Generation Gap

Honestly, this IM was so disturbing to me, I had to share. My baby sister's IMdentity has been changed, since she's underage. Mlle D'Or would be me. A mere 10 and a half years separates our ages... but the culture gap? Shocking. Just shocking.

K3: have you heard the song "right thurr"
mlledor: Gaaaahh I fricking HATE that song!!! AAAGgghhhhhH!!!!
K3: hahahaha. it's the song right now....me and my friedns LOVE it. plus my nick name nowadays is "kurr" and in the remix of right thurr trina says kurr as care and it's so awesome!!
mlledor: You are sick sick puppies. That is the worst song I have ever ever heard. And when I was your age, Vanilla Ice was popular, so what does that tell you?
K3: hahaha lol. yea you def listened to some weird ass shit
mlledor: you know, a "cur" is a mean dog, right?
K3: nope
mlledor: I never said I actually *listened* to Vanilla Ice. Just that he was on the radio when I was in HS
mlledor: PLEASE.
K3: hahah. shush
mlledor: How did you stray into rap music anyway? You live in the suburbs?
mlledor: It just seems wrong
K3: haha..lebo has gotten really ghetto
mlledor: What? What do you mean, "ghetto"? Like, on purpose?
K3: umm....
mlledor: Tell me that the boys don't wear their pants under their asses. Please, for the love of god, NO!
K3: a whole bunch of black kids go there now....and we have many wannbes
K3: haha. we have everything
mlledor: Oh my god. there's... diversity? Is that allowed?
K3: like you see every kinda dress
mlledor: But the whole pants under the ass thing started in the prison system.. so they would know who the... uh... bitches were.
K3: yea mom told me that!
mlledor: Don't they know that? It's like asking someone to assf**k you. Duh.
K3: and i think she said that to rob (new boyfriend) tonight actually. duh
mlledor: tell me he knows which side of his ass his pants belong on... please.
mlledor: Your silence makes me wonder. Is he an assboy?
K3: hahaha. he's rather skinny so they fall sometiems but usally there's up
mlledor: I'm looking at that picture of you and me on the couch... you look so sweet and innocent. What happened? ;-)
K3: hmm... i was like 4 kate
mlledor: You were like 2, Kerri. Because I stopped wearing that sweater when I was 13 - at the latest.
K3: good. it was ugly
mlledor: You're still only 7 in my mind. Leaning out the van window saying "Go ahead, talk to someone"
mlledor: Shit. that was 9 years ago. I'm getting old.
K3: yea. you're showing it too
K3: haha i'm joking
mlledor: thanks.
mlledor: you little Cur

Hoop Jumping

I just wonder sometimes... if, when I finally jump through all the flaming hoops the State Office of Education has aligned for me, will I even be able to find a school district to hire me?

I got a glowing reference letter from one of my instructors from the University of the Three Stooges and fully intend to send it and the others out to the one school district who requested more information (out of the 4 I sent the initial blitz to).

Blech... I think I'm hung over. It was worth it.

Loosey Goosey Losers

Okay, if I see one more "loose" (an adjective - not tightly fastened or secured...) in place of "lose" (a verb - to be unable to find, maintain, keep, or win) I just don't know what I will do. It's everywhere - blogs, forums, emails, letters, class papers, presentations. It's starting to make me question my sanity.

Similarly, these words are not the same and should not be used interchangeably:

where, were, we're
there, their, they're
to, too, two

But I would be totally satisfied if everyone on the Internet (and elsewhere) would just master the difference between "loose" and "lose" - the first one is pronounced "loos", the second is "looz". Say it with me.

I'll even give you some examples...

My pants are loose. I must be losing weight. (wishful thinking here on my part)

Don't lose your head, you might need it later. (for hat storage or something)

Be careful not to lose my keys. The fastener on the keychain is loose.

Okay, do you see the difference now? Will you try to get it right in the future? Ack. I realize that I can't make people care about stuff like this. Hmmm. Unless I had children and I could warp them into my own image. Hmmm. Yes, someday this may prove to be a viable solution to my grammatical ranting. Hmmm. Young minds to shape and twist. Just as my dear daddy did to me.

You'd think I would know better by now...

So after I typed up my last entry, I picked up the next book in my stack from the library, intending to start it before making dinner and returning the videos to Blockbuster. Yeah. Comme d'habitude, starting turned to finishing.

Damn you, Nora Roberts. I had no idea you were really that good a storyteller. Yes, I have a mild prejudice against romance novelists. Only because I've read some real crappy ones in the past, mind you. But seriously, I could not walk away from the characters or the story.

Compare this to the Tom Robbins books I've read in the last week... I was unable to finish Still Life with Woodpecker because I didn't care what happened to the characters. Hollow, hollow, hollow. Jitterbug Perfume was better, but it took awhile to grab me, and I skimmed most of the scenes with Wigg Whatshisname because it didn't interest me or seem very central to the story. There is such a thing as trying too hard. It leaves me cold.

My standards have gotten more stringent in the last year or two. Maybe it's because I need glasses... When I pick up a book, I have to ask, "Is this worth getting a headache over?" I'm generous... usually I'll give the author fifty pages to hook me. Usually. I have a John Updike novel my mother sent me that knocked me unconscious in the first five pages. Blech.

I dunno. Call me crazy (it's certainly been said before), but maybe I just prefer the classical approach. You know, like actually putting the story ahead of the style? Shocking, I know.

Interview, round one

Just got home from a job interview. Yes, an interview for a job. A job with a fairly new (6 months old) consulting company as their receptionist/admin assistant.

I passed round one with their office manager - round two with one of the partners will be either monday or tuesday of next week.

Pay is decent: $10/hr, though she indicated that it will probably go salary - in other words, no overtime. To compare for the area, receptionist positions usually start at $8/hr and office assistants around $8 or $9/hr. Low cost of living out here... The office is a five minute drive or a ten minute bus ride from my house. Atmosphere seems to be professional but relaxed. I wouldn't say no if they offer it to me. (Of course, there's not as much that I would say no to as there used to be.)

Also on the bright side of my life - I figured out my transportation issues for the wedding this weekend. I just have to take a train into Penn Station and then pick up the Hempstead Line of the Long Island Railroad out to Garden City where Jay will be picking me up even if he has to walk out of the rehearsal to do so.

Yeah.

Dress rehearsal... check!

Just finished a run through of hair, makeup, and costuming for next saturday's Long Island wedding. Though I'm still trying to decide between the black viscose wrap and the silver silk one. The silver matches the blue-violet/silvery tones in the dress better, but the black is softer and more comfortable. Decisions, decisions. Hah.

I finally figured, that if I have to be there, I'm going to look kick-ass fan-fricking-tastic. Ahem. If I do say so myself.

Jay will wish that we were not sharing our hotel room with another couple that night. Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha.

