and light it, I would.

Yes, it's that bad today.

The Turnpike, mean doggies and the left lane debacle

All this and more in...where else? JERSEY!

As most of you know, I was born, raised, left for a bit, came back, left for a bit to go to JERSEY, came back then left for a longer while to NH and now I'm right back where I started...the beautiful state of Massachusetts. The only good state left, really.

Sure, there are bad things: Taxes, politics, white trash, snow, not where boyfriend or two best friends in the world live...But most of the stuff is good. And by good I mean just less shitty than everywhere else.

Take Jersey for example. I may be a Masshole, but at least I get the hell out of the way when someone is coming up my ass in the left lane of a four lane highway going 90 MPH. Those Jersians and New (Eastern, state of) Yorkers? Those fuckers have NO FEAR. They don't care if you bump them a couple times while you're behind them. No matter what their speed, they feel entitled to that left lane spot. They were there FIRST. They will NOT move, under any circumstances. Massholes? For the most part, they get the hell out of the way.

Also in Jersey, I found the first dog (not the last) that didn't actually like me.

Suspense killing you???

Stay tuned...

Jersey My Home

I'm the Garden State visiting I'd have to say my bestest and longest time friend. She's a bit obsessed with cleaning her apartment right now (we have so much in common!) so I thought I'd take a minute for an update.

Unfortunately, this lap top keyboard kind of pisses me off, so this will be brief, but check it out...

Aimee lives very near Philly (wear the boy lived for quite some time) and, not only that, but she used to live in the same town as the boy...and we passed his old apartment today, which I was hope was where he still lived, because then maybe I could see him because it's been...three months since we've seen each other. :( I try not to focus on the negative but it's tough. I'm not gonna lie.

BUT there are only three weeks left until I get to finally move over to my new, substantially better job.

Yay!!

And plus, no one can be sad around Aimee.

Find that Spam

There is SPAM in the blog...somewhere...I can smell it.

I can't FIND it to DELETE it. They do this shit on purpose.

One beer queer

I don't like to use the word queer but it ryhmes with beer so...it isn't meant to be offensive so just don't get offended. Ok?

I went "out" last night with a work friend. Now, when I went "out" in college, it usually involved at least two rounds of Kamikazee shots, one shotgunned beer and at least 10 minutes of table dancing. There were (for sure) some red cups in the mix...maybe a few ping pong balls. There was always a shirtless, vomitting wonder (not usually me) and no doubt an overflowing toilet. There was the frat house, the floor of which was covered entirely in sand for their semi-annual "beach" party, pole dancing, same-sex make out sessions and...well, I could go on for quite some time.

Ah yes, the good old days.

Don't get me wrong...I had a very nice time last night. It was just...not like college.

Now, "out" typically means over-priced beers (2), some deep, meaningful conversation (5+) and a server almost always dressed in all black (1). Everyone has their shirt on, and no one (usually) vomits. I'm safe in bed by 10pm.

I don't know when the transition occured but I think it has something to do with having to get up at 6am and not being able to sleep through work like I did through class.

My most exciting weekend plans used to involve keg stands (3), hook-ups (I'll be conservative and say 3), kegs and eggs (2) and perhaps some quality time at the library (-4).

Now well...I'm getting up at 7am tomorrow morning to get mud flaps put on the car (chilling), getting my haircut at 11am (much needed), then running errands, after which I'll drive to a friend's house where we will make dinner and watch movies and I'll probably be asleep by 11pm, at the latest.

I never thought I'd say this, but I really miss college.

Taxachusetts

I don't understand. Why do I have to pay tax on a car that I already bought, paid for AND paid the sales tax on? WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY?

It hasn't made me angry before because I've never bought a new car. But it makes me angry now...especially because an extra $315 is not something that I have kicking around. I mean...I HAVE it, but I really don't want to reliquenish it. Especially to this state, and especially because I ALREADY PAID THE FUCKING TAX.

In other not so good news, I don't start my new position for just over a month. The politics in this company kill me......until then, I've been told to "Give 100%!!"

And I ask "Why wouldn't I??" Didn't I just get offered a position BECAUSE I give OVER 100%? Will I know just cross my arms and not perform my current job for the next month? Tempting, yes! Smart move? NO.

Seriously...Am I missing something? Am I actually "special" and no one has told me?

(I sincerely apologize for all of the caps...and I do understand that the last question is an easy target. But be kind...I beg you.)

I'm trying so hard not to imagine myself with red,beady eyes

With the warmer weather comes the desire to wear a bit less clothing. Unfortunately, the reflection off of my skin has already caused a few car accidents and one man to go blind. His name is Larry. He's nice.

Something must be done.

I struggle with this every year. I don't like tanning and the thought of self tanner just seems so disastrous, despite the new advancements. Or may it's that I really don't care...and I'm lazy. I'd much rather through on SPF 8 and bake myself by the pool. That just sounds so much more relaxing and wholesome. Doesn't it?

What I do know is that in past years when I've gone down to FL in the spring, I have definitely offended some senior citizens with the color of my skin. But at least I could establish a base before anyone up here could see my legs.

