Wednesday, August 31, 2011

On second thought...

So as it turns out, I love the headbands, and they're a huge hit:



So, I'm heading back to Charming Charlie's at my earliest convenience to get some more.  Feathers, snazzy colors.  Wild abandon - coming soon to a noggin near you.

I've decided that my second batch of jelly is acceptable to submit into the fair, and that happens a week from today.

I'm going to see my parents this weekend- that's stellar.

Included in my trip to the ATL, I get to see my BFF Connie and her behbeh Jack, who just turned one.

Babies freak me out, but I do love Connie.

So.

For now, that's it and that's all.

Clearly, my mood today is far better than it was 48 hours ago.

Maybe I had a few really fresh Effexor down at the bottom of the bottle.

Monday, August 29, 2011

On-Shawn-Tay

I decided enough with the headscarves.  Enough!  If I can manage to pull it off, it's headbands from this point forward.

But not just any headbands.  I headed (ha, ha) to Charming Charlie's tonight where I scoured the store for big obnoxious flowery headbands.  Big bows - lots of fluff.

And $37 later, I walked out with three headbands - teal, black and gray.  And two cloth hair bands (don't ask the difference, it doesn't matter), one black, one navy paisley.

And I still hate the way I look.

Oh well.

I also seem to think that the peroxide I've been using to clean the wound, may be discoloring my hair on that side.  It could have been the lighting at CC's, but what are the odds.

I'm tabling my concern over that until the large crater in my skull fills in.

Which.  Whatever.

On a better note, I'm planning a get together here at the house.  I don't know what I'm cooking, and that's disconcerting, but you know - we do what we can.

And what I can do is throw a party, which will certainly lift my spirits.

Champagne JAM!!!

ae

Sunday, August 28, 2011

Ain't nothing going to break my...stride?

So, the mister and I watched a movie last night called Cedar Rapids - not a bad, quick, silly little movie featuring Ed Helms, who I've enjoyed watching since he was a correspondent on The Daily Show.  He's an Atlantan, as am I.  We're roughly the same age - he's about nine months older.

But he's in movies, I train people how to use software.

It's the little differences...

Point being, at the end of the movie, a song called "Break My Stride" started playing, and I sang along.



Except for years and by that I mean until yesterday, I thought the lyrics were:

Ain't nothing gonna break my spine
Nobody's gonna slow me down
Oh no, I've got to keep on moving


So imagine my chagrin when Matt started laughing and pointed out my inability to process shitty 80s music lyrics.

Oh well - it kind of makes sense both ways.

I'd rather have my stride broken of the two.

A good weekend, all in all.  I got a lot of the 21 items on my list done, or pretty close to it.

I cooked an outstanding dinner tonight - seriously, the kind of meal that should win me a new car or something.

Ok, not really - grilled veggie skewers, grilled turkey kielbasa and boiled new potatoes.  Low fat, high fiber, plenty of protein.

The only downside, if you would call it that - is that I smell like a Weber Grill.  I'm also a little itchy, so I'm about to go clean out my scalp crater, get a bath and shave my legs, and possibly make a little air-popped corn...because I can.

And because I'm still a little hungry.  It happens.

And that, I think...well, that's about all for now.

Nobody gonna slow me down.  I got to keep a movin'.

ae

Saturday, August 27, 2011

We'll be singing, when we're winning...

So, the house is kind of a mess.

During our meetings yesterday, I jotted down a note of 21 things I needed to do this weekend - or else.

I conveniently left that list at the office.  Nice!

But I remember a few of the items, and I've already completed one - wash and medicate Lola.

Now, I need to recreate a facsimile of that list and get cracking.

I hate housework.  I haven't ever liked it, and I don't know that I ever will.  But, there are drifts of dog hair covering over most of the corners, there's a ton of free-range laundry, etc.

I really need to make one final attempt at jelly, because while both batches have certainly jelled, they're at a softer state than I need them.

I also really need to dial back my eating.  I've been like a woman possessed and I need to detox, get some fruits and veggies in, get the sugar monkey off my back and pound some water.

So.  Time to get to gettin'.

ae

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Oh, snap!

So, this has been a whirlwind of a week.  Monday... I don't even remember.  Tuesday, I spent the day at Coca-Cola Bottling Company training the nicest group of people - they fed me, got me a cold Coke Zero and gave me tons of swag.

