On Complexities

While playing Guitar Hero, for the first time ever...

Kris: Wow, this is hard.

< pause >

Kris: This is even harder than math

Yeah, I Blew It

...and I didn't even get paid.

I didn't give you all 12 Days of Christmas. To be honest? It was a clusterfeck at the end, and finding time to post when I was running around and working on Christmas was too much. I got done work, ran home, had family over, went to other family's house for dinner - driving home I could barely focus on the road, let alone the computer screen.

My apologies to all who give a damn.

Here lies another problem of late... I don't really give a damn. I'm working myself silly, and I've lost a bit of my grip on reality. I live for getting home and sliding into bed for the few hours I get. I feel horrible about that. It's as though I am not the person I was a year, 2 years, even longer ago. I used to be fun. Now, I'm a walking zombie. I need to change that.

So, how am I going about it? I have the shortlist right here!

~L and I are going back on our diets. We lost over 20lbs each last time, and I think we've gained it all back each. SO --- I need to de-porkify.
~I Find myself getting BACK into music a lot, and it's making me a bit happier. I'm making some mixes for friends now, actually.
~I'm pondering working again. Wait, by that I mean painting and such. I have the beginnings of inspiration. All I need to do now is set up an area in the basement that I can make into a small art studio and get to work, before the inspiration fails and I meld into the bed again. I have much of the stuff still, and I'd just need to go through my paints and see what's worth saving, and what's dried up, like my brain!

So, there are some small steps I want to take. The problem is finding the time. Oi! Always a catch!

The 10th Day of Christmas came

but before they knew it, the 11th day had already descended upon them due to abject craziness.

So, alas, I bring you the 10th day of Christmas, 18 hours late, with a picture representing why I am late posting:

Yesterday marked my three year anniversary of packing up and hitching my ass to New Jersey from the lovely shores of Britannia. Every year, I pretty much forget the date, and my wonderful sweetie remembers and brings me flowers to remind me. If I had the decision to make over, I'd happily do it all over again.

Iz dis be teh 9th dae?

On the 9th Day, there was lolcat speak.

Monday, back at work and it just seems that while time is flying by, there is still the same amount of work to be done, but a lot fewer people opting to do it. We had a full staff today, but I'd say I was the only one who actually worked. Most people meandered the halls, did last minute online shopping and a multitude of forced yuletide joy.

Speaking of forced Yuletide joy - there is a specific person in my department who is the definition of all things I loathe, and this person makes every effort to provoke my irritation with his narrow minded, self centered, ego maniacal, right winged, false christian, self-important antics. One of the yearly things that I have to look forward to is his refusal to accept any identification of this time of year as "Christmas Time". He gets on tangents about calling it a "holiday" and he mocks anything remotely not affiliated with Christmas. I have heard a few comments about my chosen beliefs and my observance of Bodhi Day. Just because I chose not to rip off that toupee when I overheard it doesn't mean I've gone soft - I was just being a more enlightened person. ;)

Today was another example, as we all chipped in and gave the boss a holiday gift card. When it was presented, the boss said "Merry Christmas, everyone, and thank you so much" and then stumbled into a "Have a happy holiday." He meant it sincerely, and I think he was just trying to be certain he didn't break any "political correctness" laws or offend anyone. I personally couldn't care less - Bodhi Day is MY celebration, and how I chose to do it is my concern. Christmas is his, and I have no problem with him wishing me Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa or anything else. It's a personal choice and I don't hold people responsible for learning all of the details of what I believe on the off chance that they may not know how to greet me at a holiday they never knew about. My gripe is when ass hats like the other guy stand up after hearing the boss say the "Happy Holiday" thing and get pissed off and say "Merry Christmas, everyone - if you don't like it, there's the door for the liberal whiners". THAT'S what gets me irritated. I know where it was directed, and I don't care so much for the reason of personal offence about my choices, but rather his disrespect for anyone else who may have a differing opinion or belief. That really cranks my engine. I say nothing about the insane looking display he puts up around his desk for over a month every year. I kind of hope the fact that I have a Jesus bobble head next to a Buddha bobble head on my desk might piss him off.

Ugh. I just vomited out all of today's ugliness. *wipes the computer screen off for you*

And on the 8th Day, I Baked

Sometimes, I wish I were baked, but I already have the munchies with no excuse, so no big loss to me there.

It was a quiet day after Sis and Ed left. I baked cookies and then L and I went to the film "7 Pounds". It was really quite good, and I enjoyed it while sobbing silently in my seat. Sometimes I really can be the emotional wreck that most Aquarians claim as the birth right, but I'll never admit that out loud. Crap. I'm not even whispering right now.

This week begins in a few hours, and it promises non-stop action and fun. Seriously, it does and I promise to post something of value when it finally happens.

For now, I'll give you a homework assignment: I want to hear about your tree toppers. What's on top of your Christmas Tree/Hanukkah Bush/Beer Bottle Tree/Drunk Stripper whatever you do or don't celebrate. In other words, if you have a tree, what's on top? If you don't have a tree, what decor are you rocking right now? (Sonya, you are exempt because you so amazingly posted a pic link to your tree on Day #2!! You set a fine example to the masses)

Good night all. Snuggle in and remember that Sugar Plums Dancing are really just circus midgets who broke into your home and are stealing your silverware.

On the 7th Day, I Rested...

If it weren't for the damned time stamps on everything in this computer controlled world, I could totally post this as though I hadn't missed the midnight deadline last evening, and all would appear right in the world. Alas, if I tried to get away with that, I believe Santa would check off "Naughty, for lying to her blog readers" next to my name. Fat Bastard.

My excuse, however, is that I worked yesterday from the ass crack of dawn (after working 12 hours at my job and then coming home to take an online final exam until stupid o'clock in the morning the prior evening) until 11am, ran home and threw together a marvelous traditional English turkey dinner because L's sister from Yorkshire, England and her fiance came to stay the night with us to celebrate an early holiday. It was a grand time, and we were up giggling until early morning while playing twisted word games and generally chatting up a storm. I adore them both. It was wonderful to have them both here, and it was great to be able to offer them the newly finished and gorgeous guest room upstairs. I was chuffed about it all, from cooking a fab meal to basking in happy memory making times with family.

So, sorry I missed the posting, but honestly, if your panties are in a bunch over this, you should get out more!

OH!!! Can someone, ANYONE please tell me how to frikking spell Chanukah? I found about 8 ways so far in various dictionaries, online resources and such. My fave so far? Hanaka. LMAO Can we at least TRY to spell it?

Day 6 of Christmas, Bitches!

So, I made it to day six. This in itself is a miracle, and I might have to start believing in Jesus Claus.

I'm working the long and late shift again, then running (or dashing?) through the snow to get home to take my Intercultural Communication final exam before midnight. Yes Virginia, there is a Jesus Claus, and he knows exactly what you want under the tree... a final exam! Oh Joy!

Something caught my attention last night before I lapsed into the unconscious abyss, so I'll share with you. It's actually about the economic situation in this country as it directly relates to my jobs and the people around me.

Special K brought it to my attention that the gas prices here in NJ are really damn good right now. I think they might even be a speck lower than when all the hoopla around the rising gas prices and gouging and the "Drill baby, drill" crap. So, the election happened, and our focus shifted to the car makers, and suddenly and without explanation, my gas prices went from about $5.00 a gallon to about $1.56 a gallon. I'm sorry - can I repeat that?

