Going Postal - it's not just for USPS anymore!

Well, well, well.

Seems the THIEVES at UPS have decided to take a page from the USPS handbook on being disgruntled.

Now, I could go on and on and on at LENGTH about what ratzenfratzen scum sucking THIEVES the people at UPS are, but I just found it amusing that the "Postal employee" syndrome has migrated over to UPS as well.

Not really surprised, though. Considering the amount of slave labor they expect out of folks who only get part-time wages and benefits, it was only a matter of time before the THIEVES started to rebel.

I will not be happy until I get Artie-the-computer back.

Be It Resolved:

As this is the last week of 2005, it behooves me as a responsible tradition-keeper (to an extraordinarly low standard) to make a list of the things I will and will not try to do during the coming year.

This list of "resolutions" is an attempt to put my life back at some level of normalcy, and my house in such shape as to not engender fears of an impending visitation from the Dept. of Health & Human Services.

Resolution 1:

As of Midnight on the 31st of December 2005, I will cease and desist from posting or reading on message boards or other media that piss me off. Simply put - I'm gone. I have MUCH better things to do with my time than get angry at some nitwit who wants to live in the dark ages and keep women as chattel.


Resolution 2:

Starting on January 1, 2006 and continuing until such time as all the component parts are completed, I will spend 10 minutes each morning and 10 minutes each evening working on one of the listed "10 minute" items.

Resolution 3:

I will pay off at least 3 of the long-term debts that are plaguing my psyche.

Resolution 4:

In an effort to recover my health and well-being, I will participate in 10 minutes of vigorous exercise daily. The severity of this exercise will increase as my stamina and endurance increases. I can handle 10 minutes, dammit.

Resolution 5:

With reference to the goals of Resolution 4, I will take time to plan meals, purchase foods wisely and provide myself with healthy alternative "finger foods" to keep from noshing on crap. My health is paramount, loss of weight would be nice.

Resolution 6:

I will visit all appropriate physicians as soon as I get the information on our next year's insurance plan.



Ok - that's 1/2 a dozen, and quite enough to start off with. I've begun the "10 minute" list, and it's coming along nicely. Hopefully this can be a year of recovery.

Blessings to all.

Donuts and Potholes

Oh what a beautiful Morn.... *thump* Crap. Hit a pothole.

thud..thud..thud..thud...thud....

CRAP

Flat tire.

Limping slowly to the nearest parkinglot. Empty the trunk. Pull out the little round donut spare. Pull out the jack. I hate this jack. I also hate the tire iron. It's not really a tire iron - its' this tube thingy with a hinge. I don't know where to put the jack.

Scoot into the building. Ask the 2 guys who are ripping wallpaper off the walls if I can borrow a phone - I got a flat. Kind, kind, young man. Lets me use his cell, then tells me HE will change the tire.

Ok, 99.9999999% of the time I'm independent and damn proud of it. Only 2 things really are beyond me. 1) flipping the Hinkley & Schmidt water bottle on the water cooler, and 2) changing a flat tire.

Oh I know the concept of changing a flat. And I USED to flip the water bottle myself all the time - until my back went wonky. But the actual REALITY of changing a flat tire is somewhat beyond me.

Which isn't the worst thing in the world, I suppose. The lug nuts had been put on with one of those air-powered high-torque wrench guns at the tire shop a couple years ago and the kind young man kinda bent up and broke the stupid not-really-a-tire-iron. Fortunately, his compadre had a REAL steel tire iron, so the little donut spare is on my car, the flat is in the trunk, and my hands are all covered in rust from the stupid annoying little jack and the bent-up fake tire iron.

So I get to buy 2 new tires.

Bleh.

Where are all those sugar daddies?? They should have called by now!!

Christmas Greed List

So last night the Prince asks me what I want for Christmas. Bah. I don't know. I know what I want - but from him? Let's face it, he's not exactly the person to tell my deep-dark secrets to.

But.

Now that it's safely past any "last minute shopping" frenzy that anyone could do, I think I'm gonna make me a greed list. Stuff I just WANT. Not need. Not even would use on a regular basis... I don't give a flying fuck about 'the true meaning of the season' as it relates to this post. I know it's very material. This is about greed, dammit!!

Just stuff that would be really cool to get. I don't expect any of it. Stuff like:

Like a laptop computer that I could use for computer graphics or games. Just something so that if I end up in the hospital again, I don't go stir crazy. Would be nice to have at work too, or on vacation.

Computer hardware. An optical mouse. A cordless optical mouse and keyboard would be even cooler. Imagine being able to type from a prone position without cords all over!! I want one or more of those cute little usb stick drives too. They're cute. They saved my butt when Bob the computer became Dead Bob the computer. More RAM for Norm, the new XP box.

More bookshelves. Ok, this is one I'd use all the time. The more, the merrier. My house is like a library anyhow - might as well do up a dewey decimal thing and actually categorize and shelve them properly, rather than just stacking them on any available horizontal surface.

Remodelled bathrooms. Mine suck.
Remodelled kitchen. See bathrooms - above.

A landscaping slave for 2 days in May.

A real - REAL leather jacket.

New washer and dryer.

Emerald and diamond earrings.



That would do for starters. All you multi-millionaire sugar daddies line up and take a number. Your call will be answered in the order in which it was received. Gotta go now - I'm sure this phone will start ringing off the hook any moment now...

Making Someone's Day

I love it when I can make someone's day better. I used to love giving out paychecks back when I worked for the pharmaceutical company. Everyone smiled when I came around on Friday. It felt really good.

Today I got that chance again - in a different, but rather more spectacular way.

Early this morning - 9:00 or so - a man came to our door and said he had found some keys on the sidewalk by our door. Odd. We asked everyone in the plant and office, but nobody recognized them.

Jason went next door to see if they belonged to anyone at any of our neighbors, but nobody had lost any. He even went into the parkinglot and hit the "panic" button on the remote entry/lock device to see if he could locate the car. No luck.

So, we kept the keys on the desk by me - and figured we'd wait & see.

About 1:30 pm, a rather frazzled looking telephone company repairman came to the door and looked sheepish as he explained that he figured it was a long shot, but had anyone found any keys?

I looked him straight in the eye, smiled a little and asked if he could identify them. He looked shocked - then stunned - then hopeful, as he described the large blue plastic keychain bauble from the car dealership. I walked over to my desk, got the keys and handed them right over - he was all but happy-dancing in the lobby.

I told him to have a REALLY great day - and then Virgil came by, saw what was happening and told him to go buy a lottery ticket - it was obviously his lucky day.

*grin*

I still feel happy at having been able to be the one to make this stranger feel so very happy by returning his lost keys.

*smile*

The pain...

The pain, in main, is mainly near my... spine. Ok, so it doesn't rhyme.

Tuesday afternoon at work, my back started to spasm. For no logical reason! I started to think back to all the "uh oh... I'm gonna regret this" moments of the past week....

The only 2 that come to mind are 1) helping Mom get out of the bathtub, and 2) bringing in the turkey from the car.

Now - the turkey himself wasn't enough - but together, I am willing to bet it caused this. Tuesday night was horrible. Couldn't sleep, the pain was excruciating. Wed. morning I called my chiropractor from work and got an appointment RIGHT after work. (I love this guy... :) ) He did the usual, ultrasound, some manipulating... Still hurt a lot.

Thursday was Thanksgiving, so no way to get help - Friday morning I broke down and went to the Urgent Care facility and got some meds. Vicodin (yay), Naproxin (nice) and Flexeril (SP?) - which is good. Three hours wait in the UC rooms, 3 meds. I wonder what I'd have gotten if I had to wait longer?

