On Friday's drive home from the second doctor's appointment that week I ended up talking to my mother and getting frustrated so easily again and it made me sad. When I hung up I wondered how things had become so difficult and why it is so hard to get through the little things I wanted to say. Sometimes I wonder if I still act like a teenager with her.
Instead of copping out on seeing old, great, best friends for dinner in the city, I agreed to venture out into the arctic chill to meet them. For the first part of dinner I felt distant; I couldn't stop feeling stressed about work. The mistake. Was my boss going to be angry with me on Monday after skipping out of work early again, leaving her with the outstanding issues, the inconsistencies of our quarterly process?
I started wondering if it was my anxiousness and anxiety about work and about my mother which made me believe that I was beginning to feel like the third wheel with friends. I hung out with them so many times over the years, they have seen me grow up from emaciated to out of control, from a child into a woman.
I got a stomach ache that night and learned to keep it under wraps after so many miserable outings of feeling sick and being worried about drawing attention from others. I ended up telling of my evening to bub, sleepy on the couch, late that night.
The next morning was easier. The gym was temporarily therapeutic, the sweat and work I put my body through to shed the stress and anxiety of work. Had my last email to my boss at 12:33am that morning been curt, rude? I read and reread.
We went to church and I listed to how we each have a mission to fulfill. An easy homily. An easy rule. Hard to figure out, apparently. I watched the woman on the podium rub her eyes; she can't see. She clutches onto the chairs as she feels for her safety.
We go out last night for a date and do not cop out and watch movies on t.v. until much later, after drinks at a remote bar. Its dark shadows, brick walls, dim lanterns make me feel like we're tourists at a trendy bar in a faraway place. Paris. Spain. I've never been there.
The air is warmer.
We see houses today. We are filled with hope. We don't feel the future lingering. We know we won't share the space with our children. It's not right.
It's not perfect.
We see my parents and I wonder if I'm too harsh with my demands for an upstairs/downstairs house, not a ranch, one with a porch, garage, and yard. That their new room could be a master bedroom. I laugh, my mother makes a noise and I wonder if my joke wasn't a joke to her.
My dad is lively and my mom sends us with scones, a recipe for them, and love. My dad and I hug goodbye and he comes back for another one and then another one.
I wonder if they're okay.
I wonder if I am.
And there's the laundry to do.
Now.
28 January 2007
25 January 2007
Bad writer
I just feel like one. And I've had the pleasure of consuming three glasses of Syrah, but don't worry, my last dose of Sudafed has already worn off...and yes, the ear is still blocked.
So I came across this video tonight on one of my past (and still present) favorite sites (hint, hint brides!), wedding bee.
I was never this out of control and hopefully no one--and I mean NO ONE will ever embarrass themselves like this (wedding or otherwise)! Geesh.
So I came across this video tonight on one of my past (and still present) favorite sites (hint, hint brides!), wedding bee.
I was never this out of control and hopefully no one--and I mean NO ONE will ever embarrass themselves like this (wedding or otherwise)! Geesh.
24 January 2007
Under is over
Hi,
I'm still not feeling very well. Left ear is still blocked and throat is weird, too. No strep though, but wait a minute, 12-year-old-looking doctor didn't even give me a test for that, so he could be wrong and inexperienced and wrong.
So I take Sudafed and Benadryl, as prescribed. He was so helpful, he wrote that down on a piece of computer paper for me, reminding me that those are not prescription drugs.
Hi, I don't live in a hole, I think I know that.
So, he says I'll feel better this morning as in today as in by now I should feel smashing. Except wait, I stayed home today. Yes, stayed home. Stayed home sick.
Ear is still blocked.
Anyway, speed things up to something exciting. We just finished watching the last episode ever of 6 Feet Under. Except we thought there was one more season and then wait, we started to see everyone dying. And it was morbid, but wait, that is like 90% of the show's premise.
Anyway, I want to write to the creator because the show was really...different...and I'm definitely going to have withdrawls.
Withdrawls with a blocked ear. Yeah.
I'm still not feeling very well. Left ear is still blocked and throat is weird, too. No strep though, but wait a minute, 12-year-old-looking doctor didn't even give me a test for that, so he could be wrong and inexperienced and wrong.
So I take Sudafed and Benadryl, as prescribed. He was so helpful, he wrote that down on a piece of computer paper for me, reminding me that those are not prescription drugs.
Hi, I don't live in a hole, I think I know that.
So, he says I'll feel better this morning as in today as in by now I should feel smashing. Except wait, I stayed home today. Yes, stayed home. Stayed home sick.