Months of anxiety and horrible $80.00 tank fill ups with no end in sight, struggling to make the second job worth the gas money, let alone extra income and with no fan fare, the prices just drop? Did the oil fairy come and leave it under my pillow? Did the government find a secret oil deposit on my land and they are siphoning it out while I sleep and selling it back to me? Seriously - it begs for an answer to "WHY did the prices fly high, and then why did they drop and no one says a word?" Something there to think about while cozying up to the fire.

Next subject. Coffeeland is anticipating trouble. They believe that after the new year, the percentage of people coming into the store will drop, and reduce profits enough to cause layoffs and store closings. To combat that, they've reduced the amount of labor they permit at a store per hour. My manager said it's about the amount of store traffic/people who will continue to come into the store daily. I think it's more about how much the people coming in are spending. Special K made the comment that the vast majority of people coming in are very young/high school/college/younger that have their own Prada shoes, Gucci sunglasses, A&F sweaters and platinum cards, driving in their Beemers. These are our bread and butter. We all agreed and felt a little more secure for our future until Fairy GodBoss mentioned that these young people are paying with and living in credit. Credit is running out in this country, and there is no more to be had. So these white-bread and butterballs are going to be shut down soon as well. Nothing could be more depressing than one of them in an outfit from Kohl's, driving a Hyundai. They'll all be crying while shooting up in the bathrooms in the malls.

I'm left thinking only that they were born too late to appreciate the irony of "My Future's So Bright (I Gotta Wear Shades)" by Timbuk 3.

The 5th Day of Holiday

Hello folks,

Yes, it's me. Yes, it's late. The two are connected. My Ligie just crawled in from work and into bed and simply has no energy, so I am standing in for her, for one night only. Whatever you do, don't try the veal.

Alice has been visited by the ghost of Christmas My-Mother-Had-Herpes, the poor mite, and has a giant zitlike growth on her bottom lip. We're not overly worried: she had one a few months ago and after a panicked rush to our vet, we were assured that it was kitty puberty. That said, this one's been there a while and is looking oh-so-sore, so I'm going to run her back in tomorrow.

Today was CFU's non-real-employee Holiday Party. The real employees have theirs tomorrow, off-site, all swanky-like. It's not like I'd go if they asked me (I still have lingering resentment), but they make me feel all Mafia, like "Someone's gotta teach these cats a lesson in respect." This made me feel antagonistic enough that I wore my "For Good Luck Rub My Tummy" shirt:

Hey, you made it a "Holiday Party." Celebrate this, bitches.

Which kinda, y'know, goes against all the Buddhist teachings. I still have a lot to learn.

I think it's the 4th Day, but to be honest I can't count.

Good Evening!

Last night was supremely busy at CoffeeLand. It was quite annoying at times, and with the staffing hours cuts, we were strapped to serve, stock and clean like we normally do. Other than that, Special K LOVED getting Jesus for Chrismahanukwanzibodhikaet.al. She seemed truly psyched about it, and that pleases me.

So today was a decent work day, and following work I had plans to go to a few stores with my padre to assist him with getting some gifts for my mother. Mind you, this is the same man who used to go to the local pharmacy and buy some gum or a button for my sister and I, and some random "only really available at a local pharmacy" type of perfume for my mother for Christmas. Now, to be fair, that's a step up from the days he used to sit in the living room while my sister and I opened presents and he'd be just as surprised as we were because he had NO clue what mom got us. He just didn't do it. Now that he's gotten older, has grand kids, and has a more comfortable monetary position in life, he's taken more of an interest and gets things and even wraps them himself. I'm actually kind of proud of the old so and so. He still needs a detailed list, but he's trying.

Tonight we were more than successful in getting just about everything on the list, and then we went on a "stocking stuffer" run. It was really fun to do it with him, and I was getting stuffers for the gremlins I live with as well, so we were chatting about the best stuff and had a great time. We grabbed a bite to eat after, and then he followed me home so I could give him some stuff to bring to mom's and he could see the house/tree. I could swear I saw his eyes glisten when he walked in and saw the house and the tree. We don't really say very much out loud, so to me, one look was all it took to actually feel like I made him a little proud, and that he enjoyed my company tonight. It was a really cool moment for my dad and I.

Really cool.

This 3rd Day of Christmas Postings

Mew Ha! Ha! I'm so pleased with myself for finding the time to continue this as promised. Too bad I got very few ideas emailed/commented in from the fan base to add to the countdown. Honestly? Let me share one of the few:

"countdown is a good ideas. maybe you can list the stuff you want for presents and things. or you could make fun of presents or things"

Thanks so much. I never could have thought of that "ideas" on my own. You should have your own blog. Go hold your breath until I tell you to stop.


Anyway, on the 3rd day, I wanted to share with you a gift I bought for my friend Special K. She asked for it, so who am I to deny her?? Besides, it brought me much joy and blasphemous playtime for the week it's been in my home waiting for me to bring it to her. I know I say "Live and let live", but I'm allowed creative license too, right? Here it is!

Jesus, in all his swimmer's build glory.




Now come on how cool is that?! What you can't see is that he is a talking action figure. He recites stories and passages from the bible. My guess is that they originally made him so that the Vatican could take vacations, and set the life-sized version up in the window so all the good Roman Catholics would continue to behave if they thought they were being watched by Jesus. I don't know who they think they are fooling, if the same people won't be good while knowing Santa is watching. Anyway, look the doll up. The makers are One2Believe.com, so you can see I'm not just bashing and being biased. If you have a serious interest, that's cool. If you are like me, you might want to see it merely from the nostalgic standpoint of someone who had GI Joe dolls. No joke, the Savior is RIPPED! His chest is bigger than the wrestler action figures that are out. It's like they stuck his head on a Hulk doll! They have Mary and others as well, but I don't think she's quite as big a draw.

Anyway, enjoy all. I'm off to CoffeeLand, and I'm sure, a little hate mail. Don't like it? Send me countdown suggestions that don't suck!

On the 2nd Day of Christmas, your Blogger Gives to You...

A post just as promised, so I can prove to my grade school teachers that I can follow through, they were wrong, and they will rot in hell.

This post is going to be more about the 3 things that made me smile today, rather than all the stupid little things that went wrong. Those will be added to the inevitable tide of other wrong things that are bound to happen tomorrow. Yay optimism!

So today brought me insane happiness with the fully finished and lit tree in the living room. I don't even celebrate Christmas; we celebrate Bodhi Day within the traditions of Buddhism, but I am a sucker for a bit of nostalgic tradition, and my entire family celebrates Christmas, so why not have fun. This can be seen as my very open and accepting attitude of other beliefs and practices, or as one more way I will confuse my own children with too many options. I'm such an Aquarium. Wait, Aquarian.

So, the tree:

The second thing from today was spending the afternoon at my mom's house, working at a semi-new tradition of making fresh gingerbread cookies for the holiday. We listened to the "Charlie Brown's Christmas" cd I brought (I did a Snoopy dance) and baked and chatted. It was really nice, and my cookies are shaped as reindeer. I rule.

So, the cookies:

The third thing just happened as we opened our mail tonight. We got a Christmas card from Lisa's brother Chris, his wife Rach, and the ever lovely little 'lizbeth. The card was cute, and when we opened it, there was a message that it was special. We turn it over, and it's a card from 'lizbeth's school, and the top says "design created by:" and her name!! How awesome is that? It's kind of a 3 eyed angel on crack, and it's gorgeous!

So, the card, designed by family: (It's better than Lisa can do any day!)

