Sometimes work is such a blessing. It gives me a place to dump all my frustrated energy and become absorbed in something besides my own endlessly whirling personal thoughts. Today I helped map out my company's new consumer website redesign-- a badly needed update that should really add some value for customers stumbling through the chemical darkness. I returned phone calls, wrote, sent e-mails, usual stuff. I felt capable and competent.
Professionally and personally I still can't help but wonder what the future will be for me. In the movies, glimpses in to the future are always sort of ominous (Ada's look in to the wishing well in Cold Mountain, for instance). It's possible, I guess, that I could look in to the crystal ball and find only bad things. But how much better would I feel if I could see just far enough to get to something good? A new job for T, another vacation somewhere wonderful, college graduation for A, something on my wish list coming true.
I guess there is no crystal ball. Only faith that God and his archangel Time will make all things right again. And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why faith is so tricky. When you need it most is when it's the hardest to have.
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
silver and gold
I am unbelievably lucky to have made a few good friends in my life. I was not ever the kind of kid that did that easily. In fact I took a goodly number of ass-kickings in elementary and junior high and spent most of high school as a bookish wallflower type, the kind of girl the geeks always fell in love with because I was more accessible than the high school beauties that roamed the halls. My modest parade of suitors included more than one D&D player, boys from the marching band and my best friends' brother. My friends were mostly their friends.
However, in third grade I was paired up with a beautiful little blonde girl who, for reasons that still escape me, seemed to like me as much as I liked her. I was her plain brown shadow for many years and some ways still am, though I am comfortable in this role now. She's one of the only people whose personality can immediately eclipse my own. It sort of feels good.
In college I finally hit the friend jackpot after a long dry spell of casual friendships in high school -- I now had half a hall full of friends to call my own. And then that summer, I went to work as a camp counselor and met two girls who changed my life. One poor soul I subjected to quite a bit of needling (my mama always said they tease you because they like you) and the title "Mother Nature" which still survives today, despite her best efforts to kill it. The other was a gentle girl who always smiled but never said a whole lot. She had the most common sense of any person I'd ever known and the wildest head of thick red hair I'd ever seen.
So there they are. My three rocks. Jesus had Peter, I have the Tabby Cat, Frau Lobster and the Deester. They are, despite their own trials of abuse, divorce, miscarriage, illness, special needs kids, financial duress and bad hair days, the safe harbors that I pull in to when the storms of my life become unbearable. They shelter me still.
I think it's important to make new friends and I have made a few since those muggy, smoky, silly, sleepless days of childhood and young adulthood. But I could not have made my new friends without finally having learned how to be a friend myself and what a true friend looks like: these are lessons they taught me. They taught me about emergency roadtrips, holding hands in the emergency room, the strength of the human heart, crazy drunken laughter, God, family, horses and the integrity of the one-match fire. I really, really love them and I hope they know.
Since it's Towanyak Tuesday on "McBrideFamilyblog", I too will sing my song at the council fire:
"Make new friends but keep the old,
one is silver and the other gold
A circle's round, it has no end
that's how long I want to be your friend."
However, in third grade I was paired up with a beautiful little blonde girl who, for reasons that still escape me, seemed to like me as much as I liked her. I was her plain brown shadow for many years and some ways still am, though I am comfortable in this role now. She's one of the only people whose personality can immediately eclipse my own. It sort of feels good.
In college I finally hit the friend jackpot after a long dry spell of casual friendships in high school -- I now had half a hall full of friends to call my own. And then that summer, I went to work as a camp counselor and met two girls who changed my life. One poor soul I subjected to quite a bit of needling (my mama always said they tease you because they like you) and the title "Mother Nature" which still survives today, despite her best efforts to kill it. The other was a gentle girl who always smiled but never said a whole lot. She had the most common sense of any person I'd ever known and the wildest head of thick red hair I'd ever seen.
So there they are. My three rocks. Jesus had Peter, I have the Tabby Cat, Frau Lobster and the Deester. They are, despite their own trials of abuse, divorce, miscarriage, illness, special needs kids, financial duress and bad hair days, the safe harbors that I pull in to when the storms of my life become unbearable. They shelter me still.
I think it's important to make new friends and I have made a few since those muggy, smoky, silly, sleepless days of childhood and young adulthood. But I could not have made my new friends without finally having learned how to be a friend myself and what a true friend looks like: these are lessons they taught me. They taught me about emergency roadtrips, holding hands in the emergency room, the strength of the human heart, crazy drunken laughter, God, family, horses and the integrity of the one-match fire. I really, really love them and I hope they know.
Since it's Towanyak Tuesday on "McBrideFamilyblog", I too will sing my song at the council fire:
"Make new friends but keep the old,
one is silver and the other gold
A circle's round, it has no end
that's how long I want to be your friend."
Monday, June 27, 2005
typhoon
Do you remember the aftershots of the Asian typhoon? Like where some places were filled with garbage and muddy water and pieces of land that had existed were completely washed away?
