Who knew that inner sociopath* picture would rise up to take on a life of it's own? I mean really. I have zero filter ability. Zero. If you have a pulse, you will be screamed at although the pulse is not essential. The really scary thing about this is that I don't just yell, the incredibly loud extremely foul language is interspersed with truth. Unfortunately in the heat of it all I lack the ability to maintain full diplomacy and it's all out there. In ya face. Somewhere in there is when the sociopath thing kicks in. I've been told by the very few people that have seen me go off, as in way off, that it's a highly unsettling thing. Sure, I yell and swear, that's to be expected. But it would seem that some sort of change that happens and something about me is downright scary. I eventually made a joke about possession to the one person and they very seriously said, 'Don't joke, there's this look that comes over you and you might not be far off.' When it happens I'm not just flailing words about all girly and hysterical. Oh no. I think it's a look of sheer and unsurpassed contempt paired with the use of intelligent words, not name calling. It's been said that I also glare at people as if I'm contemplating ripping their throat out with my teeth. So part of me is in control, the other, primal.
Now, let me say that I am not posessed by the devil, his cronies, or even a moderately angry spirit. It's me. Just good 'ol me. Sweet me that for years didn't feel her voice counted. Pushing it down for a lifetime only quieted it temporarily; long enough to build up pressure to blow to the heavens when events warrant. And sometimes when they don't. I can't really tell anymore, all I know is that my threshhold has been lowered far enough to stymie the limbo king.
Which leads to this. I lost it with my boss. Seriously, he was wrong and I had done nothing wrong. I mean it... people always say that but it really is true. He's under a vast amount of stress and perhaps that's why he snapped. But he picked the wrong person. In the end, he actually sent me an email apologizing, telling me he felt awful and I could have anything I wanted, etc. That was a big step from a hot-headed guy. I told him I accepted his apology but still held firm to my words. In this instance, we are absolutely fine. But I've gone off on family members, and I can't tell you how many nurses at work. This could prove to be troublesome. I'd like to try to control this but it just jumps out; kind of like a sneeze. Maybe the meds need a boost.
So perhaps my inner sociopath is on the way out. I don't know. To be sure, there is no ego boost or feeling of superiority. Sure, I like saying what's on my mind, but this is out of bounds. If anything, I'm going along day to day just trying to be left alone for now lest I release the beast. My family is telling me I'm hard to be around. I have no idea what happened to exacerbate this behavior, but it's really a pain in the ass. And in the end, I'm afraid I will lose alot more than just my composure if I can't cool down.
*Kitty, thank you for that term. Looking back, that picture might not have been too far away from it all! ;)
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Friday, February 22, 2008
Racially tinged post * warning
Why is Barack Obama black? Um, isn't his mother white? So one parent is black, one is white. But he's black. I do not understand.**
I've got a friend that is biracial. She was raised by white, Scottish parents and opts for long braids in her hair. She often refers to herself as black but in many other conversations, she has said she's just as much white. She just 'looks' more black so that's what people expect of her.
Is being biracial like accidentally washing a red sock in with your whites? People are going to notice it so you might as well claim it as what you are, ignoring the rest?
Perhaps I'm just pissed off by hearing about how important the womens vote is now and how incredibly important the black vote is now. Bullshit. Bull-fucking-shit. Your vote was just as important in all the previous elections but so many chose not to use it. If you need to be prompted by Hillary, or by a black man that I still don't think is black, go ahead. As long as it gets you to vote.
One thing, though. Don't be stupid. Vote for who YOU want to vote for, not who they are telling you that you want to vote for. It's exciting to have a female candidate for nomination as well as a black candidate (although technically...). It is fabulous that this will stimulate some people to think and act. I just hope they don't hop on the Hillary train because just because they're female or the Barack train only because they're black. She could be a hardcore PMSer and take you on that ride every month if elected. You think you want that just because she's a woman? Is it worth it? And he may turn out to ban everything you hold dear because you didn't investigate. You think you want that just because he's black? Is it worth it? The idea of either candidate becoming a nominee is exciting; a first for both. I just think that's all people are focusing on.
