All Over The Place Today, & Pretty Depressing Too

Today, I am doped to the gills with muscle realigned and pain meds, so forgive the wandering train of thought. I still hurt like mad and am ready to give up on ever being pain free again. I most sincerely regret every accident I have ever been in because I am paying for them now. It sucks and sucks mightily. I keep trying to comfort myself with the knowledge that I know why I get migraines and bad headaches. I know why my back routinely decides not to play nice and I pinch nerves.

It is all because of a year of accidents - fell down 2 flights of stairs, through another flight of stairs, 5 car accidents (I was not driving in any of them which is a real pisser), and a homicidal maniac for a neighbor. All of this will result in a life time of weak joints and chipped bones. Throw in the mix the genetic "gift" of arthritis and I have got pain. Constant pain. Nagging pain. Really fucking annoying pain. And since my back decided to give out again yesterday, I am feeling surly. Yeah, surly is a good term for my mood.

It does not help my mood to have "found" another abandoned dog. There were 2 dogs dropped of in the woods and they have been running free for about 2-3 weeks now. This past Tuesday morning, the 1 was in the ditch dead and rapidly decomposing. As in, after being dead less than 4 days, she is nothing but scattered bones. An odditity which makes me suspect her death was encouraged by some son of a bitch who deserves to be staked out over an ant hill coated in honey with a light dusting of salt once the ants start eating.

The other, now truly alone, dog, came up to me this morning and she seems to be a doll. An incredibly dirty doll, but still. What added to my surly quotient is how she came up to me. No dog should ever, EVER, crawl on its belly. No dog should be so afraid that it not only belly crawls but whimpers, has its tail tucked, and is terrified of any loud noise. Since this looks to be a fairly young dog, my desire to beat the crap out of whomever did this to her is in direct proportion to her cringing. She was afraid to eat until I put her and the food in an open area and walked away. I know it won't take long for her to get over that because any animal that stays with me quickly figures out I am a massive wimp, but I hate seeing any animal cringe.

As it is, I am going to wait & see how well she settles in before taking her to the vet, naming her, etc. I can not afford another animal of my own, but I do not trust the Humane Society and would rather skip a few meals myself rather than doom an animal to death. And in this dogs case, it helps that she is a cute dog. She looks like some sort of German Shepherd mix, oddly enough. I'd say a grey hound judging by the way she moves and how her pack mate looked. I think they might have been litter mates that the owner could not find homes for so the dogs were just dumped. No way to tell now. All I know is that the other 2 dogs do not mind her and want to play, she needs a bath so that I can at least tell if she is all white or not, and is very young and very nervous.

Beyond that, I spent this mornings abbreviated walk and the drive to work distracting myself by contemplating my personal trust issues. It was/is rather odd to realize that part of the reason I would never learn how to scuba dive is because I have to trust not only the instructor, but also whomever I go diving with in the future. There is no one in my life that I would trust that much. The closest would be my sister, but since she is an epileptic with grand mal seizures, I am not brave enough to risk either of our lives on the hope that her meds will hold out.

I realized that all of my hobbies and activities are solitary in nature and that I actively seek ways to be by myself. I mean, my hobbies include going to zoos and museums - fun to do either by yourself or with a group. I adore kayaking and fully intend to 1 day have my own so that I can go out by myself. As it is, I do not care to go with friends because I want to be alone so badly. Which is really shitty of me because obviously the few people who keep nagging at me to get out think I am fun to hang out with and I keep saying no. Then there is my reading addiction, which is going to become extremely expensive. I enjoy movies, but would vastly prefer to watch them at home. I do jigsaw puzzles, though that is partially because I glue them together & then frame them because the puzzles tend to be cheaper than the posters. I also get a sense of satisfaction, knowing that I put the picture together. I go for long walks, weather permitting. All of these are solitary activities.

I thought about all my past relationships and realized just how many barriers I put up so that I would not be risking myself. Then I went down memory lane a snarled some more over the memory of my ex-fiance informing me how my father would NOT be walking me down the aisle. The engagement ended soon after that. Thought about everyone who came after and realized not only how short that list is, but also how I helped keep them separate from me and my life. There was only one with whom I actually lazed around, watched TV, read, and just relaxed with. I have never gone out on a "date" where we held hands, or just wandered the malls. My ex-fiance never liked malls, and holding hands was "a pain."

Now I am starting to realize why so many of my girl friends are telling me to get out. I am most definitely turning in to an anti-social hermit. If I do not get out of this area soon, I am going to become a stereotype. YUCK!

And I know that I will be asked this, but why do I feel like leaving this area is the answer? Because I have been here for too long. I have never found a position that allowed me to pay bills and eat without massive outside assistance. I have a limited number of friends, and most of them live in other states and are seriously worried about me because the list of options that I find enjoyable is so slim around here. I am not a country girl. I might have grown up in the boon docks, but I do not enjoy it. I prefer areas where I can walk to the corner deli and get a good hoagie - NOT SUBWAY! - and then go to the park or board walk and people watch. I like going on the subway to the malls and to the museums and gardens. I enjoy being surrounded by people who do not know my name, religious affiliation, my menstrual cycle, age, weight, shoe/bra sizes, my co-workers & bosses name/phone number/address, their spouse's/children/pets, my car tag number, etc. I get tired of everyone knowing everyone else's business, and then commenting on it.

And this situation/blogging does not count. After reading this, most will completely forget. Not go have discussions with family members and then come back the next day with the ideas discussed over the dinner table.

I then realized that I was about to fall asleep at the wheel, so I refreshed my memory of the 1 person guaranteed to get my blood pumping. Many moons ago, there was a very tall girl with excessive amounts of confidence. The bitch was friends with a sweet little girl who was very sheltered. Through a series of events, the bitch & the sheltered child met up with yours truly. So life progressed and various events came to pass. One of them, which still makes me want to bite something, was a statement made by the bitch.

According to her, she was the dramatic, sexual creature men wanted to date. The sheltered girl was the one men wanted to take home to mom & eventually marry. I was the one men wanted to fuck.

Attempts have been made to make that more palatable. The closest was how I should view that as a jealousy-based remark because I am a "more sensual and sexual creature who just gives off the vibe that I enjoy sex." I thought that was an excellent attempt to get in the sack with me, but needed LOTS of work.

What has worn the sharp edges off the obnoxious comment is how life has played out since then. I tend to gloat most unattractively when I contemplate this, so forgive me. The bitch has been married - several times now. And each time, she has needed liposuction to fit in to the gown. And in most cases, the marriage partner was the best friend of her soon-to-be ex-husband. Last I heard, she was working as a construction worker. The sheltered one has gone from a size 6 to a size 20, been married, had a child, divorced, shacked up with another man, had a child with him, he left her with the children, and she is now living with her parents in Atlanta and making minimum wage. I am still a size 6-8, no children, no liposuction, and while poor as a church mouse, I can say that my mistakes affect only me and no one else. And the best part? The bitch had to have liposuction. I love it!

Blah Blah Blah

I am just rambling today. I am on break having my tea and figured I would entertain myself this way. I have already done today's chores so I have been reading blocs. One that I got a kick out of is the spinster war diaries. She has a post up about how unfair it is that some of the ugliest and/or bitchiest get boyfriends, but she (& many other normal women) have no one.

I have a theory but its not quite perfect, so this is my sounding board. Feel free to edit, correct, dispute, or agree to hearts content.

Part of the reason so many truly ugly women have boyfriends/husbands is because they are "safe." A man knows that a woman with a lot of extra weight is going to do her best to make him happy. Or if she is never going to win any prizes for looks, then once again, he can be a complete ass and she will smile and say nothing. And if she has no teeth? Well, there is a sick male fantasy involving a short woman and no teeth that solves that mini-mystery.

And the drop dead gorgeous women? They end up married fairly quickly because of that competition aspect of humanity. If a truly beautiful woman is not married then it is because she made the choice.