The great bit is that nobody yelled at me. Nobody gave me crap about my weight, etc. Every Dr. has agreed that I HAD to help mom out of the bathtub - couldn't just leave her in there!! So they are all cutting me slack. Yay.

Well, with the meds, the pain is down to a miniscule throb. Without them, it's still fair stiff and painful. Baking my ass for 20 minutes 3x a day is strange too. I never realized how LONG 20 minutes is, when you're flat on back with nothing to do. I tried to read, but the book is too heavy to support for 20 min.

Anyhow - I've gotten some better sleep, so I trudged in to work. Now I should probably DO work. *chuckles and leaves quietly*

So much for Vacation...

Well, the party who was going to meet me during my layover in Atlanta had a family emergency and didn't show up. Made me angry, hurt, upset... but once I found out the reason, I kinda felt bad for firing off an angry e-mail. I need to check into getting a cell phone again.

Got into Orlando ok, my little blue bag made it with me, which is good. No problem with the rent-a-car, although they gave me a PT Cruiser, which is cute, but which I hated. Didn't use it all that much, though. So it wasn't a big issue.

The hotel was ok. Few things were a PITA, but essentially ok.

I made a huge pot of chili, a Lasagna and a pot of bean soup for them so that Dad doesn't have to struggle with cooking. Although! Talking to him some, it seems he's getting "into" cooking somewhat. That's a good thing. I bought him some crossword puzzle books too. Read on some website where those are associated with decreased incidence of several forms of dimentia... *crossing my fingers*

Mom (possibly) broke her hip while I was there - or the day before, we're not sure. She said she fell, and she was having a TERRIBLE time walking, but although one doctor said there was a "compression impaction" fracture, now the ortho surgeon says there is not. They want to do "therapy". I'm afraid she will keep trying to walk all over and REALLY break the hip big-time if she keeps her hopping and shuffling going on.

The altzheimers is bad. She has "flashes" of lucidity - but they are few, far between and very short. She remembered my name, remembered Dad's name - but forgot completely what her relationships with Dad and I are. Just calls us by our first names.

She keeps wanting to "go home" - back to Latrobe Avenue in Chicago. Unfortunately, the neighborhood she grew up in is now not a place she or anyone else like us would be safe. White Flight took that neighborhood down hard. It's a shame, too, because an awful lot of the houses there are just beautiful. The house she wants to go back to was a lovely 2-story pseudo victorian with a wrap-around porch, stained glass window in the entry hall and curving staircase with carved handrail.

Probably a crack house now. *sigh*

There seems to be a preoccupation for her with "the people" and with getting the right classes for school. Not real sure where all that comes from - perhaps it is just something to say as "filler" when she can't think of what it is she is really wanting to say?

As the day gets darker, she becomes more aggitated. She cannot tolerate the sight of her reflection in the windows - she thinks "the people" are looking in. I suggested to Dad that when the sun starts to set, he start closing the vertical blinds to keep her calm.

I also suggested that he start decafinating her. I know it's made a large difference for me, calming me down quite a lot. Since she drinks a lot of coffee all day long, it might help keep the anxiety down as the sun sets?

Well - I can't wait for Thanksgiving. THAT 4-day weekend I plan to ENJOY myself.
Sitting in the hospital all day one day, and standing on my feet cooking all day another - isn't really "fun".

VACATION!

Well, Thursday and Friday I am taking off work. Going to fly down to Florida and see Mom and Dad.

Stopping for a long layover in Atlanta, hopefully to see a few friends on the way down for an hour or so. Wish it could be longer, but I haven't a lot of time here.

Part of me is glad to be going. I need a break from home and work. But most of me is afraid of what I will find when I get down there.

Paul's constant harping on how bad off Mom is - and Dad's semi-confirmation - has me worried. I've told Aunt Lorraine about the trip, I'll talk to them when I get back. I'm just afraid of what I'll see, what I will find out. The unknown is so difficult for me. I feel like I've got it under control, that I know how I'll deal with it, having Mom not know me... but... do I? will I?

What I really want to do is go down there and do some cooking for Dad's sake, because he never could cook much... and try to spend "quality time" with them. If for some reason he doesn't want me there one of the 2 days I'm REALLY there (not-travelling) I will go to Disney or something. But I'd really rather be there with them.

I'm really afraid of what will happen to Dad if Mom does go. And I do believe that if he puts her in a "home", she will pass quickly, like Paul wants.

*sigh*
Growing Up Sucks.

Temperature

Dayum, but it is COLD the last couple of mornings. It's really made me glad that I have a new coffeepot that makes utterly wonderful coffee, even out of Decaf beans.

This morning I had one tupperware cup of coffee in my left sweater pocket, one in the right, and my "going to work commuter cup" in my hands as I went out the door. And you wonder why I had to switch to decaf? :)

Tonight I am planning to work on getting some of the old files off the damaged computer and onto the new one. Hopefully this will be workable using the USB drive that my boss lent me, rather than my having to go buy a *choke* serial cable.

I hate computers sometimes

This past weekend would be one of them.

My OS on the main box (yeah, yeah win98se - deal with it) went tits-up and died. I suspect foul play. (Virii)

I've spent hours trying to fix it up, to no real avail. It's kind of like a great big electronic black hole right now. I can put stuff in - I can see it in there - but there's no way to get it OUT.

I'll work on it again later when I'm less angry over it.

Anyhow - a dear friend lent me the money to buy a new system. It's lovely. Big hard drive (for the moment - undoubtedly it will be MUCH too small eventually..) and speedy lil' processor. The only downside is that the OS is.. *gag**choke**barf* WinXP

I HATE XP

Tonite maybe I will be able to see about reloading some of my programs.
*smile*

More Plumbing Woes

Ok, so I got the drain apart from underneath, sorta. And there was some gunk in one of the pipes, so I took a coathanger apart and "goosed" it out into the bucket. Then I reconnected the pipes, ran a bit of water, and watched it go down. Yay, it went down.....

Into the bucket.

So I tightened the pipe fittings a bit more, and it still was pouring out... so I looked... and the drain lining - the one shaped sorta like a funnel? has cracks in it. Not just cracks, mind you - but cracks that I can see the daylight thru from underneath the sink. Not good. Wet.

So.
Now I have Susan telling me to use Duct Tape (Susan is from Tennessee, where everything is fixed with Duct Tape). I am thinking of going to Menards tomorrow and seeing what I can find in the plumbing department. And I am hating plumbing even more.

One good thing out of all this - when the sink had water in it, I was hearing some "glugg" kind of noises from the drain - so MAYBE the clog is opening up ?? One can but hope. I hate plumbing.

I really really hate plumbing.

Plumbing Suxxors

My kitchen sink is 1/2 clogged up. It's a 2-bowl sink, and the left side is bad, the right side works fine.

So there's this tangle of PVC pipe under the sink in the cupboard, and the left side is now leaking. I've taken part of it apart, but no clog. Next I'll need to run something through the remainder part (it's all put together in a squiggly Y sort of deal to the outside drain), and try to loosen up whatever is clogging it.

I suppose it is stray noodles and beans that sneak down the sink when I'm draining them, even though I'm careful to NOT let them out. Some of them make a break for freedom and slide down before I can catch them. Probably a bit of grease too, although I throw bacon grease in the trash, not the sink!

I hate plumbing though. I like carpentry, and I am ok with electrical, but plumbing suxxors. I hope I don't have to go buy more PVC pipe. Do I have to get some tape or something? I HATE PLUMBING!!!!!

Woot!!

Bank Statement balances.

Life is good.!!!

Well, Paint me purple and call me Irma!