I left there and met colleagues for dinner - I sat between two very boring people, and watched my charming boss have fun at the end of the table.  We met up after dinner and talked though.

Wednesday, our department's summit started, and I was the third of three trainers to give a 1 hour product overview.  I NAILED IT.  I was engaging, I was relevant, I was charming and funny and knowledgeable.  I was riding high!

We had some breakout sessions where we met in smaller groups to talk about what's working and what isn't, and I had a good group, with my old boss as the leader, and I really, really, really like her.

Then I went to weigh in.  Up.  And up by 2.6 pounds.  Which... OK, I'd been eating fried and greasy food, lots of sweets and so on for a week.  Plus, I was in clothes I don't normally wear to weigh in.

And effective right here and now I am back on track, bitches!

Anyway - I met the team at Arrington Vineyard where we drank a little, ate good food and talk a lot.

And I had some crucial face-time with my boss.

He's just fun to hang with.  I talked to lots of different people.  One slightly drunk colleague confided that my presentation had been the best.

I felt good.

Today, I took rum balls in to the Company Bake Sale to benefit ALS.  We also had music - and I sang Sweet Caroline with one of my friends' husband.

Yeah, it's time to put down the fried bologna sandwiches and walk away.  Like... now. 




It was a good day.

And yes, I did some real actual work, too.

It was awesome.

PS - The Coke folks sent an e mail thanking them for sending me because I had done a great job.

PPS - Remind me of this post the next time I bitch about work.

PPPS - Even the head rags worked out pretty well.  At least, in my mind.

Monday, August 22, 2011

Vanity, sanity.

I. am. so. sick. of. wearing. head. scarves.

I broke down and headed to JoAnn's today and bought some material to cover the gaping chasm in my scalp.

I can't get my hair clean, because of the Vaseline that gets slathered onto the dressing I use to contain the aforementioned wound.

So, as a result, I look like a skanky Mennonite.

And I used to think it didn't matter - but after a month in scarves and bandanas, I'd give anything for a nice, clean, big hair day.

I'm so depressed.  Tomorrow I have to train some customers at Coca-Cola Bottling Company, with a head rag.  The next day, I have to give an overview of the three products I train on to my entire department (roughly 40 colleagues).  With a head rag.

In a few weeks, I'll be presenting at my company's User Conference - three days of training and sessions.

In... a head rag.

I may have to start spending a little more money on scarves.

The material I got at JoAnn's isn't bad, but...

I just feel kind of over it.

And we're getting a little bit of that manky smell back.

A greasy, smelly, depressed, skanky businesswoman.

Kind of like this:

Today, we'll cover administrative function,  and Pogroms.



Awesome.


Friday, August 19, 2011

I smell sex and candy.


Me and my better half will be celebrating tomorrow – our Sixth Anniversary.  I’m happy to say that so far, marriage suits me.



I have come out of my shell so much in six years. I was so painfully shy...
It feels like it hasn’t been six whole years, but at the same time, so much has happened since we got married six years ago.

That said, it’s a good weekend to get things done.  Like – remake pepper jelly.  And sweep up massive piles of dog hair.

Which are decidedly not romantic pursuits.  But having a clean, livable sanctuary sounds kind of…hot.  So vacuum, sweep, wash the dog, fold some towels.

I have to tell you, I’m having some pretty serious fatigue.  My trip to Oswego runneth over.  Our flight from IAD to BNA took off and the emergency lights went on as soon as we were airborne. Electrical failure.  Woot.  They turned us around and we were ushered back into the terminal.   Eventually, they canceled the flight, and finally, at 2AM, I was safely in a strange hotel sending a message to the boss to let him know I’d be in a little later than expected in the morning.  I got three hours sleep.

Suffice it to say, I it's two days later, but I am still exhausted.  I tried to catch up on some sleep, and I’ll continue to do so this weekend, but I hit a deficit, and I can’t seem to overcome it.

I’m going for drinks with amigos from work tonight.  One of my favorites is getting married, and we’re celebrating with him and his sweet bride.

I’ve been invited to the Wilson County Fair for a demolition derby as well.

Nothing says Happy Sixth Anniversary like metal on metal aggression.

Because Six is iron after all.

That and candy.

Raisinettes – candies that are chock-full of iron.  Chunky, too.  I love Chunky.

Hmm.

Yeah, I may need a little sleeparoo.

Monday, August 15, 2011

Fiesta! Forevah!

