It feels only fair to warn you, the reader, that this entry is pretty gross. It's graphic for the sake of posterity, and not everyone will be able to stomach the contents (I swear, this sentence is rife with puns! Why can't I be this clever when I'm trying??) of this entry.
Finally, I have the energy to write something!
We went to Portland on Saturday. The plan was to pop into Clay City to see the divine Ms. Em, then to spend the evening attacking a box of wine with Esteban* and his wife Selsun*. Attack it we did! Jeremy and I supplied the box of Peter Vella's Chardonnay (the white grenache was gone, and it was the least horrifying alternative). Esteban also had another bottle of white, easy-to-consume wine. We watched movies, chatted, visited...and twenty minutes later, I was drunk. We primarily watched a selection of $1 films that Jeremy and I found at Wal*Mart the previous evening: specifically, Concrete Cowboys, starring Tom Selleck and Jerry Reed; and The Curious Adventures of Mr. Wonderbird, an old cartoon, allegedly based on a story by Hans Christian Anderson. Neither film make an ounce of sense. And that's not the alcohol's fault. (we toyed with watching a third, Panda and the Magic Serpent, but we just couldn't do it. We did watch Stroker Ace again, though.)
I don't think I had more than six glasses (though Jeremy tells me they more closely resembled "goblets") of wine. Nevertheless, when we finally went to bed several hours later, I wasn't horizontal for long before the Vella needed to make its violent exit. I managed to get to the bathroom before accidentally throwing up all over the door. Jeremy came into help me clean it up, since I was still in the process of being physically ill. All we could find was toilet paper, so we used huge clumps to wipe up what we could find before throwing it all into the toilet.
Did that make you stop, allowing you to intuit what happened next? Because if your guess was that the next flush caused the toilet to overflow, then you would be right! So the toilet was leaking water all over the floor, all over us, all over everything. We used more toilet paper and the only two towels we could find to soak the water up (and this time, we disposed of the mess in the garbage can). Jeremy plunged the toilet a bit, and we got the water level down. But we weren't sure if we had actually unplugged the toilet or not! Meanwhile, I was still actively sick, and being disallowed to flush. Having to stick my face in the can was reason enough to be sick after a few more hacks. After awhile, I could take no more, and flushed again. Thankfully, the blockage was gone.
That was the first hour.
Any time I attempted to stand up or lie down (vertical and horizontal were not happening), I'd start yakking again. I hadn't had that much to eat that day (which is my own fault, but not the point), so somewhere around the beginning of hour two I ran out of things to throw up. I had tried drinking water, but any time I sipped I puked it right back out. A yellow substance, tasting much like aspirin, started replacing it. That was interspersed with dry heaves, which for some reason were uncontrollably loud and desperate-sounding. Jeremy, my loving man-hunk, sat with me. His attempts at physical comforting resulted in further retching. But it was nice not to be alone.
Anyway, this went on for hours. During that time, Jeremy spent some time reading Dianetics in the hallway, and eventually went to bed. Around 5:00 a.m. we went back to the living room. I sat in a chair for awhile, hoping to fall asleep upright. That went well for about twenty minutes, at which point I attepted to lie down with Jeremy. Literally two seconds after putting my head down, I started getting sick again. I ran to the bathroom for another hour of fun. This time, I sought the company of tabloids. At 6:30 I went back to the living room, and managed to fall asleep in the chair. A little after 7:00, Esteban woke us up by pretending he wasn't waking us up. Apparently he and Selsun slept like babies. They heard none of the commotion, and were, in fact, about to comment on how "apparently no one got THAT drunk last night". If only.
We got back to Jay just after noontime on Sunday. We napped and watched television.
The amazing this is, I didn't think I was that drunk. Seriously. Only after the fact was I informed that Peter Vella Chardonnay is 11% alcohol. Not 11 proof. A huge difference. Eleven proof doesn't result in almost six hours of puking. It was good wine though. It's too bad I'm never never never drinking again. Oh well. More for everyone else!
*names changed for my own personal amusement
01 March 2006
20 February 2006
bad mood, decent weekend
What did I do this weekend?
Saturday Jeremy and I went to Wal*Mart, as it was an excuse to get out of the apartment. We shopped for almost two hours. By the time we were done, I was ready to scream. But we made some exciting digital video disk purchases (Super Troopers, The Karate Kid, another season of Gilmore Girls), not to mention some household necessities (a big knife, a cutting board, foamy hand soap). My former co-worker Anna was supposed to come by that evening, but never showed. Ah, to be a busy and important twenty year old! It was fine, because we had talked Friday night and caught up about as much as we were going to.
Sunday we went to Portland to meet my mother for lunch at Ruby Tuesday. I got a burger. In place of cheese, I had wax paper. My meal was comped (comp'ed? compt. It was free.) as a result. From there we went to Target (the only exception to my over-shop limitations), where Jeremy got a shirt, and I got sneakers. We quickly hit Old Navy, where I got a very green sweatshirt, and Jeremy got several attractive pieces of clothing (for under $50!). Then it was Borders, for some mindless wandering before heading back home. We decided the visiting could wait until next weekend. A day with mom doesn't generally end with me wanting to spend time with people. ("Don't forget, honey, you're a terrible manipulative person who almost ruined your sister for life! What do you think of these shoes?")
I have been in a putrid mood all week. My assumption is that it's directly related to a particular time of month, but that's never been a predictable occurence, so I can't be sure. I've been extra clumsy, dropping and hitting things left and right. I was convinced that I had broken three toes on Saturday morning (running to answer the phone, I fell into the wall at a corner, forcibly bending the tiniest three toes of my left foot in an unnatural direction). Coffee's only exacerbating the grouchiness. My sleep has been weird too...every night for the last week or two, I wake up in the middle of the night, and lie there for several minutes, before drifting off again. And my dreams, though not memorable, have been very real-feeling and unpleasant. I can recall a dream about bugs. In my bathroom, on me...everywhere. In general, it sucks.
I like having the weekend off. I get the same luck next weekend, and then never again (without begging and butt-kissing at least two weeks in advance). Someday I'll work a job that allows me all the weekends I want. Not that I'm going to complain about work again. I'M getting sick of hearing my problems!
Saturday Jeremy and I went to Wal*Mart, as it was an excuse to get out of the apartment. We shopped for almost two hours. By the time we were done, I was ready to scream. But we made some exciting digital video disk purchases (Super Troopers, The Karate Kid, another season of Gilmore Girls), not to mention some household necessities (a big knife, a cutting board, foamy hand soap). My former co-worker Anna was supposed to come by that evening, but never showed. Ah, to be a busy and important twenty year old! It was fine, because we had talked Friday night and caught up about as much as we were going to.
Sunday we went to Portland to meet my mother for lunch at Ruby Tuesday. I got a burger. In place of cheese, I had wax paper. My meal was comped (comp'ed? compt. It was free.) as a result. From there we went to Target (the only exception to my over-shop limitations), where Jeremy got a shirt, and I got sneakers. We quickly hit Old Navy, where I got a very green sweatshirt, and Jeremy got several attractive pieces of clothing (for under $50!). Then it was Borders, for some mindless wandering before heading back home. We decided the visiting could wait until next weekend. A day with mom doesn't generally end with me wanting to spend time with people. ("Don't forget, honey, you're a terrible manipulative person who almost ruined your sister for life! What do you think of these shoes?")
I have been in a putrid mood all week. My assumption is that it's directly related to a particular time of month, but that's never been a predictable occurence, so I can't be sure. I've been extra clumsy, dropping and hitting things left and right. I was convinced that I had broken three toes on Saturday morning (running to answer the phone, I fell into the wall at a corner, forcibly bending the tiniest three toes of my left foot in an unnatural direction). Coffee's only exacerbating the grouchiness. My sleep has been weird too...every night for the last week or two, I wake up in the middle of the night, and lie there for several minutes, before drifting off again. And my dreams, though not memorable, have been very real-feeling and unpleasant. I can recall a dream about bugs. In my bathroom, on me...everywhere. In general, it sucks.
I like having the weekend off. I get the same luck next weekend, and then never again (without begging and butt-kissing at least two weeks in advance). Someday I'll work a job that allows me all the weekends I want. Not that I'm going to complain about work again. I'M getting sick of hearing my problems!
15 February 2006
johari window
http://kevan.org/johari?name=fannie227
The Johari Window was invented by Joseph Luft and Harrington Ingram in the 1950s as a model for mapping personality awareness. By describing yourself from a fixed list of adjectives, then asking your friends and colleagues to describe you from the same list, a grid of overlap and difference can be built up.
If you want to describe me in 5+ pre-selected adjectives, click on the link at the top of the entry. I will do the same for you.
Nothing of interest to share otherwise. It's been a dull day.
The Johari Window was invented by Joseph Luft and Harrington Ingram in the 1950s as a model for mapping personality awareness. By describing yourself from a fixed list of adjectives, then asking your friends and colleagues to describe you from the same list, a grid of overlap and difference can be built up.
If you want to describe me in 5+ pre-selected adjectives, click on the link at the top of the entry. I will do the same for you.
Nothing of interest to share otherwise. It's been a dull day.
13 February 2006
algebra + candy = x; solve for frisbee
I think I'm being rewarded for surviving two weeks of hell...reward in the form of two weekends off. Not only do I have the next two Saturdays and Sundays off, but I open on both Fridays (more tasks than customers)! I close the next two Mondays, Tuesday off, open Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, then Saturday and Sunday off. This is a schedule I can work with.
One of the weekends will probably be spent in Portland. It's inevitable. Not only do I need to give my mother money, but people would like to be visited. I can't say I blame them. We're an enigmatic pairing. (joke)
I happened to be internet-chatting with Lorrie, and typed a paragraph that included two different contractions of the same three words: I typed "you aren't" and "you're not". The fact that I used both in one sentiment seemed interesting to me. Why didn't I type one of them twice? Why did I change it up? Perhaps with instances such as these, there needs to be one super-contraction: "you'r'n't". I might be the only one interested by this, and that's okay. If my sister's reaction to this reality is an accurate gauge, then I should waste no more brain cells on this.
I've been eating lots of Dum-Dums as of late, and collecting the wrappers. According to the package, you can "Save Wraps For Stuff*". Their asterisk, not mine. It's an important asterisk, one not to be dismissed. It's what tells me (after eating the pre-requisite twenty pops, and then some) that these wrappers will not give me FREE stuff, but a discount on select Dum-Dum brand products. I went to the website to see what kind of savings my gluttony had netted, and there's no clear answer. The products don't have a regular retail price. I could get a Dum Dum frisbee for "twenty wrappers plus $1! (plus $2 shipping and handling)" The T-Shirt is twenty wrappers plus $8, plus S&H. Algebraically, let x = 20 wrappers, let y = shipping and handling, and z = the item cost. Wait. The item cost is z minus x, so z can't be the item cost. z is the cash after x. So x+y+z=? Damn it, I used to be able to do crap like this. Get rid of z. x+y+8= n. Solve for n. You can't! I can't! It's still messed up. THE POINT: I'm left to assume that without the twenty wrappers, I'm barred from purchasing Dum Dum merchandise. I'm wondering if Dum Dum wrappers can be sewn together. They might make a nice handbag. Or wallpaper.