That's how I feel.
I've tried and tried to write something deep today. Then I tried for just intelligible. I can't. There's nothing in my head but muddy water and swirling garbage. Sorry. I'll try again later.
That's how I feel.
I've tried and tried to write something deep today. Then I tried for just intelligible. I can't. There's nothing in my head but muddy water and swirling garbage. Sorry. I'll try again later.
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
i'm ok
Hey, I'm ok. I can breathe now.
I don't think I took a deep breath all day yesterday. I'm not sure I breathed at all. Maybe I was just holding it from 7:15 a.m. when all the shit started until I lay down in my own bed last night and not the spare at my mom's -- a place in which I fully expected to end up yesterday afternoon. I've been divorced once, I know what it's like to look down the barrel of that gun. Which is perhaps why I defended a marriage I sometimes find, frankly, indefensible. And why I think I'm crazy but also crazy like a fox.
Nonetheless, I think I'm OK. All the parts are still here. So family and friends, please do not worry.
I'm heading out of town again which means an uncharacteristic few days' silence for me while I travel out of town for meetings and then come back to enjoy (hopefully) my birthday weekend. I treated myself to a nice lunch today -- and a cannoli, which are hard to come by in a place like KC. Too much nutmeg in the shell and maraschino cherries no longer hold the same allure they did when I was 5 but still a nice 3 p.m. snack. All things considered I feel -- weirdly cheerful. Not "I hit the lottery" cheerful but "I won $2 on a scratch-off ticket" cheerful.
And when it's very quiet, I have these images in my head -- of work husband #3 standing in my office door yesterday saying "Don't you leave, don't you leave, don't do it. Don't you do it." And T with tears in his eyes and his voice thick in his throat, finally, finally saying he would make good on his promise not to quit our marriage. Those are what stays with me from yesterday and they'll be what I think about tonight as I lay down in my own bed again. And probably when I lay down a few hundred miles away from my bed tomorrow night. Actually I think they're going to be there for a long time.
I don't think I took a deep breath all day yesterday. I'm not sure I breathed at all. Maybe I was just holding it from 7:15 a.m. when all the shit started until I lay down in my own bed last night and not the spare at my mom's -- a place in which I fully expected to end up yesterday afternoon. I've been divorced once, I know what it's like to look down the barrel of that gun. Which is perhaps why I defended a marriage I sometimes find, frankly, indefensible. And why I think I'm crazy but also crazy like a fox.
Nonetheless, I think I'm OK. All the parts are still here. So family and friends, please do not worry.
I'm heading out of town again which means an uncharacteristic few days' silence for me while I travel out of town for meetings and then come back to enjoy (hopefully) my birthday weekend. I treated myself to a nice lunch today -- and a cannoli, which are hard to come by in a place like KC. Too much nutmeg in the shell and maraschino cherries no longer hold the same allure they did when I was 5 but still a nice 3 p.m. snack. All things considered I feel -- weirdly cheerful. Not "I hit the lottery" cheerful but "I won $2 on a scratch-off ticket" cheerful.
And when it's very quiet, I have these images in my head -- of work husband #3 standing in my office door yesterday saying "Don't you leave, don't you leave, don't do it. Don't you do it." And T with tears in his eyes and his voice thick in his throat, finally, finally saying he would make good on his promise not to quit our marriage. Those are what stays with me from yesterday and they'll be what I think about tonight as I lay down in my own bed again. And probably when I lay down a few hundred miles away from my bed tomorrow night. Actually I think they're going to be there for a long time.
broken
Not sure what to even post today. Yesterday was an awful day. He was going to leave. No plan, no job, no place to go. But he'd had enough of me. I went home at lunch -- furious-- and thinking I'd make things easier and just pack my things, since I did have a place I could go. But I stopped to talk to him. And we talked and we talked. We talked, finally, like our marriage depended on it.
We picked things up in conversation and turned them over for examination -- and then we tossed most of them aside with the clarity that comes with knowing that we couldn't waste precious time on pebbles when there's a boulder rolling down the mountainside. At 1:30, after almost two hours, he very suddenly went around the corner and I couldn't follow him. He said he'd stay. Then I didn't want to. I didn't want him to. I went upstairs to pack, feeling angry, manipulated and very, very tired. He came upstairs to help. That makes exactly one time he has ever followed me in to a room to talk. He carried one of my bags to the living room. I took it back upstairs and threw it so hard that it smacked against the far wall. I left -- empty handed.
Today the storm is over. After work I lay down next to him and we both cried. Because "I love you, I'm sorry" doesn't fix everything. And we have no idea how to fix what's broken. But we promised. We promised. And so I guess we'll try, even though we have no idea what we're doing. And one thing we do agree on is that counseling is just a good way to throw away several hundred dollars we don't have. We've both been down that road before.