So, here I am in Oswego, NY.

Literally. 

Here I am:




That's me, in front of Rudy's Fish House, recommended to me by one of the Mohs Surgeons at Vanderbilt, who grew up here.

I ate fried food for dinner.  And it was delicious.  I mean really, delicious.   To say nothing of the view - I sat at a picnic table watching Lake Ontario.  It was amaaaaaazing.

I'm driving a Fiesta - it's super cute. And sporty, and fun.

I wore a scarf on the plane today, and I hope it didn't scare anyone.  Since I'm whiter than white, I don't think anyone assumes I'm anything other than a girl with no fashion sense.

And that is a fair assumption.

I ate too much, I'm over-fried, over-greased.  I feel like garbage.

And I need to get to training in the morning, and heaven knows I am not feeling it.

Maybe I should map it now, while I'm thinking about it...

ae

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Are you, are you coming to the tree?


So, if I haven’t mentioned it before, earlier this year,  I read the whole Hunger Games series, which – if you haven’t read it, you need to.  It’s just great.  And I don’t really care as a genre for fantasy/science-fictiony stuff – this was hands down, incredible.

I bring this up, not to impress you with my ability to read books meant for middle-schoolers, although, if that impresses you, so be it.

I mention it because in the last book for the series, Mockingjay, there are a group of people who flood the airwaves with Propos – propaganda pieces that are meant to enrage or provoke as a call to action.

Well, you know – propaganda is fascinating.  It teaches and preaches.  It enrages and enlightens.

And occasionally, it shows up in your company’s breakroom.  I briefly mentioned this yesterday, so let me expound.

I ate lunch in there yesterday and noticed a few new things on the bulletin board.  They’re all one-page “posters” – one asks if you’d be willing to wear your browser history on your shirt – would you be embarrassed to have your boss see it?  Another shows someone breaking into a house and indicates that not all intrusions are this obvious, and to be aware of your online security.  The third warns against online scams and warns you not to click on links that you can’t confirm.  The final one is a copy of a 1940s era war poster – Lost Laptops Sink Ships…

And change your password to something other than "password", dammit.


I don’t know the origin of, or the reasons behind these Propos.  I alternate by being amused and creeped out in equal fashion.

We, and by we I mean an amalgam of my colleagues speculate that we are doing this to make a customer happy about our standards of security within the company.

I keep chuckling because on the browser history Propo, it shows a screenshot of one that includes fredericks.com (slutty underthings) and adameve.com (sex toys).  Funny stuff.

I’m one of a number of people in this office who have inadvertently misentered information and instead of going to dickssportinggoods.com went to, well – dicks.com – they’re totally and completely different.  You’ll find golf balls at the former, and just plain balls at the latter.

Like this, only a little smaller, a little fuzzier, and hopefully in sets of two.





Oh, and once I telesupported a customer who had a file open on his desktop of a topless woman.  It was funny.  I hope he was embarrassed but I doubt it.

So, those exceptions aside, do I intentionally abuse the company internet?  Only just as much as everyone.  Seriously.  I'm not dealing meth, but I've been known to use it for non-business reasons.

I’m planning on doing a little pre-shop at Kohls.com before I head to Kohls brick and mortar at lunch. 

It’s the American way.

For the record,  I feel like I “deserve” something cute to wear to the ballgame.  I considered throwing on my “We Are Nashville”  t-shirt because I have a bandana that would match perfectly!


I am reminded of a woman once on Jerry Springer who said of herself and her daughter, "We are not a bitch!"

But we’ll see. 

ae

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Anger management?

So, I made a mistake yesterday at work, or, actually a few mistakes when setting up a database.

As a result, I've been self-flagellating to make amends all day.

The customer isn't furious, but they do want some special consideration.  A small upload or training freebie, which we'll likely give them.  At no real financial loss to anyone here.

I'm more annoyed that I have to admit fault to a running string of minor player colleagues.  The one who is technically most affected shrugged and said, "Shit happens".  The ones in the margins have been the most frustrating.

I hate being wrong.

I have low self esteem to begin with, so have to be further self-effacing to my already damaged psyche just makes me mad.

Oh well.  At least I love myself enough to mind.

But today deserves a do-over.

However, I'm about 2 hours away from stepping on a digital scale and letting the readout determine my level of worth for the week.  No kidding.