So why are there so many normal/average women not married? Because we are not "safe," but there is no need to hurry up and compete for our attention. We will still be there when the guys are done wandering, though since we demand something of the men in our lives we are too much effort for those men who want a nice "safe" relationship. Granted by the time men notice we are breathing, tempers are a bit frayed and the smiling compromise era is over. There is no way that anyone over the age of 26 is going to retire in silence when a difference of opinion comes up. The ability to stand up for yourself has been learned and perfected by that point.

This is just a working theory with numerous holes and I know it. But it is a start and it helps me keep my temper.

I hate to think of what I come sort of personality I come across as having on this blog. I am anything but blood thirsty, and I am awful at handling confrontations. Yet I use this blog as my way of venting and what comes across is probably an extremely anti-social bitch.

Hmmm . . .

Maybe not so far off there.

Now all I have to do is find a safe way to vent about family & my version of a love life and all will be wonderful. Which reminds me, why is it so necessary for people to be married? I am asked on average once a day if I am married and if I have kids. The answer is a definite no. I sometimes smile while saying "NO!" but it is still a giant no. So what is the deal? Why is it so hard for others to comprehend that I know myself well enough to have the self-knowledge that marriage would be a bad idea for me? (And yes, I was just asked - AGAIN!)

I know that I am anti-social after working all day. The odds are rather high that I do not want to go out for dinner, drinks, or a movie. I get the wigglies when forced to bars and other local hang outs, especially if they are noisy and crowded. Large groups of people leave me with a massive headache and utterly exhausted. So why would I want to torture myself for fun? The closest to enjoying a large group of people is when I go to meetings and conferences. That is only because I know most of the people, it will be under controlled circumstances and I know when I will be able to get mental breaks, and I tend to get "stuff." I am always fond of getting more stuff after all. I also enjoy going to zoos and museums, but that is not quite the same thing.

I also know that I do not trust that many people to get close on any level. I have yet to come across any reason why I should be willing to develop trust with more people. And I definitely have yet to come across any reason why I should be willing to trust anyone to the point that I want to not only spend the rest of my life with them, but share a bed with them as well. I have a rough enough time sleeping as it is!

The weirdness factor comes from the fact that I have little to no personal modesty and tend not to notice people physically unless they resemble an ugly animal or just smell bad. Those individuals, I just tend to avoid because I have a hard time not asking dumb questions like, "you do know that you look like a bull frog?" Or even worse, "when was the last time you took a shower?"

Can I Request a Limited Zombie Invasion?

I am not ready for a real zombie invasion, but after the past 2 days of absolute chaos I would really appreciate it if a zombie invasion would descend on Atlanta & DC. In particular, eat Gov. Purdue. I'll provide the salt, pepper, ketchup, what ever is requested.

Why am I feeling so blood thirsty? For those who are lucky enough to not be effected by this, the Gov. of GA requested that as many counties as possible in GA cancel school for the past 2 days (this Monday & Tuesday). By 6 pm yesterday, I was ready to gut the next parent who dropped off their children & left to "go run errands." This is actually code for getting a smoke without a hassle.

Because this request by the gov. was made at about 4 pm Friday, there was no time for teachers to create assignments to keep the little darlings occupied on Monday & Tuesday of this week. Because there was no assignments or arrangements made, there was nothing the parents could do but scramble madly for a baby sitter to watch the little angels. Many parents failed naturally enough, so the malls, libraries, YMCA's, rec departments, and other facilities were over run with the little brats.

It was absolutely insane for the past 2 days & we just now managed to wrap everything up, scrape the gum of the computers, pull the candy wrappers out of the disk drives, put the books back in order, and generally return the building to a working order. The best parts were when the adults threw fits because little rug rats were on the computers and they had to wait. Keeping a smile was not easy. Especially since I got here an hour late thanks to having my car fixed and that made for all sorts of headaches.

Side note - I am anything but irreplaceable here at work. Yet every time I am late by an hour or more, leave early, take a day off, whatever, I am stunned by how my revoltingly empty desk amasses huge quantities of papers, books, notes, and stuff that no one else is willing to deal with. And that includes notes telling me that someone called to order material we do not have and so the requested title was put on our "wish list." Just do it! Listen to Nike! It works!

Anyway, zombie lama has a post about how he has too much stuff. I can not say that I understand the idea. I tend to throw away or give away at least 4 boxes of old stuff I no longer use every 3 months. There are odds & ends I have kept since before my birth, but that is because they were bought to celebrate my birth & that's the happiest thought I know of. Knowing that someone was glad that you were conceived is just cool. Whether or not you would recognize one another now with name tags is a trivial detail. When you were conceived and born, they were happy you simply were.

Books are another matter entirely. I have too many books and I tend not to buy as many as I would like. I certainly read dozens each month that I check out from 1 of the many libraries I have access too. But stuff? Being able to keep my home pared down to the necessities is a wonderful feeling, especially when it comes time to dust.

I have been thinking of what I would grab up if ever I had to evacuate because of a hurricane. That, along with whether or not I really want to move the (fill in the blank) when it comes time to next relocate, are the 2 thoughts I keep in mind when I go to buy. Following those, I debate on whether I would use or wear it, and with what. If the answers are all positive, and I actually need it, then I buy it. But, getting back to the point, thanks to Katrina & Rita, I have realized that with a few exceptions that will be corrected by this coming Sunday, I can have the easily moved portions of my belongs packed up & loaded in my car in under 3 hours. That includes my cats. The rest of it, well, I need a truck so they stay. All my truly important stuff is in the car.

If the disaster is an earthquake or zombie invasion, well, I am doomed. Especially if it is a zombie invasion because I tend towards the iron skillet home defense systems rather than any-caliber weapons. Though I do have a frightening number of knives thanks to my late grandmother. Why she had over 3 dozen carving/butcher/bread knives is beyond me, but they are all mine. Scary.



P.S.
I got this via email today. Anyone know how accurate it is? It would not surprise me either way, but I am curious.
Poor grieving Cindy....Tough Life. . . . . . .camping outside Bush's Ranch
More about Cindy . . What is most interesting is that the press gives this little bunch of people who are protesting with Cindy so much air time without discussing Cindy's background. This is a case of more press bias. It's been pointed out on just a couple of media outlets that Cindy divorced her first husband and left her son with him to be raised while she became a political activist for the Democratic Party. She had very little to do with her son in his growing years. She remarried. The 1st husband remarried. The original father raised the son with his new wife. They miss their son and mourn the loss of his life. They have stated that they are very proud of their son and that they agree with the stance of America in Iraq and on terror. They said that their son was eager to serve and to go fight the terrorists in Iraq. He volunteered. How many news stations carried their interview? Not many.
So the son dies in Iraq and then Cindy shows up to make a stink. She gets an audience with Bush. That was not enough. She goes to Crawford and demands another audience. How many news stations carry the ongoing saga of Cindy? Practically all of them.
Cindy didn't care about her son. She let another woman raise him. Cindy doesn't care about the other soldiers in Iraq. Cindy cares about her liberal, feminist agenda and about using the death of her son to lobby against Republicans andBush. And the press is helping her. Why?
Then a few days ago, Cindy's 2nd husband filed for a divorce from Cindy. Cindy sounds like a feminist opportunist who did not have the sense of responsibility to even raise her own son. It looks like her 2nd husband is fed up with Cindy. We middle Americans should be fed up with Cindy also. We should be fed up with the press. They manipulate us into their "group think" and into the responses that they want on their polls.

It Is Officially Boring

Well, I am officially on the path for gainful employment in Tennessee. I spent a large chunk of this evening looking at jobs and managed to find several that look good and sent in my application. Now I just need to get the jobs and Lord knows I am praying, begging, demanding, nagging, whining, and generally being obnoxious about the matter.

It all boils down to the fact that I want out of Georgia and would really like to have a life. It gets old going home and knowing that all I accomplished was sending out my resume and blogging. I vastly prefer knowing that I managed to organize an event and pulled it off. Or that my presentation went well and we got the money. Or that the bathrooms are now clean and the litter boxes have been bleached. Anything is better than being a cipher here at work. And I hate having to choose between food on the table or gas in the car. I have always managed to keep the utilities on one way or another, but I am tired of living off $1200/month. I know that is nothing awful & there are millions who would kill to have that much, but I am used to better paychecks & I REALLY miss those. Just as I am used to doing more with my brain than feeding it candy and generally shutting it off for 8 hours of work (+ 2 for driving & add 1 more for lunch) out of each day.