Rule Changing

I hate it when people are constantly changing the rules. In this case, I mean a situation where I've already set my expectations for one thing and then I'm told - "oh, well actually..."

See, there's this wedding next weekend. There's also a wedding this weekend - which I am missing because I couldn't afford both trips. I had intended to go to the earlier wedding because it's for two of Jay's college friends whom I have never met. HOWEVER, the bride from the later wedding lives here in Utah and begged me to come to her deal instead. I am a sucker for such things. So I changed my plans and bought tickets for next weekend.

And since then, it's been one thing after another. First of all, Jay's in this stupid wedding, so I won't get to hang out with him much. Almost all the other people I know are in the wedding, so I won't see much of them either. Two of the people I would have enjoyed hanging out with decided that they weren't going. Hmmm. This is going to be a church wedding with a full wedding mass. Who am I supposed to roll my eyes at? Argh.

But it gets better. Jay told me to fly into Newark instead of JFK because then he could pick me up and we could spend the night at his dad's place. Except that the groom just told him two weeks ago that the rehearsal is at the same time as my plane gets in. So I have to take the shuttle to JFK (in rush hour) and then pay for a taxi to wherever the group is at that point - probably the rehearsal dinner. I checked as soon as I found out, but it would cost me as much as the tickets cost to change airports. Did I mention that I am unemployed?

Oh, but wait. I won't be able to ride to the wedding or from the wedding to the reception with Jay either because the wedding party will be traveling by limo. Fan-frickin-tastic.

And yet, I'm still going. I almost backed out. Last night was not fun. Anyway. I'll try to be less cranky in my next post. Promise.

Aaaggghhh!!

I need a job!!!

How can I be over-qualified for half the jobs and under-qualified for the other half? How? Aaaaggghhh!!!

Maybe I just need to strip the references to education from my resume and send it out again. Frickin ^$%@&*^**#@(@^&%#!!!!! Aaaggghh!!!

Give me passion

For the Blogsnobbers out there, and for anyone else who lists a description of their blog with the purpose of having other people read it -- if you put the words "Bored" or "Boring" in your description, you can rest assured that I won't be wasting my time by clicking the link.

As a general rule - so general that it's practically cliché - people who are bored are boring. Granted, you can be unchallenged in your current environment: situationally bored, if you will. But if when you think of yourself one of the first five words that pops into your head is "bored", then you gots problems, honeybun.

I don't want to know what you did all day - unless you can spin some humor on it. I don't want to know what you ate for breakfast - unless it will make me want it, too. (Or gross me out, or make me laugh, anything but make me yawn.) I don't want to know what you are packing for your trip - unless it includes a blowup doll or the teddy bear your baby sister gave you when you went away to college.

Show me how you see the world. Show me what's funny, what's ridiculous, what's sad, stupid, borderline illegal, fricking wacked, etc. Tell me what you like to read. (I always need new authors to try.) What breaks your heart? What makes you roll your eyes? What do you hope for -- what gets you up in the morning? What do you hate more than anything else in your world? Who do you love?

I want to laugh at your funny stories, cry at your tragedies, roll my eyes at your foolish co-workers, or groan at your terrible jokes. (Which are, naturally, the best kind.) So what I'm saying here is... Passion, people. Give me passion!

Is that too much to ask?

Adding links

I've added a few more links to blogs that I've been reading. I hate to take them off once I've put them up, so usually I don't add them until I've read them consistently for at least a month.

I'm not overly concerned with increasing my own circulation, though it's fun to know that random people are reading my words, so I only add links as a way to make life easier for myself. It's much more convenient to use my page as a portal to the other blogs I read regularly than to just keep them bookmarked on the browser.

Okay, the headache is becoming overwhelming again. Time to hide in the dark.

Drugs aren't ALL bad

Normally I'm not a big fan of medication - barring the whole conception prevention variety - but I am drugged to the gills (for me) and just barely regaining functionality.

See, my allergies have attacked with a vengeance, so I broke down an splurged on some Claritin-D, aka My New Best Friend. I can breathe again. Through my nose and everything. Considering that my twice-broken nose doesn't work well under the best of circumstances, this is a Very Nice Thing.

And then this fricking heat has the migraines cranking... blinding pain and nausea. So I added some Exedrin Migraine, aka My Long Time Lover, to the mix and now I can actually see well enough to look at the computer again.

I really need to make an eye appointment and get new glasses. My last trip to the opthalmologist was back in 1997, so I am a wee bit overdue. But now that I have health insurance, I can go! Yay! So exciting.

So with all this added incentive to crawl into a dark, cool hole and die, my trip to the gym this morning should gain me extra weight-loss points, neh? If only.

Were you the 1000th visitor?

According to my sitemeter, I have had exactly one thousand visitors since I started in October. Well, maybe a few more than that because I didn't discover site meter until November, I think. Granted, most of those visits were for zero minutes and zero seconds, but still...

So back to the party - it was at this little corner bar in Clinton, New Jersey called Johnny's. We walked in through the front bar area - narrow, dark, smoky, with a few older, raggedy-looking, beer-gutted men sitting on the stools. The back room holds about a hundred people and was almost as dim as the bar. Decorations from the fifties for sure, and nothing more modern than the seventies. Horrible carafes of wine - Burgundy, Chablis, or White Zinfindel. The red tasted like vineger, the white like piss. The White Zin was drinkable, but only because it's supposed to be sickly sweet, right? No worse than a wine cooler, I suppose. And certainly better than the watery Budweiser that was the other choice.

The paid entertainment - a lounge singer-type in a periwinkle blue tux and a dyed black, slicked-back pompadour. He sang every song, including "The Electric Sliiiiiide". He had an okay, if totally lifeless voice which made the whole thing too too funny. I seriously could not stop laughing.

The unpaid entertainment - the Saturday night Elvis impersonator stopping by to pick up his check - Dottie, one of Jean's (grandma's) friends, singing show tunes - Dottie, grabbing Jay's butt and giving him a kiss - Jay telling me afterwards that Dottie had tried to "slip him the tongue" - one little old man harrassing everyone to join in the line dancing - Jay's Dad telling me that the man was a line-dancing instructor for the blind - the "white trash Italian" food - Jay's brother Forest showing up looking like Andy Gibb, but with a full beard - the parade of old ladies coming up to Jay and saying "Forest, no Jason! Jason!" and planting a kiss on him - Forest dancing with Jean to "Tequila!"

We spent the night at Jean and Lou's house (the grandparents). Jean collects cats. Not live ones, just figurines, stuffed animals, pictures, paintings, etc. Lou says, "Yeah, I live in a Cat House." Jay couldn't figure out why I was laughing until I explained that Cat House = uh, how to say? House of Ill-Repute. From the look on his face, I think a lot of his grandfather's jokes suddenly came clear.

