So while I'm on here whining and divaing, I'm still not sure what I should be doing. And not just in general. What do I want to do with my life? I'm in Indy now, but this is just a temp promotion. It isn't supposed to last. It is one more checkmark in my favor that says, 'Why, yes, we think this chick can do this job.'
The question is will this job make me happy?
I'm also working out, almost daily. Trying to eat smaller portions. I haven't seen any weight loss yet, except for a little more room in my bra. I'm going to keep up with it. I have to. I hate the way I look. I hate my size. I want to be healthier. I want to lose some freaking weight. But, how do I keep up with it when I get home? The eliptical is doing alright, but when I move too fast it freaks out. And, I shouldn't do it at 5 am because that isn't cool for the downstairs neighbor. I ran, though, today on the treadmill. Not for long and not balanced, but I did run. And not give up the machine when there was a line. I'm literally bigger than they are darnit. I think I need it more.
My friend Matt is coming in today. Actually I think it is more blowing through town. Either way I'll take him to dinner and then wave as he leaves me. Cause I'm cool like that. And I'll be alone in Indy again.
There is no clear path. There is no sign saying to walk this way. And forget about the yellow brick road. I don't know what to do to make me happy and I don't know if I'll ever know. Is it a partner? Is it a closer friend?
I'm depressing myself. Matt is almost here. We'll grab a bite and then he can get to St Lou.
Saturday, August 17, 2013
I want to be an Air Force Ranger
Have I mentioned life is weird? Another week, another attempt at being a grown up and doing the right thing and failing miserably.
First: work hasn't been awful, right up until yesterday. There is a lot of paperwork and pulse checking with employees and making sure they are doing their damn job. Big dog meeting in St. Lou on Tuesday. Walking with managers in between and then the guy who is my boss before this temporary promotion calls me Friday to hand me my ass on something I didn't do a couple of months ago. I wish I could say I thought fast on my feet and was witty and a bit derisive to him, but I swear I was just driving with my mouth hanging open. Then he has the balls to send snarky texts later. I was so frustrated. I actually gave thought to leaving the company. Friends jumped in later and pulled my head out of my own ass. All in all a 12 hour day feeling ticked off.
And then what should have been the best part of the night. I'm all snuggled in bed in the hotel and my old friend texts me. I saw it coming. I wanted it to happen, I've missed him and like talking to him. We had great conversations about nothing and the past and the present. And then it got blue and then he called. We were on the phone again for 3 hours. Talking about nothing and everything and fantasies. And after we had gotten each other off, we start talking about his life and what's become of it. Whether or not he's happy. How much he loves his wife... well. Now that I think about it, I'm not sure he used those words. But he did mention that he is lucky to have her and that they are together and that they will be together forever. And he said if he thought I was going to go all Glenn Close and cook the rabbit he'd behave more.
Let me be clear, while I love him and always have, I'm not in love with him and can never picture us together. Having said that, we are the flip side of each other. We have this equal parts juvenile relationship, where all we do is insult each other, as well as comfort and prop each other up, stroke each other's egos and give advice. We were talking about my woeful lack of a love life, when he starts in about how good looking he is. Cause there is no ego on my boy. He said that guys are interested in me, I'm just not looking. And that my weight doesn't matter because I'm beautiful. And then says he knows this because he is good looking, even more good looking because he's been working out and has lost weight.
I sat straight up in bed. I was stunned. Couldn't believe it. It's 2 in the morning and I'm losing my damn mind calling him a hypocrite and a liar. He really didn't want me all those years ago, couldn't have if he was always preoccupied with weight. How safe is it to play with the fat girl who lives hours away? He denied that was how he felt, but I feel as stupid now as I did however many years ago. The one person who was supposed to be safe. The one person who was supposed to have my back and not stab me in it. Do I deserve it? I want to be sad. I want to be disappointed. Instead I'm just resigned.
But, perhaps it is for the best. There has to be a reason the past keeps biting me in the ass. I'm just not sure what that is.
First: work hasn't been awful, right up until yesterday. There is a lot of paperwork and pulse checking with employees and making sure they are doing their damn job. Big dog meeting in St. Lou on Tuesday. Walking with managers in between and then the guy who is my boss before this temporary promotion calls me Friday to hand me my ass on something I didn't do a couple of months ago. I wish I could say I thought fast on my feet and was witty and a bit derisive to him, but I swear I was just driving with my mouth hanging open. Then he has the balls to send snarky texts later. I was so frustrated. I actually gave thought to leaving the company. Friends jumped in later and pulled my head out of my own ass. All in all a 12 hour day feeling ticked off.
And then what should have been the best part of the night. I'm all snuggled in bed in the hotel and my old friend texts me. I saw it coming. I wanted it to happen, I've missed him and like talking to him. We had great conversations about nothing and the past and the present. And then it got blue and then he called. We were on the phone again for 3 hours. Talking about nothing and everything and fantasies. And after we had gotten each other off, we start talking about his life and what's become of it. Whether or not he's happy. How much he loves his wife... well. Now that I think about it, I'm not sure he used those words. But he did mention that he is lucky to have her and that they are together and that they will be together forever. And he said if he thought I was going to go all Glenn Close and cook the rabbit he'd behave more.
Let me be clear, while I love him and always have, I'm not in love with him and can never picture us together. Having said that, we are the flip side of each other. We have this equal parts juvenile relationship, where all we do is insult each other, as well as comfort and prop each other up, stroke each other's egos and give advice. We were talking about my woeful lack of a love life, when he starts in about how good looking he is. Cause there is no ego on my boy. He said that guys are interested in me, I'm just not looking. And that my weight doesn't matter because I'm beautiful. And then says he knows this because he is good looking, even more good looking because he's been working out and has lost weight.
I sat straight up in bed. I was stunned. Couldn't believe it. It's 2 in the morning and I'm losing my damn mind calling him a hypocrite and a liar. He really didn't want me all those years ago, couldn't have if he was always preoccupied with weight. How safe is it to play with the fat girl who lives hours away? He denied that was how he felt, but I feel as stupid now as I did however many years ago. The one person who was supposed to be safe. The one person who was supposed to have my back and not stab me in it. Do I deserve it? I want to be sad. I want to be disappointed. Instead I'm just resigned.
But, perhaps it is for the best. There has to be a reason the past keeps biting me in the ass. I'm just not sure what that is.
Saturday, August 10, 2013
Stitches for said Ass
Just to clarify, we did have a great conversation. It's a rare thing to be able to talk with someone that you haven't talked to in years and it feel like no time has passed.
Past bites man in ass
The oddest thing happened last night, and I'm not entirely sure what I should do with it, if anything.
First, background.
I have a friend I've known for 23 years. He and I have gone back and forth between friendship and some weird mutal sexual gratification, although always on the phone, never together. We've shared lots of things, and talked all the time. This was, however, about 15 years ago. The way I remember the conversation, I wanted to take it further and he spazzed, for lack of a better term. I was under the impression he was grossed out or upset because I wasn't (and still am not) the body type he really wants. He left and we didn't speak for about 8 years. We reconnected on facebook (as all people do eventually) and would message each other back and forth, but it was all fairly superficial. And, I should mention, he's married to someone who looks to be awesome.
Last night he was messaging me on fb, and suddenly gave me his phone number. We ended up talking for 5 hours. It was late, we ended talking about 3 am. We talked about everything. We talked about our friendship from earlier, we talked about why he walked away, we talked about his life now and we had an explicit conversation.
He said he hadn't talked to me because his wife was threatened by my relationship with him. Which didn't and actually still doesn't make sense to me. His wife is awesome. She's gorgeous, fit, successful and the best thing that has ever happened to him. And then he dropped the second bomb of the evening. He said that he didn't go through with any actions with me because he believed he would be punished by God. Oh, and he still thinks of me all the time.
Now, I've heard several reasons for people not wanting to sleep with me, but that is a new one. Surely there is no deity would prevent me from getting a piece?
The concept, however, that he believed and still believes that I'm beautiful flattened me. When he walked away from me I took it hard. I believed I wouldn't be loved because I'm way curvier than I'm supposed to be. I'm not housebound by any means, but I'm not fit either. It's become a self fulfilling prophecy. I've not found love, I've not trusted anyone with my feelings because I didn't want to be hurt again. I've not taken a chance on anything that would be realistic. I'm as alone as I feared I would be. And now, he comes back and says, Oops? Should've told you I was tripping and it had nothing to do with you?
I thought after last night he would sober up (he wasn't totaled, but obviously drinking) and send me a message apologizing and then drop out of sight. But, instead I get a message saying he had a great conversation and that it was worth it. And insisting he wants to find me a good woman since I went ahead and told him I'm bi. (Which wasn't a surprise to him, or anyone I've told).
But is the damage done? Where do I file this tidbit of info?
First, background.
I have a friend I've known for 23 years. He and I have gone back and forth between friendship and some weird mutal sexual gratification, although always on the phone, never together. We've shared lots of things, and talked all the time. This was, however, about 15 years ago. The way I remember the conversation, I wanted to take it further and he spazzed, for lack of a better term. I was under the impression he was grossed out or upset because I wasn't (and still am not) the body type he really wants. He left and we didn't speak for about 8 years. We reconnected on facebook (as all people do eventually) and would message each other back and forth, but it was all fairly superficial. And, I should mention, he's married to someone who looks to be awesome.
