Everybody’s Got a Story

Dad called me today. He was playing around on FB and found my older brother. His profile isn’t viewable, but he is there. Alive. Presumably in one piece, and presumably living somewhere near Thunder Bay. That’s a hell of a shock. Mom didn’t care, of course, and Sis won’t, either. Creep probably doesn’t even remember. But I do. I remember. I remember enough to have questions about who, and why, and why not. I’ve talked to Dad about it, over the years. I understand my parents’ logic in shutting them out of our lives. I see that Mom made a horrible, hard decision to cast two children out of her life in order to save three. And I know that decision will haunt her forever. And I also know that Dad probably still understands my confusion about the situation… I was the first one he called when he found him. And I don’t know what to do about the information. Really, I share nothing except a last name with this man… We probably don’t have the same memories, and we probably don’t have the same opinion of our childhoods. For my mother’s sake, I’m inclined to never speak with him… or her. But knowing that there’s someone out there with a piece of your past, a piece of your life… I can’t explain it, and I know it’s the emotional, irresponsible, young, stupid fish that’s responding right now. So the other fish is keeping me at bay. Making me smart, making me not do anything rash. Because it’s tempting to say hi to a brother that I haven’t spoken to in over twenty years.

That Amanda Marshall song is right - everybody’s got a story. Life may look perfect to some people, but it’s really not. No one’s life is perfect, and the grass always looks greener on the other side.

I don’t really have anything else to blog about tonight. This is sort of absorbing most of my feelings. It’s one a.m. here, and I’ve entertained myself for the past few hours with a couple of movies. I have a couple more for tomorrow, too. Texted with Grammar back and forth, until he suddenly disappeared. I hate that. Sat with Indigo and I know he’s tired; he popped out of my shirt a few times and just looked confused. Almost like, “are you ever going to bed, woman?? I want to go to my cage!” which is silly, because he can go to his cage whenever he’d like, but it was still the impression I got. Like, “is today still happening? damnit! *sigh*”

Tomorrow I go see the TeaLady with Pretty and her friends. THAT should be an interesting experience. And I just had the weirdest case of deja vu. I was reading The Ex’s status update, and I saw that Dad commented on it, and then I sat here and thought, I’ve seen this before, a long time ago. And I couldn’t process it at the time because it made no sense. Now, in the FB context, it makes perfect sense, and then I kinda wonder how I could have known something before I’d ever seen it. Did I tell you the other day that T. knew I’d been eating grapes without my telling her? And that either I made her or she made me crave ice cream? …. Funny how it relates to food, hmm?

I’m going to bed. Tomorrow’s another day.

(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction

Someone found my blog by searching “hand job”. *sigh* I need to raise the bar, obviously.

Today was okay. T. called at lunch, and asked if I was at work. I don’t think my flippant response about eating bonbons in bed was taken all that well. Of course I was at work. I still have a job, thank God. I’m not to tell anyone how much money I make, but it’s not exactly a secret to anyone at all that I earn more money than the other woman who is going to teach me how to do my new job. Go figure. Welcome to Hell, where everything is backwards and they aren’t going to teach you the rules.

Went to CM today, too. The Guy bought pizza for dinner, and when I was done eating my two or three slices, I practically passed out in a heap on the floor. I did sit there for over half an hour, just talking to him and staring forward with my eyes half-closed. I was tired. I am tired. And I have to work tomorrow. I was surprised, yesterday, when the boss made the announcement, how much of that fear and adrenaline from my own meeting with her came back. It was like it was happening all over again, even though it wasn’t happening to me.