One of the weekends will probably be spent in Portland. It's inevitable. Not only do I need to give my mother money, but people would like to be visited. I can't say I blame them. We're an enigmatic pairing. (joke)
I happened to be internet-chatting with Lorrie, and typed a paragraph that included two different contractions of the same three words: I typed "you aren't" and "you're not". The fact that I used both in one sentiment seemed interesting to me. Why didn't I type one of them twice? Why did I change it up? Perhaps with instances such as these, there needs to be one super-contraction: "you'r'n't". I might be the only one interested by this, and that's okay. If my sister's reaction to this reality is an accurate gauge, then I should waste no more brain cells on this.
I've been eating lots of Dum-Dums as of late, and collecting the wrappers. According to the package, you can "Save Wraps For Stuff*". Their asterisk, not mine. It's an important asterisk, one not to be dismissed. It's what tells me (after eating the pre-requisite twenty pops, and then some) that these wrappers will not give me FREE stuff, but a discount on select Dum-Dum brand products. I went to the website to see what kind of savings my gluttony had netted, and there's no clear answer. The products don't have a regular retail price. I could get a Dum Dum frisbee for "twenty wrappers plus $1! (plus $2 shipping and handling)" The T-Shirt is twenty wrappers plus $8, plus S&H. Algebraically, let x = 20 wrappers, let y = shipping and handling, and z = the item cost. Wait. The item cost is z minus x, so z can't be the item cost. z is the cash after x. So x+y+z=? Damn it, I used to be able to do crap like this. Get rid of z. x+y+8= n. Solve for n. You can't! I can't! It's still messed up. THE POINT: I'm left to assume that without the twenty wrappers, I'm barred from purchasing Dum Dum merchandise. I'm wondering if Dum Dum wrappers can be sewn together. They might make a nice handbag. Or wallpaper.
09 February 2006
nineteen
I unlocked the store again this morning, but this time for a gal who was hired around the same time I was, and is consistently late for work. So I clocked in this time. It turns out, being taken advantage of is easier to handle when one gets paid. I can't wait until everything's back to normal.
Considering all the work problems, I'm left to wonder about nineteen-year-olds. Are they all so...unreliable? Undependable? Where's the work ethic? It makes me wonder if I was the same way at nineteen. Are they all wired that way? At what age does reputation start to mean something? Even at a slave-wage corporation such as Movie Gallery, you have to work hard. Left to their own devices, nothing gets done. This job makes me feel OLD. Seriously. Never before have I stepped back to reflect on "kids today".
I'm sure there are exceptions. This is not a blanket statement, trashing all nineteens. This is aimed primarily at the staggering number of the ones I work with.
My brain chimes in, "Why are you at a job peppered with teenagers?"
I don't know, brain. I don't know.
I'm going to watch movies all afternoon until I have to go back into work. Tomorrow is my only day off this week. That is, unless Tami calls me in again. I hope she doesn't.
Considering all the work problems, I'm left to wonder about nineteen-year-olds. Are they all so...unreliable? Undependable? Where's the work ethic? It makes me wonder if I was the same way at nineteen. Are they all wired that way? At what age does reputation start to mean something? Even at a slave-wage corporation such as Movie Gallery, you have to work hard. Left to their own devices, nothing gets done. This job makes me feel OLD. Seriously. Never before have I stepped back to reflect on "kids today".
I'm sure there are exceptions. This is not a blanket statement, trashing all nineteens. This is aimed primarily at the staggering number of the ones I work with.
My brain chimes in, "Why are you at a job peppered with teenagers?"
I don't know, brain. I don't know.
I'm going to watch movies all afternoon until I have to go back into work. Tomorrow is my only day off this week. That is, unless Tami calls me in again. I hope she doesn't.
08 February 2006
woof.
Here's my horoscope for the week:
Happy Valentine Daze, Sagittarius! The more animal noises you make during the season of love, the better you're going to feel and the more successful you're likely to be. The astrological omens indicate that cosmic rhythms will tend to align in your favor if you express a whole range of primal feelings with moans, growls, cackling, and other non-verbal sounds. P.S. If you don't pursue this agenda with conscious intent, beastly behavior might possess you at inappropriate times, such as lion-like super-yawns in the middle of a meeting or uncontrollable yapping when you're suddenly overcome by territorial instincts.
So don't mind me if I'm spitting, growling, or bleating in the corner. I'm just expressing myself.
It's been a hellish week at work so far. There's been a medical emergency, and everyone's schedules have been thrown out of whack. I got called in yesterday, my day off, and today I had to get up to let the opener into the store. I literally rolled out of bed, threw on some pants, and walked over. All I had to do was unlock the door, right? HA! An hour and a half later, almost 30 minutes after the store opened, did he show up. I opened the store, waited on customers, shelved movies...unshowered. I looked and smelled like death. And I didn't clock in, because I figured there was no point in clocking in just to unlock a door.
Anything to help.
Yes, it'll be nice to find other work.
I'm forcing myself to read today. My books are due back the 21st, and if I don't start soon, there's no way I'm going to get through them. More blog later.
Happy Valentine Daze, Sagittarius! The more animal noises you make during the season of love, the better you're going to feel and the more successful you're likely to be. The astrological omens indicate that cosmic rhythms will tend to align in your favor if you express a whole range of primal feelings with moans, growls, cackling, and other non-verbal sounds. P.S. If you don't pursue this agenda with conscious intent, beastly behavior might possess you at inappropriate times, such as lion-like super-yawns in the middle of a meeting or uncontrollable yapping when you're suddenly overcome by territorial instincts.
So don't mind me if I'm spitting, growling, or bleating in the corner. I'm just expressing myself.
It's been a hellish week at work so far. There's been a medical emergency, and everyone's schedules have been thrown out of whack. I got called in yesterday, my day off, and today I had to get up to let the opener into the store. I literally rolled out of bed, threw on some pants, and walked over. All I had to do was unlock the door, right? HA! An hour and a half later, almost 30 minutes after the store opened, did he show up. I opened the store, waited on customers, shelved movies...unshowered. I looked and smelled like death. And I didn't clock in, because I figured there was no point in clocking in just to unlock a door.
Anything to help.
Yes, it'll be nice to find other work.
I'm forcing myself to read today. My books are due back the 21st, and if I don't start soon, there's no way I'm going to get through them. More blog later.
07 February 2006
good coffee, good books, and Dutch
I'm currently enjoying a steaming mugful of Green Mountain's "Golden French Toast"-flavored coffee (VERY good) and perusing my library books. That's right! LIBRARY BOOKS. I had Jeremy select them at random, because it seems like a fun game, and could result in my reading something I never would've thought to pick up otherwise. And by sharing the titles in here, it even futher forces me to read what I've been given.
-Marley and Me by John Grogan
-Early Bird by Rodney Rothman
-My Neck of the Woods by Louise Rich
Marley is a bad dog. Early Bird is "a memoir of early retirement". My Neck of the Woods is northern Maine.
I've read one book this year so far, The Pearl by John Steinbeck. I've started and stopped two other books (which I'm determined to finish at some point). It's harder to find time to read. I suppose that's why it's called a book "challenge".
I got Jeremy to watch Dutch yesterday. He liked it. But I think he knew I wanted him to like it. He didn't like it as much as I like it. I like it a lot. I've seen it on television several times since 1991. Maybe the age of first viewing has something to do with it, but I know no one who agrees that Dutch is funny. For me, before Dutch, Ed O'Neill was a talentless hack. But that all changed A.D. (after Dutch).
Okay. Enough aimless jibber-jabber for today.
-Marley and Me by John Grogan
-Early Bird by Rodney Rothman
-My Neck of the Woods by Louise Rich
Marley is a bad dog. Early Bird is "a memoir of early retirement". My Neck of the Woods is northern Maine.
I've read one book this year so far, The Pearl by John Steinbeck. I've started and stopped two other books (which I'm determined to finish at some point). It's harder to find time to read. I suppose that's why it's called a book "challenge".
I got Jeremy to watch Dutch yesterday. He liked it. But I think he knew I wanted him to like it. He didn't like it as much as I like it. I like it a lot. I've seen it on television several times since 1991. Maybe the age of first viewing has something to do with it, but I know no one who agrees that Dutch is funny. For me, before Dutch, Ed O'Neill was a talentless hack. But that all changed A.D. (after Dutch).
Okay. Enough aimless jibber-jabber for today.
01 February 2006
if a dog craps in a video store and no one sees it...
...then it was a different dog in a different video store. I worked for an hour today, my day off, and while I was there a little yappy dog came in. Before it's owner had completed the transaction, the pup had shit near the entrance. It was either the dog or Patrick, but it far outmassed my co-worker's previous stools. I do sympathize with the embarrassed woman, who politely and apologetically cleaned up her pooch's spoils. Shit happens (pun not intended until pun made itself known, at which point pun was celebrated and raised to the heavens for praise).
I just sat down with my first coffee of the day, and am startled by the likeness in flavor to my Uncle Albert and Aunt Dele's house circa 1985...rather, the smell of the taste. If I had any ambition whatsoever, I'd study how smell and taste combine and switch off where memory is concerned. I bet it's fascinating stuff. I would think that tastes such as homemade baked beans and Canadian mints would be my tongue's memory-trigger. Or cherry 7-Up. Instead, it's a combination of Avon products, carpet sweepers, and age. Age tastes a little stale, in case you were wondering. But the chocolate non-dairy creamer really steps it up.
Things have been fairly dull. The turnaround at work is impressively high, with two more of the new hires leaving for assorted reasons. Other than being the only job I can hold in walking distance, I have a feeling that Tami would have a meltdown if I were to give notice. Not that I don't think about it daily. But she's getting one day off per week at best already, and I'm still her only other closer. I wish I hated Tami, because I wouldn't feel like I owed her any help I could give. We did get word that the former managers of Jay and Farmington Movie Galleries are coming back to the company. They can't go back to their original stores, so they're switching places. It'll be nice to have people who don't need to train in the store, but it also means that if we do move up two revenue classes next quarter, I'm no longer the most likely candidate for Assistant Store Manager. Again, it's not my dream job, but I'd be full time and have benefits...nice things for a job I can walk to. Well, I would've. I'll be hovering around minimum wage for the duration of my MG employ. (did I use "employ" right? it sounds smart enough to me, so i'm going with it.)
I don't do much other than work and watch television. I need a hobby, so I have other things to write about. Felicity hasn't been on for the last week and a half, but the DVR says it's starting back up soon.. What the dilly, We?? I'm hoping we're still blessed with way too many channels in March. (HBO = THE SOPRANOS!)