Look at me
I'm in a place
I never thought I'd be
Don't have the strength
To fight anymore
Or a reason not to leave
So tell me why I still keep holding on
To something I just cannot see
What makes you stay
When your world falls apart
What makes you try one more time
When it's not in your heart
At the end of your rope
When you can't find any hope
You still look at him and say
I just can't walk away
Tell me what makes you stay
I'm not afraid
Of living alone
I was alone before he came
I've been in love
Many times before
But this time's not the same
I've always been the first to say goodbye
Now it's the last thing I can do
What makes you stay
When your world falls apart
What makes you try one more time
When it's not in your heart
At the end of your rope
When you can't find any hope
You still look at him and say
I just can't walk away
Tell me what makes you stay
When it goes this deep
And feels this strong
I can't convince myself
That this love is wrong
What makes you stay
When your world falls apart
What makes you try one more time
When it's not in your heart
At the end of your rope
When you can't find any hope
You still look at him and say
I just can't walk away
Tell me what makes you stay.
-Deana Carter
We picked things up in conversation and turned them over for examination -- and then we tossed most of them aside with the clarity that comes with knowing that we couldn't waste precious time on pebbles when there's a boulder rolling down the mountainside. At 1:30, after almost two hours, he very suddenly went around the corner and I couldn't follow him. He said he'd stay. Then I didn't want to. I didn't want him to. I went upstairs to pack, feeling angry, manipulated and very, very tired. He came upstairs to help. That makes exactly one time he has ever followed me in to a room to talk. He carried one of my bags to the living room. I took it back upstairs and threw it so hard that it smacked against the far wall. I left -- empty handed.
Today the storm is over. After work I lay down next to him and we both cried. Because "I love you, I'm sorry" doesn't fix everything. And we have no idea how to fix what's broken. But we promised. We promised. And so I guess we'll try, even though we have no idea what we're doing. And one thing we do agree on is that counseling is just a good way to throw away several hundred dollars we don't have. We've both been down that road before.
Look at me
I'm in a place
I never thought I'd be
Don't have the strength
To fight anymore
Or a reason not to leave
So tell me why I still keep holding on
To something I just cannot see
What makes you stay
When your world falls apart
What makes you try one more time
When it's not in your heart
At the end of your rope
When you can't find any hope
You still look at him and say
I just can't walk away
Tell me what makes you stay
I'm not afraid
Of living alone
I was alone before he came
I've been in love
Many times before
But this time's not the same
I've always been the first to say goodbye
Now it's the last thing I can do
What makes you stay
When your world falls apart
What makes you try one more time
When it's not in your heart
At the end of your rope
When you can't find any hope
You still look at him and say
I just can't walk away
Tell me what makes you stay
When it goes this deep
And feels this strong
I can't convince myself
That this love is wrong
What makes you stay
When your world falls apart
What makes you try one more time
When it's not in your heart
At the end of your rope
When you can't find any hope
You still look at him and say
I just can't walk away
Tell me what makes you stay.
-Deana Carter
Monday, June 20, 2005
I'm not panicking
I must not panic. I must not panic. Angie has lots of expensive tuition to pay and T doesn't have a job. But I must not panic.
How many times must I learn this lesson, God? To trust to wholly, without doubt or hesitation. To believe that you only want good things for me. To believe. To believe that you will carry me. To believe in him.
A friend stopping by while I was writing this. And while I was talking to him I realized something. Every problem, every situation has at its root a solution that is stupidly simple. Love or don't love. Stand by the decisions you make or take the easy way out. Believe or don't believe. Once we make that go/no-go choice everything else becomes easier, more clear. And there is always an easier choice and a harder one. It takes guts to not take the easy way out.
As for me I continue to believe, to love, to stay, to honor, to obey. I will learn and relearn this lesson as often as I must until God is through with me.
Faith and love are apt to be spasmodic in the best minds. Men live the brink of mysteries and harmonies into which they never enter, and with their hands on the door-latch they die outside
- Ralph Waldo Emerson
How many times must I learn this lesson, God? To trust to wholly, without doubt or hesitation. To believe that you only want good things for me. To believe. To believe that you will carry me. To believe in him.
A friend stopping by while I was writing this. And while I was talking to him I realized something. Every problem, every situation has at its root a solution that is stupidly simple. Love or don't love. Stand by the decisions you make or take the easy way out. Believe or don't believe. Once we make that go/no-go choice everything else becomes easier, more clear. And there is always an easier choice and a harder one. It takes guts to not take the easy way out.
As for me I continue to believe, to love, to stay, to honor, to obey. I will learn and relearn this lesson as often as I must until God is through with me.
Faith and love are apt to be spasmodic in the best minds. Men live the brink of mysteries and harmonies into which they never enter, and with their hands on the door-latch they die outside
- Ralph Waldo Emerson
Friday, June 17, 2005
birthday
Let it be known for posterity that I am about to turn 38. One week from tomorrow.
Let it also be known that I don't feel 38. Or 37 for that matter. Many days I think my maturation process halted at 17. Well, that's not true. I still think and do stupid stuff. Only now I regret it more and sometimes I think about the consequences before I do it.