Yesterday, after spending way to much time cleaning the old home stead, and bleach really is a wonderful scent (NOT!), but I plopped down with exmi to watch some anime. Among other things, we covered how the cold, aloof, uncaring characters/people always say that caring is not worth it and how they refuse to go through the pain of losing someone they love. Exmi is right in that there really are not that many ways to express that emotional protection, but there should be! It's like the evil madman always has the scary laugh and details his evil plot right before the miracle occurs and the good guys win the day. I like it when, every now and again, the bad guy just kills the good guy and never tells what fiendish plot he is brewing. I want the synopsis after the good guys win the day , yes, but lets wait until the end, OK? Let's try something new occasionally.

I am trying to think of how a character could convey that they do not trust humanity not to hurt them if they care without sounding like an idiot or a professor. Not that there is much difference, but there are miniscule differences. Any ideas are welcome. Right now I am still reeling from the liberal amount of bleach I used yesterday to clean the car and the homestead. I know there are safer alternatives, but when I clean, then it will be cleaned and sanitized to the point you can eat of it. The cats do there best to destroy that level of perfection just be stretching and shedding madly, but that is just 1 facet of their reason to exist. The rest is because they are the center of the universe and have done a fairly good job of managing events so that no one blows themselves up too often.

A Bunch of hokum

Well, this has been a great weekend. (Please feel free to ladle sarcasm liberally on there.)

Friday was a grand day. I managed to crawl out of bed fairly early and take my ass for a thinning walk mixed with sprints. Once I got back, the day just became thrilling. I had a beautiful flat tire. Since, as I quickly discovered, I do not have a car jack, I winced and drove to the gas station, and prayed - a lot. There, the flat tire had gone beyond flat straight to shredded. Fortunately, a wonderful gentleman was kind enough to loan me his car jack AND change the tire. All I had to do was listen to him while he worked hard and practiced his Sunday sermon on me. I can live with that.

I then manage to get my donutted car to the mechanic's. There the news was less than stellar. The tires my car needs are no longer made so I had a choice of what type of replacement I wanted. I went for the $60 pair because they would last longer. That was the easy part.

Next, the mechanics tore my car apart because there were squeals and oil leakage every where. This is really depressing, but I get to go in on Monday before work so they can tear the oil pan out, check seals, replace belts, and generally fix everything so that my car will no longer squeal or drip oil onto those unimportant things like the alternator, timing belt, compressor, etc. I can't wait to kill 4 hours sitting in the waiting room & then write a $400+ check.

So $177 later, I was able to escape with my new tires around 4 pm from the mechanics. I then went to Wal-Mart and got something to eat, blessing my father because he had sent me some extra cash because otherwise life would have been VERY thin over the next 2 weeks.

But that is going to be a positive. (I am done whining & intend to start looking for the silver linings.) Thanks to the fact that I am going to be beyond broke for the next 2 weeks, I should be able to break my Reese's Peanut Butter Cup addiction, which should aid in my endeavor to drop the next 5 lbs. I am going to be home almost every night for the next 2 weeks so I will be able to get caught up on my reading and household chores. I will have the time to do some serious apartment & job hunting as well.

In fact, I have made a decision as of this morning. I decided that I am going to start submitting my writing more often and also start looking strictly in Tennessee/Kentucky for my next job. I want to move away from here and have seasons again. I like seasons. I do not want to move to a place with 9 month winters, or summers, or anything like that. I just want seasons so that I can watch the leaves change color and gripe about the snow and how cold it is and actually enjoy the summer months instead of waiting for the cooler breezes of October.

Now all I have to do is decide what I want to be when I grow up. Because I enjoy having a benefit package, I am seriously considering getting my teaching certificate and going with that particular lifestyle. I certainly would have time for a life and be able to read too my hearts content. I would not teach, but work as a media specialist (librarian) and actually have to be responsible and other such nonsense, but I know how to fake it.

I would also be doing something which has a definite appeal on days like this.

Only real downside is that I would have to actually pay attention to who was in the bathroom. I despise monitoring that sort of activity, but it seems to be a major issue at all levels any more. If anyone can explain that mystery to me, please do. I am constantly bewildered by why people feel the need to tell me they "have to go potty." I am not anyone's mother and I expect that anyone over 8 years of age can handle the basic plumbing functions without announcing that they need to go and will be right back.

Or am I being to demanding of humanity?

Changing subjects, but I am beginning to understand why posting pictures is a good/bad idea. It is a good thing so that people like me can have the nosy aspect of their personality satisfied as to what a person looks like. There are several people whose blog's I routinely read I am now curious to know what they look like. EX: zombie slayer, after your class issue posting, I am really curious so that I could have a better understanding of where you are coming from on a personal level. And zombielama, lets just leave it at curiosity, OK?

I want to take this as an opportunity to thank high desert diva, joe, exmi, 3-score, and others for posting their pics so that my curiosity can be satisfied.

However, gunngirl, both zombie's, mental meanderings, and everyone else, it is driving me even closer to insanity wondering what you look like. And yes, this is the pot calling the kettle, but I admit that most of my reason is that I have not posted a picture is because I can not get the blasted .jpg to load. If anyone can help me figure out just what the system is doing (or not) I would post with great joy and abandon.

Continuing to look at the silver linings, I have managed over the past 3 days to get some serious reading accomplished. That equals to a large quantity of bliss in my personal lexicon of life.

I managed to finish Jennifer Scales and the Ancient Furnace by MaryJanice Davidson & her husband. For anyone with young teenagers who like fantasy, GRAB THE BOOK NOW! I have already recommended it to a lot of parents and at least 2 have come back with words of thanks. The teens read it with only minimum fussing and actually laughed. For some reason, the parents were awestruck by that. I read my copy and found it to be a fun read with remarkably accurate family interactions. The part I liked the best is that the arguments never strayed into the realm of cliches & ridiculousness like so many other teen authors end up doing.

I also read Splintered Icon by Bill Napier. Don't bother unless you like bad great race style mysteries with even worse dialogue and trains of thought that are so far past believable that the Tooth Fairy becomes more realistic by the end of the book.

After those, I re-read Demon's Gate. Standard sword & sorcery fare. Nothing new or exciting. I also breezed through Master's of Fantasy, edited by Fawcett. That collection was fun and meant that I re-read some of the longer versions of the same stories in the collection just because I wanted to.

Then there was Neil Gaiman's Anasasi Boy's. READ IT! If you like Neil Gaimon, then this will be another great read for you. I also like the Spider God Anasasi and how his tricks turn out to be the best that could happen. They might not be what I want to happen in my life, but the Trickster God's are always fascinating. In a stand way back, with binoculars preferably, and watch sort of way. The book itself was generally light compared to some of what he has produced in the past, but it is definitely worth the read.

I also read Raven's Shadow by Patricia Briggs. I was finally able to lay my hands on the blasted book and was on the verge of a breakdown because it was so annoying trying to get the book. Overall, I liked it. I know many will not because there really were some flaws, but since I like the bad guy to be dead at the end in a satisfactorily humiliating way while the good guys get all they so richly deserve, then I am happy. Since I was finally able to lay my hands on a copy of the stinking book, I am pretty happy anyway. I will give a fairer opinion once the euphoria wears off.

Well, I wish that I could say that I did something, anything, else over the past 3 days. But, I did not and can't even fake it. Oh well. I enjoyed almost all of the past few days and intend to enjoy the next few as well. Minus the 4+ hours at the mechanics with the painful conclusion when I write a $400 check that is.

For a Laugh

This was emailed to me today & thought it worth sharing. Remember - THIS IS NOT ME! This is an emailed joke that I am sharing. My examples of horrible moments rarely involve phone calls.


