Priceless

Immodium AD (that doesn't work) - $6.00

One pair ruined underwear - $0.70

Four loads of laundry to clean blankets and sheets - $8.00

One lost day of vacation - $100.00 +

 

Reading fairy tales to a five year old sitting on a toilet with poop literally pouring from her butt at 5am -

priceless.

I feel resentful today...

…and I haven't figured out why.

Most of it is directed at Twiggy, but if I could say what was really on my mind, almost everyone that crosses my path would feel the sting of barbs flying from my mouth.

Twiggy is a really strong personality and she gets on my nerves regularly. She doesn't answer her phone, walks away from her desk for long spaces of time without telling me anything (and then I get stuck with her phones), does things….

Oh never mind. That certainly is not what's really bothering me.

No, I think the problem is that I went and checked my sister's 'timeline of my case' document and re-read all the lies she wrote about me on it. My emotions say, "Call her and b*tch her out!" My head says, "Why are you reading that nonsense?"

Why AM I reading this stuff? Usually, I check to see if she's updated it. But why? Probably because it's interesting to see what her *real* take is on what's going on. She's so nice to me to my face. She's all sisterly and stuff.

It's good to be reminded that she cannot be trusted. But why should I need that reminder? Facts stare me in the face. I guess I just want so very much to have some kind of relationship with family that I keep thinking they're going to magically change.

Sometimes I feel really possessive of Munchkin. If my dad calls and wants to know how she is, I feel like he's questioning my parental abilities. If my sister asks…same thing. I don't want to "share" her with anyone. This makes no sense; she is not my favorite toy. Perhaps I feel territorial because I feel that she needs protection from these people. I don't know…guess it doesn't matter much.

I just can't wait to leave here and go pick up Munchkin. And go to my meeting tonight. I need to get this off my mind.

FW: 2006 Golf Outing

I hate golf. Why, God, why? To me, the word golf is synonymous with 'boredom', 'barf', 'burn', 'bad', and 'ginormous waste of time'. I don't care if other people like it; good for them. It's not something I'd partake in voluntarily. Mini-golf, though, I enjoy. :o)

Twiggy's vacation being scheduled on the day of the annual golf outing (barf), we had to scramble a bit as to who was going to cover the phones while everyone's gone. Napoleon stubbornly refuses to just hire a temp. Usually, Twiggy and I switch off; I go one year, she goes the next. Gladly. Neither one of us is a golfer and wouldn't be caught dead golfing in our spare time. Do you know how expensive a hobby golfing is?

I used to bring my laptop and watch movies all day. Chatting with Mr. Wrong was also bountiful fun. Much more fun than having the sun sneak a little sunburn onto my skin. I had no idea I was getting burned; it just showed up later.

Oh well, should be fun to watch the sales guys get soused and then see Napoleon sprout gray hairs because he's afraid someone might get a little *too* drunk. If only I could put a link in here to the story of Adminizilla's booze-slicked exit from our department…then you'd understand why. Just search the blog for Adminzilla.

I heard Twiggy telling someone this morning that Napoleon is loading his foursome up with "A" list golfers. He's determined to win. The office golf tournament. We might just be seeing a competitive spirit that is out of control here. Hmmmm...

_____________________________________________

From:   Supervisor
Sent:   Tuesday, August 29, 2006 11:58 AM
To:     Secretary
Cc:     Exec Asst; Twiggy
Subject:        2006 Golf Outing

Secretary, it has been decided that I will stay in the office on Sept 7 during the golf outing.  Please plan on attending the golf outing. 

I appreciate your willingness to stay in years past.  Enjoy the day!

Supervisor

_____________________________________________

From: Secretary
Sent: Tuesday, August 29, 2006 11:59 AM
To: Supervisor
Subject: RE: 2006 Golf Outing

Why do I sense glee at not having to golf? LOL :) Thanks Supervisor

----------------------------------
Secretary
Administrative Assistant, Sales and Marketing

______________________________________________
From:   Supervisor
Sent:   Tuesday, August 29, 2006 12:03 PM
To:     Secretary
Subject:        RE: 2006 Golf Outing

Well…I didn’t want to say it!  But I hope you enjoy the day and plan on playing mini golf in the afternoon if they do that.  It’s great fun and a no-pressure way to spend some fun time with other staff members.

Supervisor

Weekend Recap

Welcome to Monday.

My cube looks the same as it always does...the lone bit of cheerfulness that I see today is my Provence calendar and a couple pictures of Munchkin. There isn't much in the way of work, but I still feel guilty about reading news articles and gossip blogs.

Actually, I need to restate that. There is some work to do but I feel like avoiding it by reading news articles and gossip blogs, thereby supposedly putting off the pain of dealing in minutiae for a while.

Life with Munchkin is one big busy day. I am sort of an anomaly in the working stiff population...I do not like weekends. Sure, I like to sleep in on weekends. That's nice. But I do not like how unstructured they are. Especially with a child to deal with.

Friday night was alright...same old, same old. I remember the distant memories of going to the Friday night fellowship meetings that I used to enjoy so much.

Saturday was good. I slept in. It's nice to have a school-aged child and not one that you absolutely must wake up with. School-aged children usually know better than to spread raisin bran all over the floor, jump off of balconies, crack eggs on the floor because they like scrambled eggs, etc. They will usually come to you and be like, "I'm hungry, can you make me some breakfast?" They'll also come to you and ask you if they can watch TV, which, while absolutely mystifying me as to why she would do that, is also comforting, because then I know what she's doing, even as I try to catch another fitful hour or two of sleep.

On Friday night, I made butternut squash soup. I am fascinated by butternut squash lately. I'm not sure why. This particular recipe calls for six cups of squash and a whopping 16 ounces of cream cheese. Crikey. I used low-fat cream cheese, but the "soup" can now be eaten with a fork, is very rich, and has the texture of cheese, not pureed butternut squash. It's still good soup though. Less cheese next time. Definitely sticks to the ribs...

...and creates great green clouds of gas. Man, I was so bloated and so, ummm, windy on Saturday. It was horrible.

I invited a friend over for dinner with Munchkin and I. He came over and only then did I start planning the meal or fixing the meal. To my credit, I did manage to thaw the pork chops first. We were having Asian Sesame Porkchops. They are delicious. But they call for green onions.

So my friend, whom we'll call BalloonGuy, because he makes balloon animals, comes over. Munchkin adores him right off the bat, probably on account of the balloon animals. I announce that we must go to WalMart and acquire green onions for dinner. We arrive there and I then realize that, hey, I can get some Gas X while we're here!!!

We head off to the pharmacy department. I'm tooting like Thomas the Train Engine.

Behind me I hear a hilarious yet mortifying conversation going on between Munchkin and BalloonGuy.

"I think S tooted. S, did you toot?" Munchkin asks.

"It's rude to ask people if they tooted!!!!"

I think I may have heard sniggering coming from BalloonGuy.

Anyway, dinner proceeds uneventfully. We head down to the fountain downtown and go for a walk. It feels good.

Sunday
Sunday is uneventful as well. Munchkin seems fine.

We go to the Sunday night meeting. I'm a little perturbed (read: pissed) that there's no sitter. Also, no one seems to care that there's no sitter. We start leaving but then a kind soul volunteers to babysit for the first half.

After the meeting, Munchkin is all, "I'm sick."

Thinking about last week's conversation about little kids staying home and watching TV all day, I say, "No you're not. Don't lie."

She keeps insisting, so we head out to the car and I say, "Well, little girls who are sick need to go to bed so they can get well."

We head home and Munchkin does indeed go to bed. She doesn't even change out of her clothes.

Uh oh.

I fix her some tomato soup and toast, and I check on her a little bit later. She didn't eat much soup and only half of her piece of toast.