Have a great night... until tomorrow.

By the Skin of my Teeth - The 1st Day of Christmas

Ok, hiatus over.
Ok, not really a hiatus, more like a phlegm-fest sinus and chest cold that's lingering like a one night stand at the door in the morning claiming to have lost a shoe.

Whatever the case, I am here, as promised with the first edition. Sadly, I have very little to bitch about because as of this afternoon, the house is - done. Yep. Done. Dusted. Gorgeous. Done. I was even able to put up our tree and decorate with L. It was really all very nice.
Oh!

What I CAN do is relate to you what this post would have been if events had not happened as they did. Let's pretend that S. was unable to transfer his stuff from the living room to the newly finished upstairs by today, and I had been unable to clean that area, set up the tree, and get things done. It has very little to do with S., and more about my freakish and fierce expectations for myself and those around me at times. If this had been the case, these are the mentionables I'd be angry about from this week...



I have a hard-on for every stupid little pedestrian who decided that crosswalks were just too inconvenient and bothersome to deal with, and that it's better to dart out in front of me with a gaggle of children in tow, inevitably allowing more and more people to take advantage of my yielded position and follow suit. Honestly - these are placed on every fucking corner in my city. Use them. Seriously, use them or I might cut my own brakes as a legal excuse to mow your asses down. It wasn't even cold the last few days. Will the few extra steps kill you?

WalMart. People. Seriously. I know it's a huge sale in the fancy indoor garage sale store, but to run down and trample someone to death? The shirt is a cotton/poly blend. I'm certain you could have bought it 5 minutes later, and you'll still look as trashy.

Lawn Decor. Please use your heads and be respectful. I have 2 small lit wire deer on my front lawn and a red bow on my door. My next door neighbour has 2 deer and has the roof outline of his home in the white icicle lights and red bows down this fence. The guy across the street? At least 3 huge blow up "fixtures" or whatever you call the gigantor hot air balloons shaped like animals and Santas. I think he has a penguin. Where can you find a penguin in NJ? On his lawn. then there are the millions of lights. Some blink, some don't. Colors mixed. Random other "stick this into the ground" decorations and a few religious overtones to boot. That house isn't exactly the Griswold's house, but it's annoying enough because they LEAVE THE LIGHTS ON ALL FREAKING NIGHT! You either create a nice decor, or you make the house that's on YouTube that lights to the Christmas music, but things in between are just plain obnoxious and unacceptable. PSE&G should cut your power. I might go ballistic and stab your inflatable snowman in a fit of rage. Don't test me... I'll gut him like a pig.


So, that's it for this edition. I promise, the next will be more organized and concise. Tune in tomorrow for it, and in the meantime, here's a holiday tip:

When finishing the tree trimming, forget stringing popcorn for that relaxing, olde-timey feeling. String up Xanax instead. Then, when stress gets bad, you can gnaw on the tree and watch your cares float away in the twinkling lights!




...

Actually Overheard, To My Chagrin

A hallway inside CFU. Two girls and a boy are talking about how they're all failing a particular class. They are more valley-sounding than any valley girl I ever met. And I've met valley girls.

Girl 1: (to the boy) Wait, aren't you, like, from my career development class?
Boy: Huh huh huh. Yeah.
Girl 2: Like, Oh my God! I totally know where I recognize you from now. At first I was like... "No", but then I was like..."Yeah", then I was like..."No", but now I'm like "Yeah!"

I think I have an inkling why you're failing college, sweetie.

Seasonal Asshat Disorder

ok, ok, I know the real disorder is nothing to laugh about (bah-dum-dum!) but so far this year, just about everyone I encounter can be compared to a port-a-john in the summer. I feel like I have to watch where I step, I'd rather be elsewhere, and they are full of shit. Not only that, but once you've come in contact with one, chances are the shit got on you, and you tend to spread it wherever you go. Unlike the other disorder, there's no lightbulb to buy that can help.

So the recent asshats of note are the parking lot stalkers, the familes that need to shop together (like a family of 6 who bring their kids to WallyWorld) for everything and let them run ragged through the store screaming, the people who trample others to death AND the people who rushed past the trampled people to get $5 off a television they don't even need, and the people claiming they can't afford to provide us with adequate healthcare benefits anymore, and the whiteshirts who drive around in brand new government provided fully loaded cars when we can't even get basic equipment to keep our facility running... people like that.

Meh, this turned into a small rant, so I'll stop for now. Maybe I'll post a "12 Asshats of Christmas" edition later tonight or tomorrow. I'll take suggestions, and credit them when I post. Email @ SheSquared@gmail.com or comment.

Stupid Turkey!

It's that time of year, when we gather around the table to worship the poultrilicious offering that we enjoy shoveling stale bread up the ass of, cooking, then hacking into every November. After the food coma, some people hide away for the day, others begin to draw strategic maps and equip stealth outfits to sneak from the house early the next morning to slash and hack their way through the Black Friday sales. Still others will vegetate in front of the football games and Macy parades.

This year you will find Lisa, Pahee and myself upstairs in the house, rolling paint and primer and hammering the last few nails before the flooring goes in. By the afternoon, I will get dressed and head off to CoffeeLand where I will work the full closing shift. Joy. About the same time, Pahee and Lisa will set off to Newark to see Tina Turner in concert - Lisa's B-Day pressie to Pahee.

(and did any of you know that Ms Turner has a birthday today - 69 years old!! Cripes! I hope to have legs like that and a functioning brain at that age, let alone be able to shake my ass while belting out songs to thousands of people... I'll most likely be a drooling mess if Lisa hasn't had me euthanized by then.)

So, if you are inclined, stop in and grab a cup of coffee and chat with me. If not, enjoy your day everyone no matter what your plans. Turkey, to-furkey, or a hungry man meal - just be happy. I'm off to measure Alice... she might make a pleasant change from the traditional fare.


***Oh, and a quick story to pass along that our dear friend Lynn in NH has relayed to us a bunch of times - the turkeys on her brother in law's farm are completely stupid, and every year they lose a few to "natural accidents" - the look up to see what is hitting them in the head when it's raining, and many of them drown. Seriously. No joke. I feel less evil for eating them now.

Not Quite What I Was Expecting

Yesterday at work, one of our regular students came to me for some help. In the interests of setting the scene adequately, thus burning the very same images into your brain that currently torture me, I shall describe in minimal, but effective detail.

This student, let's call her Jasmine, is a tall black woman, in her 30s, with two large...ahem...attributes that often befall women of her ethnic background. Her personality can only be referred to as 'needing-to-switch-to-decaf.' She's very lovely, but completely overwhelming with a mouth that never stops moving.

Jasmine is doing a report on "I Dream of Jeannie", and needed my help getting a small movie clip to show up in PowerPoint. So, I tell her to grab a computer, and I'll help her out. We started up a new PowerPoint presentation, and I clicked on the 'Insert Media Clip' icon. There were three movie files stored in the My Documents folder, innocuously titled 1, 2, and 3. I'm only running through it quickly as an example, and to see if it works, so I select the third file. It pops up.

Well, to be more precise, what pops up is a pornographic video. With reaction speeds known only to Lewis Hamilton, I closed the file. Instantly. I'm blushing, Jasmine is yelling "Oh my God, who would have something like that on their computer?!". So, I did a quick Ctrl+Alt+Del.

Yeah, you guessed it: it was her computer.

