I've Sealed My Fate......

....I will never ever get a "smiley face" recognition at work. One little lapse into a moment of evil, and I have been reminded, again, why I am not a smiley face co-worker.

Someone I work with is on Prednisone for a rash. She is worried she is ballooning up (common effect of Prednisone). I was like "oh my God, what if you start to look like Jerry Lewis." I know this is Pure Evil....but just the thought of it made me laugh to the point of tears (making it even more evil). Then I, through my tears, had to find a picture on the internets to laugh at.

So....had I sealed my fate yet? Well, I wanted to make sure...so, then I was like,

"ya know....like punk'nhead."

So, now everyone is calling her Pumpkinhead (timely for Halloween at least).

And....we are having a Level Orange Hostility Alert whenever I walk past.

A Poem....by W

This is a poem made up entirely of actual quotations from George W. Bush, arranged, for "aesthetic" purposes, by Washington Post writer Richard Thompson. A wonderful poem like this is too good not to share. A testament to literacy in the age of Every Child Left Behind.





MAKE THE PIE HIGHER!



I think we all agree, the past is over.

This is still a dangerous world.

It's a world of madmen and uncertainty

And potential mental losses.



Rarely is the question asked

Is our children learning?

Will the highways of the Internet

Become more few?



How many hands have I shaked?

They misunderestimate me.

I am a pitbull on the pant leg of

opportunity.



I know that the human being

And the fish can coexist.

Families is where our nation finds hope,

Where our wings take dream.



Put food on your family!

Knock down the tollbooth!

Vulcanize society!

Make the pie higher!

Make the pie higher!



(Pass this on. Help cure Mad Cowboy disease)

Statute of Limitations

Ok, there should be some sort of statute of limitations placed on people being able to call up and say "hey, it's ME."

That just happened to me. And I'm like sitting there thinking "uh...noooo....I just spoke to my "me" about 15 minutes ago, and that AIN'T YOU."

So, I'm sitting there, knowing the voice, but thinking "me me me" and it hit me. Of course, it was a give away. The biggest Me-Me I know. The other giveaway was when the next line started with "I....." Me-Me.

So, I'm sitting there, drifting in and out...thinking "ok, I'm still on a high from my last call from my real "me".....and now this. Don't bring me down. Can you call me back when I'm paying bills, or trimming the dog's privates, or shoving bamboo shoots under my toenails....something, anything, where this will not bring me down."

This same person felt the need to send me emails for awhile. They were kinda like a newsletter "What's happening with ME..." drifting between fact and fiction and totally blurring the lines. I wanted to get off the mailing list. I thought about replying with just "unsubscribe" in the subject line.

Anyway....what's up with people thinking they can still call up and say "hey, it's me." Even my mother says, "this is your mother" to give me a hint (like the heavy German accent doesn't give it away anyway....at least she puts in the extra effort).

Oh well. Mission not accomplished. Still flying high from talking to my real "me." Although I still have no idea what the reason for the call from the "me" imposter was. (it's like really bad grammar to end a sentence in "was," isn't it?)

Embarrassed

Ok, I am having to collect boxes AGAIN at work to move AGAIN. And I have to admit I'm a little bit embarrassed. I'm trying to do it on the sly. These people are probably thinking "God, get an RV already"...since I seem to keep moving. About the time all my mail starts actually reaching me again...it's time to move.

If you knew me, and how much I value my "personal space" you'd know how traumatic this is. Not that I don't love sharing "personal space" with someone else (that special someone)....just not the population as a whole. And I don't like to live in transit or out of boxes. I like to surround myself with my belongings. (although not like my parents. I often tell them "ok, you know you don't have to put everything you own on display, right.")

Friends laughed that my last apt. looked like Harper's Bizarre. They kept looking for price tags on everything (I told them everything was "best offer"...no price tags, that would be too tacky). I just can't help it that I have such good taste...it's a blessing, and a curse.

Near as I can tell, no one else is moving up here. So I don't have competition for the boxes. That can get ugly real quick. Battle for the boxes.

