Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Bomb and blue streaks...

Sometimes, I have days where what I want to do is get in my car after a long day of work and yell:

fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
fuck fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck

All the way home.

Why are people bound and determined to piss off other people, and why is that somehow my fault, even if I had nothing to do with it?

When will I be loved? And by that, I mean fiscally.

How am I expected to deal with people trying to mess with my head?
Who is blowing smoke up my ass and who genuinely believes in me?

Where is my place in the food chain, and how will I know it's the right place?

What is the hold-up on scheduling my 4th quarter travel?


fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck

fuck.


ae

Tarot, Row, Row Your Boat

So, what you may not know about me, is that from time to time, I've consulted "spiritualists" to assist in my life journey.

We're talking psychics, palmists, tarot readers, clairvoyants and clairsentients.

There's even a website where occasionally, I get a "reading" on a question.

It selects a tarot card at random and explains it to you in relation to the question you're focusing on.

Is it voodoo?  Bunk?  Nonsense?

Probably.

But I was thinking about work, and management changes, and so on this morning.

And this is the card I got.


And here's the description that came with it:

The card represents the critical factor for the issue at hand.  

Seven of Pentacles (Assessment): A pause to check on the progress of your labors. Making difficult financial decisions. Exercising patience and perseverance. Evaluating the status of your work and your options for the future.

So, that's kind of on the nose.

I need a leaning stick for support while I examine my pentacles.

ae

Monday, September 29, 2014

One step closer

Remember the other day when I mentioned I'd written a letter to the Editors of the New Yorker? 

So, today, I received an e mail from the Letters people to tell me they're considering publishing it, but wanted to verify I'd written it and am OK with them publishing an edited version.

Uh, yeah!  I called the woman to confirm and followed up with an e mail.

It's not a done deal, but, maybe, just maybe I'll be published in the New Yorker before I turn 40. 

I'll know in a week.





ae

Friday, September 26, 2014

Ain't that a kick...

So, the changes at work that we were anticipating have been announced.  I have a new manager, and a new department head.

It's... going to be fine, but it was kind of a lot of info to take in over a short period of time.

So the good news is, my new manager's manager?  Used to be my manager, some time ago.

So.  There's that.

I know I sound all calm and such, but when it went down I was like,

"Ohhhhhhh Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuddddddddggggggge"


Only I didn't say fudge.

Anyway.  Que sera, sera... whatever will be will be.

ae

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Happy New Year

Today is the Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashanah. 

Party like it's 5774!


And I got some wonderful news to start out my new year.

Remember that little problem I was having with my liver?  Well, I got results from yesterday's blood work, and guess what!?!

I'm back to NORMAL.

I'm pleased.  I didn't do much other than give up Tylenol and Alcohol.

But I'll take it.  My kidneys are fine, liver's fine, blood sugar is fine.

Cholesterol needs work, but OK - I can make that happen.

I am claiming this new year as mine - to do with what I can to make my life better and happier.

But most of all, healthier.

I can do this.

And I will.

I maintain that I'm one of the luckiest people in the world.  But I need to earn some of my good fortune.

That said..... WOOOOO!  NORMAL!!!

ae




Tuesday, September 23, 2014

I was thinking...

This morning, I had an idea for a magazine called "Pragmatic Bride".  It would feature articles for women who are getting married and also have common sense.  It could also be used to shame women who are being idiots into behaving.




Sample Article Titles:

Fon-DON'T - 7 Cakes that Look Beautiful and ACTUALLY TASTE GOOD.

Nobody Cares About Favors! A Beginners Guide To Reallocating Budget Money to Booze

It's Just A Dress - How To Say "Yes" for Less.