My skin is green under these lights, I swear. And no one likes to see that. Or my super blue leg veins. Damn my Polish blood!!

(shakes fist in the air)

FUCK YES!!

well well well.
Yee of little faith.

I got the job.

I GOT THE JOB!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I feel microscopic

Blahhh!

BLAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!

Still no decision, on any front. BUT, there are some developments.

Interview number four is tomorrow. My would-be-Boss has decided that he just really wants to make sure he's making the right decision...apparently. He's coming here to watch me do my job...the same job I would be doing there...but kind of different. It will be for about two hours, which is fine. I'm preparing, making sure I'm organized and look like I know what's up.

Honestly, I've lost my will. I'm about ready to spit in his face and tell him to take this fucking job and shove it.

Alas, I think that would be a setback. So I'll refrain.

But in the land of extremely good news (thankfully!), Sexy Mama has retained permanent employment and we are just so proud of her. But we knew it would happen. I mean...duh!

In the land of random news, due to burning the candle at both ends, I will smell like ham most of the day on Thursday. Go ahead and guess why...

Just like the end of Old Yeller

Bring in the WAAAAAAAAAHmulance, my people. I'm in a shitty mood.

Private Sector Technology Company, in conjuction with Successful Recruiting Firm #1, has decided that they will make me wait another week to tell me whether or not I have the job.

I'm not happy. If I'm not what you think you need, just fucking tell me and I'll move on and figure out what the hell I'm supposed to do next.

What little respect I had left (and it's a VERY little bit) for this whole shitcan is dissipating...and quickly.

Added to that, Elaine has just relayed to me that she is VERY proud of herself for actually remembering to attach files to appropriate pages in our database. Wow...that's impressive. Especially since my seven year old neice has been doing that for about a year and a half now.

Private Sector Technology Company, You Crazy!

No news, for some reason, does not feel like good news.

I continue to await the decision...

Standby.

I hope I lose weight from all this sweating

It hasn't been the best day. I came in this morning ready to go and started off well. My very arduous and singular task for this week was almost complete: I was on the home stretch!

Then the unthinkable happened:

I spilled hot chocolate ALL OVER MY DESK. Not only did it get in my keyboard, on my mouse pad and soak my wrist rest, but it got all over ME and my favorite blazer...which happens to be white stripped. I'll beg the dry cleaner to erase the damage. I'll pay extra. This is the best $12.97 blazer I've ever had in my entire existence. Or only. Whichever.

The majority of the liquid ended up on the pile of papers that I have been working from all week (see reference to "arduous task" above) and therefore I had to reprint all that crap out and re-highlight in my special secret code and...

Needless to say, this made me real cranky. Toxic cranky. Not a place anyone likes to visit.

So, that happened.

I'm better now, but it was quite the rough patch. Thank god for Dunkin' Donuts and sunlight.

In other news, I should hear about the new (but not really) job on Monday or Tuesday. I'm already preparing myself for NOT getting it and I'm also preparing myself for the idea that I may be stuck here for a while longer. These are not happy thoughts. BUT, things happen for a reason.

Right?

What I need is what I've not got

Damn, people!

I'm a big ball of stress and nerves and bitchiness. Count yourself as one of the lucky ones if you don't have to see me, talk to me or in general "deal" with me for the rest of this week. If, however, you are one that does talk to me or see me on a regular basis well...don't say I didn't warn you and please don't give me crap about it.

I can't help it. I constantly feel like I'm going to throw up.

Why, you ask?

Well, let me just friggin' TELL YOU.

1. I had a second interview for a great position within the company that I currently work for. This would be a transfer and I would technically be doing the same thing that I do now, just in a different capacity and in a different environment. More work? Hell yes...try four times more. No more blog entries like, ever. Better, less annoying and much less crappy job? Hell yes. More money? Who the hell knows. Your guess is as good as mine. Even though I already work here, I still have to go through an extensive interview process. What I have left is what I thought would be a phone interview with who would be my bosses boss, but is now an IN PERSON interview. This means I go back for a THIRD time. Yes folks, I already work here and I have a THIRD interview.

Do I have the job or not? My background and what I can bring to the job is what they are looking for. The commute is shorter. The situation is better. Will I be working 60 hours a week for the first 4 months? Most likely, yes. Will I care? Well...let's cross that bridge when I come to it, eh? It may be a non-issue. I may have to rot here.

2. I need THE FUCK OUT OF HERE. Elaine is driving me NUTS. She was actually talking to me today about emails that had been sent last week as if she had received them today, as if it wasn't news to everyone else except her. Shut up you ninny!

3. Nick is waiting to here back on an offer for a job he interviewed for yesterday. I can't stand all this anticipation!!!!

Thank god The Idol is on tonight and I can get completely absorbed in that.

And thank god for The Little One, Sexy Mama and The Phat Physical Trainer (I know I know...I couldn't think of anything better).

In Loving Memory

My grandmother passed away yesterday very suddenly. My family is working through the unexpectedness and ironing out the details today. I've decided to stay home and write a little something about her.

My grandmother was totally cool. She was sassy, loud-mouthed and almost never without an opinion. I will miss her so much for making me laugh with her outrageous comments, and for making any family function where she was present that much more hilarious. She will be missed and I am so sad that I'll never get to laugh with her again.