Other than that, not much is going on. I was listening to the oldies station this morning on the way to work (shut up) and they said that there are a number of things that women say that mean something else entirely. This is true. One of my favourite examples was ”I’ve had a busy day.” What does that really mean? It doesn’t mean she’s making smalltalk. It means she doesn’t want to cook or clean. She doesn’t want to go over the budget, she doesn’t want to go grocery shopping, she doesn’t want to wash socks. What she wants to do is get pampered a little. Get taken out for dinner, have her feet massaged, take a bath with bubbles and candles. I can totally attest to this. And you know, when I had one of those really, really bad days, there would be a bath drawn for me, with bubbles. And candles lit. And dinner would be put off until I felt like eating. My book was in the bathroom, my towel was out… The Ex was very good about things like that, when he remembered. He just didn’t remember often enough…

Texting with Grammar a bit right now. People keep asking me about him (even The Ex) and I don’t know what to tell them. I guess I can just say that I have a guy friend that I text with pretty often.

And… CNN had this interesting article about sex addiction. I mean, obviously such a thing exists, if David Duchovny (smokin’ hot!) can be treated for it, but the whole concept seems strange. But then again, I didn’t look at it from a masturbation / porn point of view. Sure, everyone knows that sex - okay, orgasm - releases endorphins that make you feel good, but I hadn’t thought of people chasing the high in that way, exactly. The article says, “For many addicts, sex becomes a way to numb out painful feelings, kill time or stop feeling lonely”. C’mon, name me someone who’s never masturbated just because they were bored. I guess it’s all about extremes, though.

Anyway, I have nothing of any consequence to add. The Oldies are putting me to sleep, and Indigo is keeping my chest warm. I don’t know what I’d do without this bird to come home to. I might have to *gasp* get a cat… Ew!

Sweet City Woman

Today kicked ass.

First, at 10:30, I remembered that the Trans-Siberian Orchestra tickets went on sale. So I went to the fan site and bought a set, figuring the fan club tickets wouldn’t be all that great. Hell no, baby! I got 15th row floor tickets for Creep and me! Now, they cost me an arm and a leg… I don’t remember them being that expensive last year, but perhaps the fact that the venue sold out caused them to increase ticket prices. Doesn’t matter, the show will be worth it.

Then… I got a whole pile of stuff done at Hell. I’d gone in to the day facing a whack of work that I wasn’t sure I’d ever get finished, but I’m 90% complete what I had on my desk yesterday, and that’s pretty damn good. Makes me feel good that I won’t be leaving odds and ends. Then… at 3:30, the boss announced that one of the women in the department had been packaged out, and that I would be taking over her role. It was worded in a bit of an interesting way, and the more I think about it, the more I realize that I think they’re covering their bases… They can’t package her out and then immediately hire me to replace her. Seniority, etc. But they can “spread out her work” and give some of it to me, and gradually ease me into the role, I think. I’m sure a labour lawyer would have a field day with it. Anyway, now I don’t have to hide the fact that people know I’m staying and that I’m gradually moving into a new role.

And, even though I didn’t like you, lady, I hope you land on your feet and I wish you and your young son the very best.

And then! Coworker said to me at 4:30, “can you keep a secret?” Duh, I kept one from you for three weeks, didn’t I? So he shows me this email. On the day that I received my offer of employment and separation papers, CornerWoman emailed the Jackass out west and said, “Blue is no longer with the company. She was laid off today. We talked about this yesterday.” Or some such thing. One, she was pretty fucking stupid to do that, especially since she was wrong. Two, Jackass takes this email? And he forwards it to a major player who works for one of our customers.

(A bit of background - before I landed the job at Hell, I interviewed with this particular customer. This major player was the one who conducted the interview. He struck me as slimy; we didn’t really get along, and I wasn’t surprised when I didn’t get the job. But the slimy guy forwarded my resume to the Jackass, who passed my resume on to HR at Hell, and that’s how I got hired there. Thus the reason Jackass believes I owe him. I don’t feel the same way. It’s been bad blood for almost a year now between me and him.)