Ecru, Ivory and Candlelight:  Decoding Jargon and Saving Your Sanity

You Can't Go Wrong With Cocktail Weenies

Don't Be Ranunculus - A Guide To Flowers For the Unpretentious

You'll Never Use That: Dos and Don'ts of Your Bridal Registry

Wedding Night Sex - Three Easy Positions For Consummating While Exhausted

Why Your Bridesmaids Hate You: Relationship Rescue

Nobody Will Remember Your Up 'Do Next Year; A Pragmatic Guide to Hair

You Realize You Could Elope and Use The Wedding Money For a Downpayment on a House, Right?

I could go on.

I won't.

ae


Sunday, September 21, 2014

Slow Children at Play

This weekend was all over the place.  I was in a funky mood yesterday.  We ended up going to see some neighbors perform a gospel concert at the Presbyterian Church downtown.  It ended up being filmed for PBS.  It was loud and heartfelt.

Today, I did a bajillion loads of laundry, put some food in the house, and helped Matt install our new desk, and partially dispose of the old one.

I don't know what all else there is to be said.  I am having some reflux issues - it woke me up last night, and it's done so a few times recently as well.  I clearly need to be taking better care of myself.

I have another (!) week without much on my work calendar.

I am hoping to head to OKC next week, but there appear to be delays.

Right now, I'm just kicking back and waiting for whatever happens at work to shake out.

We all kind of feel like it's going to fall apart.

When, though?  And how?

I don't know.

ae

Thursday, September 18, 2014

Oooh. No...

I went to get my driver's license renewed today.  I needed a new picture.

And boy, did I get one:

  

This is the temporary, of course - the real one, in glorious technicolor, will be in the mail within the next few weeks.  Lucky me.

Well, I look angry and pixelated and chunktacular.  And the camera doesn't lie.

So, I have my annual physical with my doctor next week.  I haven't lost weight since May.  Nothing.  Not an ounce.

So she's going to be thrilled.

And maybe even yell at me.

Who knows?  What I can say, is that I will be asking her to do a sleep study.  I feel exhausted and I'm done with all the snoring.

So, that's what I'm up to.  Work feels a little weird and scary at the moment - nothing specific, just a general feeling of, "all is not well".

And others are seeing it too - so while it's disconcerting, I know I'm not alone.

I recall the last few lines of one of my favorite poems - Speak White, by Michele Lalonde:

And we hear you say
We're doing all right
We're doing fine
We
Are not alone


We know
That we are not alone.

ae

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Read it and Shop

My mother reads New Yorker, and this past year when she renewed, they offered her a second subscription which she sent to us.

I generally read it for the cartoons.

Especially the ones by this guy:


Charles Barsotti.  He died earlier this year, but his line drawings live on.

Anyway.  Like I said, I read New Yorker for the cartoons.  I will occasionally read the short story, or any number of the humor pieces, etc.

Today, I was perusing the one that arrived yesterday.  And there was an article.  One that you need to read:

The Plus Side


I wrote a Letter to the Editor of the New Yorker.  If it gets in, I'll link to it.  If not, I'll share it here next week.

Is this a cheaty way to up my posts?


Saturday, September 13, 2014

Look, I'm just sharing this...

I wrote an e mail to a friend of mine today, a fellow foodie who was appalled that I own/use a shaker can of Parmesan cheese.  Names are omitted to protect the innocent:



I have something to tell you that may change the way you feel about me.  I hope you'll still want to talk to me once you've read this, but if not - I understand.

The canned Parmesan cheese is just the tip of the iceberg.

Look, I've traveled, I've eaten at fine restaurants and I know which fork to use when. I can comfortably order wine for a table of 10, and I can create a cheese plate that would make mere mortals weep.  I know tartare from tatin, and I can order from a menu, pronouncing the foreign words without pointing.

But the fact of the matter is, I'm having a little fling on the side with Hector Boiardi - you know him better as Chef Boy-Ar-Dee.  

That's right, I've committed sins of the flesh with Duncan Hines, Twinkie the Kid and Dr. Pepper.

I've experimented with Sara Lee, Little Debbie and Mrs. Butterworth.

