Tuesday, December 30, 2003
Pregnancy
Had dinner with Vale and Andy tonight. She's seven weeks away from delivering little Stefano, and she's absolutely gorgeous. I fully expect anyone carrying around excess kicking, somersaulting weight in their stomach to look exhausted, but she looks gorgeous. I can't wait to see what the baby turns out to look like. She's 100% pure-blood Italian and he's half Greek, half English. The only guarantee seems to be dark hair. I'm sure Stefano will be adorable. Did I mention that she looks gorgeous?
Had dinner with Vale and Andy tonight. She's seven weeks away from delivering little Stefano, and she's absolutely gorgeous. I fully expect anyone carrying around excess kicking, somersaulting weight in their stomach to look exhausted, but she looks gorgeous. I can't wait to see what the baby turns out to look like. She's 100% pure-blood Italian and he's half Greek, half English. The only guarantee seems to be dark hair. I'm sure Stefano will be adorable. Did I mention that she looks gorgeous?
Rehab
Wilbur finally took Barb away to rehab tonight. She actually agreed to go, but I don't really know if it will stick. She doesn't really want to clean herself up. She's still blaming Dan for her drinking, and while he's been a total prick, she doesn't see that she's destroying herself and quite probably her daughter with her behavior. It's so sad. She's so far gone that I don't know if she can make herself well again, even with help. I think she's trying to kill herself with the alcohol and cigarettes, but I don't think she sees it that way. She just lacks the balls to do it by way of a quick and efficient method. Is it even possible for someone to come back from this? Or is death really the only inevitable option?
Wilbur finally took Barb away to rehab tonight. She actually agreed to go, but I don't really know if it will stick. She doesn't really want to clean herself up. She's still blaming Dan for her drinking, and while he's been a total prick, she doesn't see that she's destroying herself and quite probably her daughter with her behavior. It's so sad. She's so far gone that I don't know if she can make herself well again, even with help. I think she's trying to kill herself with the alcohol and cigarettes, but I don't think she sees it that way. She just lacks the balls to do it by way of a quick and efficient method. Is it even possible for someone to come back from this? Or is death really the only inevitable option?
Bikini
I just bought a bikini for absolutely no good reason. I've never really had one. Ok, I had this weird little two piece thing when I was a kid, but that was mostly because I was too tall and skinny for a regular bathing suit that year. I don't have anyplace to wear this bikini, but why should that stop me? How silly am I?
I just bought a bikini for absolutely no good reason. I've never really had one. Ok, I had this weird little two piece thing when I was a kid, but that was mostly because I was too tall and skinny for a regular bathing suit that year. I don't have anyplace to wear this bikini, but why should that stop me? How silly am I?
Racism Begins at Home
My former boss, L, is first-generation American-born Chinese. Her mother came over to the US when she was married, so she still has a lot of old world ideas and biases. While L is horrified and embarrassed by it, I find it a little more acceptable and understandable in her mother than I would in my family that's been here since the Mayflower docked.
L has a new sorta-boyfriend. She finally broke down and confessed this to her mother when mom gave her a solemn lecture on the eve of her 32nd birthday about how she's devastated that L isn't married yet and she works too hard, etc. "We didn't come to this country so you could be a spinster." Lovely. But she tells mom about this new early-stage boyfriend and mom is delighted. L goes home and the rest of the story is in the hands of her sister.
Sis comes over and mom, proud as anything, is making fried rice in her wok and talking about how L finally has found a man and isn't it wonderful? Sis, knowing what buttons to push, says, "You know he's black, right?" Mom is infuriated. She's humiliated. She rants and raves about how wrong it is, and how she'll never be able to take her grandchildren to Chinatown because she'll be humiliated, and why doesn't L just stab her through the heart? She's now whacking at the wok with enough force to dent it because she's so angry and upset. This goes on for 45 minutes before sis bursts out laughing and says, "just kidding!" Mom doesn't know what to believe: is she really kidding or did she just say that to make mom feel better? But she should know that sis is evil enough to come up with that one on her own just for effect.
For the last three weeks, every time L talks to her mother, she starts the conversation with, "Are you sure?" meaning "Are you sure he's not black?" She's also gone as far as listing, in priority order, the races and ethnicities that are acceptable to mom. L, meanwhile, is relatively certain that she doesn't ever want to invite the boyfriend (who happens to be Swiss) over to meet her mother, even if it turns out that he's "the one" because she's horrified to think that her mother will make some comment about his whiteness that makes her sound like a completely racist freak.
I, of course, chime in with my two cents: "None of this would be a problem if you'd just date a nice Chinese boy." I thought she was going to smack me.
My former boss, L, is first-generation American-born Chinese. Her mother came over to the US when she was married, so she still has a lot of old world ideas and biases. While L is horrified and embarrassed by it, I find it a little more acceptable and understandable in her mother than I would in my family that's been here since the Mayflower docked.
L has a new sorta-boyfriend. She finally broke down and confessed this to her mother when mom gave her a solemn lecture on the eve of her 32nd birthday about how she's devastated that L isn't married yet and she works too hard, etc. "We didn't come to this country so you could be a spinster." Lovely. But she tells mom about this new early-stage boyfriend and mom is delighted. L goes home and the rest of the story is in the hands of her sister.
Sis comes over and mom, proud as anything, is making fried rice in her wok and talking about how L finally has found a man and isn't it wonderful? Sis, knowing what buttons to push, says, "You know he's black, right?" Mom is infuriated. She's humiliated. She rants and raves about how wrong it is, and how she'll never be able to take her grandchildren to Chinatown because she'll be humiliated, and why doesn't L just stab her through the heart? She's now whacking at the wok with enough force to dent it because she's so angry and upset. This goes on for 45 minutes before sis bursts out laughing and says, "just kidding!" Mom doesn't know what to believe: is she really kidding or did she just say that to make mom feel better? But she should know that sis is evil enough to come up with that one on her own just for effect.
For the last three weeks, every time L talks to her mother, she starts the conversation with, "Are you sure?" meaning "Are you sure he's not black?" She's also gone as far as listing, in priority order, the races and ethnicities that are acceptable to mom. L, meanwhile, is relatively certain that she doesn't ever want to invite the boyfriend (who happens to be Swiss) over to meet her mother, even if it turns out that he's "the one" because she's horrified to think that her mother will make some comment about his whiteness that makes her sound like a completely racist freak.
I, of course, chime in with my two cents: "None of this would be a problem if you'd just date a nice Chinese boy." I thought she was going to smack me.
Monday, December 29, 2003
Survival of the Bitchiest
I made it through Christmas. I don't know how, but I did. C was complaining that I'm such a bitch when I go back there, but how can I help it when people are baiting me all the time? If I had one more person complain that Christmas wasn't working out the way they wanted because I was so inflexible.... Well, guess what? It didn't go the way I wanted it to go, either, so you're all just going to have to deal with it and shut up for a while. I'm so sick and tired of sacrificing the things I want to do for everybody else, and then hearing that I'm not sacrificing enough to satisfy them. Don't you love my Christmas joy?