I have a lesbian (ex) friend that always packs in garbage bags when she moves. Sad part is that it doesn't surprise anyone.

Flash back: One move I made was kinda expedited and I got desperate..... I ended up hanging over the dumpster behind the nearest liquor store digging boxes out.....not a high point in my life :) Why I didn't buy boxes at Uhaul or something is one of life's greatest mysteries.

Somethin' Ain't Right

Yesterday was bowling league. I had planned on winging it without a beer this week, but one of the guys on my team brought me a beer. Well, given my personal values, I can't let a beer go to waste. I mean, think about the drunks in lesser developed countries that would kill for that beer. Wasting it just isn't right.

I realized that whenever I get a strike or ...oh hell, I forget, whatever it's called when you knock'em all down on the second try....everyone cheers. Kinda like in the movie Rudy where everyone is chanting "Rudy Rudy Rudy." I guess they are just cheering on the underdog. I don't know whether to be happy about it....or insulted.

I'm like real stressed today and my stomach is in knots. Not real busy either. So, to get my mind off it, I decided to tour the building and take a mental inventory of who else does not have smiley faces on their nameplates. Ok, the list:

Unfriendly people at my company

1. Me
2.
3.
4.

Well,, come to find out that I am in good company. Sure, there are some freaks on the list, but not all. I feel better. My stomach's still knotted, but I'm coming to resolve that I may never have a smiley face.

weird

Something about the cool weather is making me blue. I think it's because I equate it with the holidays.....nothing like walking out of Dillards into the cool evening air, weighted down by bags full of stuff FOR ME to make me think of the holidays. (When I shop it's "one for me, one for you, two for me, one for you....")

Once I met this guy online...we met once, for coffee. The next day he called and left a message saying "I feel blue."

Oh NO. When I meet someone I don't want to know they feel blue for at least a couple of years. j/k ....but that was a little extreme, I thought. I don't deal with moody people well, and so have a fear of them, knowing that I somehow get changed myself in their presence. He ended up being a fruitloop anyway. Problem solved.
Anyway. As I try to figure out why I feel "blue" ....it's not even "blue" but just "weird"....as in more weird than usual....and was trying to put my finger on what it was about. I keep having flashblacks to shopping for Christmas decorations at Super Target last year. Last year I could buy whatever I wanted and put it wherever I wanted because it was mine mine mine. All about me. Actually it was more about endless possibilities, and I was in control. Never was I so excited about Christmas decorations....not since my first tree in my apartment after my divorce. The purple and pink one. Ok....the ornaments were purple, and the lights were SUPPOSED to be purple, but were SOOOO pink. What was supposed to be "Salute to TCU" become more blush and bashful. Somehow, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Anyway...it was mine, right or wrong......mine.

This year I don't have that feeling of endless possibilities, or control. There is SO much going on, and I feel like it is all controlling me, instead of me controlling it.

Shallow time...... I LOVE when I am at the gym and "Buttercup" comes on my flashplayer. My fave part of Something about Mary was the karaoke at the end ... set to "Buttercup." That song just makes me smile...regardless. I'm sure I am the only person in the world that has "Buttercup" on their flashplayer. Real men don't listen to "Buttercup."

I overheard someone's radio this a.m. with Kidd Kraddock. Talking about "Real Men." It was kinda irritating. Ok....my definition of a "real man" is someone who doesn't worry about eating quiche, or wearing pink, or jammin' to Buttercup on the elliptical....because they are secure in their identity, WHATEVER that might be.

:)

work stuff

Ok. The next job interview I go on, when they ask if I have any questions, I'm gonna say "Oh, yes!"

"Do you reuse rubberbands?"

I HATE reusing rubberbands. And, yet that is the only thing in our supply drawer. (everytime I hear the word supplies, I think about the joke about the little Japanese soldier jumping out and screaming "supppliiiieeesss."). They break. They hurt. Everytime I am fixing to use a rubberband, I can feel myself wince in anticipation.