Interesting things are afoot at the Circle-D, Ted!

Last night was rather amazing. I got an e-mail from someone I figured I'd never speak to again.

I've responded, but... this is weird.

Sometimes you just wish things would stay gone.

Autumn!

The trees are just starting to get a hint of gold. It's cold at night and warm during the day. If only the german yellowjackets hadn't been imported along with the dandelions, life would be perfect right about now.

Well... except that the White Sox beat the Red Sox again in the playoff game last nite. *sigh* I'm a die-hard Cubbies fan, and seeing the Sox do well is irritating, especially since one of my best friends is a Red Sox die-hard, and I'd rather see them win for the sake of my friend!

I've been eating soup lately. Campbells has these nifty new one-person soup thingys where the soup is all in a microwaveable bowl already to eat. I like this! Makes bringing soup to work .. workable.

Talked to Dad last nite, and while things are bad, Mom isn't QUITE the raving lunatic Paul would like her to be. I'm going down there next month. Granted, I can't really stay at the house anymore, but I can stay nearby and be there so Dad can rest or go for a shopping trip without her. And I'll know for my own self how things really are, not tainted by St. Paul the Lutheran Minister's greedy skew.

Slowly I am feeling things improve. Not quickly. Not a lot at a time - although the decaffination is rather dramatic. Maybe I can bust through this depression cycle alone.

Maybe.

You May Be Wondering

Why you need to enter the annoying "type these letters" code before you can comment. I'm sorry to have to do this, but someone decided that this was their forum and they could advertise here. Wrong. Everyone who is a reader is welcome to comment. Nobody is welcome to advertise, especially bots.

Well, I'm hoping that things will go well and I will be able to visit Dad and Mom next month. The airfares aren't horrid then, and it would be very nice to be able to see them, even if Dad won't let me stay there. I need to call him. I know that last year, Paul called me and things were NOT as bad as he chose to portray them. I am not entirely hopeful, but I suspect that this is the case again.

Paul seems to delight in breaking BAD news to me. In fact, he was incredibly silent as if in shock, when I told him that if I go down there, I fully expect Mom to not recognize me. I suspect I will be "that girl" - or "the lady" - not her daughter, and while that hurts, I have reconciled myself to the fact that my Mother will not know me. I still love her.

Bleh - year-end-closing at work today. Never a fun time as an accountant. I am pleased, however. The new CPA at work thought that MY spreadsheets had been created by Joe, the former CPA (meaning my work is "up to standard"!!!) and he thought that Tom was making all the journal entries (I do that!!). So my work is standing up well. I kind of like the new guy. We were supposed to have a 10 min. chat, he stretched it to almost an hour. :)

Perhaps there is light.

Defining Christianity

I am angry. I am, for lack of a better term... Fucking Furious.

Mom's Altzheimers has taken a turn for the worse, she's now having panic attacks and severe anxiety all of the time. She doesn't recognize their house, she doesn't recognize Dad, and she doesn't believe his drivers' license when she sees it. All according to St. Paul The Lutheran Minister. (My brother)

According to Paul, Mom is down to like 100 lb. and just falling apart. Dad tells a somewhat different tale, but Paul has always liked to exaggerate how bad off Mom is.

But you ask yourself, Gentle Listener, I am sure, What does this have to do with defining Christianity?

Well, St. Paul the Lutheran Minister also told me that he thinks Mom should be put away in a home. And.... and this is what has me in tears... that "hopefully there is some underlying cause, some other thing wrong.. so she will just pass quickly".

Yes, folks, there you have it. The Holier Than Thou Lutheran Minister, St. Paul Himself, wishes my mother was dead.

My mother, who sat up with me night after night when I had the mumps, who rubbed my back and tried to make me feel better when I was sobbing after being the brunt of jokes in school. My mother who was there for me, even when Dad wasn't.

Yeah - Paul wants Mom dead. And the evil, distrustful inner part of me just wonders how much of that is financially driven. I don't trust Paul. I most CERTAINLY do not trust Linda, his wife. Good examples of Christians, the both of them - who want my Mother DEAD.

I am sorry, I cannot continue. I have to go throw up.

Decaffeinated

Well, it's been 2 weeks now and I'm trying to stay decaffeinated. The headaches are a bit less, but I've been "cheating" a bit too. Some tea, a few glasses of cola.

I did find a really good diet cola - Decaf Diet Pepsi. Tastes almost exactly like regular Diet Pepsi, which is my drink of choice when I want "pop".

I'm still struggling with the coffee thing. I did find that using a BIT more beans, and setting the coffeemaker to "Strong", I can brew up a pot that tastes something more like coffee. This using Starbucks "Espresso Roast" decaf beans.

I just really do not like 7-up or other lemon-lime drinks all that well, Orange soda is ok once in a while, and root-beer tastes too much like a "dessert" rather than a thirst quencher.

Lemonade is ok, but canned lemonade is crap. I'm spoiled. Every year at the company picnic, our boss hires this lemonade & popcorn wagon to supply drinks & snacks. They make fresh-squozen lemonade right in front of you while you watch. (Juice of 1 lemon, 2 "squirts" of sugary-syrup and fill the glass with water, then shake well...) The stuff is like ambrosia. You'd never want store-bought lemonade again.

Besides, frozen lemonade is just a mixer portion of whisky sours, right?

So I'm feeling pretty darn good about this all, overall. I think cutting back severely before I cut it off entirely is going to work out best. I've had a couple of caffeine-deprivation migraines, but nothing to be over upset over. I'm happy about that.

I also seem to have had a lot less heart-flutters. This is significant. I'm thinking of making a list of "changes" and their effects to bring when I finally manage to get back to a Dr.

I'm feeling a little less stressed and anxious too.

Now if I can just get the rest of my life back in line...

An Open Letter to Those With Whom I Share the Road

Dear Ms. Soccer Mom:

Yes, you have an SUV. Yes, it is big. Yes, it is shiney. No, it does NOT mean you own the whole farking road. Tough darn titties, but I am NOT going to allow you to barge in front of me. Get a life. And a fuel-efficient sedan. And get the fuck off the cell phone.

Dear Mr. Illegal Wetback Immigrant:

A) You don't belong here.
B) Go back where you came from
C) Go to a driving school when you get there.
D) This isn't Tiajuana - we have rules of the road here. Learn them before you apply to come back legally.

Dear Mr. Over-the-Road 18-wheeler Driver:

I don't care how much you pay in taxes, you still don't own the fucking road. Don't bother honking the millisecond the light turns green. I MIGHT could get so rattled that I stall the car from popping the clutch. Oopsie.

And that road construction? Well, you're about 8 feet above me, you probably could see the right lane was closed about a mile further away than I could. Too bad you didn't get to the left sooner. No, I am not going to sit still and wait for you to get in front of me. Deal with it.


I hate people. I need to be a hermit. I really do.

Ramblings

I used a word yesterday that I absolutely never use. I called someone a retard.

I'm sitting in the parkinglot of Taco Bell, rummaging through my purse to find my cash before I hit the drive-thru. There's plenty of room to go around me, and at least 5 people already did. This brain-dead poster child for retroactive abortion in an Audi pulls up behind me and proceeds to honk her horn repeatedly for me to move.

Apparently owning an Audi makes you stupid. I motioned her around me, flipped her off, and asked her if she was a retard, loud enough for her to hear through her fully-automated sun-roof.

This is abnormal behavior. I never call anyone that. My appologies to Rick and Sheryl, wherever you are. Rick used to work with Terry at Deane, and they had a son who was born so badly brain-damaged that I suspect to this day he doesn't walk. Nice kid. Nice parents. Sad, sad situation.