Anyway, enough for now. I must eat lunch. Mmmm.

Home at LAST

Well, I'm home, out of the atrocious humidity of the East Coast, and mostly alive. However, I am becoming my mother. Yes, the genetic kiss of death strikes again!

I would hear myself saying things that were funny to me but clearly unfunny to EVERYONE ELSE IN THE ROOM... and then I would slap my own cheek (lightly) while they stared in confusion.

Actually, all in all, it was a lovely trip. I got to see friends I hadn't seen in three or four years as we made our whirlwind trip through New England - slept in a different bed the first five night of the trip - NJ at Jay's Dad's, NJ at Jay's Grandmother's, MA at Kev and Leann's, NH at a little B&B, and VT at Molly's (my college roomie's) family's camp for people with special needs. Just so you know, every single one of the Down's Syndrome camper can throw a frisbee more accurately than I can. I have what is politely referred to as a "trick" throw. Meaning that the trick is to guess where it's going to land...

Spent four nights at the family cabin in the Adirondacks... spent most of the time scratching at the mosquito and black fly bites. Grrrr. So, instead of being pasty white, I am now tan with red spots. Yes, I'm sexy.

Thankfully, everyone in Jay's immediate family is perfectly reasonable, if a little obsessed with organic foods... it's just some of the hangers-on who are scary. Scary, in this case, meaning too into exploring spirituality and wanting to talk about it all the time and taking themselves just a wee bit too seriously. In other words, they didn't think I was funny. Pshaw.

Anyway, I'm wiped from the flight and the traveling. I just want to shower the grime away and put some food in my belly and pass out. However - a few teasers about the party - which was fricking HILARIOUS:

New Jersey Italians - including an actual Cousin Vinny, bad wine, watery beer, a seventy year old line dancing instructor, a periwinkle blue tuxedo, and a performance from the Wedding Singer's competition.

On to the next reason for nervousness

So. Tomorrow morning Jay and I will get on a plane and fly to New Jersey. Where his entire family lives. His entire family whom I have not yet met. Correction - I've met his Dad and his brother on separate occasions when they visited Jay out here, but since that was in such a nice, controlled, on-my-turf situation, I don't feel like it counted. Sunday is Jay's grandmother's 40th wedding anniversary party. Everyone will be there. Yep.

Now, I feel mildly queasy about the whole thing, but maybe not for the reasons I expected to. First of all, I get the feeling that his mom his totally off her rocker. Just living in a world with a different set of rules and expectations than the rest of us... And his sister sounds like a bit of a new age fruit cake. But she's also only 21. Okay, so here's the thing -- I'm not worried that they won't like me. I mean, they're not the ones who have to sleep with me, are they? No. We live in Utah. They live in Jersey. Not going to affect my day-to-day existence one bit. However, I have this really bad habit of just, well, spitting things out. Calling 'em as I see 'em. Opening mouth, inserting foot. You get the idea.

The worry, therefore, is not that they won't like me, but that I won't like them and will manage to convey that to them. I think that could be bad. I mean, I don't usually enjoy upsetting crazy people who aren't related to me by blood.

This whole thing is, of course, aggravated by the fact that we have been together for two years and have not met each other's families except for a stray brother or sister here and there. So we've had time to hear all the evil stories without any real world context. Kind of strange now that I think about it. But that's what comes of dashing all over the country and picking up boys on the Internet.

In my defense, I moved here BEFORE hooking up online. Thanks.

Anyway, I'm going to the gym. Perhaps I will make more sense after sweating a bit, eh? One can only hope.

What is it really?

Jay and I were talking the other night about what makes Utah different from other places. Not the physical place itself, but what makes the people different... We're here in the capital, so it's not like it's 80% Mormon like the rest of the state. In fact, it's only about 30% LDS and 70% other.

The conversation arose from me being really sad again about not having friends here. I have lots of people I work with who I adore, but we never manage to be able to get together outside of work. Well, once I managed to have dinner with one of the people, but that's all. I've invited them to our apartment warming, and no one showed. I've been invited to go out for drinks, but then they'll forget to call me and let me know when and where -- AND THEN ask me why I didn't come. God help me.

And the people I've met through Jay's grad school friends aren't any better. I've made plans a couple times, only to be flaked out on at the last minute. A girl could get a complex here. Is it just that people don't understand the idea of doing what they say they are going to do? I feel like I'm in a little bubble of reality, surrounded by pod people. No, really.

Evidently, I'm not the only one with this problem. My syblings all suffer from friend-failure. Maybe our parental units raised us wrong - ha! Instilled in us the idea of loyalty and honesty and the idea of following through on things you say you are going to do! How dreadful! What were they thinking????

Sometimes I feel like I've totally invisible. Je suis phantome.

Why, I ask you...

No, really. Why is it that basic decapitations, dismemberments, stabbings, shootings, and all that nasty stuff that happens to characters in books (please, I'm not a total psycho) doesn't gross me out nearly as much as a description of someone getting their eyeball popped out? Why is the image of someone getting a thumb through the orb so absolutely grody to me? Yeeeeaaauck! Just thinking about it gives me the willies. I think I've been reading too much Laurell K. Hamilton again.

The trip up to the Tetons was a raging success. Weather was decent - rained only the first night - got in five miles of moderate hiking on Sunday and Monday... got a touch of sun but no burn. All in all, just what I needed.

Now to catch up with everyone else's blogs...

Clarifications

The poison ivy is drying up - thank god. My general mood and outlook on life has improved. Coincidence? I think not.

I'm heading up to the Tetons on Saturday instead of Friday. We invited a friend over for a blueberry pancake dinner celebration Friday night and I totally forgot about it. Mmmmm... blueberry pancakes.

Also, when I volunteer to coordinate group information, that means that the group members are supposed to supply me with said info prior to our having to turn in the outline. Coordination no equal creation. Thanks.

Paralysis with Insomnia

I know I'm never going to sleep tonight until I hash this out. I just finished a book Waltzing the Cat by Pam Houston, and that may be what set me off. Or maybe I was already off and that just brought it to my attention. I dunno. The character in the series of stories is like I would have been had I not met Jay here in Salt Lake.

I love him to death. It hurts to think about not being with him and honestly, he is at least a thousand times better than any other guy I have ever been with. And then there are the nights like this. Or maybe that should be the weeks like this.

Weeks when all I can think of is how much I want to go online and find some meaningless job in some breathtaking place where I can breathe and think and be creative without the cares of someone I love to make me feel self-conscious.

Sometimes choosing to be happy here is so hard.

I feel like my options are closing down with every choice I make, and yet I know that every choice also opens up options that didn't exist before. But sometimes I don't know what I want more -- love and family and a settled down sort of life, or adventure and creativity and the aloneness that sometimes come with that.