The Major Player forwarded it to his people, etc. Anyway, long story short, it got back to Coworker, who was obviously very surprised to read it. The trail. The stupid paper trail. And without being able to say anything to me, because he didn’t know that I had a new job offer, he took it to my boss. My boss was livid. First, she told him I wasn’t being laid off. Then she asked for a soft copy of the email. I sincerely hope that the Jackass gets his ass reamed for being such a fucking idiot… and CornerWoman too, for that matter. WTF? Talk about really dumbass decision!

And then I went to Candy Mountain, where I had my product knowledge test. I passed, I got my key, and I got my raise (have no idea what it is - AM2 thought maybe 5%?) and I got increased access to the computer system. Oh, and a security code for the store. Apparently the owner (who conducts the tests) was extra-hard on me. In fact, she even called AM2 after she’d left the store to tell her she’d been extra hard on me. I got asked all kinds of stuff, and seriously? I thought I was going to bomb it. I could barely answer anything she asked, and I really felt dumb by the end of the half hour. But I was honest when I didn’t know, so… She also told me that she’d had customers tell her what ”outstanding” customer service skills I demonstrated. Now, I don’t know what customers, but still. I’ll take it.  It was not a mistake that I went over to a customer that the Owner was speaking with and asked her how she was doing today - it happened to be the one who’s cat passed away the other day. Mamma didn’t raise no fools…

Texting with Grammar now. Don’t ask. I don’t know. I’ve practically given up on trying to figure it out. If there was a rhyme or a reason, I would have picked up on it. There isn’t. The man is, as he advised, “unfigureoutable”.

Anyway, right now, I’m high on life and enjoying every minute of it. I wish I could bottle this energy. Weekend’s almost here!

Fast as I Can

A lot happened today. Want to know the one thing that has given me the most satisfaction? I gave up, and put that oh-so-exciting keyboard that I bought a few months ago in the drawer and plugged in my old one. The one with the hard nuggets of bird poop stuck under the Function keys, and the automatic buttons for the internet and email that actually work… The new one was good, but the keys were very hard. I figured with time they’d loosen up. Clearly not the case. Anyone want a wireless keyboard and mouse??

Okay, so today, I’m sitting at Hell, wondering when, exactly, I’m going to start my new job. No idea. I looked up the email that my boss sent me on the 15th of August - all it says is “sometime in September”. Well, this afternoon, she comes and fetches me (sorry, that’s how I think of it, though I’m sure that’s not what she means by it). We head downstairs, as she tells me that she spoke with one of the head guys last night and told him that he needs to start telling people things. This is the truth - people are scared, worried, and rumours are flying like crazy because Management isn’t commenting on the restructuring plans. I completely agreed with her that telling us something - even if it’s that “we have nothing to say right now” would be better than the continued silence.

Anyway. I start my new job on Monday. Between now and then, it’s my job to think of the transition process and come up with ways to make it easier. Frankly, it would be easier if I knew who was getting my responsibilities. I know that my role is moving to a subsidiary; I guessed that part all on my own and she confirmed it today. But I don’t know who and I don’t know how. I’m thinking of going in on Sunday for a few hours - or maybe Saturday afternoon, since I have to go to CM anyway - and straighten out my files. Update my spreadsheets… I can’t think of a better way to pass on everything I do than to provide the spreadsheet detailing my communications and processes to someone else. It would be nice if they could get a hard copy of my rough drafts, but that’s an entire file drawer full of paperwork; they’re going to have to settle for me showing them my formulae and potentially transferring a few electronic files for them.

Anyway, the more I deal one-on-one with her, the more I like my boss. I mean, she did save my ass, when she didn’t have to. I realize it was a business decision, but at the same time, if she is prepared and ready to speak with you, she’s personable enough.