Ear is still blocked.
Anyway, speed things up to something exciting. We just finished watching the last episode ever of 6 Feet Under. Except we thought there was one more season and then wait, we started to see everyone dying. And it was morbid, but wait, that is like 90% of the show's premise.
Anyway, I want to write to the creator because the show was really...different...and I'm definitely going to have withdrawls.
Withdrawls with a blocked ear. Yeah.
23 January 2007
Leaving soon
Yup, I did it. I told my boss:
Hey, my ear is blocked and my throat feels weird... Hey! I'm sick!
And she told me to do what I have to do (after searching my eyes for any clues that I might be lying-which I am NOT) because after asking the urgent care nurse to repeat herself 4 times since my left ear is blocked (and I'm a lefty, thank you), I am leaving soon to drive 1 hour to my primary care physician's office, which is a hospital, which is OUT OF THE WAY to see another doctor-because you guessed it-my doctor isn't working and oh, they can't refer me to another closer office because of dumb, hospital, healthcare, yucky rules and so I get to see one Dr. F. Because Ripe just might have strep since apparently all the symptoms are there.
Great.
Hey, my ear is blocked and my throat feels weird... Hey! I'm sick!
And she told me to do what I have to do (after searching my eyes for any clues that I might be lying-which I am NOT) because after asking the urgent care nurse to repeat herself 4 times since my left ear is blocked (and I'm a lefty, thank you), I am leaving soon to drive 1 hour to my primary care physician's office, which is a hospital, which is OUT OF THE WAY to see another doctor-because you guessed it-my doctor isn't working and oh, they can't refer me to another closer office because of dumb, hospital, healthcare, yucky rules and so I get to see one Dr. F. Because Ripe just might have strep since apparently all the symptoms are there.
Great.
22 January 2007
Update
I had a good weekend despite the head cold which hasn't left, but has changed.
I now think I have an ear ache. I can't really hear out of my left ear and it's so bizarre because I rarely have ear issues aside from a little water in there from swimming during the summer.
Since winter has finally arrived and my toes are still frozen from this morning's trek across the parking lot and into my office, you all now know that water (from swimming) is not found in my ear.
But I want this to go away because I do not want to see my doctor. She is not only inconvenient by working like one day a week since she's supermommy, she works in a busy hospital which means I battle ambulances and every medical worker moseying around to get to the parking garage and then there's the parking in there which can take years, the long haul through multiple floors only to find her office where some old person sits, stares at you, complains of something and says my appointment was at _______ and fills in a time hours before yours, making you think that making an appointment is a complete waste of time.
The good news:
We had our carpets cleaned on Saturday and they look like new. Not as in they look good, they look NEW
We received our parents' wedding albums on Saturday, which came out quite lovely.
Today is our 6-month wedding anniversary : )
I now think I have an ear ache. I can't really hear out of my left ear and it's so bizarre because I rarely have ear issues aside from a little water in there from swimming during the summer.
Since winter has finally arrived and my toes are still frozen from this morning's trek across the parking lot and into my office, you all now know that water (from swimming) is not found in my ear.
But I want this to go away because I do not want to see my doctor. She is not only inconvenient by working like one day a week since she's supermommy, she works in a busy hospital which means I battle ambulances and every medical worker moseying around to get to the parking garage and then there's the parking in there which can take years, the long haul through multiple floors only to find her office where some old person sits, stares at you, complains of something and says my appointment was at _______ and fills in a time hours before yours, making you think that making an appointment is a complete waste of time.
The good news:
We had our carpets cleaned on Saturday and they look like new. Not as in they look good, they look NEW
We received our parents' wedding albums on Saturday, which came out quite lovely.
Today is our 6-month wedding anniversary : )
19 January 2007
Trying to fight it
But I'm sick.
My throat has been sore for the past 2 days. I've felt useless at work because my head kills, my eyes ache, and I just don't care. Oh, and those chills? I've got them.
But I won't go home. I feel like I'll be thought of as a cop out.
Oh, she's sick. Yeah, on a Friday afternoon--isn't that sort of sudden? Hmmm.
Because I am the worst at showing symptoms. I usually just say I don't feel well and people stand back but I don't sound funny nor is my nose running--yet. And so people forget that I don't feel good--don't sound bad enough to need to go home. And the thing is that I usually don't like to tell people I don't feel well. Because I hate that standing back thing people do when I tell them I might be getting the flu. And I just hate the empty words of "hope you feel better" when I know they're thinking well, she sounds and looks normal.