Last night he was messaging me on fb, and suddenly gave me his phone number. We ended up talking for 5 hours. It was late, we ended talking about 3 am. We talked about everything. We talked about our friendship from earlier, we talked about why he walked away, we talked about his life now and we had an explicit conversation.
He said he hadn't talked to me because his wife was threatened by my relationship with him. Which didn't and actually still doesn't make sense to me. His wife is awesome. She's gorgeous, fit, successful and the best thing that has ever happened to him. And then he dropped the second bomb of the evening. He said that he didn't go through with any actions with me because he believed he would be punished by God. Oh, and he still thinks of me all the time.
Now, I've heard several reasons for people not wanting to sleep with me, but that is a new one. Surely there is no deity would prevent me from getting a piece?
The concept, however, that he believed and still believes that I'm beautiful flattened me. When he walked away from me I took it hard. I believed I wouldn't be loved because I'm way curvier than I'm supposed to be. I'm not housebound by any means, but I'm not fit either. It's become a self fulfilling prophecy. I've not found love, I've not trusted anyone with my feelings because I didn't want to be hurt again. I've not taken a chance on anything that would be realistic. I'm as alone as I feared I would be. And now, he comes back and says, Oops? Should've told you I was tripping and it had nothing to do with you?
I thought after last night he would sober up (he wasn't totaled, but obviously drinking) and send me a message apologizing and then drop out of sight. But, instead I get a message saying he had a great conversation and that it was worth it. And insisting he wants to find me a good woman since I went ahead and told him I'm bi. (Which wasn't a surprise to him, or anyone I've told).
But is the damage done? Where do I file this tidbit of info?
Monday, August 05, 2013
Triple D has scarred me
Another productive type day for me. Well, productivish. I went to visit a store and decided not to beat the people that annoyed me. I feel that was a step in the right direction.
I was back on the treadmill this morning. I am all shades of proud of myself for that. I'd give myself a cookie, but that would be crazy ironic.
There is something to be said, however, for playing solitare on a conference call. You can write down the important things and then continue to fight the good fight against that damn spider.
I was back on the treadmill this morning. I am all shades of proud of myself for that. I'd give myself a cookie, but that would be crazy ironic.
There is something to be said, however, for playing solitare on a conference call. You can write down the important things and then continue to fight the good fight against that damn spider.
Sunday, August 04, 2013
Jumping the shark
Wow, I guess 5 years is a long time to lay off a blog, but I need to clear my head from all the extra in there.
A few updates... I'm currently in Indianapolis with a temporary promotion. I flew up here last week from Dallas, where I had moved last year. No friends in Dallas, absolutely no relationships in forever. I've gained and lost and regained the weight of a small 4th grader more times than I can count. My skin seems to think I'm going through puberty, no matter how many times I let it know that I'm not.
So a quick brag about today. I've was on the treadmill and walked 1.83 miles today. I usually don't walk that far. I'm so impressed with myself. My legs are killing me, but darnit, I'm proud of myself.
so, anyway, I'm in Indy, for a temporary promotion. It's a great opportunity for me to really prove myself. Now, all I have to do, is do well.
Ok, more updateage... I work for a different company now. I work for an arts and crafts company. It's been a good transition. I've had several good bosses, and have learned a lot. I have to admit that I feel like I'm flying by the seat of my pants. I'm trying to make sure that I'm doing well, but I'm doing it differently from the person I was 5 years ago.
I feel old. I'm not sure why. I stopped in Louisville yesterday to see old friends, but after a few hours I was ready to go. I'm not sure why I feel like a different person, but I feel older. I feel that what was acceptable for me a year ago, isn't the same thing today. I know I disappointed my friends, but I was more than ready to go back to the hotel. It was a 2 hour drive, but I wanted to get going. I feel like an ass for leaving, but ... I'm not sure how to explain it. I think I'm going through a transition. I'm changing, becoming more mature I think. What a scary thing to do.
A few updates... I'm currently in Indianapolis with a temporary promotion. I flew up here last week from Dallas, where I had moved last year. No friends in Dallas, absolutely no relationships in forever. I've gained and lost and regained the weight of a small 4th grader more times than I can count. My skin seems to think I'm going through puberty, no matter how many times I let it know that I'm not.
So a quick brag about today. I've was on the treadmill and walked 1.83 miles today. I usually don't walk that far. I'm so impressed with myself. My legs are killing me, but darnit, I'm proud of myself.
so, anyway, I'm in Indy, for a temporary promotion. It's a great opportunity for me to really prove myself. Now, all I have to do, is do well.
Ok, more updateage... I work for a different company now. I work for an arts and crafts company. It's been a good transition. I've had several good bosses, and have learned a lot. I have to admit that I feel like I'm flying by the seat of my pants. I'm trying to make sure that I'm doing well, but I'm doing it differently from the person I was 5 years ago.
I feel old. I'm not sure why. I stopped in Louisville yesterday to see old friends, but after a few hours I was ready to go. I'm not sure why I feel like a different person, but I feel older. I feel that what was acceptable for me a year ago, isn't the same thing today. I know I disappointed my friends, but I was more than ready to go back to the hotel. It was a 2 hour drive, but I wanted to get going. I feel like an ass for leaving, but ... I'm not sure how to explain it. I think I'm going through a transition. I'm changing, becoming more mature I think. What a scary thing to do.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
I know, I know...
Yea. It's been forever. Get over it.
I just need to take these few minutes to complain about things that friends are tired of hearing:
I just need to take these few minutes to complain about things that friends are tired of hearing:
- Capt. Optimism
- Food Poisoning
- My own inability to get off my ass and get shit done
- The stories in my head
We'll start with Capt. O. I recognize that he is having some issues of his own right now. His mom is ill and dying and he's the only child... It is hard and impossible for me to imagine what he is going through. However, it doesn't detract from the fact that he is chronically unable to call when he says he is going to or follow through on plans that he makes. Case in point? I was supposed to be camping with him this weekend. Right now we are supposed to be on a lake fishing. Not only did he forget that he made these plans (meanwhile I took the weekend off) but he can't even remember that we made alternate plans to go fishing either today or tomorrow. As I haven't heard from him in a week I'm going to have to guess that we aren't going, but damn it, at least tell me so. Would I be as annoyed if we were sleeping together? Probably not, maybe a little more, but how damn difficult is it to pick up the phone, send a text message, lob a brick through my windows?
And while it is probably a good thing that we didn't go as I'm still recovering from food poisoning I got last tuesday, it still irritates the hell out of me. Of course, that is another thing, how long does it take to recuperate from throwing up for 12 hours off and on? My stomach still doesn't feel right, if I do too much I feel like I'm dizzy and going to start throwing up all over again? Going to the grocery last night was an adventure that I didn't enjoy at all. ( I know it's gross, but that's why I can tell you - no one is actually reading this!) Where do you go for a timetable on being that sick? How long does it last? When will I feel better?
Which leads to getting me off my ass. I don't need to wait for anyone to go fishing with, or to a Triple A baseball game, etc, but I sure as hell don't want to go by myself. What's the point of going to anything like that if you can't share it with someone? I'm not looking for a lifelong committment here, just someone to enjoy myself with. But I'm too scared to do these things by myself. So the ultimate catch 22. I don't want to end up alone with no one in my life to enjoy the little things, but I'm frightened to go out on my own and meet the people I would be hanging out with. So I'm doomed to be alone wishing I was braver. Of course, I might be a little less depressing if I wasn't listening to My Chemical Romance, but the album is really good.
The only thing I have left is the stories I use to fill my head with before I go to sleep, when I'm standing in the shower, when I'm talking to people that bore me at work. I suppose to should start writing them down. I'm not sure why, maybe as an exercise. It will at least keep me away from the mindless crap on television and the refridgerator, but it isn't really easy in the end, is it? If it was easy to write, wouldn't everyone? Isn't everyone doing it know? Perhaps it is easier than I want to realize.
Before I forget. Let's do a little clean up as well. My writing back and forth with Chuckles ended fairly quickly. Did I make amends? Probably not, but not for lack of trying on my part. Capt. Jack however, I'm still out to lunch on that one. We write back and forth every week or so. Nothing truly revealing is given and but it isn't bullshit fluff either. I get the distinct impression he's been writing me when he's a little blue and bombed. A few weeks ago, after several intense emails I offered my number in case he needed someone to talk to. Which apparently was the wrong thing as he launches into this diatribe about how his wife wouldn't like it and blah blah blah. So, of course I hasten to inform him that I was just being support and had no interest in him romantically and respected his wife for everything she's done to keep a relationship together as it isn't really easy to do such a thing. I got one thing about the fact that he's helped keep the marriage stable and then nothing. This has been about a month now. Maybe I'm just inept at keeping friendships together. Is it possible to be a hermit in the middle of a suburb?
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Why haven't you tried this shortbread yet?
I have to admit, life just keeps getting weirder. I've been getting ready for a visit from one of the company bigwigs, only to find out that something more important has come up for him, like some dental work or something. I'm not sure, but I can openly admit that I'm cranky I've been worried about it and glad he isn't coming, because I'm not remotely ready.
Combine that with having no talent with money and always being worried that I'm going to be living in a cardboard box (don't ask I'm not sure I can explain it fully as I've never lived in a cardboard box...) so I keep throwing money at bills and trying not to spend money in my real life. Apparently this is where a budget would come in handy, but I never follow the damn thing.