Saw Grandma today to pick up the money Mom had sent down that I gave to Creep the other day. She’s going well, but a cousin’s wife passed away. That’s too bad, but Grandma said she was in ill health, so sometimes, it’s really a blessing. I took her some flowers, and she really liked those. They looked quite nice; I wanted some for myself, but I’m home so seldom that flowers would really be a waste for me. The florist had some lovely sunflowers at the boutique, though… almost an orange-y gold colour with hints of red. Beautiful. Woulda looked great in my apartment…

Made myself a home-cooked meal for dinner. It’s been a long time since I did that. I like to cook, but the whole effort of cooking for one person is such a pain in the ass. I almost wish I had roommates or that I took care of someone’s house for them. Not that I want to be a glorified housekeeper, but you know, I like taking care of people. It’s what I do.

I got approval on the loan, by the way.

And T. has me craving ice cream. At about 7:30, I posted to Facebook that I was craving ice cream. At 8, I heard the ice cream truck. I IM’ed T., asked if it was her doing (the evil, bad truck). She said no, but at 7:30, she’d finished dinner with a friend and they’d gotten into the car and started discussing ice cream. She’s now running. On a treadmill. I’m eating chips and refusing to put pants on to go to the store next door and buy the ice cream I really want…

And. I sent the money to the guy to fill out the divorce paperwork for us. For a moment, I got teary-eyed. If I send him the money, and then fill out the forms, and he sends me the forms and we file them… it’s really over. Really.

Hand Me Down World

Today, one of our regular customers came in to Candy Mountain. She is a caregiver for a girl who is developmentally delayed (the girl caught measles when she was a child; her brain swelled, and now she’ll need care for the rest of her life). Anyway, the caregiver had come in last week and told us how her cat was ill; it had caught a parasite and she was working with the vet to treat the cat’s illness as best she could with the money she had.

Unfortunately, the cat passed away. The remarkable thing to me is not that the cat died, but that I almost felt this woman sucking emotion out of me. I felt, standing in front of her, that my positive mood was vanishing. True, it was terrible that this lady had lost her cat of fourteen years, but a little voice in the back of my head said, no! Back up! and so I did. I mentally took a step away from her pain and anguish and protected myself from her. T., if this is what you mean, if that’s what it’s like to have to pull back… I had to flood myself with positive thoughts, and it worked. I pushed this woman’s anxiety and sorrow off of me, like I had a shield around me. It was (as you can tell from my reaction here) a very powerful moment. My mood hasn’t been the greatest lately, and I certainly don’t need to carry around the sorrows of others.

Other than that, not much is new. I flirted with the Guy all night, but don’t feel too badly about it, as he apparently chanced a glance up my skirt while I was standing up. Twerp. I found out also that the Hungarian’s Manager at Hell was offered a package and took it. There’s no one left in that department any longer, except me. I’m sure people are wondering who I screwed to keep my job. No news on when I start the new role, but I’m getting more and more concerned about my friend’s place in the company. I really hope I’m not taking her job.

I’ve been thinking about Hockey the past few days. I don’t know why… It’s not in the sense that I want him in my life (I don’t) or that I think he’s a great guy (I don’t), but more that he’s floating around in there, as if he’s waiting for me to categorize and compartmentalize him. Really, I’ve been thinking about all the men lately. Curious1, Old Michael, NJ… I’ve sworn off the internet dating thing for a while. I still peruse the CL ads, but I couldn’t tell you what one would have to say to get me to respond. … And this is on the back of the information that Sis managed to sleep with her studly neighbour, meaning this time, I really am the loser sister… !

It’s strange, but talking to Mud the other day showed me something… It showed me how much I’ve grown in the past few months. It’s been a tough slog, but I was talking to him, and the thought occurred to me, I don’t need him.  I’m not sure I could have said that in April. It would be nice to have him in my life, yes, absolutely, but if I never heard from him again? I’d survive. And for me, that was a big realization. It wasn’t necessarily about him, alone. It was more a realization of what I’ve accomplished on my own. What I’ve managed to do. Who I’m growing up to be. Maybe Grammar really is scared of the fact that I present as a strong, independent woman. I get the feeling that guys don’t know what to do with that. I mean, T.’s always told me that, but it was a revelation to realize it might be the truth.

