Endings and Beginnings....

So...

My trainer Sharon and her family are moving out of the country next month.

What?! Huh?! What?!

I was stunned by this news. With her help I have lost 30 pounds in the past two years - nowhere near as quickly as I would have liked but it's been a total life change for me and everyday I come closer to realizing that THIS (eating healthy and working out 4-5 times a week) IS going to be my life - for the rest of my life.

She's been a wonderful friend, giving me advice and support and that ever-essential accountability.

I will miss her but I'm also very happy for this amazing opportunity she and her family have to live in another country and truly experience a different life.

But I also have a decision to make. I can switch to a new trainer - she suggested another woman who can work with my schedule (5am is AWESOME!) but I'm not obligated to continue with a trainer.

Part of me wants to try it solo for a while (the cheap part me - personal training is EXPENSIVE!) and if it doesn't work, hire a new trainer after a couple months.

Part of me KNOWS that I truly NEED the accountablility that a trainer gives me.

Sigh.

So I have a decision to make.

I also need to (quickly) think of a good "Thank You!" slash "Congratulations" slash "Good Luck" gift for Sharon...

Suggestions???

Flashcab SUCKS!

So, Mike, the supervisor on duty at Flashcab on Saturday is a DICK.

I called Flashcab at 2pm (I like the idea of using a smaller, local cab company rather than the bigger corporate cab agencies - more fool me!) and ordered a cab for 3:15pm because I needed to be at the wedding early since I was an usher and didn't want to inconvenience my designated driver by making her show up hella early too.

3:15 came. And went. I called Flashcab at 3:20 to check on my cab and the dispatcher tells me that they have me down for 3:45 TOMORROW.

I lost my nut.

It wouldn't have been such a big deal if this had been the first time this happened. But Flashcab screwed me over back in August too. But I was willing to give them a second chance.

The guy who answered the phone was wholly unhelpful. He just kept repeating that "we have you down for 3:45 tomorrow" - which did nothing to help my current situation.

Then he transfers me to "Mike" the supervisor. Mike is a dick. Not only did he NOT apologize for the mistake but he said, "well, it's not like we're forty-five minutes late or something" and then, when I asked him if he was going to apologize said, "I already did."

And, when I told him that he would be losing my business forever - and I'd be telling all my friends - and he said, with utter unconcern: "OK"

What a dick.

So. Don't use Flashcab. They suck.

Happily Ever After...

Today my very very dear friend D is getting married.

D is one of those truly GOOD guys. The guy who will come pick you up (in his pajamas) at 2am from the Walgreens parking lot when you've got a flat tire. The guy who will replace the keyboard on your laptop in ten minutes and refuse to accept any money even though he's been unemployed for three months. The guy who will clean out the grease pan on the communal grill at your condo building after it catches fire for the third time. The guy who will lie and tell you that you have "dainty little 'girl' snores" after you pass out on his couch on New Years Eve.

He's the guy who wears his heart on his sleeve and is always happy to do whatever others want to do. The one who loves to cook but can't load the dishwasher to save his life. The one who tells his girlfriend that two cats are the absolute limit but falls unequivocally in love with the kitten she brings home - near starved and dehydrated - from the CTA platform.

I'm so very very happy that he has found his match - a sweet, pretty, smart, slightly odd (OK - *really* odd - but in an endearing way!) girl who will balance his neuroses, keep him from getting too serious, try his patience, challenge his mind, race his heart, and settle his soul.

I have been to many weddings. But this is one that I am 100% happy about.

You have a wonderful wonderful life ahead of you, and I am honored and touched to be a part of it!

All my best wishes as you take this next step toward your own Happily Ever After!!!

xoxo

I did it!!!!

I did it!!!!

I wrote a 50K word novel in 30 days!!!!!

It ain't pretty. It's actually pretty darned ugly! But it was fun and it's actually really rewarding to FINISH something.

:D

And at the same time I'm starting something... I've been seeing a new boy. He's cute and sweet and quirky and a great communicator - he agrees whole-heartedly with my "better out than in" philosophy. So I am cautiously optimistic.

:D

A New Day

OK, so hopefully today can be a new day.

The sun is shining, my apartment doesn't look like too big of a shithole, and I just don't have the energy to be angry any more. (For now, anyway ;p )

For the record, I really wish things hadn't escalated as they did. I was angry and I vented and a few more people chimed in with their own gripes. Some of it got kind of mean. I regret that.

For the most part, I like to keep this blog positive - there are so many wonderful people and wonderful things in the world and I really don't like to dwell on the negative stuff.

But I got angry and I vented.

Roo and I have exchanged emails and I think we understand one another.

If anything, perhaps it's a good reminder that our actions have consequences. Things we say and do affect other people.

Anyway, it looks like a beautiful weekend ahead. Enjoy!

I Got Your Back

I am extremely lucky.

I have many wonderful friends and a large, loving family.

Some of them I see frequently, others I see rarely if ever.

The one thing I know? They've got my back. Each and every one of them.

And I've got their back. All of them. I've even gone to bat for people who later proved unworthy of my efforts. Repeatedly.

I'm a big believer in second chances. Hell, I've even been known to give third, fourth, and even twentieth chances.

But some people have no concept what friendship really means. They don't have your back. They can not be trusted to stand up for you when others are doing horrible things. They'll stand up for themselves (as they SHOULD!) but you can't count on them to stand up for YOU or for the people who stand up for them.

They take without giving. Without REALLY giving, anyway. Not when giving becomes difficult.

Luckily, I know enough of the warm, strong, loving, supportive, loyal type that it doesn't bother me too much when one of the others proves to be unworthy of my friendship. There are too many positive people in my life to waste time on those who dwell in negativity and meanness of spirit.

Thankfully, the good people in my life far outnumber the bad. So I'm not too worried about those people who aren't worthy of my time.

For all those I love, I hope you know, without doubt that I got your back.

Cincinnati Sushi

So... my mom makes this totally tacky little white trash appetizer that I just love.

Basically, it's a dill pickle slathered in cream cheese, wrapped in a slice of ham and then sliced into little rolls.

She also makes a sweet pickle version that I'm not a fan of with salami instead of ham.

She calls them (wait for it!) "Pickle Rolls"

She's been making them forever and I've never met anyone unrelated to me who's even ever heard of such a snack. But they're standard fare at our house.

So you'll maybe understand my shock - SHOCK - to discover them on the menu at the bar I went to on Friday night.

And they had a name: "Cincinnati Sushi"

Awesome.

November

Ah November is nearly here.

Time for pumpkin pie and turkey and pretty reds golds and oranges.

Time for crisp fall days and cute fall jackets and skirts with tights and boots.

Time to think about gift shopping and holiday travels.

Time for sniffles and warm socks and kitties crawling under the blankets.

Time for nanowrimo!!!!!!

Ah yes, it's that time again! National Novel Writing Month is nearly here!!!!

50,000 words in 30 days.

Badly drawn characters in absurd situations, plot holes, absurd situations, unbearably loooong descriptions of EVERYTHING just to get to that all-mighty word count.

I'm a bit ahead of the game this year, though. I actually have a plot!

It's not a *good* plot, mind you, and I have no clue how it will end, but hey: PLOT!

I am now taking suggestions for silly dares and cameos.

;p

Mother @$%^&*!!!!!

Sigh.

My car was broken into last night.

Again.

Seriously. Again.

This time they threw everything from the glove box and the console onto the seat but didn't take anything except the dashboard coin drawer - with all of $3 in quarters in it.

Sigh.

Since the new parking meters take plastic now, I don't need to carry change in my car. But for pity's sake!!!!!

And there's really not much I can do without actually ponying up for a car alarm.

From a website about Hondas:

A user wrote:It's very hard to protect a 4 gen accord. Most of the time a thief will use a flat head screwdriver to pry the top of the window from the rubber molding enough to get a grip on the window, then all that needs to be done is pull the window out with one hand and unlock the lock with your other hand. You would be surprised how far one of those windows will bend before shatering [sic]..."

Sigh.

So I'm actually considering dropping over $200 to protect a 15yo POS with less than $20 worth of crap in it.

Or I could just let this keep going and hope they don't eventually break my effing window...

Hey! But at least now I know how to get into my car if I accidentally lock my keys inside!

Ships in the Night

More like "Trains in the Day"

I love it when I get a window seat on the morning train and by some mystical convergence in the universe, a south-bound brown line and a south-bound red line train leave Fullerton at the same moment.

The two trains chase each other on their not-quite-parallel tracks. One pulling ahead and then the other for all of two minutes.

And then, just before the brown line stops at Armitage and the red line shoots down into the subway tunnel, the two trains come together so closely that their respective passengers could almost kiss.

I love watching the people in the other train. Some of them asleep. Some of them reading books or newspapers or texting. Some of them staring into space. And some of them, like me, scanning the faces of those on the other train.

And I love it when I meet the eye of one of these people and we both smile, sharing a moment.

Little moments like that make me smile.

:D

Back in the Pool

So B and I broke up tonight.

It wasn't any great shock for me. It had been building for a while. His schedule was becoming an issue for me, as was the fact that I felt he wasn't making enough effort to make time for me. I wasn't feeling like a priority in his life.

The situation was starting to make me feel bad about me and I can't do that. I won't do that. I've played the junior partner in relationships before and I'm not interested in going there again.

It finally came to a head this weekend.

I went to see him - knowing that things had to change... or end.

It was so hard. And remarkably easy.

He knew why I was there. We'd both seen it coming. So, before I could drag out the little speech I'd prepared ("I really really like you - so much! - but this isn't working for me") he told me that he just wasn't feeling what he wanted to feel.

It wasn't what I wanted to hear - who wants to hear that the guy she likes doesn't like her back? but he was honest and kind about it. And it was obviously tearing him up. He was visibly upset at the thought of hurting me.

