Bless This Mess

One of the reasons we've been so absent of late is that we've been working diligently on perfecting our humble abode. It's a beautiful little place, and full of potential, which we're helping it to realize. Our latest project has been the main bedroom. When we first moved in, this is how it looked:



It's looked like this for the last two years (more recently minus the boxes), and we finally accepted that now was the time for a change. So, our Bodhi present to each other was a new bedroom set; and seeing as we were going to have new furniture, we decided to go the full hog and repaint the room itself too. My sweetie has always hated that sea-blue on the walls, and honestly, it could be a little nauseating. So we decided upon Turkish Coffee, and Limestone as our colors and got to work.

This is the semi-finished product:



And the difference between the colors can be seen in this picture:



There is also a bench to put together for the end of the bed, which will be our project for this snow-day, but overall, we think it's a very positive change. And it's been so nice to put pieces of ourselves into the fabric of the house. Of course, I can't step into Home Depot without having to squelch an overwhelming desire to purchase insulation. I'm not even sure what I'd use it for, but I want it.

Adipose I Should Do About This?

Oh, my self-deprecating humor knows no bounds! Adipose Who else could configure the anatomical wording for fat into a blog post title? Just ginormous me!

I am embarking on a serious and intensive weight loss/health gain program starting in a few weeks. I don't want to go into the details of it, or the name of it for now. I just want to get working on it and see how it all goes. I'll update you all on the progress if desired. I'm thinking of trying to be brazen enough to take some honest photos of myself as things progress. I'm a bit scared of that, so I'm still just pondering it.

So, if you don't hear from me in a few months, assume that I died and the kitten feasted on my corpulent, uh... corpse.

Overheard at "the Hotel"

"They took down another Christmas Nativity Scene in a public square near my town. It's been there for years and never bothered anyone till too many foreigners moved into the area. I didn't even mind so much when they added a menorah to the area - I let that go. Now the ACLU gets involved and I can't celebrate my baby jesus' birth because it's unconstitutional? They ain't even part of my constitution! Fuckin' ACLU is ruining this country. Bunch of Commies."

Sometimes I have to physically use my hand to pick my chin up off the floor when I hear some of the crap these guys spew.

Boughs of Folly

Hello Urchins.

Tis the season to try to be jolly, then get bitch slapped by circumstance, and still maintain that stupid grin so people don't commit you to a sanitarium.

Things have been hectic at the Greening-Cole Ranch, but I am pleased to report that we are still happy and goofy. Stress is taking an individual toll, but thankfully, we're great with communication, so it's not stressing on us as a couple. That makes me smile.

Rohatsu went off without as much observance as I would have liked. It was the 8th of December, but so much complicated work stuff, plus the very sad death of my wonderful uncle in Kentucky made for a hard time of observing. Perhaps I can make my own special day to observe in the proper way in the new year. That'll make me happy. I invite you all to join me!

The bedroom is almost 100% finished with the renovations, and I think all 3 of us are thrilled. Ok, I think Alice wins that contest. The headboard has built-in cubbies, and she has promptly made all of them into little napping dens of her own. the top ledge also allows her a place to curl up to nap, or keep a vigil on birds and squirrels out the bedroom windows. The colours are wonderful and calming. It's turning into the bedroom I've wanted for a long time now. All we need is to find the perfect wall art, and we're working on it.
Anywhoodle - I'm off.

I will send updates as I can, and try to delve into the real meat of what's going on, but I'm going to need a pitchfork to sort through the crap enough to write it.

Missed you all. Send us love, topics, or whatever!

B&L

Maintaining Ties

In a time of ancient gods...or perhaps just ancient customers, it is in my best interests to maintain links to the UK. The US doesn't fully want me yet, or at least they don't know they do. They panic when I get a little too close, and demand "space."

Not to fret; I can be...persuasive *pops on little black number and a tango mix-tape*.

So I maintain these ties, through keeping a house over there, bank accounts, and of course a driving license. Said driving license expires on the 24th of this month. I don't have to do anything special to renew it, just mail back a form and a pretty picture of yours truly. No retaking test, or fancy jumping through hoops or anything like that, right. Right?

Wrong.

Well, half wrong. I don't have to retake the test. Which is a good thing, because I'm certain I'd get all confuzzled and forget which side of the road to drive on. I had a panic tonight as I realized I'd forgotten the British way of writing the date. Bah.

As it turns out, the Brits and Americans are once more two countries divided by a common language when it comes to passport photos. British dimensions are not quite as simple as their old 2 by 2 American counterpart. Not one, not two, but four stores I went to on my lunch hour today refused to accommodate such an unruly request. Finally, I sweet-talked my way into a JC Penney clerk's knickers. I mean, photography studio. *cough* I think I have a date on Friday.

Knowing that I don't have much time in which to organize all this (as a typical Greening, I have known the license was expiring for months, but am as usual late to the party), I race home and start filling out the forms. Second panic of the day: The D1 or the D798? Which one am I supposed to complete? Bah! Typical British, you wait months for a form, and two come along at once. So I narrow it down to the D1 (mostly because I had previously started to complete the D798 in blue ink, and that simply won't do), and start scribbling furiously. Finished, I read the checklist of items.

Check for £20
Green counterpart license
Photocard licence

Panic number three. £20? What's that in dollars? Does it matter anyway? The DVLA won't take an American check. Crap. Do I still have a British checkbook? By this point, Alice has flown into the bedroom and is hiding under the bed from her crazy Mum who is ransacking the study. Victory! Oh me oh my, I still have the good old HSBC checkbook. Can I remember how to complete an English check? Sod it, I'll fudge it.

Green counterpart license. OK, I've seen that somewhere. Recently. Ish. Like, within the last...four years? Balls. *ransack ransack* Huzzah! There it is in the filing cabinet, neatly filed under "Stuff." How accurate and quaint.