So back to the other issue. I really want to know the answer. Is there some unwritten clause that states that the darker skin color wins out for racial declaration? Ok then. So what if you are Asian and Puerto Rican? Honduran and Indian? I'd think that in some circumstances, this would be rather difficult to navigate. Do we really have that much of a desire to label people and toss them into neat little compartments that they can't even acknowledge their heritage?
Then again, has anyone ever heard of capturing the biracial vote? I don't know. I still don't think he's black. (And if he can use that term, so can I.) I just get pissed off when I hear this... "Uh, huh. Oh, you know that's right! My vote gonna get his black ass in THE. WHITE. HOUSE!! 'Bama in the hizouse!" (Don't give me any shit, I witnessed this conversation today.) If he had 'whiter' features, my guess is that he'd get all sorts of shit for trying to 'pass' and have very little popularity no matter what he stood for. People are fickle.
So in the end, we all gripe about inequality of many sorts, including racial. Most often we try to say 'ignore color' and 'were all the same on the inside'. Blahblahblah... But in the next breath we are drawing dividing lines... the female vote... the black vote. In which case, you're black when it suits you if you're the candidate. I mean come on, if he were a regular guy he'd be not black enough for some and not nearly white enough for others. Just ask my friend, she lives it.
I find it confusing to figure out when people want to be compartmentalized and when they want to just be free to be who they are. Do they want to be herded and told where and when they count or do they just want to go about and do what seems right? Is being who you are really that hard? I'm afraid the answer might be 'yes'.
** Look, I'm just really pissy today and I have all these questions and no one to ask them to. If you've been around here long enough you should know that I don't really discriminate... I'm annoyed by ALL people. The questions I'm having are more about the state of what is acceptable and why. We seem to set all these taboos and morees just to knock them down while condemning others for doing the same. When it all comes down to it, either Hillary or Barack will get my vote, barring any bizarre happenings. Terms like 'womens vote' and 'black vote' piss me off. Its as if it discredits voters' ability to select a candidate prior to someone pointing out that there's a woman or a black man to identify with. Then there's still the question of 'how much black makes you black'? How much white is too much to mess it up? Look, I'm being honest in asking, not trying to step on toes. Or perhaps little miss white girl over here is just jealous that she doesn't have a drop of anything remotely interesting in her.
I've got a friend that is biracial. She was raised by white, Scottish parents and opts for long braids in her hair. She often refers to herself as black but in many other conversations, she has said she's just as much white. She just 'looks' more black so that's what people expect of her.
Is being biracial like accidentally washing a red sock in with your whites? People are going to notice it so you might as well claim it as what you are, ignoring the rest?
Perhaps I'm just pissed off by hearing about how important the womens vote is now and how incredibly important the black vote is now. Bullshit. Bull-fucking-shit. Your vote was just as important in all the previous elections but so many chose not to use it. If you need to be prompted by Hillary, or by a black man that I still don't think is black, go ahead. As long as it gets you to vote.
One thing, though. Don't be stupid. Vote for who YOU want to vote for, not who they are telling you that you want to vote for. It's exciting to have a female candidate for nomination as well as a black candidate (although technically...). It is fabulous that this will stimulate some people to think and act. I just hope they don't hop on the Hillary train because just because they're female or the Barack train only because they're black. She could be a hardcore PMSer and take you on that ride every month if elected. You think you want that just because she's a woman? Is it worth it? And he may turn out to ban everything you hold dear because you didn't investigate. You think you want that just because he's black? Is it worth it? The idea of either candidate becoming a nominee is exciting; a first for both. I just think that's all people are focusing on.
So back to the other issue. I really want to know the answer. Is there some unwritten clause that states that the darker skin color wins out for racial declaration? Ok then. So what if you are Asian and Puerto Rican? Honduran and Indian? I'd think that in some circumstances, this would be rather difficult to navigate. Do we really have that much of a desire to label people and toss them into neat little compartments that they can't even acknowledge their heritage?