An hour later, my insistence that she was lying is rewarded with a splashing sound coming from her room and the wafting fragrance of barf. Next up, Munchkin says, "You lied. See? I told the truth."

"Yes, you did, honey. I'm sorry."

We get her cleaned up. I plead with her to be brave because she will have to go to the store with me for children's tylenol and a thermometer, and she weighs 65 pounds so I can't carry her. She decides she can be brave and off we go. I take her temperature and find she is not running a fever. That's a relief. I make her bed with clean linens and she's back in bed in no time flat.

I'm up till midnight doing laundry and wondering if I'll need to buy a new pillow for her because the existing one now has some barf liquid on it. I think I'll probably spring for a new one. She is not my poor relation. She is my much-loved Munchkin, and a pillow is not that expensive.

This morning, she was feeling fine, so off we went to school after a little snit about not wanting to get dressed. It was a bit challenging to get her to dress herself, and she's 65 pounds, so you know I'm not going to be able to force her. I was a little inept this morning, but we did ok.

And that's the weekend folks!!!!

Janet Jackson Just Turned Herself Into a Target

In the linked article, Janet admits that she and her boyfriend, Jermaine Dupri, are both a toy-loving couple and a 'saucy movie-making' couple.

IE "Please break into my house in about six months, steal a saucy homegrown film or two, and sell them on the internet."

"I caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan't!!!!!!!"

My sponsor says that I shouldn't equate whether it's a good day or a bad day with however Munchkin is feeling.

But I can say this morning wasn't as rosy as it usually is.

I heard a lot about being sick. Next, I heard that kids who are sick need to stay home and watch TV. In fact, this little litany started last night when I picked munchkin up from school.

"Auntie S., I have something to tell you."

"Ok, lay it on me."

"Do you know what happens when little kids get sick?"

"No, what?"

"You have to move the TV into their room so they can watch TV until they fall asleep."

"I don't think so. They need to sleep so their bodies can fight off whatever's making them sick."

Sometimes our conversation goes like this, especially on school nights:

A: Can I watch TV?
B: No. Let's do something else instead.
C: Can I play on the computer?
D: No.
E: I want to go to my Mommy's.

At Mommy's, she can play on the computer and watch TV all she wants. Munchkin makes the rules. Occasionally, she has to pay heed to her lackey, aka her mother, but most of the time, Munchkin's running the show.

It's like Munchkin is addicted to watching TV. I hear a lot about, "You're going to make me miss my show!"

This reminds of her mom.

"You do realize that visits are going to resume Friday night, right?"

"No, I didn't. Thanks for telling me." Then, "Shit! Deep Space Nine is on on Fridays! Oh, but she'll probably be gone by the time it comes on, right?"

Next up, I had to ask Sister to stop calling me. "I don't want to communicate with you in any way that I can't document, because you have told lies about me in the past. You're way more manipulative than I ever dreamed."

"Oh, ok. Well, I just was calling about ABC..."

"I don't care. You've posted all this crap about me all over the internet. You've told outright lies about me. I haven't done that to you. Everything I've done has been based on facts. You know...you really like being a victim, don't you? Like to have people feeling sorry for ya?"

Silence.

"I'm not much better. I like it too."

"I have this big smile on my face."

"Why's that?"

"Because you said you like it too."

"Yeah, but you have to grow out of it, Sister."

I really shouldn't have said all that. I bought right into the drama. But the important thing is that she won't be calling me anymore.

No, I Didn't Make It Up

Good Lord. Flirting in traffic? Organized flirting in traffic? With note cards at the ready with your contact info?

And they say cell phones are distracting.

I'm Not the Only One Who Thinks the Bridge is Stupid

See? That money is needed elsewhere.

While I'm at it, let me just say that Garry Gernandt is a great city councilman. I used to live in the Deer Park neighborhood, and he really helped lead the charge to get our local park cleaned up and revamped into something the neighborhood could actually use. Anyway, that's a story unto itself, but the point remains.

Why are we building that bridge when we can't even take care of our neighborhoods? I'm sure there's some logical explanation, but I just fail to see it.

Your Misery No Longer Makes Me Happy...Unless You're My Ex :o)

What a lovely day it is today.

We left the house early today. Because of a nasty accident, I still didn't get rock star parking. But I did get to sit in the car with Munchkin and point out the news crew and the reporter and everything. I love watching her look at everything like it's the neatest thing she's ever seen. We have interesting car conversations.

"Auntie S., are you going to get a new boyfriend?"

I laughed. "No, I don't want a new boyfriend right now. Right now I just want to take care of you. That's what I'm focusing on." This was probably the wrong thing to say. Does a kid want to be in charge? No. "Besides, boyfriends are like dogs. You gotta feed em, pay attention to em, play with em, and it's just a lot of work. I don't need a man." Great, now I sound like the bitter adoptive single mom that we met at Wal-mart on Tuesday night.

I got to work and the day started out with Supervisor reminding me to distribute some worthless leads. No biggy -- I need stop putting those off, no matter how stupid I might think they are. I should be thanking my lucky stars that she's so gentle.

A friend of mine stopped by. She had gastric bypass surgery a couple of years ago and she looks fab. She's even had the requisite tummy tuck. She was always a beautiful person. Now her outsides more closely match her insides.

When she stopped in my cube this morning, I noticed something different about her. I couldn't really figure it out at first and then I realized what it was. She is regaining her weight.

A year ago, I'd have thought, "Ha hahah, seeeee?" and then I'd have felt better about my own weight problem because now I'm not the only person around here who had trouble with my weight, even after surgery.

But that's not what I felt this morning. I felt sad. I actually empathized with her. She went through a lot in order to embark on this new life, and now she might have her hopes dashed. I'd like to reach out to her but I don't quite know how. I don't want to look like I'm 'recruiting' for OA, but I can see that it might benefit her.

I'm not sure what to do, but I think if I am patient and if I am meant to help her, the solution will present itself. It can't be a thing coming from me. It has to come from the heart and that means it has to come from my higher power.

What Have I Done?

OH dear.

Compared to most people at ABC Nuts & Bolts, I have a really nice cube. It's decorated with a pleasant creamy-beige color and the flippers have this cool leaf thing going on. I have a little memo board and a truly lovely cube. Part of my cube actually has this cool glass wall thingy. It's neat.

Most people have horrendous cubes. Poor Darling Niki has a cube from the 80's that has a purple flipper and grey walls, with a grey counter as well. No glass thingy. I do covet her whiteboard, however.

My 5.5' walls allow me to have the illusion of privacy. They also allow me to get ignored when people walk by on their way to their offices.

This morning, having had enough of being ignored, I whined to my supervisor about how I'm tired of people doing this:

I hope you can see that. They come from the elevator lobby, say a nice "Good morning!" to Twiggy, then continue on their way with not a word to me. I figure it's because they don't see me, as I'm hidden in this cube cave.

So, this morning, I whined to Supervisor that I was tired of that happening and thought that if we changed my cube

from this

to this,

then it would be easier for people to say good morning and I'd be less isolated and more approachable. She thought that was a great idea and immediately put in a work order.

But, man, what a mistake I've made. Have you ever heard of ANYONE in an office wanting LESS privacy?

How will I slack? How will I post in my blog? How will I fart in peace?

How will I play Solitaire on my Palm Pilot when I've got nothing to do? What about reading blogs? Mimi's often has these weird stripper pictures in it. How will I keep track of which Greek Paris is screwing now?

Oh dear.

Indomitable Spirit

That's what this New Orleans homeowner has. It's almost like he just looks at the projects in his home to rebuild after the flooding of Katrina as home improvement projects. Like you or I would look at painting the walls or putting in replacement windows.

How inspiring. :)

Awful Plastic Surgery.com...

...is awful.