Photocard license. I've got this, no problem. Wait. Oh, that's just bloody marvelous. I simply had to go and get myself a new wallet a couple of months ago. A slimmer model. One that doesn't contain all the unnecessary "STUFF" that I don't use on a daily basis. Like my UK photocard license. Now...if you were an insane, famished British gal, where would you have put your old wallet? In a flash of godknowswhat, I remember that I think I heard it fall down the back of the dresser about a month ago. Why yes, there it is!

OK, it's 6:30pm. Into the car I run, off to locate the only post office within a fifty mile radius to stay open past 5pm on a weekday. Small aside: What the hell, USPS? People don't work? C'mon already. I arrive at the wee place, and...c'mon, if you had to guess people. You've been following this story. You know how it ends.

Ha, they weren't closed. Those who guessed 'closed,' go directly to jail and do not collect £200. Or $200. Or anything. Sorry, not feeling particularly generous today. BUT, they did have a new system in place.

"Damned computers," the woman behind the register mutters. "Don't know why we need them in the first place. So much simpler without." Right, yes dear, you're 100% correct, now hand over the keyboard and mouse and nobody gets hurt. What? Not supposed to utter those words in a federal building? Whoops.

Together, we fuddle our way through the new system, trying to figure out how to express mail something internationally, when she reaches the Province question. "Which province is it, dear?"

Wales, I think. What? Wales isn't in there? OK...try South Glamorgan. Now look for Swansea. It's not there? Hmmmm...that's strange. OK, maybe it's Mid Glamorgan. Not there either? Hmmm... *pulls out Blackberry and starts typing furiously* West Glamorgan. Well now, that doesn't seem familiar at all, but whatever, it works. Did I mention I lived in Swansea for 2 years? Finally, my package is in the mail, my wallet is $27.95 lighter, and it will arrive on Wednesday. The day before the deadline.

And now, I'm off to stare at the ceiling for many hours. Because my life cannot handle this much excitement. DO YOU HEAR ME UNIVERSE? STOP IT!

Not Endorsed by Anyone

Am I the only person who hates the use of the word 'Indorsement?' I was only just informed of its legitimate status as a word today. Upon Googling it, I expected to see a myriad of sites dedicated to just how stupid this word is, but apparently I am alone in my diagnosis. As I type this, it is harshly underlined in red. Google agrees with me. So long as the conglomerate that will someday run the entire world agrees with me, I'm happy. But seriously, we should ban it.

Heck, we as a human race is banning stupider words...

Potential Return

Hi all,

I know, I know, I've been freakishly absent. The truth is, I have so many stories to tell, but I guess I slipped into a bit of a depression back there, because I didn't think they were worth you listening to. Anyway, I'm working on getting out of the funk, and the first step of that was to actually sign into the blog for the first time in over a month.

So I return. And in this order, I will bestow upon you the stories of:

• The Korean seafood/beef platter


• The incessant Sarah Palin dreams


• The highs of actually having insurance now...


• ...and the lows of seeing my old doctor


• Our foray (Oh sweet Jesus, I just wrote fourway.) into the Blackberry lifestyle.

There might even be a story in there about Easy Bake Ovens. If you ask nice.

You stopped listening when I said fourway, didn't you? Gutterheads!

For now, I must bid you adieu, although I have not warranted this favor. Last night, I spent forty-five minutes on the deck finishing up Jeffrey Deaver's Roadside Crosses, and became mozzie-chum. Damn wee beasties. I'm all covered in lumps and bumps, and it's taking every last bit of will power (with which I am not particularly blessed) not to scratch off my own legs. Perhaps I will have Alice do it for me.

Today's WordOfTheDay: Scat: (noun)

1) dispersed feces or dung of wild carnivorous animals.

2) what was left in the ladies toilet stall that I walked into today.

I wanted to call the MonsterHunters on the discovery channel to investigate, but honestly, I'm pretty certain I could track the beast myself.

The toilets are the auto-flush kind, so it leads me to believe that what I saw was actually the remnants of what was there prior - and that thought haunts me.

What BUGS Me...

...are people who don't show up. DO NOT have your company ignore me for 5 days, then blow off the appointment you finally make when I took a half day of my own personal time off from work to sit here and wait for you.
Disrespectful little maggots who will feel my earthly wrath. You've remained nameless until now as I've given your company the chance at redemption. After today - the gloves are off.

When you run out of options, scream like a girl.

{Warning - a bit long...}
I'm laid back these days. So much so that people who knew me once upon a time really can't believe it's me. I attribute it to the meditation and my work on moving forward in my Buddhist practice and beliefs. This week, however, tested the gentle, calm waters that had been lapping at my feet and I must confess - I failed. At this point, I pretty much peed in the proverbial waters.

My central air conditioning has been in the process of being installed for quite some time now. There have been obstacles at every turn of this project, including random walls inside other walls that block the vents, odd sized openings for the returns, odd sized beams in the walls. The guy doing it is wonderful. Patient and so very 110% on the job. It's actually not his fault, but between the need to get custom made parts, plus waiting for other ordered pieces, waiting on the a/c people to show up to hook up the chemicals, dealing with the electrician to upgrade my electric and a hundred other things - it's drawn out over 6 weeks now. It's the middle of July and it's not in yet! As of today, the downstairs unit is working, however there are 2 vents not functioning at 100% and he's trying to figure out what convoluted reason there is for this. He's hoping to have the upstairs system finished and functioning by tomorrow morning, ending the a/c drama. Then we're extracting the wall a/c and patching the wall in the living room. I can't wait for that!

Second reason I am becoming more and more neurotic - Spiders. I will repeat the first section of this post - I am a gentle and calm person. I am a practicing Buddhist. I try to harm no living creature. I am not the biggest fan of spiders. I can handle them for the most part - scoop them unto some type of paper object and "assist" them in relocating to an area outside of my home. That makes it fine for me and everyone lives. It's a win-win. My problem started after my brother in law was bitten in his yard by a Brown Recluse Spider.