What I'm saying is that l like good food, but I also really like the stuff that I should be ashamed of admitting.

I've eaten and will continue to eat plenty of boxed mac and cheese - because I'm too lazy to make my own mornay sauce. And I'm not entirely confident that I can. I like Cool Whip better than whipped cream.   I think Velveeta makes damn good cheese dip, especially combined with Rotel.  And sausage. Not chorizo, even - just some good Tennessee Pride breakfast sausage.

I've been known to eat cookie dough for dinner.  From the tube.

I think white bread, the really soft garbagey Wonderbread stuff, makes great sandwiches (especially cold meatloaf sandwiches).   I like cherry Kool-Aid.  I've been known to enjoy canned fruit cocktail.

When I was young, and broke, and not mooching a meal off my parents, I'd eat Dinty Moore stew over biscuits that came from a can.  I'd gladly cook that for dinner once a week, if it had nutritional value.  It doesn't.

I've never made a custard, and I'm not sure I'd do it well.  My pancakes are a disaster.  I use a lot of "cream of" soups in my cooking.

I actually like movie popcorn with butter, but I haven't had it in years.  When I just out of college, I often went to the movies alone on Friday nights and had popcorn and Junior Mints and saw a crappy chick flick.  It was amazing.

I think Shake n Bake is a perfectly great way to enjoy pork chops.  And chicken. Cold Shake n Bake chops are an amazing breakfast.

I think Budweiser, really cold on tap is about as good as it gets.  I can't do IPAs, Porters or Stouts.  Red wine gives me a screaming headache, but I love a good cheap Vinho Verde.  I used to drink Zima in college.  And wine coolers, from time to time.

I enjoy fried bologna unironically.  I know that potted meat is disgusting, but I love it, with yellow mustard.

I occasionally crave Krystals, even though they are responsible for the worst food poisoning of my life.   I often tell Atlantans that I ate at the Varsity twice the week of my wedding, and they are stunned at my valor.

What I'm saying, is that I love goat cheese as much as the next girl, but sometimes, I just want some Cheez-Its.

I hope we can still be friends.


Tears of joy.

I occasionally just get tickled by things people do.

To wit:

There's this fraternity at Transylvania University in Kentucky that did a video/lip dub to Taylor Swift's "Shake It Off" - a song which I am ashamed to admit I kind of love.  It's a very guilty pleasure.



So this group of nice looking Fraternity Boys are playing and dancing to this fun little boppy song, and my heart just swells with love.  These kids clearly don't take themselves too seriously, and guess what?  Ms. Swift was so impressed, she invited the whole damn chapter (and their dates) to one of her concerts coming up.

Then, if that wasn't enough...

The Pope.  Francis.  Il Papa.

He blessed a parrot.  And not just any parrot.  A parrot named Amore.  Who belongs to a male stripper.

That's Amore!

All I'm saying is, there's War, Famine, Poverty and Cruelty the world over.

But there are Popes and Parrots and Dancing Delta Sigs, and Strippers the world over, too.

I know which ones I pick.

ae


Friday, September 12, 2014

Wow, that's annoying!

I'm at an irritating stage in the grief obstacle course where everything reminds me of my Dad.

I cannot go a day without somehow interjecting to people who ALREADY KNOW THIS, "I  have a father.  He died.  I have a dead father.


Alive Dad, Mom and Me - July 2013


Maybe not in so many words, but that's definitely the message I'm conveying.

I went to dinner with my friend, Jim tonight and I think I brought Dad up, in stories or whatnot at least a half dozen times.  Thankfully, Jim is patient, kind and a good friend.

And have I mentioned my dead dog Lola recently?  No?  Oh, well I miss her.  And I'd like another dog, but I'm traveling too much.

Night of the Living Lola - July 2012



Have I mentioned I travel all the time?  And that my father died and that I miss my dog, Lola?


I feel like a broken record.

And not an interesting one.