So what happens you ask? Well, in one fell swoop this week, I got a wild hair up my rear and checked my weight. I have hit a new low (or is it high) and have finally touched the 300 mark. So I jumped on my treadmill, and started walking immediately (did I mention this is at 4 in the morning?) and as my treadmill started smoking, I realized I've probably woken the neighbors because my itunes are playing extremely loud so I can hear it over the treadmill. I saw my doc who told me that because i'm a compulsive eater, lap band surgery doesn't make a whole hell of a lot of sense and I get some adderol to help my ADHD and I get to see a nice lady with a couple of degrees so she can help me not eat. Of course, I've called her and she is on vacation and won't be able to see me for a month.
Meanwhile, I got my refund check (owning a house has great benefits by the by), proceeded to pay down credit cards, spend money on myself, including a nice new phone, the rumor by lg, some rings for my fingers because just because I'm actually fat doesn't mean I can't dress pretty, wear nice things or in general be a fabulous person. Bear in mind I don't know how to do some of those things but I'm working on it. So I feel really guilty about spending this money, and not doing something constructive so I took some of the wood I have in the garage for the fireplace, and a hatchet and decided I was going to split some of the wood down a little further. Half an hour later of some pretty good aerobic exercise, my wrist feels like I've sprained it, I've busted some of the brick on my patio and I only got a couple of logs actually worked because I should probably get something a little bigger.
And now I'm trying to get my house refinanced which will make my parents extremely happy and is something I hate to do because it deals with money. Oh well, I gave it to the lady who took care of me the first time. She said that with my good credit (don't ask, I'm not sure how that happened) I could probably lower my payment by about $100, which would be nice. We'll see. I don't think she knows I've been paying extra on the mortgage, so hopefully I can get it lowered a little more.
As for being a grump, you be celibate for two years and let me know how you feel later.
"You need to reread the email Carrie - I pretty much said that you were a gigantic ass who is engaged in colosal self-delusion in the way that you interact with others"- Smartass. I'm assuming you have a point, but I'm ignoring it because it made me laugh.
Other than that life has been running pretty much the same. Although I'm wearing one of my pretty new rings I just got, I still am going to have to work antoher 6 day work week this week, starting today when I go in a 3 p.m. I really need to clean the house a little more, but maybe I'll just go through it a room at a time.
Combine that with having no talent with money and always being worried that I'm going to be living in a cardboard box (don't ask I'm not sure I can explain it fully as I've never lived in a cardboard box...) so I keep throwing money at bills and trying not to spend money in my real life. Apparently this is where a budget would come in handy, but I never follow the damn thing.
So what happens you ask? Well, in one fell swoop this week, I got a wild hair up my rear and checked my weight. I have hit a new low (or is it high) and have finally touched the 300 mark. So I jumped on my treadmill, and started walking immediately (did I mention this is at 4 in the morning?) and as my treadmill started smoking, I realized I've probably woken the neighbors because my itunes are playing extremely loud so I can hear it over the treadmill. I saw my doc who told me that because i'm a compulsive eater, lap band surgery doesn't make a whole hell of a lot of sense and I get some adderol to help my ADHD and I get to see a nice lady with a couple of degrees so she can help me not eat. Of course, I've called her and she is on vacation and won't be able to see me for a month.
Meanwhile, I got my refund check (owning a house has great benefits by the by), proceeded to pay down credit cards, spend money on myself, including a nice new phone, the rumor by lg, some rings for my fingers because just because I'm actually fat doesn't mean I can't dress pretty, wear nice things or in general be a fabulous person. Bear in mind I don't know how to do some of those things but I'm working on it. So I feel really guilty about spending this money, and not doing something constructive so I took some of the wood I have in the garage for the fireplace, and a hatchet and decided I was going to split some of the wood down a little further. Half an hour later of some pretty good aerobic exercise, my wrist feels like I've sprained it, I've busted some of the brick on my patio and I only got a couple of logs actually worked because I should probably get something a little bigger.
And now I'm trying to get my house refinanced which will make my parents extremely happy and is something I hate to do because it deals with money. Oh well, I gave it to the lady who took care of me the first time. She said that with my good credit (don't ask, I'm not sure how that happened) I could probably lower my payment by about $100, which would be nice. We'll see. I don't think she knows I've been paying extra on the mortgage, so hopefully I can get it lowered a little more.
As for being a grump, you be celibate for two years and let me know how you feel later.
"You need to reread the email Carrie - I pretty much said that you were a gigantic ass who is engaged in colosal self-delusion in the way that you interact with others"- Smartass. I'm assuming you have a point, but I'm ignoring it because it made me laugh.
Other than that life has been running pretty much the same. Although I'm wearing one of my pretty new rings I just got, I still am going to have to work antoher 6 day work week this week, starting today when I go in a 3 p.m. I really need to clean the house a little more, but maybe I'll just go through it a room at a time.
Quick and Easy Cookies
I do have to tell you though, I was talking to my sister earlier and told her to send me a gigolo for my bday coming up, and she said that I should just go to a all male brothel to take out any extra energy. As we got into it, I let her know that I didn't have that kind of money just laying around, and she said I needed to take out a home equity loan. How's a girl supposed to phrase that exactly? "I really need to get some things nailed at the house"? "I've been looking for a good screw, but the screwdrivers I've been using keep failing after so many uses"? I'm sure I have to fill out a form of some kind.... Just not sure what I would say on it.
I cannot even begin to explain the big ass shit eating grin I had on my face when I read your email. I've missed you so much. Losing you and **** (who you may or may not remember, but i was so incredibly close to both of you) at the same time was nearly devastating. Mainly because you were a friend. I talked to you in ways I never spoke with lovers. I figured (and to a small point still do) that if I lose someone that I was sleeping with, then I could say they weren't interested in my body or the way I kissed, etc. If I lose a friend, then it has to do with me. There was something about me that they didn't like, or more to the point, they were rejecting me.
I'm not trying to lay any crap at your door. What happened was the best thing for both of us. I needed to stop leaning on others to get through my life. And I did. I grew up, started thinking with my head instead of whatever feeling was flitting through my body at the time and became someone that, for reasons unknown, others will listen to and do what I tell them to do. Although, to be honest, all of that is slowing killing my soul and I really believe that if I knew how to cook I could almost enjoy that.
Hmmm. How much of a book should I make this?
I, of course, still choose men "below my station in life" (what are they teaching you out there?) because I cannot believe that anyone who has the same brains that I do would want to be near me. Of course, I've also been single (again) for about 3 years. Which is also slowly killing me.
I've been putting in about 60 hours a week at work the last few weeks cause we are short handed, and my boss came in yesterday to walk and talk. One of the things he said is that he wants my assistants to spend time with their families and he wants me to spend time with my cats. I laughed cause there is nothing else to do, but how incredibly depressing is that?
Oh well. I have dated since I got out here, and I even have a Chemistry account, but I don't really like people so I'm thinking finding the person who I'm supposed to be with will be something of an uphill battle. But I'm also working on jumping head first into relationships just cause some guy smiles at me. So I guess it has been a self imposed exile of sorts. Not that I was overwhelming busy before I decided to lay off for a year.
Trust me. I know I have a good life. I co-own a house with a bank and they even let me live here. I've got about $20 worth of equity built up so that makes me feel like I'm going somewhere. I have friends in town and spread out all over the country. When people talk about me, it is generally with a smile and a laugh and that is a good thing. I've traveled out of the country, experienced massive jet lag and fallen asleep in a hotel lobby with strangers all around me. My health, for the most part is good. I've never been skinny, but I'm by no means housebound by weight. I've been nesting though a little here, cooking up a storm for my employees at work; as well as making afghans left and right. I'm still working too much, but I know that at the end of February I can lay off a little.
It sucks that I'm by myself out here for the most part. I have friends, but they are all people I work with and no one I would just drop over to their house and chill. I am terribly lonely. The cats simply don't make for good conversationalists and I'm not sure if I know how to have a normal conversation with anyone. Chalk it all up to getting older in a week or so. When I was younger, I went to see a psychic of sorts. She read my cards and read my stars and said I was going to find my soul mate when I was 34. Every time something fell through I could always fall back on the fact that I was going to meet mine when I was 34. Well, I'm almost done with 34 and I haven't met mine. And I'm not sure I will. If you look at it logically with all the men and women in the world, there isn't always the true love people hope for. Perhaps I'm not meant to meet mine this spin of the wheel.
I cannot even begin to explain the big ass shit eating grin I had on my face when I read your email. I've missed you so much. Losing you and **** (who you may or may not remember, but i was so incredibly close to both of you) at the same time was nearly devastating. Mainly because you were a friend. I talked to you in ways I never spoke with lovers. I figured (and to a small point still do) that if I lose someone that I was sleeping with, then I could say they weren't interested in my body or the way I kissed, etc. If I lose a friend, then it has to do with me. There was something about me that they didn't like, or more to the point, they were rejecting me.
I'm not trying to lay any crap at your door. What happened was the best thing for both of us. I needed to stop leaning on others to get through my life. And I did. I grew up, started thinking with my head instead of whatever feeling was flitting through my body at the time and became someone that, for reasons unknown, others will listen to and do what I tell them to do. Although, to be honest, all of that is slowing killing my soul and I really believe that if I knew how to cook I could almost enjoy that.