I think maybe that lately I've been too accepting of criticisms. I've forgotten that I don't really care if people think I'm rude because I don't want to play "let's say goodbye 14 times" before we actually leave. I've let myself believe I don't like to do some things just because I don't like to do those things in the same way that other people do. I think maybe I've lost sight just a little of who I am and what I need to be happy. So much so, that I can't think of what those things might be right now. I don't like that feeling.

So after Thursday night's class I'll be packing up the cooler and going to bed early so I can make an early start of it on Friday. Head up to Wyoming - Jackson Hole and the Grand Tetons. Might go as far as Yellowstone, but I don't think so. Take my journal and my sketchbook and my library books and see if I can't get myself straightened out.

Poison Ivy! Ack!

I went on a nice little hike Saturday... but I decided to go "exploring" and ended up on what was somewhat less than a trail. Oh, it started out looking very much like a trail. But it was all a lie. It was merely a former trail still in possession of some trail-like characteristics. Mostly it was overgrown and steep and parts of it had slid down the hill. Which means, of course, that I got to scramble through multitudes of plant life and sharp branches.

Naturally, I quite enjoyed it at the time. I mean, I like climbing up hills - especially when I am alone and no one can see how silly I look or hear how hard I'm breathing.

BUT (there's always a but) Sunday night I developed itchy red bumps on my left knee. Bug bites, I said, clearly in denial. By Monday those small red bumps had grown into bubbling blisters... POISON IVY! AGAIN!!

I had the damn stuff last year - 13 months ago exactly, if the records at the InstaCare clinic are to be believed. So, the clinic is $50 richer, the pharmacy has an extra $8.99, and I have a nine day prescription of prednisone. Again.

Fortunately, it's very effective. And until it stops itching, I will keep slathering on baking soda paste - the only thing that stops the itch. To hell with hydrocortizone.

About my Dad

Now, I've perhaps given a warped picture of my dad in past postings. Yes, he's an alcoholic from a long line of alcoholics. His dad was a old drunk who had suffered enough heartattacks and strokes to render him a confused and cranky old man by the time my dad was a young teenager. My grandfather was about fifty (we're not sure exactly what year he was born) when my dad was born in 1937 and from all accounts, looked more like 80. He died before I was born. Both my dad's parents were first generation Americans - I believe his father came over from Germany as a small boy - and neither had much in the way of education. So, in light of that, here are some things I find really impressive or humorous about my dad.

My dad pays the electric bill four months ahead because when he was a boy their bill was usually late and the electricity was often shut off before it was resolved.

There's a street corner in Pittsburgh with a heating grate. Everytime we pass it, my dad says "There's the grate that saved my life... or at least my toes... when I was a boy." He used to sell newspapers on the corner in the mornings before school.

In 1955, My dad was the first member of his family to finish high school. He joined the Coast Guard and then started working in 1958 for the same company he works for today. He started as a lab technician and the scientists he worked with encouraged him to go to college. Newly married (to his first wife) with a new baby, my dad worked full time and went to night school and got his bachelor's degree from the University of Pittsburgh. Later (after the divorce) he did his doctoral work at Princeton.

He met my mom when she was eighteen and he was 33. They married two years later -- he asked her seven times before she said yes. He used to sign his gifts to her "PB" for "persistent bastard". When I was little they told me it was for "persistent botherer".

My dad cries when he talks about sick children and people who have made sacrifices for the benefit of others. He got so choked up while visiting the American Cemetery at Omaha Beach with me, telling me about the movements of the troops to take the strategic points, that I started to cry.

My dad will always offer dessert when we eat out. He will never complain about how much we spend or what we order.

He will offer to loan us - his children - money for continuing our education. Then he will tell us not to pay it back.

Granted, we've had some ugly times in the past. But looking at the whole picture, I have to say I'm pretty darn impressed with what he's managed to accomplish - both for himself and for his children. He's been a good dad. I'm glad to have him.

Bend it Like Mia Hamm

Okay, US kicked Irish ass 5 to nil. Watching the team, it's easy to see why the US women's team has been continually kicking ass left and right. They don't hesitate, they run, they cover the entire field, they run some more, their passing is incredible, and they run faster and harder. And I at first thought it was kind of silly the way everyone got all hyped up when Mia Hamm came out on the field... but then I watched her handle the ball. Seriously impressive. As you can tell, my vocabulary fails me when it comes to soccer, but it was a damn good show. Damn good. We had 19,500 fans in attendance - the largest crowd to see the US women's team ever. Hopefully that means that we'll be able to draw the team back here for a few more games.

Oooh oooh oooh - it's Father's Day! Must call home!!!

Hold your horses

Grocery shopping, eating, and then going to the US women's soccer team vs. Ireland up at the U. Those are my plans for the evening.

But hey, at least I finally alphabetized my links, eh?

Hmmm...

Not really liking the new format for editing. This is an upgrade?

Anyway, a few updates:

I finished Lord of the Rings - whipped right through Return of the King and I'm still not sure why I stalled out for so long in the middle of The Two Towers. Having finished the last book, I'm really curious to see Peter Jackson's interpretation of the story. I will say that I agree with other comments that I had seen or heard complaining about Faramir in the movie. He was way cooler in the book. Shafted in the movie. But no one is perfect all the time, I suppose.

Okay - back to my siblings and their nicknames....

I can't really talk about Bubba without mentioning Spud. Bubba and Spud - my two sweet baby sisters. Honestly, I cannot remember how or where or why Kerri became Spud. Maybe because it sounded good with Bubba. Maybe there's some reference that I just missed. Who knows. However, Bubba (Hi Karlyn!) has a history.

Karlyn was one of those babies with big round eyes that don't miss a thing. Baby owls, if you will. Of course, with the big round eyes came big round cheeks that quite overcrowded her little mouth. Picture a living Cabbage Patch doll -- something she was commonly mistaken for in her first year on the planet. So all this staring and cheekage produced copious droolage. Natural for babies, of course, but it looked like she was constantly blowing spit bubbles. And so we started calling her Bubbles.

Ask any of my friends and they will tell you how much I love to play with people's names. (-licious is my current addition of choice... Brookalicious, Alilicious, Ninalicious... you get the idea) So Bubbles became Bubbalooie or Bubbaloo, eventually shortened to plain old Bubba. In fact, I don't think we called her anything except Bubba until she started pre-school. No wonder she's so odd.

Perhaps not as funny as AreOhBeeSeeOhDoubleYou, but the memory of her fat little cheeks and constant spit bubble beard make me giggle.

Just so you know

I would rather be writing here, but I have to do my stupid busywork homework. Grrraaaahhh!


Which I put off until the last minute. As usual.