Such is the price for growing older.
Celebrities also turning 38 this year: Nicole Kidman (on Monday), Lili Taylor, Pamela Anderson (oh, goodie), Carrie-Anne Moss, Maria Bello, Anna Nicole Smith (oh, goodie x 2), Faith Hill, Paul Giamatti, Harry Connick, Jr., Julia Roberts, Rufus Sewell, Chris Rock, David Boreanaz, Melina Kanakarides.
This is my way of confirming to myself that I could still be hot. Who's hotter than Julia, Nicole and Faith?
Oh, me, that's right.
Let it also be known that I don't feel 38. Or 37 for that matter. Many days I think my maturation process halted at 17. Well, that's not true. I still think and do stupid stuff. Only now I regret it more and sometimes I think about the consequences before I do it.
Such is the price for growing older.
Celebrities also turning 38 this year: Nicole Kidman (on Monday), Lili Taylor, Pamela Anderson (oh, goodie), Carrie-Anne Moss, Maria Bello, Anna Nicole Smith (oh, goodie x 2), Faith Hill, Paul Giamatti, Harry Connick, Jr., Julia Roberts, Rufus Sewell, Chris Rock, David Boreanaz, Melina Kanakarides.
This is my way of confirming to myself that I could still be hot. Who's hotter than Julia, Nicole and Faith?
Oh, me, that's right.
Thursday, June 16, 2005
the unbearable lightness of being alone
T and K left yesterday -- he to Colorado to see his brother and she to her mother's. Weeks ago I had a really strong craving to be alone and I wasn't... now I am and I'm kind of hating it. I fixed myself a huge salad for dinner and a cucumber and chicken salad sandwich. I flipped channels for a while, watched a few minutes of three movies I'd seen before. Then out of sheer boredom I decided to try a yoga tape I bought a couple of years ago and never opened. K actually tried it the other night and had fun with it so I thought it would be a nice switch from the treadmill.
I thought it was kind of a weenie workout until the jelly legs kicked in 20 minutes after I was done. I will say it was very relaxing and the stretching woke up muscles that haven't been doing much besides holding me upright for the last 2 years. It's hard not to snicker when the yogi starts talking about my eyes getting smaller and my front brain resting on my back brain. I had to fast forward through that part. More than 2 minutes in the relaxation pose and I'll be relaxed until 6 a.m., sister.
The yoga got me through until shortly before 9 p.m. I fed the dogs, ran laundry, picked up, rattled around and headed upstairs to lay my clothes out for today. A sure sign of boredom ... the willingness to iron. I hate ironing yet there I was, starching a crisp white shirt for work. Hey, at least I feel pretty today...
I think being alone with other people in the house is better -- even if I don't get control over the remote.
3 more days until K comes home and 5 until T is back. I used to be great at being by myself. Used to get that light, don't-worry-about-anything feeling: I enjoyed just taking care of me. I've clearly forgotten how to do this. And of course, by the time I figure it out and start to enjoy it, they'll be back.
In a totally non-related note, Skippy "Nutty Smores" trail mix bars are awesome and only 3 points. But the name just sounds too much like "$lutty wh0res". Or maybe that's just my particular mind warp.
I thought it was kind of a weenie workout until the jelly legs kicked in 20 minutes after I was done. I will say it was very relaxing and the stretching woke up muscles that haven't been doing much besides holding me upright for the last 2 years. It's hard not to snicker when the yogi starts talking about my eyes getting smaller and my front brain resting on my back brain. I had to fast forward through that part. More than 2 minutes in the relaxation pose and I'll be relaxed until 6 a.m., sister.
The yoga got me through until shortly before 9 p.m. I fed the dogs, ran laundry, picked up, rattled around and headed upstairs to lay my clothes out for today. A sure sign of boredom ... the willingness to iron. I hate ironing yet there I was, starching a crisp white shirt for work. Hey, at least I feel pretty today...
I think being alone with other people in the house is better -- even if I don't get control over the remote.
3 more days until K comes home and 5 until T is back. I used to be great at being by myself. Used to get that light, don't-worry-about-anything feeling: I enjoyed just taking care of me. I've clearly forgotten how to do this. And of course, by the time I figure it out and start to enjoy it, they'll be back.
In a totally non-related note, Skippy "Nutty Smores" trail mix bars are awesome and only 3 points. But the name just sounds too much like "$lutty wh0res". Or maybe that's just my particular mind warp.
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
next stop
I’ve blathered on fairly frequently about my need to lose weight (note the list on the lower right hand side of my blog). I say I’m going to do something and then I do something: I eat. I eat sour cream raisin pie, dark chocolate m&ms, valomilks, corn chips, french onion dip, Nachos Bell Grande, chocolate covered raisins, Snickers popables, guacamole.
If I can’t control anything else in my life, I can control this. Next stop, 135. 5 pounds less than this picture. I love this picture. I want to be this picture. Again.
We see here why we’re not making any progress?
