Annoying the world... one person at a time

So, I was supposed to go home this weekend and for various reasons, it just didn't pan out. Considering it was for Gram's birthday, I'm not hip to the outcome of that situation. The new girl at work called off yet again, which makes 5 times (or more) in the four weeks she's worked there. Pretty soon, it's going to be 'The LiVEwiRe Show' at work. Multiple personality disorder is something I have not been afflicted with thus far, yet this little work situation could change that if I am expected to be all people at all times. Somehow these things weren't enough to get my panties in a bunch, so I decided that I would take a little trip to WalMart after work; self-inflicted pain, if you will. Yes, me who doesn't like shopping went shopping at one in the morning. I will say that it's one hell of an empty store at that time, which is definitely to my liking. Anyway, here's the point of this rambling. I bought three pairs of jeans in a size that I haven't worn since my earlier years of high school. I'm so tempted to divulge the size because it makes me really happy, not to mention that I still have a 'deer in headlights' gaze because I never dreamed I'd be buying that size today, but I'm a girl. Girls don't like to reveal sizes and such; it's a touchy subject. But for a moment, I'm happy... and I don't get to use those words too often. Lately, me + happy = does not compute... so I'm just content to relish the moment for now. There's plenty of time to be cranky later. Oh, and I bought a t-shirt. Wanna know what it says? Read the title of this post! ;)

Chez Camry and some birthday words (no, not for the car)

Although I have no idea what I'm going to say (lots of partial thoughts), today was a red letter day in one respect. Remember how I was all worried about my car, well mainly the gas leak, and was considering {gasp} getting a different car? She had her checkup today (headlights to tailpipe) and I instructed them to find every possible thing wrong that they could. They must have been in their glory to hear that phrase! Anyway, turns out the worst is the gas leak, which they instructed me to fix pronto, and a power steering belt. Seriously, the rest of the things they found were not safety issues and it won't be a problem to let them slide for a while. This is exceptionally cool news. The best part about it is that the shop she went to is owned by the people I petsit for (in that gorgeous house with the Ferrari...) and we've known each other for something like eight years. They trust me with their furry 'kids', so I trust them with my car. So, the gas leak will be getting fixed within a week most likely and I will no longer have to be high on gas fumes nor fear a fossil fuel induced version of spontaneous combustion. Long live Chez Camry!!!

Also, today was my supervisor's last day. Next Friday, our acting Director leaves. Everyone was in shock, but I knew because both had talked to me about their respective resignations. Funny thing... we are slated to lose another Pharmacist in a month. He told the acting Director (that is leaving in a week) and other than her, I'm the only one who knows. Apparently I come across as someone who can keep their mouth shut when it really counts; which I am. Well, barring this blabbing on the internet portion of it... He will be one of the people I miss, but by my calculations, I won't be there much longer after he goes. I'm telling you, it's like rats jumping ship.

Today is my Gram's 85th birthday... and I won't be there. I don't like that one bit. I'll call her, of course, but it's just not the same. I'm realizing how hard it is to be away from them especially at times like these. Don't get me wrong... if I were there, I'm certain we'd all annoy the hell out of one another, but it's such a strange feeling. I would always do silly things for her birthday like buy her tons of those instant lottery tickets and hide them around the house so when she picked up the phone, there was a ticket. Time for the Efferdent? Ticket. Toilet paper a bit scratchy? Yeah, ok, so that wasn't one of the better places to hide one, but you get the idea. None of us know how much time we have left, but age, by default, tends to make us focus on that. So, if I could tell her something now, what would it be? Hmmm.... let's try this.

'Happy Birthday' hardly seems enough on this special day. This day represents so much to me even though I know you aren't big into the celebration end of it. This day also represents a part of my life and my own birth in a way. I've always felt you were more of a parent to me than anything else. You never turned your back when I needed anything and took me in, often raising me as your own. To this day I hear when you slip and call Grandpa my 'dad' or 'father'. He was as much that as you are like a mother to me. You always try to catch yourself but I never correct you. There is nothing to correct. Being away from you is difficult, even though we are very different people. Even with our differences, I've never doubted the love you have for me and hope you know just how much you truly mean to me. You have molded my life in more ways than you can imagine. Thank you for making chances and opportunities for me where none had previously existed. I have no doubt that without you (and before, my Grandpa) my life would have taken a tragic turn long, long ago. So your birthday is truly a thing to celebrate for all that you have done. This was the day that you came into the world and many years later managed to keep me from fading out of it. Even when we make each other mad, I know that we have a bond that will never be broken. So Happy Birthday Gram, I love you and I will see you very soon. I really miss not being there with you now.