I am feeling very frustrated for a variety of reasons, and I'm trying hard not to let that anger get the better of me.  It's not working.  It just isn't.

It doesn't help that I overdid the caffeine today and I feel like my nerves are covered in fire ants.

It doesn't help that I haven't been exercising and that I cannot seem to get enough sleep.

And that my hair is manky, and I'm sick of explaining to everyone what's up with the scarves.

And that my life seems to be lacking in the "fun" department - because as it turns out, getting enough play in your day is a lot of damn work.

Today I noticed 4 signs in the breakroom - they looked like propaganda - and all were talking about internet security - Lost Laptops Sink Ships, Are you proud of what's in your browser history?  It's beyond weird.  And it doesn't make me feel warm and/or fuzzy. It feels like Comrade ees Vatchink You, Moose and Skvirrel.

Also, I got asked to volunteer for a company-wide bake sale for our pet charity, ALS (Lou Gehrig's disease).  Glad to do it - only I learned my cake will be sold by the slice, which ruins the appeal of making a cake.  Yes, I know I'm being dumb, but from a vanity standpoint, I'd love to know what my cake is worth to someone in toto.  I don't care to see it inexpertly hacked apart and sold to the fumbling masses, who won't be able to appreciate how special it really is.

And isn't that the underlying theme?  No one appreciates my specialness.  I'm constantly looking for feedback, or the laugh, or a gold star, or a hug for my troubles.

I'm looking for approval in all the wrong ways, when really - I need to love myself and approve of myself.

Who gives a damn if I lose a pound this week or make the best cake or look good in scarves if I don't believe in myself to begin with?

And why do I beat myself up about one miscued database when I have 98% of my contracts go off without a hitch?  And why do I let others get to me - especially when I don't give a damn about what those people bring to the table anyway.

I don't know.  I do know that I am beat up, and that after I go weigh in and meet with my group, I'll go home, throw together a salad and get ready to do it again for another day.

So, yeah.

But sadly, I'm not feeling confident or good or funny.   Just scabby and rotting and foolish.  But a little thinner than last week.  At least that.

This too shall pass.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Time heals all wounds. No, really.

So, the manky head smell has either cooled down a little - or, and I'm not ruling it out - I'm just smell-blind to it.

Which is a nod to Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story.   A hilarious movie that may have been overlooked a bit.  It's freaking great.  It also features Tim Meadows, who is just not getting enough work.



That guy has an automatic role when they film the story of my life.  Even if I have to make up a character for him.  Call me, Tim.

It also features the speaker of the "smell-blind" line, Margo Martin, who was also amazing in Paris, Je T'Aime.  Note to self - get that in the queue... we need to see that again.

Sadly, Matt and I don't seek out the same types of movies.  I could subsist on comedies and feel-good romps.  Matt likes a challenge.  He likes walking out at the end of the movie not knowing exactly what happened, and that drives me nuts.

I couldn't tell you the last movie we saw in a first run theatre.  I'll exclude our local art house cinema, The Belcourt, because their first runs are limited release.   They play a lot of older stuff, a lot of foreign films.  I am most definitely going to see Jack Nicholson portray Billy "Badass" Buddusky in The Last Detail in two weeks.

If you have not seen this movie, get it on your queue, buy it, rent it - bootleg it for all I care.  But if you want to see a young, pre-crazy Randy Quaid blow your mind with his excellence, and you want to see Jack Nicholson basically play himself (in his early career), you have to see this movie.

It's one of my father's favorites, and he has seen a lot of movies.

To that end, we saw another vintage Nicholson vehicle the other night - "Five Easy Pieces".  See, again, I would have liked it to have a feel-goodier ending, but it was pretty great.  Plus, it's nice to get the origin of holding the chicken salad between your knees, which is, let's face it - CLASSIC.


I mean really - I give Jack a hard time for just being himself in everything he does, but let's face it - if you're Jack Nicholson - is that really such a bad thing?

See how I managed to reframe my negative head wound post into something a little feel-goodier?

Bravo Yankee, Bravo Yankee...

ae

Friday, August 5, 2011

Try Googling that?


So, I got some of my stitches out a few days ago – the part with the gauze barrier attached.  Good thing, because they were starting to smell a little weird.

The bad news is, the smell is still there.  It’s not infection – because they assured me of that earlier this week.   It’s just vaguely sweet, like fermenting fruit, and it makes me insane.
Matt says he can’t smell anything, and several of my friends have assured me I pass the sniff test, but I can smell it and it makes me feel filthy. 