The last time I saw her was in the fall on Cape Cod. She came over to my parent's house for dinner and to meet my new boyfriend. She brought her own Scotch with her (of course!) and told us all about her most recent trip to the movie theater to see Capote, which she thought was an amazing film. She very much liked my new boyfriend and said this to me before she left for the night: "Make sure you tell me right after you get engaged to this one because I need to go out and buy a new dress. He's a very nice young man."

It makes me smile and cry at the same time now.

Grandma Ruth, may you make everyone, wherever you are, laugh all day, everyday. I love you very much.

Nap Integration

I ate more food than any human should in one sitting at lunch this afternoon. It was an amazing experience.

But now I need a nap.

And why shouldn't we all be allowed to nap during the day? They let kindergartners do it...why not grown adults? I can bring in a pilates mat and a blanket and curl up on the floor with the best of them. Hell, I'll even change into my pajamas for the occasion. We need to recharge just as much (if not more) than those little brats do. It just isn't fair.

I read somewhere at some point that everyone would be in a better mood if we all took naps. I don't remember when or where but it just had to be true.

I can't wait to take off my pants.

That little shit...

Greetings from the great world of commerce!

While there are some entertaining/soul crushing things going on here in the ole office, there are other, much more important issues to discuss. Namely...Kevin Covais. At first I liked little Kevin. I liked his effortless charm and his super old parents. I liked that he's not popular in high school and I like that he may have stopped growing. I also enjoyed the first two or three times he referred to himself as a "sex symbol." It was endearing.

What I don't like are the fourth through twenty times that he referred to himself as a sex symbol, his dead on impersonation of Fievel from An American Tail or his cocky, hardass attitude toward someone who may know just a *little* more about his singing ability than he does.

I will also ALWAYS side with Simon. Always. The man is a fucking genuis.

And now:
The Workplace Entertainment aka The Romper Room.

Elaine looks as if she has just gone through about 48 hours of herione detox and, conversely, has just come head on with a fast moving locomotive. Her desk is a complete mess and I think I can actually see her brain bouncing around in her head. The woman could make holding her head in her hands a national sport. Poor thing! I feel bad but...then again, I really don't.

Shit...I need to do some work.

Duff Man

I saw Ryan Seacrest interviewing Hilary Duff on E! this morning while burning off some stomach fat at the gym. No, I did not go to work today. Or yesterday. But I suppose I will return tomorrow. I came down with a "stomach flu" over the weekend which very much robbed me of my energy and my will to live, let alone return to work. "Elaine" has called me twice now "just to talk and check up on me" and tell me how "dead" it is in the office. Why? Why can't she just leave me the fuck alone? I've been vomitting and shitting out my insides all weekend, haven't I? Can't I get a fuckin' break?

I digress.

Ms. Duff looks as if she has starved herself beyond recognition and, in addition, looks as if she is preparing for a sex change operation. She is so skinny that her chest and cheeks are concave. The entire time Seacrest was showing her around his new E! digs, she had her arms across her chest as if she didn't want anyone to see that she has transformed into a very masculine looking skeleton. She also looked like she hadn't eaten in days, a sort of shuffling of the feet feeling that reminds me of Paris Hilton. As in..."Look, the only thing I've eaten today is a tub of no fat cottage cheese and a Grande skim latte from Starbucks and I'm just fucking tired and there is no way I am picking my feet completely off the ground when I walk."

This gave me an idea. I would be more than willing to help Ms. Duff with her obvious and awkward problem by donating some of the weight that I gained during the holidays that I have yet to lose. In my mind, this offers the perfect solution: Hilary gets to look like a real live girl again and I get to look skinny! It's PERFECT! I don't know why I didn't think of this before.

In other news:
Some sucker who works in a different part of my company has applied for the now open management position in my location. He's coming to "observe" on Thursday, which really means to coming to see for himself what a suckfest it is. Instead of looking at this and being pissed off and shaking my fist in the air, I have decided to approach the whole thing with gusto. My therapist told me something to keep telling myself: Keep doing the stuff you are doing and let the other two dig their own graves. Well, I may have paraphrased but the gist is still there. While it is terribly draining and difficult to attend work these days, I still have to go, face the music and be a big girl about the whole thing. I can't have a stomach flu forever...but long term disability is tempting.

There is another internal opening that I'm not really qualified for, but desparate times call for desparate measures. I just have to wait for the right time to bring it up...to my soon-to-be-determined manager.

#3

My co-worker, Elaine*, asked me what was bothering me today.

My outloud response: "I'm just tired."

My inloud response: "I fucking hate you, that's what's bothering me. You should have been the one fired, you should have been the one punished. And I hate how you suck up to people and I hate how fake you are. I hate how you think you have it all figured out. I hate how you make me give you high fives when there is nothing really that has happened to warrant a high five. I just fucking hate my job and everything involved in it right now. And I hate that I can't quit because I'm too fucking safe and because I care too much about what I've started. And as far as I'm concerned, it's all your fault because you were the one who told them to hire me. THANKS."