Too deep. lol. Here’s a poem I wrote last summer… the first few lines were inspired by Old Michael.

I fell off the world last night.
I didn’t mean for it to happen.
I just slipped from the deck and tumbled
   into velvet darkness.

With a flick of his immortal hand
Perseus plucked me to a heavenly seat;
together we watched a silver shower
illuminate the brilliant sky in his name.

How You Remind Me

Tired of livin’ like a blind man
I’m sick inside without a sense of feelin
And this is how you remind me
This is how you remind me
Of what I really am

I wasn’t going to write an entry tonight, but here I am anyway. Last night Grammar texted me at one a.m.. The text said, “Can’t remember. Should I text or sleep?” because I’d asked him earlier in the night if he was sleeping or not, as he’d been out all day Sunday. I texted him back, “[Grammar's real name, not my nickname for him], why are you texting me in the middle of the night?” His response, “This isn’t [Real Name], it’s [Nickname].” I was pissed. You know the night before, hearing about how he “randomly” texts people to see if they’re going to respond? That pissed me off. And then to get this bullshit non-answer? The nightly after-midnight texts were funny at first. Not so much anymore. I waited about half an hour, trying to cool down with little success. Then I sent him a text saying, “I’ll assume no answer is the answer. Good night, [Real Name].” A bit harsh? Perhaps. But either shit, or get off the pot. Don’t wake me up at two in the morning for your amusement. I’m not here to provide entertainment for you. It might be cute if we were dating… but we’re not, so…

I haven’t heard from him since. I expect he’s decided to vacate the pot. He posted on FB this evening, saying he might be too weird for his own good. I highly doubt it was in reference to me, but I sent him an email, asking if he thought that was really the case. No response. So,  I think we can bid a fond farewell to Grammar. I barely knew ye….

It’s too bad, I really do like him, but I’ll be damned if I’m going through this whole thing again. I’ve done this once already with Mud, and never got any satisfaction out of knowing whether he was interested or not, either. Can’t keep doing it. It’s ridiculous. I just don’t understand why we can’t be honest with each other and up-front. I like you, you like me, let’s go out again and see what happens… Nope. Like Mud… going down there last time, after I’d given up hope of anything ever happening with him, and he spent the whole day with me. Obviously the Costanza Theory works for me, but I’ll flat-out admit that I’m too emotional for that approach all the time. Give me something to work with, and I’ll let you run with it. But when I can’t tell my left from my right and I’m just slowly getting frustrated..?

Someone upstairs broke their big picture window last night. I have no idea what happened, but talked to the landlord about it this morning. It must’ve been after two (when I finally fell asleep) and before six, which is when, I believe, the Upstairsian got up. Just glad it wasn’t my window, and glad I’ve never been so angry as to throw something through a window. Though, there was that fork that stuck in the wall…

Picked up Creep and the g/f today and we went to Christie Lake. I paid the entrance fee, which was fine. We lay in the sun, ate bad hotdogs, and did a bit of swimming (mostly standing in the water just to cool off). It was a good time! Mom called while we were there, and asked if I had some cash to give to Creep. He’d called her the night before looking for some money. If I gave it to him, then she’d get my grandmother to give me the cash when she came home tomorrow. This saves my mother a trip into the city, since neither my brother nor my mother internet-bank, so she would have had to go into town to deposit the money at his bank. So I had to stop on the  way home from the beach and withdraw a couple hundred dollars for him. I’m both proud that I could do it, and a bit ticked that I had to. I never asked my parents for money - maybe three times in ten years. It’s not my place to judge, and I’m glad that he’s at least asking if he needs it, but still.