Hmmm. How much of a book should I make this?
I, of course, still choose men "below my station in life" (what are they teaching you out there?) because I cannot believe that anyone who has the same brains that I do would want to be near me. Of course, I've also been single (again) for about 3 years. Which is also slowly killing me.
I've been putting in about 60 hours a week at work the last few weeks cause we are short handed, and my boss came in yesterday to walk and talk. One of the things he said is that he wants my assistants to spend time with their families and he wants me to spend time with my cats. I laughed cause there is nothing else to do, but how incredibly depressing is that?
Oh well. I have dated since I got out here, and I even have a Chemistry account, but I don't really like people so I'm thinking finding the person who I'm supposed to be with will be something of an uphill battle. But I'm also working on jumping head first into relationships just cause some guy smiles at me. So I guess it has been a self imposed exile of sorts. Not that I was overwhelming busy before I decided to lay off for a year.
Trust me. I know I have a good life. I co-own a house with a bank and they even let me live here. I've got about $20 worth of equity built up so that makes me feel like I'm going somewhere. I have friends in town and spread out all over the country. When people talk about me, it is generally with a smile and a laugh and that is a good thing. I've traveled out of the country, experienced massive jet lag and fallen asleep in a hotel lobby with strangers all around me. My health, for the most part is good. I've never been skinny, but I'm by no means housebound by weight. I've been nesting though a little here, cooking up a storm for my employees at work; as well as making afghans left and right. I'm still working too much, but I know that at the end of February I can lay off a little.
It sucks that I'm by myself out here for the most part. I have friends, but they are all people I work with and no one I would just drop over to their house and chill. I am terribly lonely. The cats simply don't make for good conversationalists and I'm not sure if I know how to have a normal conversation with anyone. Chalk it all up to getting older in a week or so. When I was younger, I went to see a psychic of sorts. She read my cards and read my stars and said I was going to find my soul mate when I was 34. Every time something fell through I could always fall back on the fact that I was going to meet mine when I was 34. Well, I'm almost done with 34 and I haven't met mine. And I'm not sure I will. If you look at it logically with all the men and women in the world, there isn't always the true love people hope for. Perhaps I'm not meant to meet mine this spin of the wheel.
The quick and easy way
Instead of sitting here and trying to think of the crap I've been doing (which isn't really very interesting) I'll just drop some email in that I've sent out.
S'alright?
I've been in Louisville a little over three years now. I still don't like people so there isn't a lot of nightlife that I go and see. Which would be why I hung out with 4 other ladies who are all over retirement age for Halloween. I had a nice couple glasses of Bailey's while they got bombed on wine. I was kind of worried about them walking to their houses later that night as we hung out until after 11. Not a late night, but since they didn't have to go to work later, and seem to be more active than I have been, I had to turn in early to alternately flog myself for sinking so low and cry in hysterics knowing that was one of the few nights I hang out with people.
Yes. I've come to the very depressing conclusion that I'm a loser. No, don't try and talk me out of it. In fact, I've determined there are levels of loser-dom, and I'm lower that I originally believed. My dorky employees even have girlfriends, all be it they are people they met on some sort of second life gaming platform with avatars, their social life is busier than mine. Top that with several people I haven't talked to in a while, (this really has been the oddest couple of months) are getting married, engaged, or are otherwise happier than I have been in at least a couple of years and have all decided to call me and tell me about it. I considered slitting my wrists, and have even had friends offer advice on the best way to get it done, but seriously, who does that at 34? I guess I'm not really depressed with my life, just disgusted.
Where the hell was I? Oh yeah. Louisville. Moved out here to take the promotion. It's been interesting. Apparently when I first got here I was a Yankee. By the way, that isn't a good thing to be called down here. Now I'm some sort of sick hybrid. I've picked up an accent. It sounds exactly like someone from St. Louis trying to sound like they are from the south. Not very convincing but apparently hilarious to everyone else. The house is about 60 years old. Unfortunately there hasn't been much communication between the dead and myself. My sisters and brothers in law tell me there is a woman upstairs, and I would swear there is a guy in my kitchen, but nothing is confirmed. All I know is the guys hear a woman talking to them when the sleep over and when I decided to take a stand and challenge whomever was living in the house, my clock radio flew at my head later that night. I don't ask questions anymore.
S'alright?
I've been in Louisville a little over three years now. I still don't like people so there isn't a lot of nightlife that I go and see. Which would be why I hung out with 4 other ladies who are all over retirement age for Halloween. I had a nice couple glasses of Bailey's while they got bombed on wine. I was kind of worried about them walking to their houses later that night as we hung out until after 11. Not a late night, but since they didn't have to go to work later, and seem to be more active than I have been, I had to turn in early to alternately flog myself for sinking so low and cry in hysterics knowing that was one of the few nights I hang out with people.
Yes. I've come to the very depressing conclusion that I'm a loser. No, don't try and talk me out of it. In fact, I've determined there are levels of loser-dom, and I'm lower that I originally believed. My dorky employees even have girlfriends, all be it they are people they met on some sort of second life gaming platform with avatars, their social life is busier than mine. Top that with several people I haven't talked to in a while, (this really has been the oddest couple of months) are getting married, engaged, or are otherwise happier than I have been in at least a couple of years and have all decided to call me and tell me about it. I considered slitting my wrists, and have even had friends offer advice on the best way to get it done, but seriously, who does that at 34? I guess I'm not really depressed with my life, just disgusted.
Where the hell was I? Oh yeah. Louisville. Moved out here to take the promotion. It's been interesting. Apparently when I first got here I was a Yankee. By the way, that isn't a good thing to be called down here. Now I'm some sort of sick hybrid. I've picked up an accent. It sounds exactly like someone from St. Louis trying to sound like they are from the south. Not very convincing but apparently hilarious to everyone else. The house is about 60 years old. Unfortunately there hasn't been much communication between the dead and myself. My sisters and brothers in law tell me there is a woman upstairs, and I would swear there is a guy in my kitchen, but nothing is confirmed. All I know is the guys hear a woman talking to them when the sleep over and when I decided to take a stand and challenge whomever was living in the house, my clock radio flew at my head later that night. I don't ask questions anymore.
Sunday, December 02, 2007
Life in monotone
Actually, that can't be completely true, but I swear there are days it feels like it.
In short, nothing much has passed since the last time I wrote - again not true, but I don't have time to go into the employee who has a crush on me and the other employee that has a crush on her. Even writing it gives me a headache. Plus there is the manager I had to fire for being stupid, the whole black friday cluster and the lousy mood I've been in since October. On the other hand, there are the ghost sitings in my own home that I'm just so (read sarcastically) about. If one more item is thrown in my general direction I'm going to sage the whole damn thing, even though I'm not a professional and it will probably make things worse. Plus Stais and her boy(fiance?husband?) came in for Thanksgiving which I promptly screwed completely up. Then, to seal the deal, I was doing the dishes yesterday morning and sliced the side of my hand open on broken glass. It hurts to the touch so I'm of course outside yesterday afternoon raking the yard, doing more dishes and working on an afghan I need to get done because now I have orders for two more. And I didn't even realize I was selling the things.
To add to the total bizarreness of life, I've recently gotten in touch with a couple of old friends. By old I mean I haven't spoken to Captain Jack in a little over 7 years, and haven't spoken to Chuckles in, what, 15 years? I can't quite explain this trip down memory lane. These aren't friendships I am going to be able to revive. Too much time has past and we aren't the same people. I'm not sure if I'm sad about that or not. The end result is that these two were important friendships that I screwed up. I need to make amends and close the door.
Sometimes when you look back, it isn't that everything is rosy, it's just the rays of the setting sun glossing over the bumps....
In short, nothing much has passed since the last time I wrote - again not true, but I don't have time to go into the employee who has a crush on me and the other employee that has a crush on her. Even writing it gives me a headache. Plus there is the manager I had to fire for being stupid, the whole black friday cluster and the lousy mood I've been in since October. On the other hand, there are the ghost sitings in my own home that I'm just so (read sarcastically) about. If one more item is thrown in my general direction I'm going to sage the whole damn thing, even though I'm not a professional and it will probably make things worse. Plus Stais and her boy(fiance?husband?) came in for Thanksgiving which I promptly screwed completely up. Then, to seal the deal, I was doing the dishes yesterday morning and sliced the side of my hand open on broken glass. It hurts to the touch so I'm of course outside yesterday afternoon raking the yard, doing more dishes and working on an afghan I need to get done because now I have orders for two more. And I didn't even realize I was selling the things.
To add to the total bizarreness of life, I've recently gotten in touch with a couple of old friends. By old I mean I haven't spoken to Captain Jack in a little over 7 years, and haven't spoken to Chuckles in, what, 15 years? I can't quite explain this trip down memory lane. These aren't friendships I am going to be able to revive. Too much time has past and we aren't the same people. I'm not sure if I'm sad about that or not. The end result is that these two were important friendships that I screwed up. I need to make amends and close the door.
Sometimes when you look back, it isn't that everything is rosy, it's just the rays of the setting sun glossing over the bumps....
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Cheddar Beer Chips
I've been avoiding talking to you recently. So many odd things have been happening, but it only shows how boring my life is that it would be odd.