Ah, yes, the easy to do at home hair removal waxing kit....
All hair removal methods have tricked women with their promises of easy, painless removal - The epilady, scissors, razors, Nair and now...the wax.
My night began as any other normal weeknight. Come home, fix dinner, play with the kids. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next few hours: "Maybe I should pull the waxing kit out of the medicine cabinet." So I headed to the site of my demise: the bathroom. It was one of those "cold wax" kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the strips together in your hand, they get warm and you peel them apart and press them to your leg (or wherever else) and you pull the hair right off. No muss, no fuss. How hard can it be? I mean, I'm not a genius, but I am mechanically inclined enough to figure this out. (YA THINK!?!)
So I pull one of the thin strips out. Its two strips facing each other stuck together. Instead of rubbing them together, my genius kicks in so I get out the hair dryer and heat it to 1000 degrees. ("Cold wax," yeah...right!) I lay the strip across my thigh. Hold the skin around it tight and pull. It works! OK, so it wasn't the best feeling, but it wasn't too bad. I can do this! Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am She-rah, fighter of all wayward body hair and maker of smooth skin extraordinaire.
With my next wax strip I move north. After checking on the kids, I sneak back into the bathroom, for the ultimate hair fighting championship. I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet. Using the same procedure, I apply the was strip across the right side of my bikini line, covering the right half of my vagina and stretching down to the inside of my butt cheek (Yes, it was a long strip) I inhale deeply and brace myself....RRRRIIIPPP!!!!
I'm blind!!! Blinded from pain!!!!....OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!! Vision returning, I notice that I've only managed to pull off half the strip. CRAP!!! Another deep breath and RRIIPP!! Everything is swirly and spotted. I think I may pass out...must stay conscious...Do I hear crashing drums??? Breathe, breathe...OK, back to normal.
I want to see my trophy - a wax covered strip, the one that has caused me so much pain, with my hairy pelt sticking to it. I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold up the strip! There's no hair on it. Where is the hair??? WHERE IS THE WAX???
Slowly I ease my head down, foot still perched on the toilet. I see the hair. The hair that should be on the strip. I touch. I am touching wax. CRAP! I run my fingers over the most sensitive part of my body, which is now covered in cold wax and matted hair.
Then I make the next BIG mistake...remember my foot is still propped up on the toilet? I know I need to do something. So I put my foot down. DAMN!!!!!!!! I hear the slamming of a cell door. Vagina? Sealed shut! Butt?? Sealed shut!
I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to figure out what to do and think to myself "Please don't let me get the urge to poop. My head may pop off!" What can I do to melt the wax? Hot water!! Hot water melts wax!! I'll run the hottest water I can stand into the bathtub, get in, immerse the wax-covered bits and the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it off, right???
*W RONG!!!!!!!*
I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter than that used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment - I sit. Now, the only thing worse than having your nether regions glued together, is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of the tub...in scalding hot water. Which, by the way, doesn't melt cold wax. So, now I'm stuck to the bottom of the tub as though I had cement-epoxied myself to the porcelain!! God bless the man who had convinced me a few months ago to have a phone put in the bathroom!!!!!
I call my friend, thinking surely she has waxed before and has some secret of how to get me undone. It's a very good conversation starter - "So, my butt and who-ha are glued together to the bottom of the tub!" There is a slight pause. She doesn't know any secret tricks for removal but she does try to hide her laughter from me. She wants to know exactly where the wax is located, "Are we talking cheeks or hole or who-ha?" She's laughing out loud by now...I can hear her. I give her the rundown and she suggests I call the number on the side of the box. YEAH!!!!! Right!! I should be the joke of someone else's night! While we go through various solutions, I resort to scraping the wax off with a razor. Nothing feels better then to have your girlie goodies covered in hot wax, glued shut, stuck to the tub in super hot water and then dry-shaving the sticky wax off!! By now the brain is not working, dignity has taken a major hike and I'm pretty sure I'm going to need Post-Traumatic Stress counseling for this event.
My friend is still talking with me when I finally see my saving grace....the lotion they give you to remove the excess wax. What do I really have to lose at this point? I rub some on and OH MY GOD!!!!!!!
The scream probably woke the kids and scared the dickens out of my friend. It's sooo painful, l but I really don't care. "IT WORKS!! It works!!" I get a hearty congratulation from my friend and she hangs up. I successfully remove the remainder of the wax and then notice to my grief and despair....THE HAIR IS STILL THERE.......ALL OF IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!. So I recklessly shave it off. Heck, I'm numb by now. Nothing hurts. I could have amputated my own leg at this point.
Next week I'm going to try hair color......

USS Alligator

Here is something fun for the archeologists in the group. The USS Alligator is apparantly on the "to be found" list and I met 1 of the gentlemen who is going to work on the project. I found the entire site, as well as the conversation, absolutely fascinating.

Random Thoughts for Today

Some odds & ends. My world has been rather narrow since last Friday thanks to a migraine mixed with a pulled back (which was a level of hell I can not endorse). Fortunately, muscle relaxants, pain killers, sleep, and long, hot showers worked their magic and my intellect has started to expand back to its normal boundaries. Still limited a bit thanks to left over pain & drugs, but no longer incapacitated. Thank the Lord & all deities known to mankind.

1. OK, I admit my tastes are a bit off from most, but when did someone like the Italian soccer referee Pierluigi Collina become a sex symbol? I was listening to NPR this morning & that came on. So since I have an abundance of resources and time, I figured I would check it out. Thank you, Google! I am now incredibly confused and wondering just what am I missing that he is considered "1 of the most virile men on the soccer field"?