I made it through Christmas. I don't know how, but I did. C was complaining that I'm such a bitch when I go back there, but how can I help it when people are baiting me all the time? If I had one more person complain that Christmas wasn't working out the way they wanted because I was so inflexible.... Well, guess what? It didn't go the way I wanted it to go, either, so you're all just going to have to deal with it and shut up for a while. I'm so sick and tired of sacrificing the things I want to do for everybody else, and then hearing that I'm not sacrificing enough to satisfy them. Don't you love my Christmas joy?
Monday, December 22, 2003
Quakes
6.5 magnitude halfway between SF and LA, and I could still feel it. It was one of the stronger ones I've experienced, very rock-and-rolly with the light fixtures swinging madly from the ceiling. People were yelling "quake! quake!" as though the rest of us didn't notice... actually, it reminded me of being at hockey games when the fans are yelling, "shoot it! shoot it!" But it was pretty cool, and I was shocked to find out how far away the epicenter was, and how strong it turned out to be.
Love the seismo-watch.com website. http://quake.wr.usgs.gov/recenteqs/Maps/121-36.html
6.5 magnitude halfway between SF and LA, and I could still feel it. It was one of the stronger ones I've experienced, very rock-and-rolly with the light fixtures swinging madly from the ceiling. People were yelling "quake! quake!" as though the rest of us didn't notice... actually, it reminded me of being at hockey games when the fans are yelling, "shoot it! shoot it!" But it was pretty cool, and I was shocked to find out how far away the epicenter was, and how strong it turned out to be.
Love the seismo-watch.com website. http://quake.wr.usgs.gov/recenteqs/Maps/121-36.html
Fighting With Your Wife?
I'm not exactly sure what kind of fight would result in such extreme behavior.
I'm not exactly sure what kind of fight would result in such extreme behavior.
Love
My 6-year-old neighbor, Ben, is in love. I don't know whether to be shocked that he's so grown up, or delighted that he's experiencing all of those goofy feelings that love brings (It sort of reminds me of the kid in Love Actually). Her name is Sophie (that's just a beautiful name, it conjures up images of dark-haired stunning beauties) and evidently she's the girl that all the little boys like, including all of his friends. But she seems to be quite smitten with him, much to the dismay of his longtime buddy Kira, who we now suspect has been harboring secret wedding plans for all of this time.
Ben's father is teasing him mercilessly, which leaves my little darling in an absolute freaked-out state where he's blushing and laughing and angry all at the same time. The poor little guy.
What he doesn't realize is that I still remember my kindergarten and first grade "boyfriends". Stephen was kindergarten. He sat next to me, told me I was the prettiest girl he knew, and brought me bouquets of dandilions that he picked on the way to school. But he went to Catholic grade school in first grade and I never really saw him again. I hear that he eventually became a relatively high-powered drug dealer. In first grade it was Jamie (yes, a boy), who liked to ambush me and kiss me. He was a problem child -- he spent most of his days standing in the corner or in transit to the principal's office -- but I still remember him nonetheless. Then there was that drought until fourth grade when Allen decided he liked me and called every day to tell me everything he knew about Nascar. It was a boring little relationship. And then... nothing. Many crushes on my part... Michael being the most chronic of my fixations through eighth grade. High school was also a drought until very late in eleventh grade, when Louie decided that he'd use me to make Dana and/or Bridget jealous. Didn't work, and when he realized that he ditched me on Fourth of July. That was the same day I met Collin, who had good long-term relationship potential (he's still a friend), but the fact that he was never home from college made things impossible. There really wasn't much else between that and the seemingly-neverending torturous Phil thing except for Mark asking me to the prom three months early, and me jumping at the chance to have any date at all.
Hmmm, looking back on it, is it any wonder that the kindergarten and first grade guys were memorable? They really didn't have much competition, did they?
My 6-year-old neighbor, Ben, is in love. I don't know whether to be shocked that he's so grown up, or delighted that he's experiencing all of those goofy feelings that love brings (It sort of reminds me of the kid in Love Actually). Her name is Sophie (that's just a beautiful name, it conjures up images of dark-haired stunning beauties) and evidently she's the girl that all the little boys like, including all of his friends. But she seems to be quite smitten with him, much to the dismay of his longtime buddy Kira, who we now suspect has been harboring secret wedding plans for all of this time.
Ben's father is teasing him mercilessly, which leaves my little darling in an absolute freaked-out state where he's blushing and laughing and angry all at the same time. The poor little guy.
What he doesn't realize is that I still remember my kindergarten and first grade "boyfriends". Stephen was kindergarten. He sat next to me, told me I was the prettiest girl he knew, and brought me bouquets of dandilions that he picked on the way to school. But he went to Catholic grade school in first grade and I never really saw him again. I hear that he eventually became a relatively high-powered drug dealer. In first grade it was Jamie (yes, a boy), who liked to ambush me and kiss me. He was a problem child -- he spent most of his days standing in the corner or in transit to the principal's office -- but I still remember him nonetheless. Then there was that drought until fourth grade when Allen decided he liked me and called every day to tell me everything he knew about Nascar. It was a boring little relationship. And then... nothing. Many crushes on my part... Michael being the most chronic of my fixations through eighth grade. High school was also a drought until very late in eleventh grade, when Louie decided that he'd use me to make Dana and/or Bridget jealous. Didn't work, and when he realized that he ditched me on Fourth of July. That was the same day I met Collin, who had good long-term relationship potential (he's still a friend), but the fact that he was never home from college made things impossible. There really wasn't much else between that and the seemingly-neverending torturous Phil thing except for Mark asking me to the prom three months early, and me jumping at the chance to have any date at all.
Hmmm, looking back on it, is it any wonder that the kindergarten and first grade guys were memorable? They really didn't have much competition, did they?
Friday, December 19, 2003
Missing You
It's hard to be separated from your friend for so long. I thought that it wouldn't make a difference to be separated for so long, but it's hard to communicate exclusively through e-mail and maintain any sort of a friendship. Sometimes I wish I could just call and talk, but it doesn't exactly work that way. I feel awkward, and you shouldn't feel like that with someone you consider to be a good friend. I don't even know if we'll ever see each other again.
It's hard to be separated from your friend for so long. I thought that it wouldn't make a difference to be separated for so long, but it's hard to communicate exclusively through e-mail and maintain any sort of a friendship. Sometimes I wish I could just call and talk, but it doesn't exactly work that way. I feel awkward, and you shouldn't feel like that with someone you consider to be a good friend. I don't even know if we'll ever see each other again.
Italian
My friend V is Italian, born and raised in Bologna. I love getting e-mails from her because they're always signed "Baci, V". Only the Italians can get away with signing e-mails "Kisses". If I were to sign my e-mails with "baci" I'd get some strange looks. :-)
My friend V is Italian, born and raised in Bologna. I love getting e-mails from her because they're always signed "Baci, V". Only the Italians can get away with signing e-mails "Kisses". If I were to sign my e-mails with "baci" I'd get some strange looks. :-)
Depression on NPR
Talk of the Nation was discussing depression. Looking back on what I know now, I really was depressed most of my life, but I don't think I associated it with the word "depression" because to me, depressed people were suicidal and I wasn't. I didn't realize that it came in degrees. Lots of people called in and said the same thing. But the complete anxiety, the powerful sense of hopelessness, the dark cloud that seemed to follow me around... that was all related. Am I all better on the medication? I really don't know. It's definitely an improvement, but probably not a cure.