I don't really hate Elaine, I promise. Elaine just gets under my skin because she places blame where it should not be placed and because she is very inconsistent with her behavior. Inconsistency, in case you haven't noticed, is one of the things that makes my blood boil. I've had to deal with too much of it in my personal life. We work here, we get paid to be here so do your fucking job. I should be able to depend on her. Alas, I cannot. And that's why I'm so pissed off.

I like my new boss, but I wish she would unconditionally see things my way and make changes accordingly. I wish she would take me away from this place.

Elaine, before leaving the office, wished me a nice weekend and then added "I hope that things get better for you."

I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from telling her that things would be WAY better if a) she actually started doing her job and stopped being such a fake fuck or 2) she would quit and go away forever.

You wouldn't know it was Friday. Or that I really wasn't a bitch in the above situation.




*Real names have been changed to protect me.

Oh And...

Because I'm such a fucking genius, I can now post my heart away at work. I've found a work around. And I'm streaming live music which I should not technically be able to do.

So...

I have that going for me.

One of the few things.

You know that feeling you get when you think of have a stray hair or something on your face or in your mouth and it drives you crazy so you either dig around in your mouth to find it or grab empty air around your face to try and get rid of it because this phantom hair is driving you NUTTY?

Well, I have one of those on my face, right under my eye and I can't seem to get rid of it. It must have something to do with my subconsious. My hair isn't even long enough to being hanging in my face.

I want to go outside.

A new level of Bloat

That's with a capital "B."

My body has officially told me to fuck off. I've taken to going back to the gym this past week and have gained (yes, GAINED) weight. I'm thinking it's my body telling me that I've put it under too much stress, that all the crap I'm internalizing has resulted in a very pregnant looking belly.

I need some assistance. Or maybe a needle to pop myself...who knows.

Is that gross?

In other news...

I did not succeed in making US Airways my bitch. Actually, I think at this point they have made me their bitch. Short of hiring a lawyer and spending money I don't have and will most likely never see again, I've given it my all. And shouldn't that count for something?

Yep, it sure does!

$122.64

Just...

....Fuck.

I was looking for Pleasure Town and this is the shit I found

I wrote this earlier today while at work BUT the COMPANY has now blocked my ability to post in my blog (the nerve) so I had to email myself what I wrote (I didn't lose it!) and re-post here. See what I do for you? SEE?!?!?

I had every good intention of writing over the weekend and replying to all of your comments. Alas, this did not occur. And now that I am here (well at work, but still) and trying to respond to your comments, I learn that, in the true spirit of this company, they have blocked access to my blog. Yet ironically enough, I can still access blogger (the root of the blog) and my hotmail. Great. But I've read them all and thank you and all that. And yes, Kristin, I did get the picture of the geese that you sent me in the mail and I peed myself a little when I opened it.

I'll be honest and say I'm not doing all that well today. The morale here in the ole office is very low. There were tears this morning (not from me). We are all pissed off, if to different degrees. We are all confused and completely overwhelmed and not able to focus. As Nick would say (bless his heart), I am steadily trotting along the road to Negative Town and trying with all my might to turn around. But this cloud has no silver lining. This whole thing just plain sucks. And I'm stuck here, at least for now.

That said, I'll do my best to make the best of an otherwise uncomfortable and dreadful situation. I've put out on the table all of my honest and forthright thoughts about the situation and I have no regrets. I have joined another gym in order to work out some of my aggression and get out of my apartment (I got a pretty good deal, too). The money situation, for now, looks less bleak and my lesbian hairdo is starting to progress into the fierce stages (even if not on this particular day).

I'm also pretty pissed that Crash won Best Picture last night. Clearly the Academy is made up of a bunch of pussies. Now, Crash was a good picture, but Brokeback Mountain was an amazing picture, regardless of your thoughts on the subject matter. I went to bed at 10pm because the montages were getting to me and even Jon Stewart's valiant attempts at humor could in no way keep me entertained.

Fuckin' Academy.

There is entirely too much

Oh ladies and gents!

What a week it has been...WHAT A WEEK IT HAS BEEN.

There is not possibly enough time for me to write in full about everything that has occured. Partially because I'm at work and partially because I just plain don't have the energy.

I will start with the important things first.

1. THE IDOL. This week, the ladies were, for the most part, a complete suckfest. The gentleman were quite a bit better. My early favorites: Katherine, The Pickler, Mr. Dashing Dantry and Elliott. Do I have predications yet? NO. Are there contestants that I wish I could vote off? Yes. One. And her name is The Bitch that is Brenna. From hence forth, she is BTIB, The Bitch, or, if I'm lazy...Brenna. Results are tonight and boy do I have tunnel vision.

2. The Boyfriend Status. My man is doing much better. He has an interview tomorrow. I love him more than I ever have. Through everything, he is my rock and I am his. I cannot wait to officially start my life with him. Sure, we fight. Sure we disagree on many things. But I just can't picture a day in my life without him. (barfing noises are acceptable if you need them to be).

3. My sister. No, I haven't quite spoken to her in length just yet. Sure, it upsets me a bit BUT bottom line: She's my sister, I love her and we will always have each other no matter what. We have the tragedy that is our mother in common. Maybe a bit of a break from each other's drama is what we need.