I hate telling my boss if I ever have to leave early or come in late or if I'm sick. I feel like she thinks I'm lying, that I just want to get out of something, or that I'm preparing to go home, change into a suit and head off to an intense interview.
Right. That's never the case. I mean, it hasn't been in a while.
My last interview was after work hours, anyway.
My throat has been sore for the past 2 days. I've felt useless at work because my head kills, my eyes ache, and I just don't care. Oh, and those chills? I've got them.
But I won't go home. I feel like I'll be thought of as a cop out.
Oh, she's sick. Yeah, on a Friday afternoon--isn't that sort of sudden? Hmmm.
Because I am the worst at showing symptoms. I usually just say I don't feel well and people stand back but I don't sound funny nor is my nose running--yet. And so people forget that I don't feel good--don't sound bad enough to need to go home. And the thing is that I usually don't like to tell people I don't feel well. Because I hate that standing back thing people do when I tell them I might be getting the flu. And I just hate the empty words of "hope you feel better" when I know they're thinking well, she sounds and looks normal.
I hate telling my boss if I ever have to leave early or come in late or if I'm sick. I feel like she thinks I'm lying, that I just want to get out of something, or that I'm preparing to go home, change into a suit and head off to an intense interview.
Right. That's never the case. I mean, it hasn't been in a while.
My last interview was after work hours, anyway.
16 January 2007
I was that girl
I was that girl who, after 10 years, returned to an orthodontist's office to have molds made for new retainers.
I looked at Alberto straight in the face in my most grown up way ever and asked for blue retainers and questioned if I should get sparkles or not because, well, I am 26 after all.
He said he thought they were cute, so I went for it.
Alberto definitely glanced at my chest too. I totally caught him. And it's not like I was wearing some tight cleavage bearing shirt (hello? I was off to work straight after the appointment). Maybe he wanted to remind me that I'm not a kid and that I'm probably their only adult patient.
I pick up my retainers next week.
*
I was that girl who, after any doctor's appointment--even the dentist--even the orthodontist--will find a coffee shop (most likely a Starbucks because hey, is anyone original out there who makes coffee?).
After ordering a nice yummy soy mocha in a size larger than I usually get because hey, I get to get blue sparkles retainers that will cost me over $1,000 (yes, you read that right--and it's not even a fun thing I'm buying here--and yes--I do have insurance--but even after they pay what they claim they'll pay--it'll still be a bill worth more than a nice shopping spree for me), I start walking to my car because I'm a good girl and even though I skipped the gym these past few days I figured, I can walk a block or so back to my car sans gloves, holding my toasty drink and that can be my lame attempt at morning exercise. But wait, my shoe had to start sliding off; damn slingbacks! So, in the graceful way that I do things I gave myself a little surprise and perfectly dripped coffee down my coat and on my sleeve and yeah, all over my hand. Okay, I say to myself. Okay. The coat is black. No sweat. But as I continue my walk back to the car that now seems like a very looong way, my hands are now numbing and I realize: No, no. I can't wait. This soy stuff will dry on my coat and how can I let that happen? And knowing full well that as soon as I get to the car that there is a napkin waiting for me in my lunch bag, I stop anyway--about a dozen parking spots away from my car. I perch in front of some still-closed-because-it's-too-early-in-the-morning-business and I was that girl.
I was that girl who was using a maxi pad to wipe up her soy mocha which had splattered on her coat and sleeve and hand.
And I'm okay with it. I am an adult just cleaning up a mess and to me a sanitary napkin is just for that very emergency.
Luckily when I made it to the office nothing happened that made me feel like I was 13 again, getting braces and having people poke around my teeth to see what fun ugly wires and elastics and head gear they could fit inside (and outside) my head. And there, when I finally got around to eating my lunch, was my trusty napkin.
What a relief.
I looked at Alberto straight in the face in my most grown up way ever and asked for blue retainers and questioned if I should get sparkles or not because, well, I am 26 after all.
He said he thought they were cute, so I went for it.
Alberto definitely glanced at my chest too. I totally caught him. And it's not like I was wearing some tight cleavage bearing shirt (hello? I was off to work straight after the appointment). Maybe he wanted to remind me that I'm not a kid and that I'm probably their only adult patient.
I pick up my retainers next week.
*
I was that girl who, after any doctor's appointment--even the dentist--even the orthodontist--will find a coffee shop (most likely a Starbucks because hey, is anyone original out there who makes coffee?).