I hate taking medication, though. I hate having to rely on it. If I could find some way to do without taking the pill and the antidepressants every day, I would. But would that send me into some sort of dark spiral that I couldn't escape from? I'm afraid of that. I know that even being on the pill helped somewhat to alleviate the hormonal-emotional ups and downs, and that the combination of the two leaves me better than I've ever been, but I still wish I could be on my own, drug free. If I ever want to have kids, I'll have to be. That's a little scary.
But for now, I should just be happy that it's working, right? No complaints about medication costs or remembering to take pills, just be grateful that it's there for me. I was born at the right time, I guess. Lucky me.
Talk of the Nation was discussing depression. Looking back on what I know now, I really was depressed most of my life, but I don't think I associated it with the word "depression" because to me, depressed people were suicidal and I wasn't. I didn't realize that it came in degrees. Lots of people called in and said the same thing. But the complete anxiety, the powerful sense of hopelessness, the dark cloud that seemed to follow me around... that was all related. Am I all better on the medication? I really don't know. It's definitely an improvement, but probably not a cure.
I hate taking medication, though. I hate having to rely on it. If I could find some way to do without taking the pill and the antidepressants every day, I would. But would that send me into some sort of dark spiral that I couldn't escape from? I'm afraid of that. I know that even being on the pill helped somewhat to alleviate the hormonal-emotional ups and downs, and that the combination of the two leaves me better than I've ever been, but I still wish I could be on my own, drug free. If I ever want to have kids, I'll have to be. That's a little scary.
But for now, I should just be happy that it's working, right? No complaints about medication costs or remembering to take pills, just be grateful that it's there for me. I was born at the right time, I guess. Lucky me.
High-Risk
The city of SJ has posted the high risk sex offenders on their police website. Oh goody for me, most live in my zip code. I've looked at all of their faces and I swear I've seen several of them. This doesn't really inspire confidence. I'm not really sure that I like the idea of being home alone.
The city of SJ has posted the high risk sex offenders on their police website. Oh goody for me, most live in my zip code. I've looked at all of their faces and I swear I've seen several of them. This doesn't really inspire confidence. I'm not really sure that I like the idea of being home alone.
12/19
It's our anniversary today, 8 years together. Strange that we still celebrate the dating anniversary, but our wedding was such a fiasco that we'd much rather be reminded of the pre-Christmas trip to Arizona when we got together. The bonus of all of this is that I get to go out for a fabulous dinner tonight, and the restaurant will seem even nicer than usual because of all the Christmas decorations and white lights.
I really need to get working on the Christmas cookie dough tonight. The one cookie that I was working on this week -- advance prep usually makes life easier -- completely fell apart in the final compilation stages last night. I still don't know what went wrong, but it went wrong in spectacular fashion. It's never a good sign when you can't roll out your sugar cookies. Maybe I should just bake the dough blob.
Last night I went to the bar for Christmas with HH. She spends nearly all of her time and money there, and the place isn't cheap. On the other hand, at least it's right around the corner and within walking distance of her apartment, so I don't have to worry about her driving home like she did from her previous favorite bar. During the time I was there with her last night, she had seven beers and was ordering the eighth when I decided it was time to go home. Something tells me that it's not a good idea to be mixing voluminous quantities of alcohol with prozac and luvox. Plus, her judgement is significantly impaired. She's totally interested in sleeping with these twin brothers who look like miniature versions of Elvis, each with a worse artificial haircolor than the other. If they knew what was good for them, they would think that she was god's gift to the world... they should understand that they should be grateful to have found anyone who would be interested in their weird-looking selves. I think she must be insane.
I'm looking forward to today being over. I want the weekend to start.
It's our anniversary today, 8 years together. Strange that we still celebrate the dating anniversary, but our wedding was such a fiasco that we'd much rather be reminded of the pre-Christmas trip to Arizona when we got together. The bonus of all of this is that I get to go out for a fabulous dinner tonight, and the restaurant will seem even nicer than usual because of all the Christmas decorations and white lights.
I really need to get working on the Christmas cookie dough tonight. The one cookie that I was working on this week -- advance prep usually makes life easier -- completely fell apart in the final compilation stages last night. I still don't know what went wrong, but it went wrong in spectacular fashion. It's never a good sign when you can't roll out your sugar cookies. Maybe I should just bake the dough blob.
Last night I went to the bar for Christmas with HH. She spends nearly all of her time and money there, and the place isn't cheap. On the other hand, at least it's right around the corner and within walking distance of her apartment, so I don't have to worry about her driving home like she did from her previous favorite bar. During the time I was there with her last night, she had seven beers and was ordering the eighth when I decided it was time to go home. Something tells me that it's not a good idea to be mixing voluminous quantities of alcohol with prozac and luvox. Plus, her judgement is significantly impaired. She's totally interested in sleeping with these twin brothers who look like miniature versions of Elvis, each with a worse artificial haircolor than the other. If they knew what was good for them, they would think that she was god's gift to the world... they should understand that they should be grateful to have found anyone who would be interested in their weird-looking selves. I think she must be insane.
I'm looking forward to today being over. I want the weekend to start.
Wednesday, December 17, 2003
25?
Women are waiting until they're 25 to have kids? Maybe I'm from a very isolated part of society, but I don't think I know anyone who had kids any earlier than 28, and most haven't had any. So if we're all waiting until later, how many teen pregnancies does it take to offset that? Must be tons.
Women are waiting until they're 25 to have kids? Maybe I'm from a very isolated part of society, but I don't think I know anyone who had kids any earlier than 28, and most haven't had any. So if we're all waiting until later, how many teen pregnancies does it take to offset that? Must be tons.
Headaches
I already had a headache from the flight. I come back home to learn the following:
1) The project I busted my ass on from Florida didn't really need to be done by the 18th. It's actually due January 12. Haha, fooled me. So to resolve this with its British-based PMM, I have to have a 6AM conference call tomorrow morning. Shouldn't you be more accommodating when you know I'm about to rip you a brand new asshole?
2) PG&E thinks my business account is delinquent, as I'm past due on a bill. However, I know for an absolute fact that I never received the bill, as I'm fanatical about paying the business stuff the day it comes in.
3) My $5,000 transfer from personal account to business was rejected. After much calling to determine where my money went, it seems that the banks decided that my handwriting didn't match. So now I have no recourse and I'm out $95 in bank fees because they were overzealous. Wouldn't you think they'd call to verify it, especially since my name is on both accounts?
I'm going to go scream now. Hope y'all are having better days than I am.
I already had a headache from the flight. I come back home to learn the following:
1) The project I busted my ass on from Florida didn't really need to be done by the 18th. It's actually due January 12. Haha, fooled me. So to resolve this with its British-based PMM, I have to have a 6AM conference call tomorrow morning. Shouldn't you be more accommodating when you know I'm about to rip you a brand new asshole?
2) PG&E thinks my business account is delinquent, as I'm past due on a bill. However, I know for an absolute fact that I never received the bill, as I'm fanatical about paying the business stuff the day it comes in.
3) My $5,000 transfer from personal account to business was rejected. After much calling to determine where my money went, it seems that the banks decided that my handwriting didn't match. So now I have no recourse and I'm out $95 in bank fees because they were overzealous. Wouldn't you think they'd call to verify it, especially since my name is on both accounts?
I'm going to go scream now. Hope y'all are having better days than I am.
