Tuesday, September 30, 2003

Socially enterprising type seeks position that offers the possibility of doing investigative work...

Just got to take a personality test for my class. "Please don't throw me in briar patch!" cried the Brer Rabbit.

It was great. I love that crap. Maybe this is why I have such an unwavering idea of who I am -- because of my addiction to personality tests.

I know, who knew I had anything TO test right? No one is more surprised than I!

I feel particularly smug because my current career is SO in line with "my type." Which is probably why I don't hate my job and basically feel pretty content most of the time. At least one third of your life is spent at your job and if you hate it then 1/3 of your life sucks. Considering that another 1/3 is spent sleeping, thereby making it a "non-thing" then you have only your play time left as the last 1/3. Well, how often is your play time marred because you're thinking about your job you hate? If this is you -- it's time to make a change, friends!

Bad jobs or at least bad jobs for YOU are like bad relationships. We've all been in bad relationships, haven't we? After we get out of them, we look back and we think :::phew::: that was close! And yet, while you're in the relationship you just don't see how poisonous it is. How your friends have slipped away and how you feel so miserable all the time that you can't even remember what it was like just to be genuinely happy. And then something happens, the straw that breaks the camel's back and you get out and you look back and think, "Holy Cheese and rice how did I endure all of THAT?!"

It's the same thing with bad jobs. They're like bad boyfriends (or husbands) that you make excuses for time and time again. You keep pointing out how this one thing is good or that thing is good and how this other thing even happens sometimes. You remember the days in the beginning of your job, when things were a lot different than they are now. You remember all the promises that your bosses made to you. You try to forget that those promises didn't come through. "It's rough out there" you think. Job hunting is like dating -- I've said this before. You gotta dress up, you gotta act a certain way, you gotta hide stuff about your past at first.

But let me tell y'all something -- I've been in the bad relationship and I've been in the bad job. They both suck. And it IS better to be alone than with someone who makes you so miserable you can't breathe. And it IS better to take a substantial paycut to work at a job that doesn't make you wish you had eaten glass for breakfast rather than make that drive in again. If you are in a bad relationship -- GET OUT, it's not going to get better. He's not going to remember your birthday THIS year and he's not going to stop making derisive remarks about the girth of your hips and he IS going to keep cheating on you. If you're in a bad job -- GET OUT! Your boss does not care if you have worked there for 10 years or 10 days, you're just a buffer to delay the time before he/she gets fired. You are not going to get the raise you deserve because they've already demonstrated that they can run over you time and time again and you're just going to lie down with welcome on your back and take it. And you're going to be stressed out every day of your life wondering if today is going to be the day that they cancel the clearance on your little security badge and you can't get in the door. Get out!

All right. Does anyone need a soapbox? I seem to have found one under my feet here...


Monday, September 29, 2003

SO few exciting things happening and so little imagination to make it seem like more...

I FINALLY got to see the Trading Spaces episode where the woman was so upset that she cried. Honey, I don't blame her -- if someone did that to my house, I would have cried too. She told Paige in the smallest voice humanly imagineable that she had to leave the room now. Apparently, she didn't go far... Well, I hope she didn't because you could hear her keening sobs on camera while the poor husband just shook his head in complete befuddlement. It was sad. Because they were SUCH troopers -- even after she was crying so hard she couldn't talk she still said it was a great experience and she wouldn't have given it up, even knowing how it was going to turn out. They both said that. I thought that was great. And she still managed to be happy that her friend liked her room. Although, I get the impression that their friendship was not so friendly after the show was over... TS did a marathon tonight of the "they hated it" episodes, with little vignettes from the homeowners with their reactions (and changes) after the show was over. The first pair of couples that I saw had a brief falling out, but they eventually all got together again. But, the episode that focused on the crying woman gave no mention of their relationship after the fact, which leads me to believe that it didn't go very well.

Wonder if that'll ever turn up on The People's Court or something?

The other blog-worthy thought for the day is my issue with shoes. I seem to have started a trend of buying shoes that are REALLY uncomfortable. They seem so cute and fine in the store and then when I actually get them out into the real world -- YOWZA! Bad news bears. Poor dogs bark so much during the night that they scare the cat...

Actually, I would really like to write about the cat but that needs to be a whole blog. ACTUALLY, he needs his own blog because it would give him something to do while he waits for me to come and go all day. I feel awful. I drove home tonight and he was sitting in the front picture window. Just as cute as can be, waiting for stepmom to come home. But then I had to run out of the house two separate time after that and both times I came home and found him in the same position. I am just an awful stepparent, but I am telling you all that this cat needs a hobby and therapy. He's co-dependent. It's like having a clingy man in my life and I have NO base of knowledge in that sphere so have no idea what to do. I try to give him a good bit of loving in the morning before I leave and some more when I get home from work and some more again before I go to bed. Trust me, Daddy hasn't gotten this much action from me in a MONTH much less in just a couple days time! I'm exhausted. I had to kick him to the couch last night so I could get some rest. I've never had a human man want me this much in my WHOLE LIFE, you'd think I'd be thrilled. I mean, the boy is satisfied just being in the same room with me -- he starts purring as soon as I walk in. How can this be a bad thing?

It's not but I just don't have the time to give him that he needs. Makes me feel bad. And I need more guilt in my life over things that are out of my control like Va Beach Blvd needs another stoplight! You feeling me now?

Laundry's done -- yay!


Sunday, September 28, 2003

Terrible Teens

Is there anyone out there who can think about the time that they were 13 or 14 and not cringe with just how awful it way?

Stop reading now if you are one of those people. This blog is NOT for you, but feel free to pop in again another time.

I'm in the middle of my Psych test and the current question is about conflicts in adolescence. Talk about reeling back in time. Suddenly, I'm chunky, wearing braces and zits and have a REALLY bad perm all over again. Not to mention in DIRE need of a make-up application lesson. Can you say Tammy Faye's younger sister? I knew you could.

But I've been thinking about it at work, because my cube-mate at work (my Mentor, really) has a 13-year-old daughter and she occasionally confides in me some of the horror stories. Some of them are truly horror stories and some of them are just the stories of an over-worked mom who has had enough. So, I have to wonder -- if someone had had my mother's ear, as it were, while I was in those delicate formative years what would I want them to say?? Because that's where the interesting part is...

Don't you remember when you were 13 and you literally thought the whole world revolved around you and your friends? If you didn't go to the 8th grade dance that you might as well resign yourself to a life of spinster-hood and be done with it? Luckily, my Mentor's daughter has it a little better than many because she actually is a good looking girl. This is a good start. I was not. And this isn't even me ragging on myself again, because I'll be the first to tell you that I was pretty cute in high school -- even if I did have another big perm then. It was the late 80's -- EVERYONE had a big perm, even the guys. But, is there anything that could have been done in that time of my life to make me fully realize that it was not all about me and that there were other people in the world? What would have made me appreciate my mother for all the work she did for me? What would have made me NOT roll my eyes when my father complained that he went to work with holes in his shoes just so I could buy yet ANOTHER pair of new shoes that I wouldn't wear 2 weeks after buying them??