After ordering a nice yummy soy mocha in a size larger than I usually get because hey, I get to get blue sparkles retainers that will cost me over $1,000 (yes, you read that right--and it's not even a fun thing I'm buying here--and yes--I do have insurance--but even after they pay what they claim they'll pay--it'll still be a bill worth more than a nice shopping spree for me), I start walking to my car because I'm a good girl and even though I skipped the gym these past few days I figured, I can walk a block or so back to my car sans gloves, holding my toasty drink and that can be my lame attempt at morning exercise. But wait, my shoe had to start sliding off; damn slingbacks! So, in the graceful way that I do things I gave myself a little surprise and perfectly dripped coffee down my coat and on my sleeve and yeah, all over my hand. Okay, I say to myself. Okay. The coat is black. No sweat. But as I continue my walk back to the car that now seems like a very looong way, my hands are now numbing and I realize: No, no. I can't wait. This soy stuff will dry on my coat and how can I let that happen? And knowing full well that as soon as I get to the car that there is a napkin waiting for me in my lunch bag, I stop anyway--about a dozen parking spots away from my car. I perch in front of some still-closed-because-it's-too-early-in-the-morning-business and I was that girl.
I was that girl who was using a maxi pad to wipe up her soy mocha which had splattered on her coat and sleeve and hand.
And I'm okay with it. I am an adult just cleaning up a mess and to me a sanitary napkin is just for that very emergency.
Luckily when I made it to the office nothing happened that made me feel like I was 13 again, getting braces and having people poke around my teeth to see what fun ugly wires and elastics and head gear they could fit inside (and outside) my head. And there, when I finally got around to eating my lunch, was my trusty napkin.
What a relief.
13 January 2007
iThis and iThat and this lurking business
This will be quick or else I'll be late. And we all know how I do well with being on time (I slipped a few times this week as far as being on time for work goes).
So, a couple of things:
The iPhone came up an alarmingly crazy number of times yesterday. I'm all for a cool phone, but sometimes you have to remember that hey, it's a phone! Make calls and go to your computer when you want to be a media maniac.
Second, I got a shuffle for Christmas and as daily editor knows, I love it. It's perfect. It makes me move at the gym (although I'm not sure I'll have time to make it there today. The excuses never end!) But I have yet to download a number of items. So so far, I've just bought some new stuff. So, little cyberspace buddies, please recommend your favorite song to work out to here! I really want a fun and different repertoire of tunes.
Happy Weekend!
RFR
So, a couple of things:
The iPhone came up an alarmingly crazy number of times yesterday. I'm all for a cool phone, but sometimes you have to remember that hey, it's a phone! Make calls and go to your computer when you want to be a media maniac.
Second, I got a shuffle for Christmas and as daily editor knows, I love it. It's perfect. It makes me move at the gym (although I'm not sure I'll have time to make it there today. The excuses never end!) But I have yet to download a number of items. So so far, I've just bought some new stuff. So, little cyberspace buddies, please recommend your favorite song to work out to here! I really want a fun and different repertoire of tunes.
Happy Weekend!
RFR
12 January 2007
Asshat
It's Friday, ya'll. I hear this word "Asshat" more and more and I have to say I like it.
But not as much as fuck face. OK. No more cursing now.
So yes, it's Friday. I'm in the office for 1/2 a day today as I am off to a meeting off-site early this afternoon. And afterwards I'll be so close to home that I won't be returning to the office (yay!) and instead, I'll go to the jewelry store where bub and I purchased our wedding bands. Because after so much talk of people getting engaged recently...ahem...you know who you are...you have inspired me to get my rings steam cleaned and to have a reason to talk jewelry talk with...well...jewelry people. I am very good about cleaning my rings, but sometimes you just need them steamed, you know?
***
I was feeling quite sick yesterday evening so as to cancel plans with a friend who I have not seen in quite a while. It was quite the scene. Bub comes home to find me on the couch in my work clothes with a blanket up to my chin watching Flashdance as though I had never seen it before. I would not talk to him except during commercials (which is so not me) until I realized that that was silly. I've seen the movie before and I haven't seen my husband all day and it's important that despite my not feeling well, that I hear him out and learn what sorts of things I missed.
Then I turned into a couch bug. I would not get up. So bub had to pry me off the couch. Then I stuck to him in one of those hugs that means don't let me go. I hurt. I'm cold. I have aches.
So he said let's get you in your PJ's. And he started to help me put on my pink fleece sleep things and I thought this is good practice for him if we should ever have kids. He started to pull my turtleneck sweater off when I realized that my hair was going with it. I screamed in pain. Then I told him how this is was supposed to be in preparation if we were to have a daughter some day and he said I don't think I would be taking off my daughter's bra.