But you just can't force a feeling that just isn't there.

In the end, we hugged, we kissed, we wished each other good luck.

And then I left.

This isn't what I wanted. It isn't what he wanted. But it's what had to happen.

I'm sad. I'm very very sad.

But I'm not heartbroken. I've had my heart broken before and I know what's that feels like and this isn't heartbreak.

But I'm disappointed. And sad.

But I'll be OK.

Passing

I just found out that a former co-worker died.

We have known for a while that he was ill but no one was able to get any details about what was wrong with him or even where he was.

I personally had a pretty conflicted relationship with this man. On one occasion towards the end of his employment with us, I had to write him up because he was flagrantly insubordinate to me.

This was just one incident in a downward spiral. He had, at one time, been a very jovial, almost too-friendly employee but his personality slowly but drastically changed in the last couple years he was here.

It got to the point that he was no longer able to work.

But once he went on disability, it became more and more difficult to find out how he was doing. He would not return calls from coworkers and HR wouldn't (or couldn't) disclose details of his condition.

Plus, we heard from several of his friends and members of his family that he had distanced himself from them and was not responding to their attempts to reach out to him, either. It seems like he isolated himself pretty completely - and that makes me indescribably sad. To think of someone - anyone - being alone during the end of their life is bad enough, but to know that it happened because they made the decision to push their loved ones away is even sadder.

I'm feeling very numb right now and I just wish things could have been different.

Neverending Story

Sigh.

So my car got broken into last night.

Again.

This is at least the third time.

The part that kills me is that I live in an incredibly boring neighborhood. It's pretty damned safe and boring and quiet and boring.

The first time they stole my GPS.

Stupid of me to keep it in the car, I know. But I figured it was "safe" because I didn't advertise it - it was a handheld one with no mounting bracket or anything, and I stowed it in the middle compartment rather than leaving it or its paraphenilia out on the seat.

But it WAS stupid of me to keep it in the car.

I occasionally do stupid things.

But usually USUALLY I learn from them.

So I no longer leave anything of value in my car.

The second time they broke in, they stole my ipod charger and the earbud for my phone. Seriously? The earbud for my phone???? That's worth about $10.

But some people can't help being assholes. They just have to keep coming back for more.

This time, I'm not even sure they managed to get IN my car. There are pry marks all around my window and a few small gashes in the leather on the door. (I'm soooo thankful they use a jimmy instead of breaking my windows!) But as there was nothing NOTHING worth taking this time, nothing went missing.

I wish this shit would end.

But I accept that there's little I can do to prevent it, short of buying a car alarm for a 15yo POS. So I just protect myself as best I can by not tempting them and not rewarding them.

Maybe they'll get bored and discouraged and give up? *hoping really hard!!!*

Sigh.

I really doubt it. But a girl can dream...

Eye of the Beholder

It amazes me sometimes what people find humorous.

Apparently, nastiness and cruelty and humor at the expense of others is funny to some people. It's even encouraged by some.

Rape, too is fodder for jokes of all sorts.

And violence. Let's not forget violence. That's a laugh riot.

Balls

The other day, Rational mentioned Planters' Cheese Balls.

Do you remember those? They came in a can and were half salty processed cheese, half crunchy puffed corn, half msg, and half pure crack cocaine.

I loved those things. They were evil.

But thinking of them got me thinking of the first time I ever ate them. My brother, sister and I had been dumped at the neighbors' house. For the first time in our young lives we were spending the night at the home of someone not related to us WITHOUT our parents.

I don't remember much about these neighbors. I was nine years old at the time and my attention was on other things: the novelty of sleeping in a waterbed, sitting on the floor in a strange livingroom watching Godzilla movies and eating Cheese Balls and (for once) NOT fighting with David or Jo.

What I've never thought about before now is WHY we were dumped at our neighbors' house. I have a vauge memory of Mom and Dad dropping us off one afternoon with our jammies and nothing else. And then they were gone.

Only now do I realize the significance of that odd sleepover. The year I was nine was the year my grandmother died. I know that she suffered multiple heart attacks over the course of several months (I remember her once showing me the staples STAPLES in her chest)

So, what I remember as a novel little mini-adventure was probably just one of many hellish nights my mother spent worrying whether her own mother would live or die and then making the ultimate decision to pull the plug on all hope of her mother ever waking up again.

Second Wave

I'm being invaded again.

This time it's just my mom and dad (Jo and her spawn are staying home)

And there's not much need to entertain them. We'll hang out. We'll eat. We'll talk. We'll read our respective books.

It'll be difficult. But it'll be nice to see them. And at least this time I don't have to share the futon with a kid who's all knees and elbows...

I may not get my home to myself - but at least I'll have the futon all to my own.

Braille Parking

I get more flat tires than anyone I know.

And for someone who only drives (at most) 3,000 miles a year, that's quite a feat.

And I can never blame them on potholes or road rubbish. It's always my own fault. I'm not a bad driver - really I'm not.

In fact, my flats rarely occur when I'm actually driving the car. More often, I come back to where I've parked the thing and find the tire flat (and it's always the same tire)

My flats are never from a nail in the tread or a dented rim or any of the usual suspects. And I can never just get it patched or refilled. I always - ALWAYS - end up buying a new tire.

Because I rip the shit out of the sidewall.

Every time.

And I know how this happens. I parallel park by feel.

How close am I to the car in front of me?
*bump*
There it is!

How close am I to the car behind me?
*bump*
There it is!

How close am I to the curb?
*rubbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb*
Yep! There it is!

It's really a crime. Today's tire only had 6,000 miles on it.

So now it's time to play musical tires again: figure out which two are best and put them on the front...

I still have a leftover tire from the last time I did this and bought two new tires so I'll have that remounted - but now I need to buy a trunk organizer b/c that tire kept my trunk in pretty good order...

Oh well!

Happy Equinox, all!

King Rebate

Every once in a while, I open my mailbox and find a check or a postcard redeemable for cash.

Since I lack follow-through and almost always fail to mail in the mail-in-rebates for "sale" items I buy, 99 times out of 100 these rebates can be traced back to my dad.

He is the king of the mail-in-rebate. He's able to recoup an awful lot of money this way.

As I said, every so often I find these rebates in MY mailbox - usually because my dad has exceeded the number of rebates he can have delivered to *his* household.

When I collected my mail this morning (I'm bad about collecting it daily) I found not one but TWO rebates - and not the usual piddly $2 or $3 rebates. There was a postcard from Menards for $33 and a check from Budweiser for $15.

The Menards cards are pretty common. But a check from Budweiser? What was that about?

So I called him to find out.

E3: Hi Daddy
Dad: Hi, E3. What's up?
E3: Why am I getting a check for $15 from Budweiser?
Dad: Woooeeeeee!!! You won't believe this deal! I went to the store and they had a deal where if you buy two steaks and a 12-pack of Bud you get $15 back. Steaks were $7.50 each so essentially the steaks were free and you know I'll drink the beer eventually.
E3: But why did you mail it here?
Dad: Well. I bought four! I sent rebates to myself, you, David, and Jo.
E3: Um... So... You bought eight steaks and four cases of beer??
Dad: Yep! Helluva deal!
E3: And you weren't even having a party?

Paranoia

So my neighbor just called me.

I rarely get calls on my cell phone while I'm at work. I don't get good reception in here and most people email me if they want to get ahold of me.

Seeing that it was my neighbor was sort of like getting that 1am phone call: This can't be good!

As I'm fumbling with the "OK" button I'm getting flashes of my apartment on fire or my cat having leapt through the window screen or a dishwasher mishap on the third floor resulting in flooding through the building.

But no.

The managment company is cleaning the storage area today and anything not inside storage closets will be disposed of. My neighbor's closet is packed to busting. Mine has plenty of space and she just wanted to stash a couple chairs in there for a while and needed the combination to my lock.

Whooo!

Silly me.

First Fight

Got into my first fight with B on Sunday night.

It was stoopid - as all fights are - and really just amounted to a breakdown in communication.

But it was good. A few things got cleared up and I got to see his fighting style.

It's different from mine.

But that's to be expected.

I now have a better feel for what's in his head (he's not ever gonna be one of those guys who volunteers intimate information) and I can relax a bit about some things that were bothering me.

Of course, we kissed and made up. And then made up again.

:D

Analysis

So, I've given this a lot of thought. I've pondered it. I've weighed it. I've looked at from every angle imaginable.

And I've come to the conclusion that I over-analyze stuff.

I've also realized something very simple: Men do NOT do this.

Men do not analyze and re-analyze and over-analyze things.

They don't worry about what they're going to say to us and how we might interpret (or mis-interpret) it.

They don't run practice scripts past their friends before sending mundane emails.

They don't re-read our texts and try to find the hidden meaning in "I'll let you know"

Because to a man "I'll let you know" means, simply "I'll let you know"

Go figure.

Good Journey

My aunt's mother died yesterday.

This seems sad. But she was ready.

She was 108 years old.

That's right. 108 years old.

And, until about a month ago, she was spry and clever and energetic. She was the life of the party and a complete darling.

She considered life a journey and she met it with her eyes and heart open.

I think my favorite picture of her was taken just a few months ago. She'd been living in an assisted living facility for the past couple years but that barely slowed her down. On the day the photo was taken, a group of motorcycle enthusiasts brought a couple of Harleys to the home and all the ladies had their pictures taken on the bike.

Some of the ladies were afraid to climb on that big ol' hog, but not Rachel. She needed help, but she got on that bike, wrapped her arms around that "young" man's waist and gave the camera a big, bright, excited smile.

I can only hope to have a life half as full and fun as hers.

So, as sad as death is, I can't bring myself to lament such a well-lived life.