Anyway, it’s no big deal, I had the money, and I’ll get it back this week. I did have to use my entire paycheque from Candy Mountain this past time; the baseball adventure, T.’s birthday, her visit… It was a lot of extra cash I hadn’t planned on spending. On the other hand, that’s why I have the second job, and just because I didn’t get to add anything to my Rainy Day account this time around doesn’t mean I’m a bad person. I realize more and more that I have a very odd relationship with money. I will never have too much, but it’s almost like I’m hoarding it… like I want to stuff it under my mattress in ones and twos just to make sure I have it. I expect it’s because we grew up without money, and because I don’t want to ever have to go to my grandmother or my parents ever again and ask for cash.  

Oh well. I read The Outsiders last night before I fell asleep, and it made me melancholy. I just finished watching an episode of Grey’s, and that made me melancholy. I have no idea what it is with the mood swings lately. Is this what it’s like to be pregnant? If so, it blows. Talked to Sudbury tonight, too. It was nice to compare “single” experiences with someone else. I’m not the only one who finds men confusing. I know that men think women are confusing, but perhaps it’s because we’re spending so much time trying to figure out the opposite sex…

And on that note, here’s a funny link. Enjoy.

Watching Airplanes

Sittin’ out here on the hood of this truck looking up
at a caramel colored sunset sky
checkin’ my watch doin’ the math in my head
counting back words to when you said goodbye
well those runway lights are gettin’ brighter

I’m just sittin’ out here watching airplanes
take off and fly

Slept in this morning until about 11:30. I think I was justified, as I basically slept like crap last night. Grammar texted me at two thirty again. Far from finding it cute, I found it really fucking annoying, especially when his logic was that he was awake at two, and he just sends out random texts to see what the response will be. Well Jesus F. Christ. Don’t bother texting me that late again! I was less than impressed, and even less impressed when he texted me again at three, and then again at eight, asking if I was ready to be “bothered” then. No, fucker! Oh, let’s just say that Blue wasn’t pleased, hmm?

Packed my laundry in the car, then went and sat across the street in the park, in the shade of a tree with my book. It was good just to chill. Very quiet, but still outside… peaceful. T. finally called around two thirty and I made arrangements to meet her at four at her parents’ place. We did laundry together - have you see that episode of Friends where Ross takes Rachel to the laundromat for the first time? and we’re treated to this vision of Rachel trying to figure out how to do laundry? Well, it was kinda like that. Not that T.’s never done laundry before (she has) but that it was hilarious to watch her work her way around this industrial-sized laundromat - and then I drove her out to her hotel by the airport. We stopped at the Wendy’s and ate burgers while watching the planes for over an hour. It was really quite relaxing.

Now, I’m home again, and faced with the idea that I have to make the bed before I get to sleep in it, and that T. is gone and won’t be back until November.

We were talking today and last night about things. She asked me if it was harder to have the opportunity to take something you wanted, or if it was harder to want something and not have the opportunity to take it. (i.e. better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all?) I thought about it all through my shower this morning, and I decided that it’s worse to have the opportunity to take something you want and know that you really shouldn’t have it, versus wanting it really badly but never having the opportunity. Picture a chocolate bar - it’s a lot harder to turn down when it’s right in front of you, than when you’re just dreaming about having a chocolate bar but don’t actually have one. I’d rather be forced to dream about having chocolate than have it right in front of me and know I shouldn’t eat it.

I don’t think, though, that we’re ever given more temptation than we can deal with. I think - I hope - it’s a matter of being able to properly prioritize things in our lives and make decisions based on our hearts and our heads instead of rash impulse. Good things come to those who wait, as everyone keeps telling me. . . So I’m waiting for my giant chocolate bar to arrive, and in the meantime, I’m keeping T. from eating hers. Good of me, huh?

Dad called today around one and asked if I was coming up north, because he was taking the boys out on the boat. I told him that unfortunately, I had made arrangements to drop T. off already… I wish I could have gone, but my wish to go was tempered by the idea of the long weekend traffic on the way home tomorrow. It can quickly turn a three-hour drive into a four-hour debacle of motorhomes and old biddies doing less than the speed limit.