And that was the end of that.
But not as much as fuck face. OK. No more cursing now.
So yes, it's Friday. I'm in the office for 1/2 a day today as I am off to a meeting off-site early this afternoon. And afterwards I'll be so close to home that I won't be returning to the office (yay!) and instead, I'll go to the jewelry store where bub and I purchased our wedding bands. Because after so much talk of people getting engaged recently...ahem...you know who you are...you have inspired me to get my rings steam cleaned and to have a reason to talk jewelry talk with...well...jewelry people. I am very good about cleaning my rings, but sometimes you just need them steamed, you know?
***
I was feeling quite sick yesterday evening so as to cancel plans with a friend who I have not seen in quite a while. It was quite the scene. Bub comes home to find me on the couch in my work clothes with a blanket up to my chin watching Flashdance as though I had never seen it before. I would not talk to him except during commercials (which is so not me) until I realized that that was silly. I've seen the movie before and I haven't seen my husband all day and it's important that despite my not feeling well, that I hear him out and learn what sorts of things I missed.
Then I turned into a couch bug. I would not get up. So bub had to pry me off the couch. Then I stuck to him in one of those hugs that means don't let me go. I hurt. I'm cold. I have aches.
So he said let's get you in your PJ's. And he started to help me put on my pink fleece sleep things and I thought this is good practice for him if we should ever have kids. He started to pull my turtleneck sweater off when I realized that my hair was going with it. I screamed in pain. Then I told him how this is was supposed to be in preparation if we were to have a daughter some day and he said I don't think I would be taking off my daughter's bra.
And that was the end of that.
08 January 2007
i pulled into the parking lot at exactly 9:03 this morning. i looked at the clock on my phone at my desk and it said 9:07. this is my exact arrival time, but there's a slight possibility that i arrived one minute earlier (9:06) seeing as how i did not look at the phone clock at the exact moment i got to my desk. no, i took off my rain slick coat, put down my bags, including lunch, and proceeded to open my laptop bag.
i'm going to forgive myself for being a little tardy because it's raining in a psycho manner outside.
we had our christmas gift exchange with my family yesterday. i got this yummy tea i was hoping santa would purchase for me. it's heaven, really. we also got a new dvd player as ours died and it was very difficult watching episodes of Six Feet Under on a small computer screen and not being able to pop in your wedding video to check out the way people looked as bub and i declared our love for one another.
the other day, i discovered a cool 'shared blog': Indie Bloggers. they're actually looking for creative pieces to post and they can be posts you've already posted in your blog. the thing is, there might 1 or 2 pieces only out of my entire blog, which was started in the fall of 05 that might get a read, but might get tossed to the general posts page--or looked over completely.
the thing is, i need to get more creative. but it's been a struggle to do so here. sometimes it's forced. sometimes i just want to bitch and moan. sometimes i just want to be me, and making sure i have no spelling mistakes and decent grammar is all i can handle.
so one of my resolutions is to take it up a notch. i'm not sure how, but maybe you'll let me know when i have.
i'm going to forgive myself for being a little tardy because it's raining in a psycho manner outside.
we had our christmas gift exchange with my family yesterday. i got this yummy tea i was hoping santa would purchase for me. it's heaven, really. we also got a new dvd player as ours died and it was very difficult watching episodes of Six Feet Under on a small computer screen and not being able to pop in your wedding video to check out the way people looked as bub and i declared our love for one another.
the other day, i discovered a cool 'shared blog': Indie Bloggers. they're actually looking for creative pieces to post and they can be posts you've already posted in your blog. the thing is, there might 1 or 2 pieces only out of my entire blog, which was started in the fall of 05 that might get a read, but might get tossed to the general posts page--or looked over completely.
the thing is, i need to get more creative. but it's been a struggle to do so here. sometimes it's forced. sometimes i just want to bitch and moan. sometimes i just want to be me, and making sure i have no spelling mistakes and decent grammar is all i can handle.
so one of my resolutions is to take it up a notch. i'm not sure how, but maybe you'll let me know when i have.