2. These are 2 different ways of saying the same thing that I received today vis email.

Things I have learned from watching the news about hurricane Katrina on TV.........
The hurricane only hit black family properties.
New Orleans was devastated and no other city was affected by the hurricane.
Mississippi is reported to have a tree blown down.
New Orleans has no white people.
The hurricane blew a limb off a tree in the yard of an Alabama resident.
When you are hungry after a hurricane steal a big screen TV and Nike footware.
The hurricane did 23 billion dollars in improvements to New Orleans, and now the city has no welfare recipients, looters, or gangs; they have moved to your city.
White folks don't make good news stories.
Don't give thanks to the thousands that came to help rescue you, instead bitch because the government hasn't given you a debit card yet.
Only black family members got separated in the hurricane rescue efforts.
Ignore warnings to evacuate and the white folks will come get you and give you money for being stupid.
Oh, and it is all George Bush's fault.
In Katrina I Didn't See Racism, I Saw Brotherhoodby Rabbi Aryeh SperoPosted Sep 7, 2005 In New Orleans, beginning Tuesday morning, August 30, I saw men in helicopters risking their lives to save stranded flood victims from rooftops. The rescuers were White, the stranded Black. I saw Caucasians navigating their small, private boats in violent, swirling, toxic floodwaters to find fellow citizens trapped in their houses. Those they saved were Black. I saw Brotherhood. New York Congressman Charlie Rangel saw Racism. Yes, there are Two Americas. One is the real America, where virtually every White person I know sends money, food or clothes to those in need -- now and in other crises -- regardless of color. This America is colorblind. The other is the America fantasized and manufactured by Charlie Rangel,Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton, who constantly cry "racism!" even in situations where it does not exist, even when undeniable images illustrate love, compassion and concern. These three men, together with today's NAACP, want to continue the notion of Racist America. It is their Mantra, their calling card. Their power, money, and continued media appearances depend on it. Often, people caught up in accusing others of sin neglect to undergo their own personal introspection. They begin to think they alone inhabit the moral high ground. It is high time these men peered into their own hearts at the dark chamber that causes this unceasing labeling of their fellow Americans as "racist." They may find in that chamber their own racism -- against Whites. There is only one real America. Beginning Friday morning in Houston, thousands of regular citizens poured into the Astrodome offering water, food, clean clothes, personal items, baby diapers and toys, love and even their homes to the evacuees who had been bused in from New Orleans. Most of the givers were White, most of those being helped were Black. But there was Jesse Jackson, busy on TV, accusing the country of not putting Blacks -- i.e., him -- on some type of Commission he is demanding. Where was he early in the week? Not sweating with others from around the country who had scraped their last dollar to come help. With Jesse, it's always about Jesse. After decades of hearing accusations from Jesse, Al, Charlie, the NAACP and certain elitists about how racist America is, it would have been refreshing to hear them for once give thanks to those they for years have been maligning. These self-anointed spokesmen for the Black community lead only when it comes to foisting guilt and condemnation, and not when it comes to acknowledging the good in those they have made a career in castigating. As a Rabbi I have a message I wish to offer to my fellow members of the cloth, Reverends Jackson and Sharpton: It is time to do some soul searching. Your continued efforts to tear this country apart, even in light of the monumental goodness shown by your White brothers, is a sin. There are no churches in the world like the American churches. And there are no better parishioners and members of churches anywhere in the world. These churches are saving the day. Their members -- infused by the special and singular teachings of our unique American Judeo-Christian understanding of the Bible -- are, at this moment, writing an historic chapter in giving, initiative, and selflessness. They are opening their homes to strangers. They are doing what government is incapable of doing. America works because of its faith-based institutions. It always has.That is what makes it America. So next time the ACLU tries to diminish and marginalize the churches, saying there is no role for religion in American public life, that an impenetrable wall must be erected separating the citizens from their faith, cry out "Katrina." Next time the ACLU goes to court asking that U.S. soldiers not be allowed to say Grace in the Mess Hall and that communities be forbidden from setting up a nativity scene, ask yourself: without the motivation of Goodness sourced in Faith, would people offer such sacrifice? Where else does this Brotherhood come from but the Bible which teaches "Thou Shall Love Thy Neighbor as Yourself." I saw brotherhood on Fox News, where 24/7 reporters used their perch as a clearing-house for search-and-rescue missions and communication between the stranded and those in position to save. In contrast, the Old-line networks continued with their usual foolish, brain-numbing programming.Those who always preach "compassion" chose profit over people. The New York Times has utterly failed America. Its columnists could have used their talents and word skills to inspire and unite a nation.Columnists such as Frank Rich and Paul Krugman, however, revealed their true colors by evading their once-in-a-lifetime chance to help and instead chose to divide, condemn, and fuel the fires and poison the waters of Louisiana. In them, I saw no Brotherhood. The newspaper always preaching "compassion" verifies Shakespeare's "They protest too much." Similar elitists here in the northeast and on the west coast have over the years expressed their view of the South as "unsophisticated" andTexans as "cowboys." Well, the South has come through, especially Houston and other parts of Texas, whereas, as I write this on Labor Day, the limousine moralizers are lying on east and west coast beaches thinking they're doing their part by reading Times' editorials and calling George Bush "racist." How sanctimonious life becomes when proving you are not a racist depends not on living in a truly integrated neighborhood, but by simply calling others racist. Like so often in history, facts trump platitudes. Reality reigns. Those who always preach brotherhood, thus far have acted devoid of it. Those who for decades have been accused by elitists of not having compassion are the ones living it. They are: the churches, the military, and the sons and daughters of the South.

3. It is great to be able to say "I told you so!" I have lots of physical evidence, not the least of which being that I am not the out doorsey type to prove that why, yes, I do have a Peeping Tom & the perv has been growing bolder. He has started moving the tables & such so that he can have a better perch from which to watch as I go to bed. It must be really exciting watching me clip my cats nails & sleep, but who am I to judge? So long as he/they remain OUTSIDE I am willing to look at the bright side, you know?
But I still get to say, "I TOLD YOU!"

4. I really want a better job. I hate it that my income is so low that I can't even justify Netflix until after Christmas. It is beyond annoying. Though I must admit that I might get over my issues and just say to hell with some other basic food group and go on a strict slim fast diet. I would lose lots of weight & be entertained all at once. I think it is a workable plan. All I have to do is give up my Reeses' Peanut Butter cups & all will be kosher. HA!

5. I have been able to actually accomplish some reading lately. Nothing too demanding, but I enjoy the manga books. Not much to say about them, beyond they are always fun to read and the little side bars from the authors are always a treat to read.

6. The other books I have been able to finish are by Lora Leigh. For those, well, that was my version of sex for the past 2 years. And maybe the next 2 years as well. The plot is definitely on the thin side, but they are rather fun to read, esp. since the version of flirting going on is not only on the unsubtle side but down right pornographic. As an example, the thought of going for a woodland stroll and coming across an incarnation of Fabio (with a better face) sprawled naked on a moss covered hill side is one I can endorse. All that really matters is that the face be MUCH better than Fabio, who is just NOT that attractive. Great body, but that face? And the hair? Ewwww!

7. Has anyone else been watching the new show "Bones"? If yes, I am just curious to know what some opinions are. So far I have heard how much people are enjoying it, but the negatives range from how the woman playing "Bones" is not all that believable, to how the sexual tension is going to eventually kill the show. On the flip side, the positives have all agreed that the 2 episodes so far have had a great flair for wicked, sarcastic humor and the 2 play off 1 another well so there is hope this will last a while. I certainly hope so because the other options are a bit thin.

8. I am soooo looking forward to the next 2 weeks. I will be sleeping in my own bed! I won't be sharing with my sister, the dog, or anything else but the covers! Yippie! And since the vile headache from hell has finally passed, my world has dramatically improved. Sleep is no longer a fantasy but a reality and I love it.

Grrrrrrr

I am taking today as an excuse to vent against whatever idiocy created migraines. Currently, I am in the early stages of a migraine & PRAYING that these drugs I have been popping for the past 2 days will kick in and kill this pain. Otherwise, my intelligence will drop exponentially & I despise that.

As it is, I am chilled, head pounding, feel band tightening with each heart beat, eyes trying to implode, hair too heavy, hands so cold, ears hurt & hideous ringing, can't focus vision, visually tracking anything is hard, and I HATE THIS!

Beyond this rather annoying level of pain, I am officially in bankruptcy. I am surprisingly relieved. No more creditors calling me. My cell phone bill will drop dramatically. All I have to do now is pay off my cell phone bill entirely, and then I will be entirely caught up. Once I am stable, I will probably sign up for Netflix and generally let anything resembling a life devolve even further.

Before I get Netflix though I intend to go to the Jacksonville Zoo one day soon. Then next spring I am taking off for the Atlanta Renaissance Festival. Maybe even the Nashville Zoo & Aquarium if gas prices decide to go down to tolerably painful.

I read this story on three-scores blog. It was enough to make me wonder why the hell is the media not covering more positive stories? I read more positive stories in the latest 2 People mags than I have on the news sites. What is it about our society that blood and gore are what sells? I know it is sad, but part of the reason I watch the ridiculous cartoons like the hideous Barbie movies, Hello, Cutie! DVD's, Strawberry Shortcake abominations, and other cutesy things is because they are ridiculously sweet and happy and nothing bad really happens. Even the bad stuff isn't bad. After watching the news detail the latest drive by shutting with the obligatory blood soaked sheet, side walk, cars, grass & buildings, something revoltingly sweet and happy makes me feel better.

To reassure everyone, I also watch movies like the Transporter, the Professional, the original Highlander, Lord of the Rings trilogy, Sixth Sense, X-Men, Army of the Dead, and so on. I do like my blood & guts & mindless violence. I just do not want my violence to be real. Not fake to the point you can see the plastic tubes, but fake.

Ugh. Hate the occasional pretty color flashes. They hurt and they blind me temporarily. Bad Bad Bad Definitely do not like how IQ drops. Really hate pain. Lights are off so that's good. Dread drive to Mom's. Once there can crash, but must get there 1st. Ugh.

It's Monday again

Another 9/11 remembrance is complete. I am amazed at how many forget what happened and how the human psyche can ignore what it wants. Oh well.

On the way home yesterday I was listening to a psychologist working with the poor in the Houston super dome and was rather disgusted by the entire interview. I can agree with a lot of the facts that were discussed, but the way the 2 spoke of the poor misunderstood souls who needed more help and how the drugs these poor frighteningly incompetent souls needed were difficult to get made me want to barf all over my car. To be clear, the tenor of the conversation was that only the poor were mental incompetent and that is why they were poor. As mental incompetents, they could not handle the level of stress that a "normal" person dealt with on a day to day basis.