After seeing him go through the painful, nasty, leaky, flesh-destroying mess of a month in the hospital I have lost a lot of love for the species as a whole. Fear will do that. So, I enlisted the services of professional preventative pest control in an environmentally friendly way. I was pleased with myself and the steps I took to create a barrier for my home so I would not kill something in a reaction.

This seemed to fail, however, when the other night I saw about 2 dozen tiny little specks of spiders on my kitchen ceiling. Most were just milling about. Some were practicing the art of descending on their webs. They must have just been hatched or birthed or whatever the proper term would be. I caught 2 in a zip lock bag (that I'm venting daily to keep alive to show the pest guy to determine what they are before I let them go. The rest I swept off the ceiling and out the door. Within 20 minutes, there were a dozen more in the exact spot I had just cleared. I was beside myself. My sweetie cannot abide anything creepy or crawly, so I had to reassure her while trying hard not to panic myself while visions of the little bastards doing kamikaze missions into my ears and mouth while I'm sleeping crept into my head. I kept clearing them out. I fear some of them may have perished while I swept them out. They were tiny and difficult to track. The next day, several more were in the kitchen on in the same area of the ceiling. I tried to remove them in the same way. This has continued from Friday through the time of this posting. At first sight - I called my new pest friends. They were gone, but the corporate office assured me that they were processing my request for immediate service and gave me a reference number for when my branch called me the next morning to come out. I felt a little relief. The next morning, no call. Late morning - no call. I called them, no answer - not even a machine. It's a nationwide corporation. No machine? I called that night and Sunday, still battling the waves of little fuckers. I gave up on my branch and called corporate again. They gave me a new reference number and apologized and said the branch manager would contact me first thing this morning. At that count, I had banished over 40 of them. 40. Think about 40 tiny little spiders crawling in your home. How would you feel? I felt helpless. And they were RIGHT OVER MY SINK AND STOVE AND COUNTER!! Try thinking about making dinner now.

No call this morning. I called them. Rudeness and ignorance abounded. I countered with as much loving kindness as I could muster. I was informed the branch manager was not coming in today. I was also informed that they could try to fit me in on maybe Friday. Friday? That would make it an entire week from my first contact. Unacceptable behaviour! She said she'd call me back if they could fit me in and hung up. I immediately called corporate back. I told them I didn't want another reference number, as I already have two and they do no good. The woman I spoke to was patient and listened to what I had to say. I remained calm and explained the situation. She pulled up my account and saw my contacts and attempted contacts. She placed me on hold and made a conference call with me, my branch and herself. She introduced herself to them and said she'd wait on the line while they made an appropriate appointment to take care of my issue and resolved my problem. The branch person seemed really irritated, but the corporate person was polite and calm. She asked if there was anything else the branch could do for me and I paused and said calmly - "I need them to honor that contract and take me seriously. I paid very good money to NOT have to deal with this. It happened, that was okay, but then they needed to deal with it immediately and they didn't. Because of this, I had to KILL LIVING THINGS and that really upsets me!"

By now my voice had raised several octaves and I was on the brink of a shrill scream. "I do not kill things!! Do you understand!!?? I cannot take the life of something just because I am insanely and irrationally afraid of being bitten by a spider that will then spiral me into the same decomposing flesh nightmare my brother in law dealt with!!! Am I being unreasonable??!! AM I!!??" *heaving and gasping breaths to catch up to the fervor I was in*

Silence on the branch end, and I could hear the almost satisfied amusement and smugness in the corporate woman's voice as she said "I certainly hope that all of our employees share our commitment to satisfying your needs, and will take your concerns to heart. Can I count on this Miss. Whatshername?" I think she enjoyed making the branch woman squirm for not taking care of things the way she should have.

They are coming tomorrow around noon. I'll have to take time off from work, but at this point, it's worth it. I have things contained to the kitchen, but it needs to stay that way.

Yay for Corporate behaving in a way that made me feel valued. Boo to the local branch that is supposed to service me. I'm grumpy with them. Let's see what's in store for me when I get home!

Out of Sight, Out of Mind?

Hardly!

I bring this message to you from a somewhat quieter than usual house of debauchery, as my beloved has gone away for a few days. This is the first time in three years that we'll have been sleeping apart, and it's a little strange. She is exploring the great white North. No, not that far. South a bit. A little further. Ok, now North a bit. East. East. You got it, right there.

On Friday night, we will be meeting up in the delightful little town of Mystic, CT. Our lives have honestly been a little too hectic to warrant much time for relaxation, so we're going to make the most of this nice little weekend away.

I don't have news for you, pets, that you don't already know. I got my visa - although I am still trying to summon up the courage to read through all the paperwork - so that's calming. We have a brand new car, Charlie the Mini Cooper Clubman. The kitten is her usual adorable, obnoxious self, and is feeling remarkably better than she's ever been. We are currently having Central Air installed in the house, finally, two years after we moved in, and that will be positively blissful.

I would actually like to take this opportunity to direct you towards a site that has me rolling on a regular basis. Momversation is an extremely amusing site running videos of 10 regular panelists, and a few guests thrown in once in a while. Each video has a designated topic, and the Mommies talk about their views on the subject. They just have such a way with words, and some of the expressions are priceless. It's not nice to have favorites, but I'm particularly partial to Heather, Alice, Mindy and Maggie.

Take a gander: you'll be glad you did. And remember, nuns are watching you.

One Step Closer

This afternoon, at approximately 1pm, I received word from my attorneys that my petition for H-1B status as a non-immigrant worker had been accepted. This is quite the weight off, my friends! As of October this year, my visa will kick in, lasting until September 2012. Hopefully at some point during the next three years, I can pull it all together enough to get my green card and finally, finally make an honest woman out of this here Yank I'm chained to!

OK, so it's an emotional time, and it's brought out the stoic Brit in me. So sue me! I'm so thrilled. So much money, and I'm just so glad it wasn't all for nothing. What a great way to celebrate our fourth anniversary together!

Hardcore Long time, eh?

And is she coming back with a bang? A flourish?