They claim that all these celebrities have had plastic surgery, yet their before and after photos are easily explainable most of the time. On their front page right now, Christie Brinkley is the only one who really looks like she's had work done that was potentially awful. The rest of the before and after photos are pretty much easily explainable...bad lighting, aging, or makeup and hair changes.

I do have to admit that Paris Hilton's nose looks like a ski jump, though.

A Weepy Mess...

My apartment looks pink with the light from that new pendant lamp that I got at Target when I was there looking for sheets for Niece. The doilies that I got at the Goodwill look pretty. I put one on my TV. That was a lucky find. I usually don't find doilies that are any good at the Goodwill; usually just pilled yellow, orange, and brown afgans. Or electric blue and white. Yuck. Or gray, but used to be white. Nasty.

 

Anyway, my fifth step ended up stopping in the middle on Saturday because we ran out of time. And apparently, this is not good, because it leaves you pretty emotional.

 

I discovered this tonight as I sat in my pink-tinged living room. I was crying alll over the place. Poor Darling Niki had to listen to quite a lot of the caterwauling. I feel kinda bad for her. But nevertheless, I'm endlessly thankful for her kind ear.

 

I also recently discovered that crying is good. Yes, I'm serious, that really is a discovery for me. I thought that when you were in pain, you swallowed your tears and your feelings, literally. In the form of Ben n Jerry's. Now I'm discovering that crying or doing whatever it is that God designed for us to do with pain works much better than any substance.

 

And now that I've just about let go of everything in my tear ducts, I'm a little tired. Too bad laundry isn't done yet, or I'd be hitting the sack for sure. Night night y'all.

These Two Pieces of Eye Candy are Engaged..

...and expecting.

Yippy skippy. I'm happy for them I guess. But considering how likely it is that they're going to divorce within three to five years, I would be very careful about publicly saying "It's forever." Whenever I read the words, 'forever' or 'commitment' or anything akin being uttered by a celebrity in relation to their loved one, I typically roll my eyes and think, "Maybe I should keep track of how much times passes between their utterance of that word and their divorce."

Awwwwww...that's so sweet!!!!!

Apparently, Heidi Klum and Seal want to have a herd of children. That's so sweet. They seem pretty happy together. Hopefully, it'll stay that way.

Foster Irritations

Niece is happily playing in her room. I have put all her clothes away, and found that we definitely need a bookshelf and a large bin for her toys. Storage is the word of the day.

 

I went through her clothes, and that's where the post's title comes from. These people had spent almost no money whatsoever on clothes for Niece. Many of the clothes that she had were things that *I* had bought for her. Almost none of the clothes that she came with fit. The clothes that did fit were so raggedy, it wasn't even funny. It appeared that no one had bought her any new socks or underwear. All her panties were ones that I bought her and they were size four. Niece is a size seven or eight! No wonder they were so tight!

 

Then I went through her jackets. I couldn't tell by looking at them whether they fit, so I had her try one on. It was too tight.

 

"But it fits!" She sounded desperate for that jacket to fit. What the hell?

 

"No, it doesn't. It's too tight."

 

"That's because I have a lot of fat."

 

"What the FUCK? Who the FUCK told you that shit?" Actually, something a little tamer came out. That's just what I was thinking.

 

"What? Who told you that?" I tried to sound mild.

 

"Fostersister."

 

"You are not too fat. You are exactly the way that God made you, and exactly the way you're supposed to be. If clothes are too tight, it's because we need to give them away and buy new ones for you, not because you're fat."

 

"But you're big too. You're fat."

 

"Yes I am. That's the way God made me and that's exactly the way I'm supposed to be today."

 

At this point, I'm seething, but I am not showing it to Niece. She may be a little chubby, but so fuckin what? She's five years old, for Christ sake!

 

This plainly bothers me way more than it bothers Niece. Yes, kids used to make fun of me when I was young, and yes, I feel very protective of Niece.

 

I thought that that fostersister had kind of taken Niece under her wing. But now Niece is saying that she had told her that she was fat, and that she called her names. Now, Niece could be making this stuff up, so I tried to be neutral. I just said I was sorry that that happened and gave her a hug.

 

She loves her new bed and her new room. I'm happy about that. Now we're off to shop for posters and some other items. Fun :)

By the Way

Here's the finished dresser. Click on the post title to see the before picture.

Moving Day

 

I finished Niece's dresser. It's now standing in her room.

 

Yesterday a friend from work who had a spare bed brought it over for Niece. It's far superior to the one that I had been given. He also brought about three or four bags of really nice clothes for Niece that his daughter was no longer using. Let's hope she actually fits into them.

 

His daughter came with him. She's nine. She brought her favorite Barbie doll to give to Niece.

 

I vaccuumed the floor in Niece's room and washed some fingerprints off the walls. Her bed is all set up and made, and I got a dresser scarf to put on top of the freshly painted dresser. It looks really nice. Now we just need the munchkin.

 

I'm going to pick her up in about 30 minutes. We'll get her settled in and then we'll probably do some laundry.

 

And that's how one's life turns on a dime. Very simply...with a little bit furniture, kindness, some tidying, and love.

 

Wish me luck.

Pancakes and Program

It's a nice day out today. My apartment smells like pancakes. Burnt pancakes. Pancakes aren't my forte. And that Wal-Mart syrup sucked. Absolutely took the joy out of eating pancakes. The butter didn't melt right either. How strange is this...expecting perfection out of pancakes. Wait...stranger still...having expectations of pancakes at all.

Ah, the insanity.

We started step five yesterday (that's where you read step four, your moral inventory).

Step Five: Admitted to ourselves, God, and another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.

Fun. Not. I had shared with MFD on Friday that I was going through a life-changing spiritual experience on Saturday. She asked what that experience was, exactly. So I shared with her that I'm in OA, and that I'm doing step five, where we share our moral inventory with another human being. We briefly talked about some of the other steps.

"Next up are character defects. Then we ask God to remove the character defects in step seven."

"Wow, talk about tearing a person down and then building them back up again." I guess that's exactly what it is. When you go through so many of the things that you did wrong, so many of the resentments you have, and you go through them one by one with someone who's sane, you get a pretty good idea of how you've messed yourself up.

I was a child of an abusive, neglectful home. I'm learning to stop wearing that like a badge. I'm learning to relate to that differently. I'm learning stop defining myself by my past, to stop thinking of myself as a perpetual victim.

And I learned during step five that many of the survival skills that I developed in order to get through day to day life in a place like that have now turned into liabilities as an adult. They've turned into arrogance, judging, and a few other things, but we weren't quite finished when I had to go meet the guy who was bringing Niece's bed.

When your parents' moods are pretty unpredictable, you learn how to work people so that you can avoid setting them off. You learn to manipulate in order to get your needs met, since your parents aren't doing their job willingly. You learn to lie in order to avoid confrontation.

That skillset might help you get through being a helpless kid whose world is out of control, but it doesn't promote a healthy, successful life as an adult. It pretty much promotes isolation. It promotes low self esteem and a personality that's difficult for others to stand.

I'm grateful that these things are being brought to my attention. I do want to be different. I want to change and be someone that can give and receive love. And I'm not talking about romance or any of that. I'm talking about friendships. Close, loving friendships. That's where one really has to start. I'm talking about being able to accept my family as they are and stop expecting them to magically transform into healthy people that will love me unconditionally. They are who they are, and trying to control that is not a job that I can or should do or try to do.

But for today, I only have to worry about one or two things. Actually, I needn't worry. God will take care of them.

All About Feet

A friend of mine in OA invited me over to have dinner and watch a movie with her tonight. How fun and how unexpected. :)

So we went and had dinner tonight at Golden Corral. I do not belong in a buffet, but hey, I was out with an OA matriarch, so it was all cool. She suggested that I have a plan before I go, so I formed a loose one, and things went alright.