So, to start at the top:
My youngest sister called the other day. At midnight my time. I, of course, answer the phone with "what is wrong?" mainly because I hadn't heard from her since last December; I think. It turns out she is just drunk dialing, bizarre, completely freaking me out for no good reason, but what the hell are you going to do? She didn't just call me either, she called our other sister as well, so at least I was in some sort of company.
I had bigwigs in the store this week. It was scary enough to have me working several days a week, lets say 18, and putting in well over 70 just in one week's time. I guess it went ok. I'm taking the weekend to try and recover. I've been fairly lazy, but I really need to get in and find the living room. Meanwhile, most of the laundry is done as well as the dishes. Now, just to dig out the vacuum.....
Crap, what have I called this guy? Ahhh yes. Bruno. I know, I know, we haven't really heard from him in a while, but still, it keeps things lively. Anyway, he calls me a couple of days ago, on a Friday night, to ask me about living in on the north side of the river. Truly bizarre, because he isn't asking for himself, he's asking for his daughter, puts her on the phone and then when she and I are done, says we should get together for dinner on Wednesday. I don't even know what to do with this one. The funniest part of the conversation (actually the whole thing was humorous for the cynical), was that he gives me to his daughter and tells me before he transfers the phone, "Oh, and her name is Dawn." No shit. I've even met her a number of times, but he doesn't remember that because he's got so many groupies surrounding himself. I was going to tag him, but perhaps I'll just preserve his slight anonymity. At least with the blog no one reads.
Meanwhile, I've been reading. Laurell K's latest just came out and I devoured it. I was pleasantly surprised, because there was a plot and everything in this one. I love it when she goes back to her roots and actually writes a story, not just sex scenes strung together by segues.
Mary Janice just dropped a new one which was great. I'm confused by the "13 o'clock" issue with BabyJonTM, but I'm sure it will be wrapped up in the next one that won't come out for a year. Of course, there is the latest Evanovich, which I enjoyed. Stephanie was less easily freaked out. Honestly, if the girl is getting herself kidnapped and tortured and whatever other less desirable circumstances she is going through, don't you think she would be a little more jaded by now? I'm not sure how I feel about Harris' latest. The end of the book kind of struck me as echoing her racist friend. I'm going to let it simmer for a month or so before I read it again.
I've been buying way too much music again. I curse that Itunes! Although, I found an album and artist that I have stuck on permanent rotation. Although his website is starting to piss me off. Having said that Joe Bonamassa is pretty damn good.
And for the last of my raving, Cheddar Beer chips are truly kick ass.
OK. I feel better now.
So, to start at the top:
My youngest sister called the other day. At midnight my time. I, of course, answer the phone with "what is wrong?" mainly because I hadn't heard from her since last December; I think. It turns out she is just drunk dialing, bizarre, completely freaking me out for no good reason, but what the hell are you going to do? She didn't just call me either, she called our other sister as well, so at least I was in some sort of company.
I had bigwigs in the store this week. It was scary enough to have me working several days a week, lets say 18, and putting in well over 70 just in one week's time. I guess it went ok. I'm taking the weekend to try and recover. I've been fairly lazy, but I really need to get in and find the living room. Meanwhile, most of the laundry is done as well as the dishes. Now, just to dig out the vacuum.....
Crap, what have I called this guy? Ahhh yes. Bruno. I know, I know, we haven't really heard from him in a while, but still, it keeps things lively. Anyway, he calls me a couple of days ago, on a Friday night, to ask me about living in on the north side of the river. Truly bizarre, because he isn't asking for himself, he's asking for his daughter, puts her on the phone and then when she and I are done, says we should get together for dinner on Wednesday. I don't even know what to do with this one. The funniest part of the conversation (actually the whole thing was humorous for the cynical), was that he gives me to his daughter and tells me before he transfers the phone, "Oh, and her name is Dawn." No shit. I've even met her a number of times, but he doesn't remember that because he's got so many groupies surrounding himself. I was going to tag him, but perhaps I'll just preserve his slight anonymity. At least with the blog no one reads.
Meanwhile, I've been reading. Laurell K's latest just came out and I devoured it. I was pleasantly surprised, because there was a plot and everything in this one. I love it when she goes back to her roots and actually writes a story, not just sex scenes strung together by segues.
Mary Janice just dropped a new one which was great. I'm confused by the "13 o'clock" issue with BabyJonTM, but I'm sure it will be wrapped up in the next one that won't come out for a year. Of course, there is the latest Evanovich, which I enjoyed. Stephanie was less easily freaked out. Honestly, if the girl is getting herself kidnapped and tortured and whatever other less desirable circumstances she is going through, don't you think she would be a little more jaded by now? I'm not sure how I feel about Harris' latest. The end of the book kind of struck me as echoing her racist friend. I'm going to let it simmer for a month or so before I read it again.
I've been buying way too much music again. I curse that Itunes! Although, I found an album and artist that I have stuck on permanent rotation. Although his website is starting to piss me off. Having said that Joe Bonamassa is pretty damn good.
And for the last of my raving, Cheddar Beer chips are truly kick ass.
OK. I feel better now.
Sunday, June 03, 2007
The closest Karoke bar...
seems to be just down the street from me. Not a huge deal, if it were an actual bar, but instead it seems to be my neighbor, who opens his garage and has forgotten that not everyone else has been drinking and has to endure his singing. And while I'm no Koko Taylor, I can at least know that no one else is having to listen to me sing while I'm in the house. I'm much too civilized to do it outside. Oh the humanity.
In other shocking news, apparently I've been turned down by Stars and Stripes as a pen pal. I've not received a Dear Carrie, but I've not heard back from them either. Something about me must be unsuitable to be a pen pal. Not sure what that might be, probably my positive personality and uplifting wit.
So, I've been hanging around the house all weekend. Went out to get the basics in groceries earlier, but trying not to spend too much because I'm really mostly broke. Although, it has been kinda funny because Stais sent me this email this weekend pointing out a rocking chair, similar to another chair I've been contemplating. Of course, all I could think was, isn't $350 a little much for a rocking chair? Still, I can't quite find the chair I want either. The one at JCP, is 33" wide, and I'd like one a little wider. I know that I can't fold up into chairs like all the skinny girls, but that doesn't mean that I don't want to. Maybe I should just look for a loveseat that is Mission style.
It is a good thing I'm broke, however. I seem to be eating non stop when I have food in the house. Pretty sure I'll soon be as big as the house if I can't get that under control.
In other shocking news, apparently I've been turned down by Stars and Stripes as a pen pal. I've not received a Dear Carrie, but I've not heard back from them either. Something about me must be unsuitable to be a pen pal. Not sure what that might be, probably my positive personality and uplifting wit.
So, I've been hanging around the house all weekend. Went out to get the basics in groceries earlier, but trying not to spend too much because I'm really mostly broke. Although, it has been kinda funny because Stais sent me this email this weekend pointing out a rocking chair, similar to another chair I've been contemplating. Of course, all I could think was, isn't $350 a little much for a rocking chair? Still, I can't quite find the chair I want either. The one at JCP, is 33" wide, and I'd like one a little wider. I know that I can't fold up into chairs like all the skinny girls, but that doesn't mean that I don't want to. Maybe I should just look for a loveseat that is Mission style.
It is a good thing I'm broke, however. I seem to be eating non stop when I have food in the house. Pretty sure I'll soon be as big as the house if I can't get that under control.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Reality Check
So, after a craptastic day, I was just sitting here at home, enjoying a lovely game of solitaire (seriously I have no life) when I here a large boom outside. Well, across the street from my backyard is a military graveyard. I see people around the grandstand, and see soldiers lining up to shoot another volley. And I'm standing in my backyard in my socks, still in work uniform with tears in my eyes because while life sucks on occasion, it could be so much worse. I could know that soldier, it could be me in the grave, or I could be one of the ones standing over a loved ones' grave not able to share a laugh again.
So, I'm standing there in my socks, paying my respects from under my walnut tree, when I notice that some of the "mourners" are in t-shirts and shorts. Which struck me as odd, obviously, but this is southern Indiana and there could be any number of reasons why this is. I then notice one of the "mourners" in an antebellum dress with an umbrella over her head, even though it is ninety degrees and the sun is blaring. So I take a closer look at the soldiers and realize they are wearing period uniforms, specifically from the Civil War. And it hits me that this is just some historical mock up of a funeral. And I'm ticked off.
Now I realize that the world marches on, and those that don't know their history are doomed to repeat it, but there are enough new graves in that particular graveyard. The last row keeps moving toward me with no sign of stopping and I'm baffled. If these people wanted to "experience" a military funeral, I'm pretty sure they would see the real thing entirely too soon. I guess I have a hard time understanding why they need to view a historical funeral, when not 20 feet from their chairs is someone who was buried within the last year.
I keep thinking I need to do something noble with my life, but I'm so disillusioned by what I see, I'm not sure I can discern what noble is anymore.
So, I'm standing there in my socks, paying my respects from under my walnut tree, when I notice that some of the "mourners" are in t-shirts and shorts. Which struck me as odd, obviously, but this is southern Indiana and there could be any number of reasons why this is. I then notice one of the "mourners" in an antebellum dress with an umbrella over her head, even though it is ninety degrees and the sun is blaring. So I take a closer look at the soldiers and realize they are wearing period uniforms, specifically from the Civil War. And it hits me that this is just some historical mock up of a funeral. And I'm ticked off.