Yeah, it would go something like that. It bothers me to not be there. I feel like I'm letting her down or something. Which may be all in my head, but hey, at least I'm concerned. I'm still adjusting to not being around my family.

Then again, as things go, I may be around them again in a few months. Now that Chez Camry will be up and about (and hopefully not exploding) and I'm applying for jobs... who knows?

And with that, I'm outta here. I need sleep.

There's the rub.

So, today I took a little jaunt to the local convenience store for a frappuccino (gotta have something good in my life, right?) and was blasted by something I saw. I've seen this before, but today, the implications of what I saw really hit me...

Along Steuben Street (like you know or care where that is) there was a white haired, rumpled, dirty looking man sitting right on the curb with his feet on the road. He had a small mound of cigarette butts neatly piled next to him (to be saved for later) and a jar that he was dropping small, unknown objects into. His clothes were dirty from years worth of unmentionable stains and grime, not just a few days. At one point, his shirt may have been white. It mirrors the neglected house/apartment building that sits behind grossly overgrown shrubs where he always tends to be in close proximity of. I can always see his mouth moving and wonder what he is saying, and to whom is he saying it? This is a residential area; he neither begs nor bothers. He never has.

How do I know this? He was there, same scene, 15 years ago when I lived a few blocks down. Today when I saw him, I wondered what he was doing and why he was doing it. And why, after 15 years, is that damned jar not filled? But I digress. Today I realized in the most basic of ways, he and I are more alike than I might care to admit. Perhaps unbeknownst to him, this same scenario played out - me driving past, wondering about him, then wondering where my life was going at the time. Today was like a fucking time warp. Is he content to do the things he does, or does he do them out of necessity, mental illness, fear, lack of resources....what? Is that just his lifestyle? What about me? What makes me do the things I do and are we so different?

So after 15 years, he is still sitting there, collecting small items, saving discarded cigarette butts. I am still driving past and wondering what to do with my life. Some things do appear to come full circle and don't change much to the untrained eye.

And both of us are still talking to ourselves.

Been a pleasure but the pleasures been mine all mine...

If you recognize those lyrics you know what CD I've been listening to for the better part of the day. If not, go check out the Foo Fighters... and where in the hell have you been?! I'm guessing my neighbors have been listening to it as well because even my windows are vibrating from the bass and sheer volume. Oh well, fuck 'em. They were the ones that moved IN at one in the morning. Hope they hate my music.

Anyway, I've had a few unforseen blows to deal with over the past couple of days and spent the morning and early afternoon refusing to leave my bed, crying. Instead of writing about that shit, I heard something that made me think about this post. Yep, this very one I'm in the midst of writing. I was going to do this a while ago but today seemed perfect for several reasons.

Today I learned that Dave Grohl is a new dad. Other than the fact that the bastard was supposed to have ME give birth to his children, I suppose I'm happy for him. Well, as happy as you can be for someone you don't know. I'm still bitter that I was not the one having his child. Ok, more plainly, I'm bitter that I was not the one he was having sex with. I don't really give a shit whether I have his kid... I just want him.

Even as interesting as Kurt Cobain was (and he really was) I was always peering back to the guy behind the drums hidden by the long hair. Years later, after Dave began other projects, I was so drawn to him and the image he portrayed; intense, a bit goofy, always kind of nerdy, not to mention the talent thing.

I have only good things to say about him, and some rather saucy thoughts that I shall keep to myself, but can I help it if I'm a bit taken aback by the fact that he's out having kids with someone else?! Oh well, I still think he's adorable but I'll just have to start looking elsewhere if he's going to insist on pretending he doesn't even know I exist. (Ahem.) Damn. If that boy only knew...

> Due to raging hormones, expect more of these lustful little tributes to the men in my life that I will never get within 50 feet of yet am convinced I could coerce into some pretty fantastic sex. <

Must scream...or something...

So I've been applying online for a few positions so I can get out of this clusterfuck they call the hospital where I work. So far I've gotten back three responses telling me that either I haven't filled in a certain section section properly, I need to provide more info, or that they couldn't pull up my resume in the format I used. WTF?!?! The format I'm using is one of the most common, not to mention the only word processing software I have. The other problems are because their site won't let me get any further! Bastards! I've removed any and all pop-up blockers and it just won't let me go further. I'm not an idiot, I can handle filling out an application for shit's sake!