Then we were off to her house to watch a movie. But first we watched South Park for a while. I love South Park. I'm a little new to the game though; it's only recently that I've actually watched any South Park shows.

Now here's where the creepy part comes in. My friend and her husband get along really well. They still dig eachother...a lot. It's awesome.

What was creepy was that I went potty, and when I came out of the potty, she was giving him a foot rub in the living room. Hmmm...one thing that might be creepy about this post is that I, a 29 year old woman, just referred to going to the bathroom as 'going potty'.

But, wait, there's more.

He was soon moaning a little bit as she rubbed his feet.

Wait, there's more.

Her breathing started to change a little bit. I was afraid to look.

Perhaps I'm uncomfortable because of the simple fact that, while you might see my mom running around naked or half naked searching frantically for a bra or something when I was a kid, you never saw them actually touching eachother very sensually. I'm not used to being around a couple that really digs eachother.

Pretty soon it was movie time and off he went to wherever he goes. Thank God. No more foot rubbing.

Which reminds me -- Apparently, I'm still under orders to tell my feet that I love them and take care of them and stuff. This was brought on by a lot of whining about how much I hate my feet. I had stopped doing it because I was wearing shoes that were comfy and my feet didn't bother me, but then my sponsor caught on about the foot thing and was like, "So you just decided to give yourself permission to stop the assignment?"

"Well, my feet aren't bothering me anymore."

Silence.

"I guess this means I have to go back to telling my feet I love them."

"Yeah."

"Ok."

The "Oh-My-God, They've Learned PR" Factor

When I read this article, I had two thoughts:

1. K-Fed is a man of few words. And he likes to use them over and over again.
2. Someone's been giving K-Fed some PR lessons.
3. Maybe they are happy. Hey, that might be cool. K-Fed doesn't seem that bad.

See? The PR lessons are working...

Warrantless Wiretaps Halted by Court

Sometimes you gotta be thankful for the ACLU.

Still, I can't help but think that terrorists may have it a smidgeon easier.

But I also think that the government may have gone too far to try and keep us 'safe'...and after 9/11, we were cool with it. Now the societal pendulum has swung the other way. One role of the courts is to protect us from the backward and forward swing of the societal pendulum. And I guess they did their job today.

Cross Racial Adoption is Growing

I think this is great. Multiracial adoptive families may face challenges, but so do mono-racial familites. The challenges are just different. True, there may be additional ones, but nonetheless, love and commitment go a long way toward overcoming those challenges. :o)

Tom Cruise Rescues/Helps Lots of People

Where would we be without Super-Tom? See what I mean about that guy?

It's not Nebraska! Yay!

Nebraska is not the fattest state. :)

Mississippi is.

I seem to remember recently having seen that James Franco movie, Annapolis. In the film, one of the characters tells Franco's character not to quit because he's his Mississippi.

"I'm Mississippi?"

"Yeah. See, Arkansas is the worst state in America, but Mississippi's right next to it, always doing something wrong, and keeping people from really noticing Arkansas. I'm Arkansas, and you're Mississippi."

That's paraphrased of course. :)

Positive Quote

If you have made mistakes...there is always another chance for you...you may have a fresh start any moment you choose, for this thing we call "failure" is not the falling down, but the staying down.

-- Mary Pickford (1893-1979) Canadian Actress

Hey Ma, We Made the National News!

Oh yay. I'm so glad we're getting such good press.

Yes, I know I have bigger fish to fry...

...but the split between Kate Hudson and Chris whats-his-face caught me off guard. Even the gossip blogs didn't see that one coming, and they usually have the dirt on this stuff long before announcements are made. That's really too bad.

BM Tales

Last Wednesday or something, I was out to dinner with my dad, and the conversation was a little slow. We were both silently contemplating the tabletop, when all of a sudden, a glorious topic occurred to my father.

"You would not believe the BM I had today. It was huge. Man it felt good." What in the five hells? I was aghast.

Some of you may not be aware of the significance of the initials B.M. Well, it's not the lovechild named Bernice of a starcrossed union between two folks surnamed Matthews, I can tell you that. No...BM stands for bowel movement. Another singular-syllabic word for that is 'crap'. Or 'shit'. Depends on your choice of profanity. Some prefer poop. I like the short-voweled (hey that rhymes with bowel!) sound of the word 'crap'. It sounds even funnier when you add a South Dakota or Minnesota accent. CRAP. See what I mean?

"DAD! Whoa...I do NOT want to hear about your BMs! Helloooo, we're at the dinner table! In public, no less!" This is about as bad as Niece exclaiming, "hey everyone look at my boobies!!" and then lifting up her shirt at Village Inn.

"Oh, sorry about that."

"It's ok, Dad."

And my dad's voice carries, let me tell you. Anyway, I tried to change the subject.

"What do you think of the Israeli - Lebanese war?"

"Oh well, Lebanon shoulda cleaned up Hezbollah and not let them run the south."

Silence drops again and there's no food to concentrate on. I'm thinking about topics again, when my Dad decides to come up with his own.

"Did I tell you about the tremendous BM I had today? I was in the bathroom for a long time!"

Oh dear. The wages of a stroke...Dad has forgotten our previous dialogue about his waste products.

"DAD! Stop with the bowel movements already!!!" I'm not shouting this at my forgetful father, mind you. I think at that point, my voice was filled with a feeling of horror mixed with laughter. So I was probably doing something more like a hiss/chuckle.

Wash and repeat. "Oh, sorry about that. I forgot."

"No problem Dad." I was laughing when I said it. I didn't want to make him feel ashamed, I just thought it was funny. He was kinda chuckling too.

I found it pretty surreal that I was sitting with my dad listening to him talk about his bowel movements. I mean, that is such a cliche, isn't it? You know...the cliche about elderly people being obsessed with their poop? Yeah, that one. I felt like I was in a TV show.

Getting Married Helps Depression

Holy bajolies, just the opposite of what I'd expect. LOL. Where do I sign up?

We Need This Like a Hole in the Head

Click the post title for the article.

I'm so glad we're building a pedestrian bridge so Omahans can walk to the fucking casinos and gamble their dollars away. Thanks to the Lord for this multi-million dollar monstrosity!

That's exactly what we need, while the people who take care of our foster children remain underfunded and underpaid. Mhmmm... Thanks, City Fathers!

What the fuck is up with government these days? I'm so glad my tax dollars are going to pay for this absolutely superfluous CRAP.

I Call Bullshit

Do you know how many stories are out there about Tom Cruise *helping* people, rescuing people, doing all sorts of altruistic things, and they just *happen* to get reported to the press? Ummm, there's a lot, and they all seem a little fabricated. There was a story about it in a gossip blog somewhere and I can't remember which one. Probably A Socialite's Life. Hmm, I'll have to research. But I just smell some BS here. Counterracting negative publicity about Tom's recent falling-out with Paramount. That guy needs to make an art house flick or something in order to redeem himself.

Tom and Katie Comfort Accident Victims

SUNDAY AUGUST 13, 2006 09:10PM EST

Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes helped comfort a pair of shaken accident victims Saturday night, PEOPLE has learned.

A rep for the couple confirms that Cruise, 44, and Holmes, 27, were on their way home from the airport after a trip to Salt Lake City, Utah, for an exhibition soccer game (their friend David Beckham and his team, Real Madrid, beat Real Salt Lake 2-0), when they saw a couple on L.A.'s 101 Freeway who had apparently just been in a car accident.

The engaged pair and parents to 4-month-old daughter Suri checked to make sure the passengers, Jon Henningsen and his wife, were not seriously injured, then waited with them until the police and fire department arrived on the scene.

Help me Jesus! Help me Tom Cruise!

God I love that line. Thanks Will Farrell. You have my undying admiration.