What a load of crock. Let's see, how many loons are there in history who were VERY wealthy souls? I think most of the British royal line counts here. And stress is nothing more than how an individual does or does not cope. Just because I find it stressful to have to smile all day at a group of people I do not want to associate with does not mean that Joe Schmoe won't get off on it & find my idea of a relaxing weekend hiding behind a stack of books not only beyond comprehension but enough to have him climbing the walls & highly stressed out. Besides, NOT having money is always stressful. Ask anyone who is not in the same income bracket as the Hilton's & Trumps. They also have stress but worrying about paying the power bill is not on their list of stresses.

This morning when I got up late, I had a totally out of the ball park thought about gay marriage. I was wondering how gay marriage would affect green cards. It is a fact that many people marry Americans to get their green cards and now with gay marriage considered a legal fact in a growing number of states, how soon until gay men & women start following a well established trend?

I decided that there was little to nothing I could do about that particular topic at 6 am, so I got pulled together and went for a walk. Today's was a wonderful contrast to many in the past. The dogs stayed close. I had an escort of tumbling leaves thanks to a steady wind. I saw a rather large turtle working his way down the road. The dogs chased some deer across the road & that was a cool treat. The terriers did not come out barking. It was just a nice walk with a lot of nice, quiet moments.

Then I came to work and it is amazing how quickly the day goes downhill from there. But I have found 3 more jobs I am going to apply for in NC & life continues its merry little way. Now all I have to do is kill time until about 4 when I get to have my evaluation done & then it will be 8 pm before I know it & I can go home. After I pay the power bill that is.

Working On A Sunday

I know that it is hypocritical, but I really hate working on Sundays & wish that I did not have to. And I think that just about every other place across the world should be closed on Sunday as well. With the noticeable exceptions of Wal-Mart, gas stations, and other useful locations, of course.

Today I have been playing a stupid mind game to keep myself entertained. I can recommend it for meetings when you are really not necessary but you need to look like you are paying attention & not staring into space mindlessly.

There are numerous variations, but I started years ago by trying to decide what sort of animal a friend most reminded me of. Like exmi reminds me of a pit bull, specifically his dog Deeters but that was not my 1st pick. An english pit bull would have been my 1st pick. My old roomie is forever associated with a blood hound in my mind. A friend at the time was a barn owl because despite her ability to focus and really astounding skills, she is a complete and utter slob and no social skills. Her now ex-husband was a brown bear for a variety of reasons the most obvious being that when you put a picture of him beside a picture of a brown bear there were LOTS of physical similarities. His sister was a chinchilla despite her Scottish heritage and sheep wool-like hair. Another friend we decided was a Florida panther because not only was he on the small side but he would probably gut a person & never notice it - & we were being literal about that. I am still considered a house cat with many voices chiming in that I am a calico house cat. Still not sure what to make of that.

This has evolved to the point where I try and determine not only what animal a person is, but what sort of medieval or alternate life style or futuristic garb/job I can picture a person in. This can cause some rather bizarre images so be warned. As an example, one of my staff ladies is a truly warm, loving woman. However, the medieval career I can see her in is as the good-hearted nosy tavern keeper who knows everyone's business and takes care of everyone whether they want her to or not. To entertain myself, I try picturing her in something from, say a place with a lot of latex. It took a week before I could stop snickering. I can picture her in biker momma leathers & flannel, but not latex.

I have spent many a meeting contemplating the speaker in various garb and it has definitely helped pass the time. It is hard not to have a serious expression after all when you are trying to make a Dilbert-clone look like a dominatrix wanna-be mentally. It makes for a lot of fun & I can recommend it. Just watch for unexpected bouts of laughter.

Ho Hum

It is Saturday & here I am again. At work. Attempting to keep my mouth shut so I do not offend the unwashed masses. Succeeding only because I am hiding in my office. Thank God for personal offices, otherwise people like me would have to fight the temptation to tell people just how obnoxious they really are and their cutesy little habits are nothing more than mental finger nails on a chalk board moments.

I really do not have it that bad & I know it. I know everyone gets tired of this mantra & I appreciate the patience. I just keep restating it to remind myself that religious fundamentalism and blind ignorance mixed with willful stupidity is not that bad. Just because I find the levels offensive here at work is no reason what so ever to tell Mrs. H. that I find her face with the Tammy Faye make up disgusting and the way she allows her child to rum rampant unsafe and an invitation for child endangerment. And asking why some of the sweetest ladies how they could let themselves get so fat that their ass hangs to their knees is not a good way to keep my job. I know that telling the ladies that the way they smell of moth balls is singularly unattractive and that I would appreciate it if they would wash their clothes and use cedar instead is not a good way to promote team building and community good will. I know all of this. On days like today, I REALLY want to say all the above and more.

It does not help that I have the grand experience of working tomorrow, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday (though I might "call in sick"), Thursday & Friday, followed by yet another weekend at my mothers. I hate knowing that my job is NOT that demanding and that it is a cake walk. I miss actually doing something. Most of what I do over a months time, I can accomplish in less than a day & I hate having to drag it out over a month.

I think I woke up cranky today. Oh well. I have griped enough on that topic for the day.

So, I watched a couple of good flicks last night with exmi. The 1st was a Kevin Costner flick - The Upside of Anger. That was a nice chick flick that I would recommend. It was not fast paced or anything but so much of it was exactly right given the characters. I liked how Costner was able to actually act. Normally, he can't so to see him manage is always a treat.

The other flick I watched last night was Sahara. If you have ever read any of Clive Cussler's books, DO NOT WATCH THIS MOVIE! For those, like me, who have not, then it is a fun flick and Matthew (__?__) is always worth watching. I have a funny feeling that when I do finally sit down to read all of Cussler's books some 3-day weekend, I am going to be highly offended at the movie. From the commentaries exmi dropped, I have a feeling that the casting was all wrong, there were plot flaws large enough to drive a fleet of semi's through, and the list goes on. Despite all that, we both laughed at the appropriate points and he only objected to 3 major plot flaws.

1 of the plot flaws was rather huge though. An old Civil War cannon ball will not simply fly through the window screen of a helicopter and roll about on the floor. I know that & the closest to a helicopter I have ever gotten is an old land lord who really liked my Mom was an army helicopter pilot, OK? At a guess, an old Civil War cannon ball would shatter a helicopter into many chunks as it went through and would probably bring the 'copter down as the cannon ball created numerous holes. I could be wrong, but that is my personal guess.

Side note - can anyone out there please explain the thought process to this chain of events here at work? 1 of my staff just came in to my hidey hole (a.k.a. my office) to ask me if it was OK if she put the bell out so that she could go gossip. Here are the reasons I am boggled.
1) that bell has been out on the counter with a sign saying that if no one is at the desk, ring the bell & someone will walk up to help for 2 YEARS!
2)Next, I have never once said that my staff must stay at the front desk, especially if we are quiet and there was something more entertaining/necessary going on in some other part of the building - mostly because of the bell! Days like today when we are exceptionally dead, my presence here is a sop to the higher ups who demand that someone with passwords & authority must be on duty.
3) why the hell does she think I care that she wants to 'go gossip about her ex-husband"? I barely ever talk to the woman at all because I can't stand the smell of moth balls or how she acts like a ditz. So long as she stays away, I have officially given up and beyond take advantage of the fact that she can man the front desk without me, I have nothing to do with her because I am constantly ignored. So screw it!

And yes, she is a hot point for me.

Anyway, that was the total extent of my viewing pleasure over the past few days. As cool as the sound track to my nephew's Hot Wheels movies are, that recollection is as far as I care to torture my memory. I have not really read anything. Mostly because I have not been home that long and I have been attempting to settle some arguments here at work before they get out of hand. That & I can't forget my 4 time a year meeting that I had last Wednesday. I wish I could, but amazingly some things were revealed and life was marginally simplified. I just had to spend the past few days explaining them to my more rigid thinkers here at work.