Then again, has anyone ever heard of capturing the biracial vote? I don't know. I still don't think he's black. (And if he can use that term, so can I.) I just get pissed off when I hear this... "Uh, huh. Oh, you know that's right! My vote gonna get his black ass in THE. WHITE. HOUSE!! 'Bama in the hizouse!" (Don't give me any shit, I witnessed this conversation today.) If he had 'whiter' features, my guess is that he'd get all sorts of shit for trying to 'pass' and have very little popularity no matter what he stood for. People are fickle.
So in the end, we all gripe about inequality of many sorts, including racial. Most often we try to say 'ignore color' and 'were all the same on the inside'. Blahblahblah... But in the next breath we are drawing dividing lines... the female vote... the black vote. In which case, you're black when it suits you if you're the candidate. I mean come on, if he were a regular guy he'd be not black enough for some and not nearly white enough for others. Just ask my friend, she lives it.
I find it confusing to figure out when people want to be compartmentalized and when they want to just be free to be who they are. Do they want to be herded and told where and when they count or do they just want to go about and do what seems right? Is being who you are really that hard? I'm afraid the answer might be 'yes'.
** Look, I'm just really pissy today and I have all these questions and no one to ask them to. If you've been around here long enough you should know that I don't really discriminate... I'm annoyed by ALL people. The questions I'm having are more about the state of what is acceptable and why. We seem to set all these taboos and morees just to knock them down while condemning others for doing the same. When it all comes down to it, either Hillary or Barack will get my vote, barring any bizarre happenings. Terms like 'womens vote' and 'black vote' piss me off. Its as if it discredits voters' ability to select a candidate prior to someone pointing out that there's a woman or a black man to identify with. Then there's still the question of 'how much black makes you black'? How much white is too much to mess it up? Look, I'm being honest in asking, not trying to step on toes. Or perhaps little miss white girl over here is just jealous that she doesn't have a drop of anything remotely interesting in her.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Used to ride around here on my high, high horse
Hear me out on this one. I suck. Not only do I suck, but I really, really suck. I'm rotten and I know it. Do I feel bad about it? Yeah. Might I try to explain my way out of it? Sure. But no matter; I still suck. See, when there is something I don't want to handle, I most often plow straight through it anyway. Now, when that something surprises me, I have an altogether different response. I like to call it "I'm not listening I'm not listening I'm not listening". Or, more specifically, I deny it.
A couple of weeks ago I saw a girl I'd gone to school with. We'd kept in touch throughout the years albeit sporadically. As I'm in the store I turn and glance up and lock eyes with her. Me, being rather indifferent flashes a noncommittal half smile; the kind you give to strangers that pass you in the hall. Way to go Miss Friendly. All because I didn't want to have to answer questions about my life.
But today was worse. Way worse. I'm at work and walking down the hall which is littered with med carts and food carts and even though I was pissy as all hell and in my own little world, I was aware that there were several people walking toward me. I stood off to the side and impatiently waited for them to move faster. (Really, I was incredibly cranky.) Assessment indicates that one slows slightly and I look up, reminding myself to be pleasant. And I am. We make eye contact and I smile, kind of tilt my head and say 'hi' in a pleasant but utterly detatched manner. As I break eye contact, I realize it's someone I know. Holy fuck. I can't go back on the detatched theme now so I keep going as if I had no idea at all who he was. My excellent peripheral vision showed that not only did he turn to watch me, but he was pointing me out to his buddy. Most likely saying 'see that girl? I know her, I know she knows it's me and she's being a complete bitch'. And he's right. I knew it was him and opted to not do a damn thing. That was so wrong and I've figured out why.