07 January 2007
eh
whenever i order Thai food, I can't steer clear from the damn drunken noodles. the place we agreed to catch up and discuss bikini waxes, periods and how our friend doesn't get one when she's lying down in bed until the next morning was a new try since it's near one of my best friend's new house.
i'm slightly inebriated as i write this. today was christmas with my family. my sister had been away (on her first international trip ever) and since we went to MD to see my inlaws, we hadn't had a chanc to exchange gifts.
the pats took full control of our afternoon as we watched with wide eyes and anticipated breath as to whether they would remain in playoff status. well they are, just in case you didn't know.
the visit concluded with a trip to legals, a favorite of my father's. i have no complaints there and i'm now full and drunk off of 2 glasses of shiraz. well, not super drunk, but bitter that we have work in a little over 12 hours.
blech. ewww.
i'm slightly inebriated as i write this. today was christmas with my family. my sister had been away (on her first international trip ever) and since we went to MD to see my inlaws, we hadn't had a chanc to exchange gifts.
the pats took full control of our afternoon as we watched with wide eyes and anticipated breath as to whether they would remain in playoff status. well they are, just in case you didn't know.
the visit concluded with a trip to legals, a favorite of my father's. i have no complaints there and i'm now full and drunk off of 2 glasses of shiraz. well, not super drunk, but bitter that we have work in a little over 12 hours.
blech. ewww.
06 January 2007
random
I'm going to a large la-tee-da meeting for work in Texas during the week of V-day. Not sure how I feel about it. I first dreaded the fact that I may have to, but I've never been to Texas and our hotel looks sort of nice.
Our parent album designs are finally DONE. After a lot of back and forth due to my obsessive compulsive behavior (or left over bridezilla behavior), I have tearfully viewed the photos bub and I selected for our parents to view and reminisce about. We have been watching the video more often than I thought: sharing it with family and friends and so forth, but there's something old fashioned about photos in a book you can look at without the need for a machine.
We're picking up our housing search again tomorrow (or so I hope). I'm treating looking for one like I would a new job. Too bad when you look for a new job, the expectation is such that you will get paid more, whereas with a house, you pour out your pockets and sign away your soul to a mortgage you'll have for the next bazillion years.
More later.
Our parent album designs are finally DONE. After a lot of back and forth due to my obsessive compulsive behavior (or left over bridezilla behavior), I have tearfully viewed the photos bub and I selected for our parents to view and reminisce about. We have been watching the video more often than I thought: sharing it with family and friends and so forth, but there's something old fashioned about photos in a book you can look at without the need for a machine.
We're picking up our housing search again tomorrow (or so I hope). I'm treating looking for one like I would a new job. Too bad when you look for a new job, the expectation is such that you will get paid more, whereas with a house, you pour out your pockets and sign away your soul to a mortgage you'll have for the next bazillion years.
More later.
03 January 2007
A vent
over wine and tiny handfuls of white chocolate chips left over from the swap last month (year). I would make dinner, but it's so much more fun when Bub is home and we cook together. Sigh.
So the job thingy that I mentioned in a past post? Yeah, well I totally called it. The dude told me to be in touch in the New Year. So after work last night I promptly contacted him to say Happy New Year (great minds think alike clink!) and this morning I get an email from him. Before I open it, I know what it's going to say.
Dear Ripe,
We haven't yet filled X position (another position, not the one I want--this was the one I originally applied for but was told I would be bored with in 6 months....mmk) but I will be in touch at that crossroad which may be a few to several months.
Best regards,
Potential New Manager Person
Yes, he wrote "few" and "several" just like that. They are practically the same thing. I called it because when we met he said that he was originally going to start interviewing for this job in the spring. He may have wanted to stress that the start time for this position would be later. But no--I get my hopes up because he's leaving the ball in my court. Well I had it and threw it back and now I have to wait. Great.
Now, if I were really cool, I could say: Hey new almost manager person, I have all sorts of other prospects in the works. I can't wait. But you see, I haven't been really aggressively looking. I should. I should because current job is what I believe would be a dead end job for moi. No offense, but I'm in a department that's all wrong. I'm ABC, not XYZ. I don't want to be a fill-in-the-blank-I-don't-want-to-offend-anyone-who-might-read-this-and-hold-this-position, which is what my boss (current) says my "path" is. Screw that, people. Screw that.
Next vent:
I'm tired. I had firm plans to be productive yesterday, today. I sit at my desk and I joke around with co-workers. I check blogs, and I feel slightly guilty because I should do more and more work because there's enough of it. My motivation has soured because anyone (I have convineced myself) can do this. Even if you really couldn't do this job, my boss makes it so that you absolutely can because she is a baby-er, a hand hold-er.
Please leave me alone, boss.
Good news is that I've been on time for work this year so far. Only 363 more days to keep it up!