And everyone around me laughs. They say everytime they hear a rubberband break, or see a broken one coming flying from my desk, they know they are about to hear "dadgummit" followed by other muffled comments meant for no one else's ears.

I'd do like I did with the highlighters....I went out and bought the cutest little set of my very own....but housekeeping would probably just steal those too. Oh, I was hot. I went on patrol around the building to see if I spied them. Ok, I'm getting mad again just thinking about it...change the subject.

I was just reading medical records on this guy that received Viagra and a video from his Dr. (I didn't mention a name, so I am well within HIPAA regulations). Ok, if you are old enough to need Viagra, and yet need a video on what to do.....do you really need it after all?

There is a guy beside me at work that clips his fingernails which drives me nuts. Can he not do that while he is spending an hour in the bathroom reading the sports section in the morning? Oh, or here's an idea....DO IT ALL AT HOME. The thing he REALLY does that drives me nuts: every day at 10:00 sharp, after getting that 15 minutes of work done subsequent to the bathroom break, he eats yogurt. The sound of the "scrape scrape scrape" of the spoon on the bottom of the yogurt container makes me nuts. Where is people's work ethic? (of course I am sitting here writing this, but that 's beside the point...)

The lady on the other side of me is moving (homes, not her personal being....well I guess she is moving that too since she's at lunch), and having to call all of the utility people to bless them out. It's stressing me....stress-by-association. I finally put my ear buds in to block it out ("make it go awayyyy.") I realized later I still had them in, no music, and just overall being a gimp. Duh. Reminds me of when I had Lasik. They give you these sexy-ass goggles to wear at night so you don't rub your eyes and pull your cornea's off or something. You have to wear them for three nights. Well, on the sixth night I realized I was still putting them on every night out of habit. Again.....duh.

Last but not least. Someone was telling me that I was not very nice (which is SOOOO not true), I think it's just because I laugh at people (but never anything I wouldn't laugh about to their face, or about myself even). They said that is why I don't have a smiley face by my nameplate like everyone else (I swear, I think there are more "smiley face" names on the bulletin board than there are people that work here....and yet not me. Screw 'em) . Well, this one girl was saying "your like....." and goes on describing me in (inaccurate) detail. When she was finished, I told her she had just described Helga from Hey Arnold, and I didn't appreciate it. Then we laughed. (people up here get their jollies from being cruel to each other)

Gotta love it.

Good and Evil

Yesterday I was up at the gym.

There is one guy up there that wears a tight little spandex muscle shirt. He does have some nice muscles...but he apparently thinks so too. Although he is a definite Monet....prettier from afar. He prances around. "LOOK AT ME."

uh....No.

I only stare at people that don't want to be looked at. I refuse to look at anyone that wants to be stared at. I don't play into that. Go look in a mirror and leave me alone. Like I alway say, "you think so much of yourself, you've got it covered. I don't have to think much of you." I would rather stare down and count the fibers in the carpet to keep from looking.

They have a new thing at the Y. You get a scan card and then a mini-scan card to put on your keychain. I won't give them my keys. I mean...I don't know these people. All they have to do is go outside, click the remote and my car will scream "me me...steal me or everything in me!"

So...once again I am accused of thinking everyone is bad, out to get me, blah blah blah. But no...I'm not negative, just realistic.

This leads to the same old debate on good vs evil. My b/f believes everyone is born good and then due to life events / circumstances / etc, will do evil things. I----being raised the good Christian that I am, believe some people are born EVIL and destined to burn in Hell. j/k...it's not for me to decide. But I do believe that some people are born evil. Period. If they had lived with Mother Teresa, she would have been known as Ole Drunkin' Teresa by the time they were through.

Nature vs nuture? I don't think you just happen upon a total lack of conscience, like you do a penny on the ground. or a Red Apple Sale at Foleys.

Now, my views are far from typical Christian though....Say, I don't think people like the gays are inherently evil. Not to say there are not evil gays.....there was one I came across in the bathroom at Mickey's the other night. But I don't think your gayity makes you evil. Ok....putting the flag away.