The cats have managed to tick me off to an extent I hadn't dreamed possible. There has been a stack of "I need to deal with this" boxes under the stairs for months. Yesterday as I was about to run out the door to work, they decided to topple it all over. The livingroom is a wreck. The cats are now afraid of me. This is good.

So they pick my name in the bi-monthly random drug screen. *shrug* I wonder if they will call me to tell me I'm testing positive for my heart meds, or whether I'll just get shitcanned for being an anti-hypertension addict.

Last nite was tense. Bad indigestion. I suspect I need to buy new margarine. That stuff really made me uncomfortable. Maybe I should just stop eating.

I've lost my energy for quilting. I wish I could find it back. Maybe over the weekend. The few squares I sewed together at the picnic for the "Ice Cream & Sherbet" quilt (an Irish Chain variation) looked nice together, but I didn't get back to it. Hand-sewing just isn't appealing right now. Besides, I got a TERRIBLE cramp in my wrist from what I did do that day. I'm thinking I need to go at it a bit less aggressively.

Ok, off I go. Behave yourselves.

Paranoia? Or Hypochondria? Or could it be....

All this recent focus on my inner and outter health is beginning to sound like my (fortunately) dead ex-mother-in-law. I appologize to the Gentle Reader for the overabundance of angst - but it's MY blog, and so there... phlllhhhhbbbbhhhtttttttttttt

So I'm at the grocery getting lunch. They have these awesome roast beef on focaccia bread sandwiches, and I can get an orange juice instead of sodapop...

And I am at the checkout and see a "women's magazine" (Definition: 30 pages of "Diet Advice" interspersed with 20 pages of "Sex Life Advice" and 40 pages of the most calorie-fat-and-sugar laced recipies known to humankind) but there is an article in there, allegedly, about Altzheimers, and considering Mom....

So I buy the stupid rag along with my lunch (now also supplimented with ranch-flavored Doritos and a small strawberry-shortcake concoction).

Well, in among the Altzheimer article, various sex advice, diet advice, and fattening recipies there is also an article about a woman who had MVPS = Mitral Valve Prolapse Syndrome. And a lot of her symptoms sounded eerily familiar.

So I went out looking for more info. All of the symptoms sound eerily familiar. The racing heartbeat, the thudding, the fear, the ... well.....

So now I'm at a quandry. Did they check for this when I was in the hospital last? Hmmm Dunno. Can I ask them? Hell no. I still owe them cash. Hmmm.

Ok, the article says that some lifestyle changes can have a positive effect. Eat oatmeal. Consume magnesium. Go for a walk.... Hmmm.... I could try this.....

I still want to go see Dr. Epperly - but if THIS is what is wrong, and not that I'm going insane (Shaddup, Vio), this would be farking wonderful. I mean... this can be treated - insanity, I'm not so sure!

*wanders off for a bowl of oatmeal*

More Deep Thoughts

Woke up this morning with a pain in the gut. Felt like I was just utterly starving. With the latest bit of insight, however, I tried to analyze. I'd had a nice large dinner, there was no real reason for me to have stabbing hunger pangs.

Yet, I was afraid. I cannot find a few things I need, and it's sending waves of panic thru me. I awoke in fear, and that fear was centered in my gut. Hell, I could rub my chest/abdomen and FEEL the pain... Dammit - can it be that my whole life I've THOUGHT that I was hungry, but really was trying to turn off the pains caused by the fear?

This is a lot bigger than I know how to handle.

I slso kind of came to a conclusion that I'm a fucking hell of a lot stronger than I even thought. I've been living with this for at LEAST 44 years. I've done some reading about anxiety and panic attacks and have read some blog/message forums by people who have it (diagnosed). Some of them have had only a few years, and yet are on the verge of total mental collapse. Many of them are agorophobic (sp?), unable to even leave home to get help.

I had the strength and determination to leave Terry. I had the strength and determination to quit smoking. Where can I go to find the determination and strength to beat through this?

Dammit... I am afraid.

Deep Thoughts?

Someone has been hassling me. Giving me the old "You only see the glass 1/2 empty" bullshit. Claiming my life is all about negativity. All my life, from Mom to my boss, everyone jumps on this fucking bandwagon. Why does nobody understand, it's not anger, it's not negativity? It's all about fear.

They say that cornered wild animals have a "fight or flight" response, an innate, instinctual response to fear stimulus. Do you run, or do you fight? What if you can do neither?

So frightened, so long. I remember a few, a very few, times when it wasn't like this. Kindergarten in the basement of the church, before we moved to the scarey big school with all the big kids.... Baking with Grandma....

But mostly what I remember is fear. Fear of not being "good enough". Fear of disappointing the parents. Fear of saying the wrong thing and being laughed at, or being given a ration of shit from an adult. Fear of having a teacher reprimand me, or even worse, bring attention to me.

I remember fear every time I brought home the report card. Fear whenever I did something "naughty" - and often when I had not. Scared of God - of Jesus and his retribution to sinners. Scared of Hell, and the fire/brimstone/wailing/gnashing of teeth of Revelation's end-times. Scared even now when I've renounced Christianity due to it's hypocritical teachings.

I remember being terrified of store clerks. Of having almost panic attacks from having to ask for help finding something. Better to leave without than to be ridiculed and thought stupid for having asked such an obvious question. Even now I am afraid to ask - but force myself to be jocular and over-compensatorily cheerful.

How is this learned? This innate fear? Babies aren't born with it. Babies are supremely confident that all they need do is smile or wail and the world will bring them whatever they desire. Maybe the months in the orphanage started things?

I remember being hideously, painfully shy. So's my dad, but you really have to know him to know it. Can it be that the fear from him produced pheromones that my infant/toddler/child self picked up on and learned this behavior from?

If my boss calls me into his office, I have a panic attack. I just "Know" that I'm about to be chewed out or fired. I'm so afraid I can barely walk, but I grab a pad and pen (to keep my hands from shaking) and go in.

It's getting worse.

Dammit, I need to find someplace - someone - to help. I don't have a clue who/where.

I think I've figured out my heart problems, however. The technicians could not find any pathological reason for my irregular heartbeat, high blood pressure and enlarged heart. I think I know. I think the constant, grinding, insatiable anxiety produces a damn-near constant "fight or flight" response... and it's killing me.

I don't know where to go.

I am afraid.

In a Hurry

Got to run to work
Hope to hell this works.

Iroc's Puzzle is finished (for my part).

I Hate Filing

Oh, I'll do it, but I really hate it. I don't mind the alphabetizing bit, but why the hell do filing cabinet manufacturers make bottom drawers? I'm too old and my knees just don't want to deal with those anymore.

I get down ok, but.... some days I wonder if I'm gonna just end up stuck down there, permanently. "Hey, Mouse - file this while you're down there, mkay?"

On a happier note - By the end of this week, I should have a picture to post up of the top of "Iroc's Puzzle". Yesterday I finished making all the small squares, and spent an hour or so fiddling with them for placement. Tonite I'll put the strips together and finish all but the outter borders, I suppose. Then I want to get the borders on quickly so I can finish Leandra's son's quilt top (2 squares left to do...) and hopefully get the whole lot into the mail by next weekend or earlier.

Earlier would be awesome.

I got a new coffeemaker this weekend. The old one finally breathed it's last. Orthodox funeral, full rites observed. The new one has a brew-strength feature, and has an ANALOG clock, of all things!! How amazing. Bright green light-up clock thingy on the nose of it. But the coffee it makes is pretty good - especially since I got a PuR filter for the faucet, and now have chlorine-free water to make the coffee with. (Our local water is like drinking out of a swimming pool some days!)