Nay. She's coming back with a video. A video that has nothing to do with us, but that I saw over at Mindy's site, and thought was really rather amusing. That's Brit for hilarious.

What it feels like to be told about a new sibling:




We'll be back soon, I promise. *smooches*

Just be thankful it's not a scratch and sniff post

It seems that I am a creature of sheer luck, and every time I utilize the facilities where I work, it is inevitable that a certain woman from another department will follow me in there. It can't be planned, I'm certain - but it boils down to this:

It's foul.

From the sounds, the odd intermittent noises, the grunts and sighs and noises that couldn't possibly emanate from a mouth - my conclusion was - that can't be human.

I've got a strong stomach, and I'm very good at holding the hair of a loved one whilst they vomit or partake of something similar. This, however, I cannot endure. I find myself gagging at the sounds - my mouth watering that ungodly amount that indicates "Look out, Bitches - you're gonna hurl!" If I can get past it - the battle's only half over.

I can't leave my stall - I'm trapped in my stall of hell. She saw me enter, and I am frozen in fear and horror - doomed to cower in there silently until the ordeal has finished.

Phase II begins immediately after, with the foulest odors one could imagine. I would prefer to stick my nose deep within the rotting intestinal cavity of a 3 week old corpse that had been in the trunk of a parked car sitting in the sun who's last meal consisted solely of vast amounts of cabbage.

I want to scream "Courtesy Flush Please!!!" but it's no secret who I am, and I'd only drool out the saliva in my mouth that is pooling there while trying not to vomit.

At this point I'm breathing through my mouth and trying not to drown from my watering mouth. Breathing through my nose is NOT an option. Fleeting images of random things pop into my head that further disgust me - 2 girls/1 cup; possible escape routes blocked by mounds of feces; hot dogs; opening the stall door and finding a sloth-like dragon in the stall who belches a little smoke and asks me to excuse her because she ate too many villagers and it upset her tummy.

Unfortunately, there is no polite dragon. Only the beast within the other stall. I finally hear a gurgling flush as the toilet struggles to take in the damage. The grunting continues as I imagine the poor soul/evil creature who did this is adjusting themselves in the stall. I hear flush number two, as the toilet sucks down much more fluidly than the first time. I can picture the possible marks left on the porcelain and I shudder.

Seconds drag and I finally hear the latch to the stall slide open and she strolls to the sinks while the toilet flushes for the third time. the main door opens and closes and there is silence. I grab my opportunity, and run from the stall and bathroom , down an opposite corridor, gulping fresh air as I run. I wait down the hall until I feel it's safe, and make my way back to my department, holding my breath as I hurried past the bathroom.

Why my timing is such that I endure this ritual at least 3 times in any given week, I'll never know.

Pull the Cord on 3...

You know the decision to diet was wise when while throwing your undies across the room, they turn into a parachute... I'm less than amused.

It's Not What it Sounds Like

All week, we've been planning a BBQ at work, and today the plans came to fruition. The weather cooperated, the chef was great, and lots of fun was had by all, considering we squeezed it into our lunch hour.

Everything's going swimmingly. Everyone's laughing and joking around, nomming our way happily through lots of food. One of the chaps is trying to come up with an excuse to spend the rest of the day outside. He says he wants to mandate that everyone bring out their computer towers and blow the dust out of them with some fresh air, because, well, it IS memorial day weekend.

And genius here, without thinking AT ALL, says: "Yes, we have to remember those towers that have previously fallen."

Silence.

I'm looking around like, what? I know it wasn't THAT funny, but a smirk or something? Anyone?

DR finally says: "Ouch?"

And I realize that I have inadvertently made them all think that the new-girl-foreigner-on-the-block just made a 9/11 joke. Brilliant.

Forget Swine Flu... It's Sudden Lesbian Syndrome!!

I thought the headline was another FARK joke, but no, I read on further to see that Oprah and CNN really issued reports and dedicated blog postings to this new affliction. My question is, where were these women 10 years ago, and why didn't I go to school to be a nurse in some specialty clinic for this!

In the interest of fair blogging, I offer you the links for CNN.com and Oprah.com articles, as well as the best photo of Her Majesty "O" I have ever seen.
Enjoy kids.




http://www.cnn.com/2009/LIVING/personal/04/23/o.women.leave.menfor.women/


http://newsbusters.org/blogs/warner-todd-huston/2009/05/04/cnn-oprah-com-calls-sudden-lesbian-syndrome-new-trend-without-an

Alphabits Vomit

Remember that Alphabits cereal? Well, right now my brain feels a bit like a Alice in Wonderland sized bowel of it drowning in swirly milk, and I only have a piece of string to try to eat it with. So, in a jumbled fashion I am going to spew forth some of what is on my mind, and hope it does me some kind of good and keeps me out of an asylum. Please remember it's a stream of consciousness kind of thing, so if it makes no sense to you, you might be better off - and I am not responsible for any streams that it might trigger in you.

Hermaphrodite insensitive wankers users making days long and difficult choking feeling breathing meditating peace and calm washing over then turning to black big cysts or lumps or what they find and won't confirm or deny making it harder and harder to figure out how I feel and not concentrate on death and sickness Jesus shaped ducks and Jehovah's witnesses at my door early on a Saturday morning to have a 'discussion' unable to move in my own space unable to function normally walking on eggshells tired of the repetitive drama that is stale and old how many colors they now make for cars and how few of those are available on the specific model I choose value versus affording versus debt versus me and what's MY value? Debt vs. Me while others disavow responsibility and I shoulder even more as the weight crushes and I yell for the penguin to stop it from happening - Burma! but it's already exploded
wheezing when I'm face first to the wind and drowning in the daily routine of life knowing what needs to be done and lacking the ability to lift my arm

making excuses for the leeches around me and failing to get past my guilt of not being everything to everyone

loving the walk of the Buddhist path and yet lamenting (which I wouldn't if I was a better Buddhist) that I am not walking it well enough...
caffeine caramel and calories ball gazer dean Sparkling Silver is the name of the color of our car with black jacks.
frustration pouring out of my ears and they are on fire. my ears radiate heat and my throat runs dry with desperation, wanting to have the slightest bit of control over my life and knowing it's desperately out of my hands. Stop poking me in the stomach I don't like it!! don't pick the most inappropriate times to talk to me and don't assume I will always be here to wipe your ass
inconsiderate assmunchers destined to never overcome their own inability to grow the fuck up
i miss incense and candles Me time drained tired and unable to meet all the demands on me, but am I at fault for allowing these demands to be placed on me babies pink and brown and yoinks that deflate me travel getting into the new motor and just going. Driving north until i feel happy again, until I can breathe. bottom of the ninth, why are the red sox losing and why do I even feel responsible for that?? wish I could have seen the Dalai Lama today in Mass and even as i try ridding myself of desire, i want.