See, I've known him for, oh, maybe 8 years now but haven't seen him for perhaps three. (His live-in girlfriend didn't like me so much as he was apparently talking about me a bit more than he should have.) When it started, I was amused by him and he always professed his love for me. It was his drinking that was an issue. Drunk/sober; night/day. He was never mean, just really fucking annoying and loud and did I mention annoying? So we always did this dance, he and I. Circling one another. Never getting into a full relationship but spending years contemplating it and going through all the motions sans the title. See, he was always after the teeny gals with the long blonde hair, which I was not. I was more into the dark, mental anguish type or the intelligent ones. He was this plucky construction worker with kids. (Yes, guys can be plucky.) He was a grade A jackass most of the time, but there was something about him that I could not deny that I liked. He just tried so hard. He really was a good guy. Annoying, but good.
And today I pass him in the hall, he was obviously visiting someone in the hospital. Of all the places I could have been at that moment and I chose to go on rounds a bit early; I would have missed him most likely. So there he is, this guy that is much, much more than a casual friend. Someone I struggled to not be drawn to yet I was. And when put on the spot, I ignored him and stepped past him. Even when I saw that he'd turned and was pointing me out. I kept on, just as if he were any other person.
Not only does it bother me that what I did was most likely confusing to him but maybe hurtful, but something more. I intentionally did not acknowledge him. How basic a need is that? To be seen, heard, simple validation of your existence. And I looked him in the eye and took that all away. If I can do that; intentionally pretend you are nothing, that either means I have serious issues or that my safety mechanisms have gone haywire. Truthfully, I feel worse about this than if I'd just walked up and sucker punched him. This was a betrayal of sorts. Shit, I'm awful!
And surely you can guess what I'm thinking now, right? I'm hoping to see him again or even stop by his house. Just to creatively explain (er, lie) as to why I didn't say anything, even when I looked straight at him!!! Ok, I have no idea what I could say but I'm a creative girl, I'll pull it off. I know it won't turn back time, but I want him to know that I do see him. That I didn't forget who he was or that he meant so little to me that I didn't care. Man, this is really, really bothering me. Hardcore.
Do I think I could manage to let him know, without really revealing everything, that I'm sorry for being like that? I don't know. I know him. His reaction tells me that he's confused. Confusion pairs with doubt. I'm going to have to find a way. I can handle feeling like an ass if it clears things up.
Sometimes my desire to be fully detached gets the best of me. I was so mean. I didn't mean to be, it just happened. Quiet meanness. The look of hopeful recognition in his eyes is killing me. I'm not really sure what I feel I must protect myself from at all times but it's causing problems.
Every person deserves to be seen. I took that basic truth away. Man, I suck.
A couple of weeks ago I saw a girl I'd gone to school with. We'd kept in touch throughout the years albeit sporadically. As I'm in the store I turn and glance up and lock eyes with her. Me, being rather indifferent flashes a noncommittal half smile; the kind you give to strangers that pass you in the hall. Way to go Miss Friendly. All because I didn't want to have to answer questions about my life.
But today was worse. Way worse. I'm at work and walking down the hall which is littered with med carts and food carts and even though I was pissy as all hell and in my own little world, I was aware that there were several people walking toward me. I stood off to the side and impatiently waited for them to move faster. (Really, I was incredibly cranky.) Assessment indicates that one slows slightly and I look up, reminding myself to be pleasant. And I am. We make eye contact and I smile, kind of tilt my head and say 'hi' in a pleasant but utterly detatched manner. As I break eye contact, I realize it's someone I know. Holy fuck. I can't go back on the detatched theme now so I keep going as if I had no idea at all who he was. My excellent peripheral vision showed that not only did he turn to watch me, but he was pointing me out to his buddy. Most likely saying 'see that girl? I know her, I know she knows it's me and she's being a complete bitch'. And he's right. I knew it was him and opted to not do a damn thing. That was so wrong and I've figured out why.
See, I've known him for, oh, maybe 8 years now but haven't seen him for perhaps three. (His live-in girlfriend didn't like me so much as he was apparently talking about me a bit more than he should have.) When it started, I was amused by him and he always professed his love for me. It was his drinking that was an issue. Drunk/sober; night/day. He was never mean, just really fucking annoying and loud and did I mention annoying? So we always did this dance, he and I. Circling one another. Never getting into a full relationship but spending years contemplating it and going through all the motions sans the title. See, he was always after the teeny gals with the long blonde hair, which I was not. I was more into the dark, mental anguish type or the intelligent ones. He was this plucky construction worker with kids. (Yes, guys can be plucky.) He was a grade A jackass most of the time, but there was something about him that I could not deny that I liked. He just tried so hard. He really was a good guy. Annoying, but good.