Now I realize that the world marches on, and those that don't know their history are doomed to repeat it, but there are enough new graves in that particular graveyard. The last row keeps moving toward me with no sign of stopping and I'm baffled. If these people wanted to "experience" a military funeral, I'm pretty sure they would see the real thing entirely too soon. I guess I have a hard time understanding why they need to view a historical funeral, when not 20 feet from their chairs is someone who was buried within the last year.
I keep thinking I need to do something noble with my life, but I'm so disillusioned by what I see, I'm not sure I can discern what noble is anymore.
Monday, May 28, 2007
The point again?
I have to agree with Jack, but please don't tell him I've been checking out his blog, that it is liberating to know that you aren't really writing for an audience, that mainly you are writing to keep yourself sane. Or vent. Or because those state ordered hobbies aren't really working out.
My life hasn't been any more interesting in the last few days. Although I swear I've gained four pounds because I oouldn't stop eating. In fact, I had a huge meal at Qdoba today, my absolute favorite fast (well it isn't really a sit down restaurant is it?) food joint, seconded by my guilty pleasure of Jack in the Box. In fact, when my parents were here a couple of weeks ago, they made sure to grab some tacos and poppers for me. Mainly because I'm a loser, but hey, that's already been spelled out. Digressing again. Anyway, even though I had this huge meal, (burrito and chips and salsa) my mouth was still hungry. I didn't go get anything, but it made me fidgety for the rest of the afternoon.
Of course, I'm dreaming about food as well. I'm not sure how many are familiar with the Food Network show, Good Eats, but he recently had a rerun where he was talking about the uses of tortillas, and was showing how to make nachos. It was really cool, he made this tier of nachos, and of course, loving food the way I do, I've been wanting to get my hands on some racks like that so I could do the same. I haven't really began looking, but all I could dream last night was these damn pans, floating out of my reach, or going to the store to buy some and they were all too small.
Now I recognize that there are a lot more serious problems to be had, but this is bugging me. My dreams are just taking a wierd turn. And not just my dreams, but my day dreams as well. Maybe I should just buy a guitar on the cheap to prove to myself that I can't play.
In other news, I watched several movies this weekend, including, The Queen, The Holiday and Stranger than Fiction. The last was, by far, the best, which tells what a film connisseur I am not. The concept is very cool though, and I don't think that Will Ferrell did a bad job with it. Not what I thought it was going to be, but still enjoyable. The last line said something about if you have a man who knows he is going to die and still takes the risk, isn't that a man you want to keep around.
Of course that made me think about what I'm doing with my life, and is it enough. I can stay in my house and eat until I'm as big as the house, but it doesn't really do anything for anyone. So I went to Operation Stars and Stripes to see if there was anything I could do. I volunteered to be a pen pal, and will probably send money or an entire care package, but I still feel pretty damn useless. I need to find something around here.
Either way, it wraps up another secluded weekend. I need to gather the kats and go to sleep. Work again tomorrow. Fun fun fun
My life hasn't been any more interesting in the last few days. Although I swear I've gained four pounds because I oouldn't stop eating. In fact, I had a huge meal at Qdoba today, my absolute favorite fast (well it isn't really a sit down restaurant is it?) food joint, seconded by my guilty pleasure of Jack in the Box. In fact, when my parents were here a couple of weeks ago, they made sure to grab some tacos and poppers for me. Mainly because I'm a loser, but hey, that's already been spelled out. Digressing again. Anyway, even though I had this huge meal, (burrito and chips and salsa) my mouth was still hungry. I didn't go get anything, but it made me fidgety for the rest of the afternoon.
Of course, I'm dreaming about food as well. I'm not sure how many are familiar with the Food Network show, Good Eats, but he recently had a rerun where he was talking about the uses of tortillas, and was showing how to make nachos. It was really cool, he made this tier of nachos, and of course, loving food the way I do, I've been wanting to get my hands on some racks like that so I could do the same. I haven't really began looking, but all I could dream last night was these damn pans, floating out of my reach, or going to the store to buy some and they were all too small.
Now I recognize that there are a lot more serious problems to be had, but this is bugging me. My dreams are just taking a wierd turn. And not just my dreams, but my day dreams as well. Maybe I should just buy a guitar on the cheap to prove to myself that I can't play.
In other news, I watched several movies this weekend, including, The Queen, The Holiday and Stranger than Fiction. The last was, by far, the best, which tells what a film connisseur I am not. The concept is very cool though, and I don't think that Will Ferrell did a bad job with it. Not what I thought it was going to be, but still enjoyable. The last line said something about if you have a man who knows he is going to die and still takes the risk, isn't that a man you want to keep around.
Of course that made me think about what I'm doing with my life, and is it enough. I can stay in my house and eat until I'm as big as the house, but it doesn't really do anything for anyone. So I went to Operation Stars and Stripes to see if there was anything I could do. I volunteered to be a pen pal, and will probably send money or an entire care package, but I still feel pretty damn useless. I need to find something around here.
Either way, it wraps up another secluded weekend. I need to gather the kats and go to sleep. Work again tomorrow. Fun fun fun
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Blues in the bedroom
I've been dreaming in sitcoms again. This is a fairly disturbing trend I noticed a few years back, when I was dreaming in "Friends" sequences fairly regularly. Needless to say I stopped watching the show for a few years and tried to find a life of my own. I found the life, and then promptly returned it as defective a year or so later. Of course, by then the warranty was done and the store didn't want to have anything to do with me unless I got a new life.
But I digress. Last night I dreamt my house was flooding, and I had to get my cats out, but I was also worried about friends that I couldn't find, including, don't ask why but Jennifer Love Hewitt and that gorgeous guy that plays her husband on the ghost show, Andre Braugher, I'm not even sure what he is on right now, and Vincent D'Onofrio. Hello wierd world. The worst part is that I couldn't get the cats together in enough time, and the water was closing in. I woke up in enough time, but after a few minutes, rolled back over into the same dream, with some different players and a dolls head that spoke to me.
Geez, I hate dolls.
Meanwhile, work sucks. The person I thought would be fired before I would, has been so now my stomach turns everytime I think of the job. In fact, I'm going in for a few hours today just because the boss is coming in this week and I want to make an impression. Hopefully this will be a good one. My resume isn't going anywhere, and I want to believe that the universe will step in with the right job, but I'm starting to get nervous. I just want out of the job, I stopped enjoying myself and it seems so wrong to stay when I hate it.
However, on positive notes, I finally painted the second bedroom the color green that I really like. It is a soft green from Ace, Winwood Spring, B33-2. Of course, the painting has been an ordeal anyway, because I went out to pick up some paint from Home Depot (friendly people there!) and ended up with this awful color, Spirit Whisper. Oops. Bright and loud, I had to paint over the damn thing. I'll give Ace its credit, the color worked out well, even though he had mixed it by hand and made me nervous. Now I have to decide how I'm going to decorate.
I've been daydreaming lately that I was blinded in some sort of worker's accident and after settling with the company, I sat around at home and taught myself the guitar and started playing the blues. I daydream that I'm pretty good, my voice improves dramatically (because believe me when I tell you no one wants to hear me sing) and I go to local clubs with sunglasses and a fedora (because apparently I will look better in hats if I'm blind as well, probably because I can't see myself?) and play a little on amateur nights, eventually working my way into practicing with bands, individuals wanting to play with me on a regular basis, inviting me out, etc. How awful is my life now if I'm daydreaming that being blind is better?
I need to be a better friend and call mine, but all I really want to do with my time off is watch sad movies and cry. I need to get out into the sun. Maybe Koko will cheer me up.
Just as a side note for Vincent D'Onofrio fans, Happy Accidents is pretty damn good movie. Just a random thought.
But I digress. Last night I dreamt my house was flooding, and I had to get my cats out, but I was also worried about friends that I couldn't find, including, don't ask why but Jennifer Love Hewitt and that gorgeous guy that plays her husband on the ghost show, Andre Braugher, I'm not even sure what he is on right now, and Vincent D'Onofrio. Hello wierd world. The worst part is that I couldn't get the cats together in enough time, and the water was closing in. I woke up in enough time, but after a few minutes, rolled back over into the same dream, with some different players and a dolls head that spoke to me.
Geez, I hate dolls.
Meanwhile, work sucks. The person I thought would be fired before I would, has been so now my stomach turns everytime I think of the job. In fact, I'm going in for a few hours today just because the boss is coming in this week and I want to make an impression. Hopefully this will be a good one. My resume isn't going anywhere, and I want to believe that the universe will step in with the right job, but I'm starting to get nervous. I just want out of the job, I stopped enjoying myself and it seems so wrong to stay when I hate it.
However, on positive notes, I finally painted the second bedroom the color green that I really like. It is a soft green from Ace, Winwood Spring, B33-2. Of course, the painting has been an ordeal anyway, because I went out to pick up some paint from Home Depot (friendly people there!) and ended up with this awful color, Spirit Whisper. Oops. Bright and loud, I had to paint over the damn thing. I'll give Ace its credit, the color worked out well, even though he had mixed it by hand and made me nervous. Now I have to decide how I'm going to decorate.