So yesterday I started again. It was a good food day. I had vegetables. I worked out. I limited my intake of dark chocolate m&ms to 1/8 cup (enjoyed in bed while reading Weight Watchers magazine)! I had 22 points.
If I can’t control anything else in my life, I can control this. Next stop, 135. 5 pounds less than this picture. I love this picture. I want to be this picture. Again.
See more progress on: Lose 30 pounds
Monday, June 13, 2005
Bookish
A meme I picked up from "The Main Point" - minus the pictures of the books next to my bed. Use your imagination. There are plenty and also a large stack of magazines, mostly travel and home improvement.
Number of books I own: probably in the neighborhood of 300-400. They're in every room except the bathrooms and the laundry room.
Last book I purchased: Don't Know Much about History, Good Grief, I'm Not the New Me
Last book I reread: Lord of the Rings: Return of the King
Five books for a desert island: The Bible, Don Quixote - and three books from my bookshelf at home -- "Strangers in High Places", "Don't Know Much About History" and "the Poisonwood Bible"
Book I'd thwack someone on the head with : The Unabridged William Shakespeare comes to mind. The one I had in college was the largest book I ever owned. But the only one I could find on Amazon was just 3.5 pounds. Whereas the Webster's Third New International Dictionary, Unabridged is over 10 pounds.
Book I'd like to burn : Farenheit 451. Delicious irony.
Book that is overrated : The Corrections. I tried to read it but it's so mean-spirited I just couldn't enjoy it. I will try again, one of these days.
Fun Classics: Pride & Prejudice. Jane Austen's dialogue is so perfect.
Last Book I Read: Last Book I finished was "I'm Not the New Me". I'll be done with "Good Grief" probably today. On deck: "Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell".
Number of books I own: probably in the neighborhood of 300-400. They're in every room except the bathrooms and the laundry room.
Last book I purchased: Don't Know Much about History, Good Grief, I'm Not the New Me
Last book I reread: Lord of the Rings: Return of the King
Five books for a desert island: The Bible, Don Quixote - and three books from my bookshelf at home -- "Strangers in High Places", "Don't Know Much About History" and "the Poisonwood Bible"
Book I'd thwack someone on the head with : The Unabridged William Shakespeare comes to mind. The one I had in college was the largest book I ever owned. But the only one I could find on Amazon was just 3.5 pounds. Whereas the Webster's Third New International Dictionary, Unabridged is over 10 pounds.
Book I'd like to burn : Farenheit 451. Delicious irony.
Book that is overrated : The Corrections. I tried to read it but it's so mean-spirited I just couldn't enjoy it. I will try again, one of these days.
Fun Classics: Pride & Prejudice. Jane Austen's dialogue is so perfect.
Last Book I Read: Last Book I finished was "I'm Not the New Me". I'll be done with "Good Grief" probably today. On deck: "Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell".
Surviving open auditions
Stood in line in the rain – total wait for 2 minutes of camera time: 4.5 hours. I had a great time talking to people in line and just people-waching.
I met someone who absolutely should be on the show—Staff Seargant Hazel B., who is petite, loud, funny, smart and tough. Imagine Rob C and Alicia having a love child… that’s Hazel. Her friend Hillbilly was kind enough to recon the auditions for us and tell us what not to do. Her tips:
- do not writhe on the floor
- don’t say you survived anything
- don’t drink before your audition
- don’t look at the floor and mumble
- if you’re a fat guy, don’t take your shirt off
- if you’re a fat girl, keep your tatoos to yourself.
We “early voted” several types of candidates out: anyone wearing high heels, anyone who complains about the rain while standing in line for Survivor, anyone who complains about standing up for 4 hours while standing in line for Survivor.
Lately I’d have a better chance of being hit by lightening that getting picked but I’m pretty sure the lightening thing wouldn’t be as fun.
See more progress on: Audition for Survivor
Friday, June 10, 2005
i guess...
http://www.petfinder.com/pet.cgi?action=2&pet=4320792
OK, yeah, I guess Fluffy loves people -- but if you ask me, Fluffy doesn't love cameras. Fluffy looks pissed, OK?
Have a great weekend everyone!
OK, yeah, I guess Fluffy loves people -- but if you ask me, Fluffy doesn't love cameras. Fluffy looks pissed, OK?
Have a great weekend everyone!
new blogger
Completing the Rock Lobster family of blogs is Miss Ellaneous, my friends' beautiful and precocious young daughter. Bogging for everyone!
survivor
So I think I'm going to the open audition for Survivor tomorrow. I'm thinking for my 2 minute video I'll do a cheesy commercial for -- myself.
Are you tired of stock characters? Have you gotten bored with the Survivor stud, the camp tramp and the fiesty fiftysomethings that can’t keep up physically? Then you need to meet (the yorkist rose)!
Rose is an intelligent, opinionated thirty-seven year old who has a sharp wit and a big mouth. She comes complete with an MBA, a fantastic work ethic, a husband who won’t miss her very much and a propensity to share her opinions with everyone.