I'm exhausting, hmm? I'll wrap it up. First, though, I'll tell you that Corpse Bride is quite good. I'll also tell you that though I can't vouch for the film's quality, I learned a lot about Enron from the new documentary that came out this week. Let me just say, poor Gray Davis! The extent of the corruption was far greater than I could've imagined. And In Her Shoes is just as sisterly-lovey as I wanted it to be, while managing to be a completely different movie than anticipated.
I just sat down with my first coffee of the day, and am startled by the likeness in flavor to my Uncle Albert and Aunt Dele's house circa 1985...rather, the smell of the taste. If I had any ambition whatsoever, I'd study how smell and taste combine and switch off where memory is concerned. I bet it's fascinating stuff. I would think that tastes such as homemade baked beans and Canadian mints would be my tongue's memory-trigger. Or cherry 7-Up. Instead, it's a combination of Avon products, carpet sweepers, and age. Age tastes a little stale, in case you were wondering. But the chocolate non-dairy creamer really steps it up.
Things have been fairly dull. The turnaround at work is impressively high, with two more of the new hires leaving for assorted reasons. Other than being the only job I can hold in walking distance, I have a feeling that Tami would have a meltdown if I were to give notice. Not that I don't think about it daily. But she's getting one day off per week at best already, and I'm still her only other closer. I wish I hated Tami, because I wouldn't feel like I owed her any help I could give. We did get word that the former managers of Jay and Farmington Movie Galleries are coming back to the company. They can't go back to their original stores, so they're switching places. It'll be nice to have people who don't need to train in the store, but it also means that if we do move up two revenue classes next quarter, I'm no longer the most likely candidate for Assistant Store Manager. Again, it's not my dream job, but I'd be full time and have benefits...nice things for a job I can walk to. Well, I would've. I'll be hovering around minimum wage for the duration of my MG employ. (did I use "employ" right? it sounds smart enough to me, so i'm going with it.)
I don't do much other than work and watch television. I need a hobby, so I have other things to write about. Felicity hasn't been on for the last week and a half, but the DVR says it's starting back up soon.. What the dilly, We?? I'm hoping we're still blessed with way too many channels in March. (HBO = THE SOPRANOS!)
I'm exhausting, hmm? I'll wrap it up. First, though, I'll tell you that Corpse Bride is quite good. I'll also tell you that though I can't vouch for the film's quality, I learned a lot about Enron from the new documentary that came out this week. Let me just say, poor Gray Davis! The extent of the corruption was far greater than I could've imagined. And In Her Shoes is just as sisterly-lovey as I wanted it to be, while managing to be a completely different movie than anticipated.
17 January 2006
this year, i am resolute!
Every new year I start off with a short, non-specific list of resolutions which I subsequently abandon by start-of-day January 2nd. With this year feeling figuratively bigger and potentially better than any other, I wanted to do my resolutions right. So by drastically overthinking each one, and getting myself out of the timeframe where 98% of the population falters, I'm a step closer to guaranteeing success. Potentially.
1) Eat healthier.
This one was not a conscious decision, but moreso my body screaming for nutrients not attained by a constant diet of coffee and hot dogs. It was early in the month still when I saw a character on television eating a grapefruit, and immediately wanted one. Not an "oh, a grapefruit might be tasty!" sane kind of wanting, but an angry, desperate desire. There was yelling at no one in particular about how Hannaford closes at 9:00, thusly denying citrus fruits to the community as a whole. A few days later, I strode purposefully away from the candy aisle to attain prices and availability of veggie platters. I've historically been minerally abusive to my body. This sudden craving for fresh produce is my subconscious last-ditch effort to get right with itself before I turn 30, and everything starts going downhill. It's like my body is a bomb shelter, and there's a nuclear war coming, but I'm still dangerously low on canned goods and Tang.
2) Exercise.
When dirty jeans have a just-washed fit, one begins to realize they're losing the battle. I thought I had this one beat last year, because I purchased DVDs of Pilates. Couple the fact that pilates are EXTREMELY hard and not fun with my intense dislike of Mari Winsor, and you'll be as unsurprised as I am that the exercise resolution last year derailed itself within a week. This resolution is deceptively tricky, and the results depend heavily on the success of my other resolutions. Luckily, I'm pretty gung-ho about the other ones, so hopefully exercise will work itself out. And walking is easy enough when the temperature's right.
3) Read 50 books this year.
I never would've thought to set a number, but since everyone and their uncle is doing the 50 books list, it seems like a worthy goal. I'm off to a horrendous start, what with January being half over, and no way to get to the library. Reading books I own feels like cheating. Not that we don't have a slew of very shitty literature in the attic, the remnants of our Library Book Sale expeditions. Beggars can't be choosers. I'll probably rummage through them later. I just won't share the list next year.
4) Set a leg shaving schedule.
Sorry, people who don't care. It's a resolution. Right now I'm averaging twice a year, and that's just not going to work anymore. I'm extremely lazy, and don't like to exert effort. Showers are exhausting enough before having to worry about the acrobatics that go into leg shaving. Don't expect me to stand in a tub full of water on one leg while wielding a sharp object and not come out seriously injured. I'm just not that gifted. And you couldn't pay me to try waxing my legs. I attempted that once, and am of the opinion that waxing is punishment for sinners. Hell is full of silky-smooth, baby-soft demons. So this year, I'm going to step up to the plate, and vow to set a regular schedule. How regular will depend on various factors that I won't trouble anyone with, but at least once a month? Maybe?
That's all for 2006. I'm not going to overwhelm myself. The four resolutions I've got here are basic, but tricky enough for this year. Next year I'll branch out, be a little more creative and adventurous. Or I'll try these ones again. Because I'm not out the woods yet - I've got 11 1/2 months left to fail.
1) Eat healthier.
This one was not a conscious decision, but moreso my body screaming for nutrients not attained by a constant diet of coffee and hot dogs. It was early in the month still when I saw a character on television eating a grapefruit, and immediately wanted one. Not an "oh, a grapefruit might be tasty!" sane kind of wanting, but an angry, desperate desire. There was yelling at no one in particular about how Hannaford closes at 9:00, thusly denying citrus fruits to the community as a whole. A few days later, I strode purposefully away from the candy aisle to attain prices and availability of veggie platters. I've historically been minerally abusive to my body. This sudden craving for fresh produce is my subconscious last-ditch effort to get right with itself before I turn 30, and everything starts going downhill. It's like my body is a bomb shelter, and there's a nuclear war coming, but I'm still dangerously low on canned goods and Tang.
2) Exercise.
When dirty jeans have a just-washed fit, one begins to realize they're losing the battle. I thought I had this one beat last year, because I purchased DVDs of Pilates. Couple the fact that pilates are EXTREMELY hard and not fun with my intense dislike of Mari Winsor, and you'll be as unsurprised as I am that the exercise resolution last year derailed itself within a week. This resolution is deceptively tricky, and the results depend heavily on the success of my other resolutions. Luckily, I'm pretty gung-ho about the other ones, so hopefully exercise will work itself out. And walking is easy enough when the temperature's right.
3) Read 50 books this year.
I never would've thought to set a number, but since everyone and their uncle is doing the 50 books list, it seems like a worthy goal. I'm off to a horrendous start, what with January being half over, and no way to get to the library. Reading books I own feels like cheating. Not that we don't have a slew of very shitty literature in the attic, the remnants of our Library Book Sale expeditions. Beggars can't be choosers. I'll probably rummage through them later. I just won't share the list next year.
4) Set a leg shaving schedule.
Sorry, people who don't care. It's a resolution. Right now I'm averaging twice a year, and that's just not going to work anymore. I'm extremely lazy, and don't like to exert effort. Showers are exhausting enough before having to worry about the acrobatics that go into leg shaving. Don't expect me to stand in a tub full of water on one leg while wielding a sharp object and not come out seriously injured. I'm just not that gifted. And you couldn't pay me to try waxing my legs. I attempted that once, and am of the opinion that waxing is punishment for sinners. Hell is full of silky-smooth, baby-soft demons. So this year, I'm going to step up to the plate, and vow to set a regular schedule. How regular will depend on various factors that I won't trouble anyone with, but at least once a month? Maybe?
That's all for 2006. I'm not going to overwhelm myself. The four resolutions I've got here are basic, but tricky enough for this year. Next year I'll branch out, be a little more creative and adventurous. Or I'll try these ones again. Because I'm not out the woods yet - I've got 11 1/2 months left to fail.
14 January 2006
two evils
Friday the 13th and the full moon.
Two things I generally pay little attention to. Sure, I'll pretend like it affects my life in some way/shape/form. Separately.
Together, they pack a powerful, damaging punch.
Here's the list:
-fell down (not just a stumble, but WIPED OUT!) twice. In my house.
-accidentally kicked the radio. hard. there was blood.
-was unable to turn my head to the left, or even suggest the left as a viable directional option.
-discovered a crack in my windshield.
-was pulled over because the officer thought my exhaust might have a leak. he then discovered that i don't have insurance or an inspection sticker. was ticketed, might lose my license...yar. (we were coming back from cumberland farms, having just picked up our dinner.)
I didn't know about the full moon until 6:00 last night. If I had, I would've called out sick, and stayed home, wrapped tightly in a blanket, curled up in the fetal position in the darkest corner of the attic.
Two things I generally pay little attention to. Sure, I'll pretend like it affects my life in some way/shape/form. Separately.
Together, they pack a powerful, damaging punch.
Here's the list:
-fell down (not just a stumble, but WIPED OUT!) twice. In my house.
-accidentally kicked the radio. hard. there was blood.
-was unable to turn my head to the left, or even suggest the left as a viable directional option.
-discovered a crack in my windshield.
-was pulled over because the officer thought my exhaust might have a leak. he then discovered that i don't have insurance or an inspection sticker. was ticketed, might lose my license...yar. (we were coming back from cumberland farms, having just picked up our dinner.)
I didn't know about the full moon until 6:00 last night. If I had, I would've called out sick, and stayed home, wrapped tightly in a blanket, curled up in the fetal position in the darkest corner of the attic.
06 January 2006
book list '05
Only after reading Jim's blog did I realize that my 2005 Book List is done. I had hoped to squeeze a few more titles in, with the hopes of making it longer and smarter-looking. But what can I do now? Submit it. I didn't follow the whole 50 books list concept the way others did. I didn't write anything about the books I read. Which is why I'll attempt a sentence or two here. Because I've got nothing but time today.
Let me acknowledge and thank the Seattle Public Library for a large chunk of these titles, and also thanks to the Jay-Niles Memorial Library. A lot of fun for a little library.
And now, in chronological order:
1. MY LIFE IN HIGH HEELS by Loni Anderson
Very clear that she's trying to clear up the lies that spawned from her very public, very messy divorce from Burt Reynolds, this proved to be an interesting read. She comes off as down-to-earth, and very likeable. I learned that she totally nailed Gary Sandy for two years during WKRP in Cincinnatti (which surprised me, because I always took him for a Jan Smithers-type).