4. My J-O-B. I have to keep this vague because I would never want to risk my professional career because of my blog. It has happened to some good people. It has also happened and then made life better for those people. I'd rather not take the risk. A sketchy summary: my boss was fired yesterday and the way I have known my job to be has ONCE AGAIN completely changed from what it was before. Let's take an assessment: This will be about the fourth time in 7 months. I still believe in what I do and I still want to maintain my professionalism. But I'm pissed off and I'm not keeping that a secret. Karma better be a BIG FUCKING BITCH in this case.

Some shout outs:
Pretty Miss: Congrats on the new job! I wanted to make my good wishes to you official. And I love you to pieces.
Sexy Mama: You are a beautiful woman and an amazing friend. You're not alone and you can talk to me WHENEVER. Smooches and HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY!!!!!!
Cousin Tiara: Congrats on your new job as well! Nick has already asked about free, limited edition Star Wars toys. Just throwing that out there.
MC: We need to hang out. Especially since you now live back at home. You must be maddened.
Cuz over the Sea: Uhm...someone asks me for a HUGE LONG EMAIL because she said she would kill me if I didn't write one to her and I get NOTHING. What the fuck, dude?
M-Kizzle: You rock, you roll and you are the best boss this girl has ever had (and I had EIGHT at that other company alone).
My surrogate mom and my surrogate bro: I miss you both SO much. I know I'm lame about calling and getting together and I'm terribly sorry. Just know that I think of you both often.

If I've left anyone out, I'm a big asshole.

VERY IMPORTANT AND URGENT NEWS BULLETIN

After almost a year of stress, blood, sweat and tears, I have just gotten one of my two credit card balances down to ZERO.

ZEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERO.

So what if the other one is in the thousands? Want to start somethin' about it? Huh? HUH?

It's ZERO interest until August.

How DO...YOU...LIKE....THAT?

Wish me luck

Today I will reopen my can of whoop ass and make a final (maybe) attempt towards the ultimate goal of US Airways becoming my bitch.

Now my 5 year old niece has one up on me

My sister and I are giving each other the silent treatment. We got into a bit of a brawl over some stupid family crap (actually a dinner that I would have very much wanted to attend) and neither of us has made any sort of move to apologize. That's probably because we are both very stubborn and hard-headed. It's also because neither of us think we did anything wrong. So...there's that.

In other news, I've started being interested in wearing earrings again. I had a large collection when I was about 13 and frequently wore small bobbles that were age and time appropriate. But I've gotten rid of a lot of that, for obvious reasons. Now I'm thinking with this new hairstyle, some dangly and stylish earrings may be just the ticket.

That said, I bought a pair yesterday (starting out small) and have worn them...and I think I'm allergic to them. That OR I basically had to re-pierce my ears this past weekend with another pair of earrings because (see above) it's been a while since I've worn them. Meanwhile...Audrey (my firecracker toddler of a niece) has recently taken her original studs out of her ears and is now experimenting as well. So starts the reversion back to my tumultuous childhood.

Sorry. I'll try harder next time.

Something that makes you want your mommy

And that something is my PMS wrath.

The bloating combined with the sudden, frequent and passing urge to cry, as well as this being my first period off the pill (oh, such a long story) is making for quite the storm below the belt.

GOOD LORD.

What on earth did I do to deserve this?

Don't look at me, don't touch me and certainly, if you know what is good for you, DO NOT engage me in conversation.

(So I really hope it is actually PMS and not me losing my mind.)

The Mantra

This is where I give myself a pep talk...about everything.

Stay positive. All of this hard, emotionally gruelly work will pay off in the end. It WILL bring a rewarding, happy life.

IT WILL.

Get out of that computer chair and work out. You know that if you don't do it now, you will be no good to anyone, especially yourself. And considering the trip to Georgia you will take later today and everything that goes along with trying to single handedly pull your boyfriend out of his severe depression and downward spiral due to a recent series of extremely unfortunate events, you'll need all of the good feelings and self confidence that you can get.

Afterall, you didn't have to go to work today. You decided that you needed a day off. And what should you do on your day off? You should do nothing but nice things for yourself. All nice things!! NICE THINGS.

I will not let the current size of pants grow by number in any way and I will NOT give into negativity.

This too shall pass.

Yes! Good job! (pats self on the back)

Same shit, different shovel

This, my fine friends, is my new favorite -ism.

Perhaps I should start an "-Ism of the Month."

Or not. I've gotten increasingly lazy when it comes to anything extra-curricular. I don't have the energy.

My sister told me last night that she is "concerned" about me. Apparently she "hasn't heard enough" from me lately and thinks I'm becoming a "workaholic." I tried to explain to her what was involved and why I don't have a choice when I stay at the office until 8 at night, but she didn't seem to listen or understand. Alas, I understand her frustration. If only Nameless Successful Staffing Company #1 had an iota of sympathy. But they don't. So that's that.