Nicknames

We all had nicknames as kids - I mean, beyond Kate for Kathleen and Rob for Robert. While others let these addtional nicknames fall to the wayside as they get older, and presumably more "mature", the members of my family do no such thing. Hence, I am still occasionally called "Coffee" -- the closest pronuciation that one of my kindergarten friend's baby brother could give. (At the time I was normally called Kathy.) And my mother still springs "Katydid, yes, she did!" on me every once in a while.

Now, my brother had a whole slew of nicknames -- mostly ones bestowed by adults looking for child-safe alternatives to what they really wanted to call him. heh heh. So, he went from Baby Robby to Bubby Rubby (one of my personal favorites) to "AreOhBeeSeeOhDoubleYou" to Bertram Bunnykins to, well, god only knows what new ones he's racked up by now. I realize that "AreOhBeeSeeOhDoubleYou" requires explanation, so here goes...

My parents were off pretending to be childfree and my brother and I were home with our favoritist baby sitter, Theresa. We were coloring or pressing flowers or something creative and quiet. Bubby was less than enthralled (he was 5 and I was 7 at the time), so Theresa started playing with his little head.

T: What's your middle name, Robby?
R: Kyle (said with warped 5 year old pronuciation)
T: Cow?
R: Yeah, Kyle.
T: Want to know how to spell that?
R: Okay.
T: (writes out his name R O B C O W) Can you read that?
R: Are Oh Bee See Oh Double You.
T: Good job. So from now on we'll call you AreOhBeeSeeOhDoubleYou.

Is it any wonder that she was our favorite baby sitter?

Coming Next: Bubbalooie

Because I love to share...

And you just really wanted to know, didn't you?

Your Ultimate Purity Score Is...
Category	Your Score	Average
Self-Lovin'	63.3% Explored the pleasures of the flesh	63.9%
Shamelessness	73.8% It takes a couple of drinks	78.6%
Sex Drive	63.2% A fool for love, but not always	76.8%
Straightness	19.6% Knows the other body type like a map	43.4%
Gayness	78.6% Repressed, are we?	82.2%
Fucking Sick	89.4% Refreshingly normal	89.3%
You are 65.22% pure Average Score: 71.6%
Take The Ultimate Purity Test and see how you match up!

Not what I would have guessed

I would have gone for Manic Depressive... or anything containing the phrase "Delusions of Grandeur" I'm OCD about very few things, and anyone who has seen the inside of my apartment knows that chronic neatness will never be one of my problems.




obsessive compulsive



Which Personality Disorder Do You Have?
brought to you by Quizilla

See, with me, it's either feast or famine... No posts for a week, then 3 posts in one hour!!!

Why I love my momma

So Mumsy emails me the other day and writes that she has more money than she expected this month and that I should go out and buy some new clothes to the tune of about $150. (Because she doesn't want me to look like a bum when I meet Jay's ENtire family at the end of the month - 3 weeks!! Ack!)

How cool is that? Pretty darn cool.

And she reminded me that it hasn't really been 4 years since I've seen my brother - only 2 and a half. We hung out a bit at my cousin Helen's wedding back in October of 2000. And Helen just popped out the first grandchild of our generation - Hannah Corrine! Ohmigoodness.

So just remember... even when no one else loves you, your momma still does. ;-)

Phases

I'm been in a reading-not-writing phase this last week. I don't know why. Sometimes, just the thought of sitting down and trying to write something makes me twitch. Twitchy in a paralyzed sort of way. I can't quite explain it, because I don't quite understand it myself.

Like, the other day, I knew our landlady was outside working on a few things before she headed back up to Spokane, but instead of going out to say hello, I hid inside. Totally, irrational dread that she would come to the door and I would have to talk to her. Really bizarre.

And then last night I went to class and was all friendly and talkative and "pay-attention-to-me"ive. Sometimes I think there are two of me. Seriously. Serially.

Listening skills and other talents

When I tell you NOT to throw the half-eaten strawberry at me, DON'T FREAKIN' DO IT!!! And after you do anyway, then for godsakes STOP before you decide to try to remove the stain by sucking on it with the mouth that just ate the other stupid half of the strawberry. The stain. Which is now permanent. On my only pair of decent (read, non-sagging gym shorts) shorts. On the day after I have done our laundry. By myself. As I do every other week. And then, again for the love of all that is holy, don't tell me that I have a lot more to be worrying about than some silly stain on my shorts.

Just don't do it.

Also, when I get up to try to salvage the damage that you have just done to my sole pair of presentable shorts, DON'T slip into the nice comfy part of the couch which I have just vacated and THANK ME for "keeping it warm for you".

Just don't.

And if you do -- which you will, because you can't seem to freakin' help yourself -- then don't expect the love to be flowing quite so freely, eh?

Excuse me, I have some ass-kicking to attend to. &^%@*&*@(*&***!!!!!!

Also

Do publishers think that Americans are totally stupid? (Don't answer that.) I read a book yesterday - set in England - yet, the characters use dollars... Now I haven't been to Merry Old in a few years, but last I recall, they were resisting even a change to Euros. Blair and Bush may be buddy buddy, but I don't think the average Brit would go for the currency switch. The worst part? The author was British. The rest of the book was witty and clever... I can't bear to think that she was the one insulting my intelligence.

Anyway.

There are days

I'm not mentally ill, I'm just moody. According to my mother, that is. Lately I've been especially moody. Poor Jay. We've started joking about my evil twin. At least we're joking. Considering that I'm working on month two of not working at all, I think I'm fairly stable. I was even polite to the Jehovah's Witnesses who came to my door this morning... me with my hair uncombed, wearing my Squatter's Ale t-shirt, boxers, and leopard print slippers. Not to mention the giant zit between my eyebrows. Yeah, I'm sexy.

I put in another job application for an office assistant position at the U of U with the history department. Full time, presumably intelligent people to work around, discounts on tuition. I can see many benefits to the deal. Hopefully I'll hear something on that soon - they're supposed to contact applicants within 3 days to set up an interview.

In any case - time to get off my posterior and get moving for the day. And thank you to Nobby for the pep talk - I think I needed it.

Updating the links

Updated a few links... mostly because I was trying to figure out why the BlogSnob code that I have in my template is not showing up on my page anymore... Well, couldn't figure that out, but I weeded out a few links that are to dead sites and added a few to site I've started visiting.

If anyone knows what happened to The Homeless Guy, let me know. One day I clicked on the link and got an error message that the page doesn't exist. I did a Google search, but nothing pinged. Very odd. I hope nothing has happened to him.

The Wonderful World of Nobby Dobscrub has been inactive since the middle of April, but since his wife is preggers, I thought I would give him the benefit of the doubt and hope that he starts blogging again.

Anyway, nothing interesting here... Still no job, though I did put in a couple applications yesterday. I don't think the teaching thing is going to work out for the fall. Argh. With the No Child Left Behind Act -- which technically doesn't have to be complete for years yet -- schools don't want to hire teachers who don't have their certifications yet. So, honestly, I just don't know what I'm going to do. Crap.