2. GRACIE: A LOVE STORY by George Burns
George Burns is old and sweet and loved his wife. I mean, he was old and sweet and loved his wife. Well-written. I finished this book in a day.
3. A SERIOUS PERSON by Orland Outland
I was surprised by this one. Always kind of a sucker for what I'd describe as the novelization of a gay romantic comedy, Orland Outland combines the stuff that makes for the best beach reads with issues and sentiments that force your brain into gear. Very much worth the mocking I endured (I will admit, the covers scream "fluffy love book").
4. MY WIFE AND MY DEAD WIFE by Michael Kun
I have a hard time when a book ends unsatisfactorily. By unsatisfactorily, I mean not the way I wanted it to end. It was a good book that I enjoyed almost all the way through. I enjoyed it enough to seek out his other book, which I didn't finish.
5. EVERY MAN FOR HIMSELF by Orland Outland
Notice that? One book between the two Orland Outland novels? That was intentional. I thought it'd look obsessive if I read them back-to-back. Again, there were guilty pleasure aspects, some stuff that almost didn't work, but was generally validated by the end. And more issues and thinking! I started noticing the pattern in this one. The hard-hitting stuff starts readily presenting itself about 3/4ths of the way through. He doesn't want to beat you over the head with his opinions, but he wants to make sure you're thoroughly sucked in before serving up his opinions on culture and society. This took no more than a weekend.
6. ORACLE NIGHT by Paul Auster
I consider Paul Auster to be my most worthwhile discovery of 2005. I picked this one up randomly, because the cover seemed mysterious. And with a title like "Oracle Night", I was willing to try it. And it was every bit worth it. He relies on footnotes in this book, but he rarely abuses it. I didn't get to read any of his other books this year. Seattle Public Library had one other title, and I didn't get a chance to read it (I owe SPL money for it, actually). And Jay has none of Paul Auster's books.
7. THE TIME TRAVELER'S WIFE by Nina Niffenegger
Not exactly the kind of book I read, it's overly lovey. But it wasn't bad. I didn't dislike it. After reading it, it started appearing on lists, so I was glad that I read something people are talking about.
8. LITTLE CHILDREN by Tom Perrotta
This is the first Tom Perrotta book I've actually read. It was great. I'll leave it at that.
9. DEATH WORE A SMART LITTLE OUTFIT by Orland Outland
I looked Orland Outland up on the internet after reading and enjoying two of his novels. It was then I learned that he had written a series of Doan-and-Binky mysteries. Not sure what that meant, I was still desperate to locate one, if not all of them. No luck with Seattle Public Library. I struck gold randomly at Half-Price Books in Lynnwood. I bought this for $1. I was somewhat disappointed by it. I eventually sold it. The concept still amuses me, and I can't say I'm not tempted to try the second book of the series. First books, like series pilots, are a little clunky, and overly introductory. Maybe it gets better? I'm not holding my breath.
10. P IS FOR PERIL by Sue Grafton
This is the first mystery writer (other than your Agatha Christies or Sir Arthur Conan Doyles) who hasn't horrified me with terrible writing. She weaves a nice web, and doesn't try to be too clever. This was another $1 book I bought in Lynnwood, drawn by the name after seeing it on Jim's list. Thanks for sharing, Jim!
11. THE BEST LAID PLANS by Sidney Sheldon
Terrible book. I loved every minute of it.
12. G IS FOR GUMSHOE by Sue Grafton
Still good.
13. SUMMER SISTERS by Judy Blume
I'm continually conflicted by Judy Blume's "adult" novels. I don't mean Wifey adult, but you know. Aimed at grown-ups. I was sucked into this book, but I didn't necessarily like it. It had its moments. It was a little risque (if that's how you spell it? risk-AY!). Very L-I-T-E lite read. Or this: I enjoyed it, but didn't like it.
14. MAGICAL THINKING by Augusten Burroughs
I've actually read this book in its entirety three times this year alone. And once last year, right after purchasing it. There are few authors who can write autobiographically-based short stories and end with me desperately wanting to befriend them. Jeremy was quick to point out that no way in hell would Augusten Burroughs be able to tolerate me. He's not wrong. But I can dream, can't I?
15. J IS FOR JUDGEMENT by Sue Grafton
Seriously, it's just the thing sometimes. A good mystery. She doesn't beg you to solve it, she just takes you along for the ride.
16. R IS FOR RICOCHET by Sue Grafton
It was July. We were unemployed and staying with Jeremy's parents. His mother and I handed these off to each other as soon as we were finished with them.
17. RUNNING WITH SCISSORS by Augusten Burroughs
This guy is amazing.
18. DRY by Augusten Burroughs
I read Running With Scissors in a day, then immediately followed it up with Dry. It's totally the way to read these. One of my re-reads of Magical Thinking came immediately after I was done with this one...it makes it even more powerful.
19. A IS FOR ALIBI by Sue Grafton
I was worried about reading the first book of the series after already reading later installments. But this title was pretty solid.
20. EATS, SHOOTS AND LEAVES by Lynne Truss
The funniest punctuation and grammar book you'll ever read!!! I'm constantly afraid of boo-boos as a result. I appreciate her appreciation, and can stand even less to be exposed to anything involving the movie Two Weeks' Notice.
21. BOOKENDS by Jane Green
Eh. Two words: Chick Lit.
22. THE SEVEN SPIRITUAL LAWS OF SUCCESS by Deepak Chopra
The first and probably the last Deepak Chopra book I'll ever read. Not that it wasn't interesting. But it almost feels a little too self-helpy to enjoy. A lot of the concepts are the same as polarity, which was interesting and familiar.
23. A LONG WAY DOWN by Nick Hornby
Not his best book, but I enjoyed it enough. It'd probably make a better movie. I couldn't cast it in my head though. I'm open to suggestions if anyone else has read this.
24. LIFE OF PI by Yann Martel
Once you get through the first 30-50 pages, you will not put the book down. I desperately need to think about the book, but I don't want what I think is the case to BE the case. I can't be clear without ruining the book. I love it, and fear that thinking about it too hard will only depress me.
25. THE FIVE PEOPLE YOU MEET IN HEAVEN by Mitch Albom
I was curious, okay??? It wasn't as awful as I thought it would be.
26. FRIED GREEN TOMATOES AT THE WHISTLE STOP CAFE by Fannie Flagg
I daresay, without having previously read any of her books, I have underestimated Fannie Flagg. I think I've already used the phrase "weave a web" somewhere in this list, but she does. And it's charming. And good. And I didn't want it to end.
27. ME TALK PRETTY ONE DAY by David Sedaris
I've read this several times. I banged it out again on the flight to California. After I finished, I started reading Magical Thinking again.
Twenty-seven books. It felt like more, looked like less... it averages out. Cable has been my downfall. I did nothing but read before we got television hooked up. This year will be different. I've still got access to a decent library. It's not huge, but it's got variety. It's better than Portland Public Library, I can tell you that!
That was kind of fun. I can't speak for you, dear reader. But I had a good time.
Let me acknowledge and thank the Seattle Public Library for a large chunk of these titles, and also thanks to the Jay-Niles Memorial Library. A lot of fun for a little library.
And now, in chronological order:
1. MY LIFE IN HIGH HEELS by Loni Anderson
Very clear that she's trying to clear up the lies that spawned from her very public, very messy divorce from Burt Reynolds, this proved to be an interesting read. She comes off as down-to-earth, and very likeable. I learned that she totally nailed Gary Sandy for two years during WKRP in Cincinnatti (which surprised me, because I always took him for a Jan Smithers-type).
2. GRACIE: A LOVE STORY by George Burns
George Burns is old and sweet and loved his wife. I mean, he was old and sweet and loved his wife. Well-written. I finished this book in a day.
3. A SERIOUS PERSON by Orland Outland
I was surprised by this one. Always kind of a sucker for what I'd describe as the novelization of a gay romantic comedy, Orland Outland combines the stuff that makes for the best beach reads with issues and sentiments that force your brain into gear. Very much worth the mocking I endured (I will admit, the covers scream "fluffy love book").
4. MY WIFE AND MY DEAD WIFE by Michael Kun
I have a hard time when a book ends unsatisfactorily. By unsatisfactorily, I mean not the way I wanted it to end. It was a good book that I enjoyed almost all the way through. I enjoyed it enough to seek out his other book, which I didn't finish.
5. EVERY MAN FOR HIMSELF by Orland Outland
Notice that? One book between the two Orland Outland novels? That was intentional. I thought it'd look obsessive if I read them back-to-back. Again, there were guilty pleasure aspects, some stuff that almost didn't work, but was generally validated by the end. And more issues and thinking! I started noticing the pattern in this one. The hard-hitting stuff starts readily presenting itself about 3/4ths of the way through. He doesn't want to beat you over the head with his opinions, but he wants to make sure you're thoroughly sucked in before serving up his opinions on culture and society. This took no more than a weekend.
6. ORACLE NIGHT by Paul Auster
I consider Paul Auster to be my most worthwhile discovery of 2005. I picked this one up randomly, because the cover seemed mysterious. And with a title like "Oracle Night", I was willing to try it. And it was every bit worth it. He relies on footnotes in this book, but he rarely abuses it. I didn't get to read any of his other books this year. Seattle Public Library had one other title, and I didn't get a chance to read it (I owe SPL money for it, actually). And Jay has none of Paul Auster's books.
7. THE TIME TRAVELER'S WIFE by Nina Niffenegger
Not exactly the kind of book I read, it's overly lovey. But it wasn't bad. I didn't dislike it. After reading it, it started appearing on lists, so I was glad that I read something people are talking about.
8. LITTLE CHILDREN by Tom Perrotta
This is the first Tom Perrotta book I've actually read. It was great. I'll leave it at that.
9. DEATH WORE A SMART LITTLE OUTFIT by Orland Outland
I looked Orland Outland up on the internet after reading and enjoying two of his novels. It was then I learned that he had written a series of Doan-and-Binky mysteries. Not sure what that meant, I was still desperate to locate one, if not all of them. No luck with Seattle Public Library. I struck gold randomly at Half-Price Books in Lynnwood. I bought this for $1. I was somewhat disappointed by it. I eventually sold it. The concept still amuses me, and I can't say I'm not tempted to try the second book of the series. First books, like series pilots, are a little clunky, and overly introductory. Maybe it gets better? I'm not holding my breath.
10. P IS FOR PERIL by Sue Grafton
This is the first mystery writer (other than your Agatha Christies or Sir Arthur Conan Doyles) who hasn't horrified me with terrible writing. She weaves a nice web, and doesn't try to be too clever. This was another $1 book I bought in Lynnwood, drawn by the name after seeing it on Jim's list. Thanks for sharing, Jim!
11. THE BEST LAID PLANS by Sidney Sheldon
Terrible book. I loved every minute of it.
12. G IS FOR GUMSHOE by Sue Grafton
Still good.