Oh well. Who knows what tomorrow will bring. It’s only 10:30, but the Upstairsian is home and pounding around. I was going to rent movies, but decided against it on my way back into town for fear that would give me an excuse to hide inside all day tomorrow. I’d like to go to a waterpark, but there’s nothing sadder than doing that on your own…

Vertigo

I was woken up last night at 2:21 a.m. when Grammar texted me to tell me he’d run over a family of squirrels. The conversation proceeded as he told me that the squirrels were holding chipmunks hostage, and he’d saved them. I cannot adequately highlight how completely absurd and totally hilarious the conversation was, not only because it took place at 2:30 on a Saturday morning…

I’ve barely heard from him since. In some ways, he’s almost like a dream; most of the contact is at night, and most of the conversations take place when I’m half-asleep. Pretty and T. both asked me today if I’ll see him again. Of course, I’d like to. But he hasn’t suggested such a thing, so… I’m sticking to the Costanza Rule.

Went to the Market this morning and bought a whack of fruit, veggies, and $16 worth of cheese. Mmm, cheese. T. came over, and we sat around lump-like for a while before taking a short trip to Zellers. I took a nap, then did groceries, made two lasagnas, and went for a walk with Pretty. We headed down past Grays Road and back. It was a beautiful night to go for a walk; no bugs, no humidity, no people. Very quiet.

Now I’m sitting here, and it’s a quarter to twelve, and I can’t think of a good reason to stay awake. I’m working my way through Watchmen and finding it a little tough; it might require more than one reading to get the full nuance. Old Michael recommended it last year as something I should read. While I always take note of others’ recommendations, I rarely follow through. In this case, though, they’re making a movie about the book, so I thought I should explore it before the movie ruins it for me.

I also hit CNN tonight and read about Gustav. I didn’t realize the hurricane was so big; they’re predicting worse conditions than they had with Katrina. New Orleans is sinkin’… The Mayor has informed the populace that they need to be scared, and they need to get their butts out of New Orleans, now. It makes me glad that I live in a place that doesn’t suffer from natural disasters.

I’m doing my best at the moment to field calls and texts from T., as I work to be her conscience. It sounds so easy, and yet, it’s not. LOL. Sometimes, you need a friend to remind you of who and what you are; to present the logical position that you simply can’t see. That’s what friends are for; supporting you at your weakest moments, propping you up, and acting as your rock… whether the situation is silly and harmless or whether it’s serious and frightening. God Bless friends. And T.? The answer’s still NO….

What if Jesus Comes Back Like That

This morning, I went into the Little Man’s office. I talked to Mud for almost an hour, I think (really the only thing that drew me in). He sounded happy to hear from me and asked when I was going back down South. I’m working on the assumption that he was just curious and didn’t really care in a personal sense … see how much I’ve grown? I don’t take everything personally anymore. It’s not always about me!!

Sat at Starbucks with T. for two hours after that. Then I went to the bank, where I found out that my application to have The Ex removed from the loan might fail because two years ago, I had bad credit. Can you see me rolling my eyes? My student loans - the ones with the bank - have a poor credit rating. Well, sure. But, uh, guys? I called them. I haven’t missed a payment in almost two years. Apparently that doesn’t stand for much. Same with the two credit cards… because I have had “some” late payments over the course of the past nine years, they show up as poor credit ratings. Um, okay. Shall we look at the history of the loan in question? Where we haven’t missed a payment in two years? Nahhhhh. Too logical. Jesus.

Then T. called me from her mother’s couch and we went out for dinner, where we had Peter the Waiter. Yes, Peter was his real name, and I’m glad that T. tipped him well, because Peter rocked our dinner. He started grating cheese on our salad and T. said, “uh, we didn’t want cheese.” He actually said, “oh, shit” and blushed. We cracked up. C’mon, look at us. Do we look like we don’t want cheese? And when I ordered a beer (Canadian), he brought a Corona, and actually walked right past the table because he realized it was wrong. He was hilarious. He also messed up our dinners (who had what), forgot the butter for our bread, never got me a glass of water, and almost brought us coffee we didn’t order.