Wherever Rachel is now, I'm sure she's the life of the party.

Good Journey, Rachel.

The Summer of 1969

Oh when I look back now
That summer seemed to last forever
And if I had the choice
Ya - I'd always wanna be there
Those were the best days of my life
-Bryan Adams

The Summer of 1969 was eventful - for the U.S., for counter-culture, for the human population as a whole, and for ME - even though I wasn't born yet.

In Mid-July, Neil Armstrong, Michael Collins, and Buzz Aldrin flew to the moon, an awe-inspiring event which broadened the dreams of all Americans and profoundly affected the human race. (Though my dad will tell you now that it was all a great big hoax - ignore him)

In Mid-August, one of the most pivotal "moments" in the history of music and the counter-culture movement stretched across a dairy farm in Upstate New York and reached into the deepest corners of our imaginations.

And, on August 23rd - 40 years ago today - in a small church in a small town in Iowa, my mother (who wore a size 5 for the first and last time of her adult life) married my father.

The last forty years have been filled with triumphs and trials, feats and failures, births, deaths, joys, sorrows, celebrations, laments, dreams, plans, and goals, disappointments and fights.

Lots and lots of fights.

But far more smiles, hugs, laughs, and kisses. And above all: LOVE.

It hasn't been a smooth ride. But it hasn't been a boring one either.

Sometimes I wonder why I'm nearly 37 and never married. But then I take a look and realize it's because I've seen what I want: a PARTNER in every sense of the word. A relationship as full of life and laughter and love as the one my parents have built.

And I won't settle for less.

Congratulations, Mom and Dad.

And THANK YOU for the wonderful life you have built for us. I wouldn't trade my family for any other.

I love you.

What?? Huh?? WHAT????

I think I'm deaf.

What??

I Think I'm Deaf!

Huh???

I Think I'm DEAF!

WHAT????

I THINK I'M DEAF!!!

Oy. So. I'm house-sitting for a friend while she's visiting relatives this week. Not much to do, really, just water the potted plants in her back yard and feed the guppies.

We had some pretty wretched storms on Monday morning (we lost satellite tv at my gym at 5:30am) so I decided to run over to her house after work and make sure her basement didn't get any water (it's flooded before)

I unlocked the front door and walked in. The alarm beeped at me. I flipped open the key pad and tapped in the code.

But it didn't take. I tried to tap it in again. Nothing I entered was going through. It just said "OC"

And then the most horrible sound I've ever heard happened. It was like an air-raid siren. An air-raid siren going off two feet from my head. And it didn't stop. It wouldn't stop no matter what I did.

When the security company called, I gave them the password and they tried to talk me through disabling it. But they didn't seem to understand that the keypad wasn't taking my commands. They just kept telling me to enter in the code again. Argh!!!

Finally, they told me: "Let me transfer you to tech support"

What??

"Let me transfer you to tech support"

Huh???

"Let me transfer you to tech support"

WHAT????

boo hoo

So... I wanted to talk to ferrerman. I wanted to personally call him out for being so petty and small as to post under someone else's REAL NAME.

For some reason, he is incapable of understanding why we might consider this a threat.

Also, he's denying it, but too many of us SAW IT to fall for that!!! Plus I kept a screenshot which I will provide to anyone I trust who asks for it.


Newsflash, asshole! When you post the PERSONAL INFORMATION of someone with whom you're fighting on a public forum, you're being agressive and threatening to that person, you're using fear as a weapon. How can that NOT be seen as a threat?

Now, I had no way of conversing with him other than on Topix, so I decided to comment on his blog, knowing that he moderates his comments and could read my comments and choose to publish them or not.

Unsurprisingly, instead of getting my point that his actions were threatening and SCARY, he chose to see my comments as "taunts" (though I admit that I did freely call him a chickenshit coward and an asshole, which are only my true opinions of him)

Further, when I used examples in the hopes of getting him to realize how frightening his actions were, he still didn't understand where I was coming from. I'm sure he thought I was taunting him some more but I was trying to help him grow a little empathy, to see things from MY point of view. But no joy.

Seriously, he just doesn't understand why we consider his actions threatening. And that scares me even more.

So, basically, I am a "liar" and a "cunt"

But I have lied about NOTHING.

His actions were threatening and caused REAL FEAR.

I don't know why he finds that so hard to understand.

He claims to be "done with" us. One can only hope. I for one will believe it when I see it.

Threats

Something very scary happened on Topix today.

Many of you know about the on-going "feud" between a few of my imaginary friends and a poster who calls himself "ex-ferrerman"

Well, it's never been pleasant and despite my attempt to smooth things over with an open letter and his response, he continues his frightening, vindictive vendetta against us, following us, reading the innie threat searching for any mention of him - though most of us are content to pretend he doesn't exist.

At one point in our original argument, he frightened me badly. He had changed his name to "Boss of EEE" and wrote "See you on Facebook - Ooops!" which I took as a threat. It scared the shit out of me. Here was someone pissed off at me reminding me that he knew my real name.

But from his comment on my blog, I thought I could breathe easily, that he was "safe" but now I am back to being afraid of him.

Because today on Topix, he posted the real name of a dear friend of mine.

He changed it up a small bit, but it was clearly a threat.

This is a single woman who he's never met but for some reason he felt it appropriate to post her personal private information to the world. He has put her personal safety at risk and THREATENED her out of spite.

And make no mistake, posting another poster's real name in any form can only be considered a threat. It says "I know who you are and I can tell everyone if you make me mad enough."

I can't believe that I ever considered this person a friend.

I even friended him Facebook at one point - though only after he had found me through someone else. I was never fully comfortable with it and I wish to hell I'd never done it. But it would have made no difference. Because we had a "friend" in common (a "friend" who has since un-friended me in retribution to un-friending ferrerman) he was able to find my real name.

And now I'm terrified.

He knows my real name. And he's proven that he can't be trusted with this information.

I am very afraid. He claimed to me that he "just doesn't operate that way" yet here is proof that that is precisely how he DOES operate.

We all use psuedonyms and anonymous monikers on Topix out of a desire to protect our privacy.

Outing another poster in such a way can be interpreted as nothing more than a threat.

I have toyed with the idea of outing him in return, but _I_ have class and would never sink to his level.

I am disturbed by the number of people who continue to stand up for this creep. He has annoyed me in the past and I generally do not hold grudges, but now a very dear friend of mine is TERRIFIED for her own safety and that is something that I NEVER forgive.

But mostly, I'm heartbroken for my friend and the very real fear that she is going through right now.

What started as a stupid, petty argument has progressed to threats on his part.

I warn anyone dealing with him to be wary.

50-Yard Stare

So, I was in Iowa this weekend. We had a family picnic for my dad's side of the family on Saturday and the place was awash with spawn.

It was crazy hot - 93° and HUMID - and we found that it was best to sit in the shade outside the shelter-thingy (which had about a dozen fans whirring)

I was sort of watching my sister's spawn (and one or two or thirty other kids) with several of my cousins or cousins' wives from a picnic table on a hill which gave us a pretty good view of most of the park (it was HUGE with lots of really cool stuff including a neat wooden "treehouse" with a slide and a rope bridge and other stuff that make me really wish I were a little kid again!)

There was also a pond. The pond was downhill from us and part of it was obscured by a small knoll. This spot, of course, was where several of the children (including Little E and the E-man) kept wandering off to.

We told them repeatedly to stay away from the water (it was shallow, but covered in a lot of ropey algae) but every time we took our eyes off them, they were right back at the water's edge.

The fourth time this happened, I caught my cousin's son and the E-man poking sticks at snails and took the E-man aside.

E3: I told you not to go down there any more.
E-man: (pointing at his cousin) He started it!
E3: And you finished it. I told you not to and you did it anyway.
E-man: (silence)
E3: Listen, we aren't telling you not to go there because we're mean or because we don't want you to have fun. We're telling not to go there because it's dangerous. If you fall in you could get caught in the plants and drown. We love you and we don't want you to get hurt.
E-man: (silence - with a blank expression)

I'm pretty sure this is what he heard:

E3: "Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah we're mean Blah Blah Blah we don't want you to have fun Blah Blah Blah..."

Sigh.

Happy Birthday Mom!

Today is my mom’s birthday.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!!!!!!

I am unbelievably lucky to have such a sweet, patient, generous, loving woman as my mother. She is a far far better person than I can ever hope to be. Which is not to say that she is by any means perfect, but she is definitely one of the best people I know.

I love you, Mom and I hope you have a wonderful birthday!

Time Flies; Except when it stands still…

Is it August already? This year – hell, this whole decade – is flying by.

If only I could say the same for this workweek.

For all that I can’t believe that it’s already August (busy month for me: Mom’s birthday, Little E’s birthday, my best friend’s birthday, our annual family picnic, and my parents’ 40th wedding anniversary) I find it even harder to believe that it is still Tuesday.

Early Show

I’m an early riser. I try to leave for the gym by 5am most mornings. In order to accomplish this, I have several alarms which go off beginning at 4:30. The “big” alarm is the one in the livingroom. It gets progressively louder the longer I leave it untended, and not wanting to annoy my neighbors, I usually jump out of bed and run to turn it off – which really wakes me up.

But this morning I didn’t need my alarms.

I woke up around 4:10 and, feeling a chill breeze coming in from the windows, turned off my bedroom fan. I laid there for a minute or so, trying to reclaim those last ten minutes of sleep. But I couldn’t sleep.

Mostly because of the voices.

I heard voices. Male voices. They were whispering and they were obviously nearby. My heart began to pound. Was someone in my apartment???

Then I realized that they were coming from outside my window. In addition, I could hear a small metallic sound, like keys or some other small objects scraping against each other.