I've been daydreaming lately that I was blinded in some sort of worker's accident and after settling with the company, I sat around at home and taught myself the guitar and started playing the blues. I daydream that I'm pretty good, my voice improves dramatically (because believe me when I tell you no one wants to hear me sing) and I go to local clubs with sunglasses and a fedora (because apparently I will look better in hats if I'm blind as well, probably because I can't see myself?) and play a little on amateur nights, eventually working my way into practicing with bands, individuals wanting to play with me on a regular basis, inviting me out, etc. How awful is my life now if I'm daydreaming that being blind is better?
I need to be a better friend and call mine, but all I really want to do with my time off is watch sad movies and cry. I need to get out into the sun. Maybe Koko will cheer me up.
Just as a side note for Vincent D'Onofrio fans, Happy Accidents is pretty damn good movie. Just a random thought.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Late as usual
Wow. I'm such a bad girl. A dirty, dirty bad girl. Well, not so much the dirty part, my social life has been consigned to one of the more boring parts of hell, but it has been entirely too long since I posted.
However, looking at the hits I've garnered, I can't say that anyone has missed me, and I'm ok with that.
I can't really complain about how things are going. I've turned 34 recently and I'm not sure how I feel about that.
Then, of course, I happen to call my parents yesterday to hear that the parents of my ex are coming by to talk about quilting or something. It is a completely random thing, and it threw my day right off its kilter. Not that I still care about the guy, but because I did care about him once. Not only was he a good friend, we loved each other.
So, anyway, I talk to my parents for a little bit, they get off the phone because they coming to the door, and I jump on the computer for my newest addiction, Slide Tiles, from a game I bought from Hoyle. Anyway, I check email and get this as my daily horoscope:
"An old wound might suddenly demand your attention. Now is your chance to heal from the past. If you're willing to look at the problem directly and acknowledge your part in it, you can move on."
Uh huh. Ok, so we fast forward to today, because I'm pretty sure you aren't interested in the ice cream consumption or the hours spent reading and catching up on what I've taped.
First, I have to call my parents because playing cool like I don't care what's going on in his life totally worked and they thought I didn't care. Anyhoo. Turns out he has gotten out of the career he's really good at, and decided to be an electrician because he wasn't getting to spend enough time with his kid.
Now, here is the dilemma: I'm not sure how I feel about that. Part of me is glad he is having a good life, happy he is happy. The other, major part is pissed off that he is married with a kid and a new career, when I couldn't get a date if I wanted and really have no interest in anyone seeing me naked at this point, even if I could get a date. If I look at it honestly, I'm insanely jealous of a man I haven't seen in almost 13 years. There is something seriously wrong with me.
However, looking at the hits I've garnered, I can't say that anyone has missed me, and I'm ok with that.
I can't really complain about how things are going. I've turned 34 recently and I'm not sure how I feel about that.
Then, of course, I happen to call my parents yesterday to hear that the parents of my ex are coming by to talk about quilting or something. It is a completely random thing, and it threw my day right off its kilter. Not that I still care about the guy, but because I did care about him once. Not only was he a good friend, we loved each other.
So, anyway, I talk to my parents for a little bit, they get off the phone because they coming to the door, and I jump on the computer for my newest addiction, Slide Tiles, from a game I bought from Hoyle. Anyway, I check email and get this as my daily horoscope:
"An old wound might suddenly demand your attention. Now is your chance to heal from the past. If you're willing to look at the problem directly and acknowledge your part in it, you can move on."
Uh huh. Ok, so we fast forward to today, because I'm pretty sure you aren't interested in the ice cream consumption or the hours spent reading and catching up on what I've taped.
First, I have to call my parents because playing cool like I don't care what's going on in his life totally worked and they thought I didn't care. Anyhoo. Turns out he has gotten out of the career he's really good at, and decided to be an electrician because he wasn't getting to spend enough time with his kid.
Now, here is the dilemma: I'm not sure how I feel about that. Part of me is glad he is having a good life, happy he is happy. The other, major part is pissed off that he is married with a kid and a new career, when I couldn't get a date if I wanted and really have no interest in anyone seeing me naked at this point, even if I could get a date. If I look at it honestly, I'm insanely jealous of a man I haven't seen in almost 13 years. There is something seriously wrong with me.
Sunday, November 12, 2006
Watching traffic
It is simply amazing how boring I am. The only life I really have is with work and that is sucking major.
Well, let me back up. The main reason I haven't been writing all that much is because I've been working way too much. Six to seven days a week, 60 to 70 hours a week. I come home, do jigsaws on the computer for a couple of hours and then go to sleep so I can do another day of it. I've had the DVR running, but was unable to really check out what I've been recording until yesterday. I've got to tell you, I haven't been missing much. I had to make myself watch the last couple episodes of House, and found that I was fast forwarding through all the interpersonal bullshit, to just when they were dealing the the health problem at hand. I did the same thing with Numb3rs and Criminal Minds. Which sucks because normally I really like these shows, but now I'm just bored by them. I have yet to be able to force myself to watch Grey's or Standoff. The only thing I've enjoyed was Bones, Heroes and .... well, that was pretty much it. I'm waiting to watch Studio 60 until the next one is taped.
But it really pisses me off, because usually this is one of the few escapist things I enjoy and I can't even find interest in it! Is it because tv is vapid or because my stress level at work is increasing and my happiness level with my personal life is decreasing? (of course I should have used another work for happiness, but I can't come up with it. Maybe my brain cells are dying, but I'm not drinking enough to cause a sudden loss.)
Other things that irritate me is that West Wing is no longer on Itunes for me to buy individual episodes. I had no idea they were going to come off when the series ended. Plus, I've had a headache for the last two weeks, a ringing in my left ear for the last month, the Wellbutrin isn't working the same for me as it is for my friends and family, I haven't had sex in so long I'm not sure I remember how and I have no social life.
Not that people aren't trying to help me with the life thing. Stais wants to come down between xmas and new year for a couple days, although I'm not clear if it is just her or her and Phil. Not that it matters either way, I'll still have to plan stuff to do. Capt. Optimism has been sending messages again. He was telling me I should go out with friends to take the stress level off. I think he was including himself in that, but he (and I know I'm going to hell for this) resembles Lerch after a 3 month all you can eat buffet bender. There is nothing about this guy that attracts me, interests me, nothing. And yet I don't cut him loose. I feel awful for feeling this way about the guy. He's perfectly nice. What the hell is wrong with me? Even when I think about hanging out with people, I see it as them coming over to my house, bringing food and drink and us all hanging out on the couch.
I'm going to be 34 in a couple of months. I'm single. I'm overweight. I'm discontent in my job. I have no social life to speak of. I have two cats. I tool around in a house with too much space for me and the cats. What the hell am I doing with my life? Where am I going? I feel like I'm just watching the traffic go by, not even interested enough in seeing where they are going.
Well, let me back up. The main reason I haven't been writing all that much is because I've been working way too much. Six to seven days a week, 60 to 70 hours a week. I come home, do jigsaws on the computer for a couple of hours and then go to sleep so I can do another day of it. I've had the DVR running, but was unable to really check out what I've been recording until yesterday. I've got to tell you, I haven't been missing much. I had to make myself watch the last couple episodes of House, and found that I was fast forwarding through all the interpersonal bullshit, to just when they were dealing the the health problem at hand. I did the same thing with Numb3rs and Criminal Minds. Which sucks because normally I really like these shows, but now I'm just bored by them. I have yet to be able to force myself to watch Grey's or Standoff. The only thing I've enjoyed was Bones, Heroes and .... well, that was pretty much it. I'm waiting to watch Studio 60 until the next one is taped.
But it really pisses me off, because usually this is one of the few escapist things I enjoy and I can't even find interest in it! Is it because tv is vapid or because my stress level at work is increasing and my happiness level with my personal life is decreasing? (of course I should have used another work for happiness, but I can't come up with it. Maybe my brain cells are dying, but I'm not drinking enough to cause a sudden loss.)
Other things that irritate me is that West Wing is no longer on Itunes for me to buy individual episodes. I had no idea they were going to come off when the series ended. Plus, I've had a headache for the last two weeks, a ringing in my left ear for the last month, the Wellbutrin isn't working the same for me as it is for my friends and family, I haven't had sex in so long I'm not sure I remember how and I have no social life.
Not that people aren't trying to help me with the life thing. Stais wants to come down between xmas and new year for a couple days, although I'm not clear if it is just her or her and Phil. Not that it matters either way, I'll still have to plan stuff to do. Capt. Optimism has been sending messages again. He was telling me I should go out with friends to take the stress level off. I think he was including himself in that, but he (and I know I'm going to hell for this) resembles Lerch after a 3 month all you can eat buffet bender. There is nothing about this guy that attracts me, interests me, nothing. And yet I don't cut him loose. I feel awful for feeling this way about the guy. He's perfectly nice. What the hell is wrong with me? Even when I think about hanging out with people, I see it as them coming over to my house, bringing food and drink and us all hanging out on the couch.
I'm going to be 34 in a couple of months. I'm single. I'm overweight. I'm discontent in my job. I have no social life to speak of. I have two cats. I tool around in a house with too much space for me and the cats. What the hell am I doing with my life? Where am I going? I feel like I'm just watching the traffic go by, not even interested enough in seeing where they are going.