I'm not sure. Looking back on it, I sure wish I knew because if I ever do have kids -- I want to be able to instill in them the right amount of appreciating me and defying me so that they could create their own lives. The appreciation part is not for selfish reasons, either. Oddly enough. It's because when I look back on the way I treated my parents then, after everything they did for me (and continue to do for me) it really bothers me. I know that THEY knew that I was just 13 and didn't know any better (and frankly, I was a pretty damned good kid) but still -- I wish that I'd known it then.

My God, what IS it with all this appreciation banter tonight? Appreciate your woman, appreciate your parents -- I suppose next it'll be about appreciating your pets and teachers...

Although, now that I think about it, Mrs. Lake in the 5th grade did a fine... Oh, right. Too mushy.

Where did all the funny shit go? Did this stuff used to be funny? I mean, to anyone other than me?

Boy, look at the crowd's disperse...

Let the record reflect that even with a week that wasn't heavy with "good man stuff" that I have yet to embark on a twisted, man-hating blog.

The thing is that I'm never going to be overly fond of men in general as a sex. Largely because they are so completely the opposite of women in so many ways and I just can't relate to them. They want things to be one way until the things ARE that way and then they wish they were another.

But, it's the cave that I don't understand. Things get bumpy and you can see the brow line start to protrude more and their walk is a lot less upright and then off they go, sloughing into the cave. What is this ABOUT? Why is it SO bad and dangerous just to talk? Yeah, women like to talk things to death and it can be trying even for another woman at times, but is it so bad to talk about your emotions that you have to hide in your cave until the emotion is gone?

Scout and I had a lengthy chat about this over breakfast this morning. She's reading Men are from Mars... and a bit ired by the notion that not only is this supposed to be ACCEPTED behavior but that we're almost to encourage its continuation by shopping. Ok, this is a sexist statement to be sure but the underlying message is basically that there isn't a darned thing WRONG with the cave and we're perhaps the ones in the wrong for trying to pull the men out of it.

Yeah. Ok. Whatever. Herein lies the problem, we're left to pace outside of the cave like lions in heat. With no knowledge about what's going on in the cave even though it has the potential to impact, I don't know, the rest of our lives. And the "I can take it or leave it" attitude that most men throw towards their relationships doesn't do much to ease the pacing outside the cave. It just makes it that much more nerve-wracking and debilitating. And makes us angrier in the meantime, because we feel powerless. You in your cave there seem to hold the power as to whether or not we "get" to keep being in a relationship or not.

It sucks.

There's no way for me to give men an analogy of what it feels like on the outside of the cave. I'm really bad at analogies anyway and it's just so hard for me to conjure up an image of something that most men could feel so passionately about without the hope of knowing that those feelings were returned in kind.

And the things is guys -- you are not fooling anyone. We know you love us. We know you need us. We know that you are even occasionally pathetically grateful that we are even willing to give you the time of day, much less the enormous quantity of dirty, kinky booty whenever you want. Do you think we don't know this?? We see that look you get in your eyes sometimes and we notice the pitch of your voice when you ask what our plans are later. And that's our burden too. We know these things and yet we still need to hear them and you still need to know that you don't have to say them. It's a vicious circle sometimes.

Needless to say, sometimes we just don't want to play the game. We're not going to just fold laundry while you go spelunking in the cave. We want answers, even if we're NOT entirely certain what the questions are!

You know what the bottom line is though -- tell your woman that you love her. Act like you love her and show her too. And every day that you keep loving her, keep telling her. Can you say I love you too many times? I think not. It's not going to run out. What if you never got the chance? What if this moment that you are gazing at this precious gift that you have (and trust me, men -- we know that you're a gift too... If nothing else, you keep our conversations interesting.) -- what if this is the last moment that you will ever have? Because if this person were gone tomorrow would you truly feel that you had done and said everything you could to really make them understand that?

And if you haven't, why not??

I hate it when I have to get preachy and self-righteous like this but it can't be helped!

And no, you knowitall bastard -- I am NOT fighting with Daddy, quite the opposite. We did have a fight this week though. And I DO hate the cave. But, it's true -- I went shopping and felt much better about it! ;-)
Frankly, it's not worth having my panties all in a bunch about. I'm a talker, I want to talk about my problems; he doesn't want to talk about his. I finally decided -- fuck it, I'm selfish enough that as long as he's still willing to listen to me talk about mine that what he does with his is his deal. I would prefer that he talk to me, and honestly -- he usually does. Just not in a timeframe that I always appreciate! But, I'm learning to adjust my time frames. And he's probably learning to wear earplugs when he senses I have a problem brewing! Ha!

Anyways, enough ranting -- I have psych class stuff I need to be procrastinating on. I can't fully appreciate the procrastination unless I'm vege-ing in front of the tv!


Saturday, September 27, 2003

hodge-podge <--- another HP word!

Well, my professor didn't fully appreciate the fact that I found humor in my life versus an activity but at least he "gave me credit" for the assignment. :-P Whatever. That stinks. I thought I made an excellent point that you don't have to go out and LOOK for fun, it's right there in your own life if you just loosen up and learn to laugh at yourself.

Maybe that's his problem, he ain't laughing at himself much.

Maybe my problem is that I'm bitter.

A little.

But you would be too if you realized that you sound exactly like a pop princess. Yeah, yeah -- I was indulging in my guilty Newlyweds pleasure again. So what?

And I DO. I sound just like Jessica Simpson. You wouldn't think it's depressing -- after all, she's gorgeous and has a cute husband and frankly, she does have a great singing voice. But, MAN can she whine. I was watching the same way you gape at a train wreck and then I realized -- she has NO idea that she sounds like this because I have no idea that I sound like that until I hear it coming from someone else. She and Nick had spent a fair amount of time apart lately and she was whining because he went out and :::gasp::: HAD FUN instead of sitting around and waiting until she was free so he could talk to her on the phone. Seriously. And then, "look at my cute shoes."

Oh God -- the shame and nausea came over me as strong as morning sickness. (Ok, not that I would know what morning sickness was, but I think it's fairly well-documented that it sucks.) I realized that I had just done the same thing last night. Yuck! You don't love me, you don't miss me, hey look at my shoes.

But damnit, can I help that the shoes are cute? I mean, they were BOOTS for God's sake, not just any shoes! Not made for walking, as it turned out, but damned cute boots nevertheless.