I lay very very still, trying to make out what might be happening. My building is U-shaped, and my bedroom window is kitty-corner with my neighbor’s livingroom window. This is a great arrangement for both sets of kitties, who spend hours staring one another down across the six-foot distance.

Below those neighbors is a garden unit complete with a small private patio. My bedroom window looks directly down on this patio. Since I rarely spend much time looking out by bedroom window, this is no big deal.

Now, the garden units are the only ones in the building which can be accessed without first going through a security door. Whoever was out there was obviously trying to be very quiet. My first thought, then, was that someone was trying to break in.

I didn’t want to look out my window – it was too close to the patio and I’d have to pull my shade aside to look out. I didn’t think I could spy without drawing attention to myself. And I didn’t know who was out there and if they might be armed or what. So I crept out of my bedroom as quietly as I could and made my way to my living room where the blinds were half open and I could peer out without being seen.

I didn’t turn on any lights, but I did grab my cell phone on the way in case I had to call the police about possible home invaders.

But I didn’t see home invaders when I crawled onto the couch and craned my neck to look out the window and over at my neighbor’s patio.

I saw my neighbor. And his boyfriend. Nekkid. Kissing. And... other stuff.

Ooops!

I stepped back, relieved. No break-in. No intruders. No need to call the cops. Just two guys thoroughly enjoying themselves.

I went and laid down on the futon my office – whose windows look out over the back garden – and tried to salvage the last few minutes of night before my alarm would go off.

Good News; Bad News

So I'm beginning to believe that I am unlucky to those around me.

Worse: for every bit of good news that I receive, someone dear to me seems to receive bad news.

And it happened again today. In the worst possible way.

Good News:
My father had his surgery today. It went well and he is completely fine. As they were removing the bladder stone, they examined his bladder for any signs of recurance of the pre-cancerous tumors. Nothing.

Yea!

Bad News:
My very dear friend Angelique had to rush home from her trip abroad due to the unexpected death of a friend. As if this were not bad enough, she and her husband received news that his mother had also died.

I do not have any details but I know this: Angelique has been a very dear and supportive friend to me and my heart aches to know that she and her husband are going through this.

I'm not much for prayers, and I never know exactly the "right" thing to say in these situations. But Angelique and her family are in my thoughts and I can only send them my deepest sympathies and all my love during this difficult time.

Not so much

Hehehe...

I had a funny conversation yesterday with my friend Sam in Denver. We were talking about dating - I told her a couple months ago about B and she was excited because he's definitely HER type of guy more so than mine - on the surface anyway - and I can generally say that she is nearly every guy's "type" : tall, tiny waist, stacked, and a natural redhead, and FUN!

EEE: So I'm still seeing that guy B I told you about
Sam: Yea! I'm so happy for you and so jealous!
EEE: Yeah, I'm pretty happy for me, too!
Sam: So are you a thrash metal fan yet?
EEE: Um... Let me check. "SLAYER!!!!!" *pause* Nope.

But I'm trying. B played some Slayer for me on his Zen and then he put in a Slayer video. The bald guy with the head tats is pretty hot, and I kind of liked one song, but I really don't see a life of Slayer Super Fandom in my future.

God. Am I really falling for a Slayer fan?????

Yes. Yes I am.

:D

Gut Check

My dad his having surgery in a couple weeks.

On his bladder.

*GULP*

He aggravates the hell out of me sometimes. Seriously, he would try the patience of a saint.

Last night is a good example: he called me with one of his patented "Help me walk through something simple* on the computer" calls.

*Note: "simple" is a bit of a misnomer. There's no such thing as "simple" when my dad is involved. He has an extrodinary talent to make things more difficult than they need to be. (a talent that I have inherited on an exponential scale)

After a few frustrated minutes of trying to explain to my dad how to log onto his gmail accout from my uncle's home - minutes which had me close to pulling my hair out - I demanded that he put my mom on the phone.

Despite having to deal with the fact that she isn't wearing her hearing aid (again) I got them logged in pretty quickly.

So.... I found out today that he's going in for surgery in a couple weeks. Of course, neither he nor my mother told me this. I found out from my sister, who herself found out when she was at their house today to feed the world's fattest cutest kittycat (this cat has bunny fur - she's adorable)

Anyway, my parents keep a calendar on the island in their kitchen (their social lives make me look like an 80yo shut in) and Jo noticed that there was a notation on the 31st "Dad - SURGERY - No food for 24hrs"

*GULP*

So, from my mom I found that the surgery is on his bladder.

*DOUBLE GULP*

It's been over a year since that dreaded word entered my life:

CHEMO.

He got an all clear six months ago and apparently. But he was going in for yet another checkup on his bladder last week when they found a bladder stone.

I've never heard of bladder stones. Dad and Jo both get kidney stones (Jo's actually been put on a low oxilate diet by her doctor b/c she gets them so often) and my mom and brother have had gall stones. But I've never heard of bladder stones.

Apparently, his doctor does not think the stone is at all related to cancer (*GULP*) and it isn't giving him any painful symptoms, but because of the shape of the stone (it's L shaped) the doctor doesn't think my dad would want to try to pass it - OW! So they're going to pulverize it or whatever.

So the surgery (*GULP*) is really no big deal, but we'll always be a bit sensitive to anything related to Dad's bladder.

New Obsession

I have a new obsession.

Luckily it's a relatively healthy one.

Sharon and I have been completely stumped by my recent, on-going diet plateau. And I have been very annoyed and frustrated. I've been doing a pretty good job of following the rules: being active and eating healthy (blech!) but I'm just maintaining. We've even tried mixing up my workouts (more Zone 2 stuff for a couple weeks, more Zone 3 stuff when that didn't work)

I'm ready to pull my hair out (though, since my hair doesn't weigh 40 lbs like Angelique's that won't do me much good!)

I mean, what happens if I DON'T workout 5x per week and eat 5 million grams of fiber a day????

So this week I started keeping a detailed and complete food diary. Boooooring! Right? Well, it's been OK. And kind of illuminating.

I'm using dailyplate.com which is part of Lance Armstrong's LiveStrong site. I'm not a huge fan of the Lance (sorry Garth) but the dailyplate is free and pretty easy to use.

The thing I'm noticing most is that it keeps me honest about what I'm eating. Yes, I can choose to eat a second 100 cal Skinny Cow Fudge Bar - but I have to also log that into the site and watch my daily calorie % jump up.

We'll see if this has any lasting impact. I lost 1.5 pounds this week, but that may be sweat from the horrible heat last night (I'm refusing to turn my AC on unless the temp hits 90°)

Anyway, the week is winding down. Wishing everyone a happy day!

Smile, Dammit!

I’m forcing myself to be in a good mood today.

I have no real reason to be in a bad mood but I’ve been feeling a little “meh” the past couple days.

Things are generally good and I just need to concentrate on the things in the “Pro” column and ignore the “Con”

Pro:
Everyone I love is healthy
I have a good job that pays my bills
The revisions on my novel (while slow) are going well
I have dear and supportive friends who love me
There’s a guy I like who seems to like me back

But it’s sooooo easy to dwell on the bad stuff

But I’m not going to.

La La La!

Luckily, I’m one of those people who can improve her mood by forcing myself to smile. I don’t know the actual statistic, but something like 50% of people can actually elevate their mood by smiling, even when they don’t want to. Some sort of muscular placebo or something. I don’t know or care how it works, I just know that it does.

So I’m making a point of smiling today. I’m doing it right now. The people around me on the train probably think I’m a little nuts. Hehehe… They’re not wrong.

Anyway, I hope everyone finds a reason to smile today, even if you have to make it up!

:D

A Case of the Mondays

I always chuckled over this quote from Office Space:

Peter: When you come in on Monday and you're not feeling real well, does anyone ever say to you, "Sounds like someone has a case of the Mondays"?
Lawrence: No. No, man. Shit. No man! You'd get your ass kicked sayin' something like that, man.

Now, I’ve never had a case of the Mondays. In general, I honestly like Mondays. It helps that I like my job a lot, but the real reason, as I’ve mentioned before, is that there’s a purity to Mondays that the rest of the week lacks. It’s full of potential and opportunity. Anything can happen.

But I’m not especially feeling it today. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still better than Friday (aka: the loooooooongest day of the week!)

But I’m Ron this week. I’ve actually been Ron since Wednesday last week. I’m not normally called upon to play the boss more than a day or two at a stretch, but he has decided to take a well-earned vacation and won’t be back until next Monday.

Things have been mostly quiet so I’m hoping that the bizarre personnel issues that inevitably crop up when he is off won’t happen this week, but I’m not overly optimistic.

There is one bright spot to my week, though. B generally doesn’t work Fridays anyway, so his employer declared today their holiday. Which means he won’t be working until freaking 8pm tonight and we can meet for dinner tonight.

:D

Anyway. Here’s hoping for a great Monday to you all and great week!

First Impressions

I’m wrong a lot. But I try to learn from my mistakes.

It’s hard though, because deep down in my soul, I’m a little naïve and a lot gullible. But I can’t help but give people the benefit of the doubt.

When I meet people under bad circumstances, I assume there’s hope for a middle ground if we’re open and honest with one another and try to fid the root of our disagreements. Because I’m fine with disagreement – hell, I love a good spirited argument. As long as they’re done respectfully.

And there have been several times recently where I’ve given someone the benefit of the doubt and been not only disappointed, but left feeling betrayed.

And the opposite has also been true.

Take B. I think I judged him too soon and underestimated him.

When I first met him, I categorized him as “just a guy” – because he works blue-collar, likes beer and sports and thrash metal. I had this sort of two-dimensional image of him as this smart-ass dude who likes to work hard and play hard but has no real depth to him. I mean – he doesn’t even listen to NPR! ;p

But the more I get to know him, the more I am learning what a genuinely good person he is. He has his issues and faults (we all do) but so far none of them involve anything that would hurt anyone else. In fact, I’m finding that he’s a remarkably caring and selfless person.