Tuesday, December 16, 2003
Marriage: Full of Surprises
So last night, in bed, naked, C and I had a two-hour conversation about sex and whether or not we were free to have it with other people. It's hard not to be honest when you're completely naked (and sober), and it went something like this (the abridged version)....
C: Marriages get screwed up because people think that the sex is everything. Sex isn't marriage. You could have sex with someone else and it wouldn't change things. I know you love me. I know you don't want to leave me. So why should I feel threatened about you having sex with someone else?
Me: Because, if the tables are turned, I don't know that I really like the thought of someone else in your arms, touching you. Wouldn't that freak you out?
C: Only if you didn't want the guy (or girl, for that matter) touching you.
Me: So as long as there's consent, you're cool with it?
C: Yes.
Me: Why?
C: Because we missed out on college (note: C was dating a psycho and I had some serious emotional baggage). Because you learn things from experience. Because I'm secure enough in our relationship to know that I'm always going to be your best friend, the one you want to spend your life with, and the one that you want to curl up with at night.
Me: I don't know. Part of me knows that I'll suffer from internalized guilt -- even if you don't make me feel that way -- because I feel guilty about everything.
C: But it's just sex. It's not a relationship.
Me: But I can't even contemplate sex unless it's with someone that I really have a connection with. It's not anonymous, faceless, pick-up-a-stranger-at-a-bar sex. There would have to be *something* there or I couldn't get into it. It might be a friend, someone that I have an ongoing relationship with that way.
C: Fine. Just explain to him that you want to sleep with him and explore and learn and grow, and he'll be fine with that.
Me: How do you know?
C: I'm a guy. Most don't want commitment.
Me: So what, do you have someone lined up that you want to fuck?
C: No.
Me: You just want the option to remain open?
C: More for you than for me. You get completely inspired by new relationships. You get bubbly and happy and giggly. It's a good thing.
Me: So I'm not suddenly un-sexy to you?
C: Hell no! You're sexier than ever, and I swear that. You're fun. You're beautiful. Guys would be lining up to sleep with you.
Me: They never did before.
C: You were oblivious.
Me: So we need ground rules. 1) Not in our house. 2) Be safe. 3) No psychotic Fatal Attraction-style bunny-boiling other woman/man. And 4), learn something new and share it with the class.
C: Deal.
I still don't know how I feel about it, although I did fall asleep running through my mental rolodex of all the could-have-beens and almosts of my life (ok, there's only three of them). But would I? Could I? I had the chance once and stopped myself, not because I thought C would leave me but because I didn't know if I could deal with me. Maybe I should see what my market value is these days, 30 and married. Would anyone want me anyway?
C knows me better than anyone. Today, coming back on the boat in a torrential downpour, he starts driving the boat in circles to let the dolphins jump in the wake and play for me. He knew I was delighted by it. He knew it made me happy, even though it made us both wetter (I was soaked to the bone). But I loved it, and he knew it and he'd never drive past a moment like that without making the most of it.
Speaking of storms, I've never been offshore in one before, but today it was amazing. The air goes from hot to cold to hot as the currents shift and circle and the storm rolls in and out with varying levels of fury. It's fascinating. I don't really recommend being out in a boat the size of a bathroom tile in a storm, but it was a fascinating experience.
So last night, in bed, naked, C and I had a two-hour conversation about sex and whether or not we were free to have it with other people. It's hard not to be honest when you're completely naked (and sober), and it went something like this (the abridged version)....
C: Marriages get screwed up because people think that the sex is everything. Sex isn't marriage. You could have sex with someone else and it wouldn't change things. I know you love me. I know you don't want to leave me. So why should I feel threatened about you having sex with someone else?
Me: Because, if the tables are turned, I don't know that I really like the thought of someone else in your arms, touching you. Wouldn't that freak you out?
C: Only if you didn't want the guy (or girl, for that matter) touching you.
Me: So as long as there's consent, you're cool with it?
C: Yes.
Me: Why?
C: Because we missed out on college (note: C was dating a psycho and I had some serious emotional baggage). Because you learn things from experience. Because I'm secure enough in our relationship to know that I'm always going to be your best friend, the one you want to spend your life with, and the one that you want to curl up with at night.
Me: I don't know. Part of me knows that I'll suffer from internalized guilt -- even if you don't make me feel that way -- because I feel guilty about everything.
C: But it's just sex. It's not a relationship.
Me: But I can't even contemplate sex unless it's with someone that I really have a connection with. It's not anonymous, faceless, pick-up-a-stranger-at-a-bar sex. There would have to be *something* there or I couldn't get into it. It might be a friend, someone that I have an ongoing relationship with that way.
C: Fine. Just explain to him that you want to sleep with him and explore and learn and grow, and he'll be fine with that.
Me: How do you know?
C: I'm a guy. Most don't want commitment.
Me: So what, do you have someone lined up that you want to fuck?
C: No.
Me: You just want the option to remain open?
C: More for you than for me. You get completely inspired by new relationships. You get bubbly and happy and giggly. It's a good thing.
Me: So I'm not suddenly un-sexy to you?
C: Hell no! You're sexier than ever, and I swear that. You're fun. You're beautiful. Guys would be lining up to sleep with you.
Me: They never did before.
C: You were oblivious.
Me: So we need ground rules. 1) Not in our house. 2) Be safe. 3) No psychotic Fatal Attraction-style bunny-boiling other woman/man. And 4), learn something new and share it with the class.
C: Deal.
I still don't know how I feel about it, although I did fall asleep running through my mental rolodex of all the could-have-beens and almosts of my life (ok, there's only three of them). But would I? Could I? I had the chance once and stopped myself, not because I thought C would leave me but because I didn't know if I could deal with me. Maybe I should see what my market value is these days, 30 and married. Would anyone want me anyway?
C knows me better than anyone. Today, coming back on the boat in a torrential downpour, he starts driving the boat in circles to let the dolphins jump in the wake and play for me. He knew I was delighted by it. He knew it made me happy, even though it made us both wetter (I was soaked to the bone). But I loved it, and he knew it and he'd never drive past a moment like that without making the most of it.
Speaking of storms, I've never been offshore in one before, but today it was amazing. The air goes from hot to cold to hot as the currents shift and circle and the storm rolls in and out with varying levels of fury. It's fascinating. I don't really recommend being out in a boat the size of a bathroom tile in a storm, but it was a fascinating experience.
Sunday, December 14, 2003
Room Service
Lovely breakfast, Sunday New York Times... ok, so what if it's cloudy and windy outside? This is Sunday at its classic best.
The news is filled with the news of the Saddam capture. Hopefully this will boost our status with the world, proving that we can occasionally follow through. But I'm pretty sure that al Qaeda will launch a serious offensive as a reminder that they're still here. Just before Christmas. Oh goody.
Lovely breakfast, Sunday New York Times... ok, so what if it's cloudy and windy outside? This is Sunday at its classic best.
The news is filled with the news of the Saddam capture. Hopefully this will boost our status with the world, proving that we can occasionally follow through. But I'm pretty sure that al Qaeda will launch a serious offensive as a reminder that they're still here. Just before Christmas. Oh goody.