Rose won’t be taking her clothes off for peanut butter and chocolate but she does come with a guarantee of at least 2 minutes of great TV time when she runs her mouth at a tribal council and gets voted off.
Lucky for you, Rose is available right now in the bonus size: normally in a 145 pound package, for a limited time only, she comes with an extra 15% free!
So call today for your exclusive Yorkist Rose Survivor contestant. Enjoy a 39-day trial and only pay if you’re completely satisfied! Dial xxx/xxx-xxxx—operators are waiting!
I like it.
Are you tired of stock characters? Have you gotten bored with the Survivor stud, the camp tramp and the fiesty fiftysomethings that can’t keep up physically? Then you need to meet (the yorkist rose)!
Rose is an intelligent, opinionated thirty-seven year old who has a sharp wit and a big mouth. She comes complete with an MBA, a fantastic work ethic, a husband who won’t miss her very much and a propensity to share her opinions with everyone.
Rose won’t be taking her clothes off for peanut butter and chocolate but she does come with a guarantee of at least 2 minutes of great TV time when she runs her mouth at a tribal council and gets voted off.
Lucky for you, Rose is available right now in the bonus size: normally in a 145 pound package, for a limited time only, she comes with an extra 15% free!
So call today for your exclusive Yorkist Rose Survivor contestant. Enjoy a 39-day trial and only pay if you’re completely satisfied! Dial xxx/xxx-xxxx—operators are waiting!
I like it.
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
dressed to kill
I'm not going to go there ... I'm not... OK, I already did but I'm not going again. I don't want to go back to feeling crappy and mean again. I want to be nice. I promise.
Maybe it's the outfit. I'm wearing a dress I thought I looked cute in 5 years ago. I put it on today out of laziness and when I got to work this morning I realized I was dressed like every other dumpy middle aged woman here. And I thought "If one person tells me I look cute in this dress who isn't a good looking man today then I know I look as washed-out, middle-aged, plain, low fashion-sense, Wal-Mart variety hausfrau as I feel. Before I hit the front door, an older middle-aged woman I work with calls out "cute dress" and I feel like ripping it off on the spot. This dress is making me homicidal. Much the same way that the wearing of light blue striped seersucker suits makes me want to choke the wearers.
Green plaid is rearranging my brain chemistry in some awful new way.
I'm even being mean to people I like today. I need to stop this mood right now before I start giving people fodder for one paragraph comments in my personnel report. Before I spoil my own day -- to hell with everyone else.
I'm stuck at work, what can I do to make myself be in a better mood? Help please. All I know to do is pray and have caffeine. And maybe some little chocolate donuts. Then I'll be too fat for this dress.
Maybe it's the outfit. I'm wearing a dress I thought I looked cute in 5 years ago. I put it on today out of laziness and when I got to work this morning I realized I was dressed like every other dumpy middle aged woman here. And I thought "If one person tells me I look cute in this dress who isn't a good looking man today then I know I look as washed-out, middle-aged, plain, low fashion-sense, Wal-Mart variety hausfrau as I feel. Before I hit the front door, an older middle-aged woman I work with calls out "cute dress" and I feel like ripping it off on the spot. This dress is making me homicidal. Much the same way that the wearing of light blue striped seersucker suits makes me want to choke the wearers.
Green plaid is rearranging my brain chemistry in some awful new way.
I'm even being mean to people I like today. I need to stop this mood right now before I start giving people fodder for one paragraph comments in my personnel report. Before I spoil my own day -- to hell with everyone else.
I'm stuck at work, what can I do to make myself be in a better mood? Help please. All I know to do is pray and have caffeine. And maybe some little chocolate donuts. Then I'll be too fat for this dress.
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
another quick thought
before I have to run off and work ...
Meet Ethan, who has come out to say hi and officially given me the most number of comments ever on a post. I've added Ethan's blog but for my sweet, conservative, easily-offended-by-language friends, this is not for you.
Well, must run and flesh out wierd work thoughts that came to me at 4:20 a.m. Let's hope there's something to it.
Meet Ethan, who has come out to say hi and officially given me the most number of comments ever on a post. I've added Ethan's blog but for my sweet, conservative, easily-offended-by-language friends, this is not for you.
Well, must run and flesh out wierd work thoughts that came to me at 4:20 a.m. Let's hope there's something to it.
batting 1,000
Hurrah! 1,000 hits on "Poetry in the Everyday" and it's not even the 8th yet.
My friend S called me at 10:15 p.m. to let me know and I was roundly chastised by the teenager for receiving a phone call after 9:30 p.m. But that's all right. It was worth it.
Now for my next trick... still thinking about trying out for "Survivor" on Saturday morning. Poll?
My friend S called me at 10:15 p.m. to let me know and I was roundly chastised by the teenager for receiving a phone call after 9:30 p.m. But that's all right. It was worth it.
Now for my next trick... still thinking about trying out for "Survivor" on Saturday morning. Poll?