I sound like such as arrogant snot when I write this way. I honestly do not know how much of my opinion of the so-called locals is based on truth and on the fact that I am used to better. I have a long laundry list of reasons for why I have grave doubts about the talents, intelligence, education, and professionalism of many I deal with here, but how much is because I am just an arrogant snob with a mile wide streak of educational elitism thrown in for good measure?

There is a part of me that would like to be able to read other people's minds just so I could tell how my actions are viewed, but I am so grateful that I can't. I would hate to have my nose rubbed in the fact that there are people who see me as fat, lazy, inconsiderate, depressing, whatever. I mean, I can list of a long list of terms that while the degree could be argued, they do describe me. Arrogant is definitely among that list. But a lazy slob? That would probably devastate me.

Tangent off this, but what amazes me is how it is your family who influences your self-image the most. I know quite well where my low self image comes from, just as I know that the image my parents have of me is remarkably skewed. It is the main reason I am able to ignore a lot of their comments to help me improve myself. And that skewed version a parent develops of their child is 1 of the reasons I am against having children of my own. I know this is not a universal. I know that there are untold numbers of parents & their children who are able to grow together and see the changes in maturity and emotional depths in each other. However, in my family & in a lot of those families surrounding me, I see too many who no longer "see" one another.

EX: I know of 1 woman who is now in her 30's, married, successful government job, yet when she & her husband go to her parents, she sleeps with her parents & not her husband because that is where she has "always slept." I find it creepy, but that is how they interact. There is another woman who still carries her 10 year old son because he is "so sweet she just can't put him down." He is used to it, but rapidly getting tired of the jokes. My family is a hotbed of insanity. Like according to my parents, I am still 4'7", with curly hair thanks to that perm I had when I was in 6th grade, wear glasses all the time, and really need to work on finding clothes that fit because I am constantly outgrowing my shoes & clothes - as in they are too short, not too tight. They also really wish that I would wear more dresses because they get tired of always seeing me in shorts & flip flops.

I am 5'7", wear knee to floor length dresses & skirts 80% of the time, my hair is straight, in fact the last time I even had a perm was in the 6th grade, I wear contacts because I am afraid of the laser surgery & only rarely my glasses (usually at night at home watching movies), and it is a constant source of frustration that my parent's do not "see" me. My mother still makes comments about how I throw such terrible temper tantrums and how she gets so frustrated with dealing with me & my temper. I have a temper, no denying that or else I would not be ranting now, but when my evaluations all commend me for my even temper, tact, control and diplomacy, then I get confused.

Oh well. There are no real solutions & I know it. But going back to my refusal to ever have children, a lot of my refusal is based on how I was raised and how messed up I am. I have no desire to put a child through what I went through, even if it is diluted. I also would not want to bring children in to today's world because I at least find it to be too much, all the time.

Complete change in topic, but anyone reading this, what can you tell me about Fayetteville, NC? I am going to focus my job search for the next month there and any hints and suggestions are welcome.

Thursday

I am pleased to announce the obvious. It is Thursday. FINALLY! For me, it means a long day at work (9 am - 8 pm + hr long drive 1 way) but once I get home, I have nothing to do until Saturday. I have very simple plans for my day off. Retail Therapy! Once I have accomplished the basic stuff, I am meeting exmi and going to see the intellectually stimulating film, Transporter 2. I am almost positive that I will walk out of the theater giggling because of the lack of anything resembling a plot or even acting, but what the hell. If I am lucky, there will be some cool fight scenes & maybe a few shots of Jason Statham's chest. After that, I will hit Wal-Mart & go home. Though I think some chinese might be interjected in there.

Other than that, I am soooo glad to be sleeping in my own bed again. I knew was tired. Sharing a bed with my sister is fine & dandy, but sleep is impossible for either of us. The term "cranky" comes to mind if we have to cope with each other too long. She has no problem with her dog sharing the room, but I have serious problems with it. It constantly amazes me how incredibly noisy a dog can be at night. The scratching. The jiggling tags. The wuffling. The sneezing. The nails clicking on the floor as the dog patrols the house several times at night. The cold nose and tongue swipes when a foot or hand dangles.

I have cats, OK? They might sneeze and they can definitely sound like a herd of cattle when they start running in their mini-rampages, but mine are all well trained. Ooops, they have me well trained. When the lights are out, we have our assigned places. I sleep with my back against the head board, comfortably sprawled amongst the various pillows. The cats have the foot of the bed. We share the covers and sometimes they sleep snuggled at my neck. They talk - a lot - but their idea of an active day is jumping onto the bed and maybe running to their litter box to check and see who is in there.

To add to the joy of sleeping in my own bed is the sheer mass of comfortable pillows. In my family (& circle of friends) I am the only person who has mounds of pillows throughout the house. I do not see why this is so unusual. Pillows are comfortable. They can be used in a myriad of ways. They keep my back from killing me like it is now after a week at my mothers.

Let me stress this again. Pillows are good. Pillows are your friend. You can never have enough pillows. Anything soft and comfy is a good thing to add to your home decor. And if you can, add it to your car. I am now starting to look for pillows for my small car. I like those new squishy pillows that are out now in various small sizes & bright colors. I think they will look good in my white Eagle Talon. Maybe bright pink & neon green?

Among other topics discussed at my mothers, the length of my hair was brought up several times. I have had my hair short numerous times over the years, and I just do not like it. Partially because it is higher maintenance and partially because the number of women asking me for dates increases in direct relation to the shortness of my hair. I have issues with that, so sue me. I do agree that as long as it currently is, the lack of any style what-so-ever is unflattering. Being the vain soul that I am, I figured a perm would be an option. There are problems with this idea though, and any solutions are appreciated.

The 1st problems is that I do not know anyone around here who perms hair. And the people I have seen and talked with can only recommend good people who cut hair, but no one knows of someone who is good at perms. The 2nd problem is that my hair "takes" incredibly well. As in, if I do not take care, I end up with a 'fro. I have some problems with that look in general, forget for myself. So it all sums up as I need a good hairdresser. I have tried all the tried & true methods of finding someone, but I am at a loss as to what to do now.

So exmi - ask your mom for me cause she is probably within ear shot if you are reading this.

Last night I watched the Bruce Willis flick Hostage. I should have gone to bed. It was interesting and all, but I was able to finish paying bills, sort laundry, eat dinner, unload & load the dish washer, get today's lunch ready, iron, go through a week's worth of mail, take care of some filing, and still manage to keep track of what was happening in the movie. And all things considered, it probably is for the best that I stayed up & took care of all these odds & ends because I slept through my alarm today & had 20 minutes to get pulled together & out the door. And since I only have 1 massive pulled back muscle instead of several knotted muscles, I think I needed that sleep.

I like Thursday afternoons. They are quiet here at work. If I am feeling anti-social I can indulge myself & hide in my office all day. Or, if I feel like wandering the building I can check the never ending supply of lists and feel like I am accomplishing something. Today, since standing back up after bending over to check a shelf leaves me feeling like I am about to pass out from pain, I think I will wrap up this post & go check emails. I sooo want a nap!

I'm Back!

I hope everyone had an excellent holiday. Compared to the refugees of Louisiana, I'd say that most reading this had a wonderful holiday. It will not stop any of us from bitching, but that is an inalienable right of being human.

I watched a lot of the coverage of the mop up & I find myself annoyed at the people screaming about how the federal government took too long to come in. I find that to be a load of crap. If you look at exmi's blog, there is a posting there that sums a lot of my opinion. To add to what he said, my biggest snarl's are at how so many say the gov't did not step in quickly enough.

What ever happened to common sense? There is a category 5 hurricane approaching your home. It is common knowledge that if you live in any part of Louisiana then your home is BELOW SEA LEVEL! The levee's are set up to withstand only up to a Cat. 3. This is also common knowledge. There has been a mandatory evacuation ordered, yet you stay behind. Now, common sense says that the shit is about to hit the fan so get out.