I'm off to ATL tomorrow afternoon for a weekend with my long lost boyfriend. I feel like he's been away at war or something. He hasn't....it's just that airline tickets are fucking expensive and I can't afford to be purchashing them frequently and either can he. Wish me luck in getting to meet USHER.

What else?

The Steelers win Super Bowl XL!

In case you didn't already know.

And is it me, or are Roman Numerals severly underused? I hope I'm not alone in thinking, for just about two seconds, that the XL meant extra large.

Or am I?

This Bud's [commerical] for you

I've never paid so much attention to a Super Bowl in my entire life. And it isn't because of the commercials.

I know the players. I have some real stock in the game. My emotions are fully involved. Or as fully as emotions can be involved by a woman who hates (yes hates) football.

I think I've lost my mind, but hear me out:
I really do think that if the Steelers win this game, it means so much more than the Vince trophie thingie.

You with me so far?

Are you?? ARE YOU??

The overabundance of the color yellow has clearly effected my brain function.

GO STEELERS!!

Oh shit.

Yeah...THAT kind of lawyer

{To be filed under the category of "Why ME?"}

The US Airways saga continues. And I get closer and closer to blowing my stack.

Yesterday I was overjoyed when what looked like a check from US Airways had arrived in the mail.

Could it be?? Could they have actually sent me some of the money that they owe me? For true?

I'm so naive...apparently.

Yes, there was an envelope in the check. And yes it was the amount needed to cover the expenses incured while I was without my luggage that fateful weekend early last December. Yippee! Right?!?!?

What was also included in the envelope was a letter including the following excerpt:

Unfortunately, as outlined in the US Airways' Terms of Transportation, US Airways assumes no liability for missing photographic equipment. Such matters, however, are reported to our Security Department for appropriate investigation.

Doesn't that just RULE? This would have been VERY helpful information TWO MONTHS AGO.

There is also some shit stamped on the back of the check that is hardly readable but basically states that if I sign the check to cash it, I give up any and all right to claim against them again. So I can't even turn that fucker into cash. And, let me also state that I could really use an extra $120 right now.

That tightness in my chest is happening again.

I am already on the quest to hire a sleazy lawyer. Any and all (helpful) suggestions are always welcome.

Facing the corner of my office with a dunce cap on

Anonymous has schooled me once again.

I need to get back to my roots.

Once The Idol gets into the top 12 is when the fun really starts.

But let me first start by saying I am very much looking forward to the Boston Auditions. The accents, the big hair, and the serious presence of 90's fashion is all highly anticipated. Tuesday at 8/7 Central has been put aside.

Cell phone off.

Door closed.

Pajamas on.

I'm not kidding around here.

I made you say Under-Where

I have worked a combined 30 hours in the last two days. I'm not really tired, which is suprising. But then again, all I have done is gone to work, gone home, and, fairly immediately, gone to bed.

So I thought I was managing pretty well.

That was until I ran to the bathroom this morning to get rid of half of the morning coffee and realized that my underwear were inside out.

And backwards.

And a thong.

I remain perplexed as to why it took a visual to bring me to these realizations.

What does it take to get some attention around here

Greetings!

I read a few posts back and I'd like to apologize for being such a bummer lately.

I'm sure you all understand. And if you don't, well...fuck off then.

That said, I've made some changes up in herreeee. One of the changes was made a shor t time ago and no one has said a WORD. Hello?? Anyone out there? Does anyone care?

You've all given up on me, haven't you? HAVEN'T YOU?

I'm obviously an attention hog. If you weren't humoring that, you wouldn't be reading.

So you better notice today's change and say nice things.

(Please)

I don't know how they expect me to live like this

Ugh.

Another payday, another two weeks without money until the next payday. I smell a vicious cycle.

Since I've decided to stop complaining and feeling sorry for myself about the OTHER thing, I've moved onto complaining about money.

I don't have any.

In fact, I have even less now than I have ever had. Add to that, I have credit card debt. It isn't an insane amount, but it's there, hanging over my head and waiting to start collecting interest. I have until August to pay it off and it just isn't going to happen. So oh well, right? It's just money.

How does this happen? How am I making all this money and yet I still have none? What sick bastard came up with this plan?

Here's the rub: The more money you make, the more money you spend. It isn't something that happens on purpose. It sneaks up on you and all of a sudden, the largest amount of money you have ever earned up until this point in your life leaves your checking account as swiftly and quietly as it enters.

I started doing my taxes today. I love tax season. I love how everyone else is moaning and groaning and in a panic and I'm patiently awaiting that last 1098 so that I can get right to it. Perhaps this is because I have never actually had to pay taxes. And I'm fairly certain that I have yet to break any laws (fingers crossed). I like getting money back, so I claim the least amount that I can. Now, I'm not naive. I know that this will get much more complicated as I get older and I will slowly become one of the moaners and groaners and develop to the point where I pay someone else to do my taxes for me. BUT...until that day, bring on the refunds, baby!! I've done the rough math and it looks like a nice chunk of change is coming my way. Shhh...don't jinx it!!!

I probably shouldn't be talking about taxes in my blog. But whatever.

The reason I have money on the brain is firstly because I've paid all of my bills and I now have about .50 to live off of until the next time I get paid. But ALSO because we had somewhat of a family meeting today and I realized that, one fine day, there could be a whole lot of money coming to me. And the best part?? No one has to die!!! Isn't that fantastic?