I'm more of a literal WWJD person. Well, except for laughing at people falling down in bars and stuff. But I consider myself more pseudo-evil.....it's not real, it just looks evil.

Oh hell....I'll toss a little politics in too while I'm at it.. Don't you find it ironic that the Republican party is considered the more Christian (or at least Religious....big difference there), but that Jesus would have undoubtedly been a Democrat?

I could be wrong, although that does not happen often.

exciting weekend

Friday night I went to Sardines. It was good. Good food, attractive waitstaff (for the most part....our waitperson was VERY attractive, that's all that matters). They had live music, but it was too loud. But that was ok, none of the people I was with were big talkers. When I'm the outgoing one in the group, you know you're in trouble. Personally, I think the little band should have warmed up in the kitchen or bathroom, or something. Listening to that while feeling guilting for scarfing down garlic bread was not enjoyable. The drummer started the warm up....to me it sounded like the table behind us was uneven and rocking back and forth Before I realized it was the drummer, I was ready to grab a matchbook and stick it under the table leg. bum.......bum.........bumbum........bum......What's that? That's not even warm up, that's a deathmarch. (yep, that's about as exciting as it got)

Saturday I went to the gym after a three day absence. Ok, I don't get this....I go every day and my weight ooches up from 172 to 180 (all muscle I'm sure), then I miss three days and am down to 170. How do you lose that much weight in a few days?

There was all sort of action outside for me to watch while I exercised. Little chi'rens playing soccer. That's always cute...the little tykes. But the best part was watching people walk past. There was a hole in the ground. I noticed that although not a single female tripped in it, every single male did. Hmmmm? It was hilarious. One guy had a blow out and threw his flipflop into the soccer field as he tried to not fall. I also noticed that all the african american ladies were pretty in pink....and yet all the white ladies were dressed to pick up cans on the side of the road. But none of them tripped.

And the girl at the concession stand had her chair set right beside the grill. It was HOT oustide...who would do that? I wanted to go out and move it for her since she apparently didn't have the sense to.

I enjoyed watching people trip...until this one little boy tripped, his soda pop flew through the air and all spilled out. He cried. I nearly joined in.

The best seat at Billy Bobs (believe me...this does tie in) is at the back left bar, first stool. The bar is on a platform, and EVERYONE trips coming up that step.... and that stool is front row seat. Some people try to catch themselves and take off running. Others just go with it and fall. Nothing better than a big ole bubba, holding his woman's hand, and taking her running with him, making her almost split her Rockies.

On the way home from the gym, I stopped at Walmart Neighborhood Market to buy toilet bowl cleaner. And got carded. For toilet bowl cleaner? Apparently people sniff it. Which is fine (not people sniffing it, but carding for it), but the little lady copped an attitude with me. Mistake. I have to admit, when I was cleaning the toilet, I lingered over it a little longer, embraced in the fumes. Didn't feel anything....except stupid.

Sunday went to get my hair cut. Uncle Buck nearly ran over me on the way there. How do cars that produce more smoke than the California fires pass inspection?

Well, you'd think I enlisted in the army. Got it all cut off. Kinda high-and-tight, with a little extra on top for the spiking. The girl cutting it (Gloria) was like "oh, are you sure you want to do that?" and half way through asked,"are you ok? you're not upset are you?" And when she was finished, "that was painful...you had such nice hair." Thanks....I feel pretty now. I wanted to say "Girl! You're eatin' into your tip." I wish I was like Brad Pitt and could sell my hair on Ebay....I would have made a killing.

And....last night was bowling league. I bowled 119, 97 and 93. You may think "YOU SUCK!!!" But since I've been known to bowl in the 40's....I was happy. Especially since they had just oiled the lanes and I was having issues with greasy balls. The guys we opposed (or versed, as my kids say) were real nice and funny. I hate it when it's a team of mean girls.

The weekend that was....