This is just plain old pissing me off. I'm trying to make things better and it just seems to be getting harder and harder. These emails from the prospective employers were kind of a hard thing to wake up to today. I hate being reminded that I'm slamming headlong into brick walls on a regular basis. It's a good thing I'm not really the suicidal type considering that Pittsburgh is second only to Venice in the number of bridges from which I could fling myself. I'd say I'm more the homocidal type - fear for the others, would ya'?

Alright, off to bang my head on the wall some more. Anyone got a helmet?

Sometimes you see the strangest things...

... and without subtitles or those little cartoon thought bubbles popping up in midair, you are left to draw your own bizarre conclusion. Case in point... last night I was coming home from work at approximately 1:45 am and as I turned the corner onto my street I see this guy, standing directly under one of three turbo-charged streetlamps in front of the assisted living apartment complex that happens to be across the street and a few houses down from my lovely abode. This guy is just standing there but moving in slow motion as if making his way to the edge of the invisible vat of molasses he appears to be trapped in. First, I'm thinking this is just another customer of our local 'snack truck' (have I told you about the snack truck?) and he's whacked out on some sort of drug and most likely hallucinating about being in a vat of molasses. As I watched him though, I came to the conclusion that he was actually doing Tai Chi because the movements seemed to have purpose. Still odd to do outside, in a bad neighborhood, at 1:45 am, but hey, to each his own. I think I've determined the difference between city living and small town living. In the city, you see it all. With smaller towns, it's still there, you just don't see it as often. Everyone is loopy. No one is exempt.

And just as a point of interest, after griping that I don't know anyone here and never do anything, I've been invited out for a coworker's birthday on Saturday. I mean out with other people and to an actual club. Unless hospital scrubs are acceptable attire at this club, I need to shop for something that fits...soon! Everything I have is either too big or just not suitable. If I go shopping for this, I damn well better have a good time because I hate shopping. Hate it! Do you hear me?!?! Of course, I also fear that if I go, I'll start enjoying myself and making ties and that will undermine the decision I've already made. I mean about leaving. Sheesh, I'm just never happy, am I? =)

Although things appear to be ok now, we had a bit of a scare when my cousin (who looks like a caucasian Queen Latifah) was rushed to the hospital yesterday. It made me realize that I'm having a harder time being away from my family than I thought I would. Sure, I may bitch about them when I'm there, but I miss them when I'm not. Go figure.

Ooh... best of all... I found a sweet little lop-eared stuffed bunny in the gift shop at work that is calling my name... can you hear it, too? I have no control when it comes to lagomorphs; none whatsoever!

How I almost unintentionally caused the untimely demise of my mother (and other stories to warm the heart)

I've always said there's something rather peculiar about my timing; either remarkably good (and it saves life and/or limb) or horrendously bad. Mainly the latter. I'd have to say this story covers a little of both, but my mother would argue that my timing, or lack thereof, nearly caused her death today. Then again, she does have a flair for drama.

So, it was a busyish day today and I actually got to meet mom and Gram for lunch where we proceeded to exchange some items between us (no, not contraband) including my car. She is taking it for the emissions check to see if it will pass or if this LiVEwiRe will be on the hunt for new wheels in the not too distant future. Pretty nice, don't you think? Well, after the events of this evening, I would not at all be surprised to learn that my Camry was involved in a mysterious one vehicle explosion. She'd claim it was the gas leak; I'd know it was payback...

After returning home from the trip, respectively, we each got unpacked and settled in. Some time went by and we ended up talking on the phone hitting on numerous topics then bouncing to others and rolling back to the ones we'd opened with (yes, I do that in person, too). Maybe an hour into the conversation my cell's call waiting alert came on so I sort of abruptly told her to hang on. I looked at the name and number that came up and had absolutely no idea who it was, but figured I must have if I had them programmed. I was annoyed that I couldn't figure it out and kind of mumbled 'wait a minute' halfway into the phone sounding a bit inconvenienced. Turns out it was my cousin from California that I spoke with last about 4 or 5 months ago and before that....uh, probably 15 years, at least. Anyway, I was pretty excited and although I heard my call waiting alert me again (3 times...) I ignored it because I figured it was just my mom telling me she was going to bed and that I didn't have to call her back. Then maybe she called to add something she forgot. Then maybe, well, you get the idea.