Don’t get me wrong, he’s definitely not the sort of person who’ll let others walk over him and he’s pretty firm in his opinions. But he’s honest and funny and real and just GOOD.

And I think I might be falling….

Shit.

The Third Ring of Hell

I have seen the face of Hell and it is the American Girl Doll Store.

My parents, my sister, and I took Little E there two weeks ago. We rode the train downtown and I had to listen to my family bitch about the weather – as if it were my fault or some failing of Chicago itself that it was not 75º and Sunny – as we rushed the two blocks from the subway to Michigan Avenue.

All morning Little E had been asking “What are we doing today?”

EEE: We’re going shopping
Little E: But… what are we doing?
EEE: What do you mean?
Little E: You know how yesterday we went to the Museum? What are we doing today?
EEE: We’re going shopping
Little E: (frowning) But what SPECIAL thing are we doing today?
EEE: We’re not, honey. We’re just going shopping.
Little E: Oh.

I was, of course, lying shamelessly to her. (Is it wrong to play pranks of this sort on a 7yo?)

She had been chattering on endlessly about the American Girl Doll Store for weeks apparently. I’m not sure how she learned about it. I mean, she got a doll of Xmas, but I don't know how she found out about the Doll Mother Ship. I would think that her little friends are too young to have such an information network in place just yet, but I guess I’m wrong.

She brought her doll with her to Chicago, but we’d already told her that we weren’t going to go. She was pragmatic about this, assuming we'd do other fun stuff.

So when we approached the doors of the store, I stopped and said, “Hey, Little E, what store is that?”

She looked up at the sign and her eyes went big and round and then a frown marred her perfect little forehead.

Little E: But I didn’t bring my doll today!!
EEE: No? Uh oh! Maybe Grandma will go back and get it. Ask her.

My mother had been standing behind us and she’d already pulled out Little E’s doll from her voluminous bag.

I never saw a kid look so happy. We spent about two hours in that store. She took her doll to the “Salon” to get her hair coiffed (can you imagine if that were your job? Styling doll hair all day?) and she picked out a new outfit. We had told her going in that she could get one – ONE – new outfit and she was very serious in her decision-making process.


Luckily there were benches available for Dads and Grandfathers (and jaded Aunties) to rest their barking dogs. Luckier still, the Café had scheduled seatings and 12:30 and 2:30 and we were there too late for the first and too early for the next. I think my father’s head would have imploded if he’d been forced to sit through a meal at which a $100 doll was seated to his right.

Of course, before we left, Grandpa had to surprise Little E with a little red “doll tote” (shoulder bag) that he thought was cute and practical. (He’s such a phony!)

All in all, it wasn’t that bad. There were a monkey ton of little girls there but they were all remarkably well-behaved. They were patient and quiet and there was very little running around.

So it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.

But they don't sell American Girl Beer, in case you were wondering. I know: I asked.

NOT PREGNANT!!!

I've never been so happy to ruin a pair of panties!!!

:D

Not Late... Yet

I'm so stoopid.

I'm not even late yet and I took extra measures, but I'm still obsessing about the "condom mishap"

The thing is, I'm not late. But I'm not early either.

And I've been about three to four days early every month for the past six months. I've found it incredibly annoying. And now that it hasn't happened, I'm starting to worry (just a little) about what it might mean.

Of course, it very likely means NOTHING! (Just like every other thing I obsess about!)

But it's sometimes very hard for my rational side to control my spazz side.

I'm not to the point where I'm ready to pee on a stick - Hell it's too early anyway. But my brain is constantly reviewing all the potential scenarios. Oy.

And I would hate Hate HATE to have to lay this at B's door right now. He lost his job on Friday. (I'm fairly certain that I am unlucky to those around me - my best friend's basement flooded on Friday and another friend was diagnosed with an ulcer)

It's most-likely nothing. But I've never wanted to get my period so badly in my whole life.

Plan B

So I'm in a much much better mood today.

I was nearly unbearable when I left work yesterday. Aside from the Topix drama, I had a headache, a project I've been slaving over has been experiencing on-going and frustrating technical difficulties, and the zipper on my favorite pants broke (I had to use a safety pin!)

And I was annoyed because B had just told me he'd be out of town this weekend. Grrr! I couldn't see him last weekend b/c of my family and then he was working his second job all this week and now the coming weekend was shot. Dammit!

But, by some miracle, he was free last night and we were able to spend the evening together!

:D

I was still a little pissy when I got to his place, but he soon had me laughing and smiling and relaxing (I'm sure the G&Ts he was mixing me didn't hurt!)

We had a lot of fun. A LOT of fun.

There was only one thing to mar our lovely evening.

We had a... shall we say... prophylactic mishap.

Eeeeek!!!!

Now, I've been PMSing for two days and we're fairly certain none of his little fuckers escaped, but neither of us is willing to take the chance.

So I trotted over to CVS this morning and purchased Plan B. If you're not familiar with it, Plan B is a high does of levonrgestrel, a common birth control hormone. I took one this morning and will take a second 12 hours later.

It's $50! (Eeeek!) but WAY better than the alternative (Double EEEK!) as unlikely as that alternative may be. I am living proof that the "Rhythm Method" does not work, so I'll choose B.

Side effect may include: nausea, dizziness, headache, stomach ache, breast tenderness, shorter/longer/later/earlier/lighter/heavier periods.

What the side effects do NOT include are 40+ years of child rearing with a man I've only known for about two months!

So I'll take B!

Heartbroken

My heart is breaking.

It doesn't help that I'm seriously PMSing right now, but something very precious is being ripped apart and all I can say is that I am heartbroken.

A year ago next month, we created a lovely thread on Topix called the Introvert Quorum. We chatted about our boring introverted lives. We chatted, mixed each other imaginary drinks, shared good news and bad. It was a warm and supportive place.

Occasionally, a troll would pop in. We would ignore it and it would get bored and go away.

Then, a reg or two would pop in. We would acknowledge them, scold them for bothering us and they would go away.

Then another reg would pop in and then another. Only now when we would ask them to leave, they would argue - kicking up a fuss. We became frustrated and started spending less time in sweet companionship and more time annoyed by the invaders.

And then our IQ thread was pulled. For absolutely no reason. We were heartbroken but not defeated. We created a new Introvert Room - but it had the same problems as the first.

So we created an alternate Introvert Offshore thread, away from the Tribune pages, while leaving the Introvert Room thread active to act as a decoy. We thought this would solve our problems.

But alas...

We felt free in our new space to discuss the issues in our lives, including personal issues with other posters. Should we have discussed other posters in that forum? No. But we were shocked when that exact poster showed up and started posting on our "secret" Introvert thread.

I lost it. I was enraged that this person - who I had always been friendly with - could show such blatant disrespect for our wishes. And I was not alone. Several of the innies joined me in my ire. A flamewar began and burned over Topix and Facebook and onto my blog.

I posted a letter to this person, apologizing for my ititial over-reaction to his posting, but have never once received an apology for the nasty things he has said to me. In his eyes, he is blameless. He has even thrown my apology back in my face, claiming it was nullified by the actions I was apologizing for.

Buh?

I do something I regret.
I sincerely apologize for it.
But my apology is meaningless because of the the thing I did in the first place.

Someone explain that to me.

Anyway. So We hash things out - I assume. We leave him alone and he leaves us alone. Until, out of nowhere, he posts a snarky email about A - on a thread that she isn't even arguing on! - and I become angry again, asking him why he can't leave it alone. The flamewar erupts again.

We do some things that perhaps we should not have done but we were pushed too far by this person who acts like we are unreasonable and "too touchy" when most of us know the truth about him and the disgusting things he has done.

His response: to out our most recent secret Introvert thread.

Now the ONLY way he could have found this is to have gone looking for it. This is a seriously disturbing action by a man who has already shown his obsession for a certain member of our group.

And now the group seems to be falling apart.

And my heart is breaking.

And I hope this asshole is happy.

Unrest

Backup! I’m about to get political again.

I’m very disturbed by the situations in Iran and N. Korea right now. They’re just rife with the potential to explode all over us – almost literally.

I harbor no illusions that the “re-count” in certain disputed polling places in Iran will have any impact on the election results other than to allow Amademajad to later use the re-count as further evidence of his supposed win.

What I find interesting is President Obama’s restraint. I have never been a huge fan of the man, though I do really like his emphasis on diplomacy over force and I really liked his Cairo speech a couple weeks ago.

As always, he has been very careful with his words in the last few days – condemning the violence but praising the protests themselves as the basic human right of people to voice their opinions peacefully.

John McCain has already stepped forward, suggesting that Obama has not been harsh enough with Amademajad and his government.

Hmmm….. Let’s think about this shall we? Amademajad hates the United States. He hates a lot of things, actually and has actively campaigned on an anti-Western platform. Fine. That’s his right. We can’t all agree. And let’s face it: they have reason to dislike us.

He has long complained about the United States’ interference in Middle Eastern affairs. It’s one of his favorite topics.

So, if Mr. Obama were to come over all forcefully chastizy and condemny, we’d be giving Amademajad exactly what he wants. He’d be able to say “SEE!!! I told you the Evil United States is trying to take over Iran just as they took over Iraq and Afghanistan!”

So it’s a fine line that Mr. Obama needs to balance on. He needs to promote human rights and a fair electoral process while being supportive of a sovereign nation’s right to manage its own affairs. And so far he’s doing a pretty good job of it. I hope he keeps it up.