If you came this far, you deserve a treat. I don't even care that it's misspelled. He's so freaking adorable.

2 Girls, 1 CuppaHolyCrapWTFBBQ?

Ok, I guess I am slow on the uptake, and I really had no interest in seeing the internet phenom commonly referred to as "2G1C", however tonight L and I saw a link about fake "reactions" to the video by Kermit the Frog and Mario & Luigi. After watching the reactions, it seemed a harmless enough thing to just casually see what the fuss is about. For the record, we were on Wikipedia, looking up the proper term for fecal fetishism, which for you bibliophiles is "coprophagia" and is a killer for a scrabble game.

If you know me, then you know I am not a prude, I'm not shy, and not much shocks me. Lisa, for the most part, is a Brit version on me, so not too much shocking there. Tonight, after the approx. 2 minute clip had gone start to finish with us sitting, mouths agape and expressionless had a very short heart to heart. Here's how it went...

(outro of video clip ends...)

Me: Hon?

L: (After a few moments pause of someone suffering a trauma) Um... Yeah?

Me: Whatever happens, just... well... please don't ever ask me to do that.

L: Um... Seriously. (gags a bit) I need to leave the room. (Gags again and walks out as I turn to the screen to write this)

(End)

Still curious? Ok, but be warned - it's not from us, and it's not OF us. Good luck ever eating chocolate ice cream again. I'm scarred for life - and they weren't even pretty.
At Your Own Risk:

http://www.flurl.com/video/5496822_comments.htm

Conversation at "the Hotel"

"Bellhop #1" : Dude, parents are cruel. I feel bad for this dude.
"Concierge" : I've heard worse last names than "Hymen". It's not that bad.
"Bellhop #1" : True, I mean, I guess.

Pause

"Bellhop #2" (aka Me) : Yeah, like his first name could have been "Buster."


So, it only took a tiny "Buster Hymen" joke to make me giggle this morning.

Karmic Chameleon

This weekend brought about a lot of conversations that revolved around or involved in some way Karma. I believe in karma. I have believed in it in various ways over the years, and as I have grown up and taken the path more seriously, my understanding of it has changed greatly.

What I noticed right lately is that many people I know regard karma as a weapon or a revenge/payback method - kind of a pay-to-play for some. I see people who get hurt by others waiting around to see that person get hurt by another in return, and gleefully remark that it was the work of Karma. There are so many things about this trend that I see, and in some cases, the waiting for 'karmic retribution' overtakes that person's life, and they become miserable and preoccupied with the past, unable to live in the present while so consumed by all of the feelings and waiting.

I am no saint, and I know I was not a very nice person in my past. I am certain that there might still be a few people who are waiting to see a similar karmic kickback give a solid, stinging comic book-esque THWACK!! to my ass. While I can understand this feeling, and admit to having it myself before, I am really wanting these people to let go.

Easy for me to say, if I was the one who hurt them or wronged them; but I am saying it with the most open heart, and the most honest intentions. If I have learned lessons to share while on my own journey, surely this is a big one. Karma is the idea that your actions (and thoughts) will have an impact on your life, either now or in a future life. Reincarnation is one of the things often linked to the idea of karma. You might wait a lifetime to see something negative happen to someone, only to see them die before it does, or for you yourself to die without seeing anything. What has this gained for you? Nothing. You spent your life waiting for retribution, missing all of the wondrous and beautiful things that could happen to you in the meantime. You would miss living in the present. You could miss the chance to live freely, mindfully and happily. Just because you don't actively seek a physical revenge from someone does not mean that the revenge will not consume you. I have had to do this a lot in recent years. Consciously put aside the angers or the hurt that someone might have caused me. I had to fully let them go and not relate with past occurrences to interfere with my present life. Karma is not to be controlled by us, and we can only strive to be as aware of our actions as we can be, living mindfully, harming no one, and loving everyone. Forgiveness must be complete and total, or else you open yourself up to dwelling on things- and that will only cause more obstacles than you can overcome, and block you from reaching a true enlightened state.

Since my wish is for all the people on the earth to live harmoniously, peacefully, and lovingly I hope that all people; especially those who might feel that at some point in life I have brought them harm, hurt, or chaos; to move on from that place, and release themselves. You are the only person who can bring peace to your life. I'm not saying that the other people in your life are unimportant, or that loving them is unimportant. I am saying that your focus must be on yourself - and mindful living - to bring peace to yourself and those around you.

The Answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything

I don't want to say too much, because I'm a firm believer that if you gloat, brag, or think too positively, that the universe will hear and come after you. It thinks you are a cookie. A small, nommable cookie.

That said, while I was checking the USCIS website yesterday, I came across their H-1B update. They received only 42,000 visa applications which count towards the 65,000 cap. This means that, at the very least, somebody will be reviewing my application. Mine is one of the 42,000. This means that one of the hurdles I wrote about previously has now been jumped successfully. It's still going to take them about another 6 weeks to give me an answer, but I will be considered. This is a feat unto itself, and a small relief.

But not too much of a relief, because that universe is particularly peckish right now...