Saturday, December 13, 2003
Model Behavior
At tonight's holiday dinner for C's company, one of the semi-drunk wives (with a hysterically thick southern drawl) told me, "You sure are purty. You oughta be a mawdel. In't she? In't she just so purty?" Cracked me up. Meanwhile, the funny part is that I'm unevenly sunburned after a day on Miami Beach, so I don't even look particularly good. I thanked her for saying so nonetheless.
At tonight's holiday dinner for C's company, one of the semi-drunk wives (with a hysterically thick southern drawl) told me, "You sure are purty. You oughta be a mawdel. In't she? In't she just so purty?" Cracked me up. Meanwhile, the funny part is that I'm unevenly sunburned after a day on Miami Beach, so I don't even look particularly good. I thanked her for saying so nonetheless.
Thursday, December 11, 2003
Flight Fright
All of a sudden I have serious reservations about boarding the flight in the morning. This is weird. Well, whatever happens is meant to be, right?
All of a sudden I have serious reservations about boarding the flight in the morning. This is weird. Well, whatever happens is meant to be, right?
Uh... No.
No. Just plain no. A thousand times no. The dress. No. The hair. Should it match the color of the dress? No!
No. Just plain no. A thousand times no. The dress. No. The hair. Should it match the color of the dress? No!
Ooohhh... Shiny
I'm totally fascinated by my nails when they're painted. They shimmer. They shine. They're still appallingly short, but they still look good. Professional help does good things.
I'm still feeling good about the wellness fair and open house. I feel like I'm pulling something good together for the first time. It's a real event. Something that's not only good for the business (I hope!) but good for the people, too. It's what I always wanted to do, really. I wanted to help people and make them feel better about themselves. It's like working at Children's Hospital, but without the added depression of watching kids get chemo or have chronic illnesses.
I'm looking forward to my Christmas party, making cookies and having the little kids get totally delighted by the whole experience (sugar makes them soooo happy).
I'm also looking forward to Palm Springs. C seems to think that it's a crime that he can't spend time with me. I told him that I'm going to park myself at the bar and see how many sales reps I can get to buy me drinks. This is my idea of sport. I've never bought a drink at one of our kickoffs, so I'm sure I could swing a similar deal at theirs. Although I must admit that I can only think of a few men that I'd like to have buying me drinks. There are just some people that are more fun than others.
I'm totally fascinated by my nails when they're painted. They shimmer. They shine. They're still appallingly short, but they still look good. Professional help does good things.
I'm still feeling good about the wellness fair and open house. I feel like I'm pulling something good together for the first time. It's a real event. Something that's not only good for the business (I hope!) but good for the people, too. It's what I always wanted to do, really. I wanted to help people and make them feel better about themselves. It's like working at Children's Hospital, but without the added depression of watching kids get chemo or have chronic illnesses.
I'm looking forward to my Christmas party, making cookies and having the little kids get totally delighted by the whole experience (sugar makes them soooo happy).
I'm also looking forward to Palm Springs. C seems to think that it's a crime that he can't spend time with me. I told him that I'm going to park myself at the bar and see how many sales reps I can get to buy me drinks. This is my idea of sport. I've never bought a drink at one of our kickoffs, so I'm sure I could swing a similar deal at theirs. Although I must admit that I can only think of a few men that I'd like to have buying me drinks. There are just some people that are more fun than others.
Wednesday, December 10, 2003
I Feel Good
I'm really making progress on the open house/wellness fair thing for January. I just feel like things are coming together nicely and I'm in really good shape. I'm probably not. It's probably all an illusion, but I like it anyway.
Plus, I now realize that I have off on the 19th of January for Martin Luther King day, which means that I can go with C to Palm Springs. He's got this national sales meeting thing and won't be able to have anything to do with me, but it's being held at a nice hotel/spa. Hey, if it's got a pool and a weight room, I'm there.
I'm really making progress on the open house/wellness fair thing for January. I just feel like things are coming together nicely and I'm in really good shape. I'm probably not. It's probably all an illusion, but I like it anyway.
Plus, I now realize that I have off on the 19th of January for Martin Luther King day, which means that I can go with C to Palm Springs. He's got this national sales meeting thing and won't be able to have anything to do with me, but it's being held at a nice hotel/spa. Hey, if it's got a pool and a weight room, I'm there.
Tuesday, December 09, 2003
I Love White Lights
The house is decorated with white christmas lights and I just love it. To me, there's nothing in the world that's prettier than a million tiny white lights and the soft sparkly glow they give off. If I had my way, the house would have these lights every day of the year. They just make me feel good.
The house is decorated with white christmas lights and I just love it. To me, there's nothing in the world that's prettier than a million tiny white lights and the soft sparkly glow they give off. If I had my way, the house would have these lights every day of the year. They just make me feel good.
Norwegians
Most of the Neutrogena moisturizers are some version or another of a Norwegian formula. Do the Norwegians have some sort of magic lotion potion that only Neutrogena knows about? And as most people probably couldn't identify Norway on a map, does the Norwegian name and flag really carry any specific brand power?
Most of the Neutrogena moisturizers are some version or another of a Norwegian formula. Do the Norwegians have some sort of magic lotion potion that only Neutrogena knows about? And as most people probably couldn't identify Norway on a map, does the Norwegian name and flag really carry any specific brand power?
Website
I have a million things to do to prep for the open house and wellness fair on Jan 10, and not the least of which is the complete overhaul of my very lame website. I don't have any idea how I'll find the time to do it. Maybe Santa will bring me a new website for Christmas.
On the bright side, though, I have verbal commitments from the Cancer Society, Arthritis Foundation and Leukemia Society to come and speak at the wellness fair. I also have interest from a meditational specialist, a massage therapist and a chiropractor. It's not a bad group, really, considering that I'm putting this together at the last minute.
I need to design my t-shirts tonight. No exceptions. I'm way behind schedule.
I have a million things to do to prep for the open house and wellness fair on Jan 10, and not the least of which is the complete overhaul of my very lame website. I don't have any idea how I'll find the time to do it. Maybe Santa will bring me a new website for Christmas.
On the bright side, though, I have verbal commitments from the Cancer Society, Arthritis Foundation and Leukemia Society to come and speak at the wellness fair. I also have interest from a meditational specialist, a massage therapist and a chiropractor. It's not a bad group, really, considering that I'm putting this together at the last minute.
I need to design my t-shirts tonight. No exceptions. I'm way behind schedule.
Making Adults Seek Help
How do you force an adult to seek help? Legally, you can't. I can't drag my mother to a doctor or psychologist, and I can't drag my neighbor to detox even though she's killing herself with alcohol. Last night my other neighbor called the cops to break into the house and check on her, but she wasn't home. We don't know where she would have gone without the car, or if she's wandering the streets of San Jose in a drunken haze. The police were supposedly checking the hospitals to see if she checked herself in somewhere, but evidently that hasn't turned out to be the case.
She's had such a difficult life. She's got a severely autistic son and a husband who's been cheating for years. They're finally in the process of divorcing and he's taken their son. This seems to have prompted the current six-week bender that's left her unable to eat food and unable to stop drinking because the withdrawal symptoms are so severe. It's scary. We know that she's killing herself slowly, but there's nothing that we can legally do about it. I just don't know how to sit around and do nothing. I don't want to see her suffering.