Monday, October 09, 2006
The Stitch
Is it wrong that at 7 p.m. all I want to do is go to bed? It isn't like there is anything exciting there for me, (well the other night I was trying to decide between David Boreanaz and Matthew Perry, but how often does that happen?) and I so rarely feel rested after, but damn I'm tired.
I got to go back to the dermatologist today and get the stitch out of my face. Apparently the mole that was removed was a blue novus, whatever the hell that means. In the end, I was told that if the mole had gone unchecked, and unremoved, it might have become cancer. Okey dokey. So long as I have this totally uncool scar on my face that looks like someone tried to put a star on my cheek. No tatoos there to cover it up so I will have to start with the vitaman e to do it's magic.
Meanwhile, back at the office, I've been putting in too many hours. In fact, the only reason I left early (read: only worked 8 hours without a lunch) is because of the dr.'s appt. Everyone I've talked to is putting in too many hours, but it still sucks. The whole point to becoming a manager is so I didn't have to work so many hours. But I have a doofus working for me now, so until he quits or I drive him out of the building, I'm stuck. I've been cleaning out my office, painting and everything to really make it mine. I've trashed the bookcases and hotfiles so they can't become clutter catchers, and reduces my temptation to put something on them. The only way for me to keep something clean is if I don't have anything to put something on.
I feel bad about the house though. I've been here only a couple of months and the place is trashed. I need to throw out a bunch of mail and stuff that I no longer want. I still have boxes everywhere. It is just driving me nuts. I'm thinking that since I painted my office, I can go ahead and get ready to paint in my own house. I need to paint the room I'm using as the office because this gray is about to get on my left nerve.
Well, I've dawdled on the computer long enough. I think I'm going to go to bed early tonight. It isn't like I have anything better to do. Maybe I need to get a roommate? Someone who will keep me active. The cats sure aren't doing it. I need something....
I got to go back to the dermatologist today and get the stitch out of my face. Apparently the mole that was removed was a blue novus, whatever the hell that means. In the end, I was told that if the mole had gone unchecked, and unremoved, it might have become cancer. Okey dokey. So long as I have this totally uncool scar on my face that looks like someone tried to put a star on my cheek. No tatoos there to cover it up so I will have to start with the vitaman e to do it's magic.
Meanwhile, back at the office, I've been putting in too many hours. In fact, the only reason I left early (read: only worked 8 hours without a lunch) is because of the dr.'s appt. Everyone I've talked to is putting in too many hours, but it still sucks. The whole point to becoming a manager is so I didn't have to work so many hours. But I have a doofus working for me now, so until he quits or I drive him out of the building, I'm stuck. I've been cleaning out my office, painting and everything to really make it mine. I've trashed the bookcases and hotfiles so they can't become clutter catchers, and reduces my temptation to put something on them. The only way for me to keep something clean is if I don't have anything to put something on.
I feel bad about the house though. I've been here only a couple of months and the place is trashed. I need to throw out a bunch of mail and stuff that I no longer want. I still have boxes everywhere. It is just driving me nuts. I'm thinking that since I painted my office, I can go ahead and get ready to paint in my own house. I need to paint the room I'm using as the office because this gray is about to get on my left nerve.
Well, I've dawdled on the computer long enough. I think I'm going to go to bed early tonight. It isn't like I have anything better to do. Maybe I need to get a roommate? Someone who will keep me active. The cats sure aren't doing it. I need something....
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Sexual Drought
I am dying here. I'm sure there is a medical condition, the necessitates sex. Life has just gotten more and more bizarre, and it doesn't help that I'm sinking into this fantasy land every night that leaves me even more sexually frustrated than when I went to bed. The stuff I'm reading, (wow) is leaving me revved up like some car engine that just guns for no reason. I'm idling high. The worst part is that I can't escape it. Even if I don't read the dirty stuff, (although Emma Holly is damn good at her job), I can't watch simple movies without feeling like I'm deprived and/or jealous of the actors doing their job. In fact, I had to come in here and write about this because I was watching "50 First Dates" and I was jealous of a character with a head injury.
It doesn't help that for the first time in my life, my bathroom cabinet looks like a sick person lives here. I'm taking celebrex for my ankle, which still hurts; I'm taking Nicomide for the "stubborn acne" that my dermatologist says is springing up all over my body, (which makes me feel even sexier, let me tell you); and wellbutrin for my mental well being, which I'm not sure is working either. The only indication that there is any juice in the stuff are these dreams I'm having at night. With the worst ones I've been waking up in a sweat, in the best ones, I'm waking up wet. I'm pretty much fucked (well, not technically) and I'm not seeing the benefit during the day.
I am trying to do other things. I spent the majority of my morning setting up my new blinds. They are pretty cheap, but they work in a pinch. Of course, one of the girls, Gracie, decided she needed to play with the cords that were hanging down and ripped one of them off the wall. So in my bay window that has three separate windows, only two of them are covered.
I'm going to have to go to the store, but it wasn't going to happen today. It has been raining so much, my street was flooded for a good two hours. There would have been no way for my to even get out of my driveway. The pump in the basement has been running off and on all day. I've been lucky though, no water in the house. Of course, it is starting to get cold too. I probably should bring someone out to clean the chimney. Maybe they will be cute and I can turn the appointment into one of those penthouse letters.
I've also been getting out. I haven't been hanging out with Capt. Optimism, who, for some reason feels the need to ask me what I'm doing every couple of days, but I have been hanging out with one of my former assistants. I can't remember if I've named him in here yet, so let's just call him my brother Brown, which is a play on his last name, nothing else. Anyway, I've been hanging out with him and his fiance which is cool, but also reaffirms that I'm alone. I hate being the third wheel, especially when I don't know everybody really well, but what are you going to do? Brown is a couple of years younger than me, but his girl Friday, well she is a full decade younger than me. But she's sweet and fun to be around. My singleness seems to be affecting those around me as well. Barry White, my assistant, has decided that if he is still working for me by the time Valentine's day rolls around, he is going to find me someone. I'm beginning to think I'm broken though. There is something wrong with that switch that finds men attractive. In fact, at work a couple of days ago, one of the guys helping me out with my remodel, came up to me and said I looked like I needed to hug, and he gave me one. I will inform you that not only is he incredibly good looking, he is sweet and pretty cut too. All I could think was, "What do I have to do to get you through your visit, so I can get on with my day?" I'm telling you, something in me has died.
And yet, I still miss all the components of sex. The kisses that lead to clothes coming off. Running my hands over his chest, licking and biting and sucking on whatever piece of skin I come across. The slight feeling of helplessness when I end up on my back completely open to his eyes, hands and explorations. That feeling when he first slides into me is one of my favorite.
I need another shower and a beer.
It doesn't help that for the first time in my life, my bathroom cabinet looks like a sick person lives here. I'm taking celebrex for my ankle, which still hurts; I'm taking Nicomide for the "stubborn acne" that my dermatologist says is springing up all over my body, (which makes me feel even sexier, let me tell you); and wellbutrin for my mental well being, which I'm not sure is working either. The only indication that there is any juice in the stuff are these dreams I'm having at night. With the worst ones I've been waking up in a sweat, in the best ones, I'm waking up wet. I'm pretty much fucked (well, not technically) and I'm not seeing the benefit during the day.
I am trying to do other things. I spent the majority of my morning setting up my new blinds. They are pretty cheap, but they work in a pinch. Of course, one of the girls, Gracie, decided she needed to play with the cords that were hanging down and ripped one of them off the wall. So in my bay window that has three separate windows, only two of them are covered.
I'm going to have to go to the store, but it wasn't going to happen today. It has been raining so much, my street was flooded for a good two hours. There would have been no way for my to even get out of my driveway. The pump in the basement has been running off and on all day. I've been lucky though, no water in the house. Of course, it is starting to get cold too. I probably should bring someone out to clean the chimney. Maybe they will be cute and I can turn the appointment into one of those penthouse letters.
I've also been getting out. I haven't been hanging out with Capt. Optimism, who, for some reason feels the need to ask me what I'm doing every couple of days, but I have been hanging out with one of my former assistants. I can't remember if I've named him in here yet, so let's just call him my brother Brown, which is a play on his last name, nothing else. Anyway, I've been hanging out with him and his fiance which is cool, but also reaffirms that I'm alone. I hate being the third wheel, especially when I don't know everybody really well, but what are you going to do? Brown is a couple of years younger than me, but his girl Friday, well she is a full decade younger than me. But she's sweet and fun to be around. My singleness seems to be affecting those around me as well. Barry White, my assistant, has decided that if he is still working for me by the time Valentine's day rolls around, he is going to find me someone. I'm beginning to think I'm broken though. There is something wrong with that switch that finds men attractive. In fact, at work a couple of days ago, one of the guys helping me out with my remodel, came up to me and said I looked like I needed to hug, and he gave me one. I will inform you that not only is he incredibly good looking, he is sweet and pretty cut too. All I could think was, "What do I have to do to get you through your visit, so I can get on with my day?" I'm telling you, something in me has died.
And yet, I still miss all the components of sex. The kisses that lead to clothes coming off. Running my hands over his chest, licking and biting and sucking on whatever piece of skin I come across. The slight feeling of helplessness when I end up on my back completely open to his eyes, hands and explorations. That feeling when he first slides into me is one of my favorite.
I need another shower and a beer.
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