Discovered that they were hard for walking because we went down to the beach to help my dad (my father that is) pull beer at the Neptune Festival. Instead of pouring, we worked the can stand. And it was POPPING, pun intended. Now my two index fingers are STILL sore from opening all the beers and being immersed in icy water. But it was fun. You get to meet people from all walks of life, and I had fun predicting who would be ordering the low-carb beer versus ordering the Beast. I liked that too. It's a little judgmental, but who cares? ;-)

That's about it for this week -- have to go get cleaned up so I can welcome my visitor for the next week. I'm cat-sitting for my friend Mr. Kahlua. His cat will also remain anonymous, not to protect his identity but because his name is so ridiculous that I can't bear to utter it. Poor cat, by the end of the week he'll think his name is "Cat." Or "Hey You". Or "Stop trying to sleep on my face at 3am, brat!"

Besides, I have to decide what kind of shoes to wear tonight! ;-)


Thursday, September 25, 2003

Maybe I AM a little bit country?

So this week in my Psychology class (did you forget that I was trying to get educated? That's okay -- most of the time I do too. But man that book makes a good coaster!), my homework assignment was to "have fun" but write the professor to tell him what you did. Apparently the chapter I'm supposed to be reading is about how humor is important in our lives.

This really wasn't the week for that.

Parents were over, work is just kinda strange right now in a boring way, and Daddy and I were fighting.

Needless to say, the Daddy fighting makes life a LOT less humorous. And it was about the dumbest thing and I'm not going to get into it because no one was right and no one was wrong.

But in the middle of all these small crises and trying to find some humor, I remembered a quote that I had always loved from Marie Osmond. Yes, Marie Osmond. She once said, "If you're going to be able to look back on something and laugh, you may as well laugh now."

And you know what, it's true. And if you want to really give it a broad scope, if you're going to look back and not even REMEMBER that this was a problem -- you might as well laugh at that too. Because if it's not going to matter much in a few weeks and you're not even going to care about it in a few years, why worry about it now??

I admit that part of this comes from my "tough girl act." (I know you're shocked to hear it's an act, get over it.) I act like I don't care and things don't bother me and things are simple and I know deep down that's not the case. But the fact is that deeper down -- I DO know it's true. It's just about getting through the layers. I'm a torte cake, damnit -- not an onion! Only ogres are onions! So, during the part where I think the little bad things are SO awful and are just going to rip me up, I just fake it. Fake it til you make it! If you tell yourself that you're okay often enough and that you're going to get through this minor setback or even THAT major setback, sooner or later you're going to believe it because you're going to see yourself getting through it!

My God I should be preaching this shit from a mountaintop, shouldn't I??

Problem is that we can't find a mountain big enough for my ENORMOUS ego!! ;-)

Off to bed for me -- so much for my promise to be tucked in before 11.

Tuesday, September 23, 2003

Too many Daddies

My parents still don't have power so they've been popping over (as previously noted) to utilize my electricity -- namely to keep up with their tv viewing.

It is making me crazy.

Please understand that I love my parents but having them in my house for extended periods of time is weird. I'm the kid, they're the grown-ups -- I'm supposed to be barging in on them.

Still, I came home tonight to the smell of a meal cooking and sounds in my house. That was nice. I can't even remember how long it's been since I had someone to come home to. Anyone. I guess since just about the last time I lived with them, a few years ago really. In some ways, it made my house seem more like a home. That thing that gets hot in the kitchen actually being used, the thing with chairs around it had... What's that called? Plates on it. Weird. Life happening. A sense of being normal, almost.


My parents are in my house. It's very suffocating and making me a little depressed. And the depression is linked to the guilt, I think. I feel guilty that they do not have power and I do. I feel guilty that they have done SOOOO much for me in my life and I can't even seem to be more generous about them coming over and hanging out. Soaking up the cool air and tv and computer and ice. It's terrible.

I feel guilty that I have power. Isn't that weird?? Like I've won some game unfairly or cheated on a test or something. It's the most bizarre thing. I feel like by not being traumatized by the storm that I've done something wrong. I really am fucked up.

Therapy. Or lots of alcohol. Or something. Perhaps the amount of crack my cube neighbor thinks I generally take would alleviate some of the guilt. I don't know.

In the meantime, I'm going to continue to pretend that I'm perfectly content to have my parents lolling about my house, and hope that supressing my extreme desire to be alone doesn't cause me to have an ulcer.

In Sarah Jessica mode: I had to wonder... how can I ever hope to be successful in a long-term relationship if I can't even be comfortable around the people who gave me life?

Perhaps tomorrow will be more guilt-free...

Sunday, September 21, 2003

We have comments again. They're not called shout-outs this time, just comments. Use the damned comment button it took me a while to figure it out.
short 'n' sweet... well, short... well, not as long as usual... aw shut up and read it!

Kids, Mom's hungover. Do you know what a hangover is?

"Does that mean you're drunk?"

"Not today -- I was drunk yesterday."

Lifted from School of Rock which I hope to go see, but am not holding my breath. (The last movie I saw in a theater was... was... hmmm... AH HA! That X2 movie, the X-Men sequel. I think. What was that, May? Good Lord. Honey: for our anniversay we're going to the darned movies!)

Anyways, we went to a post-hurricane party last night. That's what old people do -- we make sure everything came out okay and THEN we party, instead of during the hurricane like we did when we were kids. (Although, I never had a hurricane party; I was too young during the hurricanes when I lived here.) I partooketh too much and have been paying for it all day. As well as Daddy, whom I've just left, who got to benefit from me sniping at him. To be fair, I DID warn him it would happen and tried to leave sooner but then that damned Nick and Jessica show came on MTV and damn if that is not compelling.

Which has left me in a dither -- do I blog about this awful show (or just let you read this article from the prolific Heather Havrilesky -- who is NOT me) OR do I blog about the awful AWFUL movie I watched this morning while moaning on the couch and trying not to hurl again.

The movie it is then. Some of you may have seen it and if so, you have my apologies. It's called The Time Machine. Guy Pearce, whom I LOVED in Memento (that was that backwards movie), starred and he was just awful. But it wasn't his fault because the movie was just so bad. Painfully bad. As they say, it was trainwreck bad. It wasn't quite "Newlyweds" bad, but what can be? It starts out well enough, boy loves girl, girl loves boy, girl dies in tragic mugging, boy builds a time machine so he can go back and stop this from happening. An average story, really. But, then it got really bizarre. He decides to go to the future to get the answer to his question. And again, looks kinda promising because he sees a girl on a bike who comments on his quaint clothing and she kinda looks like the chick who died and you think that's going to turn into something. Predictably bad, maybe -- but not painful. But no. It gets worse. He decides he needs to travel further into the future and just 7 short years later he arrives to find the city in ruins because the drilling on the moon for the lunar colony they were building threw the moon out of orbit and it's about to crash into Earth.