But it will be a while. There is little to do about it right now, except to keep enjoying the new car smell and to continue to buy the generic Q-tips.

I suppose this is good news

I have a new primary care, Dr. Z, who is very nice and very thorough. She hooked me up with a neurologist this past Tuesday who sent me for MRI's (brain and neck) yesterday. The results are in and apparently there isn't a scratch on them. While this is fan-friggin-tastic news, it still doesn't help me to explain these symptoms that I'm still experiencing.

I'll go back to the neurologist (Dr. L) next week for "next steps." Some drugs had best be Step 1.

In the land of other news:
My job is still borderline skull-crushing and my boyfriend seems to have had some sort of mini-breakdown which I feel responsible for.

Oh yeah...I'm great.

She might as well be Dr. Pepper

Hello from the land of self-pity!

But really...I'm doing a whole hell of a lot better. With the support from family, friends and my amazing boy toy, I think I'll make it.

I know I sounded like a big HUGE baby last week so I told myself to shut up and stop being so fucking lame. So what if my left arm still feels pretty funny? I can still use it (for the most part). And so what if my job still rots? It's only temporary (hopefully). And so what if I won't see my boyfriend for another month? Isn't fondness supposed to make the heart grow stronger? (What does that even mean?)

Let's embrace this new year and focus on the positive, shall we? Taking control of the things I have the power to change. And having a fantastic sense of humor...and a wonderful support system (and I'm not talking about Victoria's Secret Body Bras).

That said, tomorrow I begin the quest to change my primary care physician (PCP to those familiar with the lingo) because she 1) sucks and 2) might as well be in Guam. I've had enough with her apathy and rushed visits. She makes enough money to at least pretend she has a heart.

And no...I don't have multiple personality disorder.

Yet.

Dearest Friends

Apparently my coping mechanisms have failed me. I've gotten myself into a place where I get so worked up about who knows what that I end up in the hospital because I can't use my left arm.

It's not my heart and it's not my brain. I'm just...crazy.

I'd love to have happy and unlifting news. And when I do, you'll be the first to know.

For now, I need to work on doing a better job of being a grown up. Wish me luck.

I promise it isn't for lack of trying

I wish I could report some uplifting news. I really do. I've been sitting here, trying to squeeze it out with the best of my ability. I've closed my eyes tightly and listened to relaxing music. I'm sipping chamomile tea. I may enjoy a mug of warm milk later. I've tried to visualize a sunny beach and inviting ocean water. I've done deep breathing. I've perfected my downward dog. I know my peace animal (Boston Terrier) all too well. I've crossed several tasks off of my to do list. I've written some emails to close friends. I've called my sister. I've watched hours of wonderfully mind-numbing television.

Nothing is working.

Lola, however, honks her hello.

Happy New Year?

I think I've gotten old. Only because I couldn't even stay up until 10pm last night, let alone midnight. Added to the fact that Nick and I were going to buy booze and party like rock stars here on the 6th floor but alas, we just didn't. I think we are both so exhausted from the past couple of weeks. It's nice to do nothing. And since he doesn't mind me lazing around his apartment in my best sweats for days on end, I guess that's just fine with me, too.

I don't have much news to report. Luckily, my luggage made it to Atlanta this time. I flew Delta, which is a very nice airline. Not that they had to try very hard to impress me.

I'm at Nick's right now, waiting for him to come back from the airport with a very adorable 4 year old. I haven't left the apartment today which I think is just fine but still feels weird.

I hope he remembers to bring me back that chocolate chip ice cream.

She was a show girl, now she's a Corolla

Greetings from the world of....(hear in head sound of Rob the Announcer from The Price is Right)...A NEW CAR!

That's right, folks. I bought a brandie spankin' new car. Her name is Lola and she is a lovely shade of midnight blue.

I was rather panicked this morning. And let me tell you why.

Chariot (may she rest in peace) was really a mess. Needed about $600 or more worth of work done to her. I had to put her down. It was the best for both of us. But that left me without a car, over a long weekend. Enterprise gave me a rather pathetic excuse for a rental it seemed as if no one wanted to give me a deal. I gave up on the pipe dream of a new Honda because I knew no one would give it to me at a price I could afford (which is not very much). So, I swallowed my pride (for the millionth time this week) and Nick, bless his heart, suggested the Corolla. I made some calls this morning, found a guy who was willing to work with my numbers and, about 4 hours later, I drove away in...A NEW CAR!!

In the end, it was all so simple.

Lola now has a whole 58 miles on her and boy does she purr like a kitten.

Merry Christmas to me!!

(and to you, of course)

Just my luck

I was on my way to purchase a new car yesterday, and my car completely died.

Unfortunately, the new car deal fell through.

So, I have no car and I'm driving a Chevy Colorado that I actually have to pay for.

Fuck.

Yoga calling...she must answer

Although I would so much rather eat pretzels and watch The Simpsons, I really need to get my exercise in. I'm very stiff from all this stress. So this will be brief.