I guess I'm easily amused.

A Full Tummy is a Happy Tummy

Went to the pharmacy in Costco last nite and got refills on all the meds. Yay for my Dr. Boo for my insurance!

So of course, it is Costco, and I simply must go and get a big bag of "Tyson's Jumbo Wings o' Fire" - for those unacquainted, these are, without question, the best damn hot chicken wings I've ever had, bar none. The sauce has an unmistakable tang of jalapeno, and they're all the "drumette" part of the wings, none of those slimy, slidy little spaceship-shaped bits. They're big and meaty and just wonderful.

Also got a large "party platter" of fake sushi. (fully cooked - so it's not REAL sushi). Ok, not exactly a "health food" evening, but..mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm good!

Too hot upstairs to play around on the computer, however. It cools down nice at night, but it's been miserable hot and humid during the sunlit hours. Last nite I just fell asleep on the sofa watching Pirates of the Caribbean.

Hopefully tonight I can get into some more WoW gaming and maybe even... *gasp* do some laundry... *grin*

The lady from the Credit Union is ... too perky. I just wanted information,not a propaganda demonstration. I will probably join up if only to have a savings account again since banks are horrible things for those of late. Also might could help if I ever decide to try and get a loan to finance remodelling the upstairs bathroom.

Hmmm
Speaking of banks, I should call and make an appt. to go talk about my IRA....

Damnit - being a grownup has too many things to think about.

Hot Flashes?

Or is it too much caffeine?

I took my meds today, so it shouldn't be that.

It's suddenly SO hot in this air-conditioned office. My face is wet with "glow" (horses sweat, men perspire, women "glow"). I feel light-headed and really want to pass out badly. No chest pains.

I wish our insurance was worth the paper it's written on - I'd like to see a Dr., but I'm afraid to even TRY to work thru that insurance company. Too much red tape.

Shrub-boy is here in Illinois. Damn shame that grenade didn't detonate a few weeks ago. Gas is over $2.50 a gallon, and the republicans here are complaining. I laugh and tell them "you voted it in - you deal with it!"

I'm grumpy. No appetite. I think I'm sick.
bleh.

Happiness is Small Things

Dad called last nite. It was nice to talk to him, but dealing with Mom is getting him down. It tells in his voice.

I'm almost 1/2 done with piecing the Iroc's Puzzle quilt top. I should be further along, but I'm not. *shrug*

Tom made Jason give me ALL of the A/P backlog stuff. FINALLY. Now I have a ton of work to do, but I do at least have the wherewithall to do it. Without the proper tools, one cannot do a quality job.

I weeded in the garden some. The weeds are grand and glorious - the deliberate plants are looking peaked. Drought favors weeds, I guess. At least the tomato plant is flourishing. The daisies look good - I suspect they will come back in a big way next year, which is a happy thought.

Lea is happy, I sent her that stupid NwN temple I built then had to re-build because everyone involved had deleted it from their hard-drives. I told her this is the last version, and I'm deleting it tonite!

I went to Omega for lunch/dinner last nite too. It was lovely. Nice roast beef sandwich and chicken soup. Hot food without having to cook it, served in air-conditioned comfort! I just wish the servers wouldn't rush ya thru your meal so much!

Well, off to iron more lil' pieces of fabric, then work. Maybe I can find some more small happinesses today. I want to look for them. I think I'm tired of anxiety.

Now if I can just figure out how to lose it!

Why do the good weekends end?

This was a nice one. The weather was tolerable, I was "productive" (got quite a bit of quilt work done, cleanded up the kitchen, went to PetCo, weeded in the garden, Did some laundry... )and in general, it was "nice".

Got to play some WoW and went hunting with my most favorite other player (Yes, you, Melichor!). Made steaks out on the BBQ and life was good.

Now this morning, I smell wet burnt wood in the air outside. Not from my bbq - it was nicely "out" before I went to bed. I hope this doesn't mean someone else had a fire!

So back to work. *sigh* But with a nice thought of how lovely the house is looking and how much fun I had. This weekend could have had a few extra days...

Cash Prizes and Hypertension

Ok, I got the surprise of my life the other day at work, got called in for my "review" (Goddess, I hate those) and was given not only a nice healthy raise, but a performance bonus as well.

Oh, nothing so huge as to warrant remodeling my bathroom - but a nice chunk of change, nonetheless.

Which is wonderful. What is weird is that I was told I was too much of a perfectionist (you know, MBA201: Don't just tell them they're good - find faults for them to "correct"). Ok, fine. I'm a perfectionist. The bank statement has to balance TO THE PENNY every month or I'm tearing out my hair.... true.

But I'm an accountant!! Wouldn't you think that accuracy and precision would be ... oh... a DEFINING ATTRIBUTE of an accountant? Like, you don't really want me to give you a financial statement that says "I think we have something in the ballpark of $97,000.00 in the bank, give or take a few 1000....", would you?

So I'm having trouble with the other guy in the accounting dept. He seems to think that deep-sixing any problems is the way to deal with them. Unfortunately, I'm finding there are a LOT of unresolved problems, and he's hiding the paperwork on them.

So I go to the VP and ask if he can suggest a way (other than bluntly telling the kid he is a farking dweeb and fork over the paperwork, asshat) to help out with the situation. And the VP tells me "we just showed you how much we want you to stay - can't you believe us?"

I just got a bonus. They never ever give bonuses. This is unprecedented - and MY first thought is "I have to work harder to prove I deserve this" - and he's telling me to "relax" and "take it easy"??????

No wonder I have high blood pressure.....

*sigh*

OWIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Rotary cutters and fingers are NOT a good combination.

Fortunately, the fingertip in question is not as badly mutilated as I first thought, although my bathroom floor is still a biohazard (some blood dripped, but I'm not going to go slopping around with a mop and rags and stuff until this weekend.

The amazing thing is that I did not bleed all over the rest of the house or onto the fabric I was cutting. *smile*

No, no stitches - it's only about 1/4" long - just DEEP. Still hurts some, and bled like crazy on Sunday night when I did it.

Boys and girls - DO NOT try this at home!!

Dinner in the Heat

It's so hot

I did take myself to dinner at the Dysfunctional Denny's. Uneventful, actually, although the monotone waiter was a new twist.

Couldn't sleep last nite - too hot and... I sliced my left forefingertip open with a rotary cutter yesterday and it would start to throb every time I dozed off.

I'm going to be unpleasant at work today, methinks.

*sigh*

Decaf, Tom? Hell no!!!

Birthdays Suck

Really they do.

I actually checked my farking telephone yesterday to make sure there was a dial tone. Nothing from Mom & Dad ... ok, nothing from Dad.. Mom probably doesn't remember I exist. Nothing from Paul - but then, figure the asshat was in town, no more than 1/2 hour drive from my house and didn't bother to even call and ask if I wanted to meet for coffee or something....

Manda... Well....

*sigh*

I got some "happy b/day's" from guildmates in WoW after I mentioned today was the day (no way they could have known) - but really the only person who remembered and was kindly was, of all people, Tom - my boss. He sent me the most sweet little e-mail.

Damn shame he's married and we have NOTHING in common....

*rolls eyes*

Ah well. It's hot up here again and I need to get down and into the dark cool of the livingroom and do some more sewing, I think. Perhaps today is the day I finish what I said I wanted to.

Perhaps.

Or maybe I'll go out and have a nice dinner and stop for ice cream on the way back.

chocolate.
or.... maybe chocolate AND cookie-dough...

*nods*

Just for ZW

Or...

How I lost my alarm clock.