No. I am not making that up. You see a blip about the lunar colony in his first visit to the future and then in the next instant -- it's destroying the world. Then he goes FAR into the future where he meets Mara and her brother Cayden. Their people live in these houses that look like baskets that are built into the sides of cliff walls. They're very primitive, like cavemen. People disappear, there are BAD things happening but no one ever speaks of it. Just when dude's getting ready to go travelling again, creatures rise out of the dirt and trees and start attacking. Of course, they steal Mara and no one does anything. Because they go after the ones who fight back FIRST.

Turns out these creatures evolved because of the moon crash thing -- some people went under ground and some stayed above. The underground people weren't able to survive once it was safe to go above ground and yet somehow they're able to survive long enough to hunt the above ground people. They eat them. But some of them are used for breeding, hence their interest in Mara.

No. Still not making this up. Jeremy Irons was all done up to look like a mad yet dashing albino whose brain has grown so big that it extends down his spinal cord.

Blah blah blah -- Guy Pearce fights with the bad guy, uses the time machine to change the future (he goes even further into the future and sees that the underground people are running things and so he goes back to the time when he left Mara) and decides that this land is HIS home now. Flash back to the time period he left and his nuturing housekeeper and blustery best friend are baffled at his disappearance but decide that it's for the best. Perhaps he's found a new home.

Yup. That was it.

This wasn't short. Oops. Could have actually been longer but I couldn't bear to go into the detail that was really necessary to fully describe how bad this movie was and why. This is why I couldn't be a movie critic -- I can't put the weight behind the argument. Just know that it sucks. Please don't watch it. You won't be able to stop and then you'll hate yourself after. It's kinda like when you eat the whole carton of Ben & Jerry's even though you promised yourself you were going to make it last at least 2 times this time. You hate yourself after but you know if you had to do it all over again you would.

Anyways -- last note... Turns out that the hurricane didn't cause me and S to devolve into snarking at each other. We did pretty darned well and even could have taken a break last night and neither one of us wanted to.

It's like we're in love or something, it's disgusting!! ;-)

Take care y'all -- email your hurricane stories!


ps: If you do decide to read the review of The Newlyweds, it's at Salon.com. You do NOT have to subscribe, you just have to agree to watch an ad before they'll let you finish reading. It's no big deal.

Saturday, September 20, 2003

Damn. Thought I'd already posted some hurricane stuff but just realized that was in format of mass email to friends and family.

Oh well. Here's the short version: I survived! ;-)

Slightly longer version includes info that I am one of the few residents of Hampton Roads (and further) with power. Of course, what are they going to do, shut down their premier blogger? Let's get serious! I'm regarded as a beacon of hope for all around -- and a target for their ire at not having their own power. Believe me people, I am as baffled as the next guy!

In other news, I'm now frantically "parent-proofing" my house because parents don't have power and they'll be crashing here for the next day or so. Hide the toys and the porn, Mom's coming!

And last but not least (because the frantic search for all things outlandish isn't done), let me just say how EXTREMELY glad I am that I got gas before the storm because the lines to all of the open and functioning gas stations is causing traffic jams. Seriously! Sometimes, I CAN be practical and it DOES work out!

More after the dust has settled...

Thursday, September 18, 2003

a NEW target

When we last found Heather blogging/bitching about wedding proposals, she was blaming Ken and Colleen for their engagement. Well, it's your lucky day kids because Heather's found a new Big Bad Voodoo Daddy to blame: The Learning Channel. That's right, good old TLC talking about the lengths that some men will go to to continue having TLC in their lives. Especially their newest show Perfect Proposal. It's unbelievable the tall buildings that dude was willing to leap in order to show his love for this woman. And then all of her friends and family start talking about the woman and how wonderful she is, and that makes every single one of them get choked up and teary. So, seeing all these women getting choked up about the almost-bride makes ME all teary and vahklempt and I'm all rooting for the girl to be really surprised and happy. Of course, she is. Of course, she says yes. Of course, she realizes just how much trouble the dude went to to do all this for her and she starts to feel guilty for getting drunk and making out with his best friend that time. (just kidding, it wasn't really his best friend -- just some guy he plays golf with once in a while.)

[Sidenote: I wonder just how many people will think that the last reference is about something Heather's actually done. DMK note: "I'm not going to answer the question, because it's a question they shouldn't be asking!!"]

Anyways -- if anything is going to make a woman yearn for happily ever after, it's a show entirely based on the big lead-up to the BIG question. Will ya or won'cha? And can I get an answer before the game comes on??

Picture that only a LOT more romantic, and that's the show. Just another Hallmark reminder that every event must be marked by big ceremony and symbolism. Another something to instill in us that we need to hit that mark and we need to hit it NOW! All I can say boys is if you can't stand the heat, you better find a house that ain't got a kitchen!!


Wednesday, September 17, 2003

but enough about you, let's talk about ME!

One of my absolute favorite things about myself is my never-ending source of optimism. Particularly about my own ability to follow through with things. No matter HOW many times I disappoint myself by failing to do this, that or the other whenever an occasion comes up for me to start something (that I will NOT finish) I never fail to go blindly forward as if I hadn't been down this exact same road before.

For example. In case you're living under a rock (and let's hope it's a heavy one because otherwise even your rock will be blown away), you are no doubt aware that there is a hurricane headed this way. The East Coast, that is. Virginia, specifically for you nosy bastards who want to know where I live. (Why all the hostility, Heather -- what's THAT about??) My work is closing down at noon today and will likely be closed tomorrow. I'm faced with an unprecedented amount of free time locked up in my house. (Well, in my Daddy's house as we are all aware.) And me, with my staunch optimism, I'm mentally planning projects. Like organizing my photos into an album. A project I have been thinking about since, I don't know, Christmas when I received the lovely album from Daddy to start this project. I've had 9 months to work this out and YET, have not. AND YET, now because there is a hurricane a-coming, I believe that I will be holed up in the condo lovingly sliding photos into protective plastic sleeves. Let's get real. I'm probably going to be drinking and otherwise occupied until such time that I have to return to work on Friday or Saturday. And still, I cannot seem to get the idea out of my head that I should bring the pictures over to his house just in case. Yeah. I'm also going to read War and Peace , clip out all those magazine articles I've been meaning to save in a 3-ring binder, balance my checkbook, and lots of other really unrealistic projects. Not sure why the reality that we'll be sitting around, playing cribbage and probably snarking at each other can't sink in but it can't.

Of course, now that I see in black and white what I think the reality really WILL be like, maybe it makes a tad more sense why I'm planning projects!! ;-)

more on the joys of non sequitur

Do you suppose they deliberately use ugly people in some infomercials so you will find them more believable? If they're ugly, they don't seem like pre-paid actors, do they? Why would people this ugly lie?? What's the point?