 

I saw mommy dearest today. Yeah, my mother. She was in a good mood. We went junk shopping. I talked to her about the possibility of me adopting a child someday...no, not necessarily Niece. I find that when we talk around the white elephant in the room, all goes well and I can just be her daughter and she can just be my mom.

 

I just think it would be cool to adopt a child out of foster care, of any ethnicity or race. Who cares? All children need love and stability. But that's not all they need.

 

Mom said, "Why do you want to do that?"

 

"Because I'd like to have a family."

 

"I just think you need to have more than that going for you."

 

"Like what?"

 

"Well, your situation might change in the future and that might cause problems."

 

"You mean like I might marry someone and have my own child?"

 

"Yeah...but not just that...you have to want to dedicate yourself to taking care of someone else for a long time. You have to want to give of yourself. You can't be selfish." Sometimes my mom does have wisdom to impart.

 

She didn't mean them to, but her words brought up many feelings of selfishness for me. I remembered back to last November, when I gave Niece up to the foster care system. What did that do to her? I don't know. But it felt like it was totally against my grain at the time. I question that decision often, and feel that it was rather a selfish decision. It had its merits, but there were also some things wrong with it. I can't change it now, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't like to.

 

So I now just question my decision to adopt Niece should she become available for adoption. Is that what I really want? Is that what's really best for Niece? Am I being selfish about this? Sometimes I just pray and pray for this cup to pass from me. Sometimes I sit and think about how rewarding raising her will be, about how cool it will be to see her grow and mature, and how good it'll feel to teach her things, encourage her to achieve, and most of all, to see my family's cycle of addiction, abuse, neglect, and poverty broken.

 

Those are pretty high hopes. Sometimes I forget not to allow myself to hope so much. It is my experience that high hopes are typically dashed and turned into resentment, sadness, disappointment, and, ultimately, depression. A simpler way to say that would be to utter, "Life's a bitch," and move on.

 

 

Today was kinda productive, I suppose. My food wasn't too disciplined, though. I was up till 5am last night/this morning and ended up spending some of that time eating metered out bits of food...a hamburger bun there, a hot dog here. Not five buns or five hot dogs, but still, it was food that I didn't need and my body hadn't asked for. Therefore, it was not gentle or loving. Then tonight, I made another food faux pas.

 

None of these are abstinence-breakers, but they're not loving or gentle. It is just very easy to fall back into comfortable old patterns. I can count my progress if I want, I can claim that if I want to, but I should not spend so much time counting and claiming the good things that I don't learn from the mistakes. Nor do I need to beat myself up about my mistakes. Just need to learn from them. My lesson today is don't stay up until 5am; if you do, spend some time journalling so you can keep your head straight.

 

Alrighty, lessons learned. On we go to Monday and the appointment with Niece's counsellor.

Even More Exhausted...and Now Hallucinating...

I'm so tired today. I am so beat. I am so exhausted. I feel like I've been up for 24 hours...blah blah blah, you get the picture.

Can I have ONE day that has energy, people?

FINE.

I must have had more anxiety over that homestudy than I thought. Because last night I had trouble sleeping. And then I had a hallucination where I saw a white misty thing in my room! Whoa! I blinked and rubbed my eyes and then it went away, but I slept with the light on. I was shaking. It was freaky.

I know. I'm pathetic. I'm 29 and I'm sleeping with the lights on...again.

SOOOOOOOOOOOO...

....this morning I had a super dooper client visit to prep for and this client visit was scheduled to start at 8:30. That means that I needed to be here at 7:30 (my customary wake up time), and that meant that I had to get up at 6:30. SOOO that little hallucination wasn't too helpful.

Another thing that wasn't helpful was getting here bright and early and then finding out that guess what? The client won't be here until 11:00.

So glad I got up at the crack of dawn for nothing. Damnit.

Which reminds me...I need to go downstairs and prep for their imminent arrival. Next time I have trouble sleeping, I'm just going to take some unisom instead of trying to tough it out.

Oh Dear...

Lindsay Lohan's security guard is an idiot. As if anyone's going to give her a weapon, let alone let her wander unprotected. She is so stupid.

Exhausted

I'm pretty exhausted by last night's events and the fact that I didn't get to bed until oh-dark-thirty.

So during lunch today, I went home and took a nap. I overslept by about 15 minutes and was back here by 1:30. The trouble is, I think I may have gone to lunch earlier than I thought I did. God, I'm so out of it.

When I got back, I got the dirtiest Twiggy look yet. And, worse, it was apparent that she had not gone to lunch. The little martyr had just gotten something downstairs and eaten at her desk. Woe is her. She could've gotten Supervisor or the new EA to cover the phones for her, but she'd rather be a martyr. Well, at least I'm not the only person who thinks the world revolves around her.

Anyway, upon my return she got up and starting wandering around the office. She's been wandering the office for about 30 minutes. I have no idea where she went, but I'm starving, so I hope she gets back here soon. More than likely, if Supervisor's here, then she's at Supervisor's desk, moaning and groaning. Ugh, why didn't I keep better track of what time I left for lunch?

Oh well. The world's not going to end because I was late from lunch. And even if Supervisor decides to ask me about it, the world still won't end. At least I have a good parking space. That makes life better. I have the good parking space because Twiggy the Martyr's car is being worked on, so she has no need of VP Redhead's space today. :o) It's the simple things that make you perk up, isn't it? :)

Nervous

God I am so nervous today. I have the adoptive homestudy tonight and tomorrow night at 7pm. I'm so tired, I wish I could cancel it and just go home and sleep.

Dad had to go the ER last night -- he's got pneumonia again. Just great. I don't even want to know how much this ER trip will cost. We walked out of the ER to go home and he didn't go two steps before fishing out his pack of cigarettes and lighting up. He was really jonesing for a cigarette while in the ER. Those stupid things are going to be the death of him.

Additionally, Niece's counsellor called and I guess now I'm going to have to meet with her on Monday to talk about Niece because 'there's a lot going on with her'. Mum was the word though, it seemed. She didn't say much. Of course, the world revolves around me, so I think that she must think I'm guilty of something. Of course, that can't really be true because I don't see her enough to be guilty of anything.

Perhaps I shouldn't have taken Niece to dinner with my mom and dad. She kept doing stuff in the backseat, and my dad gave her a couple small slaps on her leg or something. She wasn't hurt by any means, but it had a strong feel of inappropriateness. I feel guilty about it - like it was my fault because we were hanging around my parents, which the counsellor may view as a mistake. Overall, things went well Saturday night, but there were a couple of bumps in the road.

I think I need to talk to the counsellor pretty urgently. I am going to move the home study to tomorrow night and go see the counsellor tonight. I want to know what's up and it seems pretty urgent if she wants to see me in person. Initially, she wanted to see me tonight. She's not usually like that.

Sodas Pile on Pounds? No Way Man!

We really needed a study to tell us that drinks that are about 150 calories a serving, when consumed in quantity, will make us fat? Please...I lost 20 pounds when I switched to diet soda.

That's like saying we need a study to tell us that if we eat tons of ice cream, we may run a slight risk of becoming obese. Just a slight one.

Or that if we eat McDonald's for all three meals a day, we may possibly see some weight gain. Perhaps.

Or if we ingest 20,000 calories per day by injection, it is possible, however unlikely, that we might look a little like we're wearing a sausage casing next time we try on our bathing suits.

Crikey.

A $1.5 Million Bed

Wow, and you know *someone* will be willing to pay $1.5 million for a bed, too. I wonder if it's bouncy.

Movie Review: Wedding Crashers

Yeah, I know this movie's out on DVD now, so are most of the movies I comment on, lol, but it's my blog and I can do what I want to.

This movie was hilarious. I didn't really think it was going to be that good when it was out in the theaters, hence why I didn't go see it.

I don't really have anything philosphical to say about this one. It was good and it was funny. I like Vince Vaughn. Owen Wilson's usually good too. If you can avoid getting distracted by the nose, you should be good to go.