I said over and over and over again, this dance is going to be a drag.

ae



Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Dad's Favorite Joke

As I was getting dressed this morning, I thought of my father, and a joke that he loved to tell.

A man was plagued with headaches.  For years he went to different doctors and tried everything, to no avail.  Finally one doctor recommended something drastic, but felt certain it would cure the man:  they needed to cut off his testicles.

He was shocked and depressed. He wondered if he had anything to live for. He couldn't concentrate long enough to answer, but decided he had no choice but to go under the knife.

When he left the hospital he was without a headache for the first time in 20 years,  he felt like a new person. He saw a men's clothing store & thought, "That's what I need - a new suit!"

He entered the shop and told the salesman, "I'd like a new suit." The elderly tailor eyed him briefly and said, "Let's see ... size 42 long."  Joe tried on the suit. It fit perfectly.

He admired himself in the mirror,  and the salesman asked, "How about a new shirt?" The man said, "Sure." The salesman eyed him and said, "Let's see, 34 sleeve & 16-1/2 neck." Joe tried on the shirt, and it fit perfectly. As Joe adjusted the collar in the mirror, the salesman asked, "How about new shoes?"  The salesman eyed his customer's feet and said, "Let's see ... 9-1/2 E." The man was astonished, "That's right, how did you know?" "Been in the business 40 years!"

He tried on the shoes and they fit perfectly. The man walked comfortably around the shop and the salesman asked, "How about some new underwear?"  "Absolutely!" The salesman stepped back, eyed the man's waist and said, "Let's see... size 36."

The man laughed. "Ah ha! I got you! I've worn size 34 since I was 18 years old." The salesman shook his head, "You can't wear a size 34. A size 34 underwear would press your testicles up against the base of your spine and give you one hell of a headache."

Monday, September 8, 2014

Whiskers on Kittens

My mother's BFF is fostering some kittens.  I'm in love with this one:

Have you ever in your life seen a cat so beautiful?

Now, they live in Grand Rapids, Michigan - so it's not likely we'll be driving up there to get her.  But come on - it's sick how gorgeous this cat is.

Meanwhile, I had a good lunch break.  I went and picked up some new bras.

After dinner, I went to Lush and got some exfoliant, and then I came home and tweeted while I watched House Hunters.  Really, that's pretty much the only way to watch.

And soon, it'll be bedtime.  And tomorrow, we start again.

I have a good life.  I simply remember my favorite things...and then I don't feel so bad.

ae

Sunday, September 7, 2014

Sugar and Spice and All Things Considered...

I made the damn jelly today.  I used our new Cuisinart food processor, and as a result, may have gotten the peppers too squishy and the damn stuff won't set.

We'll see.

Sugar, Peppers,Vinegar, Pectin

All that getting in a better mood?  Not happening.  I could use some ice cream - that might help.

Except that it's a temporary fix and I need something a little more permanent.

Like an ice cream patch.  Do they make those?  They should.

I Googled it.  They make the kind you can sew on backpacks.

Not the kind that infuses your central nervous system with sugar and butterfat.

Because clearly I need more fat.

And sugar.

Not just the sugar that's stuck to my skin from an afternoon of jellymaking.

Or, liquid peppergoo making.  Whatever.

Onward and upward!

ae




I need a change of scenery...

So, I can't seem to un crank. 

I slept way, way in today, then we went to lunch, to the bookstore and then Trader Joe's.  It was crowded and loud each place we went, with annoying kids crying and/or underfoot.

I did one load of laundry.  That is the sum and total of my productivity for my day. 

I'm headed to California later this week, but that seems like a pretty sweet place to be going, all things considered.  I need to de-fur my legs, and I'm hoping that a dress I have ordered from Macy's will arrive in time, and that it'll fit and look amazeballs.

If not, I have plenty of things to wear, but...

MEH!!!!!

So there is that.

I am thinking I'll head to the farmer's market tomorrow.  Who knows?