13. SUMMER SISTERS by Judy Blume
I'm continually conflicted by Judy Blume's "adult" novels. I don't mean Wifey adult, but you know. Aimed at grown-ups. I was sucked into this book, but I didn't necessarily like it. It had its moments. It was a little risque (if that's how you spell it? risk-AY!). Very L-I-T-E lite read. Or this: I enjoyed it, but didn't like it.
14. MAGICAL THINKING by Augusten Burroughs
I've actually read this book in its entirety three times this year alone. And once last year, right after purchasing it. There are few authors who can write autobiographically-based short stories and end with me desperately wanting to befriend them. Jeremy was quick to point out that no way in hell would Augusten Burroughs be able to tolerate me. He's not wrong. But I can dream, can't I?
15. J IS FOR JUDGEMENT by Sue Grafton
Seriously, it's just the thing sometimes. A good mystery. She doesn't beg you to solve it, she just takes you along for the ride.
16. R IS FOR RICOCHET by Sue Grafton
It was July. We were unemployed and staying with Jeremy's parents. His mother and I handed these off to each other as soon as we were finished with them.
17. RUNNING WITH SCISSORS by Augusten Burroughs
This guy is amazing.
18. DRY by Augusten Burroughs
I read Running With Scissors in a day, then immediately followed it up with Dry. It's totally the way to read these. One of my re-reads of Magical Thinking came immediately after I was done with this one...it makes it even more powerful.
19. A IS FOR ALIBI by Sue Grafton
I was worried about reading the first book of the series after already reading later installments. But this title was pretty solid.
20. EATS, SHOOTS AND LEAVES by Lynne Truss
The funniest punctuation and grammar book you'll ever read!!! I'm constantly afraid of boo-boos as a result. I appreciate her appreciation, and can stand even less to be exposed to anything involving the movie Two Weeks' Notice.
21. BOOKENDS by Jane Green
Eh. Two words: Chick Lit.
22. THE SEVEN SPIRITUAL LAWS OF SUCCESS by Deepak Chopra
The first and probably the last Deepak Chopra book I'll ever read. Not that it wasn't interesting. But it almost feels a little too self-helpy to enjoy. A lot of the concepts are the same as polarity, which was interesting and familiar.
23. A LONG WAY DOWN by Nick Hornby
Not his best book, but I enjoyed it enough. It'd probably make a better movie. I couldn't cast it in my head though. I'm open to suggestions if anyone else has read this.
24. LIFE OF PI by Yann Martel
Once you get through the first 30-50 pages, you will not put the book down. I desperately need to think about the book, but I don't want what I think is the case to BE the case. I can't be clear without ruining the book. I love it, and fear that thinking about it too hard will only depress me.
25. THE FIVE PEOPLE YOU MEET IN HEAVEN by Mitch Albom
I was curious, okay??? It wasn't as awful as I thought it would be.
26. FRIED GREEN TOMATOES AT THE WHISTLE STOP CAFE by Fannie Flagg
I daresay, without having previously read any of her books, I have underestimated Fannie Flagg. I think I've already used the phrase "weave a web" somewhere in this list, but she does. And it's charming. And good. And I didn't want it to end.
27. ME TALK PRETTY ONE DAY by David Sedaris
I've read this several times. I banged it out again on the flight to California. After I finished, I started reading Magical Thinking again.
Twenty-seven books. It felt like more, looked like less... it averages out. Cable has been my downfall. I did nothing but read before we got television hooked up. This year will be different. I've still got access to a decent library. It's not huge, but it's got variety. It's better than Portland Public Library, I can tell you that!
That was kind of fun. I can't speak for you, dear reader. But I had a good time.
05 January 2006
TV loves 2006
2005 is done. And I have yet to correctly write the correct year on any document. It wasn't this hard last year. Actually, the transition from '04 to '05 was extremely easy. Instead of looking at is as age-related memory loss, I'll take it as an omen. The trickier the changeover, the better the year will be. I've got nothing to complain about as of yet.
We had invitations to Portland and Millinocket for the New Year, which would've been fine if I didn't open the video store New Year's Day. We went to the home of some of our Jay friends, and had a pretty good time. I was the DD, so I cut myself off after my second cider jack (no drunkenness, but still ended up sick the next morning. what a terrible drink!).
I'm getting used to being stranded at the apartment. I'm better about keeping myself entertained. A lot of it centers around podcasts (The Ricky Gervais Show!!!!) and playing Chuzzle for hours on end. It also involves a new TV show. New to me. Cancelled a couple years ago. I stumbled across the first episode of a marathon, and checked it out, purely out of curiosity. And proceeded to watch the marathon in its entirety. I now record the two episodes per day that air on the Women's Entertainment network. I'm not stalling. I'm not ashamed. It's Felicity.
That's right, Felicity. Keri Russell, Scott Speedman, Scott Foley, the pink power ranger ... I remember watching the pilot when it first aired, and not hating it. But then sometimes, when you aren't immediately drawn by a show, you lose track of it, and suddenly you don't care anymore. That's what happpened. But talk about coming back with a vengeance! I stopped on the episode because noon isn't a hotbed of quality television programming. After being pulled in, I consulted the schedule and found that there was another episode coming up. And another. And then another. And I can't tell you I wasn't delighted (I could, but it'd be a big fat lie). I sat on the couch for six hours, watching the Felicity marathon (the last six episodes of the final season!). I was still unshowered and in pajamas 15 minutes prior to Jeremy's arrival home that day. Allow me to say I'm not obsessed with this show, though everything I just typed probably argues the opposite. It's a very good show. But it doesn't come close to touching on the brilliance of the first several seasons of Ally McBeal. Or Northern Exposure. Surely not Gilmore Girls either. Though I have cried at Felicity three times since I've started watching. And in researching Felicity on the internet (yes, shut up.) I've found a lot of creative links to Alias, House, and Scrubs. I already enjoy Scrubs, and this encourages me to give the other two shows a try. It's the best way to find new shows. After I had become addicted to Gilmore Girls, I learned about all the incestuous creative commonalities between it and Family Guy. The writers! The producers! The actors! I was surprised, and equally not surprised. Great shows hide well in the sea of crap that makes up most of television these days. You've got to dig deep to find worthwhile options. Because when television is good, it's truly great. And when it's bad, it's devastating.
Jeremy took overtime this week, so he's been working 9-7. His check is going to be one of silk, written out in gold ink. It also means that on days off (which now fall every other day, thanks to not being able to work over 20 hours anymore), I'm here alone from 7:30a.m. until just after 8:00p.m. It's not as long as I expected it to feel. I'm a first-rate putterer. Only a fourth-class tidier, but I'm working on it.
We had invitations to Portland and Millinocket for the New Year, which would've been fine if I didn't open the video store New Year's Day. We went to the home of some of our Jay friends, and had a pretty good time. I was the DD, so I cut myself off after my second cider jack (no drunkenness, but still ended up sick the next morning. what a terrible drink!).
I'm getting used to being stranded at the apartment. I'm better about keeping myself entertained. A lot of it centers around podcasts (The Ricky Gervais Show!!!!) and playing Chuzzle for hours on end. It also involves a new TV show. New to me. Cancelled a couple years ago. I stumbled across the first episode of a marathon, and checked it out, purely out of curiosity. And proceeded to watch the marathon in its entirety. I now record the two episodes per day that air on the Women's Entertainment network. I'm not stalling. I'm not ashamed. It's Felicity.
That's right, Felicity. Keri Russell, Scott Speedman, Scott Foley, the pink power ranger ... I remember watching the pilot when it first aired, and not hating it. But then sometimes, when you aren't immediately drawn by a show, you lose track of it, and suddenly you don't care anymore. That's what happpened. But talk about coming back with a vengeance! I stopped on the episode because noon isn't a hotbed of quality television programming. After being pulled in, I consulted the schedule and found that there was another episode coming up. And another. And then another. And I can't tell you I wasn't delighted (I could, but it'd be a big fat lie). I sat on the couch for six hours, watching the Felicity marathon (the last six episodes of the final season!). I was still unshowered and in pajamas 15 minutes prior to Jeremy's arrival home that day. Allow me to say I'm not obsessed with this show, though everything I just typed probably argues the opposite. It's a very good show. But it doesn't come close to touching on the brilliance of the first several seasons of Ally McBeal. Or Northern Exposure. Surely not Gilmore Girls either. Though I have cried at Felicity three times since I've started watching. And in researching Felicity on the internet (yes, shut up.) I've found a lot of creative links to Alias, House, and Scrubs. I already enjoy Scrubs, and this encourages me to give the other two shows a try. It's the best way to find new shows. After I had become addicted to Gilmore Girls, I learned about all the incestuous creative commonalities between it and Family Guy. The writers! The producers! The actors! I was surprised, and equally not surprised. Great shows hide well in the sea of crap that makes up most of television these days. You've got to dig deep to find worthwhile options. Because when television is good, it's truly great. And when it's bad, it's devastating.
Jeremy took overtime this week, so he's been working 9-7. His check is going to be one of silk, written out in gold ink. It also means that on days off (which now fall every other day, thanks to not being able to work over 20 hours anymore), I'm here alone from 7:30a.m. until just after 8:00p.m. It's not as long as I expected it to feel. I'm a first-rate putterer. Only a fourth-class tidier, but I'm working on it.
31 December 2005
play on?
Things are changing at the Jay Movie Gallery.
I'm pretty sure I mentioned before the likelihood of our store going up a revenue class, resulting in a promotion for me, with benefits and more hours and a higher wage. You know. All the stuff that goes with a promotion.
Change of plans.
As of last night, we're going DOWN a revenue class. So not only will I not be getting a promotion any time soon, but everyone will be getting fewer hours. If I, in a given week, am scheduled for 20 hours or more, Tami will be written up. Already the effects are being felt. I'm working 19 hours next week. And to make matters worse, Anna gave her notice. To keep me under 20 hours, she's bringin in MODs from Farmington to help out. Because I can't be overworked. And no one else on staff can open and close the store yet.
I need to find a different job.
If I look in the Lewiston/Auburn area, then I could commute with Jeremy, making the one-car issue a non-issue. That would involve finding a similar shift though. But then once we get a second vehicle, we're both fueling up twice a week, which is costly. And moving is a pain in the ass. If we scale back to one move a year, I'd be happy.
I hate when plans fall through. Seriously. I should be starting school, which would've made less work acceptable (since financial aid would fill in the gap left from wages unearned). And though Jeremy's got a decent job now, I don't want him to have to support us. We should be buying electronics and junk food with the surplus! Or saving up for something fun. I haven't given that aspect much thought. But I'm drifting from the point. Actually, I think I'm done with the point.
We bought chocolate non-dairy creamer yesterday. VERY VERY WORTHWHILE PURCHASE! It's like drinking a mocha, but without the extra effort. Coffee like candy makes Annie's a shiny happy New Year!
I'm pretty sure I mentioned before the likelihood of our store going up a revenue class, resulting in a promotion for me, with benefits and more hours and a higher wage. You know. All the stuff that goes with a promotion.