I did not get laid off today. No one did...yet. That's all I have to say.

Again, thank you all for reading and thank you for your support.

And that's not sarcasm. I swear.

I don't want to talk about it

Well, more bad news has come down the pipeline. And it's almost worse that it has happened to someone who I love dearly and not myself. The one day where nothing had gone terribly wrong did, eventually, have to come to an end.

An unfortunate course of events had led to an extremely unfortunate result: The Nickster will be home alone on Christmas...in Atlanta of all places. This is sad on many fronts although it is unnecessary for me to go into great detail.

However, in a very generous and thoughtful turn of events, my sister and brother in law (ever the martyrs) have offered to do as much as is in their power to get Nick here to Boston (kind of) for Christmas. The likelihood of this actually coming to fruition is slim to none due to lack of funds etc. But in this case, it really is the thought that counts. I am certainly lucky to have them.

In other news, I will receive an update about my current employment today. In case I forgot to mention, one of the four ladies in my office (no one is safe) is being let go at an unspecified time in the future. Apparently the forces that be have a "creative idea."

Oh goody goody.

Do they know it's Christmas time at all?

It sure as hell doesn't feel like the happiest time of the year.

My poor sister. She has been through so much this year and here she is trying to cheer me up and making sure I haven't fallen right off the deep end. Bitching to her about the medical bill and parking tickets I've received in the last two days (both of which are due to someone not doing their job) just made me feel worse instead of better. She still doesn't have all of the feeling in her leg from the dog bite and post-bite surgeries. And I'm complaining about a digital camera that I'll never get back, one I've had for over a year and still hadn't taken the initiative to really learn how to use it.

Christmas is a week from today. It's about time I get my head out of my ass, stop feeling sorry for myself and get in the fucking spirit of the season.

Now where are those god damn Christmas CD's?

And the shit storm continues

I don't mean to complain. I'm usually not one to just throw my hands up in the air and feel sorry for myself. And if I do, it isn't for too long. I get over it and then spring into action.

However, there must be someone out there with a voodoo doll having a grand old time. There are obviously certain things that are beyond my control.

What I can say is that there must be something reeeeally good coming. Really, there has to be.

Maybe someone bought me a $100,000 bill for Christmas.

Dear Massport and Logan International Airport,

Fuck you, too.

Thanks for almost killing me because you are completely incompetent and unable to clear 6 inches of snow and slush from your roadways.

Thank you also for closing the airport as I was pulling up to it after a 2 hour drive in the blizzard of the century.

And a special thank you to the police officer who abandonded his car and was a complete waste of space in helping anyone with getting their cars unstuck. And a special air kiss for the other police officer that yelled at me for trying to park in economy and threatened to issue me a ticket for disobeying his traffic direction.

Extra special thanks to Massport's parking office in Logan International Airport who have taken all of my money for a parking spot that I was forced to take.

You guys fucking rule.

Thanks...really.

Dear US Airways,

Fuck you.

Not only did you force me to gate check my bag after a harrowing (understatement of the year) day of New England weather, but then you lost my bag and then, while the bag was somewhere in the black hole that is your baggage claim system, SOMEONE went through my bag, unfolded all of my clothes, then shoved them back in haphazardly.

Oh and that someone also STOLE MY DIGITAL CAMERA AND ALL OF MY PICTURES.

Oh and yes. Heaven forbid I forget the blatant disregard for my welfare or the welfare of my belongings.

I have yet to deal with anyone within your pathetic organization who has shown a shred of remorse or apathy, nor have been formally apologized to or told exactly what happened to my camera.

But have I been patronized, eternally put on hold, or made to feel like this was all my fault? Why YES. All of the above.

Go fuck yourself. And fuck your mother.

Sincerely,
Fucking Pissed Off

I'm watching a tribute to Tom Petty, which means hell has frozen over and yes...there's the monkey flying right out of my ass

I'm sorry.

But not really.

I don't like Tom Petty. Actually, I hate Tom Petty. And I don't care if you like him. You liking him, whoever you are (and you know who you are) will never convince me to like him, so don't try. Just don't.

I'm not sure how the Billboard Music Awards is even on my television. I'm fairly sure that since I rarely change the channel from Fox, I just didn't notice when the Simpsons ended and this shit began.

Who ARE these people? And what is Gwen wearing in her hair?? I'm really sick of her trying to make a fashion statement, doing something NEW and FRESH every time she goes out in public. Enough. Just dress fuckin normal. It's not a good thing when the best dressed people at an awards show are the members of Green Day and even MARIAH looks good for fuck's sake.

There is only one explanation.

The world has fallen off of its planetary rotation.

Or not. Because Petty is still really ugly. And this is just depressing me. That that ugly son of a bitch is a bazillionare and I'm not.

Fuck.

Well, you got me. It's not Tom Petty's fault. I'm sure he's a really nice guy (even if he is really ugly) and I'm sure he deserves his award.

I'm pissed off for other reasons. I'm fat, I'm frustrated and I can't turn my head all the way to the right. And the last thing is making the first two worse, which is just leading to a vicious, self-loathing cycle.

And Nick doesn't feel good, either.

And no one bought me a pony for my birthday.