How do you force an adult to seek help? Legally, you can't. I can't drag my mother to a doctor or psychologist, and I can't drag my neighbor to detox even though she's killing herself with alcohol. Last night my other neighbor called the cops to break into the house and check on her, but she wasn't home. We don't know where she would have gone without the car, or if she's wandering the streets of San Jose in a drunken haze. The police were supposedly checking the hospitals to see if she checked herself in somewhere, but evidently that hasn't turned out to be the case.
She's had such a difficult life. She's got a severely autistic son and a husband who's been cheating for years. They're finally in the process of divorcing and he's taken their son. This seems to have prompted the current six-week bender that's left her unable to eat food and unable to stop drinking because the withdrawal symptoms are so severe. It's scary. We know that she's killing herself slowly, but there's nothing that we can legally do about it. I just don't know how to sit around and do nothing. I don't want to see her suffering.
Monday, December 08, 2003
This Depresses Me
Every time I hear about Dru Sjodin, I get more and more depressed about it. There's this part of me that feels like if this is happening in North Dakota, then the rest of the world doesn't have a chance.
On the news, they keep saying that they hold out hope that she's still alive because they found Elizabeth Smart alive. But somehow I think that there isn't a lot of chance that this 22-year-old student is living as the brainwashed 2nd wife of a man who thinks he's a Mormon fundamentalist preacher. I think we all know that something terribly bad has happened to her, and it makes me angry that predatory fiends are everywhere and nobody's safe, not even a girl in North Dakota.
The only thing that would make me angrier is if her husband happened to kill her and her unborn baby on Christmas Eve... not that I'm implying anything about any cases that are currently being prosecuted. What is wrong with people?
Every time I hear about Dru Sjodin, I get more and more depressed about it. There's this part of me that feels like if this is happening in North Dakota, then the rest of the world doesn't have a chance.
On the news, they keep saying that they hold out hope that she's still alive because they found Elizabeth Smart alive. But somehow I think that there isn't a lot of chance that this 22-year-old student is living as the brainwashed 2nd wife of a man who thinks he's a Mormon fundamentalist preacher. I think we all know that something terribly bad has happened to her, and it makes me angry that predatory fiends are everywhere and nobody's safe, not even a girl in North Dakota.
The only thing that would make me angrier is if her husband happened to kill her and her unborn baby on Christmas Eve... not that I'm implying anything about any cases that are currently being prosecuted. What is wrong with people?
Sunday, December 07, 2003
Nobody Wins
It's been that kind of day. C, I guess feeling bad about having been away for a week and sick for the week before that, decided to do something nice for me and do the laundry while I was out at pilates. Since I wasn't home to stop him, I now have two sweaters, three workout tops and two pairs of formerly long-length workout pants that met their demise in the dryer and now are sized appropriately for my toddler neighbor. So I've been biting my tongue all day.
Meanwhile, in his effort for constructive criticism, he's on my case about the fact that I'm now out of business postcards. Of course, I hadn't planned on participating in yesterday's Nordstrom fitness day until two days ago, so I hadn't known that my last 75 cards would go so quickly. Yes, I should have planned ahead, but I didn't. So now the effort has to be put into the creation of new cards. While there are claims of interest and support, his efforts to photograph me as the anonymous model for the artwork haven't been anywhere near his usual quality, and he's dragging his feet on getting anything going from the photo archive (we've got lots of pics of snowy mountains from Alaska and Switzerland, so why can't I do the campaign with one of those?) I think I'm being punished for my lack of forethought, and all I want to do in response is yell about how my clothes are ruined. I'm so damned immature.
So now it's time to steal the computer and look for artwork.
It's been that kind of day. C, I guess feeling bad about having been away for a week and sick for the week before that, decided to do something nice for me and do the laundry while I was out at pilates. Since I wasn't home to stop him, I now have two sweaters, three workout tops and two pairs of formerly long-length workout pants that met their demise in the dryer and now are sized appropriately for my toddler neighbor. So I've been biting my tongue all day.
Meanwhile, in his effort for constructive criticism, he's on my case about the fact that I'm now out of business postcards. Of course, I hadn't planned on participating in yesterday's Nordstrom fitness day until two days ago, so I hadn't known that my last 75 cards would go so quickly. Yes, I should have planned ahead, but I didn't. So now the effort has to be put into the creation of new cards. While there are claims of interest and support, his efforts to photograph me as the anonymous model for the artwork haven't been anywhere near his usual quality, and he's dragging his feet on getting anything going from the photo archive (we've got lots of pics of snowy mountains from Alaska and Switzerland, so why can't I do the campaign with one of those?) I think I'm being punished for my lack of forethought, and all I want to do in response is yell about how my clothes are ruined. I'm so damned immature.
So now it's time to steal the computer and look for artwork.
Saturday, December 06, 2003
One Small Step for Man, One Giant Leap for Me
I spent three hours at a Nordstrom fitness presentation in which I schmoozed, self-promoted, used the microphone and taught people the principles of Pilates. As this is approximately 180 degrees counter to my nature, it was a huge thing for me. I gave out lots of passes and schedules and hopefully I'll see an increase in attendance (oh, dare I dream?)
Can't be invisible anymore.
I spent three hours at a Nordstrom fitness presentation in which I schmoozed, self-promoted, used the microphone and taught people the principles of Pilates. As this is approximately 180 degrees counter to my nature, it was a huge thing for me. I gave out lots of passes and schedules and hopefully I'll see an increase in attendance (oh, dare I dream?)
Can't be invisible anymore.
The Dream
Last night I had one of those epic dreams that went on for ages. I was with a guy, a friend, someone I actually knew (not one of those nameless, faceless dream people) and we were running from some sort of bad guys, although the reason for the fleeing and the nature of the badness was not ever explained. The odd thing was that at every available opportunity -- dark alleyways, a secluded corner of a nightclub, a laundromat, the roof of a building -- we were having sex. Couldn't keep our hands off each other. And the sex was really good, too, as far as dream sex goes. There really ought to be more dreams like that.
Last night I had one of those epic dreams that went on for ages. I was with a guy, a friend, someone I actually knew (not one of those nameless, faceless dream people) and we were running from some sort of bad guys, although the reason for the fleeing and the nature of the badness was not ever explained. The odd thing was that at every available opportunity -- dark alleyways, a secluded corner of a nightclub, a laundromat, the roof of a building -- we were having sex. Couldn't keep our hands off each other. And the sex was really good, too, as far as dream sex goes. There really ought to be more dreams like that.
Friday, December 05, 2003
What I Don't Miss About Philly
Snow. My parents called today to say they've got 3-5 inches and are looking at 8-10 more tomorrow. There's no need for that. It almost guarantees long lines at the doctor's for wrecked backs.
Snow. My parents called today to say they've got 3-5 inches and are looking at 8-10 more tomorrow. There's no need for that. It almost guarantees long lines at the doctor's for wrecked backs.
Crustaceans
It's good to see that scientists have come up with a creative name for the crustacean fossil.
It's good to see that scientists have come up with a creative name for the crustacean fossil.
Thursday, December 04, 2003
How'd You Hurt Your Knee?
In bed. Alone. How depressing. No funky positions. No sex. No pillow fights or goofing around. Just sleeping. I went to bed with two functional knees and woke up with one that hurts to stand on. I might have to drag a stranger in off the street to have sex just so I can have a better story. I wonder if I can lure anyone in with the promise of new flannel sheets... or would the sex be enough?