Change of plans.
As of last night, we're going DOWN a revenue class. So not only will I not be getting a promotion any time soon, but everyone will be getting fewer hours. If I, in a given week, am scheduled for 20 hours or more, Tami will be written up. Already the effects are being felt. I'm working 19 hours next week. And to make matters worse, Anna gave her notice. To keep me under 20 hours, she's bringin in MODs from Farmington to help out. Because I can't be overworked. And no one else on staff can open and close the store yet.
I need to find a different job.
If I look in the Lewiston/Auburn area, then I could commute with Jeremy, making the one-car issue a non-issue. That would involve finding a similar shift though. But then once we get a second vehicle, we're both fueling up twice a week, which is costly. And moving is a pain in the ass. If we scale back to one move a year, I'd be happy.
I hate when plans fall through. Seriously. I should be starting school, which would've made less work acceptable (since financial aid would fill in the gap left from wages unearned). And though Jeremy's got a decent job now, I don't want him to have to support us. We should be buying electronics and junk food with the surplus! Or saving up for something fun. I haven't given that aspect much thought. But I'm drifting from the point. Actually, I think I'm done with the point.
We bought chocolate non-dairy creamer yesterday. VERY VERY WORTHWHILE PURCHASE! It's like drinking a mocha, but without the extra effort. Coffee like candy makes Annie's a shiny happy New Year!
27 December 2005
2005 holiday roundup
'Twas a unique holiday, for certain.
Two weeks prior to Christmas, I received a call from Peter (that's my brother-in-law, in case anyone forgot), saying that he and Lorrie were coming to Maine to surprise everyone for Christmas. And that they needed to be picked up from Portland Jetport at 11:29 P.M. Christmas Eve. And could I possibly do it? Turns out I could! So Christmas Eve we went to Portland to pick up Lorrie and Peter, and immediately drove to Springvale from there, to surprise my mother. We arrived just after midnight. We pounded on the door, and rang the bell as obnoxiously as you would imagine my sister and I are capable of. Mom opened the door, and immediately started crying. Success! From there, their plan was to abduct Mom and make her bring Lorrie and Peter to Milford, to surprise Peter's parents. 30 minutes after arrival, that's exactly what they did. Mom offered the house to us so we could sleep before I had to work tomorrow, but we figured it'd be less hassle to drive back that night. We got to Jay sometime after 3:00 A.M., and went to bed.
Then GOOD MORNING, CHRISTMAS! I was scheduled to work from 3-6. Our plan for the morning and evening otherwise was to watch Dallas all day. But our precious gift from Adelphia changed all that. See, we paid off our cable last week, and I decided to downgrade our service to regular cable, but add DVR as a treat. It was still $35 cheaper per month. Anyway! We exchanged our digital box for a DVR box on the 23rd. Upon hooking it up, we got a surprise: every channel. The regular 80-channel cable we're paying for, PLUS all the digital channels, and every premium channel you can think of! And the ability to record programs off all of them!! We knew that this magnificent gift from god wasn't going to last, that Adelphia would get hip to their boo-boo by the time offices re-opened on the 27th. So we have been recording movies, shows, specials, shit we don't plan to watch, shit we should watch but will become bored with... so Christmas Day was the first day we enjoyed our cable booty. Straight Talk, Cooley High, and the entire season of Breaking Bonaduce. We watched a Christmas special about Christmas specials off of Trio, and 'Twas the Night Before Christmas (the one with the mice who sing the song "you (something), and I'll (something else)"). We've got a bunch of stuff waiting to be watched, like Sleepaway Camp 2 and 3, Ninja III: The Domination, a special about the "Big Dig", Polyester, Rhinestone, Cutter's Way, not to mention a spattering of series subscriptions. Not to mention the stuff that's not here yet (like the biography of Patrick Swayze!). Stuff that will filter in every hour, on the hour. I'm exhausted with glee and satisfaction. We had an equally satisfying, though slightly overpriced meal of macaroni and cheese with red hot dogs sliced into it for Christmas dinner, courtesy of Cumberland Farms, the only other establishment other than Movie Gallery that was open in Jay that day.
Jeremy had the 26th off, because he's got the kind of job now that gives him days off for holidays even if the holiday doesn't fall on a work day. I had to open that day, and it was a shift of projects and coffee-drinking. Tami and I got to hang out in the office most of the day and file paperwork, while Andrea ran a register. A perfect Monday. More television was watched. Hamburger Helper was prepared and eaten, with garlic bread and chewy Chips Ahoy! cookies. An enjoyable meal.
Today is back to business. It's our four year dating-aversary. Dataversary. Annadatingry. To celebrate, we will work at our jobs, and watch more of the beautiful television. Life is good.
Two weeks prior to Christmas, I received a call from Peter (that's my brother-in-law, in case anyone forgot), saying that he and Lorrie were coming to Maine to surprise everyone for Christmas. And that they needed to be picked up from Portland Jetport at 11:29 P.M. Christmas Eve. And could I possibly do it? Turns out I could! So Christmas Eve we went to Portland to pick up Lorrie and Peter, and immediately drove to Springvale from there, to surprise my mother. We arrived just after midnight. We pounded on the door, and rang the bell as obnoxiously as you would imagine my sister and I are capable of. Mom opened the door, and immediately started crying. Success! From there, their plan was to abduct Mom and make her bring Lorrie and Peter to Milford, to surprise Peter's parents. 30 minutes after arrival, that's exactly what they did. Mom offered the house to us so we could sleep before I had to work tomorrow, but we figured it'd be less hassle to drive back that night. We got to Jay sometime after 3:00 A.M., and went to bed.
Then GOOD MORNING, CHRISTMAS! I was scheduled to work from 3-6. Our plan for the morning and evening otherwise was to watch Dallas all day. But our precious gift from Adelphia changed all that. See, we paid off our cable last week, and I decided to downgrade our service to regular cable, but add DVR as a treat. It was still $35 cheaper per month. Anyway! We exchanged our digital box for a DVR box on the 23rd. Upon hooking it up, we got a surprise: every channel. The regular 80-channel cable we're paying for, PLUS all the digital channels, and every premium channel you can think of! And the ability to record programs off all of them!! We knew that this magnificent gift from god wasn't going to last, that Adelphia would get hip to their boo-boo by the time offices re-opened on the 27th. So we have been recording movies, shows, specials, shit we don't plan to watch, shit we should watch but will become bored with... so Christmas Day was the first day we enjoyed our cable booty. Straight Talk, Cooley High, and the entire season of Breaking Bonaduce. We watched a Christmas special about Christmas specials off of Trio, and 'Twas the Night Before Christmas (the one with the mice who sing the song "you (something), and I'll (something else)"). We've got a bunch of stuff waiting to be watched, like Sleepaway Camp 2 and 3, Ninja III: The Domination, a special about the "Big Dig", Polyester, Rhinestone, Cutter's Way, not to mention a spattering of series subscriptions. Not to mention the stuff that's not here yet (like the biography of Patrick Swayze!). Stuff that will filter in every hour, on the hour. I'm exhausted with glee and satisfaction. We had an equally satisfying, though slightly overpriced meal of macaroni and cheese with red hot dogs sliced into it for Christmas dinner, courtesy of Cumberland Farms, the only other establishment other than Movie Gallery that was open in Jay that day.
Jeremy had the 26th off, because he's got the kind of job now that gives him days off for holidays even if the holiday doesn't fall on a work day. I had to open that day, and it was a shift of projects and coffee-drinking. Tami and I got to hang out in the office most of the day and file paperwork, while Andrea ran a register. A perfect Monday. More television was watched. Hamburger Helper was prepared and eaten, with garlic bread and chewy Chips Ahoy! cookies. An enjoyable meal.
Today is back to business. It's our four year dating-aversary. Dataversary. Annadatingry. To celebrate, we will work at our jobs, and watch more of the beautiful television. Life is good.
17 December 2005
celebrating 100 pots!
*bells and whistles*
*streamers and candy*
This morning I'm making my 100th pot of coffee since we've been in Jay - it's the last filter in the pack. And we didn't use any of them for paper towels or napkins (which we tended to do every so often in Washington, cheapening the 100-pot victory).
This morning I'll watch The Exorcism of Emily Rose (coming to your local video store/internet movie list Tuesday!). When Jeremy gets home sometime after 2:00, we're going to go see a movie at the theater! No clue what yet. Probably King Kong or the Narnia film. Or who knows! I have no clue what else might be playing at a theater near me.
I've seen some terrible movies in the recent past. I can enthusiastically tell you to avoid Must Love Dogs (which I liken to a black hole) and Rebound (I will never understand how Martin Lawrence makes money). And if you happen upon the new Snoop Dogg vehicle BossNUp, immediately put the movie back where it was and call 911. In a word, I'd call it a musical. Given the luxury of an entire sentence fragment, I'd call it a huge letdown.
If you can find it, you should rent Saint Ralph. It's Canadian, and Campbell Scott is very Campbell Scotty in it. And it's one of my new favorite movies. I'm not vouching for cinematic whoozits and whatnots, because I was too busy being sucked in to the story. One or two of the scenes are unnecessary, but that won't effect the overall feel. It's funny and heartwarming and just good. Not that you asked, but still.
And Roll Bounce is worth watching.
I'm stopping here, at the risk of turning into Richard Roeper. *shudder*
*streamers and candy*
This morning I'm making my 100th pot of coffee since we've been in Jay - it's the last filter in the pack. And we didn't use any of them for paper towels or napkins (which we tended to do every so often in Washington, cheapening the 100-pot victory).
This morning I'll watch The Exorcism of Emily Rose (coming to your local video store/internet movie list Tuesday!). When Jeremy gets home sometime after 2:00, we're going to go see a movie at the theater! No clue what yet. Probably King Kong or the Narnia film. Or who knows! I have no clue what else might be playing at a theater near me.
I've seen some terrible movies in the recent past. I can enthusiastically tell you to avoid Must Love Dogs (which I liken to a black hole) and Rebound (I will never understand how Martin Lawrence makes money). And if you happen upon the new Snoop Dogg vehicle BossNUp, immediately put the movie back where it was and call 911. In a word, I'd call it a musical. Given the luxury of an entire sentence fragment, I'd call it a huge letdown.
If you can find it, you should rent Saint Ralph. It's Canadian, and Campbell Scott is very Campbell Scotty in it. And it's one of my new favorite movies. I'm not vouching for cinematic whoozits and whatnots, because I was too busy being sucked in to the story. One or two of the scenes are unnecessary, but that won't effect the overall feel. It's funny and heartwarming and just good. Not that you asked, but still.
And Roll Bounce is worth watching.
I'm stopping here, at the risk of turning into Richard Roeper. *shudder*
15 December 2005
christmas
There's a price one pays for gainful employment.