But obviously many did not. For whatever reason, thousands stayed. Now, when a mandatory evacuation is ordered, I would assume that means the mayor's, governor's and other state officials will order out the Guard & other officials to at least attempt to get as many out as possible who have no way to move themselves - bed ridden, the old, those in the hospitals, or just too poor. The bus lines would be utilized to cart people out. So what happened?

And then after Katrina hit, people expected to see helicopters and cops just swarming all over the place, helping rescue the poor idiots who stayed behind. HELLO! Reality check please! When there is no communication system available because it has been wiped out it is a bit difficult to coordinate anything.

I dare anyone to try and coordinate a family reunion with only the postal system. No phone. No email. No internet. No nothing. You can only use the postal system. Go on. I dare you. HA! And people expected the rescue efforts to fall in to place when there wasn't even a postal system!?!?!? Sheez!

Then the government can't just step in until asked to. Last time I checked, that was part of that political debate about state rights. That has not changed when I was looking now has it? Where is that line drawn? Remember? There is no fault for that but in people's choices. Personally, though it must seriously suck under these circumstances, I want it that way. I do not want the federal government stepping in on their whim. I agree that the fed. gov't has resources the state & local gov't can not afford, and it should be that way. But the fed. gov't should not use those resources except on a case by case basis and by invitation. Especially, as in this case, large chunks of the devastation of Katrina could have been avoided if the state & local gov't had actually done their job.

Then the next stage is that it takes time to get people & resources in place. I remember what Andrew & Hugo were like. Katrina made those look like sneezes in comparison. How can anyone expect big trucks of supplies to make it through long stretches of nonexistent roads in less than a day? It does not work that way. And has it escaped the collective consciousness of this country that Louisiana is a LARGE state? And Mississippi is another LARGE state? They may not compare to Texas, but they are larger than most European countries. And it was all of Louisiana that was damaged, not just New Orleans. There are entire communities that need to be rebuilt from the ground up. There are towns through out the state that are little more than kindling & GPS coordinates. They need rescue crews and aid just as much as New Orleans does.

Oh well. It will turn in to yet another finger pointing farce and life will continue onward. Enough of that rant.

Besides watching the news, I spent a lot of time cleaning and running errands. Piece of advice. Never help family members clean and/or rearrange. Murder develops into a feasible option rather quickly. And the only way to cope is to have screaming fits. NOT a good idea because this is a family member and they know where you live!

It really was not that bad. I am just a lot compulsive and I do not understand how my mother & sister can live with all the piles around them. There were/are piles of books, clean clothes, dirty clothes, dog towels, hand towels, papers, plastic baggies, books, VHS tapes, DVD's, stationary, photo albums, recipes, house decorations, curtains, blankets, and the list goes on. I can't live that way.

You have to understand. I am the type whose books are organized by type & author. My clothes are separated by type, function, & color. I am the person who buys separators for my pens and pencils, and my markers have their own bin in my desk. Vaguely unsettling, but I live alone for a reason. And I have cats to keep me from crossing completely into compulsive disorders.

Despite all these major differences, so long as we do not kill one another, I will be moving in sometime in November. Somehow, I am going to have to figure out how to fit all my stuff into 1 room and pack the rest up for storage. As a family, we need to go through multiple rooms and make everything fit. I am terrified.

To make it all really exciting, my 6 year old nephew is part of this equation and he does not understand why I can not watch his movies with him on demand. I try to indulge him as much as I can, but there is that point. (Parents reading this, any advice would be appreciated on this.) How can you explain to a 6 year old that, no, you really do not want to watch his Hot Wheels movie for the 10th time that day? And that while you appreciate the willingness to compromise, Bob the Builder is not something you want to see - again and again.

That was a large part of my weekend. I watched the 2 Hot Wheels movies - repeatedly. Again & again. Over & over again. Let me stress - there was a lot of repetition here. He adores these movies and knows them by heart down to the sound effects and how the drivers move. I was going insane. When not watching the Hot Wheels movies, I watched Disney's Tailspin. All 8 videos of it. If not that, then it was Bob The Builder. I have 1 more night of it this week & then I can return to being an adult again. My mind is official mush.

I got next to nothing accomplished this weekend & I am a month away from looking seriously for a place to move to. We were supposed to get stuff gathered up for trash & Good Will, rearrange the furniture, & get the 1 room started so I can move in this Thanksgiving. Instead, I ran errands at Lowes & Wal-Mart, took out the trash, watched the Hot Wheels movies again & again & again. Had a visit from my uncle, aunt, cousin & her husband. Then last night - at 5 pm mind you - we FINALLY started working on my future room and gathered bags & boxes of trash, boxes for good will, Mom's twin bed was disassembled & moved down to join the car seats, cribs & other stuff going to Good Will, and then we hauled the sofa bed back to Mom's room, set it up so that she could have room to sleep, & then we cleaned everything up so that we could go to bed ourselves. And we haven't even gotten half way in to the room!

How I am going to fit is beyond me. I know exmi is a patient soul & perfectly willing to let me rent as long as possible, but that is his home & I want asphalt again. I hate not knowing what to do! I hate having an easy job with great benefits that just does not pay enough. I hate dithering! Sooner or later I know everything will fall in to place, but waiting & trying to make it happen is so damn annoying. I am a few more "thank you but no thank you" letters from perspective jobs away from posting my resume & invite commentaries because these head hunters & resume professionals are turning out to be a waste of my limited time, money & patience.

Ah well. Time for me to go to work again. Till tomorrow!

Yipppie!

HeHeHe! It is now 5 p.m. and in an hour, most of which I intend to kill by reading & writing, I am on vacation! I am taking an extra day & while I am going to be working and having to help entertain family, I WILL NOT BE AT WORK!!!!! I am absolutely thrilled!

I have lists forming right now of all that needs to be done before my uncle & at least 1 cousin show up at my mom's, but it is going to be nice not to have to do anything but boss my sister around because I am in charge of getting the place clean. FINALLY! It has driven me bonkers because my sister misses those clumps of dog hair that gather in corners and the organ my great grandfather bought as a wedding anniversary gift has not been dusted or truly polished in months. So I get to indulge my compulsive disorder to the max this weekend.

The fights are going to be truly fantastic. Oh well. If experience holds true, nothing will really be accomplished beyond getting to Wal-Mart, taking my sister to get her hair cut, and lots of puttering around the house.

Everyone reading this, wish exmi luck because he is the one who listens over a bowl of chocolate as I go into great detail why my family is insane. I love them and would never trade them, but we are all ready for some serious therapy. I try to get really good chocolate ice cream so that he can comfortably phase out as I rant.

Changing subjects, but I just helped an individual who is absolutely rancid. I do not care how poor you are. You need water to survive. No one will ever be able to convince me that they can not afford to take a freaking bath/shower. I have worked with people living in buildings made from the cheap press board and painted with tar, yet that family was 1 of the cleanest I have ever come across. Their bathing facilities consisted of a shower curtain held up by strings wrapped around some convenient trees and a hose attached to the only water source -- an outdoor spigot. So how can someone living like that be cleaner and fresher smelling than someone I know has a decent job and a real home that does not use duct tape to hold the walls together? Please, someone, explain this mystery to me.

And yes, cleanliness is a major issue with me. I can't stand to smell people under most circumstances, so when a person comes in to my workplace reeking of B.O. or their preferred perfume or cologne, I get a bit testy. That smell lingers in a closed environment like this.

Life marches on & closing time is a bit closer. I can't wait!

Something else I wish to have explained. Why has droopy pants stayed as a fashion statement? I know how I feel when my clothes start to sag. I can't stand the feel of the crotch of my pants, shorts, whatever being so far down that I can feel it and have to hike them up. So how can these people tolerate the crotch of their jeans between their knees? And doesn't the waist rub when the jeans ride on your hips? Isn't there a level of paranoia that the jeans will go ahead and fall down at any moment? I certainly could not stand it. I can see many who seem to revel in it, but its enough to have me boggled.

Next I have a technical question. But how can I load some videos on to this blog? I have been trying to figure it out and failing miserably. Some pointers would be appreciated.