Monday, June 06, 2005
bite-sized Monday morning
15 hits to go to hit 1,000 -- and only 2 days left. Is this a goofy little goal? Maybe I should have added it to my 43 Things.
Anyway.
Since the cat's finally out of the bag, I can now mention that T lost his job a few weeks back. He didn't actually lose it -- he knows right where it is. It just doesn't require his presence or pay him a salary any more. As with all job losses (and this is the 5th between us in the last 4 years) we are sure that God will provide. But I have to admit that I'm a little sick of having to keep falling back on God's good graces -- He's a busy guy and I hate to keep bothering Him.
So another piece of the puzzle snaps in to place -- at least you know now that I don't have all stupid reasons for being in a blue mood lately. Although I hold to what I said last week... little by little, the sun is coming out. I finally summoned up the energy to clean the house and I cooked 2 meals, a record!
I'll try to actually have a theme and something to say later in the day. Right now, I'm just doing my Monday thing. Anyone who knows me knows I prefer to take mornings in bite sized pieces.
Anyway.
Since the cat's finally out of the bag, I can now mention that T lost his job a few weeks back. He didn't actually lose it -- he knows right where it is. It just doesn't require his presence or pay him a salary any more. As with all job losses (and this is the 5th between us in the last 4 years) we are sure that God will provide. But I have to admit that I'm a little sick of having to keep falling back on God's good graces -- He's a busy guy and I hate to keep bothering Him.
So another piece of the puzzle snaps in to place -- at least you know now that I don't have all stupid reasons for being in a blue mood lately. Although I hold to what I said last week... little by little, the sun is coming out. I finally summoned up the energy to clean the house and I cooked 2 meals, a record!
I'll try to actually have a theme and something to say later in the day. Right now, I'm just doing my Monday thing. Anyone who knows me knows I prefer to take mornings in bite sized pieces.
Friday, June 03, 2005
here comes the sun
So I had an appointment yesterday -- one of those "appointments" we must not mention, you know, with a counselor.
It was wierd. I felt like I was sneaking around. When we talked, I just kind of removed from the story I was telling, like it was someone else's problems we were discussing. Except for the tell-tale 2 tears at the very end.
I asked my friend S last night at our once-monthly therapuetic Chinese dinner whether she thought the idea of just taking action to make myself feel better might actually, well, make me feel better. 'Cause I do. I mean, my old happiness seems to be rising again -- all this week, just a little more.
Dunno if I'll go back to the counselor but I do feel better than I have in a while, with the possible exception of that happy feeling I get after too much wine. Which we all know is not real or sustainable if I want to, you know, work and write and think and stuff.
Today I'm feeling positively inspired by Wendy McClure, who has been a favorite of mine since I found her outrageous WW cards from the 1970s about 2 years ago (see link on right). She is a blogger who wrote a book. Which I am now reading! How freaking fabulous is that?
Little darlin' the smiles returning to their faces
Little darlin' it seems like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
And I say it's all right
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes
-George Harrison
It was wierd. I felt like I was sneaking around. When we talked, I just kind of removed from the story I was telling, like it was someone else's problems we were discussing. Except for the tell-tale 2 tears at the very end.
I asked my friend S last night at our once-monthly therapuetic Chinese dinner whether she thought the idea of just taking action to make myself feel better might actually, well, make me feel better. 'Cause I do. I mean, my old happiness seems to be rising again -- all this week, just a little more.
Dunno if I'll go back to the counselor but I do feel better than I have in a while, with the possible exception of that happy feeling I get after too much wine. Which we all know is not real or sustainable if I want to, you know, work and write and think and stuff.
Today I'm feeling positively inspired by Wendy McClure, who has been a favorite of mine since I found her outrageous WW cards from the 1970s about 2 years ago (see link on right). She is a blogger who wrote a book. Which I am now reading! How freaking fabulous is that?
Little darlin' the smiles returning to their faces
Little darlin' it seems like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
And I say it's all right
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes
-George Harrison
Thursday, June 02, 2005
if only Kari knew...
How much I steal from her blog.
Have added links to "43 Things and "All Consuming". V Cool.
Have added links to "43 Things and "All Consuming". V Cool.
I fight authority, authority always wins
I think I think too much.
I don't even stop while sleeping. I sometimes slow way down while deeply absorbed in some task or a movie, sometimes a book. It's impossible to halt the deluge entirely. Wish I could because my thoughts are often not very enjoyable.
So here's what I'm thinking about today: our Wednesday night church service is discussing a teaching series by John Bevere, called "Under Cover". He's talking about subjecting yourself to the authority of God and other legitimate authority that comes in to your life. It so happens that I am really fighting everyone's authority right now. Anyone claiming to have authority over me right now might get told to screw off. So that's wrong. Can't tell God to screw off, can I? So I have to yield, which means I have to do things I don't feel like doing.
Later, it dawned on me that if I can't yield to it -- how can I ever wield it? When it's my turn, how can I handle authority responsibly if I didn't learn how to respect it in others? If I don't yield -- particularly to God's authority, well, -- I have nothing.