So the job thingy that I mentioned in a past post? Yeah, well I totally called it. The dude told me to be in touch in the New Year. So after work last night I promptly contacted him to say Happy New Year (great minds think alike clink!) and this morning I get an email from him. Before I open it, I know what it's going to say.
Dear Ripe,
We haven't yet filled X position (another position, not the one I want--this was the one I originally applied for but was told I would be bored with in 6 months....mmk) but I will be in touch at that crossroad which may be a few to several months.
Best regards,
Potential New Manager Person
Yes, he wrote "few" and "several" just like that. They are practically the same thing. I called it because when we met he said that he was originally going to start interviewing for this job in the spring. He may have wanted to stress that the start time for this position would be later. But no--I get my hopes up because he's leaving the ball in my court. Well I had it and threw it back and now I have to wait. Great.
Now, if I were really cool, I could say: Hey new almost manager person, I have all sorts of other prospects in the works. I can't wait. But you see, I haven't been really aggressively looking. I should. I should because current job is what I believe would be a dead end job for moi. No offense, but I'm in a department that's all wrong. I'm ABC, not XYZ. I don't want to be a fill-in-the-blank-I-don't-want-to-offend-anyone-who-might-read-this-and-hold-this-position, which is what my boss (current) says my "path" is. Screw that, people. Screw that.
Next vent:
I'm tired. I had firm plans to be productive yesterday, today. I sit at my desk and I joke around with co-workers. I check blogs, and I feel slightly guilty because I should do more and more work because there's enough of it. My motivation has soured because anyone (I have convineced myself) can do this. Even if you really couldn't do this job, my boss makes it so that you absolutely can because she is a baby-er, a hand hold-er.
Please leave me alone, boss.
Good news is that I've been on time for work this year so far. Only 363 more days to keep it up!
House, on my mind...
Some of you know Bub and I found a home we really liked several months ago, surprisingly soon thereafter our nuptuals ceremony. We determined that it was too soon to pounce, too soon to invest, too soon, too soon. We would stay put in our little condo.
Here we are, a couple of months later, many more open houses later, and we think back to the little brown number on Coronation Road and how we liked to call it Coronary Road (and how we thought that's not really very funny, is it?).
And some of you know that said house sold.
And we hang our heads sadly over in Cleveland Circle, not because we don't love our bright space near the city, or that we have enjoyed hanging new artwork on the welcoming walls. Sure, we had a small leak in the roof and we're happy to report that come springtime, we'll take care of that little spot. We have some paint peeling in the bathroom and the kitchen needs a new fridge among other things.
You see, we'll probably keep this little space and rent it out when we don't move to Coronation Road to expand into a bigger home where we can spread out all of the wedding mementos that lie crammed into tiny crevices of our one bedroom. To spread out all the piles of stuff we have peeking out from under the bed. Where we can utilize a basement instead of filling a wooden box of sorts which has been locked inside a large basement that our entire building shares.
We love our home where we planned the wedding, painted together (or Bub mostly painted), where we have the choice of three different train lines going into the city and our own covered parking spot.
But we also want a family...some day. And I have dreams of a bright nursery, a yard, a tree or two, with birds chirping (not trains honking and squeaking). I do enjoy the city, though. I do. It's energy, it's dirty vigor. I enjoy our cozy spot there.
And now I don't know what else to say.
Here we are, a couple of months later, many more open houses later, and we think back to the little brown number on Coronation Road and how we liked to call it Coronary Road (and how we thought that's not really very funny, is it?).
And some of you know that said house sold.
And we hang our heads sadly over in Cleveland Circle, not because we don't love our bright space near the city, or that we have enjoyed hanging new artwork on the welcoming walls. Sure, we had a small leak in the roof and we're happy to report that come springtime, we'll take care of that little spot. We have some paint peeling in the bathroom and the kitchen needs a new fridge among other things.
You see, we'll probably keep this little space and rent it out when we don't move to Coronation Road to expand into a bigger home where we can spread out all of the wedding mementos that lie crammed into tiny crevices of our one bedroom. To spread out all the piles of stuff we have peeking out from under the bed. Where we can utilize a basement instead of filling a wooden box of sorts which has been locked inside a large basement that our entire building shares.
We love our home where we planned the wedding, painted together (or Bub mostly painted), where we have the choice of three different train lines going into the city and our own covered parking spot.
But we also want a family...some day. And I have dreams of a bright nursery, a yard, a tree or two, with birds chirping (not trains honking and squeaking). I do enjoy the city, though. I do. It's energy, it's dirty vigor. I enjoy our cozy spot there.
And now I don't know what else to say.