Hook Size Doesn't Matter When You Use Dynamite

***Because life is the away it is, I will, as always, speak obtusely and of course fictionally about the 'hotel' I work in. Wouldn't want to Dooce myself, so this is all a made up story. Yeah. ****

It feels like walking through a mine field at work lately. I have delusions that I'm in a war, and other solders are being blown to bits all around me, while I know I can just as easily step on the next mine. It reminds me of kids throwing dynamite into a river to see the unlucky fish float to the top.

Two part timers were laid off this week. No one or two weeks notice - just "buh-bye". It's disconcerting, and it's just really frustrating when you look at the bigger picture. He/She was brought into a room with several 'managers' to be let go. These managers make insane money. In-sane. I often wonder how some people can feel comfortable justifying earning the amounts they do when you equate it to the work they do. Seriously not an even trade. It's be like handing the guy who squeegees your car window on a NYC street about $10K each time, and I think they do more work. When you combine their salaries (and the fact that they did not get benefits) these two part time people made less than a quarter of just one of these managers' salaries, yet the lay offs were based on the economic stress and budgeting cuts in various departments of the hotel. What kind of hotel can function when the manager and the owner make all the money, and they refuse to hire/pay/keep any employees to run the hotel? I just don't know how some people sleep comfortably knowing the disparity. I'm not one to whine about injustice or things not being "fair", but watching someone lose their home while others are wondering if they can work a little overtime to get a newer Lexus, because the 2008 just wasn't new enough.

It is now impossible for any 2 people to be off on the same day, and have our department area of the hotel function. They also slashed budgeted monies so that it's not possible to pay for all regular hotel employees to be present at all required functions. It's as though there's a wedding in our hotel this weekend, but we can't pay the chefs, cooks, servers or bartenders to serve the guests. We still expect you to show up though!

Honestly - I'm all for tightening the belt, slimming the budget, and working together to keep costs down, but part of the idea of cutting budgets and such was to ensure we'd not lose employees - at least save the jobs even if we have to function a little less comfortably during this time.

What I am seeing instead are giddy and self-concerned uppers wielding a butcher's knife and hacking away at the little sinewy strands of tissue and skin that were meekly holding together the skeleton of the emaciated anorexic of a company.

/rant

People Scare Me

Ok, I was going to leave my last post as it, but I overheard something I need to share with you.

Woman 1: Did you know that this Sunday is English Mother's Day?
Woman 2: Why no, I didn't. How strange that it's on a different day.
Woman 1: Yeah, apparently they didn't want to celebrate St. Patrick's Day, so they just made up another holiday.

Wait. What?

April Fool...

I'm relatively sure that my beloved has a post up her sleeves about our recent house appraisal, but instead of waiting for her to get a spare 5 seconds, I thought I'd just pop my head in.

This evening we are off to Pennsylvania to see our favorite group, Girlyman. If you haven't heard their music, or even heard of them, please go forth and check them out. You won't regret it. I have a bit of a crush on Ty. Heh.

In lieu of anything I have to say that might be interesting, I shall leave you with a small tale.

Yesterday, a co-worker of Barbara's at the infamous CoffeeLand decided it would make for a good April Fool if she came on to me. S is 21, cute as a button, and generally quite adorable, but I wanted to play. So, the conversation went something like this:

S: So...I have something to say, and it's really awkward for me to say it, and it'll be really awkward for you to hear it...but...I fancy you. (yes, she really used those words!)
Me: Ok. That's not too awkward. I'm flattered.
S: I was wondering if maybe you'd like to go out sometime? But I guess not.
Me: Oh, no! I'd love to.
S: Well, I know that you're with Barbara, so I'm sorry if I've overstepped any lines.
Me: Not at all. I'm not exactly monogamous. She doesn't know, but I like to have my fun on the side, otherwise life's too dull. You're not working Friday night, right? Barbara's working late. We could definitely hook up then.
S: Great. We'll go out for coffee or something.
Me (leering): Coffee's not exactly what I had in mind...

S: < panicked look > Erm... < nervous giggle > Ha! April Fool!
Me: Yeah, you too baby!

And for the first time in my life, I was really struck by a thought: Wow, I have NO desire to cheat on my girlfriend. That might read a little strange, I mean we've been together 4 years, but yeah...I'm still completely smitten, and have no desire to sabotage our life. It's a strange feeling. But I think I kinda like it.

Fingers Crossed

So today is the day I officially submitted my request to the US government that I might please, if they wouldn't mind awfully, be allowed to stay here and work for another 3 years. It looks like I won't find out whether or not my petition for H-1B status has been accepted for another 2 months, but I'd still like to ask you all to keep your fingers crossed for me. Otherwise, I might have to get married, and I'd really rather not.

I am slightly hooked on EagleCam. The Eaglets (tell me, is there a cuter word?) are expected in three days and I'm just glued to the screen watching Mommy and Daddy 'nesting', and collect fishies for them. It's truly adorable. I strongly recommend checking it out!

A Twist on Overheard

Usually we bring you snippets of randomness that we have overheard, like the guy in the street telling his girlfriend he wasn't really bothered about trying to save their relationship, or the girl who was so pretty she was Abercrombie pretty.

This morning, however, I offer you a slight twist on this theme, and instead introduce you to a conversation that I sadly did not overhear, but in which I was instead a part.

The Scenario: A coworker and I are leaving work at the same time. I'm still relatively new, and at times things can be awkward because we're still feeling each other out. At a stretch for something to say, my coworker turns to me and says:

Coworker: So, British accent huh?
Me: Mmmhmm.
Coworker: So where you from? Britain or Australia?

Beauty Inside and Out

Many of you know I'm questing; or walking the path, if you'd rather that expression. Whatever you choose to cal it, I'm a practicing Buddhist and a very happy one. In the past, when I've tried to get more serious about my practice, things have always gotten in the way - specifically myself. Now, I feel as though I am ready to understand and process the teachings and live the way I really want to.

As a part of this and with Lisa's support, I've begun to draw and paint again. It's early, so I am a bit hard on myself, but it centers me and it's a form of meditation I am using and I couldn't be happier about it. I feel like I glow from within when I'm doing it.