Also, has anyone else noticed that on the rare occasion when MTv happens to have videos that they run a streaming reminder that you're watching Music Television? Apparently they think you could not figure this out if you were ACTUALLY, I don't know, watching music. On television. Like it used to be?? Or am I REALLY showing my age by admitting that I can remember when you could watch MTv and there was all videos. Some shows, but mostly just videos. They even killed the radio star, remember??

Well, I'll be evacuating my home to the no-safer haven of my boyfriend's house. He thinks it's safer and frankly, I don't want to be bored if/when the lights go out so I agreed. Just think of the hours I'll be able to wile away, nagging him to tears. That's fun for everyone, isn't it?

As a true testimony for my hurricane readiness, I braved the approaching oceanfront last night to dine at a Japanese steakhouse! And while in the area, I picked up an emergency supply of wine-colored short boots. After all, you've got to be stylish when you're trapped at home due to torrential rainstorms and high winds. Your Hurricane Heather fall fashion line will be in stores as soon as they've removed the boards from the windows...

Y'all take care now and always remember -- DUCK AND COVER! ;-)


Tuesday, September 16, 2003

While You Were Out -- and not checking the Blog...

I've made some changes. Added the guest book (SIGN THE GUESTBOOK, damnit) and finally figured out how to get one damned link up. I think I might know how to get more but I can only go so far into this process without feeling like a complete and utter dumb-ass and frankly, if you must leave my blog for another I would prefer to direct you to my favorite one, Rabbit. Mainly because (and this is blatant sucking up, I fully admit) I love the Rabbit blog and it/she is what inspired me to really get blogging myself.

Not that there's been much benefit to me espousing all of my crap on the internet to anyone other than me, but then again -- I never claimed that is was ABOUT anyone other than me, so no harm no foul as they say.

Is that a basketball phrase?? Where did that come from?

And more importantly, why don't I take more time to wonder where all of these kind of phrases come from??

Well, because I have to dry my hair and go run errands and I haven't got time for the inane!


Monday, September 15, 2003

No, no, no -- and did I mention not very likely?

This is the phrase that came out of my mouth a lot today. Mainly because there's a hurricane fixin' to hit this here East coast and seems like all of a sudden folks started getting a clue on just how important renters insurance is. Duh. That's all well and good but we've got to protect the folks who've already realized how important renters insurance is, so we're sure not gonna be able to take care of you.

Mostly that went surprisingly well. After sitting on hold for God knows how long and then being told that what they were waiting for was NOT going to happen, most people took it fairly well. That is un-til I got to talk to Mr. 23 year old Genius who was just insisted that he deserved a renters policy and that he had been trying to get one for two week but every single time (every SINGLE time, ladies and gentlemen) he called he got transferred around, put on hold for two hours and then the call was disconnected. AND YET, ladies and gentlemen, somehow not only was his wife able to get through this morning only to be told that coverage was suspended -- he himself was able to get through AGAIN tonight in order to berate me with his dissatisfaction with my company. Amazing, isn't it? Hasn't been able to get a single call in over the last two weeks without getting disconnected and today his family as a unit got through twice. I told him flat out I found it hard to believe. He then went through the entire list of all of his current personal problems -- his car loan people keep losing all of his money orders (oh my GOD if I had even one cent for every time I heard this when I was in collections, I would be a million-friggin-aire) and so he can't get a new car even though his car's too small for his two kids. He's in the process of moving ALL of his stuff (which we won't even cover) and he's already made 4 trips and he's still got two more just tonight. He's got knee problems and his wife has some kind of cystic something in her stomach and the doctor's don't even KNOW what that is. Wow. Sure not sure what this has to do with his lack of renters coverage but I decided not to bring it up and used the time to roll my eyes all the way into the back of my head.

It's not that I don't care, it's just that I really don't care.

I tried to reason with him finally. I asked him -- what if it were YOUR money. What if you received all kinds of calls just before a major natural disaster was supposed to occur asking you to potentially give up a lot of your money IF the major natural disaster occurred, which was a very strong probability?? He still didn't buy it and I gave up. Told him as soon as we were allowed to issue coverage again that I would call him and take care of it myself.

With any luck, he'll have been blown away.

Kidding, I'm kidding.

This hurricane hype kills me every time and I know one day I'm going to be victimized by my own unpreparedness and it serves me right. I don't have tons of water in my house but that's okay -- Scout does. And I don't have tons of food in my house, but that's okay -- Daddy does. And I don't have tons of beer in my house but that's okay -- Mr. Kahlua does. So, as long as I can swim outta here if the fit hits the shan, then it's all good!

That's the blog and I'm outta here! Duck & cover!

Sunday, September 14, 2003

warning: soft core porn to follow

Last episode of Sex & the City and all I have to say is MEOW! I don't know about the rest of y'all but seeing that much sexual tension on-screen made me think back on the early days of my relationship with Daddy... Remember those days, girls? In the very beginning. Where he wants you so bad and you want him so bad and that's not much else you can think about besides that but you're grinning at each other like idiots because you don't want to cave first. And the kisses that start out chaste and demure that gradually build and build til there's a fire burning in you so bad you can't even see. He'll touch that spot on your neck and you'll run your fingers up his leg. Remember those times? You both knew it was going to be SO good, but you didn't want to give in. You wanted to hold on and hold out for that very first time. And he can just look at you a certain way and you know what he wants and you only know because you want it more. Remember the very first really deep embrace where he pulls you in tighter and tighter and the kisses grow deeper and more longing and you know this is TROUBLE and you don't even care. "If this is Trouble," you think, "I don't EVER wanna be out of trouble again! Bring on the trouble!"

Yeah. Meow. You know, I think it's important to keep the man in your life that did that to you. Man can look across the room at you in just a certain way and YOU KNOW he's thinking about what he's gonna do to you later that night when you get home... And YOU KNOW it's gonna be good. That, my friends, is a man I keep around. That's a man that's got game, you know what I'm saying?

not so much porn-y here

So, it's just as well that Sex & the City is ending temporarily because clearly the tension it works up in me is enough to power a small city. Like Detroit.

And yes, I cried when Steve and Miranda kissed and was despondent when Charlotte lost the baby. I'm only human!

Bragging Rights and other Non Sequitur stuff

"Have you bogged lately?" asked a well-meaning friend.

Er, no. It's blog, but no. I haven't.

Here are some rationalizations. I should be studying for class. (Instead, I was reading Watermelon by Marian Keyes -- which is fabulously wonderful, but we know I think this about almost every book I read.) I should be doting on my boyfriend. (Who is currently at his best friend's house, yelling at football games, with a vague recollection of my name and place in his life.) I should be cleaning my house and putting away laundry. (Unfortunately, I have discovered a Yahoo! game called Stop and Pop or something and I can't seem to tear myself away to PEE, let alone anything really relevant like cleaning my house and paying bills.) Speaking of which, I should be paying my bills. (I took the time away from my game to balance my checkbook and realized I have no money. Solved that problem!)