Think it stops there? Far from it. Yes, I might have lightning fast reaction skills, but I also have a photographic memory. Not only was it Jasmine's video; it was also Jasmine in the video. Naked, spreadeagled, and did I mention the size of the mouth earlier?

Some things...just can't be unseen.

The Trouble With Badgers

I will have to take some photos and post them, but I am a little unsettled. I think this man in our home is a doppelganger. I fear the real Pahee is being held captive - perhaps by a band of very unruly female badgers who jumped him in the airport terminal and are holding him hostage to impregnate them so they can raise a hybridbadger race that have little fashion sense, a great accent, and less hair - and they sent us a decoy to keep us from looking for him.

The mistake they made? The replacement "guy" arrived with this awesome manly facial hair, a solid dark button up shirt and a flannel coat.

Ha! Silly Badgers. I know better. The real Pahee screams like a girl and wears salmon colored shirts. I've also not known him to allow his head to compete with his face for hair. He's not that cruel to his head.

Swinging From The Rafters

I can no longer see from the 2nd floor of my house down through the basement! That means the evil, huge, loathsome project is nearing an end.

Putting aside my insurmountable frustration over the whole thing, I'll update you on the happy details of the rooms being completely rocked and mudded and ready for paint as of today. I am striking a deal with the same contractor (the one who is doing the sheet rock, did the original shell and framing work, did the rough plumbing, and did all the plans in general and I should have just had do the entire job to keep things simple and calm - but NOOO I'm a megagooberidiot©) to finish the job with hardwood floors through the top level. If it's a go, this can be done very soon, and before Pahee leaves! That means everyone can be in their respective rooms and living comfortably now. that has been my bigger issue all along. I can't stand putting people out.

Hopefully this will all work out. If not, look for my resume at the bottom of the Hudson River.

Ascending Steps From the Depths

Oooooh. That's right. I took left jabs, right hooks, body slams and more these past few weeks. I thought long and hard about making posts about it all. When it came down to it, I decided not to.

I didn't want to flood what I think is a perfectly good bloggity blog that entertains and informs people with unending wrapping whining text drivel that bemoans the ever asked - "Why Me!!??" with virtual sobbing noises and Nancy Kerrigan video clips I could have looped into the background. What caused all of this to come about? Let me only say, for a period of time I will not be addressing these topics:

~Progression of the house addition
~Status of my employment
~Tension levels at both places
~Status of the country
~Prop 8
~Health

and anything that begins with the letter "J". I'm not certain why... I'm just certain.

So, with nothing really said or done, let me move on to whatever the week brings us! Exciting news - Pahee will be arriving Wed to spend a nice bit of time with us. I'm looking forward to that! Good to be back.

Addendum

Approximately 10 minutes after this post yesterday, it was brought to my attention that Alice was hungry. Because her bowl had been licked clean of her hard, crunchy food.

Now I understand. Shower affection on those who might feed you. Just like her mother.

Clingy Kitty

Alice has been particularly clingy today, barely letting me out of her sight, and determined to climb on me when it looked as though I was attempting to do something else. Like work. Or breathe.



I guess Alice knows today has been a tough day for my sweetie (who I'm sure will update in due course), and in Barbara's absence due to the two jobs, has decided that I will have to accept all the love and support she has. It's a tough job, but I'll manage.

On Irrational Adoption Fears

Sometimes, I don't know how Barbara puts up with me. Last night was one of those times.

For some reason, I have been desperately craving a baby recently, and not in that edible way. More in the Elvira hug-them-and-squeeze-them-and-love-them way. What with it not being something we're able to do soon for many reasons - some legalities, some financial - the question of "To Carry or to Adopt" has arisen. Last night, driving home, I was contemplating adoption. I was clearly low on medicinal dosage because my train of thought decided that, because I'm a little messed up, physically and mentally, it would be best to adopt. Besides, there are < insert huge large number here > of children who need love, and we have plenty of that to offer. With just a small side of insanity. And beetroot.

But - and here's where I flew off the rocker - I have a fear. I am irrationally afraid that I will have stupid expectations for our child, and when he or she falls short of those expectations, I will decide that we picked the wrong child. And want to take that one back and get the 'right' one.

I know, it's ridiculous. I even asked my girl last night what we would do if we got the name wrong. Like, 3 years down the line, we adopted another and decided that actually, this one fit the first one's name better. Thankfully, she only laughed until one side split, so the sutures were minimal.

So tonight, I'll be laying off the cheese/caffeine/crazy pills and trying not to think. I think that'd be best for everyone.

Visual Basic Variables

Today, while tutoring a student in Visual Basic, I referred to the variables in such a way as to incur an observation from her. I described the newly-declared variables as having that squiggly green line underneath them as a warning, rather than as an error message. The green line simply means that the variable hasn't been used yet, and serves as a reminder to the user that they're there. In essence, the variable is calling out: "Hey, don't forget about me!"

My student remarked that it was obvious I had children, and young ones at that. Imagine her surprise when I remarked that I was indeed the mother of a very troublesome minx of a 5-year-old cat. Hey, sometimes Alice needs things explained to her in simple terms.

What Started Out as Friendship Has Grown Stronger

On Monday afternoon, at approximately 4:45pm, my Adviser sent in my application for an EAD. Unless you absolutely have to, don't click on that link. Trust me. It's not worth the headache. I mean, I hope it will be worth the headache...you know what I mean. Pesky grammarians...always waiting for me to slip up.

Essentially what this means is that, all being well, I will be receiving a card in the next few months that will allow me to start work at the beginning of March, immediately after graduation. I'm really excited. It's such a cute little place, with phenomenal technology and just a really nice atmosphere. So far. Let me at least start working there before I notice the cracks!

Today, I popped in to spend a little time with DR and BossMan, among others, and got to talking with them. Naturally, the election came up, and with it, Prop 8. Somehow, I managed to convince BossMan that he should create a bumper sticker that says: Chickens, out of the closet; Gays, back in.

It was a really nice, cute little moment, and it makes me feel a fair bit safer knowing that BossMan is a huge raving liberal. And making a joke out of it almost made me forget the seriousness behind it. Until I got home and saw this cartoon:


^{By the genius, Tom Toles}

So this is my obligatory political post, before I give up hope:





Stay strong, California. We're with you.

Discussions From The Dashboard

Short, sharp, and quick witted conversations are only one reason why I love L so very much. Tonight in the granny van:

Lisa: The Republican party is so concerned about the government staying out of their wallets. Yet, it's fine for the government to come into our bedrooms?

Me: Wait, what if I keep my wallet in our bedroom? What then?

Right Place, Right Time

As I stepped outside to take some pictures of the house this morning (we're still in the middle of all the construction, so I feel it is somewhat justified, even if just as a progress account), I was greeted by Mr. Squirrel at the bottom of the driveway. I just happened to have the camera around my neck, and managed to snap a few pics of him and his ginormous nut. Way to go, Mr. Squirrel. May you and your family feast for days!

Look What the Gays are Doing to the Soil

I am not coherent or rational enough today to be able to properly express myself with the elegance and lucidity that my love did, so I'm just going to leave you with a picture. I think it pretty much sums up my feelings right now.

How long until we realize just how socially unequal we are behaving? What will it take? Perhaps it's time for The Gays to get tax breaks since they don't enjoy equal protection or the same rights as others. That seems fair, right? Not enough of a person to marry who I choose? Screw your taxes, then.

The More Things Change, The More They Stay The Same

Welcome to the 100th post of the SheSquared blog! We are thrilled to have you all here, and thank you, as always, for allowing us to entertain you. We hope you continue to consider us as family. Get your feet off my coffee table.