I think I need to go to bed now. My writing seems to be getting worse and worse.

Movie Review: Hustle and Flow

I can see why this movie was such a huge hit. I liked it. Terence Howard is a good looking black man.

Anyway, the protagonist may have been a pimp, but he was probably the gentlest pimp I've ever seen portrayed in a movie. It's like he was different from his surroundings and that's what made him likeable, even though he used one of his women in exchange for a microphone. That was probably the least likeable part of the film.

Another part that I thought wasn't too likeable was when he put one of the women out and put her, oh, nine-month-old baby out with her. I mean, it's not like he could keep the baby in the house but throw the trash-talking mother out, but it was just hard for me to watch.

I wish I had better words for this film. I can't relate to that kind of life....but I can relate to the fact that inside, people aren't really that different, no matter what their social or economic strata. This guy had an innate desire to better himself, one way or another, and he had the gumption to go for it. Not that much different than someone who sacrifices and works hard to go to college. He used the available resources. Even though pimping women is repugnant.

Anyway, it's a compelling film. You do root for the guy, and it's entertaining at the same time. There's lots of good acting too.

Are Antidepressants Addicting?

Yep. Definitely.

I can only speak from my own experience though. I was on Prozac for five years and Mr. Nasty convinced me to stop taking it. This was an instance where he was right.

So I tapered off the stuff, and soon found myself having incredible mood swings. I felt really sorry for the poor guy. But at least I was no longer a zombie. Prozac had evened me out a little too much, it seemed. I couldn't just giggle at stuff or just laugh at stuff. I wasn't really crying much either, even when crying was appropriate. And talking? Yeah...not really. I wasn't much of a discussion partner. I noticed a huge improvement in these areas once I got over the withdrawal symptoms.

Bottom line -- I'm happy to be off of anti-depressants. And I find it ironic that when my Program is good, life is good. When my program isn't good, life isn't good, and that's when I find myself wishing for a happy pill. :)

An OA Fairy Tale

I lied. No fairies in this one. That grandma looks a bit like Baba Yaga though.

Does anyone want to guess where I acquired this book at?

Well, everyone loves multiple choice tests, so let's go that route.

A) Barnes and Noble
B) Borders
C) Pageturners Used Books
D) A crack dealer...also known as a bakery.
E) A member of OA with 22 years of abstinence from what? Sugar.

*insert Jeopardy music here*

dum dum dum dum dum dum dum......

It's E. Yes, it's E. A dear friend of mine gave me this book. :o)

Here's a passage from the book:

I know an old lady...
...who swallowed a pie,
a Thanksgiving pie,
which was really too dry.

Then in smaller letters under that.

"Perhaps she'll die."

This old lady goes on a Thanksgiving rampage, progressively eating more and more food, culminating with an entire turkey. And after each thing she swallows whole, what do you suppose the refrain is?

"Perhaps she'll die."

I'm in the middle of reading this book and Niece goes, "This book isn't very good."

"Alright honey, time for bed. Try not to have any frequent-mention-of-death nightmares. Kiss kiss hug hug."

Check out some more pages from the book.

Someone looks excited about their birthday cake.

Oh shit, it's Granny!

Girl, any compulsive overeater coulda told you that you shoulda dove right into that shit before anyone else got a piece. You snooze, you lose.

This book is a classic.

Midnight Projects

Niece is not goth by any means. First off, she's five. This would preclude her being goth.

However, the furniture that a certain kind soul gave us free of charge would seem to indicate that she is, as it's 99% black.

That doesn't really compute with my idea of what a little girl's bedroom should look like, so it's time forrrrrrrrrrrr....

A Midnight Project!

What is our project this weekend?

*

Why, it's painting Niece's glossy black dresser white. I have been told that this would take too much time and effort, therefore I HAD to do it.

*

So how do you paint a glossy black dresser white? First you spend about $40 at the hardware store. That'll cover your vinyl gloves, paint, primer, paintbrush, drop cloth (unless you have a garage or easy access to the outdoors. I live in a third floor apartment.), sand paper, mint gum, and I forget what else.

*

Then you wait for the five year old to go to bed after you read her, "I Know a Lady Who Ate a Whole Pie", an OA fairy tale. More on that later.

*

Next, you turn on Saturday Night Live, lay out your drop cloth where you can still see and hear the TV, and start sanding away. You're just roughing it up, so don't go overboard. Discover that your glossy black dresser was at one point green (are you shittin' me?) and feel buoyed by the knowledge that you're not the first person to paint this monstrosity.

*

Everything's sanded and now you have toxic black dust all over yourself. Now you can prime the dresser. Use Kilz spray primer. The fumes are negligible. No, I'm not high. I'm just very happy.

*

Finish off the drawers and then run out of Kilz.

*

Curse yourself for not listening to the incredibly pretty, girly hardware girl and buying an extra can. Shit! Well, how were you supposed to know that she actually knew what she was talking about? Don't judge a book by its cover, you say? Did I hear you correctly? Don't sass me motherfucker! Go to somebody else's blog!

*

Just kidding about that. :o) Wink wink.

*

That's all for tonight folks. Should be interesting to see what we get done tomorrow night when we finish priming and then actually paint.

*

My end goal is to finish painting this thingy and then replace the knobs with glass ones so it'll look way more girly. :o) I always dreamed of having a girly bedroom when I was a kid, and so I think'll it be cool to give that gift to Niece. Hopefully, she won't suddently discover that she's a total tomboy and start demanding borders with cars and trucks.

*

Hmmm...why do I have this feeling that I'm getting way more benefit out of this project than Niece is? :o)

When You're 74 and Your Life is Full of Regrets...

...I guess you cuddle up to whiskey at night.

My dad and I had dinner together tonight. He's the only member of my family that doesn't hate me or simply wish to maim me. Maybe, at the cusp of 75, and after having suffered a stroke, he knows how important family is. Or maybe he remembers that it was me who came down to that homeless shelter to check on him. I don't know. Who cares? He's all I have in this city in the way of blood family, so I'll take it.

We've agreed, or, rather, I've told him, that I don't want to talk about 'the case' with him. I just want to know that my dad wants to see me because he wants to see ME, not the easiest source of information about the case. Even without the case, we have plenty to talk about.

My dad may be slowing down with age, but he's still pretty sharp. He forgets things sometimes but if you ask him about Israel and Lebanon, he'll tell you that Israel's cleaning house and more power to 'em.

Tonight we were talking about my family, but not about the case. We were talking about why my sister is the way she is, and what would solve the problem. Of course, nothing would. But I think we're the only people that we have available to vent to who've been there and know what we're talking about.

Every time we've ever talked about my sister and us growing up and what went wrong, my dad always says the same thing, "I should've been there. Maybe if I'd have been there, things would have been different." When I'm feeling charitable and circumspect, I tell him he did the best he could with what he had at the time. It's true, but I don't know that I've accepted it. Tonight, I could say it without accepting it. Maybe my dad's shoulders aren't sagging just because he's lost muscle tone. Maybe they're sagging and he's stooping under the weight of a million regrets. I'm thankful that today, my anger over my life doesn't have me enslaved. I'm glad that I can be in a moment and feel sympathy for someone in pain rather than live in the past.

I made mistakes while parenting my niece, plenty of them. I made mistakes just living my life and my regrets are sometimes so heavy, I can hardly stand up straight. Or maybe that's my back lol...but I sure do have a lot more energy for life on those days when I'm not drowning in my past.

I think that, when you experience loving a child, whether your own or someone else's, as a parent loves their child, that love is felt so deeply that the regrets you feel about not having done your best weigh more than any other kind of regret. It's just my opinion, my experience. The biggest regrets in my life are things that I didn't do right by my niece.