When I get off the phone with my cousin, I called my mom back immediately and she jumped at me with 'are you ok?!' I told her I was but was really confused by her panicked reaction of me being on another call. Something wasn't adding up. This is a good time to remember her tendency toward the dramatic, ok? Turns out that she didn't realize I had taken another call (which I come back 99% of the time to the original caller... except this time) and could hear what seemed to be an open line. In her mind, I was being, strangled with my PC speaker wires, beaten with my own arm, fending off intruders that found their way in while I was out for the day, running from an explosion, out in the street witnessing a horrific 74 car pile up...well - you get the idea. (And you wonder why I think of things like Stabby-Man?! It's genetic, damnit!) I do suppose if I'd picked up her calls, this wouldn't have happened. But it get's better....

She informs me that she had no idea what to do and so... she called the local police. They would patch through a call to my nearest station, but they didn't have the number. She was just about to call for the number to my local police department to send them to see that I was ok and not a victim of some hideous crime. Do you realize what would have happened had I been on that call for another 5 or 10 minutes? Do you?! I'll tell you. I'd hear banging on my door yelling 'Police, open up' to which I would have responded by ignoring it and quietly scampering to find a nice place to hide, ulu in one hand, keychain in the other, knowing full well I'd not phoned the police. I'd have ended my call with my cousin and proceeded to diall 911... 'It's an emergency! Send help! There are police imposters trying to get into my house right at this very moment! Hurry, for the love of God, they have a battering ram! I don't want to lose my security deposit...hurry!' So, when the police would arrive to apprehend the, er, police - I'd have a whole lot of 'splaining to do and I would have no idea what was going on.

And all this because I thought she knew I took another call while she had no idea what happened after I told her to hold on in an annoyed voice. Turns out she was pacing at home, cell phone in one hand, land line in the other feverishly leaving progressively more panicked and worried messages on my cell (as it's my only phone) and preparing to send out the National Guard.

Moral of the story? Always call your mother. Always. If not, you'll feel really bad. Honest.

Revelations and Condemnations

I've been doing some heavy duty thinking lately. The kind that would even tire the Energizer Bunny. What have I come up with? I'm not a happy camper. That's no big surprise, but through talking with a couple of people, I've come closer to learning why. The details are still hazy, but it's enough for me to know that something has to be done. Not everything can be changed at once, but I think I've found a starting point that I can deal with...

I'm leaving my job. Yes, the job that got my ass up and moving, out of Ohio, away from familiarity, away from my family, back 'home'. The one that I thought would be such a good career move. The sole reason I came here. Can I do the job? Yes, and well. Do they like me? They tell me so all the time. Is it a good match? No, not for me. I didn't want to admit to that, but I think I've finally faced it. As much as I love frogs, sometimes when you kiss a frog, it's still just a frog. I'll wait a while before I tell them that they are still just a frog. It's like unrequited love on the career front.

Will I be staying in Pittsburgh? That's a tough one. The job is the reason I came here but I could find something else. If I wanted to stay here. For reasons I'm not ready to get into (and one of you reading this knows what I'm talking about and why I hesitate) moving here has been more taxing than I had anticipated. It is specifically here. I never saw this little glitch coming but I refuse to live my life with blinders on in attempt to preserve my remaining sanity. Maybe someday I'll explain it. Or not.

Will I return to Ohio? That's a good question. The only thing that I am sure of at this precise moment is that I took a chance to better myself and it didn't play out as I'd hoped. Not even remotely. However, I did learn so much more about myself than I thought I could in such a short period of time. It's funny, just when you think you've identified your neuroses, an entire new crop springs forth.

My brain is saturated with thoughts, possibilities, and now more unrest. But I think that I'm at least willing to continue looking at this under a microscope because I will keep standing in my own way if I don't. The level of honesty I have with myself is my only hope at sorting this out. My current level of honesty says, "What the fuck do I do now?!"

It's hard to admit to defeat. But this is my choice, and I've learned from past experience that often the most screwed up situations that leave you feeling utterly depleted and thoroughly confused can also yield what can only be termed enlightenment. Even so, it isn't changing the fact that my path to enlightenment is paved with tears, anger, confusion and Prevacid.

At least I feel like I'm getting somewhere with all these feelings I've been having, so we'll see where it takes me.