Which reminds me... two weeks ago, I went to In-n-Out burger for lunch. As I was waiting for my number to be called, this engineer-looking guy approaches me. He had all of the tact of the creepy guy that keeps writing to my personal ad.
Him: "You're really tall. Can you do anything special with those long legs?"
Me: "Like walking?"
Him: "No! You know... special... in bed?"
Me: (rolling eyes) "Yes, I can crush you between my powerful thighs. If I had a nickel for every guy I paralyzed that way...." he gives me a sort of panicky look "Oh, it's not permanent paralysis, just for a few hours... except for that one guy... I think he's walking again, but we lost touch when I moved. Physical therapy does wonders these days...."
He decided it was better to wait for his burger on the other side of the room. I think I scared him.
In bed. Alone. How depressing. No funky positions. No sex. No pillow fights or goofing around. Just sleeping. I went to bed with two functional knees and woke up with one that hurts to stand on. I might have to drag a stranger in off the street to have sex just so I can have a better story. I wonder if I can lure anyone in with the promise of new flannel sheets... or would the sex be enough?
Which reminds me... two weeks ago, I went to In-n-Out burger for lunch. As I was waiting for my number to be called, this engineer-looking guy approaches me. He had all of the tact of the creepy guy that keeps writing to my personal ad.
Him: "You're really tall. Can you do anything special with those long legs?"
Me: "Like walking?"
Him: "No! You know... special... in bed?"
Me: (rolling eyes) "Yes, I can crush you between my powerful thighs. If I had a nickel for every guy I paralyzed that way...." he gives me a sort of panicky look "Oh, it's not permanent paralysis, just for a few hours... except for that one guy... I think he's walking again, but we lost touch when I moved. Physical therapy does wonders these days...."
He decided it was better to wait for his burger on the other side of the room. I think I scared him.
Wednesday, December 03, 2003
Let's Get It On
Perpetually plagued by songs in my head, tonight it's Marvin Gaye. Sometimes it helps to write out the lyrics I know (or think I know).
I've been really tryin, baby
Tryin to hold back these feelings for so long
And if you feel, like I feel baby
Come on, oh come on,
Let's get it on
We're all sensitive people
With so much love to give,
understand me sugar...
There's nothin wrong with me
Lovin you -
And givin yourself to me can never be wrong
If the love is true
Don't you know how sweet and wonderful, life can be
I'm askin you baby, to get it on with me...
Let's get it on
Let's get it on
Perpetually plagued by songs in my head, tonight it's Marvin Gaye. Sometimes it helps to write out the lyrics I know (or think I know).
I've been really tryin, baby
Tryin to hold back these feelings for so long
And if you feel, like I feel baby
Come on, oh come on,
Let's get it on
We're all sensitive people
With so much love to give,
understand me sugar...
There's nothin wrong with me
Lovin you -
And givin yourself to me can never be wrong
If the love is true
Don't you know how sweet and wonderful, life can be
I'm askin you baby, to get it on with me...
Let's get it on
Let's get it on
Keyboard Oddities
I left for lunch and all was well. I returned from lunch and my keyboard thought I was in Copenhagen. I don't know how it happened, but suddenly I encountered all sorts of interesting non-letters like øØ and special characters not being where they're supposed to be. Evidently my keyboard thinks it's on some sort of European adventure without me.
I left for lunch and all was well. I returned from lunch and my keyboard thought I was in Copenhagen. I don't know how it happened, but suddenly I encountered all sorts of interesting non-letters like øØ and special characters not being where they're supposed to be. Evidently my keyboard thinks it's on some sort of European adventure without me.
Business
C works for Johnson & Johnson. While the company isn't perfect, I've always admired their credo, which puts the patients first and the shareholders last:
Our Credo
We believe our first responsibility is to the doctors, nurses and patients,
to mothers and fathers and all others who use our products and services.
In meeting their needs everything we do must be of high quality.
We must constantly strive to reduce our costs
in order to maintain reasonable prices.
Customers' orders must be serviced promptly and accurately.
Our suppliers and distributors must have an opportunity
to make a fair profit.
We are responsible to our employees,
the men and women who work with us throughout the world.
Everyone must be considered as an individual.
We must respect their dignity and recognize their merit.
They must have a sense of security in their jobs.
Compensation must be fair and adequate,
and working conditions clean, orderly and safe.
We must be mindful of ways to help our employees fulfill
their family responsibilities.
Employees must feel free to make suggestions and complaints.
There must be equal opportunity for employment, development
and advancement for those qualified.
We must provide competent management,
and their actions must be just and ethical.
We are responsible to the communities in which we live and work
and to the world community as well.
We must be good citizens – support good works and charities
and bear our fair share of taxes.
We must encourage civic improvements and better health and education.
We must maintain in good order
the property we are privileged to use,
protecting the environment and natural resources.
Our final responsibility is to our stockholders.
Business must make a sound profit.
We must experiment with new ideas.
Research must be carried on, innovative programs developed
and mistakes paid for.
New equipment must be purchased, new facilities provided
and new products launched.
Reserves must be created to provide for adverse times.
When we operate according to these principles,
the stockholders should realize a fair return.
So a while back, a mock credo was written for my company, which shall remain nameless:
Anonymous Credo
Our first responsibility is to our shareholders,
the misguided institutions, speculators and gamblers
who have unwisely forsaken their wealth
in exchange for ownership in this hopeless enterprise.
Our next responsibility is to our marketing department,
whose delusional visions and righteous declarations
remind us that we are not worthy of their superior intellect.
Our final responsibility is to our employees,
the incompetent mother-f***ing a**holes
who are the ruin of this organization.
We shall provide them with all the scorn they deserve.
C works for Johnson & Johnson. While the company isn't perfect, I've always admired their credo, which puts the patients first and the shareholders last:
Our Credo
We believe our first responsibility is to the doctors, nurses and patients,
to mothers and fathers and all others who use our products and services.
In meeting their needs everything we do must be of high quality.
We must constantly strive to reduce our costs
in order to maintain reasonable prices.
Customers' orders must be serviced promptly and accurately.
Our suppliers and distributors must have an opportunity
to make a fair profit.
We are responsible to our employees,
the men and women who work with us throughout the world.
Everyone must be considered as an individual.
We must respect their dignity and recognize their merit.
They must have a sense of security in their jobs.
Compensation must be fair and adequate,
and working conditions clean, orderly and safe.
We must be mindful of ways to help our employees fulfill
their family responsibilities.
Employees must feel free to make suggestions and complaints.
There must be equal opportunity for employment, development
and advancement for those qualified.
We must provide competent management,
and their actions must be just and ethical.
We are responsible to the communities in which we live and work
and to the world community as well.
We must be good citizens – support good works and charities
and bear our fair share of taxes.
We must encourage civic improvements and better health and education.
We must maintain in good order
the property we are privileged to use,
protecting the environment and natural resources.
Our final responsibility is to our stockholders.
Business must make a sound profit.
We must experiment with new ideas.
Research must be carried on, innovative programs developed
and mistakes paid for.
New equipment must be purchased, new facilities provided
and new products launched.
Reserves must be created to provide for adverse times.
When we operate according to these principles,
the stockholders should realize a fair return.