I asked my dad if there was one thing in his whole life that he could change, what would it be? And he said, "I'd have my dad not die." My dad's father died when he was very young. I'm not sure what age he was. His answer struck me so much that I didn't bother saying what it was that I would change. Sometimes I get so wrapped up in what happened when I was growing up, I forget that, at the least, I had two parents whom I knew loved me. I had one thing I could count on...having two parents. What did my mom sacrifice in order to give us that?

I'm thankful that, today, I can see my dad as a human being with feelings. I'm glad I'm not going to waste all the time that's left in his life reviling him over stuff that just can't be changed. I used to do that...go over to my parents' house and lambast my mom and especially my dad for stuff. Not past stuff...whatever they were doing in that moment.

One holiday night, Mr. Nasty and I were going over to my parents' and I could tell he was doing a slow burn. He didn't want to be there. If you'd met my family, you'd understand. But I didn't understand. I wanted so badly for him to accept my family and enjoy them with me. I finally got out of him why he didn't want to go.

There were several simple reasons...it was late, he was tired...but the other reason was something that hit me in the face like a bucket of cold water. "You go into your father's house and yell at him for drinking, for smoking, for whatever. You disrespect him." I wasn't ready to hear this at the time. He saw my dad as more human than I did. He was right. I think I started turning a corner that night. His reaction to my behavior showed me just how ugly it was. It took me a long time and some Program to start to just accept my dad. But I'm getting it.

I'm just grateful that I'm starting to get it in time to enjoy having a father among the living.

Paris Hilton Swears Off Sex for a Year

What's interesting is not that she's decided to publicize this little mission impossible. For her, I mean.

What's interesting is that she claims she's only had sex with a total of two men in her life. I'd find my sister swearing off Oxycontin, welfare, SSI, toxic friends, and ruining her life way more believable than this chick having had sex with only two guys in her entire life.

She's totally going to regret having made that statement. Guys are going to come out of the WOODWORK crying foul. Who knows, I guess. Maybe it's true. But I just find that realllllly hard to believe.

Yeah I know. Judge not, lest ye be judged.

Image of Breastfeeding Fuels Indignation - IE Americans can often be morons.

Hey guys, I have discovered that you can link to articles using the title of your blog article. So if you click on the title of this article, it'll take you to the story about this magazine cover.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This image has inspired outrage. People have called it gross.

I don't get what the big deal is. Breastfeeding is the most natural thing in the world. People see celebrities wearing almost nothing all the time and no one bats an eyelash. A magazine shows something innocent and natural, and people are disgusted by it?

I think our society is way screwed up. I think this image is beautiful. That baby is cute and this was done tastefully. What is the frickin' problem?

I also don't get it when people express disgust over mothers feeding their babies in public. They're just BOOBS people!

A World of Marzipan

Ok right now, I'm in emotional turmoil and that means I want some damn sugar. Right. Now.

So now I gotta go downstairs and clean up after someone's meeting that they had today. I know there are delicious frickin cookies down there and I'll be alone with those cookies. That's not gonna work. I have it on good authority that the conference room won't clean itself up if I stand here and stomp my feet, so I will need to grab a cleanup buddy to go with me. I'm just waiting for her to round the corner and let me know she's ready to go.

There is so much sugar around me, everywhere, that it seems like the whole bleedin office is made out of marzipan. People have candy dishes galore. The new guys especially. That guy brings an ASSORTMENT of candy. The other day he brought a fruit tray and a veggie tray. He's trying way too hard.

Anything to keep our abstinence right? Shit, in the old days, I'd have done anything to get my food. Whether that meant writing bouncy checks, or stealing from Peter to pay Paul, or not paying rent or whatever, I'd do it. I surely can use some of that ingenuity to maintain my abstinence.

The Sh*t Has Finally Really Hit the Fan

IE...my sister's become aware of the petition to terminate. She texted me a coupled times last night, but I thought the texts were from Mr. Nasty, whom I do not wish to speak to or hear from, and so I deleted them both without reading. I asked her today what she needed and she said, "You don't wanna know."

She doesn't have to say anything further. I could tell she'd been doing some pretty bitter crying by the way her voice sounded. God I feel so bad for her. I can't even begin to imagine how much her heart must be breaking. I wish I could do something to comfort her, but I can't. When she's in this much pain, I can't even find fault with her for 'letting' it get this far. I can't find any fault with her; I feel her pain too much. All I can think about it my part in this pain and that I desperately wish that I could take this pain away from her.

The bottom line is that I can't, no matter how much I'd like to.

How Evil Am I?

How evil are you?

The Shoe Odyssey Will Continue Tonight

So tonight I'm going to rake myself over the coals some more and go on a hunt to Payless shoe stores around the city for a pair of shoes to wear to work. I don't think I can deal with these things for one more day. Wish me luck peeps :)

Midlanders Don't Care About Gibson Rant

Click the picture to see a larger view.

Mel Gibson

I'm really getting tired of people going off about Mel Gibson's anti-Semitic rant while he was totally tanked. That guy didn't know his a*$ from a hole in the ground while he was drunk; does anyone really hold their friends accountable when their friends start going off about this or that while drunk, or do you write it off and say, "Yep, he was definitely drunk."

But, at the same time, if I was Jewish, I think I'd be p*$sed. After all, those thoughts are not going to come out the guy's mouth while drunk unless they were already there while he was sober. Those thoughts were there rolling about in his head long before he went on a bender. Heretofore, he had just (wisely) chosen to keep his mouth shut about them.

Gallery of the Absurd has great bumper sticker for this little incident. It's sooooo right-on. Go check it out. www.galleryoftheabsurd.com.

Today's Horoscope & Fourth Step

Secretary,
As much as you might want to hold on to what you've had in the past, a process is pushing you into new territory. Your strong feelings are undergoing metamorphosis, as a new level of self-sufficiency is developing in your life. You are at the center of it with a real sense of purpose. You have been preparing long enough; it's time to create a plan that can bring you closer to your long-term goals.

Good morning all! Well I slept great last night. Went to bed at just a little past midnight and I feel good this morning. :) Yay!

I am so excited. Last night I finished my fourth step work. That's the step where you take a fearless and thorough moral inventory. Now I am ready to take step five. Step four took two months. Step five will take four hours. Four wouldn't have taken that long, but I dragged it out. It doesn't feel to good to go through all that stuff at all. It's like you relive some of the most painful moments of your life. Or perhaps step five is more like that.

In any case, it's done and I'm happy about that. Whew!

Big Feet

 

I have big feet. They are size 11 feet and they're so wide, it's almost like they're webbed. Hence, like those people with super small feet, I am hesitant to go shoe-shopping and am almost always disappointed with the results. I either end up with nada or a pair of shoes that soon proves to be just as uncomfortable as I suppose an iron maiden would be, but not nearly as durable.

 

My current pair of shoes has been worn almost every day since November or December, and they have a hole in them, as well as severe scuffing. To be charitable to that fine pair of shoes that has served me so well, I should say that they have specialized venting and character marks.

 

I mentioned to MFD that she was wearing her hip shoes today and then mentioned that I really needed some new shoes. Women talk like that, especially about shoes. I mentioned that I have really wide feet and she told me that her partner does as well. Her partner has found a trio of stores that are connected, which have wide widths in abundance.

 

Off I go to this trio of shoe stores, hoping to find a treasure. But I don't get my hopes up, because I usually find that stores of this nature are overpriced and have no selection. The other thing that I usually find is that their idea of a good shoe looks like the beige orthopedic number that you'd find on a nun librarian with severely swollen ankles. No thank you. I'm 29, not 69.

 

So I get to the stores. I stop in the first one. No dice. Orthopedic styles that cost about $100.00 apiece are in abundance. Hip, young shoes are not.

 

I go next door to another store.