Then T. and I sat at the table for another fifteen minutes and made ridiculous sounds as we talked about the second Charlie video. And Jesus Spam! Oh my Lord, don’t you Jesus Spam Me!! Charlie, YOU are the Banana King!!! Oh the way home, I couldn’t see, as T. drove down Centennial. I was laughing so hard my mascara ran and I got a headache.

Now I’m flirting with the Guy from CM via Facebook email (I think he thinks I want to sleep with him, and really, he’s pretty cute for a 22-year old, but that would create no end of craziness at work, don’t you think?), and talking to Grammar via text (he texted me first, so it’s okay. I didn’t break any of my rules.). I told T. tonight I was just doing the exact opposite of anything I wanted to do, and she pointed out that it worked for George Costanza. That’s me. I. Am. George. Costanza. rofl. On that note, more tomorrow.

Black Leather

Wrote a poem today. Go on down one post and read it. Go ahead, I’ll wait. I mean, there are nine or ten of you here on any given day… go take a peek.

Back? Okay.

Haven’t heard from Grammar at all today. Says something, don’t you think? I know better than to beat a dead horse, so I’m not touching that one. Disappointed? Yes. But in a realistic, meh, could be worse sort of way. Not like with Hockey where I wanted to rip my hair out. Grammar just texted me. Haven’t heard from him all day. Apparently not all is lost. God, some of you are such Doubting Thomases! (Go ahead and look it up, Chicago, I gave you a link. lol)

So I spent my day doing basically nothing at Hell. If I hadn’t been handed my separation papers two weeks ago, I’d definitely be concerned about my job. I wrote that poem, surfed a lot, got the Evil Death You’re A Fucking Moron Glare from the Jackass, and didn’t back down with the Coworker when he tried to tell me I was wrong about something when I don’t think I was. I finally looked at him, said, “Okay”, and turned around. He laughed in surprise, but stopped pursuing the matter. Clearly we stood on opposite sides of the issue. 

Wrote that poem, freaked out Chicago. I was in a rotten, rotten mood today. Like, PMS bad. For no reason, and I just couldn’t shake it. So many reasons why, and so many of them stupid, that it just made me more angry, of course. After I wrote the poem, I felt better. I don’t think it’s that bad, really (the poem, I mean). I think it’s the first decent thing I’ve written in a while.

Went to Candy Mountain, where I expected to receive my product knowledge test, but turns out the boss got my schedule wrong and now it’s pushed to some time next week. Spent the evening shamelessly flirting with the Guy and getting a bit of work done. I’m sure he’s still asking himself right now whether I really am wearing underwear, or not. Cruel? Maybe a little. But c’mon. It put me in a better mood?

Talked to T. on the way home from CM; she’s going back to the Little Man’s office tomorrow. I’m warring with myself about going in… If I do, I could get up early and get dressed and trot out there to meet her. Spend a couple of hours, maybe, but all it would really do is hurt my heart and make me wish I was back there. I don’t understand the lure, and it’s not just T. that makes me want to be there. I miss the people in the South, I miss my friends, I miss the satisfaction I got out of doing a job well and getting appreciation for it. I like to HELP people, and there I was good at it. At Hell, not so much. Appreciation is a big deal for me, apparently. Even if I never got any from the Little Man, knowing that other people thought I was good at my job was enough.

(Indigo is behind me on the desk, eating his seed stick. I think he thinks he’s getting away with something because he’s behind me. Silly bird.)

Well, I don’t have much else to say. That’s pretty much my day in a nutshell. Chicago, I feel better, don’t panic, you can keep your rock for now, I don’t need it. Funny how a little depressing poetry and some highly sexual flirting can brighten a woman’s mood!