Not sure why I haven't been blogging. I went to the wine festival yesterday and heard that I had a really good time. I wouldn't know, I was really really drunk. Note to self for next year: sample all the wine FIRST, then buy a bottle or two. Turns out, if you drink a bottle of wine shortly after arriving -- you don't get so interested in having little sips after that.

Today, got a pedicure with my girlfriend as a birthday present to her. Love those kind of gifts because then I get to participate too! (Note to girlfriend -- you DEFY nicknames, please choose a suitable one for your web anonymity.) How about EZ Bake? ;-) Anyways, I wound up with little flowers on my toes which are VERY cute, but frankly -- you can't tell they are flowers until you are at the level to suck my toes and seriously, who's ever going to get that close? And no, I do NOT have it that good with S. It would take really strong medicine to get him interested in sucking on my feet. It's not a character flaw, per se, I just don't think it would occur to him to do it.

In other news, I realized today that as much as I prattle on about all kinds of various things in my life that I also carry some guilty feelings when things are going well and I'm really and truly feeling happy. As if I don't deserve periods of time in my life where everything is good and good things are happening to me. Like work going smoothly and S & I just being generally pretty content with one another (well, on every day that isn't Sunday)... I suppose I should modify that and say that I am generally pretty content with him, I can't REALLY speak for his level of contentment with me. Perhaps he's miserable and bottling it away til he gets his own, secret blog where it's Inside Daddy's Head -- the Truth about that weirdo Heather but... I really kinda doubt that. And then, when r e a l l y cool things happen that I want to shout from the rooftops, I really feel bad. Because it's so awesome that I know I'm bragging about it, but damn I can't help bragging because I'm


And who wouldn't want to brag about that?? Especially little old me who never friggin' gets to go anywhere and now I have this whole cruise thing that's being paid for by my boyfriend's mom and it just rocks. S says that just means that I gotta be on my toes between now and then and I say -- up his bucket. Go ahead, dump my ass -- the ticket's paid for so I'm going no matter what. He could dump me in cold, cruel fashion (just before Christmas-time, say) and hang me in effigy and I wouldn't care. He'd still be sharing the cabin with me and snorkelling in Bermuda right next to me because there's no way I'm missing out on that!! I'm so excited, I may even join a gym!

Anyways. I really don't have anything else to BOG about, so I'm gonna go visit my addictive game and then make a run for Target.


PS: Curly Sue -- I couldn't work out the jaybird reference, and anyways it's not true anymore. Hope you find that comforting!

Thursday, September 11, 2003

A Tale of Too Skinnies

[Kahlua -- I think I may be in the market for a headline writer, you interested?]

I had the most terrible realization while driving home today. I have a :::gasp::: PREJUDICE! And against what minority do I bear this affliction?? Skinnies. That's right -- skinny people suck ass! I said it, I meant it -- what're you gonna do about it?

The worst part? Most of my closest friends are skinny people! How did this happen? Because I really don't like skinny people on general principle most of the time. Anyone that can order McDonald's fries and not have to order a shake too cannot be trusted. Anyone that FORGETS to eat has got serious issues that you should not have in your life. We're talking about people who make beanpoles look like telephone poles -- skinnnnneeee. If you can order a child's portion in a restaurant and still have leftovers, you might be too thin.

I'm not sure how this prejudice came about though, but I do know that I naturally don't trust people who don't even weigh enough to donate blood. After all, where am I going to get a supply otherwise if I ever need a major operation?? C'mon y'all -- eat more, help save my life!

So, it's sad. I bi-pass alot of potential friend candidates because they can't compete in my weight division. This seems like a big waste to me because I'm sure that skinny people have just as much to offer as people in the well-rounded group -- I just can't imagine what it is. After all, we couldn't share long, fun dinners together. She'd be full after salad and I'd just be getting warmed up. Priming the pump, as it were. And then, we couldn't go shopping together either. I'd feel weird hanging out while she purchased clothes in the children's department and she'd get lost in the flaps of the tents that I call my clothes. And we definitely couldn't take a fun, sunny vacation together because she'd have to keep rescuing me after the mobs tried to push me back into the ocean. And to make matters worse -- she wouldn't be able to donate blood to save my whaley ass because she wouldn't have remembered to eat lunch all week and wouldn't weigh enough to donate blood!

Another one bites the dust... No, honey -- it's a no dust week this week! Just dew -- morning dew.

Guess I'm still working out that prejudice thing, but I mean no harm my slinky sisters....

Tuesday, September 09, 2003

Commercial angst

I have been meaning to blog about this for the longest time and have never gotten around to it. But now that I am currently procrastinating on doing a dreaded homework assignment, I'm feeling free to blog away!!

There's this commercial (that I was watching while utilizing procrastination time to watch Queer Eye for the Straight Guy) that really makes the hair stand up on the back of my neck it irks me so much. There's this man and woman whom I am assuming are a somewhat long-term married couple. They're on vacation somewhere that has a "square" -- you know, a big sweeping location with lots of old, historical looking buildings and birds everywhere, like something out of Hitchcock. There are other, ostenstibly uptight foreigners, around. And the man says to the woman, "There's something I have to do..."

She responds with bemused look.

And he sweeps around this square yelling at the top of his voice, "I LOVE THIS WOMAN, I LOVE THIS WOMAN!"

And the woman is mortified. Shushes him. Literally, shushes. And he is placated and he comes up to her and says, "This will just have to say it for me."

Of course, it's this big huge diamond anniversary band (you know, the one with the three stones to symbolize the past, the present and the future). And she hugs him and WHISPERS, "I love this man. I love this man."

This commercial pisses me off each and every time I see it. For new reasons each time. What, you only love him because he gave you diamonds, but not when he has the cajones to yell out IN PUBLIC that he loves you? Love is something to be embarrassed by? It's not something you should shout about? And then after he gives you this whomping gift (which probably cost about as much as my annual salary) all you can do is WHISPER that you love him?!?! Are you friggin' kidding me? Seriously. It's just wrong.

Here are some of life's rules, brought to you by Heather the Self-righteous. If someone loves you enough to yell about it in public, appreciate that. Even if you are not a PDA kinda person, who the fuck cares? That takes a lot of courage of conviction of feeling and it's not to be undermined and never ever EVER to be "shushed." Don't wait til they give you a big hunk of diamonds to tell them you love them back, life's too short and not everyone can afford big hunks of diamonds. There were lots of birds in that scene, Tippi Hedren -- speak up. You never know when you tell someone you love them and it turns out to be for the last time. And then, if someone gives you a big gift, go out of your way to thank them. Loudly. Even if you are in public. Are those ostensibly uptight foreigners going to have you arrested?? I think not. And a big gift does not have to entail big hunks of diamonds -- lots of people can love you and not have big hunk of diamond money and it's just that simple. If you want big hunky diamonds, make sure you fall in love with someone who can provide them. And if you didn't happen to fall in love with someone who can do that for you, then damn it -- remember that too!