Actually, I didn't really LOSE my alarm clock. It's still around, just not functioning as previously.

See...
I met this guy online in a video game (UO) we got to be kind of friends but... we never really talked much.

Then one day he changed his signature picture in his forum account to something that.. in my sick and twisted mind... resembled a big blue and silver penis.

It wasn't. But I'm pervy that way - so I sent him a quickie e-mail that just said "Love your new sig - bit phallic tho, huh?"... and from that point forward, we have been talking non-stop for years.

At 3:30 in the morning. On " ICQ " - a instant message program. I have his "alert" sound set to be this utterly obnoxious and annoying diesel truck air-horn sound.. BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

Well, due to a change in job, he's no longer workin' at 3:30 a.m., so he's not sending me BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPP "wake up, lazy" messages anymore. We still talk, just not at 0 dark thirty.

Simple, really, ZW - to lose one's alarm clock. *grin*

Considerable Progress

Ok, as long as Vio says nothing, I'm ok here...

The latest project is called "Iroc's Puzzle" - a bachelor's puzzle quilt in scrappy fabrics on an incredibly black background. For those of you who play(ed) UO - think "true-black-dye-tub" black. For those who understand the reference, think "Heart of Gold" Black.

The fabrics aren't really scraps. They were very carefully selected, each one having something to do with our online friend "Iroc" - Vintage airplanes, Muscle cars, tropical birds, computer chips, police cars, the flames of hell, and... cowboy boots.

I have all but finished the quilt top I am finishing for Lea, but I just can't get myself to do that last lil' bit - my brain is stuck on Iroc's, so I've been working on it. The thing is made of 25 large squares - or... 100 small ones. I've been making small ones, which I will then play around with to see where they look best, and then I'll make the larger ones once the colors are balanced and the small ones are all done.

Somehow, however, I think this one isnt quite going to look the way I had exactly planned it. It will be nice, but just not.... what I thought. That's ok. Sometimes they decide to take on a life of their own. *chuckle*

If it wasn't so darn hot again, I could get this done really fast - but as it is, it looks like I can only work on it in the very very early mornings before the sun comes up. At night it's still too hot, even after sundown, to work in that room.

So I have finished 27 of the "small squares" and will have another 27 done tomorrow or Wednesday. I'd call that considerable progress!!

Today I feel productive.

Waking Up is Hard To Do

Meh.

3 day weekends are all good and all, but... Since I lost my alarm clock, waking up is harder and harder to manage.

Especially when the night before, some idiot has been setting off M-80's right outside the window in the street. I hope he blew one of his nuts off. Even better, I hope he blew them BOTH off. I really do. Folk like that should not have the ability to reproduce.

There'll only be 5 of us plus upper mgmt in the office today. Woo. hoo. I suppose this means that I'll get stuck playing receptionist again since I don't have a penis and I'll be the only woman working there today. I guess having a penis makes you incapable of answering the telephone in a polite and business-like manner.

Boy am I grumpy...
Coffee. I need coffee...

Nicks

Nicknames. "Handles" some dorky post-cb-radio-now-internet-users call them.

My friends have 'em. I have a bunch of 'em. Most of mine come from MMORPG computer games (Massive Multiplayer Online Role Playing Game) where I have to name a character, so I come up with some random grouping of letters that sounds "namey".

Sewmouse isn't like that. Sewmouse is the first online nick I ever had. Had to come up with something quick-like, and... well... Sew... DUH. Mouse, contrary to some beliefs that it is from the handheld computer pointing device, is actually from a Lovin' Spoonful song. (No, I will NOT type the whole lyric for you)

Over the years, I have collected a number of nicks from my fellow online folk. My friends - Vio, Leandra, Zombie Woof, Marqueax, Kalshassan, Uncle HBK, Marikus, Ellehcim, Adster.... Part of me thinks of these people as their nick, but I know each and every one of them by real-world name too - and treasure them dearly.

Somewhere on the other computer (Fred), there is my infamous list of really, really stupid online nicks - when I locate it, I'll post them. One of the members of THIS list actually became a RL boyfriend for a while after we met at a party. (Flappy the Wonder Dog - for those who have any idea).

Sewmouse. Arla. Tresennta. Suriana. Angelica Kestrel. Teika Dewsparkle. I could have chosen any of them for my nick for here... but....

This morning I cut tiny pieces from large chunks of fabric for about an hour at 5:00 a.m.

In my heart, I'm always Sewmouse.
*grin*

Patience

As Lea often says, "I have TONS of patience. I've never used any, so I must have TONS of it stored up somewhere..."

The saying also goes "All good things come to those who wait"

I, however, am much more of Lea's mindset. Oh, I don't whack small children for whining, and I don't barge my way to the front of grocery queues, but I am the very first to admit that patience is NOT my long suit.

However.

Someone is trying very hard to prove to me that waiting quietly and patiently is going to pay off in the long run for me. Since this Prince of a fellow is someone I work with (a V.P. of all things!), it's annoying as slick snot to admit that he has been right about something. *grumbles*

But.

Slowly but surely, things at work are improving. VERY slowly. Like "moving a house from one side of town to the other on a flatbed truck" kind of slowly. "Snails making their way from New York to West Virginia" kind of slowly.

Now - you would think, knowing my joy in making quilts by hand, that my ability to deal with things coming together slowly would mean that I had patience....

Stop laughing Pirate. You too, Vio. No - really, I mean it. STOP LAUGHING.

See? They all know. I can count the number of things I have patience for on the fingers of one hand. But maybe... just maybe.... that VP is right about this....

On the other hand - just because I am paranoid doesn't mean everyone is NOT out to get me.

M-I-A

A friend is missing - just disappeared in the middle of a conversation. This message is to this friend:


I know a lot of bad things were happening. I know you read this when you can. Fear has gripped me because of the things you said, both the day before, and right before you disappeared. You know how active and insane my imagination can be - and it is my hope that it's just my insane imagination working overtime.


If you can - contact me. If you can't - know that I am praying and sending all the best VooDoo your way.


Be well, my friend.

Weather Report

It is hot.

It is FARKING Hot.

Hot like this, I do not need.

I could not sleep. The fans are ineffective. Oh where, oh where is Ed McMahon with my check for ONE MILLION DOLLARS from Publisher's Clearing House so I can get the farking AC fixed?

I hate summer.

Another Stupid Internet Quiz Game

Ok, so like - I never saw the movie, but my friend Kal had it in his blog, and so I went and did it.

Who the hell is this chick anyhow, and is it ok for me to be her?

And who are you?

You're sweet, but not naive -- though you like to be babied like a child at times. You prefer to have a bad boy by your side, but sometimes have problems understanding why he has to run off to take care of business. You want to settle down, yet deep down inside, you are excited by the surprises life throws your way. Take the What Pulp Fiction Character Are You? quiz.

Ah, The Joy of Self-Delusion

Well - I did it. I finished an entire row of my friend's quilt project in one week. This may seem like nothing, but since it was taking me 2 to 3 weeks to finish a row before, I'm feeling rather puffed-up and jaunty!

Yes, it's that self-delusion thing. Doing 1000 tiny steps and not looking at the "big picture" until Sunday afternoon! It worked. One more row to go and I'm off to cutting for another. Yes, Vio - I'm nuts.

There is something so very soul-satisfying for me in working like this. Almost a connection to the past, although I have no past. My paternal grandmother taught me how to quilt - sort of - and there is a LOT of rememberance involved with that, but I also feel this connection to all the other women who have cuddled their families in fabric layered and stitched.