I do know that I am kind of stoked about getting out of the office.  There's a mood there. I'm trying to be positive.

I'm trying.

But.

Meh.

Friday, September 5, 2014

Meet me at your locker...

For reasons too bizarre and personal to get into, I have spent the last week feeling like I was reliving Middle School.

And not in a good, fun, play practices, innocent crushes and easy Social Studies classes kind of way.

Just...DRAMA (and not drama club)!


People are passing me notes and today, no kidding, I feel like I was living a plot of Saved by the Bell - which makes me a dumbass, but what can you do?  Does he LIKE like you?  I don't know.  I don't care.

I've decided I need to be pretty calculated about who I talk with and about what.

It's not that I don't trust people, it's that I do trust them and they're sketchy.

And they don't care about protecting my reputation.

So, that's just that.

Because I survived Crabapple Middle School, but I was young and resilient.  And I had tons of estrogen and was crazy skinny and OK, sure, weird hair, but not one strand of it was gray.

So if I'm going to survive 6th Floor/7th Grade, I'm going to need to watch my back.  I'm older, fatter, grayer, but wiser, funnier, smarter and meaner.  I will go Degrassi on your ass in a heartbeat.

And yeah, I'm talking the original Degrassi.

Fun fact:  In searching for an image, I learned that Wheels (rather the actor who played him) died in 2007.




I just wish there were a musical.  Oliver Twist saved my ass 27 years ago... what's once more?







Tuesday, September 2, 2014

NO!

Oooweeee, I am one cranky little cuss this afternoon.

To start, I have a customer who is being a complete PITA.  I did the guy a favor by fixing something minor, but requiring a lot of tedious repetitive data entry.  I let him know I was done, and he complained about the way I'd done it.  NO. MAS.

I also have one of those big, lurking, hard zits that's threatening to erupt on my right cheekbone.  Obviously, it's the kind that just hangs out there, hurting and feeling ginormous before eventually it just gets fed up and leaves.  Unless I molest it enough and then it'll bleed for about ten seconds, scab over and look bad for a few weeks.



Work is fine, although I'm not crazy busy, and that gives me time to think about spending money.  I'm eyeballing a carpet for the front room, plus an IKEA desk, and so on and so on and so on.

I'm planning to bolt a few minutes early so I can go to the 12South Farmers Market and buy flowers for myself.  It's how I roll, peeps.

Maybe I can de-crank a little before I get home.

ae





Monday, September 1, 2014

What I did with my Labor Day Vacation

Hello, September.

It's still hot as balls here in Music City.  BALLS.

We went down to Atlanta for the weekend, and I went through Dad's ties and hats, which I'll be putting to use in decorating our house.

I turned the ties into curtains in our kitchen, and I love them.  LOVE.

Twenty Eight Ties.  All silk.
So, that was my afternoon.  What I learned from this is that Dad favored a designer named Bert Pulitzer (who apparently influenced Calvin Klein, as indicated here).

But he ran the spectrum.  There's a Christian Dior up there, as well as one from Gap.  Abercrombie & Fitch, and of course a few Brooks Brothers.

Mostly, it's nice to have a little of Dad's DNA in my kitchen, where I do what I do.  I feel a little connected to him.

It was, all in all, a good weekend.  We had fun with Mom and the pugs, hit up IKEA, ate good food, and basically chillaxed.

We bought Mom a laptop.  Why?  Well, it's a long story, but basically - she needed it.  We needed her to have it - and they're SO CHEAP.  Holy shit laptops are cheap.

Back to work tomorrow, which is kind of a shame.  I could use another day to chill and be chilling.

And - ugh.  Work.  What a mess.  There's just a lot of chaos, re-orging, and people not behaving like they ought to.  Kind of the usual.  We're in a new, weird world.  I'm getting yet another new boss to be named... eventually.  I think they've already decided who, and that in and of itself sucks.  We'll see.  I'll keep you posted.

ae