John Bevere says Satan can use the door of disobedience to get access to our lives and create chaos. I can see that. That door is already cracked in my life and I can see exactly what's going to happen if I don't get it shut. The face of chaos is looking right back at me.
I wonder what will happen? What am I really made of? Whose am I?
See, thinking again.
So I call up my preacher I say, "Give me strength for Round 5."
He said , "You don't need no strength, you need to grow up son."
I said, "Growing up leads to growing old and then to dying "
And dying to me don't sound like all that much fun.
- John Mellencamp, The Authority Song
I don't even stop while sleeping. I sometimes slow way down while deeply absorbed in some task or a movie, sometimes a book. It's impossible to halt the deluge entirely. Wish I could because my thoughts are often not very enjoyable.
So here's what I'm thinking about today: our Wednesday night church service is discussing a teaching series by John Bevere, called "Under Cover". He's talking about subjecting yourself to the authority of God and other legitimate authority that comes in to your life. It so happens that I am really fighting everyone's authority right now. Anyone claiming to have authority over me right now might get told to screw off. So that's wrong. Can't tell God to screw off, can I? So I have to yield, which means I have to do things I don't feel like doing.
Later, it dawned on me that if I can't yield to it -- how can I ever wield it? When it's my turn, how can I handle authority responsibly if I didn't learn how to respect it in others? If I don't yield -- particularly to God's authority, well, -- I have nothing.
John Bevere says Satan can use the door of disobedience to get access to our lives and create chaos. I can see that. That door is already cracked in my life and I can see exactly what's going to happen if I don't get it shut. The face of chaos is looking right back at me.
I wonder what will happen? What am I really made of? Whose am I?
See, thinking again.
So I call up my preacher I say, "Give me strength for Round 5."
He said , "You don't need no strength, you need to grow up son."
I said, "Growing up leads to growing old and then to dying "
And dying to me don't sound like all that much fun.
- John Mellencamp, The Authority Song
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
angry all the time
So as Suzanne pointed out in her comments to me on the last post, I seem a little angry about something. I'm not a very oblique person and I haven't been trying to hide my feelings in this blog. In fact, I often use this blog to try to sort them out.
So what am I angry about, you ask?
I'm angry because I'm not a better person
I'm angry because I can't make myself understood
I'm angry because I tolerate things I shouldn't and don't tolerate the stuff I should
I'm angry for not giving my decision to have a child more thought
I'm angry that I'm not more like my father, who is rarely angry
I'm angry because I'm a klutz
I'm angry because my house is in a constant state of disrepair
I'm angry that I got orange cheese on my white shirt
I'm angry that certain people don't like my cats
I'm angry that God isn't more obvious
I'm angry that love stops being fun and turns in to work
I'm angry that no one ever spells my name right
I'm angry that my boss keeps introducing me to people as "her assistant"
I'm angry that my hair is falling out
I'm angry that I've never been to Europe
I'm angry that other people who don't work as hard get more money
I'm angry that some people think all evangelicals are closed minded bigots
I'm angry that kids were cruel to me growing up
I'm angry that I feel so unfinished
I'm angry that I feel unlovable
Is that enough? I don't think it even comes close. I know I have some issues. I'm addressing them.
So what am I happy about?
That I still have friends
That God doesn't abandon me, even when I'm railing on him
That when my husband said he'd never leave he actually meant it
That I'm employed
That tomorrow is another day
That laughter is still possible
Believe it or not, I don't want to be angry all the time.
The angry man will defeat himself in battle as well as in life. - Samurai Maxim
So what am I angry about, you ask?
I'm angry because I'm not a better person
I'm angry because I can't make myself understood
I'm angry because I tolerate things I shouldn't and don't tolerate the stuff I should
I'm angry for not giving my decision to have a child more thought
I'm angry that I'm not more like my father, who is rarely angry
I'm angry because I'm a klutz
I'm angry because my house is in a constant state of disrepair
I'm angry that I got orange cheese on my white shirt
I'm angry that certain people don't like my cats
I'm angry that God isn't more obvious
I'm angry that love stops being fun and turns in to work
I'm angry that no one ever spells my name right
I'm angry that my boss keeps introducing me to people as "her assistant"
I'm angry that my hair is falling out
I'm angry that I've never been to Europe
I'm angry that other people who don't work as hard get more money
I'm angry that some people think all evangelicals are closed minded bigots
I'm angry that kids were cruel to me growing up
I'm angry that I feel so unfinished
I'm angry that I feel unlovable
Is that enough? I don't think it even comes close. I know I have some issues. I'm addressing them.
So what am I happy about?
That I still have friends
That God doesn't abandon me, even when I'm railing on him
That when my husband said he'd never leave he actually meant it
That I'm employed
That tomorrow is another day
That laughter is still possible
Believe it or not, I don't want to be angry all the time.
The angry man will defeat himself in battle as well as in life. - Samurai Maxim
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