It's NOT all about the Benjamins and it sure as shit ain't all about the ::bling:: -- it's about love, baby. Because without it you're standing all alone in Uptight Foreigner Square and how boring would that be??


PS: Is it just me or was the wife on this episode of Queer Eye a bee-yatch or WHAT??

Saturday, September 06, 2003

"Lovingston Cafe reports record sales after blond's blog"

I'm reporting LIVE (mostly) from Charlottesville where I'm spending the weekend with HP2, whom I have ALREADY worn out at 8pm with my double shots of gin -- bwa ha ha! Now the laptop is mine, all mine I tell you!

Unfortunately, I get little thrill from absconding the laptop because its ease of handling is just TOO easy for me. Where's the extra number buttons at? Where's the mouse at? Duhhhh... Someday I could get used to being this lax while working on the computer but the easy-breezy keyboard is a little TOO stress-free for me. I like to get a workout with my typing! Lord knows its the only one I get!

I went hiking today. No, you haven't stumbled onto the wrong blog -- this is me, Heather. New and improved. Hiking Heather, we call her. (Doesn't that just sound like one of Barbie's friends??) (Did I mention that I too had double shots of gin?) Besides, it was just a mini-hike. Up to Crabtree Falls, or I think that's what the sign said. I don't know -- couldn't see much over my blurred vision and the huffing and puffing was causing me to see things in triplicate. But I made it to the top of the falls without TOO much complaining (hell, HP2 doesn't have a blog so it's not like you'll ever know!) and it really was gorgeous. Apparently, 23 people have died from trying to climb the rocks near the falls, but I think they were just looking for a faster way down than climbing. And really, how often do they update those signs?? 23 people since WHEN? If that's since people first started coming to the falls, well that's not that many people really. Statistically, probably at least one of you reading this will be dead by next year. (Have you considered your life insurance needs? Have you considered writing your will and including me in it? Supporting the blog and all that??) And even it hasn't been since the beginning of the falls visits, let's just say it's been in the last 10 years. Well, that's only like 2.3 people a year, right? Or maybe it was a big group of 23 people who were all climbing the rocks at the same time, for a kitschy group shot and then :::BAM::: went tumbling to their untimely group demise -- what's the harm there? After all, they've all got each other in the afterlife, haven't they? Except for the poor schmuck taking THAT picture! Bet he never gets anyone to gather in poses anymore -- "no, no -- JUST the Grand Canyon, no people!"

But I morbidly digress... After our mini-hike, HP2 announces that she must have red meat and since she was starting to eye me a little too closely, we decided to go to the aptly named Lovingston Cafe in -- surprise! -- Lovingston. It stems off of an auto parts store but we decided not to be dissuaded by that like some of her previous companions, not as cools as I. There was NO one there and we weren't too sure they were even open until we rather ingeniously noted the neon OPEN sign in the window. We staggered in and were directed to a nice little table on the OPEN patio. They didn't have steak on the lunch menu, but the burgers were sounding appealing ensconced in the fabulous array of menu options so we both ordered our own favorite, Pricess-version of the burger. (Myself, cheeseburger with a side salad -- aka "greens" and HP2 mushroom-swiss with the standard fries but with BBQ sauce for dipping.) Since the waitress spoke so highly of the scallops and the oysters (both fried) we managed to get her to drum up an appetizer version of those as well. The scallops were AWESOME but as good as the oysters are, I definitely prefer them in a non-fried variety. Shortly after, the burgers arrived and I am here to tell you that it's not just because I was starving -- the burgers were kick-ass amazing! Somehow both well-done and yet moist and tender. I've never seen that happen. They required almost no chewing, which defies explanation. The BBQ sauce that came with HP2's fries was so good it was worth eating by itself -- I have never in my life tasted sauce that so completely captured the smoky essence of barbecue. It was so good you just didn't want it to be over. As Daddy would say, it was so good it would make you want to smack your momma in the mouth! (No, I don't know what this means either.) We were in heaven, just grinning and smacking and eating. And just when it was over and we were replete with our satisfaction, the waitress (or Angel really) came and offered dessert. We thought we were obliging her by asking her what the desserts were, even after our amazing seafood and burger experience still expecting something crappy and dull -- like a fruit cup or jello or vanilla OR chocolate ice cream... MAYBE apple pie a la mode. Nope, Milky Way Pie and Volcano Cake and Eclair Cheesecake... I had the Milky Way thing and HP2 had the Volcano Cake (aka sin -- chocolate cake filled with chocolate fudge with whipped cream on top) and then we died. I not only wanted a cigarrette after the meal, I wanted a cigar. It was just incredible. I wanted to find the chef and kiss him on the MOUTH. In fact, I was very tempted to offer him any other favors but decided my Daddy wouldn't look too kindly on that! (Then again, if he had eaten the meal I had just eaten, he may well have done the same thing!)

Lovingston Cafe in Lovingston, Va -- motto: never overlook a restaurant just because its attached to an auto parts store!

And now, HP2 is roused and we're gonna get girl-i-fied and hit the town and rope us some frat boys! Er, I mean we're gonna sit home and read the Bible to one another all night. ;-)

Soon to be....

Thursday, September 04, 2003

Save your blogs -- recycle them!

I'm so boring and repetitive I can't even come up with new blog themes. Because I think I wrote about this a while ago... But who cares? I love Thursdays. There's just something about the scent of the weekend in the air to jumpstart my mood. Even with football on.

Actually, let's go THERE instead of Thursdays. I hate to say it but I'm already over football and it's only just begun. Well, that's the party line anyway. I'm not quite certain how something that has been on my friggin' tv every night for the last month is "just" beginning, but I guess I'm just an illogical female. Because that's how they push it -- it's so special because it's only on for a few months, not like basketball and hockey which never really seem to end. I think this is a bunch of crap because it's been on since the beginning of August and it's going on through the end of January, so where I come from that's six months. That's half the year! How is this such a short, bittersweet time? Hell, in the past if I was in a relationship that lasted that long I thought I was doing well! (And trust, I wasn't doing well very often -- but that's another blog.)

And then I get the well, you can't COUNT that because it's pre-season and those guys are just second-string wannabe's anyways

Then why are you watching it?

Don't you need to go buy some shoes or something?

And then, of course, you can't really count all that crap in January because THAT'S post-season, silly girl. That's the play-offs.