As for North Korea…. I don’t have a crystal ball and I’m pretty bad at predicting the future, but I would not be surprised if someone on “our” side (like…. Biden) were to push Kim’s buttons just enough to force Kim to mount a face-saving isolated attack (probably against South Korea or a U.S. vessel) and then we’d be “free” to stage a full-on invasion of North Korea with the magical “They Struck First” card clamped tightly in our fists.

I hope I’m wrong. I hope our powers of diplomacy are stronger than the combined egos that are running amok here.

Open Letter - Part 2

So, apparently my original apology in my first Open Letter has been deemed pointless due to the enormity of my original transgression.

And apparently, you yourself are lily white and pure and above reproach in this entire exchange. Forget your continued stalking and digs at A. Forget your harping on about my lack of "original thought." Forget everything you may have contributed to this situation.

Not only are you unwilling to accept my apology for my actions - you continue to dredge it up and throw it back in my face.

You have no class.

The Question

Hehehe…

My sister has a fun conversation to look forward to.

She was visiting this weekend along with our parents and her daughter, Little E, who will be eight years old in August and just finished second grade.

Little E is freaking adorable. She’s quite a good little gymnast (won 3rd Place in the All-Around at Nationals last week) is an avid reader (finished the “chapter book” she brought with her to my place so I gave her my copy of “The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe” and she’s burning through it!) and she’s hella curious about EVERYTHING.

We went to the “Real Pirates” exhibit at the Field Museum which tracks the history of a ship that started as a slaving vessel, became a pirate ship, sank, and was recovered despite the fact that it was buried beneath 30 feet of sand.

Little E was quite somber and serious as she viewed the shackles and branding needles and saw the schematics of how people were shoved into the cargo hold of this ship.

“But WHY?” she asked, her little forehead furrowed into a frown.
“People will do horrible things for money,” we told her.

She’s beginning to ask ever-harder questions now and she had a doozy for my sister the other night.

We had just finished watching “Bride Wars” which wasn’t as dismal as I’d thought it would be and she started to ask Jo about when “you and Daddy got married”

Uh oh.

Jo never married the Waste of Space. It was the one smart thing she ever did in regards to him. The kids know that their Mommy and Daddy don’t live together – they haven’t since E-man was less than a year old.

Jo, not one to lie to her spawn, told her: “Your Daddy and I were never married.”
Little E: (indignant) Yeah you were!
Jo: No.
Little E: (frowning in 7yo consternation) But… But then how were we born?
Jo looked at us helplessly and I couldn’t prevent a smug little smile.

She managed to deflect The Question with some strategically offered ice cream, but she won’t be able to deflect it. That’s the way it is with kids and their questions. They don’t go away.

Invasion

Eeeek!

I'm being invaded today!

(And not in a fun, dirty way!)

My family is coming to visit. My parents, my sister Jo, and Little E.

The E-man is staying with his other grandparents for the weekend. We've told him he can visit after he finishes kindergarten next year.

I love my family. I love them a lot. And my apartment is the perfect size for one person. Two bedrooms and one bath is just fine for a single woman with two cats.

But it becomes pretty tight when three more adults and a child descend.

So... I'm trying to not stress out about this. I'm planning to hit the gym each day to get a couple hours alone (and perhaps use the shower)

And I'm going to look at visiting The American Girl Doll MegaStore as an "experience" and try not to lose my nut.

Sigh.

Wish me luck!

Draft

I finished the first draft of my novel!

Happy dance!

It needs a LOT of revision and rework, but IT’S DONE!!!!

It has a beginning, a middle, and an end.

It’s not the first novel I’ve written but it’s by far the best (though that isn’t saying too much!)

But still! It’s done!!!

Yippee!!!

Social Butterfly

Ugh. So lately I've had to be a bit of a social butterfly. And you KNOW how much I'd rather be a quiet little moth.

My dear friend Sara, who is a raging extrovert, was in town this weekend and we ran the whole gamut - shopping, dining, drinking, and helped our mutual friend host a party.

EEE tired.

Luckily, she stayed with my best friend instead (her place is bigger and she, too, is an extrovert) so I was able to escape to my own home each night to recuperate.

Except last night.

Last night I escaped to B's place. Can't complain about that!

I'm having a lot of fun there. He's irreverent and sweet and a damned good kisser and I really enjoy his company. It helps that he is a fellow introvert and we each recognize the other's need for innie time!

:D

Swamped

Bella recently asked if I was abandoning Topix for good.

NO!

I'm just really busy right now and don't have a lot of time to devote to it.

As far as I'm concerned, the recent issue is resolved. Bridges that probably needed to be burnt are now ash and can be swept away.

I'm around, just swamped.

That said, the innie room probably won't come back to Topix. I think we learned that even if you don't go looking for trouble, if it really wants to it'll find you.

Round Two

Round 2 Officially goes to ME!

BG: 1 EEE: 1

The Black Ghost is my “other” cat. She’s small, black, and feral. And I, being a first class chump, agreed to adopt her several years ago.

She’s generally a sweet kitty, but she’s very cautious of me (and any other human) which means that I cannot pick her up and can only pet her on her terms (usually when I’m on the sofa with a computer on my lap)

Saturday morning, I came back from the gym and sat down on the couch with a cup of coffee and checked my email. A few moments later, BG was there at my sides, demanding scratchies. I pet her absently, not really noticing that her face was a little wet.

A moment later, she yowled at me. Not her usual “Pet Me!” mew or her “I’M STARVING! FEED ME, BITCH!” yell. This yowl sounded a bit distressed and I turned to look at her in surprise.

Her right eye was completely swollen closed and was weeping clear liquid (tears?)

Grabbing her to get a closer look was out of the question. I called the vet, and while they thought it *might* be just a cold – especially since she was otherwise acting normally – but they’d really like me to bring her in. They had a 1pm appointment available if I could catch her.

If I could catch her. Hahaha! In the four years I’ve been her servant, I’ve never been able to single-handedly catch this cat. One time three years ago a vet and vet tech came to the house and were able to corral her – with a certain amount of blood being drawn from the very good-natured tech.

But when I tried to trick her into her cage several months ago using veal-flavored baby food (cats LOVE that shit) she proved to be both smarter and faster than me.

But not this time.

I closed Fluffy Butt in the bedroom, knowing that BG was eating in the other room and not wanting her to get under the bed. And then, while she was standing outside the bedroom door, inspecting the ruckus Fluffy was making, I noticed that she was also very close to the bathroom door. On a whim, I moved towards her and she backed up. Before she realized she’d penned herself, I shut the door and had her.

From there it was simple. Let her stew in there for a few minutes and then came back with a bit of baby food. The cat was sitting in the bathtub. Perfect! I gave her the food, and as soon as her attention was diverted, I grabbed her with a beach towel, shoved her into her top-loading carrier and done.

And I didn’t get a scratch on me!

The vet sedated her, washed her poor swollen eye, gave her pain meds (a shoulder patch that will fall off in a few days) gave me steroids, antibiotics and eyedrops (yeah, that’s gonna happen!) gave her her shots, examined her from head to tail, clipped her nails (free of charge!) and called me after only 15 minutes.

I guess it’s pretty easy to examine even a wild kitty once she’s been knocked unconscious!

And, $400 later, she’s home and doing better. I need to keep an eye on her eye, but she seems pretty content. And I’m getting no complaints about her meds (seriously, cats love baby food!) If her eye isn’t a lot better tomorrow, I’ll have to bring her in again.

We’ll see if I can duplicate that. Like I said, she’s smarter than me. I doubt she’ll let me corner again. Hopefully I won’t have to.

Blah...

Where the hell is the sun today? It was supposed to be sunny and pretty today.

I want my money back.

Open Letter

This is an open letter to the person with whom I had a rather heated disagreement yesterday.

First allow me to apologize for my initial over-reaction. I do not blame you for the entire situation, but we had clearly gone to some lengths to avoid others and your arrival and your assertion that we “wanted to be found” was frankly insulting and disrespectful from someone who I had thought of as a friend.

I am fairly certain (hopeful?) that you did not intend to frighten me with your comment about Facebook yesterday.

But you did.

I can think of no other reason why you would have changed your name to mirror mine and then posted that you’d “see” me – other than to remind me that you are privy to my name, my face, and my friends.

I hope I am wrong, but that post made me extremely uncomfortable and fearful. And I do not like feeling this way.

I apologize if you are offended by this, but I have learned in my years as a single woman that I cannot play games with my personal safety – even if I insult others and end up looking like a fool.

Sorry.

I plan to give you a wide berth in the future and I ask that you please respect me enough to do the same for me.

Thank you.

-E

Lackey

So, I am apparently a "lackey"

Good to know.

I'd hate to think that I was actually thinking for myself and forming my own opinions about things.

But apparently, if my opinion matches someone else's about a certain issue and if I state my opinion clearly and definitively (and heatedly) - I am nothing but a mindless lackey.

That'll learn me.

Will someone tell me what I'm supposed to think today?

Thanks.

Best Laid Plans

Ah, the best laid plans.... (pun SO intended)

I had absolutely no intention of sleeping with my date last night.

Yeah...

:D

Gulp

*gulp*!

Date #3 tonight.

Aaack!

DATE #3 TONIGHT!

Yippeee!!!!!

DATE #3 TONIGHT!!!!

:D

Of course, my face has decided it hates me. I totally broke out over night. Stoopid face.

Grrrr!

But I can't get too upset about it.

Date #3 Tonight!

:D

And NO: I am NOT going to sleep with him! (Not YET anyway....)

Happy Holiday Weekend, All!!!!

Wish me luck!

Peek-a-boo

Huh.

I thought that the whole low-pants-high-panties trend had played itself out.