So a while back, a mock credo was written for my company, which shall remain nameless:
Anonymous Credo
Our first responsibility is to our shareholders,
the misguided institutions, speculators and gamblers
who have unwisely forsaken their wealth
in exchange for ownership in this hopeless enterprise.
Our next responsibility is to our marketing department,
whose delusional visions and righteous declarations
remind us that we are not worthy of their superior intellect.
Our final responsibility is to our employees,
the incompetent mother-f***ing a**holes
who are the ruin of this organization.
We shall provide them with all the scorn they deserve.
Is she nuts?
Geena Davis is expecting twins. She's 47. She already has an 18-month-old baby. This sounds like a nightmare to me.
Geena Davis is expecting twins. She's 47. She already has an 18-month-old baby. This sounds like a nightmare to me.
How to Win at Divorce
This was one of my spams this morning:
Win at Divorce!
Learn the tricks that give you an advantage in the game! Your best defense is a good offense! Click here for 10 tips your ex doesn't want you to know!
In high school, I used to get mailings for basketball camps that used a lot of the same themes... offense is defense... 10 tips your opponent doesn't want you to know.... They never did help me.
This was one of my spams this morning:
Win at Divorce!
Learn the tricks that give you an advantage in the game! Your best defense is a good offense! Click here for 10 tips your ex doesn't want you to know!
In high school, I used to get mailings for basketball camps that used a lot of the same themes... offense is defense... 10 tips your opponent doesn't want you to know.... They never did help me.
Tuesday, December 02, 2003
Manicures and Girlie Things
My former boss, L, gave me a coupon for a free manicure at a local salon. Can't beat free, right? So I'm going tonight to be pampered and loved. Honestly, there's little in the world as great as a hand massage. Unless it's a full-body massage by a really gorgeous man with beautiful eyes, but that's another story entirely.
I go to Miami in a week and a half. I'm contemplating an artificial spray-on tan to look like I fit in with the Miami crew. I don't want to be the only pale woman there. Although with the number of freckles I have, I don't think there's any way to hide the fact that I am naturally white as a ghost. I still haven't figured out what I'm going to wear, either. Probably another all-black night. I have no creativity.
I just got the best set of flannel sheets from Lands' End. They're so soft and welcoming. I didn't want to get up this morning because I was just loving the feel of soft flannel on my skin. Some people prefer silk. I prefer flannel. I'm so totally unsexy.
I have to finish the desperately depressing financial numbers tonight. It's ugly. I don't know what made me think I could operate a business. Silly of me, really. I think my only hope is getting a bunch of money back in taxes. I don't know what bothers me more: that I'm losing money, or that I feel like I'm failing myself.
My former boss, L, gave me a coupon for a free manicure at a local salon. Can't beat free, right? So I'm going tonight to be pampered and loved. Honestly, there's little in the world as great as a hand massage. Unless it's a full-body massage by a really gorgeous man with beautiful eyes, but that's another story entirely.
I go to Miami in a week and a half. I'm contemplating an artificial spray-on tan to look like I fit in with the Miami crew. I don't want to be the only pale woman there. Although with the number of freckles I have, I don't think there's any way to hide the fact that I am naturally white as a ghost. I still haven't figured out what I'm going to wear, either. Probably another all-black night. I have no creativity.
I just got the best set of flannel sheets from Lands' End. They're so soft and welcoming. I didn't want to get up this morning because I was just loving the feel of soft flannel on my skin. Some people prefer silk. I prefer flannel. I'm so totally unsexy.
I have to finish the desperately depressing financial numbers tonight. It's ugly. I don't know what made me think I could operate a business. Silly of me, really. I think my only hope is getting a bunch of money back in taxes. I don't know what bothers me more: that I'm losing money, or that I feel like I'm failing myself.
Failings
I tried to write a draft of a whitepaper for a coworker, and it turns out that the topic I was given ("Collaborative Computing") is not really what the paper was supposed to be about. I understood it as a vehicle for the explanation of why collaborative requires multi-level security protection. He sees it as an analysis of Exchange, SharePoint and Domino. To me, it's not exactly the same thing. And if you wanted the paper written about specific environments, wouldn't you mention that? But it is, of course, my fault as always. I didn't ask the right questions. Clearly I'm just a fool.
I tried to write a draft of a whitepaper for a coworker, and it turns out that the topic I was given ("Collaborative Computing") is not really what the paper was supposed to be about. I understood it as a vehicle for the explanation of why collaborative requires multi-level security protection. He sees it as an analysis of Exchange, SharePoint and Domino. To me, it's not exactly the same thing. And if you wanted the paper written about specific environments, wouldn't you mention that? But it is, of course, my fault as always. I didn't ask the right questions. Clearly I'm just a fool.
Monday, December 01, 2003
Late Nights in a Quiet House
Somehow when I'm home alone at night everything is more clear. Maybe I'm going to drown under the financial weight of the business. Maybe my day job sucks immensely. Maybe I love more than I should. But right now it doesn't matter. Right now I'm wrapping the last of the Christmas presents and I'm about to snuggle into warm flannel sheets and hold onto a pillow like a child with a teddy bear. I'll sleep peacefully and dream crazy dreams. Tomorrow the world will be daunting once again, but for now, everything is cool.
Somehow when I'm home alone at night everything is more clear. Maybe I'm going to drown under the financial weight of the business. Maybe my day job sucks immensely. Maybe I love more than I should. But right now it doesn't matter. Right now I'm wrapping the last of the Christmas presents and I'm about to snuggle into warm flannel sheets and hold onto a pillow like a child with a teddy bear. I'll sleep peacefully and dream crazy dreams. Tomorrow the world will be daunting once again, but for now, everything is cool.
Monday
I'm struggling to deal with my day job when all I can think about is the studio. Mostly because the studio is scaring me, but that's beside the point. My current studio to-do list includes (in no particular order):
1. New ad for paper
2. New schedules for the brochure box
3. Major financial evaluation
4. New website (could my current one look any more amateur than it does now? of course, it looks amateur because I have no time to dedicate to its development)
5. Plan the open house weekend for January
6. Order goodies and giveaways for aforementioned open house (what about magnets? remind yourself of fitness every time you open the refrigerator door? shirts? keyrings? do I lack all creativity? yes I do)
7. New postcards
8. Get in touch with the small biz development center in SJ
9. Update the QuickBooks (oh, the tedium)
10. Come up with a bisteringly successful marketing plan as I enter the new year
Am I even capable of getting more than 20% of these things done? I wonder.
I'm struggling to deal with my day job when all I can think about is the studio. Mostly because the studio is scaring me, but that's beside the point. My current studio to-do list includes (in no particular order):
1. New ad for paper
2. New schedules for the brochure box
3. Major financial evaluation
4. New website (could my current one look any more amateur than it does now? of course, it looks amateur because I have no time to dedicate to its development)
5. Plan the open house weekend for January
6. Order goodies and giveaways for aforementioned open house (what about magnets? remind yourself of fitness every time you open the refrigerator door? shirts? keyrings? do I lack all creativity? yes I do)
7. New postcards
8. Get in touch with the small biz development center in SJ
9. Update the QuickBooks (oh, the tedium)
10. Come up with a bisteringly successful marketing plan as I enter the new year
Am I even capable of getting more than 20% of these things done? I wonder.