This isn't just a hobby - it's a meditation, and a catharsis. A means of expression for one who's words and drawings cannot express properly. Marqueax's Star was such an expression - of love and caring for one we have watched walk through the fire and finally come out the other side, a better man for it.

BabyStar was an expression of my desire - unfortunately an expression that was denied, but such it is - and it remains. She doesn't know it, but my initials and the year are penned on the back. It too is a legacy, although not of the caliber of Marqueax's Star - or of the new one that will begin after this pastel nightmare is assembled.

Strange to me how the quilts are getting names now. Each so particular to the person I make it for. Manda's Pinwheels, BabyStar, Marqueax's Star... and the other two I have in my head but won't mention here because I'm not giving away my partner's and my trade secrets. *wink*

But one is an expression of hope - and the other an expression of faith. Lea will know which is which.

Back to the laundry - already in progress....

Completion Depression

Finished the BabyStar on Sunday night and packed it up and gave it to the gal at work Monday morning. She was underwhelmed. It's always hard to give one away - they become like "children" in a sense, and I almost "miss" having them to work on.

The quilt came out wonderful (if I do say so myself, and I do)- it looked good, the thin orange outer "binding" border was perfect, and I took miniscule blind-stitches to secure it on the backside by hand, which came out teriffic. Yes, I'm blowing my own horn. I made countless errors on this thing - twisted thread loops, unhidden knots, and a score of poorly matched points - but for a first Compass, I'm content with it, and for a kiddie quilt that will likely get barfed on and all, I'm very OK with it.

No, the problem is the recipient, and I knew that one going in. But some things you just DO because it's the right thing to do, regardless of what is going to happen, and this was one of those things.

Now I just have the rest of the top of a quilt that a friend wanted me to piece for her (and now I know why... each square has about 45 pieces!) I'm chain-piecing the small bits for a whole row at a time and then mass ironing. It seems to go faster that way. I think I understand the psychological effect - if I do it one square at a time, each square is an "I'm finished" kind of feeling and I stop working. By doing all the small bits for a whole row at a time, I never get the "finished" feeling until there are squares made up for a whole row's worth - which is worth a day of "I'm Finished" kick-back-and-relax-and-watch-a-movie kind of sloth.

And you may ask yourself - why would I do something like that? Well, the trade-off in this situation is that she is going to quilt the rest of my daughter's long-long-long awaited quilt. I just can NOT quilt well in a hoop, and the daughter's quilt is 120 x 120 inches and too big for my frame.

Heh - BabyStar was too small for my frame, Manda's Pinwheels is too big. Go figure.

So she does the hand-quilting on my nemesis quilt, and I do the piecing on hers. It works. In the mean while, I will be looking for the strips of fabric I cut ages ago for the binding on Manda's. I'm not taking any pictures of Manda's Pinwheels until it's done, because it's just too big and awkward to work with at the moment. Suffice it to say it is a log-cabin done in shades of teal and cream and put together into pinwheels.

Ok - back to the sewing machine.

BabyStar

Well, I've been working on this for about 3 weeks now. The baby in question is due in July - so I have a short while yet to finish it. I hate quilting in a hoop. This is my first trial to get a picture to show up, so bear with me...




If you look closely at the outter edges, you can see the zoo/jungle print that I'm using for the backing fabric. I think I've pretty much decided that I absolutely, positively HATE using a hoop to quilt - but this thing is too small for me to put onto my frame. I always love working with bright colors, and although my digital camera is somewhat "challenged" when it comes to color reproduction - the exact shades are close to what you see here - the orange is much MORE orange - and the yellow is banana yellow - that sort of differences. Not too bad, really.

This is a work in progress, of course. Hopefully I can finish it "on time" - cross fingers, k?

Found Them

Ah, the joy - the bliss - the headaches are over.. I found the glasses.

Apparently in my zeal to clean and tidy everything in my house last week, I had put down my glasses on the bed, then worked on the baby quilt I'm producing and put that down on top of the glasses. When I went to take the project (baby quilt is in a large embroidery hoop to quilt it - it's too small for my frame), the glasses slipped off the bed and underneath.

So yesterday I was totally focused on finishing the baby quilt AND finding my glasses, and I dropped the thread spool, which decided to try and hide under the bed, and upon retreival, there were my glasses, sitting on the floor as if saying "Well, dummy! We've been here all along, what is YOUR problem?"

duh.

If I can ever figure how to put a picture in this thing, I'll post one when this current baby quilt is done. It's very pretty, and I kind of feel proud of how it turned out. It's a Mariner's Compass that is 20" across, then surrounded by rainbow colored pinwheels. Bright as can be, and the backing fabric is a zoo/jungle print in bright primary colors as well. I'm just very worried about quilting on this hoop thing. Even using my frame, sometimes things get crooked or small "tucks" - this hoop feels too loosey-goosey for my liking.

By tonight I should have more than 2/3 of the hand quilting done, however, and I hope to have the pinwheels WELL started by the end of this weekend.

I think I should go read on how things work now... *grin*

Cynicism 101

Simon and Garfunkle speak for me today:


I've built walls
A fortress deep and mighty
That none may penetrate
I have no need of friendship
Friendship causes pain
It's laughter and it's loving I distain
I am a rock I am an island

Don't talk of love
I've heard the words before
It's sleeping in my memory
I won't disturb the slumber of feelings that have died
If I'd never loved I never would have cried
I am a rock I am an island

I have my books
and my poetry to protect me
I am shielded in my armor
Hiding in my room safe within my womb
I touch no oneand no one touches me
I am a rock I am an island

And a rock feels no pain
And an island never cries

Memorial Day Weekend

Ahh, the first "real" holiday of the year. (Good Friday doesn't count because even though I get the day off of work, it's too damn cold to do anything fun)

Had a bbq - the 2nd of the season. Usually this would be the first, but Caputo's had this really great sale on top sirloin steaks about 3 weeks ago and I could NOT resist. The smell of charcoal lighter fluid on the breeze, watching the 2 ft. high flames lick toward the stupid wood fence, the heady aroma of sizzling beef... mmmmmmmmm

Too bad there wasn't sweet corn worth buying at the market yet. Soon, however... soon. Strawberries and cream make up for it, however. I just love the fresh and GOOD fruits and vegetables from now until fall. The imported stuff is just not as tasty.

So I learned how to start my grill better - seems I'm too impatient. This will come, no doubt, as a complete and utter SHOCK to anyone who knows me at all - considering what a patient and unhurried person I am. *cough*

"Soak them coals with fluid, then throw the match at 'em" said my neighbor, and so... I did... and so.... they burst into 3 ft. tall flames in the stiff breeze - looking for all the world as if they wanted to chow down on my fence. Being patient, I did NOT throw water on them, just watched so very warily - until the fire died down to some small flames flickering near the bottom.

"Ok, leave it sit now for about 20 minutes."

HUH????

"Leave it sit. Go read you book or get more of them little pieces of cloth sewn together - but LEAVE IT SIT." Meekly I submitted and went inside - shuddering at the thought of the fire going out and being left with a lump of dusty-looking charcoal.

To my amazement, when I came back, the coals were dusty looking, but red and shining under the dust. The heat was just right - so on went the steak and off I went to hull strawberries and boil some beans.

Gosh that was yummy.

I may just do that again later this week.
:)

Win Cash Prize!!

If you can figure out WHERE THE BLOODY HELL I lost my glasses at.

Had them Thursday - sometime between getting home from work Thursday nite and getting ready to leave for work Friday morning - they have gone missing.

Thank the goddess, I have the old ones, but they give me headaches, I really need to find the new ones - quickly. I haven't got the $100 to get a replacement pair!