So, the big night is over. My hope was that after all votes were tallied and everyone settled down, this country could begin to focus on unity, equality, and tolerance as we move forward. I'm not sombamaone who believes you should present your obamaliefs about your voting chobamices, but I'm sure people will draw cobamaclusions as to mine. So, I am hopeful for the future of the nation. I am disheartened, however, about the number of places where state by state, people voted to increase hatred and discrimination. California somehow passed Prop 8 by an insanely narrow margin, but it passed. Bigots and religious fear mongers everywhere are rejoicing and celebrating, most likely by burning the goats and sheep they just had sex with.

I am not giving up hope. It is my hope that someday, one of our political leaders will understand that our country has the separation of church and state. To think it should be any other way is ignorant. There are so many religions and churches - how is any one particular one supposed to be able to claim to be "the one" church in that equation? To have it be their values and preferences that should be imposed upon the nation? The state/nation is supposed to be protecting the rights and equal representation of it's citizens. That means all have the right to marry whom they choose. The churches also have rights. They have the right to refuse a ceremony to individuals who they feel violate their values. Therefore, all citizens should have the right to legal unions - a signed paper from the state decreeing that those two people are joined and are responsible for all state/legal matters that pertain to them and their children. If, after that, these people wish to have a ceremony, then it's up to the people having it to decide upon the venue and religion, if they choose one. The churches can say no to homosexual marriage. They won't have to sanctify it if they choose not to, however, they cannot interfere with the rights bestowed upon them by the federal government.

Why, I ask, does no one else see this? Why do all leaders think it is an all or nothing issue? Marriage is not a point to fight over. Legally, for equality for all citizens, it needs to be a federally recognized action available to every person who wishes to spend their lives with someone. This does not go against any church because it does not force them to 'perform' marriages or anything of the like if they do not want to. It's not like I'd want to beat down their door and force them to hold a ceremony for me when I know that the words coming from the priest would be seething contempt and hatred behind a glassy smile. I'd rather celebrate the happiest moment of my life with family and friends.

Overheard This Morning

A street corner, somewhere in Central New Jersey...we join them as their argument is nearing its close:

Girl: I can't believe you embarrassed me in front of my parents like that.
Boy: Eh, I'm sorry babe, things happen. You know how it is.
Girl: Right now I'm not sure I even want to continue this relationship.
Boy: Well, that's up to you. Me? I could go either way with it.

Now that's a man who knows how to talk to the ladies...

Merry Bi-Polar Halloweenie

Ok, I LOVE Halloween. Love it. This year, with all the life stress and general crap going on, I honestly don't give a crap. It's Alice's 5th birthday, so I'm psyched for that reason.

I keep oscillating from "Oh! I want to take my nieces out Trick or Treating and freeze and giggle and drink hot chocolate with them!" to "I want to stay home, lock the door, and turn out the lights." So, what gives? A few days ago I was set to have the outside fire pit burning and pass candy out to little ghouls and goblins. Now I am pondering lining the driveway with mouse and bear traps and our pumpkins are on the porch, uncarved. What gives? Why am I so damned indifferent?

Meh.

Well, here's a good photo of Alice in her costume. We were going to have her out there with us to give out candy, but now who knows?

Tick Tock, Tick Tock

My biological clock, that thing I never really believed existed, has been running on Duracell recently. And by recently I mean the last 2 years, with the batteries getting stronger every day.

In hindsight, heading over to the baby section in the local Halloween store was a bad idea.



Say it with me now: Uter-Yoink!

Out Of A Foxhole & Into A Cave

Shhhhhh! I'm gonna have to whisper and stay low. Things here are still hot, and there's no rain in sight. Good thing I have Internet access down here, or I'd go crazy(er)! So, an update from behind enemy lines:

I came to the conclusion that I am alone in this fight - abandoned by the "collective group" that I paid dues to for protection and guidance and who instead are the ones creating this catastrophe, and I'm blamed/ostracized by my own department for what has taken place. I feel like at some point during the night, I was branded with a big Scarlet Letter. I'd love to know what it is, but I can't read upside down and in the mirror it's backwards. Whatever they have branded me, I have resolved to do the following -

I'm keeping my head low and continuing to do my work.
I'm not listening to any of the wild flying rumors.
I'm not participating in conversations about this issue.
I'm steering clear of individuals who may see this as an opportunity of weakness on my part.
I'm focusing on other important things, rather than work up my hysteria.

Do you know I actually heard someone say something about how a liberal woman has no place in this business anyway? WOW.

Someone drag me by my hair back to the cave so I can make fire and chisel a wheel.

On Uncertainty and Barnyard Animals

By the title, this could have been NSFW, but it's fine. I'm going to be vague and dodgy, as things are not 100% finalized, and I can't risk any further damage points. My life meter is low, and I have -3 stamina. One more hit from a beastie and I'm toast with no revive button!

Employment is the topic of uncertainty. It looks like all I have worked for the past 6 years is about to be demolished. It is also apparent that since it applies to me entire department, I am being used as the scapegoat that is making this disaster possible.

So not only am I in flux with my own future, but I am being blamed for the flux that is affecting the futures of others. For those of you who know me, I'm not good about guilt. I eat a plate for breakfast, and if it stays down, I can snack on it all day until my insides are torn to bits.

Keep me in some good, positive, meditative thoughts, ok kids? I can see my own tethered rope beginning to fray. I can't afford to come unravelled now.

Bawm Chicka Bawm Bawm...

Yes, coming to you live from New Jersey, it's....Safe For Work Porn!

A Fatal Error

Last night, as my sweetie drifted off to sleep, I got out of bed to use the bathroom. In hindsight, with the ongoing construction, leaving the bedroom door open for the split second I was going to be absent was a bad move. I then spent the next 20 minutes chasing one very adorable, if wily and toddler-esque Captain Alice around the house. With a sleeping boy in the living room and girl in the bedroom, we ran into the basement, out of the basement, up the stairs, down the stairs, under Daddy's bed, into the hole in the kitchen wall, into the bathroom, and down into the basement again before finally I managed to catch her.

I keep thinking she's sorry for making me run around in my undies. Then she smirks. I'm just a sucker for this face:

If you look real quick...

...You too might see a crowd-surfing baby.



Oh, and there's Michelle Obama. Huh.

ohmygodcanwejuststopandthink?

I know I'm opening myself up for attacks left and right (ok, mostly right) but today has been one of those days that opens my eyes to a lot of similar things, and I need to make a comment.

I'm not particularly doing cartwheels over either choice in this election. I'm not going to pretend that I think one party is all roses while the other sows dresses for Satan's prom. I am going to say that I am paying very close attention (ie: not just listening to CNN, FOX, or other soundbites considered "news") to all things going on and all the things being said (and not said). While I think both choices present reasons they suck the wind from my ass, I know that one choice would set us back (us being any liberally minded person who wishes to hold onto any rights separate from the Catholic church) a million gazillion years, and it terrifies me.

I try to have some sense of trust in the general sway of reason over the people who are voting in two weeks, but I am beginning to see by the comments and postings all over the intertubes and on television that this is not to be. There are a huge number of "you" (you know who you all are) who just will NOT peel apart the layers of what you believe in, what you deem is "a right way to live" versus the reality and idea that there are so many millions of people who share the same country but NOT the same ideas, and they deserve to live as freely as you do.