Heard

So, still no word from the temp agency today about that interview last week. So I called them up and they told me that the position had been filled. Well, thanks for letting me know, eh? I asked if it were typical for them to have nothing for weeks on end. They said, Sometimes. It depends on your qualifications. My qualifications? I'm extremely competant with all the MS programs - Word, Excel, Powerpoint. I scored perfect on the filing and spelling. I type 52 words a minute. I'm equally proficient in numeric and alpha-numeric data entry... Jeez. No wonder they can't find anything for me.

Actually, I think it is the week in July that I will be out of town that is hurting me most. I think I may have to give up on the temp agencies and find something on my own. And I'm going to put my application in to the school districts. Right now.

Aaagghhhh!!!

The jury is still out

I signed up for Blogsnob the other day. Still not totally sure what I think, but I do have the link at the left. It's a really neat concept - linking randomly to other people's blogs. I've visited a couple interesting ones that might become a part of my Blog I Read links... especially since some of the ones I read have gone inactive or MIA.

The problem is that about half the sites I've connected to so far either don't have the code on their page to jump to the next site, or they are inactive. So, while it's a fun toy to play with, it needs some housecleaning.

Is it okay?

I'm reading the Lord of the Rings trilogy right now -- well, not RIGHT now, because I'm blogging, but you know what I mean. And anyway, I'm wondering if people would smack me around if I said I liked the movies better so far. I mean, the books are interesting -- lots more information on some things -- but I don't know if I could plow through them if I hadn't seen the movie to know that the story is really interesting.

Anyway, at least I'm finally reading them.

Still waiting to hear

Haven't heard from the temp agency yet about the job interview yesterday. It would just be nice to know what I'll be doing for the summer. And how I'm going to pay my bills and stuff.

However, I've been putting my time to good use. My new high score on Trogdor is 4326 on level 34. And I also went to the gym for a good hour and a half of cardio. I've decided to work only on cardio for a solid week before getting back to weights and strength work. I'm stronger, and leaner, I guess. But honestly, I would really like to be about 20 pounds lighter. Working at the hotel really screwed me up again. Too much crappy food, too many hours of standing around, too many hours that I could have been exercising or enjoying my life. I gained something like 15 pounds while I was working there... not to mention adding the pasty pallor of my skin or the mental and emotional weekly train wrecks.

So -- and I keep repeating this to myself -- not working is still better than working at the hotel. And if MissShaleyFawcett is still working there and still reading my blog - update me with the latest gossip, please! Just because I can't stand to be there, doesn't mean that I don't care about my people.

Okey dokey - ShowahTime

Thinking positive

This whole not working thing has been nice, but honestly, it's starting to drive me crazy. As in depressed. Money is part of it. But more than the financial aspects of unemployment, the not having any sort of schedule or interacting with anyone else during the day is getting to me.

Soooo. The good news is that I have an interview set up through one of the temp agencies for a job that would last all summer. 10am Mountain Time up near the U. Wish me luck.

More on Childhood

In class the other night, we somehow got on the subject of things children do that embarrass their parents and other adults around them. Which reminded me of the reason my mother finally demanded a second car so that she wouldn't have to ride the bus with us kids anymore.

She survived my little voice with only minimal embarrassment. "Mom," I whispered, pointing at a very large woman ahead of us on the bus. "That lady is fat." My mother, being younger than I am today, thought that perhaps ignoring me would work best. Poor Mom. Instead, thinking that she hadn't heard me, I said, louder, "MOM, that lady is FAT." Still no response from Mom. "MOM! THAT LADY IS REALLY FAT!!!" We got off at the next stop.

My brother's turn at embarrassing my dear mother came similarly, except he traded my fat lady for an elderly black gentleman and the phrase "Mom, his nose is really big!"

But mom, being the youngest of 4 and only girl, used to all sort of creative humiliation, weathered this surprisingly well. Though we did get off the bus sooner than planned a few times... No, it was not until my sister Karlyn that she decided our bus riding days were over.

See, Karlyn was a little more social than the rest of us, though she wasn't a big talker. She liked to walk around and look at stuff - under the seats, for instance. The end came on the day my mother discovered her chewing on a piece of moldy gum, peeled from the underside of one of the seats.

Yum yum. New car, here we come.

My dog Ruff Ruff

When I was about 4 years old and my brother was 2, I used to tie a string around his waist (we weren't allowed to tie stuff around our necks - mom's rule) and walk around the house with him - especially when my parents were entertaining. He would crawl on his hands and knees and bark like a dog. The adults thought this was kind of cute. When one of them would acknowledge us ("Oh, aren't you cute!") I would say, "This is my dog Ruff Ruff." Polite smiles. "He bites." Squeals of pain as "Ruff Ruff" dug his teeth into their ankles.

After a few parties like this we were given a new rule. Bite the guests, lose our teeth. heh heh. Fun while it lasted.

Not as useless as one might think...

Reconnected with another old school friend today. Classmates.com isn't completely the waste of time that some might think. What's funny about it is that I was just thinking of her the other day... lounging on my sofa and flashed back to one night trying to squeeze four or five of us on the wrap-around couch in the living room at her house. That couch was way more comfortable than my futon, of course... but anyway. Must have been 9th grade I think. That year was the one that probably ended up keeping me as far away from cliques and partying in high school as anything else did. I just couldn't take the drama.

Alrighty. I am being harrassed to get my a** to the gym so I can get home and we can EAT!!! Can't mess with a hungry belly, you know. hah!

Hip, hipster, hippilicious? Or something. Found this link off Sheila's page (Star Lines - link at left) One of the less annoying quizzes I've seen lately.


You are the Low-Fidelity All-Star. You were born
with your cool, and it's totally natural. You
run the gamut from Hipster Supreme (only they
can ingest as much coffee as you) to the geeky
hipster (Mario Kart, anyone?).


What Kind of Hipster Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Progress

Perhaps. I contacted the temp agency I worked for back when I first moved here 2 years ago. Turns out I'm still in their system so all I had to do was update my address and phone number and they will check it out and should call me back on Wednesday. I still haven't heard anything back from the other agency. At this point, I don't even really expect to.

Anywho - I should get over to the Gateway to pay my phone bill and perhaps stop by the hotel to say hello. After that... gym. Maybe biking if it doesn't start raining again. I know we need the rain, being in a desert and all, but this is getting silly. We've had almost a week of rainy days. Shocking for this part of the country.

Ah ha!

Well, I wrote in to Blogger Control and they fixed my little problem. Seems that when I updated my template, my code was corrupted. Why? Well, that's a bit of a mystery. But it's fixed now and I am happy once again.