 

They measure my feet. I make sure they want to do so, because my feet have been in non-breathing shoes with dress socks all day. That is to say, they probably stink. They're sure about this measurement deal, so off come my old shoes.

 

I get a hint as to how downhill this expedition is about to go when the Dumb Shoe Bitch starts pinching her nose and going, "Are you worried that they're STINKY?" while chewing gum, with a little southern accent.

 

No, dumbfuck, I'm worried that you might notice I have leprosy. A toe might fall out and roll around in my sock or something. I'd hate to fish it out in front of you. What the fuck did you THINK I meant?

 

I reply, "Ummm...yes."

 

I'm a little sensitive about my feet, folks. They're fuckin huge, so that's why. So imagine my horror when the dumb bitch measuring my feet goes, "OH MY! Those are BIG FEET!"

 

 I gave her a look that could kill her, but she blathers on about my ginormous feet. "WOW! Those certainly are WIDE! Is that a C or a D? Oh, between C and D? OK, I'll go in the back and see what we got."

 

Off she goes and I remark to the assistant, "Tact isn't her strong suit, is it?"

 

Here's what I want to say: "Tell that dumb bitch to shut the fuck up, and I'm never buying a goddamned pair of shoes in this fucking store as long as I live. Jesus Christ, don't you have anything here for the under 70 crowd? FUCK! For fuck's sake, haven't you ever heard the word hip? You think people with big feet who are 29 fuckin years old want to wear this shit? And then you fuckin overcharge for this ugly shit?" FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!

 

Dumb Shoe Bitch comes back with a couple of ugly ass specimens. I decline both. She offers to walk me over to SAS shoes (for more orthopedic shoes; I'd already been to that fuckin dump), and I just decline, "No thanks. I think I'll be leaving now."

 

Off I go and then call Darling Niki to rant on her voicemail. I feel almost as bad as I imagine I would have had the Dumb Shoe Bitch exclaimed, "Wow! We should just call you SASQUATCH!!! Get it?!! BIG FOOT?!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!"

 

So now I'm in a real lather. My hackles are UP. I give up on quality and then decide to see if Famous Footwear has anything. "Our wide widths stop at size ten."

 

"JEEEEEEESUS CHRIST!" And then I hang up on the poor phone lady. At least I didn't say fuck again.

 

I finally acquiesce and march over to Payless. It turns out that they have a bunch of shoes that seem like they'll fit well. They're not in the colors I like, so I'll order some online tomorrow. My last foray there didn't turn out so well, so that's why I didn't go there to begin with.

 

I hate shoe shopping. God I hate it. I can't wait until I'm thin and my feet shrink again. Then I can shop for shoes like some women eat potato chips when they're stressed. Right now, shoe shopping is strictly utilitarian. There's no fun in it.

 

I'm just glad I'm in Program, because I would have probably had a total meltdown in that store. That lady would have been a quivering mass of nerves by the time I was done. Either that or I'd have been sent to jail.

My Own Post Secret

Every time I sit at Twiggy's desk, I take one small, ancient, never-used item of junk and toss it in the trash.

She never notices.

Probably because there are so bloody many of them. Temp used to complain to high heaven about how cluttered it was. And baby, it IS.

She and MJ were a pair in that regard -- both of them loved QVC, both of them seemed really fastidious, but when you sit at their desks, both desks were filthy. So it is at Twiggy's desk. It's frickin gross. Like she doesn't wash her hands after putting foundation on. Yucky.

Now the Company's Paying Parking Tickets?

I can't believe I'm doing this.

I was looking over MFD's corporate card today and saw a weird charge from the rental car company we use. So I called the rental company up.

MFD was on business in Santa Monica in May and managed to acquire a little souvenir during said business...a parking ticket. She didn't pay it, so the rental car company passed the $15 on to us.

My natural inclination was to expense the ticket as a personal expense, which she'd then have to pay for. Seems reasonable, right? It's not a real business expense, is it? Even though acquired while on business? What do you guys think?

As it turns out, my natural inclination was not the right one and she wanted me to expense it as a miscellaneous expense. Great. How am I going to explain that when they want an explanation? Hopefully they'll just overlook it; it's just a measly $15.00.

I don't know...it just seems a little shady to me.

The Mood Continuum

Start at the bottom.

_____________________________________________
From:   Boy Genius 
Sent:   Wednesday, August 02, 2006 10:04 AM
To:     Secretary
Subject:        RE: question

I suppose you are correct.   Going forward, if any one asks me how I'm doing, I shall reply "I am holding a steady three ticks to the right of good on the Mood Continuum".

Mood Continuum.  That's funny.

_____________________________________________
From:   Secretary
Sent:   Wednesday, August 02, 2006 9:38 AM
To:     Boy Genius
Subject:        RE: question

No, then you would say 'could be better'. Good implies that, on the mood continuum, the little tick mark representing Darling Nikki would be to the right of 'good'. See what I'm saying?

_____________________________________________
From:   Boy Genius
Sent:   Wednesday, August 02, 2006 9:35 AM
To:     Secretary
Subject:        RE: question

Well, "good" implies you can always be "better" - doesn't it?

_____________________________________________
From:   Secretary
Sent:   Wednesday, August 02, 2006 9:33 AM
To:     Boy Genius
Subject:        RE: question

You shouldn't tell lies like that. You might erode your credibility.

_____________________________________________
From:   Boy Genius
Sent:   Wednesday, August 02, 2006 9:32 AM
To:     Secretary
Subject:        RE: question

Not sure, I haven't seen her today yet.   But Darling Niki is always in a good mood

_____________________________________________
From:   Secretary
Sent:   Wednesday, August 02, 2006 9:30 AM
To:     Boy Genius
Subject:        RE: question

Ohhhhhhhhhhhh ok. I had just not seen it before. Thanks Boy Genius :)

Is darling Niki in a good mood today? lol

Hair Coloring Failure

I tried to temporarily dye my hair red last night. It was a no-go.

I also managed to wax most of my eyebrows off, so now I have these realllly thin eyebrows. That didn't go so well.

Two lessons learned here: it's worth it to pay someone to color your hair and wax your eyebrows.

Men are so lucky they don't have to go through this.

Ryan Seacrest

There's a lot of speculation about whether or not Ryan Seacrest is gay. I don't claim to know whether he is or is not.

But please allow me to share with you that this guy is so obviously trying to appear to be a hot blooded heterosexual that he's coming off like some total hound.

I was watching E! tonight and he hosts some show with a brunette chick. And he was making all kinds of suggestive comments, you name it, and it looked so much like he was trying too hard that I was laughing my ass off.

Nowadays, I don't think many people would care if it turned out that he were gay. So why try so hard to hide it?

Paris Hilton's Property Auctioned Off

Whoa, she had some niiiiiiiice costume jewelry. Surprise, surprise. I'm a little surprised that she actually had fairly good taste. :) In my very humble opinion, that is. :o)

New Template

Well I guess changing to this new template fixed a lot of problems. Like the screwy links in my links section.

It turns out the tofu snafu (lol) was because that little box was in the actual post...so I removed that, reposted it minus the box, and that fixed it. I didn't figure that out till after I had switched templates. Damnit.

Oh well.

Damn White Square

Well I think I'm going to try and get rid of this thing by choosing a new template and then by republishing. Which means I'll have to re-add my counter, my links, the works. Damnit.

Dear Readers...

When you are reading A Secretary's Life, are you seeing some odd white frame that has a definition in it? I did something accidentally in Firefox yesterday and now when I bring up ASL, there's that stupid box there. Anyone else seeing this?

Raise Your Hand...

…if you think that Matt McConaughey works out in public just so he can have his picture taken looking hot, thereby whetting the public's appetite for him?

http://socialitelife.com/2006/07/19/matthew_mcconaugheys_moment_of_zen.php