So I've carefully looked in all my "usual" spots to leave my glasses - nada
Tried some "unusual spots" - nada.

So then I cleaned off my desk, tore apart the bed, cleaned up the sewing room, and crawled on the floor in the bedroom to look under furniture... nada as well.

Soooooo
Leave me suggestions, comments, ideas... and your e-mail address. If you're the lucky soul who figures out where the damn things are, I seriously WILL send a modest (very modest... exceptionally so) cash reward.
*grin*

Void where prohibited. Open to US residents only. All rights reserved. Contains no artificial preservatives.

Falling in Love is Bad for the Heart

Dysrhythmia, I think they called it on that insurance form. Or something of a similar yet less y-ridden spelling. Apparently while everyone else's heart is going "Whoosh, thud - whoosh, thud - whoosh, thud" - mine goes something like "Whoosh, thud, bumpa, bumpa, bumpa, Woosh, thud, " I like to think of it as synchopation. I'm definately marching to a different beat.

That combined with the hypertension (again with the Y's) and Deep Veinous Thrombosis, Pulmonary Embolism, and slightly enlarged heart - I'm a walking advertisement for "Drugs R Us".

So I find myself in a delicate situation. I seem to be falling in love. Unfortunately, the object of my affections is rather unsuitable, for a number of reasons, none of which really needs to be aired just here. Suffice it to say that the entire time/space continuum seems to have aligned itself against our finding that elusive gentle-quiet loving relationship together.

So of course, this causes minor chest pains, the occasional bit of odd cramping in my leg and a strange congestion that I'm not sure if it is related or not. Ok, I'm paranoid as a rule, and can always find the dark cloud surrounding ANY silver lining, but it hurts. Worry is my middle name, so that probably just exacerbates the situation.

I'd have thought nothing of it, but another friend of mine has also become involved in an inappropriate relationship. Hearing my friend discussing shortness of breath, hot flashes and almost passing-out with heart racing and some chest pain - just highlighted for me that maybe this whole "falling in love" thing is - in fact - not real good for one's health.

But.. oh my goddess... it feels so.... wonderful - in between the health thingys...

Tales from the Dysfunctional Dennys

Yes, Dennys - the restaurant. Oh sure, the chain itself has had more than it's share of drama and infamy, but the Dennys herein cited is the Dennys by my house. Technically, I suppose I could walk to it if I were so inclined. It's just a little old Dennys, in a small shopping center right off the main road through town.

For a while, it seemed as if they had signed on to a "help hire the handicapped" program. Not that such a program is a bad thing! But it seemed as if this Dennys, instead of just taking all kinds of handicapped individuals - chose to pick and choose only the terminally stupid.

Now, listing all of the stupid things that happened there would take pages, pages and more pages - and I'm not in the mood. But the one that stands out the most is the night our waiter decided to quit during our order.

My (at the time) roommate Jon and I had gone for dinner. We decided to be "bold" and do a full dinner thing - appetizers, salads, actual entrees' and dessert. We also had a tendancy to be a bit filppant and silly when we would go out. Our young waiter came to the table and asked if we were ready - and we asked for JUST a bit more time - and some iced tea while we perused the menu.

The kid brought the drinks, tossed some straws on the table and asked if we were ready. We were. We placed our order, then Jon handed him back the straws. (We don't use straws if we don't have to - not real fond of them.) The kid gave him a funny look and asked why we didn't want the straws, to which I replied "Because we don't suck".

Hey - I thought it was clever.

About 1/2 an hour later, Jon flagged down a busboy and asked where our food was. The guy didn't speak english too well, but he was kind enough to refill our tea and went to find out something. He disappeared too.

Now, Jon and I were the only 2 customers in the back section of the restaurant. Something wasn't right, and Jon went to talk to a manager. Shortly thereafter we got our salads. Ok, this is better. Again we waited. This time when Jon went up, he was loaded for bear and ready to rock. Jon was an incredible person - he could bitch you up one side and down the other without ever raising his voice a single decibel. I never heard what transpired, but Jon came back and told me that our food would be up shortly.

The manager himself came with the food - and outrageous apologies. Seems.. our waiter just up and quit - walked out the back door and never returned. Of course, we got the dinners for free - but we made sure to find that bus-boy. He was embarassed - he didn't want to take the money - but we felt that the tip belonged to him - he was the only one who gave us any service without being hounded into it.

It was.... amazing. This comes to mind because of last Saturday's lunch. Yes, I still do go to the Dysfunctional Dennys. Now that I know it is - it's more of an entertainment to see where the dysfunctional will manifest itself, than any form of annoyance. This time everything was almost eerily "normal" - until checkout when it took 8 staff members to ring up my order. *smile*

Made my day.

Belief

Believing is so many things. Believing is at the core of all relationships - the belief that someone else loves you or hates you - the belief that someone else is loveable or despicable.

How is it that one good friend sees a woman as a goddess, a dream, a fantasy beyond imagining - and I see her as a manipulative, conniving, greedy and grasping succubus who will destroy him?

How is it that another friend tells me that I have talents I never dreamed existed - and yet refuses to accompany me to participate in the very exercises that would bring those talents to light?

How is it that someone can tell me he loves me, can't stand to be apart from me - then seems to have reason after reason after reason why we can't do things together? How exactly am I supposed to foster "belief" in this "love"? Right now, I hurt like hell over this.

I got a ration the other morning from someone for not having "faith" in them. I think I am quickly losing faith in anything and everything. How can there be faith when there is no proof? This was always my problem as an xtian - and it continues now. Why is it that I'm expected to bare those secret places, secret thoughts, private sanctuaries to others - only to deal with ridicule and harassment, on the rare, off-chance that there MIGHT be something to come of it?

Hot flashes, chest pains and a headache - and depression. Happy Friday.

Ahhhhh - zzzzzzzz

The joy of a new mattress!

For years I've joked about the "dent" in the old one, and my friends thought it was just a joke. Guess what guys? No joke. Tuesday the delivery guys came by and hauled away that sorry excuse for a sleeping surface and left in it's place a lovely, new, exceptionally TALL mattress.

This thing is at least 6 to 8 inches thicker than the old one. Feels like I'd need a ladder to get into bed now. But once there... oh my my my!

So comfortable. The first night was rough - sleeping in a new place always is for me - but last night I was like a rock. Were it not for that ingrained inner alarm clock, I'd still be there snoozing, and it's after 10:00 a.m. now.

If my boss is right, and sleep deprivation is part of why I feel like crap most days - it will be interesting to find out what it feels like to NOT feel like crap.

I may like that.

Starting Points

Where does one begin in babbling out one's inner thoughts to the universe? So many things run through my mind, but they're all so jumbled up sometimes.

Everyone talks to me. It's hard for me to talk. So many have trusted me with their deep-dark selves, and I can't betray those trusts - so it feels as if I walk around with the world sometimes. But I wouldn't ever want to NOT be available for my friends.

Yesterday a co-worker made a smartass remark about how I let one of my internet buddies wake me up with an IM program at 3:00 a.m. Essentially she said that if anyone woke her up at 3:00 a.m., she'd tell them to go to hell. Nice little christian that she is....

See - the friend in question is having one of the hardest times of his life - going through pre-divorce trauma and some serious depression issues associated with it. I've been there. I've done that. I know how you can't guarantee that the worst of the depression isn't going to hit except during "normal socializing hours". How can I NOT be there for him - when so many were "there" for me when it was my turn?

It's things like that - that cause me to have renounced "xtianity". I can't reconcile what I see from it's followers, and what I have read in the bible - not with each other, and not with what I know as fact.

No doubt my brother will expect me to go to hell.
At least it will be warm.