Also, I've been adding to my tattoo collection. Some people have asked me if this doesn't contradict the idea that Buddhists should not be attached to worldly things. I pondered long and hard about this, read up as much as I could and I found that attachment for Buddhists isn't what a lot of people would believe. I got certain Buddhist symbols, and positioned them in places on my body they way I wanted them, and when I see them, I smile and I'm reminded to breathe mindfully, and to take that moment and act with compassion rather than another emotion that might be negative and I am trying to break. I do not sit around and pet the tattoos as though they are an object I possess and crave and attach myself to in that respect. I like the idea that this 'permanent' (huge laugh since nothing is permanent) symbol on my body will assist me in the earlier stages of my path to have the right intentions, actions, and continual mindfulness.

With this, I leave you with the images of the most recent additions as of this weekend, and I am happy to be working on creating the next set. Namaste everyone!

Avoidance is Key

Because we are still up to our ears in immigration and house-refinancing paperwork, I am merely going to share with you something in the spirit of misheard lyrics. It's something I've been pondering for a while now, because frankly, my ears aren't as young as they used to be (must be all the paperwork), and it's not uncommon to hear "That's what they were singing? No way!" in our house.

So today, I bring you Science Fiction: Double Feature , as heard by me for, well, ever.

Real Lyrics:
"And I really got hot
When I saw Janette Scott
Fight a Triffid that spits poison and kills"

My version of the Lyrics:
"And I really got hot
When I saw Janette Scott
Fighting to the death in fourteen inch heels"

In Which I Ramble and Discuss Immigration

Well now.

My sweetie has thrown down the gauntlet, and started up with the blog again, and if I am to feel equal then I must do the same. Actually, I’ve been missing it greatly, but I simply haven’t had the time to update between work, and hitting my pillow face first.

So…I am here. I am 2 and a half weeks into my new job and I am loving it. I get to play with code. All day. It’s great.

The one part of my job that has been weighing on me has been this horrific necessity to get myself properly legal. I have explained this time and time again to people who think that now I have a job here, I’m a citizen, but the truth of the matter is it’s just too confusing for words. Now, instead of having to explain, I can just point them here.

I am currently on an F1-OPT visa. This means that I am still, technically, under a student visa, but undergoing training with a firm in my field of study. That is, technically, what the job is.
This F1-OPT visa expires in a year. February 27th, 2010. If I’m not sorely mistaken, it is on that date that I will be given 60 days to leave the country.

Unless…unless!

There is this wonderful entity – a beautiful beastie – called an H-1B visa. This is, to the common man, a working visa. Guess what? I’m working! Wheee! I’m eligible to apply for this delight.

That said, here’s a few details about the H-1B, for those of you following along at home:

• There is a limited quota of these available each year.


• Because of this, they ‘sell out’ quickly.


• The start date for the H-1B visa is October.


• The first day on which immigration workers start considering applications is April 1st.


• For the last 3 years, the quotas has been filled on April 1st.


• It is now March 18th.

And strictly speaking, *I* am not eligible to apply. My company is eligible to apply, and BossMan made it clear from the offset that he did NOT want to be involved in any of these legalities. So…his signature is the only part in this plot that he will play. But the attorneys won’t accept money or documents from the worker themselves. Me. So. I gather all the information, fill in all the forms, write the checks, and get BossMan to sign. The majority of my paperwork is now in the mail, although there are still a few odds and ends that need tying.

If I am not accepted, it is not the end of the world. My F1-OPT is still current. I am still allowed to stay here, and work legally for another year. At which point, I may certainly apply for another H-1B, with next year’s applicants. If I am successful next year, I will be eligible to begin work next October, 2010. Until that time, I have to leave the country.

This visa can last up to 6 years, and counts as a ‘dual intent’ visa, meaning I am allowed to own property, and appliances, and of course the biggie, apply for permanent residency. That is my big hurdle; that is the accomplishment I desire.

I always knew they had another motive..

Muah ha ha ha ha ah ha!

Foooooo Goooooo

Lately I've had the feeling that I missed something. You know that nagging feeling that you've been climbing flights of stairs and you should have arrived at a particular landing by now, but all you see are more stairs above and below. I've been feeling this for so long that I've been checking each floor for an emergency exit.

In theory, things are tip top. L graduated from her School, known as the University of Ultimate Learning and Money Sucking. She started her job the very next week and is thrilled to bits with how challenging it is. She comes home daily all excited and wanting to share the jokes and experiences of the day. I feel sad that the geek humor is wasted on me a bit. Nothing kills a joke for me like a punchline of "blah blah blah... SQL!" Ha ha ha ha ha... I don't get it.

So I can't shake the feeling. I think it started years ago when we said "we just have to make it through {insert random major issue of life here} and then we'll be fine and life will be all flowers, puppies and rainbows!" Well, we've conquered all the random major issues as they came at us, and I'm here thinking "Now it's supposed to be calm, easier, better. Not living as though L could be expelled from the country any moment. Not having to work extra jobs to stay afloat. One step closer to a Green Card. Not being up all night worrying over all this stuff for L.

Granted, the economy is a wreck, and the people being given the means to assist in rectifying it are blowing goats and monkeys by giving millions in bonuses to top excecs instead of repairing damage and saving jobs and the entire economy. That is not pleasing me, but I don't think it's the root of my inability to pop out of the funk.

Any ideas? I'm willing to consider them.

You know I'll always come back...

Yes, we were quiet. Absent. You clicked our link to find only the same old posts sitting there, lonely and used. There was no sign of the She girls, only silence.
*crickets*

However, after a long and very busy month, many things have been completed and/or resolved that took precidence over the blogging. We hate to say it, but it is true. Sometimes you cannot be the center of our worlds, and you really need to learn to share. What were you, an only child?