Whew. That needed to be said. If I ruled the world, I can assure you, hem lines would legally required to be higher - but everyone would have the right to wear pants instead. Do you catch my drift? Are you picking up what I'm putting down?

Think for yourselves. Do not bleat and baaah. Do not confuse rights that are due to you equally as a person of this nation with the ideals of the religion you wish to follow. More importantly, do not confuse mine.

Seeds In My Teeth

It used to be that some holidays were for everyone - and Halloween was the best example of that. The only real "cost" of Halloween was the candy, or in the case of some houses on my block, the tape to wrap 5 pennies together, to give out to the kids. Costumes were inventive and usually consisted of stuff found around the house. Pumpkins were the cheapest veggie on the market (no pun intended) and your goody sack was an old pillowcase. Actually, you got a bonus on Halloween from your pumpkin because not only did you carve it and light it with a candle and show it with pride, but when you gutted it, you could dry and bake the seeds and happily munch on 'free' snacks for the next few days.

I decided to rant briefly when I was looking around for a really intricate pattern to carve on my pumpkin this year. Ok, what I meant to say was a pattern to carve on the down payment for a new car that calls itself a pumpkin. When did this orange lump become such an expense? Seriously, I didn't expect an average sized pumpkin to cost me $10 bucks! I wasn't really paying attention while in line to weight it, and then almost died when the family in front of me bought 4 big pumpkins and a gallon of cider and forked over $100! That sucked some of the fun out of it, but I was determined to stay positive.

My niece wanted a costume of an anime character. I told her we could make one easily, and she scoffed and said it would need to be bought. So much for the home-spun costumes that cost very little, but the one she wanted went for no less than $60 PLUS shipping anywhere online. She also made a comment about the types of candy given out, and how some houses weren't "worth it" to stop at because they had smaller, crappy candy. What?? It's still free candy!! Going T&T'ing was all about running around with your friends from house to house. We went to all the houses that were lit up, regardless of what the booty was from them. Now there's a politics to the candy? (Side Note - last year when I took the nieces around, one house actually wrapped the candy in political ads for the local council nominees! WTF?)

But last night, I wanted to find a decent pattern to use as a guide to carve a really great image on my pumpkin. Now, I'm no slacker. In fact I pride myself on creating really difficult and interestingly scary scenes on the flesh of the veggie. I just thought that with the design I had in mind, I could use a little guide so I didn't mess up the $10 pumpkin. So, I hunted online. Every page and every site that advertised and professed to have what I needed was a "members only" or "pay to view/download" gimmick. I must have gone through about 35 different sites and pages before giving up in disgust. It's a pumpkin carving design, made from a character from a movie. I will muddle through and do it myself and hope for the best. I'm just disgruntled that a fun and economically friendly holiday that I really cherished has turned into a profit mongering event also used to peddle political agendas with candy and fear (as exhibited by the Maryland decision about sex offenders. The jury on my head is still out about whether or not that was a wise idea).

So, sorry for the rant. I'll be the grumpy aunt driving her nieces from street to street in their purchased costumes to selectively pick up politically active candy from possible pedophiles and even worse - lonely old people. Oh, and look for my hand carved pumpkin design to appear in a later post!

Happy Hallow's All!

A Great Run!

It hurts me to say it, but this year's season is over for my Boys. Last night, we lost game 7 of the playoffs.

It doesn't hurt me as much as it could. We finished the season only one game different than we did last year. We still played better than and beat the hell out of the Yankees. We still got farther into the season than the Dodgers/Manny. We continue to prove that as some players come and go, we function as a team and get the job done. I'm proud to be a long time fan of the greatest baseball team evar!

Until next year, Go BoSox!

Because I'm Feeling Saucy!

I give this gift to you, my readers. Enjoy, turn up the sound, and be sure to click everything you can. Surprises lurk in every area. I keep restarting it and playing again and again. I'm such a child.

http://www.palinaspresident.com/

Job Update

I've bored you senseless with tales of my stress over this particular job, so it seems only fair that I keep you updated and 'in-the-loop'. See? I'm ready to go back into the business world, I've got the lingo down pat. And Roger.

I was going out of my tiny mind. It's not a far trip, but I was rapidly approaching my destination for a while there last week. On several occasions, I reduced myself to tears by being my very own worst critic. I was ready to throw in the towel. Then, a professor at CFU who I don't actually know happened to walk by my desk while I was oh-so-carefully smashing my skull into it, and offered his assistance. I explained the problem. He decided he wanted to start from scratch with it. I shan't bore you with the details any more than I already have, but essentially, I had a 2-hour intensive brainstorming session with this chap, who ended up working through the problem in the exact same way I did. And reaching a solution.

To be quite honest, if he'd managed to solve the problem any other way, I would have thrown the towel in and not submitted the problem. What's the point, if I didn't do it myself? The fact is though, that he switched a couple of lines of my code around within itself, and made it do what it should do. I was on the right track. I was this close.

Exhilarated and somewhat exhausted, I submitted the project late on Wednesday night, and at 10am the following morning received an email from BossMan, offering me the position. Man, I was ecstatic! Overjoyed, I forwarded his email to my sweetie, and the members of my family, and got to work on finding out what the next step is from here, immigration-wise. I was so excited, in fact, that I forgot to respond to his email.

Yes. In my overwhelmed, overjoyed, over-the-moon state of mind, I forgot to accept the job.

Yesterday, I get a frantic phone call from DR, saying that BossMan wants to know what the hell the deal is, do I want the job or not, will I ever write back? *smacks self* Hard. I responded instantly, although I haven't heard back from him yet.

So...erm...keep your fingers crossed that he doesn't think I'm a complete moron? I'd appreciate it.

A Philly-Based PSA

I'm not sure who misread and then distributed the memo... but be advised that wearing hooker high heels does NOT constitute a "dressy" outfit. Those are still crappy too-short jeans that don't fit well, complimented by a Walmart shirt you haven't washed in weeks. The cotton socklets don't help either.

Stay Back, it's Contagious

*cough* *splutter* *drags self to computer*

Good evening, one and all, and welcome to your scheduled weekly visit to She Squared. The management asks that you please remain seated, and at a safe distance, so as not to infect yourselves.

Yes, yes, we have man-flu. Both of us. All three of us, actually. Scott, not Alice! Oddly enough, "She who attracts every possible, and impossible disease" remains unaffected by the sinusitis and bronchitis that is slowly and noisily working its way around our house. Our house with no roof, I might add.





For anyone who tells you what an easy ride immigrants have of it, please refer them to their local pharmacy with a prescription and no insurance, which is where I spent Alice's college fund far too much money on antibiotics this morning. Then ask them, politely of course, to crawl into the nearest ditch and stay there.

CoffeeLand Quotes

Overheard by Special K and myself the other night:

Table of 2 giggling high school (possibly college) girls speaking in what can only be described as a newly re affected "Valley Girl"-type voices:

Annoying Girl #1: I don't know, but did you see her? *cocks head to the side*

Annoying Girl #2: Oh, I totally did, and she was pretty!

Annoying Girl #1: So Pretty! *smacks the table for emphasis*

Annoying Girl #2: Not just pretty, Abercrombie Pretty!

Annoying Girl #1: *nods gravely*



Not only did that conversation suck part of my brain from my head, but it left Special K and I wondering two things -
1-If that girl was Abercrombie Pretty, does that make Special K and I WalMart Pretty, or Perhaps Target Pretty? K thinks she could be Fashion Bug Pretty. I'm not sure I'd qualify for anything more than Thrift Store Pretty.
2-If that girl was Abercrombie Pretty, does that mean she's a half-naked, androgynous, heroin thin black and white on a billboard kind of pretty, because that's what I remember A&F being.