And today I pass him in the hall, he was obviously visiting someone in the hospital. Of all the places I could have been at that moment and I chose to go on rounds a bit early; I would have missed him most likely. So there he is, this guy that is much, much more than a casual friend. Someone I struggled to not be drawn to yet I was. And when put on the spot, I ignored him and stepped past him. Even when I saw that he'd turned and was pointing me out. I kept on, just as if he were any other person.
Not only does it bother me that what I did was most likely confusing to him but maybe hurtful, but something more. I intentionally did not acknowledge him. How basic a need is that? To be seen, heard, simple validation of your existence. And I looked him in the eye and took that all away. If I can do that; intentionally pretend you are nothing, that either means I have serious issues or that my safety mechanisms have gone haywire. Truthfully, I feel worse about this than if I'd just walked up and sucker punched him. This was a betrayal of sorts. Shit, I'm awful!
And surely you can guess what I'm thinking now, right? I'm hoping to see him again or even stop by his house. Just to creatively explain (er, lie) as to why I didn't say anything, even when I looked straight at him!!! Ok, I have no idea what I could say but I'm a creative girl, I'll pull it off. I know it won't turn back time, but I want him to know that I do see him. That I didn't forget who he was or that he meant so little to me that I didn't care. Man, this is really, really bothering me. Hardcore.
Do I think I could manage to let him know, without really revealing everything, that I'm sorry for being like that? I don't know. I know him. His reaction tells me that he's confused. Confusion pairs with doubt. I'm going to have to find a way. I can handle feeling like an ass if it clears things up.
Sometimes my desire to be fully detached gets the best of me. I was so mean. I didn't mean to be, it just happened. Quiet meanness. The look of hopeful recognition in his eyes is killing me. I'm not really sure what I feel I must protect myself from at all times but it's causing problems.
Every person deserves to be seen. I took that basic truth away. Man, I suck.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
anime? aniME! (I'm breaking the rules)
Well now. I have to say that I am kind of surprised that this post is in the midst of coming to life. Perhaps it's because I've been here with you for just over three years. Three years you've been listening to me ramble. Or making fun of me while I ramble. Either way.
So anyway, in order to show you, I have to meet you... here's me in my aniME do.
But that's not really it. And it's not for shallow reasons, you should know me better by now.
This post is sheerly for amusement although I am not a fan of how I need to go about demonstrating said point of amusement. I'm actually breaking a huge rule of my own here. But this amuses me, so I'm just going to go with it for now.
See, I just got my hair cut. For the second time in a row, my stylist has fashioned my red tresses into a real life anime 'do'.
Perhaps it doesn't translate well via hastily shot photos, but trust me... I am lookin' like one of those genderless lil' things in the cartoons! Ok, at least my hair. The rest of me was in sweats, hardly any makeup and growing more tired on my busy day off. I don't recall any anime characters in that exact state.
So anyway, in order to show you, I have to meet you... here's me in my aniME do.
Haha! Note the skulls on my shirt; or Jolly Rogers as my friend calls them. I feel soooo awkward. This post may self destruct at any time. Possibly even before I post it. ;)
!
Monday, February 18, 2008
I'm guessing this isn't what Mr. King was referring to...
So. This dream was, well, peculiar. I was pregnant. Not just pregnant but going into labor. And until that moment, I had no recollection of even being pregnant. I looked down and saw belly. I reached down and touched belly. I felt faint and found myself mostly on the floor with a doctor trying to administer an IV sedative. Ok so yeah, I'm guessing I wasn't just calm as could be when I learned I was 9 months pregnant like, 96 seconds ago! As it turns out, I bargained for him to give me only half the usual dose because I still wanted an epidural and was not about to take the chance that it would interfere with that. Still, I blocked out the entire pregnancy?