Still haven't heard from the temp people yet. I'm going to call another agency today, I think. I can't keep going around spending money that I'm not making.

Still seeing blank space where my posts should be

And I pay for this service? Granted, not all that much when you break it down, but still... I am so less than amused by this. And the temp people still have not called me back. I'm unimpressed with them as well. If this keeps up, I may have to go to another agency. And we all know that's another pain in the ass I don't want to deal with. Must do something soon though or I'll be in deep doodoo. Crap. Grrrr.

What the heck?

I just added some new links to blogs I've started reading lately and now all my posts except the one I did today are *poof* GONE! Aaagghh! They're still here on my "edit your blog" page, but they aren't showing up on the regular one.

Not that it matters since I have so many readers... hah. Maybe it will come back on its own. Maybe.

Where does the time go?

Honestly, I feel like I just updated this yesterday, but it's been more than a week. Another week in which I did not work. Hopefully my temp agent will call be today about the rest of the week. I should have lied and told them that I would be here through the end of August instead of letting them know about that first week in July when I'll be in New Jersey.

So what have I been doing with all my freetime, you ask? Reading, visiting schools, going to the gym, hiking, and digging out my rusty arts and crafts skills to make a wedding present. Jay and I are putting together a tea box for our friends who are getting married at the end of July. I'm doing the box and all the containers for the inside; he's doing the tea and the recipes. Obviously, each of us is trying to stick with what we know. It's kind of fun, really.

Visitin'

I visited my current instructor's high school today. She's the principal of the alternative high school in one of the local districts. So awesome. Quite honestly, why do things the old fashioned way when the alternative seems like so much more fun for both the teachers and the students? Pshaw.

Tomorrow I'm heading the other direction - visiting the french teacher at the local Catholic high school. So... from alternative public school to conservative private school. Opposite ends of the spectrum, so to speak. I should figure out what questions I want to ask her. And maybe I should practice my French a bit more, as well. Sigh. My spoken is still decent. It's the written that has slipped. Sliiiiiippppppeddd way far away from where I need it to be. But I'm working on it.

Update

So, I survived our 14 mile bike ride on Sunday... felt great while we were out there but almost fell asleep in the middle of dinner. My body just quit. Splat. Kaput. And after a 30 minute nap I felt just fine. Except for my butt - I swear I could still feel the imprint of the seat until last night.

I'd be more chatty and stuff, but I have a major presentation to prepare for tomorrow's class on ESL assessment in schools. Interesting subject - a path I might explore someday soon.

Once a slacker...

Not always slacker. I haven't been online as much lately for two reasons. One, I'm working for the temp agency now. Thank goodness - no longer hemorrhaging money. And two, I've been spending most of my free time in the library (working on relearning all the french I've forgotten) or in the gym (trying to lose my pudgebaby before the end of July - wedding to go to and a dress I'd like to wear...).

So I'm a lot healthier, and I'm discovering that most of what I've lost is how to conjugate irregular verbs. Damn those irregular verbs.

Re the work situation... I am soooo glad this assignment only lasts 7 days. The guy I'm working with obviously doesn't usually work with other people. He's not mean or rude or anything. Quite the contrary - he won't shut up and he repeats himself constantly. And I can't ignore him or he will just keep on repeating himself until I respond. The work itself is easy. I open the packages from the credit unions, sort their paperwork to make sure we have all the correct reports and the data tape, find the file from the previous year, enter all the data into the computer, fax a confirmation of receipt to the appropriate credit union, and load the tape into the computer downstairs. This takes about half of a half of my concentration. My little friend, however, seems to think this is terribly complex and keeps asking me if I am okay. He doesn't want to be mean, doesn't want to be a slavedriver, doesn't want to overwhelm me...

That said, it is kind of nice to do something mindless for a little while. No phones ringing that I have to answer, no angry people asking to talk to me, no employees whining for help with every little thing... yeah, I need a break from that sort of thing.

Evidentally, a few more people are leaving the hotel. Hah. Key people dropping out every which way. Ran into one of the room service guys at the liquor store right before his shift. Picking up a bottle of Stoli... to drink at work? I didn't ask. The front desk's interdepartmental relations have broken down quite a bit since I've been gone, from what I hear. Kind of sad, but kind of gratifying, too. heh heh.

Alrighty - going biking with Jay. Hopefully I'll add some color to my pale and pasty white legs. Eeek.

Thank you, kerriberri

Just a public thank you to my babiest sister who bailed me out of my homework problem yesterday. I had to interview 3 highschool students about crucial issues in their lives. Not yet being a teacher, I don't have ready access to teenagers without being creepy, so I was sort of stressing over that part of the assignment -- because naturally I hadn't even looked at it until the day before it was due (because I was out of town, granted). And then I remembered! I know high school students! Or a high school student. Ms. Kerri Kathryn, younger sister extraordinaire.

She and her nice little boyfriend the Gregmeister tolerated my questions, even though I was apparently interrupting a belching contest... you go, girl!

So what do high school kids worry about in my old neighborhood? 1. Getting fat 2. Failing their classes 3. the war

Not so different from what some of my friends worry about.

The end of the break

Got back last night from my weekend away - my postponed Grand Canyon trip. For the most part, I was a lazy bum. I didn't hike to the bottom because I knew I'd be in massive pain driving home and also because most of the people I knew at Phantom are no longer there. So I drove down to Flagstaff for a day and walked along the rim and found a nice sunny spot to sit and read and banish the paleness of my face and arms. All in all, a worthwhile trip for me.

But now I must get down to business. In other words - I need to be working again. The two weeks off was lovely, but if I let myself drift any longer, I might not be able to get back on track as easily. Blech.

So... enough screwing around in front of the computer today. I must get cleaned up and presentable and call the temp people and go to the bank and pay for my next class and... and... and. Staying here in front of the computer sounds like a better idea though. In the short run, of course.

Unfortunately, I'm off to be responsible. Gah.

Duh

So I've been really pissy with Jay lately and I haven't really understood why I'm so irritated with him. Yeah, with me not working right now we're just seeing a lot more of each other, and that takes some adjustment... but it's more than that. So what is it?

Now that I don't have the distractions of hating my job, I realize how stuck I feel here. Like, if it were only me I had to consider, I would totally be in the car heading either down to AZ or back the hell East. But I'm tied here because Jay has three more years until he finishes his PhD. Mind you, staying with him here was not even a choice I had to consider twice. I think, very simply, that he is stuck with me for a very very very long long long time.

So pretty much, I'm going to have to find a way to get over this. I mean, when I get pissy and start bitching about how everything in our lives is about him, I think I need to take a step back and explain that us being in Utah is about him. That, yes, I chose to be here. So, no, I don't have a right to complain. But unfortunately, we can't always control how we feel and if I let this resentment keep building it's going to seriously f**k us up. And that would be very very very baaaad.