Just a thought.

A Public Service Announcement

For those of you who know and love her, I am posting a PSA that my sister emailed me the other day. I laughed so hard I think I gave birth to a baby seal. (FYI to all Right Wingers - Don't panic about my homo ass spawning baby seal kids - I clubbed it right away. Just kidding, I sold it. Just kidding, I kept it and plan to raise it in such a way as to somehow negatively impact your lives and ruin the world just like you have been saying "teh Gays" would. Just kidding. Maybe.)

Now, the email w/o any editing - and I LOVE the last line:
___________________

Oh. My. Ever. Loving. God.

This is enough to make me thank my OB for tying my tubes in 2002.

I just read that Jamie Lynn Spears (the infamous sister of Britney Poptard Spears), who just turned 17 and had her FIRST baby just a mere 3 months ago in June, is PREGNANT AGAIN. Allegedly there was a quote by the celebutard and it says "I had no idea you could get pregnant while breastfeeding!"

WHAT?!? Oh, maybe she got knocked up by sitting on a dirty toilet seat. It could happen. Look at her sister!

While scrambling to get her GED last year to prove to America's disappointed tween fans she "is too smart, y'all!," she obviously did not pay attention to her health teacher; seriously--I think she missed that part because she was in the ladies room, queasy from morning sickness, BECAUSE SHE WAS PREGNANT!

ATTENTION ALL DISNEY CHANNEL ACTRESSES AND SOON-TO-BE UNEMPLOYED CHILD STARS: Your vagina is not a clown car. Thank you.

Audience Participation Requested

Hello Freaks and Fairies.

I'm putting together an updated Hallowe'en iPod playlist version 2.08. I have my usual goodies like "Halloween" by Siouxsee and the Banshees, "Everyday is Halloween" by Ministry, and yes, even "Bela Lugosi's Dead" by Bauhaus. (and before you jump on it, I have most of the Nightmare Before Christmas on there) Actually I have over 60 songs so far, with some still being considered and others heading to the chopping block.

If any of you have funky ideas or suggestions to add to my list, please comment. I'll take anything from Alice Cooper to the Misfits. Please do NOT insult me by suggesting "Monster Mash". That crap will not be considered!

Reach deep into your freakish and seriously depraived minds and iTunes, kiddies. I'm looking for blood and glory here.

Muah Ha Ha!!!

No Marriage For You. Bad Gay.

I've been a little full of rage today, and it's taken me until now to figure out why: the debate. I should have known better than to watch 5 seconds of it, let alone the 45 minutes that I managed to make it through without barfing. I'm not a very political person, really. I don't know all the issues, I don't understand this $700 billion bailout, and I don't understand why Sarah Palin, John McCain, Joe Biden, and Barack Obama are so terribly threatened by the idea of me marrying my girl.

I have absolutely ZERO interest what goes on in the privacy of your bedroom, unless it involves children or animals. Two lifeforms that can't speak up for themselves and give their consent, or voice their refusal. Say it with me, people: Gay Marriage will not make it possible for people to marry their goat.

I can't really speak about this very eloquently, but let the record state that I am trying my utmost not to be a negative person. I spent many a year in that state, and like to think that the happy, laughing individual I propagate is finding its roots in me. Sooner or later, we all become what we pretend to be, right?

So last night, I lay in bed alone, trying to figure out the way forward, and my tiny, over-reactive brain said that Canada was the way forward. It isn't, but it took me a while to talk myself down from that. What I need to do is get a job, hopefully this job, and do things the hard way, but the legal way. Take the road that many have to, work for the set amount of years on an H-1B visa, before finally being allowed to switch over to permanent residency, and then eventually, perhaps citizenship.

And I'll do that, but it's not fair. My sister is getting married to a wonderful guy who lives in Delaware, and her road here is going to be far from easy, but she has that option. "I fell in love, and we want to be together" that the American government will accept and say, "OK, in you come." Heck, Bob down the street can bring in a mail-order bride if he finally gets sick of being alone and that's okay too. Just, y'know, as long as it's legitimate. And why wouldn't it be? Oh, that's right, because the faggots are destroying the sanctity of marriage.

On Bizarre Conversations

Dunkin Donuts, after ordering a medium iced Mocha Latte...

DD Employee:(handing me my drink) Mocha Latte?
Me: Thank you.
DD Employee: Did you say "pancake"?
Me: Noooo, I said "Thank you".
DD Employee: Did you order a Mocha Latte?
Me: Yes.
DD Employee:(taking the drink back) Well this is Caramel.

The Politics of Dancing

I was once a decent looking gal, and I certainly know my dancing. (wink wink nudge nudge *cough* poles & g-strings)
But I saw some photos taken at a wedding I attended with Lisa this past weekend and the only word I can think of to describe the way I look is "special". Wait, here are a few more:

Epileptic
Jerky
Moronic
Unflattering

The only people who would have put money in my pants that night would have been kind folks trying to help someone down on their luck buy a cup of coffee. I still have splinters from where someone tried to shove a popsicle stick in my mouth so I didn't bite off my tongue.
(and I'm being very kind to myself)

Two More Pics From the Brower wedding

These are for you, Whitty!

This is my sweetie and I, all loved up because of the wedding. Yeah, 'cos of the wedding. We're not complete mushballs all the time. Shut up.



And this is me with some of my favorite people, being as ridiculous as can possibly be! Man, but I love these girls!

On Disruption

"Alice! I know you are upset with the state of the house at this precise moment in time, but that is no excuse to be playing with one's poop."

Congratulations to the New Mr & Mrs Brower

Yesterday afternoon, Allie and Joey got married!



They looked stunning, and utterly adoring, and made me cry. The way Joey looks at Allie is like she's his entire world, no hiding it, and he doesn't care who's watching. You got a good man there, Allie! And he's lucky to have someone as light, bright and wonderful as you.

May the years ahead afford you all the love and laughter you deserve, guys. Enjoy Hawaii! Congrats!

Artsy Schmartsy

So I recently downloaded Picasa, to manage our multitude of pictures, and I've fallen in love. Very soon, there may be tiny little Gazel-asa babies running around. The pitter patter of tiny pixels is in our future.

I've been playing around with it and just wanted to share my first undertaking. This is my Mother-in-Law sitting on the beach in Buxton, North Carolina.

Original:


Post-Creative-Gazelle:



For some reason, I'm just feeling really artsy lately, so get used to me posting stuff like this. Or, y'know, not. We all know I get distracted really eas...oooh, shiny.

Black As Night

This morning it was pitch black when I got up.

I'm wearing 2 different socks. I might be able to understand my mistake if they hadn't been bundled in the sock drawer wrong. Hrm. Did I fold them when it was dark too?

I wanted to crawl into the sock drawer and sleep.

A Done Deal

Last night I signed the contracts for the house renovations. Many, multiple, many mucho thousands of dollahs in a tiny check I signed with a hand shakier than when I signed the mortgage contract. This exact signature was why I started my second job at CoffeeLand in the first place. This loop o' the pen is why I can't sleep at night.

It's done now. I hope I've done the right thing, and I won't regret it down the road. As of next Thursday, let the demo begin!

*gnaws at fingers*

Math. Obviously.