Anyway, I look around and realize that there is no one around that I know. I think Paul is out getting something to drink but then I look down and sadly realize that he cannot be the father because I haven't seen him in many years. He is not even out getting a drink. He's not here, he's just gone. But I can feel contractions starting. And I'm confused. And alone. With no idea where I am. And a moment ago I wasn't pregnant. Now I'm in labor. I cannot grasp this. Thankfully, I don't have to. The sedative sees that I finish my descent to the floor and I feel it fading away to nothing.
Just to clear thing up. No, I am not pregnant. Not even by a longshot. I do think I miss Paul very much but fear contacting him. I want to, but I'm scared of several possible outcomes. As far as the actual pregnancy thing, I'm guessing it symbolized something else (as dreams will do) but it made me think. I don't enjoy most surprises, so for this, just imagine you wake up and *poof*, you're going into labor. Weird. Perhaps I should wash my nightly Klonopin down with a beer or something. Know what the weirdest thing was, though? I was sort of ok with it.
Anyway, I look around and realize that there is no one around that I know. I think Paul is out getting something to drink but then I look down and sadly realize that he cannot be the father because I haven't seen him in many years. He is not even out getting a drink. He's not here, he's just gone. But I can feel contractions starting. And I'm confused. And alone. With no idea where I am. And a moment ago I wasn't pregnant. Now I'm in labor. I cannot grasp this. Thankfully, I don't have to. The sedative sees that I finish my descent to the floor and I feel it fading away to nothing.
Just to clear thing up. No, I am not pregnant. Not even by a longshot. I do think I miss Paul very much but fear contacting him. I want to, but I'm scared of several possible outcomes. As far as the actual pregnancy thing, I'm guessing it symbolized something else (as dreams will do) but it made me think. I don't enjoy most surprises, so for this, just imagine you wake up and *poof*, you're going into labor. Weird. Perhaps I should wash my nightly Klonopin down with a beer or something. Know what the weirdest thing was, though? I was sort of ok with it.
Friday, February 15, 2008
A pressure cooker without the tasty goodness
I dunno. I could be wrong. Something tells me that all that I have been doing to get my life in order is really only a cushion for when things go haywire. It might be starting. It sort of feels that way. It is so annoying when you feel like you are on the cusp of something but instead of being excited about it, you have this low voltage edginess going on.
I'm watching old episodes of I Love Lucy (as if there are new ones...) and gritting my teeth at the simplicity of it all. Jealously, of course. In addition, she's got some killer dresses and a hot Cuban. For as much as I enjoy watching the show, I always feel like I somehow failed. In general. Like it's a societal-based failure.
Parts of me are so hateful that I am even somewhat embarassed. Not sure where it's coming from so I find it hard to reel it in. If I can't go to the source, I don't know which wire to cut, you know? Really though, I'm still a very sweet, intelligent, kind person at the same time. I just change on a dime. Perhaps that's what I'm having a hard time with. Maybe I feel like I am supposed to be one or the other, not one and the other.
Winter is getting to me and I fear that one more bout of snow and freezing rain will have me sprawled out, pounding my fists into the mess and shouting obscenities. Not that much different from any other day with the exception that I could hurt myself punching ice. Winter makes me feel confined. I have serious confinement issues. Perhaps I should reevaluate my current locale in reference to weather sometime in the next year or so.
Not without a long string of unforseen and poorly paired events, I came into the world of technology today. One level of it anyway. Digital phone, caller ID, digital cable and the DVR thingy. I'm recording something as we speak. Which I want to say I'm taping it but that's not accurate, is it? Old habits, eh? Never did have caller ID on a home phone. I'd let you leave a message and if I felt like talking, I'd call you back. That was a fine form of ID in my book. But it's now included, so I have it. Apparently sometime tomorrow it will be showing up on the TV screen, should I have it on. As if I'm too lazy to turn and look at the handset next to me.