Also, because of the bandaging and whatnot, that side of my head looks greasy and mangled.

On top of all of that, I’ve derailed the Weight Watchers train a little and gained back four pounds in the past month.  At this rate, I’ll be a lifetimer around age 60.  Because in addition to wanting to eat anything that isn’t nailed down, I haven’t been cleared for Zumba or Water Aerobics.  He didn’t say I couldn’t do walking, and I suppose I’ll hit up the indoor track at the Y this weekend.  Except I hate walking.  I like classes.

I need to stop eating, start walking and quit bitching about it all.

But what I’d like is gravy. And pasta and cheese and several kinds of cake.  And a pot roast.  And some potatoes.  And a few baskets of bread and butter.

Apparently, I just want some carbs.  Carbs that don’t come from watermelon.

But since 4th of July, I’ve gained 4 pounds.

And that’s after they cut out a tumor that must have weighed several pounds.

No, not really, but a girl can dream.

I’d buy myself some perfume to distract from the stench of being Massive Head Wound Harry, but I need to save my funds for the rest of this pay period – specifically, because next weekend, I’m taking my stinky self to Chattanooga to have an outing with the family.  Baseball with the in-laws and cousin-types.  YAaay!



I think I may just lie down for a second...


I may buy a hat for the outing.

Just saying.

ae

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

The Pitch

So, I have an idea for a reality show. 

It's a cross between Temptation Island, The Apprentice and The Bachelorette.

We'll call it "Company Ink".

The "game" takes place in an office - the company's purpose is twofold -  it will be a working, profitable business, but it will be filled with attractive, single young professionals  - interested in mergers of business and pleasure.

If you decide you want to pair off with someone exclusively, you can - but you'll have to leave the show.  If you don't connect with anyone in the office, you'll be given written and verbal warnings - if you can't step it up, you'll be pink-slipped.

And the thing is - there's never a winner.  You could keep this going for years - rotating in new employees as you have turnover.

And the business would have to be operational.  And if you made it something do-goodery, so much the better.  A non-profit eliminating childhood hunger?  A company that manufactures materials for wind farms?

The possibilities are endless.  So, ABC - call me - this has promise.

Monday, August 1, 2011

It only hurts when I'm happy...

Back at work after a weekend of domestic bliss.

I made peach butter - which is exactly like apple butter, only with peaches.  My house smelled like the inside of a Varsity Fried Pie all weekend:

You need to get to North Avenue, Atlanta GA  - STAT!  


 I also put up some curtains in our bedroom, in lieu of doors on our closet.  It's a long story, but it was high time we did something, and I'm so glad we did.

Naturally, I hit the Farmers Market.  I washed my hair, I took some naps.  I watched Blazing Saddles, ate some Chinese food, and generally enjoyed myself.

I also cleaned out the Mud Room.  It was... a disaster, but I've happily brought order to it.

Yeah, I have a mud room.  I also have a Butler's Pantry.  And three full bathrooms, but only one and a half bedrooms.

The half bedroom is what we also call The Annex (special thanks to my sister and Anne Frank), as it's located in the attic, and really only tenable as a living space 6 months out of the year.  Cold weather is fine, but hot weather is loathesome.

Our house was built in 1930, and it has issues.  I love it, but really - sometimes it's a pain in the arse.

Anyway, our mudroom was looking sad.  I want to get some shelf paper for it, but that could possibly wait.

Now... this time tomorrow, we'll be gearing up for suture removal.  I'm not sure what exactly is getting removed.  Is it the gauze bolster?  The whole enchilada?  I'll know tomorrow, and frankly, I'm stoked.

Thankfully, I went sans scarf this morning,  and that seems to work.  I had a tall friend assure me that the gauze was hidden by hair. I kind of liked the scarf because it kept me feeling pulled together.

Now, as for the pain.

It's not entirely painful, except when it is.

It seems to have jarred the right side of my face loose - my nose is running, sinuses draining, eyes watering.  But only on the right side. Excellent.  I'm also feeling some referred pain, and some occasional tingling in the scalp.

Of course, when I smile, or raise my eyebrows, or furrow them?  Paaaain.

So, nothing needs to be funny or surprising or confusing for the next couple of days.

I'm terrified to sneeze.

But this too shall pass.

Scabbily Yours,
ae