Guess I’m wrong (wouldn’t be the first time – or the last) A woman sitting across from me on the train looks pretty professional at first glance: 30ish with a neat blond bob, silver iPod, frappachino, clean-pressed khakis, designer bag, and a pretty blue blouse.

And a lime-green thong.

Cotton. With a nice lace edge.

Not that I’m complaining.

Stick

I got it into my head recently that I should learn to drive a stick.

Seriously, there was no way in hell my dad was going to teach me twenty years ago when I was first learning to drive (Gak! Has it been twenty effing years??!!) For one thing we didn’t own a stick and for another, our father-daughter driving lessons lasted all of twenty minutes before my dad yelled at me to stop the car and get out. When he’d calmed down, he told me to sign up for Driver’s Ed at school.

That was my own and only D in school. I was pissed that it dragged down my GPA, but hey, I passed. (Actually got a B-minus in that class – Written: A; Practical: D-minus)

I’m a much better driver now. My main problem back then was that I was timid and inattentive. (And it wasn’t just driving where those personality traits manifested themselves – my whole persona was timid and inattentive)

“Timid” definitely does not describe my driving now. I like to call myself “assertive” – aggressive enough to move through traffic but patient enough to deal with gridlock and other people’s stoopidity without losing my nut. And I’m very attentive and aware of what’s going on around me (I do NOT understand how people can think that it’s OK to text and drive – Seriously? You’re flinging around a full ton of metal, glass, and flammable fluids! Pay attention!) And I’m good about sharing the road with motorcycles, bicycles, pedestrians, and squirrels.

So I’m a fairly good driver aside from a bit of a lead foot.

But I never learned how to drive a stick.

I know that it’s a skill that I’ll probably never NEED but you never know when you might be stranded on some third-world island nation with only a 1975 Jeep Wrangler available to get you out of the path of the grumbling volcano….

So I think I’m going to look into taking a few driving lessons.

But it’ll have to wait until my bank balance recovers from the recent repairs to the car I already own.

I was gonna wish you all a Happy Monday but then I realized it’s Tuesday.

It’s Monday to me. Yea! Mondays Rule!

;D

Cheers all.

The slooooow zone

Ugh. So I’ve been stuck on this plateau for ages. Seriously, I’m starting to go backwards. I had lost 25 pounds but I’ve effing gained five of them back. Dammit.

I tried working out harder and even mixed up my routine (no choice with the foot injury) but there’s not a whole lot I can do about my calories. My base metabolic rate is 1300 calories. I can shave off a couple hundred but it’s hard and dipping below 1000 is just stoopid.

So Sharon’s got a new plan.

For the next two weeks not only am I not allowed to go into Zone 4 – which I generally only did for short intervals a couple times a week – but I’m also not allowed to go into Zone 3.

Now, for me, Zone 3 is 142 to 164 bpm. And it’s harder than you’d think to stay below that benchmark. It’s hard and it’s booooooring. Add to that, she wants me to workout longer. Double boring.

But I’m willing to try anything at this point.

I’m also not allowed to lift heavy weights. She wants me doing very very very light weights (8 pound bicep curls? Seriously???) with high reps (3 sets of 20)

Today was especially difficult for me because I managed to forget my pod (which I still think of as my “walkman”) so I had to listen to all the obnoxious ambient gym noises and the annoying spinning music from the Boot Camp class (they always spin on Wednesdays)

Sigh.

The best part? On the weekend I’m supposed to do a recover workout. Recover from what?!

At least my sweatbands are getting a rest.

Happy Wednesday!

The Mythical Second Date…

I was beginning to think they didn’t really exist, that they were just something fanciful that mothers told their daughters about to lull them to sleep. Like mermaids and unicorns and honest politicians...

But tonight I will have solid proof that they DO exist.

A real-life, honest-to-goodness Second Date.

I’m going out again with B.

Holy carp!

A certain someone has referred to him as “the Frat boy” and that description might be apt (he likes sports, beer, sports, video games, sports, beer…. you get the picture) but I’m trying not to be judgmental. Our first date was good and we’ve talked on the phone a few times since then.

I worried a little that he was maybe TOO irreverent and Dude-ish, but he opened up a bit last night on the phone and I think I’m dealing with a decent human being here. A bit blunt perhaps, but no artifice or pretention, which you know I like.

Most of all, he makes me laugh. Seriously…. There’s a perpetual smile on my face whenever I talk to him.

And it doesn’t hurt that he’s cute.

:)

But, again, we’ve only been on one date. We’ll see how things go tonight.

Angel, do you want a blood sample? I think my PEA levels are spiking…

:D

A classy brush-off

So, as some of you may know, I went out on two dates this week.

The first was with a very young man - 25yo. I'll admit that while in theory I see nothing wrong with a moderate age difference, I was hesitant about dating someone who was born in the 80s.

But the date turned out all right. We had good conversation and I was pretty comfortable with him.

Well, I heard back from him yesterday, and while he thinks I'm "sweet" he just didn't feel a connection.

I have to say, I really appreciate this kind of honesty! It's just classy. Too many other guys seem to just "lose her number" (and I'm sure girls are just as guilty of this)

Luckily, I was kind of on the fence about him, too, so it didn't hurt my feelings to be given the brush off.

And then there's the other guy...

The second date was with a guy a year older than me who is very very different from the first. He's a total "guy" - likes sports, is a bit of a button-pusher, totally irreverent. But he makes me laugh.

And we're still talking...

:D

Which leads to the question: What on earth does one do on a SECOND date????

Be vewwy vewwy kwiet...

...We'ah hunting mushwooms!

It's almost mushroom season. I have been mushroom hunting since I was eight years old. Morel mushrooms are a very rich, meaty mushroom that grows all over the US (I even found one once when I was living in Alaska) They resist cultivation so if you want them, you pretty much have to find them.

They tend to pop up in early to mid-May. But we've had some very warm and fairly wet weather recently and I'm hoping to get into the Woods very soon!

I've never gone mushroom hunting here in Illinois, so I don't know the hottest spots. And no true mushroom hunter would tell me unless I were related to him, and probably not even then.

Mushroom hunters are a cagey bunch. They jealously guard their prime spots.

I rememeber once finding a mother lode while hunting with my dad and brother. We found dozens of morels in the center of a dying peach grove. The ground was just covered in them and we filled all of our bags. I found the first one. And then my brother found one and then I found another and then we stopped and took a look at the big picture and realized that the whole ground in this small circle of dying fruit trees was covered in the precious little beauties.

As we were leaving the woods, returning to the car, two men had just parked and were clearly getting ready to hunt for mushrooms themselves. My dad hissed at us to hide our fungal booty and when the two new-comers asked us if we'd had any luck, I opened my mouth to pipe up "YES!" but got an elbow in my ribs from David as a reward.

"Only a couple," my dad lied easily.

And this is not unusual.

And, as an adult, I now understand it completely. Just a picture of a morel makes my heartrate kick up. I don't even care about eating them. I just want to FIND them. You'd think it was easy to spot a tender beigey-pink lovely among the green grass, but you'd be surprised.

I can't wait to get out there!!!!

I don't get it...

So, I generally try to avoid talking politics on my blog, but there's an issue that's really been bothering me lately.

It's the whole torture thing.

What really astounds me is the number of people who see absolutely nothing wrong with it. Nevermind that it violates the Geneva Conventions. Nevermind that it's exactly the sort of thing that we would be up in arms over if some other government did it to our citizens. Nevermind that it is flat out WRONG.

But the icing on the cake, for me, was John McCain, an outspoken critic of torture (having been a victim of it himself) suggesting that we NOT prosecute the people who enabled and even encouraged this shameful practice on American soil by representatives of the American People.

It makes me sick.

Apparently, he thinks we should just say "mea culpa" and move on with no accountability.

Barf.

And Cheney wants to parade the fact that it was apparently "successful" in gathering information. In my opinion, there is no success here. It is a first class FAILURE of everything that America stands for.

I love this country. I love the freedoms and liberties and innovative spirit it was built on. I love everything it stands for. It does NOT stand for torture.

Torture may be the "easy" way, but it is NOT the American way. We're better than this. Or at least, I thought we were.

:(


PS: Angela, I thought we were going to hear about your weirdo date who made fun of you for baking cookies. What kind of guy doesn't like a chick who bakes????

Happy Dance!

So I got called into the Director's office an hour ago. I wasn't too worried because I've been a good little employee lately (though I do harbor secret fears that my Topix addiction may be discovered by the Evil IT Overlords)

I sat down with her and my boss, thinking that we were there to discuss a problem employee or an on-going project that has been perpetually stalled.

But no!

They gave me a promotion!!!!

It's not a lot more money and there will be a several additional (un-fun) responsibilities, but I totally wasn't expecting it!

I am seriuosly touched that they made that effort on my behalf and I even got a little teary.

:D

W T F

I went on a date last night. I was very excited about it because I had spoken to him on the phone several times and each time we had long, fun conversations. We seemed to communicate well.

But the date itself did not turn out quite so well.

He was cute. The conversation was pretty good, but he rarely asked me any questions about me. Instead I got a lot of work stories and learned about him, which was great because I was honestly interested in him. I was willing to put down his apparent lack of interest in my life to sheer nervousness.

He was clearly nervous, but his body language did not give me a lot of hope. He leaned away from me a lot and made no effort to touch me, even causually.

Again, I was willing to put this down to first date nerves.

But then he got a phone call. Politely, he glanced at his phone and then turned it off. Good. But a few minutes later, he excused himself to go to the restroom and was gone for quite a while.

When he came back, he made no secret of the fact that he had returned the call. And here's where things get very odd.

Apparently, a friend of his was down in the city and had gotten into a fight with his girlfriend. During this time, the friend had accidentally locked his keys in his car. So he called my date (who lives in the NW burbs) because apparently my date carries spare keys to his friend's car around with him.