So I'm a somewhat superstitious individual, which is why I didn't mention here that I had an interview on Friday. It's for a nice small little company that my professor works for. She recommended me for a nice little web development position, so I went in to meet the boss. The interview went really well, and they are 'cautiously optimistic'. Basically the deal is that, if I can write the three programs he gave me as homework, he'll hire me on an internship, so we can see how it works out, and then once I graduate, if it's all going well, we'll start doing the paperwork that will switch me from an F1 visa to an H-1B.

When I came home from the interview on Friday, I started freaking out, as I am wont to do. I lost all faith in myself that I could write the programs, and essentially built up a huge barrier for myself. My philosophy appeared to be:

I can't do it, so I'm going to give up.
I look better on paper than I really am in person.
I can't apply the knowledge I have to the real world.

Huge wall. So I ignored the programs all weekend, and yesterday, while Barbara was at work, I ran out of excuses and had to dedicate some time to it. I started on the first program, wrote up the basics in Java, and then got completely rear-ended by the math. I gave up. When Barbara got home, we chatted, ate dinner, and played some Castle Crashers. Finally, as we lay in bed about to go to sleep, I opened up to her and explained my fears. A couple of tears later, and I felt composed enough to actually describe the problem to her.

My sweetie is brilliant, but math is not her strong suit, as science is not mine. We have our fortes, and our areas in which we are lacking, and together we work well. Essentially what I was trying to explain to her was the equivalent of her trying to explain the EndoMuscle System to me, which for those of you just joining us is practically quantum physics. Anyway, as I'm oh-so-calmly explaining the problem, using my examples, Barbara pipes up:

"So for 4 weeks, and a goal of 16, that's 4 a week."

Nice, simple math, right? 4 x 4 = 16. Obviously. Yet, I'd been focusing on small, 0.something numbers so much that I'd fried my brain. This was exactly what I needed. The light in my brain switched on, and I ran to the computer. Huzzah!

So, the program is not complete, but it's a darn sight closer than it was this time yesterday, all because of my girl. So I wanted to say thanks to her, in a nice public forum, for calming me down, and helping me get to the bottom of E= MC².

Old Lady Hands

It's bizarre and I think it's gross. I think it might be from working 10 years as a deep tissue massage therapist, add to that my prior years working as a sous chef in kitchens and burning my hands all night, add to that the millions of small house jobs where I titter around with my hands and usually end up almost losing a digit or two and it makes them look kinda, well, old.

I am not saying I have the permanently clawed hands, or that I have a million liver spots. no! Not by a long shot. But ever since I began at CoffeeLand; digging into soaking coffee grinds, taking insanely hot steel things from the sanitizer that singe my hands and leave searing red marks, hands constantly being in water; I drag myself home at night and my hands feel weird. I look at my fingertips and it's like they aren't really there. So, I tested myself at work today by rolling my own finger prints on the digital screen. It was worse than I thought. I have okay prints on my #1 and #6 fingers. Even #2 and #7 are passable. The rest, however, are nothing but undetectable markings. These are the same prints I lament when I'm printing a 70+ year old woman with a lifetime of scrubbing bare-handed with bleach and smoking filterless Pall Malls. My prints have worn down so far that when I tried to take them again, this time in a special ink, using a ridge raising compound, the results were the same unreadable blobby smear.

Why, oh why didn't I just marry into money and be done with it? Then I'd have pretty hands that would be manicured and perfect.

On My 1st Meeting Of The "Big Boss"

I met the district/regional/whatever is higher than my general manager person the other day at CoffeeLand. By "met" I mean I was walking to the front area to restock, and as I reached where she was standing with my boss, things went 80's slow-motion. I heard him say, "Barbara, this is Blahphembugle, my boss." and for some reason, something happened to my usually oh-so-graceful poise and I stuck out my hand to shake hers, not realizing I was still holding a half open container of whole milk. Slo-mo continued as I watched the container hit the floor with a vigor reserved for truly embarrassing times like these, and milk splattered toward her and spread across the tiled floor like a film noir crime scene.

All I could manage to "udder" at the woman was a very questioning "Moo?"

Haminals

I'm slowly sorting through pictures from our vacation, but came across these two that I'd like to share.

A Crabby Turtle



A Turtley Crab

It's Terminal, Baby...

I've had symptoms for over a year. The slight sniffle back when WNPR started running primary coverage. Then I got chills once the final candidates were "official" on both sides. I got aches and pains when Hillary was completely out. I developed a cough when Biden was announced, and I've been running a fever since the announcement of Palin on the Republican ticket. Now that both sides are running full-on into the November election time, I've fallen into a massive migraine - sure to be followed by gastric-intestinal distress. Apparently, when I have to eat all the shit I'm fed, I tend to get sick. I have a feeling no matter what happens in November, it's going to be fatal.

Or else it's the 80 hour work weeks.

Ungh Mruf Nuh, Hnrugh?

During the course of our wonderful vacation, I broke a tooth. If memory serves correct, I broke it on a burger. Or an egg. Or a donut. I forget which, but suffice to say, it was something soft (and yes, completely off the diet. Screw Ike: South Beach has hit our house again with a vengeance). So for the last four days, the jagged remains of one of my teeth has been ravishing my tongue. And not in that good way.

Today, I got in to see my wonderful dentists, at the 'oh-so-ironic' time of 2:30. Har-di-har. Now I hate dentists. Nothing against them personally, per se, but I have a completely rational fear of them, and the sharp, pointy things they like to torture me with. These guys are just amazing. Incredible. They almost make it a joy to go in for an appointment.

OK, so the Novocaine is still in my system, apparently. I'm delirious.

Almost immediately after I walk in the door, Nicole The Assistant comes out and ushers me into the chair. Dr K gives me 3 shots in the jaw, making me whimper each time. Yes, I'm a wimpy whimperer. Shut up. Nicole's adjusting the chair up a bit, down a bit, down a bit more, flying high...then she giggles. She says that they're supposed to talk to the patients when they move the chair, let us know what they're doing, but that she was having so much fun with me, she just wanted to see how much she could mess with me before I said anything.

Then she's cleaning up the instruments and breaks one, clear in half. The look on her face was priceless, as she realized I was watching. "You didn't see anything. Nothing happened," she giggled.

Mid-way through the best filling I've ever gotten (and believe me, I know fillings), Dr K grabs the needle again. Tools in my mouth, all I can do is whimper "Umf nungh muh!" to which Nicole replies "Don't worry, this isn't like the other needles; this one's to stop the blood."

Talk about a Gazelle in the headlights.

Then Rikki The Assistant wanders in and asks Nicole if she can bring her a coffee. "Medium, light and sweet" is her reply, to which I hold up two fingers, sending them all into fits. Despite all this, apparently they're onto my wily ways, and were talking about how calm I always am in the chair, despite the fact that I'm a quivering mess in the waiting room. Huh. Back again in two weeks, but I can't believe I've finally found a dentist that doesn't butcher me, and has a sense of humor. Hats off to you gals. There's coffee in your future, for sure.

Hatteras Lighthouse: A View from the Top

Last night, Barbara, Mom, and I had tickets to climb Hatteras Lighthouse, at night, under a full moon. It was truly a dream come true for Mom, and I managed to get some great pictures from the top. This one is probably my favorite:



Overall, it's good to be home, and with the Kitten, but I sure will miss doing sweet nothing but the ocean with my days.

For Everything Else, There's Mastercard

Body Board on sale: $3.58


Swimsuit: $24.99


Asthma Inhaler forever in the Atlantic: Priceless