Jay Christmas, the stressfest that was scheduled to start this weekend, has been postponed indefinitely. Jeremy's new job involves extensive training...six weeks of it generally. Of course, since the company Jeremy works for is SO busy and doing SO good, they need people trained ASAP and have condensed the training into three weeks. Which means weekends. Which also means time-and-a-half this Saturday, as they had to spring it on everyone last-minute. But it also means that I would be left to tend to Christmas by myself. Between not being able to afford Christmas and not wanting family to spend the weekend at our apartment, we had no problem nixing the event. Jeremy's parents seemed relieved. My mother seemed disappointed.
So we'll maybe do something small and last-minute, which is perfectly okay by me. This isn't the year for a big ol' Christmas. Maybe a Dallas marathon, punctuated with egg nog and pizza. (that might be the first time I've ever written the word punctuated. I had to look it up to confirm the spelling. Thanks, www.dictionary.com!)
I just finished Al Franken's The Truth (with jokes). WOW! The second half will blow you away. Read it. If you have a chance, I mean. Sorry, I don't mean to dictate your actions. Please stop looking at me.
12 December 2005
home alone (no culkins in sight)
Jeremy is at work. At least I hope he's at work, having been able to clearly navigate the internet directions to his place of employment.
It's not that we entertain each other much most weekday mornings, but his lack of presence is duly noted, and I have no idea what to do with my day. I slept as long as was humanly possible (I got up at ten), provided that our inflatable bed is slowly dying (I woke up on the floor, surrounded by half-inflated bed parts...I was in the inflate-a-bed valley, if you will). So I finished writing about California (obviously, it's right there. I'm not telling you anything you don't already know), and am at a loss. Maybe I should watch a movie. Take a long shower. Jog in place a bit. I don't work until five. I could make a CD or something.
I AM SO BORED!!!
My birthday had more celebration to it than I would've anticipated. Emily threw a small get-together during our scheduled craft time (on Wednesday the 7th), and made mac 'n' cheese with hot dogs. She also supplied me with my first egg nog sullied by something other than coffee. Rum-pa-pum pum! It wasn't too bad really. It was maybe a little rummier than I was ready for, but I can see why festive merrymakers have deemed this a beverage of choice. I got to see some Portland pals, and it was good. We went to the Videoport Christmas Party from there, and had a pretty good time. I maintained my sobriety enough to drive back home afterward, as I had to be at Movie Gallery at 7:00 a.m. on Thursday. That was fun too, actually. Tami bought a box of coffee and a dozen doughnuts from Dunkin' Donuts. We scanned items and made merry. That night Jeremy and I each drank a bottle of champagne to start celebrating my birthday early (since I worked the night of the 9th). 4/5th of the way through the bottle, my mother called. I talked to her for 45 minutes, virtually without stress.
The ninth was the day Jeremy got official word on his employment status. That was a nice present.
Today's Monday. Jeremy has the car, and is at work, working, in Lewiston. He is earning a living wage, and we can pay bills soon.
I've got nothing, people. I am going to find something to do.
It's not that we entertain each other much most weekday mornings, but his lack of presence is duly noted, and I have no idea what to do with my day. I slept as long as was humanly possible (I got up at ten), provided that our inflatable bed is slowly dying (I woke up on the floor, surrounded by half-inflated bed parts...I was in the inflate-a-bed valley, if you will). So I finished writing about California (obviously, it's right there. I'm not telling you anything you don't already know), and am at a loss. Maybe I should watch a movie. Take a long shower. Jog in place a bit. I don't work until five. I could make a CD or something.
I AM SO BORED!!!
My birthday had more celebration to it than I would've anticipated. Emily threw a small get-together during our scheduled craft time (on Wednesday the 7th), and made mac 'n' cheese with hot dogs. She also supplied me with my first egg nog sullied by something other than coffee. Rum-pa-pum pum! It wasn't too bad really. It was maybe a little rummier than I was ready for, but I can see why festive merrymakers have deemed this a beverage of choice. I got to see some Portland pals, and it was good. We went to the Videoport Christmas Party from there, and had a pretty good time. I maintained my sobriety enough to drive back home afterward, as I had to be at Movie Gallery at 7:00 a.m. on Thursday. That was fun too, actually. Tami bought a box of coffee and a dozen doughnuts from Dunkin' Donuts. We scanned items and made merry. That night Jeremy and I each drank a bottle of champagne to start celebrating my birthday early (since I worked the night of the 9th). 4/5th of the way through the bottle, my mother called. I talked to her for 45 minutes, virtually without stress.
The ninth was the day Jeremy got official word on his employment status. That was a nice present.
Today's Monday. Jeremy has the car, and is at work, working, in Lewiston. He is earning a living wage, and we can pay bills soon.
I've got nothing, people. I am going to find something to do.
california, part 3: increasingly passionless narrative
Very quickly, as I've waited too long and no longer care about accurately recording the trip:
Saturday we went to Hobee's for breakfast. They gave me a continent-sized piece of coffee cake with my already well-balanced, food-intensive meal. I got about three bites in before hitting my limit. From there we went to the Rose Garden. San Jose has one, and it's really amazing if you care a lick about gardening. I recommend going in the spring. I took lots of pictures for my and Jeremy's moms, as they love that kind of stuff. I amused myself with pictures of the restrooms and the icy stainless steel toilet seats, and dead flowers.
We drove to Santa Cruz and walked the boardwalk. It was like the picture you have of Califonia from watching it on television. It felt fake. We bypassed the world's largest avocado (not that a quick peek didn't have my vote), and drove back along Route 1. I saw lots of ocean hitting rocky cliffs. That night we went to Henry and Lisa's, where we (read: I) got drunk (not intentionally. Lisa makes an impressively mixerless mixed drink) and had dinner. We watched a movie in their movie theater, then Henry gave me the technology tour of the house. There's a lot of detail I don't remember anymore, but it was amazing. Henry is some kind of technological genius. Everything's wired to something, and he has these extra rooms he makes out of the desire to do something different...I can't even explain it anymore. The technology tour is the one part of this narration that suffers from time. We left just before one, and went immediately to sleep upon arriving home.
Sunday was a calm day. Peter went to Apple, and Lorrie and I watched television. In the afternoon, we went to Valley Fair (I think it what it was called?), the nearby mall, and she bought me some Origins products as an early birthday present. Peter picked us up, and we went back to their place. We tried Alton Brown's mac 'n' cheese recipe for dinner, but I think we used too potent a mustard seed. (brown instead of yellow? I think Lorrie said it makes a difference?) It was okay. We also had some exceptionally good spinach-artichoke dip. Peter retired early that night, and Lorrie and I got a chance to have some quality chitchat. And watch more TV. And a movie. We stayed up plenty late.
The next morning, Peter worked the morning at Apple, and Lorrie (who had the day off) and I slept. At 11:00 they brought me to the airport and took off. I went in and got settled. While having my luggage scanned, an alarm went off nearby. No less than fifty airport employees yelled "FREEZE!" and started charging toward the woman who must've set it off. The airport was silent for minutes after that. Everything stopped, and I stood and shoelessly waited to find out what the hell was going on. About ten minutes later, people started trickling back to the stations they were manning, and things started moving again. I never found out what happened, but it was one of the scariest things I've ever experienced. I got on the plane fine, and sat with an older couple from outside Portland, Oregon. We chatted on and off for the duration of the flight. We got to Boston at 10:30 p.m., where I waited two hours for my bus (it was 45 minutes late. I was convinced I had missed it). It came, we got to Portland at 2:00 a.m., and Jeremy was already there. We drove back to Jay, arriving at 3:30 a.m. I had the next day off, thankfully. And that was my trip.
Saturday we went to Hobee's for breakfast. They gave me a continent-sized piece of coffee cake with my already well-balanced, food-intensive meal. I got about three bites in before hitting my limit. From there we went to the Rose Garden. San Jose has one, and it's really amazing if you care a lick about gardening. I recommend going in the spring. I took lots of pictures for my and Jeremy's moms, as they love that kind of stuff. I amused myself with pictures of the restrooms and the icy stainless steel toilet seats, and dead flowers.
We drove to Santa Cruz and walked the boardwalk. It was like the picture you have of Califonia from watching it on television. It felt fake. We bypassed the world's largest avocado (not that a quick peek didn't have my vote), and drove back along Route 1. I saw lots of ocean hitting rocky cliffs. That night we went to Henry and Lisa's, where we (read: I) got drunk (not intentionally. Lisa makes an impressively mixerless mixed drink) and had dinner. We watched a movie in their movie theater, then Henry gave me the technology tour of the house. There's a lot of detail I don't remember anymore, but it was amazing. Henry is some kind of technological genius. Everything's wired to something, and he has these extra rooms he makes out of the desire to do something different...I can't even explain it anymore. The technology tour is the one part of this narration that suffers from time. We left just before one, and went immediately to sleep upon arriving home.
Sunday was a calm day. Peter went to Apple, and Lorrie and I watched television. In the afternoon, we went to Valley Fair (I think it what it was called?), the nearby mall, and she bought me some Origins products as an early birthday present. Peter picked us up, and we went back to their place. We tried Alton Brown's mac 'n' cheese recipe for dinner, but I think we used too potent a mustard seed. (brown instead of yellow? I think Lorrie said it makes a difference?) It was okay. We also had some exceptionally good spinach-artichoke dip. Peter retired early that night, and Lorrie and I got a chance to have some quality chitchat. And watch more TV. And a movie. We stayed up plenty late.
The next morning, Peter worked the morning at Apple, and Lorrie (who had the day off) and I slept. At 11:00 they brought me to the airport and took off. I went in and got settled. While having my luggage scanned, an alarm went off nearby. No less than fifty airport employees yelled "FREEZE!" and started charging toward the woman who must've set it off. The airport was silent for minutes after that. Everything stopped, and I stood and shoelessly waited to find out what the hell was going on. About ten minutes later, people started trickling back to the stations they were manning, and things started moving again. I never found out what happened, but it was one of the scariest things I've ever experienced. I got on the plane fine, and sat with an older couple from outside Portland, Oregon. We chatted on and off for the duration of the flight. We got to Boston at 10:30 p.m., where I waited two hours for my bus (it was 45 minutes late. I was convinced I had missed it). It came, we got to Portland at 2:00 a.m., and Jeremy was already there. We drove back to Jay, arriving at 3:30 a.m. I had the next day off, thankfully. And that was my trip.
04 December 2005
not dead yet!
I will not be attending school this spring.
The question is, "Now what?"
Hopefully Jeremy will get this job...we'll find out sometime this week, I imagine. That'd be a reason to stay in the area. I also have the option of staying at Movie Gallery and becoming assistant manager (Tami has informed me that as soon as we move up a revenue class, she's allowed an assistant manager, and she'd like for it to me be). Then I, too, would have a job with benefits and paid vacations, sick days and so on. I'm not sure climbing the Movie Gallery ladder is what I want to do. Jeremy suggested applying at Orono again, and I'm not sold on it. Though it would be easier to get in. Of course, I'm not ready to find out otherwise. One rejection from a UMaine-system school per year, thanks.