W T F???

To be fair, my date did not ditch me right away. But the date did end relatively soon thereafter.

This really seemed like an "emergency call" to me (and I didn't even know that guys did this!)

But we were already close to the end of the date. It was 9:30 and he could easily have excused himself saying he had to work in the morning. That's exactly why you do first dates during the week.

But I'm simply speechless. And kind of hurt.

I could be wrong. I hope I'm wrong. But it's very very strange.

Ow Ow Ow Ow!

So, I definitely have plantar fasciitis. Which is basically an injury to the tissue along the arch of the foot. It's a killer b/c while it heals overnight, it re-tears with every step you take the next day.

So. My hot podiatrist (seriously, this guy is DREAMY!!!!) told me I can't run (or walk for exercise) for two weeks. Sharon told me it would be better to wait a whole month.

So in the meantime, I'm supposed to stay off of it as much as possible. Which makes my cardio workouts really limited. I can swim (yeah, right!), row (fun, but get's sooooo boooooring after 10 minutes) or bike.

I've been resisting the bike. I don't hate it but it too gets boring after a while. So Sharon's been strong-arming me into taking a spin class.

I finally did this morning. Aside from the trauma of having to hear that horrilbe "Tears on My Guitar" song (which henceforth I had avoided being subjected to) set to a dance/spin beat, it wasn't that bad. I didn't love it, but it wasn't horrible.

But now my tush hurts like hell and for a while there other parts ... girly parts that I am rather attached to .... hurt like hell too.

But I survived. I'm sure I'll never hear the end of it from Sharon. Or Garth.

April Fool?

My dad is my accountant. He's also a complete smartass. I'm not sure why I didn't inherit the smartass gene.

;p

I'm refinancing my mortgage (rates are sooooo low!) and I need my last two years' W2s. Now, I could dig through my own not-very-organized filing system (doesn't everyone just shove stuff in a shopping bag?) or I could call my accountant, aka Dad.

So, obviously, I called my dad.

EEE: Morning, Daddy.
Dad: Good morning, EEE.
(exchange of pleasantries la la la)
EEE: So, I'm refinancing my mortgage and I need my last two years' W2s. Do you still have those on file?
Dad: Yeah right. They've been shredded. April Fool.
EEE: Huh? I'm refinancing. I'm getting below 5%.
Dad: Yeah right.
EEE: Why would I joke?
Dad: Because it's April Fool's Day.
EEE: Dad. Don't you think that if I were going to punk you this morning I'd come up with something better than "I'm doing a refi"???
Dad: You're serious?
EEE: YES!

Only, it took much longer than that to actually convince him. I don't know why...

Though, to be fair, last year my sister and I DID convince our mother that our brother's GF was preggers... Hehehe!

AND we are talking about a man who PROPOSED 40 years ago today. (She turned him down four times b/c she thought he was joking)

Happy Anniversery, Mom and Dad!!!

Footscicle

I injured my foot.

Probably from running.

All my research with Dr. Google seems to indicate Plantar Fasciitis - an injury to the tissue along the arch of the foot.

Sharon also believes it to be consistent with plantar fasciitis. Fun.

She had told me to ice it. For me, this meant wrapping a bag of frozen corn in a towel and standing on it while applying my makeup in the morning. This morning, when Sharon iced it for me, I found that she had other ideas.

She took a gel ice pack - which is about 20° colder than a bag of corn, and made me put my foot directly on it, no towel, no sock, just foot on ice.

For 20 minutes.

TWENTY. MINUTES.

It hurt like HELL!!!!

Twenty minutes (and 5 sets of upper-body strength excersizes) later, she let me move my foot. By then it was totally numb and very cold. It was a footscicle.

Fun.

I'm seeing a podiatrist today. Hopefully he'll just give me a pill or a shot or something...

Smartass

I sometimes forget that my sister is just as much my father's daughter as I am.

For all her overt rebelliousness (she IS the youngest) she is much more straight-laced and traditional than I am. She's clearly our father's daughter in terms of temper (short fuse, anyone?) but I'm always taken off-guard when she channels his irreverent side because usually that's my purview.

Yesterday, she emailed me a picture of the two of us taken at my college graduation when we were both much smaller and much blonder.

"I would give anything to be that size again!" she lamented.

And I, forgetting the Girl Code, emailed her back: "What did you eat for breakfast? Have you worked out lately" which, of course, pissed her off. It was "feel my pain" not "help me"

But a little later she DID tell me what she'd been eating/drinking etc. I noticed right off that it was all processed and lacking in vegetables. So I haraunged her all day to "Eat Some F Ing Veg!!!"

And then, at the end of the day, she emailed me with this gem:

"...you keep mentioning in texts and email something about “veggies”. Is this something new I haven’t heard of before?? I can’t find it on google anywhere…what in the world are you talking about…are you losing your mind??? I’m really confused by this because I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about…"

I was stunned and appalled.

Had she fallen on her head? Was she kidding? What she so immersed in processed foods and trends (Des Moines is the biggest Test Market in the US for a reason: Iowans will try anything) that she had lost all touch with REAL food???

Needless to say, she was totally pulling my chain. And I fell for it. As I always do with our dad.

The Littlest Klepto Strikes Again

When I was home at Christmas I lost the valet key to my car. I'd brought it along just in case (I've been known to lose keys)

I had given the key to my dad when he insisted on filling up my tank (gas is sooper cheap in Iowa so I didn't argue too much) and I remember seeing it on the kitchen counter the day before I left.

The morning I was set to leave, however, I couldn't find it anywhere. We all looked for about 10 minutes and then I shrugged, figuring it was in one of my bags or something and that it would turn up later.

Well it did turn up later. Much later.

Today, in fact.

The E-man, who is 4 years old (nearly 5) is at my parents' house today. Apparently, he came running up to my mother about an hour ago, holding out my key in his chubby little fist.

EMan: Nama! Look what I found in the Pool!

(Note: by "Pool" he means pool table in the basement)

Now, you can NOT tell me that my dad or I "accidentally" dropped that key into the pool table pocket.

Little thief!

He's hella cute, though.

The F Word

Sometimes in order to get things done, you really need to use the F word.

Especially if it's true.

I'm not talking about the naughty F word, I'm talking about the other F word:

FIRE!

My El car caught fire this morning. Not the whole car, just the heating unit behind my seat. We could actually see flames licking up along the door. The first time it happened, the engineer came back and (I thought) turned off the heater.

But then it happened again two stops later.

The woman nearest it said, in a calm, but not very loud voice: "Can someone hit the button? It's happening again."

Now, this is fine, but not all the people on the train were the same ones who'd been there before. Specifically, the guy nearest said button had only just gotten on and had no clue there'd been a fire.

So I had to speak up. I'm a fairly soft-spoken person (stop laughing, it's true!) but I can make my voice carry - with authority - when I need to.

EEE(calling along the length of the train car): SIR! Press the emergency button please! The heater is on FIRE again.

Firm, loud, calm, no panic. Things progressed in an orderly fashion.

I guess I'm not as useless in a (psuedo)emergency as I thought.


So, the day can only get less interesting from here.

Have a great day, all!

Oh! And: HAPPY BIRTHDAY NOVA!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Some people

Sorry I've been away so long. I've been on vacation. I was visiting old friends in Phoenix and in Denver.

My friends in Phoenix I've known since I was 13 and I see them several times a year. I know what to expect with them.

My friends in Denver, though...

We were roommates in grad school and lived and breathed one another for three solid years. Then I moved away (to follow a boy - but that's a whole 'nother story) and we only saw one another sporadically. In fact, it had been a full seven years since I'd seen Steph.

Before I left, I confessed to a friend here that I was worried about seeing Steph. I was worried that she would be disappointed with how lame and dorky I am. That my clothes wouldn't be cool enough, that my life would be too dull.

Silly, I know.

And ultimately: a complete waste of energy. As soon as we saw one another again, it was as if no time at all had passed. We were just: US.

The funniest part? Apparently SHE was having the exact same worries about ME! She had called her mom before I arrived and confessed that she was worried that I would be disappointed in her, that I would think she wasn't accomplished enough, that her life was lame.

But there are just some people in your life who crawl under your skin and into your heart so deeply that no amount of time or distance can ever really extract them. When you meet again, it's as if no time has passed. Disagreements and differences in personality just don't matter.

I'm glad to have so many of those people in my life.

I love you guys....

So I was in a bit of a funk on Friday and I am just astounded by all the warm feelings and support I got from all my "imaginary" friends.

It was just me being mopey and dwelling on old, stoopid stuff but you guys were all so sweet and kind and it really meant a lot to me.

You guys are all totally awesome.

*sniff*

Thanks!

Libra Rising

I'm a Virgo on the Cusp of Libra (as I've mentioned before)

It's nice that I can read whichever horoscope I prefer on any given day, but there is definitely a lot of dicotomy in me. And not just the dicotomy inherent to Libras everywhere.

I have to balance my OCD Virgo side with my lazy Libra side, my hard-ass Virgo side with my empathetic Libra side.

Right now, though, I'm torn between dueling emotions. I got some WONDERFUL news about a friend of mine yesterday! I'm SO HAPPY for him.

But I've also been struggling with the loss of a friendship that was pretty important to me. I'm very ANGRY about this and I especially hate that this person, through the simple act of doing NOTHING, is affecting me so greatly.

I pride myself on being in control of my own life and of my own emotions - which is probably why I've been single so long. But the actions (and inactions) of others do affect me and I hate it.

So I'm teetering on a knife today between extreme happiness for one dear friend and impotent anger at another (I thought) dear friend.

I will, of course, compensate by rambling incoherently to anyone who crosses my path.

So watch out.

PS: To my dear friend: CONGRATULATIONS!!!