I think if I understood why people get SO excited about sports, then maybe I would not be so bitter about it. But I don't. There's lots of stuff I get excited about, but not to the exclusion of all other things. I get that it's fun and exciting but I don't understand why it's worth OBSESSING over. You can't tell me when our anniversary is or what my favorite color is, but you know how many points Brett Favre or Ricky Williams got (or whatever they get) last week??

And worse than the fact that I hate football, I hate that I hate football. I wish I liked it. I wish I could get into it and get excited that it was coming on. The fact that I hate it as much as I do (and always have) just is another example of me turning into my mother. And I love my mother but I don't want to BE my mother. But what can I do? It's not like I can just wake up one day and suddenly decide to really be into football. That would be like trying to start smoking when you're 40 -- you don't have a bad habit, why would you start?

See. There I go again! Calling football a bad habit like it's crank or something. It's ridiculous. It's just a game. It didn't do anything to me!

All right. I'm gonna go pack now. Heading to C-ville for the weekend, which I believe I mentioned. Y'all have a good weekend and I'll blog at you soon!

more on randomness

>Scandanavians don't make good batteries. When Daddy and I went to Ikea a few weeks ago, I had him buy me some batteries because I was running low and my toothbrush wasn't giving me good vibes. Ikea batteries suck. Yeah. I said it, yeah I used their name. Bring on the slander suits, baby! My wireless mouse has been giving me nasty-grams about its batteries dying, so I finally replaced 'em with some Ikea batteries. Suck. Two sets of batteries and the mouse wouldn't even jiggle, put in some slightly used Energizers and :::BAM::: we got the juices flowing again. Love that bunny!

>You can watch too much E! tv. They're now showing Melrose Place in the mornings, and it turns out its just as inexplicably addictive now as it was 10 years ago. Kimberly ran over Michael and Sidney got framed. But Jane needs Michael to sign a business contract or she loses a big fashion deal. Billy started working at D&D because of Amanda's pushing just as whatshername gets back from dealing with confronting her father over his past sexual abuse. Heavy stuff, man.

>You know, I almost never write checks for anything anymore. I pay by phone or the internet or have stuff automatically withdrawn. Turns out some people are still happy to get their check in the mail and I'm a little stuck now because I'm waiting for my order to come. Oops!

>You know you're broke when you're cashing in your change jar just to have an extra $30 pocket money. It's not I'm THAT broke but I've been actively trying to avoid dipping any further into my mostly depleted savings account and I've got a week to go til payday and I'm taking a mini-break this weekend. Luckily, I've got a closet STUFFED with liquor so me and HP2 should still be able to have a rousing time, even on a limited budget.

That's all for now.
random acts of blogging

You know it's bad when I can't even remember the password to get on here... And it's not even gonna be good because it's after midnight and I have a serious case of the munchies. (No, not THAT kind.)

Here are some random things that have bounced through my head...

> I don't want to be old. Old people look weird, they talk weird, and they don't remember anything. And they are stubborn. They can't seem to get with the program and realize that time is moving and they need to move with it. That's how they got old -- they just stopped refusing to move with time. Maybe it's gravity that causes that strange old people distorted body thing. Inertia, more likely. Was talking to my Godmother about father in law and how not only will he not use the ATM, he won't even use the drive-up teller. The drive-up teller for God's sake! It's an actual person sitting there, waiting for your money and whatnot, what could go wrong there? He was aghast at the idea and said he'd have to go IN to the bank and Godmother was saying that that would be awfully inconvenient for the person who was TAKING him to the bank. I said not when you think about the fact that another 80-something year old person will be taking him and would probably be equally as horrified at the suggestion that you conduct banking business at the drive up teller. He'd probably keel over by the fact that I do ALL of my banking online, including paying a lot of my bills.

>Power went out at work tonight. Nothing like a little outage to make you fully appreciate just how much you need your damned computer to do even the simplest things at work. All the incoming calls get routed to another area and we just sat there in near darkness staring at each other waiting for it to hit 8pm so we could leave. And then there was this BIG panic up on the fourth floor (my floor) because the managers were convinced that we wouldn't be able to leave the building because of the security gates. I was disturbed that this was coming from people who are supposed to be in charge. Do they think there's no emergency contigency for that kind of thing?? Did they think we were going to gather in the lobby and sing Kumbayah while we waited for someone to come pry the doors open and rescue us? It was frightening that they honestly believed that. Frantically trying to get a number for security to find out how we were gonna get out. I was just like screw that and walked downstairs. Seriously, what if there were a fire?? Would we all have to line up at the turnstiles and swipe our cards before we could leave the burning building?? Hel-LO?

>Dido has a new song out. I was going to write about how I think it's odd that she has this whole sweet-sounding song that's really about having a smothering, addictive obsession with your ex, but today Curly Sue pointed out that she thinks her name looks like Dildo and that was lots funnier.

>My class is going well (thanks for asking) but all of this self-examination crap is the pits. Last night in about an hour I had to examine both my early childhood and stuff that happened in my marriage and was basically so depressed I just wanted to eat a gallon of ice cream and then curl up with my teddy bear. Instead I picked a fight with Daddy.

>Kids, Daddy and I are snarking at each other a little lately but it doesn't mean that we don't love each other anymore. We won't be getting a divorce, so you don't have to worry about losing us. Of course, we can't get divorced because we're never getting married but I'm not bitter about that. No sirree. Darn that Ken and Colleen for stirring up all this wedding crap -- everyone was fine before that! And yeah, I'm using their real names because they don't read this crap anyway and even if they did it's not like I'm really upset that they're getting married! It's just kicking up some dust for those of us unmarried folks and start looking at our men with a more critical eye. Fellas, if you're reading -- we don't want proposals here, but a couple extra "don't you look GREAT todays" and "have you lost weight?" and "can I get you some sushi" and "I think you should buy MORE shoes" comments here and there are really REALLY going to go a long way to help you out through this time frame...

>> side blog: Why don't men understand that when one of their girlfriend's friends gets engaged or married that they are immediately in trouble? As soon as they hear about this phenomenon, why doesn't it occur to them to either hit the hills running fast or hit the sentimental card aisle at Hallmark or something? It's like they're swimming with sharks with a bloody juicy leg and they don't even realize it. How is this possible? It's kind of like PMS on a really grand scale. Especially when the couple in question gets engaged after a brief courtship. Because the non-proposed-to women are looking around like we can't believe it's happening. What is REALLY going on? we wonder. How is she getting married to him when she's only known him for as long as it's been since the last time me and my man last had sex?? It's not even that we want to be married or engaged or whatever, we just are damned curious as to why HE doesn't want that. With us.

And on that note, I am outtie!

-HP (that's capital HP for those who are taking score of that kind of thing)

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