Oh, and here's a little something I learned along the way. Unless you actually have a septic system or really sensitive plumbing, do not buy septic safe toilet paper. You can grab three yards of the stuff and wrap it around your hand but when all is said and done, your hand goes right through and you've basically just peed on your own hand. Granted, it is your own urine but still. Apparently septic safe means water (or urine) breaks it down easily. Good for the septic system, bad for my hand.
I'll be around to spread my cheer over the weekend. Not to worry, I'll wash my hands first.
I'm watching old episodes of I Love Lucy (as if there are new ones...) and gritting my teeth at the simplicity of it all. Jealously, of course. In addition, she's got some killer dresses and a hot Cuban. For as much as I enjoy watching the show, I always feel like I somehow failed. In general. Like it's a societal-based failure.
Parts of me are so hateful that I am even somewhat embarassed. Not sure where it's coming from so I find it hard to reel it in. If I can't go to the source, I don't know which wire to cut, you know? Really though, I'm still a very sweet, intelligent, kind person at the same time. I just change on a dime. Perhaps that's what I'm having a hard time with. Maybe I feel like I am supposed to be one or the other, not one and the other.
Winter is getting to me and I fear that one more bout of snow and freezing rain will have me sprawled out, pounding my fists into the mess and shouting obscenities. Not that much different from any other day with the exception that I could hurt myself punching ice. Winter makes me feel confined. I have serious confinement issues. Perhaps I should reevaluate my current locale in reference to weather sometime in the next year or so.
Not without a long string of unforseen and poorly paired events, I came into the world of technology today. One level of it anyway. Digital phone, caller ID, digital cable and the DVR thingy. I'm recording something as we speak. Which I want to say I'm taping it but that's not accurate, is it? Old habits, eh? Never did have caller ID on a home phone. I'd let you leave a message and if I felt like talking, I'd call you back. That was a fine form of ID in my book. But it's now included, so I have it. Apparently sometime tomorrow it will be showing up on the TV screen, should I have it on. As if I'm too lazy to turn and look at the handset next to me.
Oh, and here's a little something I learned along the way. Unless you actually have a septic system or really sensitive plumbing, do not buy septic safe toilet paper. You can grab three yards of the stuff and wrap it around your hand but when all is said and done, your hand goes right through and you've basically just peed on your own hand. Granted, it is your own urine but still. Apparently septic safe means water (or urine) breaks it down easily. Good for the septic system, bad for my hand.
I'll be around to spread my cheer over the weekend. Not to worry, I'll wash my hands first.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Gah!!! I need to know what you know!
Help. I need to know if this name/word has any significance to anyone. Anyone at all. I mean, is it something I made up? I could have but it's been invading my brain daily for months. Nothing more, just the word. Either I find out what it is or I do my best to evict it because it won't leave.
The word? Hezbekkah.
Thanks all; back soon.
The word? Hezbekkah.
Thanks all; back soon.
Friday, February 08, 2008
Five pillows are calling my name
At this point I am physically tired, stretched out, achy, and in need of vast quanities of sleep. I've handled ceiling leaks, failing garage doors, malfunctioning elevators, faulty payment postings, learning that I OWE tax this year, emails comprised of towering concepts, and conversations that contain more words than I even thought I knew. Add in computer training for a system that is to go live in just about 7 weeks and my ass firmly planted on a committee to link that with existing systems along with several shifts in my schedule that will last months. I've argued, driven many miles, and come to the conclusion that my car's gas mileage is reduced by at least 20% if I use a 10% ethanol blend. The amount I've lost in gas vs my new crown is a toss up. Spent the day with my family, even though I was sure it would end in some form of nastiness. It did, but I chose that anyway. I find that I like to have conversations more with people that are closer to dying. They have no fear about what they say. Of course they may have less tact that I might like, but I really feel comfortable taking what they say at face value.
This is not so bad. I'm. just. so. very. tired. Buzzbuzz; I'm a busy little bee.
This is not so bad. I'm. just. so. very. tired. Buzzbuzz; I'm a busy little bee.
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