01 January 2007
Out with the Old, in with the New
So here we are! 2007! Happy New Year!
We had a fun day and night yesterday. We bummed around most of today with one venture into the rain for salty food and the ultimate hangover cure drink: Diet Coke with a wedge of lime. Ohhh, so yummy.
I just finished going through my part of the filing cabinet and desk as far as papers go. It had been a long time since I went through old pay stubs from my first job, old checks that had been voided, paperwork for my old car, stubs from my first payments of my new car. So much had piled up. Most of it stated my old name. It was weird how my status has changed and now my identity. My new last name quietly started appearing on more and more documents.
On Friday, at what has turned into a weekly manicure appointment, I had a run in with two fellow high school classmates. I was half surprised and half not to come to learn the actions that would take place. Classmate A was a friend from nursery school. Then we parted separate ways to our respective elementary schools. Then in middle, and later in high school, she would become one of the many snobs lurking in the hallways, at the lockers, eyeing us in the cafeteria, and even in the classroom. So I was not surprised by her behavior: a look up and down at me and then back to choose her color before proceeding to the pedicure space.
For the record, I have not been on Extreme Makeover. I have never dyed my hair--not even highlights, and I was the only person with my first name in our class of 256 students. This girl KNEW me. And as adults, I was shocked to find that a mere hello or acknowledgement that we are human BEINGS was too much for her.
In walks behind her Classmate B: class president, #2 student, now Harvard grad. She says, is that "First name, last name"? I turn and after a brief silence, state that it is. I pondered whether or not to come up with a cute reply that I was actually "First name, NEW last name". But part of me felt a disconnect from Classmate B. Part of me felt like it's not my nature to blurt out these things. I felt like it was sort of privileged news to share. Which is weird since my rings announce this very fact. Anyway, after a mere couple of questions, I learn a thing or two about her. And then I get:
You're acting so serious.
And for a second. I think. Okay. This girl is nice. This girl used to be my friend. Truly. And then of course, we drifted and it was okay. And there were no bad feelings. But I was already being judged. And it has been 9 years (scary) since we graduated. So I replied with the usual: I am? And the conversation faded out from there.
When she walked away I didn't internalize her words, for once, although writing about this incident might imply this is the case. But I'm okay. I'm okay with who I am, who I was, and who I strive to become.
2007, here I come.
We had a fun day and night yesterday. We bummed around most of today with one venture into the rain for salty food and the ultimate hangover cure drink: Diet Coke with a wedge of lime. Ohhh, so yummy.
I just finished going through my part of the filing cabinet and desk as far as papers go. It had been a long time since I went through old pay stubs from my first job, old checks that had been voided, paperwork for my old car, stubs from my first payments of my new car. So much had piled up. Most of it stated my old name. It was weird how my status has changed and now my identity. My new last name quietly started appearing on more and more documents.
On Friday, at what has turned into a weekly manicure appointment, I had a run in with two fellow high school classmates. I was half surprised and half not to come to learn the actions that would take place. Classmate A was a friend from nursery school. Then we parted separate ways to our respective elementary schools. Then in middle, and later in high school, she would become one of the many snobs lurking in the hallways, at the lockers, eyeing us in the cafeteria, and even in the classroom. So I was not surprised by her behavior: a look up and down at me and then back to choose her color before proceeding to the pedicure space.
For the record, I have not been on Extreme Makeover. I have never dyed my hair--not even highlights, and I was the only person with my first name in our class of 256 students. This girl KNEW me. And as adults, I was shocked to find that a mere hello or acknowledgement that we are human BEINGS was too much for her.
In walks behind her Classmate B: class president, #2 student, now Harvard grad. She says, is that "First name, last name"? I turn and after a brief silence, state that it is. I pondered whether or not to come up with a cute reply that I was actually "First name, NEW last name". But part of me felt a disconnect from Classmate B. Part of me felt like it's not my nature to blurt out these things. I felt like it was sort of privileged news to share. Which is weird since my rings announce this very fact. Anyway, after a mere couple of questions, I learn a thing or two about her. And then I get:
You're acting so serious.
And for a second. I think. Okay. This girl is nice. This girl used to be my friend. Truly. And then of course, we drifted and it was okay. And there were no bad feelings. But I was already being judged. And it has been 9 years (scary) since we graduated. So I replied with the usual: I am? And the conversation faded out from there.
When she walked away I didn't internalize her words, for once, although writing about this incident might imply this is the case. But I'm okay. I'm okay with who I am, who I was, and who I strive to become.
2007, here I come.
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