So we're back. Gazelle is graduated, employed, and on the way to more solid citizenship. We are still able to maintain our home *crosses fingers in this economy* and generally really happy. I am looking at ending my part time job since Gazelle is employed now and I'm old, exhausted and generally lazy. lol Actually, I want to spend that time in my downstairs studio reacquainting myself with my art. I'll try to post some posted pieces if I don't suck too hard.

Look for more consistent posts, and a pat on your head for the undying loyalty you've shown. Thanks for hanging in with us. See you soon.

A Week for the Books

Today starts a very hectic, tumultuous time of my life. Daddy is arriving tonight. As we speak, he is somewhere over the Atlantic. Here, to be exact:



On Thursday, I am finally graduating. Ten years after beginning my higher education. I'm trying to stay calm, and focus on the fact that it's less than 48 hours away. The truth is, I have this irrational fear that I will never be graduating. It's ridiculous, I know. I'm just fearful that because it's taken me so long, maybe it's never meant to happen. So focus, Lisa: 48 hours.

Saturday is party time, celebratory drinks galore. This past weekend, we hung out in New Hope at the Triumph with some of Barbara's school friends: Nora, Christine, Amy, Kim and Mike. It was a complete riot and I fell so in love with raspberry wheat beer that I brought home 3 flagons of it. So that is definitely on the cards this week, for sure! Oddly enough, I'm looking forward to the party. I'm not much of a partier, but this should be relatively small with the best people money can't buy.

Then, of course, comes Monday. Ah, Monday. The day I officially start work. I'm excited and terrified all at once. I need to impress the BossMan enough to get him to sponsor me, and I'm afraid I can't do it. Because, y'know, what's life without a little pressure, right? I'm sure it'll all be fine, but if you don't hear from us in a while, that's because Barbara's busy slapping the nonsense out of my head. Salut!

Feeling Soppy

"Fidelity": Don't Divorce... from Courage Campaign on Vimeo.

Honestly, I don't know what good any of this is going to do. It's like watching a tennis match:

"Yay we have rights!" *serve*
"Boo, I'm offended" *volley*
"Huzzah, we have rights again!" *lob*
"I'm still offended..." *backhand*
"Don't Divorce Us..." *half-volley*

I'm hoping, hoping, and hoping some more that this new administration does what is needed for LGBT rights. I, for one, am not about to stop fighting any time soon. My sister will be a legal permanent resident of this country before I am because of all these games. I don't begrudge her in the slightest. She deserves to be happy. So do I. I just want what her fiancé wants: to marry my wife.

But Which KIND of Robin?

American or English?



Seriously, folks, I mentioned before that Robin gave us a boatload of material. Here's another two of her gems.

(While talking to a particular friend of ours, who happens to be decidedly Christian, Robin decides that dating advice is in order...)

Robin: At the end of the date, if all else fails, grab his junk.

M: Wuh?

(Later, as people are getting up to leave)

Robin: Enjoy your date, and don't do anything I wouldn't do!

M: Oh, I probably won't...

Sex On The Brain

Sunday morning, my beloved Father-in-Law stops in for coffee on his way back from church. He does this most Sundays, occasionally accompanied by his lady wife. He wanders about, shoots the shit, and finds something to pick on in our house.

"The dust bunnies under your TV are multiplying."

"Do you plan on ever using your dining room table for eating again?"

"How many SHOES do you need?!"

And of course, this Sunday morning's classic was:

"What on earth is that hanging on your bed? A camera? What are you guys DOING in here?!"

(It should be noted for the record that the camera he thought he espied was in fact the booklight my father bought me for Christmas, so that I may read into the night without disturbing my sweetie. Only my Father-in-Law could make that about sex)

Red-Breasted Robin

We've been decidedly MIA, for which I apologize, but there is good reason. My beloved is of course still working her two jobs, and I am now one month and one day away from finally graduating. Providing, of course, that I don't screw it up. There are no guarantees in baseball.

There's a lot to talk about, from the new job, to my sudden lack of medication, including, of course, our new President; however, as The United States of Tara is starting imminently, I can leave you with a small anecdote.

This afternoon, Barbara's boss from the real job (not CoffeeLand) took all of his employees, and their partners, out to a very swish (in the English sense of the word) luncheon. At this luncheon, we met the girlfriend of the youngest son of said boss. Does it say something about my character if the form of that sentence makes me think in German's dative case?

Anyway, we shall call the girlfriend Red-Breasted Robin, and she...was a trip. A complete and utter riot, to the point where I was emailing myself comments, lest I forget. 24, native to New Jersey, and I believe one of a kind. It is with a slight warning that I introduce you to a very scary mind.

Red-Breasted Robin: Oh my god, J's cousin's boyfriend, I think he's gay. He's like the best dancer ever, and he's not even Italian or Black.

Stay tuned for your next installment, coming soon.

Karmic Retribution

I'm very aware that those two terms should not really belong in the same sentence together, but I appear to be having one of those mornings. This morning, I hit snooze maybe 4 times (it gives you an extra 9 minutes each time) and then the plummet began.

I hadn't really given myself enough time to get ready this morning, so I just went into autopilot. I grabbed some cereal and left the house around 8am, needing to be at school 25 minutes later, at a location 35 minutes away. The car wouldn't start. Nothing major, he was just cold. So I eventually got him started, and then he needed time to warm up. So I ran inside and grabbed myself an apple for lunch. Then we were on our way.

10 minutes into my journey I am suddenly aware that I have left my wallet and cell phone at home. Foregoing the soda this morning because "I'll just stop for coffee" became one of the worst ideas I've had. It's too late to turn around, so I figure I'm just going to have to force myself through the day on my apple, and the soda I left in the work refrigerator yesterday.

I arrive at school, 8:25 on the dot, grab my bag from the passenger seat and watch helplessly as my apple flies out of my bag, under the SUV I parked next to. At this point all I can do is laugh. I come inside, run to the employee lounge to grab my soda, and it's gone. Some minx must've taken off with it. I can't blame them, really; it was a nummy vanilla type soda. But it was mine.

I have no food, no wallet, no phone, no money...and I'm thinking about just going home! No more snooze for me.