I might apply to CMCC. Chuck my other 64 credits out the window, and start afresh towards an associates degree in early childhood education. It's cheaper. Or maybe I should reconsider school altogether.
It's December. The first half of this month is going to be full. My dad's coming to visit Tuesday (unless it snows, in which case he'll come Monday night and stay over, possibly until Wednesday morning. Or he'll show up on the 9th, before I go to work). We'll be in Portland on Wednesday the 7th to make gifts with Emily, then head to the Videoport Christmas Party that night. From there we'll immediately drive home, as I'll have to work at 7:00 a.m. the next day (it's an inventory shift, which means no customers and MAYBE no uniform. And scanning things with Tami. It's a good time, seriously.) I'll work straight through my birthday and into the following week, to prepare for the stress extravaganza that will be Jay Christmas! Our parents, here. Overnight. For a holiday. There's a lot of cleaning to be done, drugs to be taken, traffic to be jumped into... It might be okay. It'll be one day shorter than originally anticipated (which upsets and depresses my mother, but she'll come around eventually. She has no choice.) But after that, we're done. The last two weeks of December are empty. If Jeremy gets the job, he said we'd have an awesome Christmas.
I am fully ready to be done with 2005. I think it's fair to say that Jeremy and I have almost survived the worst year of our lives. 2005, and 26, have been huge letdowns. Into the trash with them! 2006 will be full of rewarding employment, and meals at restaurants. 27 will be the age for rewarding life choices. Though I'll settle for delivery and a steady paycheck. That's why I'm eee-zaaaay (ah ah ah ahh)...
(I'll wrap up California soon. It's been a full week here at the ranch.)
The question is, "Now what?"
Hopefully Jeremy will get this job...we'll find out sometime this week, I imagine. That'd be a reason to stay in the area. I also have the option of staying at Movie Gallery and becoming assistant manager (Tami has informed me that as soon as we move up a revenue class, she's allowed an assistant manager, and she'd like for it to me be). Then I, too, would have a job with benefits and paid vacations, sick days and so on. I'm not sure climbing the Movie Gallery ladder is what I want to do. Jeremy suggested applying at Orono again, and I'm not sold on it. Though it would be easier to get in. Of course, I'm not ready to find out otherwise. One rejection from a UMaine-system school per year, thanks.
I might apply to CMCC. Chuck my other 64 credits out the window, and start afresh towards an associates degree in early childhood education. It's cheaper. Or maybe I should reconsider school altogether.
It's December. The first half of this month is going to be full. My dad's coming to visit Tuesday (unless it snows, in which case he'll come Monday night and stay over, possibly until Wednesday morning. Or he'll show up on the 9th, before I go to work). We'll be in Portland on Wednesday the 7th to make gifts with Emily, then head to the Videoport Christmas Party that night. From there we'll immediately drive home, as I'll have to work at 7:00 a.m. the next day (it's an inventory shift, which means no customers and MAYBE no uniform. And scanning things with Tami. It's a good time, seriously.) I'll work straight through my birthday and into the following week, to prepare for the stress extravaganza that will be Jay Christmas! Our parents, here. Overnight. For a holiday. There's a lot of cleaning to be done, drugs to be taken, traffic to be jumped into... It might be okay. It'll be one day shorter than originally anticipated (which upsets and depresses my mother, but she'll come around eventually. She has no choice.) But after that, we're done. The last two weeks of December are empty. If Jeremy gets the job, he said we'd have an awesome Christmas.
I am fully ready to be done with 2005. I think it's fair to say that Jeremy and I have almost survived the worst year of our lives. 2005, and 26, have been huge letdowns. Into the trash with them! 2006 will be full of rewarding employment, and meals at restaurants. 27 will be the age for rewarding life choices. Though I'll settle for delivery and a steady paycheck. That's why I'm eee-zaaaay (ah ah ah ahh)...
(I'll wrap up California soon. It's been a full week here at the ranch.)
30 November 2005
california, part 2: the adventure begins!
We stayed at Jim and Jhawn's place Thursday night, since my bus was leaving quite early the next morning, and the closer I could get to the bus station, the better. Unfortunately, sleep didn't come quickly, and when 3:15 a.m. arrived, I was in immense pain. I showered, drank coffee, and got to the bus station for 4:30 (the recommended time to assure me a spot on the 5:00 a.m. bus to Logan Airport). I read and listened to Concord Trailways radio on the ride down. I was also privvy to various stages of the sunrise, which was quite nice.
I got to Boston at 7:00, which left me two hours to kill before the flight. I checked in, found the gate, and sat down. I had three dollars to my name, and spent it on a bagel and coffee from Dunkin' Donuts, and a package of Certs (so if forced to small talk with strangers, I wouldn't immediately offend them with my mouth). A woman named Ann chatted with me a little, and then asked me to watch her coat and bag while she went to find the bathroom. Forty minutes later, she came back. We also ended up talking to an older woman from Bethel, who would get my attention by saying "Hey! Girl from Jay!". The plane started boarding at 8:30. I was next to a young, clean-looking, well-traveled couple. They were extremely snobby, and we didn't exchange words. My seat was on the aisle, and any time I came near the arm rest between my seat and that of young pretty-man, he'd tense up. Not that I wanted contact with him any more than he seemed to want contact with me, but I new then and there that there'd be no sleeping for me on this flight. Luckily there was a movie. Unluckily, they were charging $2 for headphones, and I had spent my cash on breakfast and breath-freshner. OOPS! So I attempted lip-reading to try watching Must Love Dogs, but gave up almost immediately, and settled in with Augusten Burroughs (Magical Thinking is my airplane book. I've read it three or four times at least, but it's always good). It was a long, l-o-n-g flight, and I was exhausted when we finally got to San Francisco. It was 12:30 PST. Peter wasn't immediately findable, so I took the opportunity to pee and stick my face in a sink. I met up with my brother-in-law on my way to the escalator. He'd been at the baggage claim (I didn't check bags, since I'm a compact packer, and fit everything into a small duffel bag). He talked a lot about work on the drive, and I attempted to small-talk back and take pictures. I didn't do very well on either count. Peter took me to Apple, and I got to see his cubicle. I got to see Henry and Lisa again for the first time since Lorrie and Peter's wedding. Peter bought me lunch at the fancy Apple cafeteria (he told me a story about how when Steve Jobs came back to Apple, one of the first orders of business was to improve the meal quality. So now a catering company runs the cafeteria, and make this amazing food.) I got a pizza, and it was good. After some walking around, Peter took me back to their apartment to settle and watch TV while he finished work. We decided I'd be quietly sitting on the couch when he and Lorrie arrived home. I had planned to take a nap, but by the time I was actually at Lorrie's apartment, I was getting my second wind. So I watched television. Around 5:30, they approached the door. It opened, and there was Peter. Lorrie, thinking there was a prowler, was peeking around him, and I peered over the top of the couch and gave her a stupid grin. Then she started screaming. Loudly. Excitedly. Screaming and jumping, and very quickly moving toward me WHILE screaming and jumping. Peter told her to quiet down for fear that the neighbors will think that he beats her. I told her that if she wanted to continue screaming, she might want to do it further away from my face. But it was awesome. I had told Peter she'd scream, but I think he expected tears and subdued joy. But Lorrie's a screaming jumper.
That night we went out to the Mandarin Gourmet, which was excellent. We went back to their apartment after that, and watched some TV. By 8:00p.m. PST, I was starting to fall asleep sitting up. I had been up since midnight pacific time, and was working off of three hours of sleep. So at 9:00, Lorrie accepted that I was not going to be any fun that night, and let me go to bed. We made tentative plans for Saturday (Winchester Mystery House?) and Sunday (San Francisco?). I fell asleep the instant she and Peter left the room.
I got to Boston at 7:00, which left me two hours to kill before the flight. I checked in, found the gate, and sat down. I had three dollars to my name, and spent it on a bagel and coffee from Dunkin' Donuts, and a package of Certs (so if forced to small talk with strangers, I wouldn't immediately offend them with my mouth). A woman named Ann chatted with me a little, and then asked me to watch her coat and bag while she went to find the bathroom. Forty minutes later, she came back. We also ended up talking to an older woman from Bethel, who would get my attention by saying "Hey! Girl from Jay!". The plane started boarding at 8:30. I was next to a young, clean-looking, well-traveled couple. They were extremely snobby, and we didn't exchange words. My seat was on the aisle, and any time I came near the arm rest between my seat and that of young pretty-man, he'd tense up. Not that I wanted contact with him any more than he seemed to want contact with me, but I new then and there that there'd be no sleeping for me on this flight. Luckily there was a movie. Unluckily, they were charging $2 for headphones, and I had spent my cash on breakfast and breath-freshner. OOPS! So I attempted lip-reading to try watching Must Love Dogs, but gave up almost immediately, and settled in with Augusten Burroughs (Magical Thinking is my airplane book. I've read it three or four times at least, but it's always good). It was a long, l-o-n-g flight, and I was exhausted when we finally got to San Francisco. It was 12:30 PST. Peter wasn't immediately findable, so I took the opportunity to pee and stick my face in a sink. I met up with my brother-in-law on my way to the escalator. He'd been at the baggage claim (I didn't check bags, since I'm a compact packer, and fit everything into a small duffel bag). He talked a lot about work on the drive, and I attempted to small-talk back and take pictures. I didn't do very well on either count. Peter took me to Apple, and I got to see his cubicle. I got to see Henry and Lisa again for the first time since Lorrie and Peter's wedding. Peter bought me lunch at the fancy Apple cafeteria (he told me a story about how when Steve Jobs came back to Apple, one of the first orders of business was to improve the meal quality. So now a catering company runs the cafeteria, and make this amazing food.) I got a pizza, and it was good. After some walking around, Peter took me back to their apartment to settle and watch TV while he finished work. We decided I'd be quietly sitting on the couch when he and Lorrie arrived home. I had planned to take a nap, but by the time I was actually at Lorrie's apartment, I was getting my second wind. So I watched television. Around 5:30, they approached the door. It opened, and there was Peter. Lorrie, thinking there was a prowler, was peeking around him, and I peered over the top of the couch and gave her a stupid grin. Then she started screaming. Loudly. Excitedly. Screaming and jumping, and very quickly moving toward me WHILE screaming and jumping. Peter told her to quiet down for fear that the neighbors will think that he beats her. I told her that if she wanted to continue screaming, she might want to do it further away from my face. But it was awesome. I had told Peter she'd scream, but I think he expected tears and subdued joy. But Lorrie's a screaming jumper.
That night we went out to the Mandarin Gourmet, which was excellent. We went back to their apartment after that, and watched some TV. By 8:00p.m. PST, I was starting to fall asleep sitting up. I had been up since midnight pacific time, and was working off of three hours of sleep. So at 9:00, Lorrie accepted that I was not going to be any fun that night, and let me go to bed. We made tentative plans for Saturday (Winchester Mystery House?) and Sunday (San Francisco?). I fell asleep the instant she and Peter left the room.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)