Solutions? Hmmm. I think I need to build more of a life here for myself besides Jay and school. I need friends who are my friends first, instead of a bunch of people who I like but who knew me as Jay's girlfriend before they knew my name. I need to do more than read and study and work out and eat and sleep. I'm restless and I'm starting to bore myself.

However, I have gotten in some quality reading time. Wanna see?

In the last week:
J.D. Robb - Naked in Death, Glory in Death, and Immortal in Death
Jennifer Crusie - Manhunting and Welcome to Temptation
Holly Lisle - The Wreck of Heaven
Katherine Neville - The Eight
Laurell K. Hamilton - Caress of Twilight

In the two weeks before that, I'd gotten through:

Dan Simmons's Hyperion Series, Barbara Kingsolver's Prodigal Summer, Jennifer Crusie's Fast Women, and Janet Evanovich's Stephanie Plum novels 1 through 5. Those I read toally out of order, of course - picked up the newest one Hard Eight and worked my way backwards from there. Grandma cracks me up.

So I think I need to cut back on the reading and start paying attention to the world around me again. Just maybe.

Unemployed

And so happy. At least for now. If I have more trouble than anticipated with the temping thing, maybe then I won't be so happy. But for now... bliss.

Had to postpone the GC trip for a week -- too much school stuff to get done before next Thursday to be traipsing off south. Alas. I imagine the place will still be there next week, though.

On the subject of Daves...

So I was reading this blog, Styrofoamkitty, in which the author mentions poor Dave experiences. So rings a bell. As I thought about the Daves I have known - only one in the biblical sense, swear - and every single one of them is kind of screwy. One cheated on all his girlfriends (one of whom was my friend and another who was my xcountry ski instructor... hello, awkward situation?), another is super anal (yet adorable in a I'd never go there sort of way) and conservative and just all around uptight and pissed off, another is with this chick who makes me crazy so there must be something wrong with him... just haven't put my finger on it yet.

But the main Dave - the David I obsessed over for way too long (like 4 years, okay?) - I have to say that though he really did a number on me, I learned a hell of a lot from the experience. I learned that being "in love" makes you stupid and blind and willing to overlook a lot of stuff that shouldn't be overlooked. I learned that a guy who doesn't like himself much won't appreciate the fact that you like him a lot. (Though, I confess, I made this mistake again briefly.) I learned not to believe everything that a guy told me when he was in the throws of yet another life crisis. I learned that sometimes it doesn't matter how much you love a person - sometimes it's not going to work out anyway. Most importantly, I learned that if I'm not good at being happy on my own, then I'm pretty well f**ked. Because being miserable unless someone else is around and paying attention to you SUCKS. SUCKS. SUCKS. It's a sucky way to live.

And that, folks, is why I think wedding ceremonies that emphasize putting someone else's needs and wants ahead of your own all the time is freaking stupid and a total recipe for disaster. So not smart.

And with that thought, I am going to go check on my highlights before the fumes make me pass out. It's time to be blonder again. Ha!

Still here

I've just been in a reading phase - 4 books a week. It would be more, but I have other things to do, like working, showering, talking to Jay... I also have a lot to say but my mind is feeling mushy and I can't quite put it all together.

I have two more shifts remaining at the hotel. Tonight and Wednesday night. Friday morning I'm going to head down to the Grand Canyon to visit with the remnants of my old crew down there and also to get in some good highway therapy. Honestly, driving along at 65+ mph for extended periods of time relaxes me big time. If the weather cooperates, I may even take the hike down to Phantom. Phantom Ranch, that is. At the bottom of the Canyon.

I still don't have a job. I turned down the receptionist position at Youth Care because I don't think I really want to hop back into a full time job right away. I don't think the 9-5 gig would go well with student teaching in the fall either.

Alrighty - I really must run - too many errands overdue. BUT I intend to speak soon on the subject of the name Dave and why men named Dave or David should be avoided in most cases... it's an old story, but still valid in this day and age. Ha.

Another reason to stay...in SLC

Not at the hotel! Did you think I'd lost my mind? Hah!

No, I was cruising blogs, and one of the blogs I read links to Neil Gaiman's blog. Since he was just in Salt Lake last weekend, I thought I would check it out and see how he liked the new biblio-palace. Evidently, he found it way cool. His description is pretty accurate. If you're interested click on Neil Gaiman's Blog and scroll down to the March 8th entries.

It is a damn sweet library and I can't wait to have more free time so I can establish my own fortress on the second floor. I mean, an art gallery, a 4 storey stacked fire place, coffee shop, comic store, ethernet pugs ins on the desks...

I still think this is weird state, but they give good library

I just want out!

Why in the world did I say I would stay for 3 weeks to help with training? Why? What in the world was I thinking? Aaagghhh!!! Every day I want to kill her more. Her being that creature who they tell me is my boss but who can't possibly be because she is so ignorant.

She doesn't ask questions, she makes demands. She doesn't pass on information, but tells me that I am the source of the problem because I don't communicate with her. She has great plans for the front desk, but they'll never come to pass because no one respects her.

On the up side... 12 more shifts and it will no longer be my problem.

Also - I got a great birthday package from the family this week. Girl Scout cookies, chocolates from my other family in France (host family from 1996 study abroad), a couple books, a teddy bear, some comfy clothes, and the cutest picture of me and my baby sister - she must be about 2 years old which would make me about 12 or 13. She's leaning on me as we watch TV and her little baby belly's hanging out and she sucking her thumb. Oddly enough, her other hand is not on her belly button, which is how she spent most of her toddler years: one thumb in her mouth with her index finger curled over her nose and the other index finger stuck in her belly button.

Such a cute baby she was.

But thank goodness for my baby sisters. Got to know the reality of babies early. Still want them, just not in so much of a hurry, if you know what I mean.

Bleccchhh

I feel miserable. My head is stuffed. I'm coughing. And I get to go to work tonight and explain to people why we have no rooms for them since the sales department oversold us by 34 rooms.

14 more shifts and I am rid of the place. Consensus says that the front desk will crumble without me. I disagree, but I think it's going to go back to super high turnover rate and our service levels will plummet. Boom. Crash.

But that's not my concern any more. Thank god.

I did it!

I put in my two weeks notice this morning. Scary, since I don't have anything lined up yet. But it felt sooooo good. Soooo good. I can't explain how good it felt. But it felt really good. hee hee!

Words fail me

I'm so disappointed with the way things went at work today, I can't even wrap my mind around it. I gave my list of things that I was hearing and seeing at work with the new "boss" to HR yesterday. She promised to get back to me before the end of the day. Well... she came in after I did and left before I did, so she never did get back to me.

Today when I came in to work, I was dragged into a "little meeting" with J&J and HR. J1 let me know that it's not my place to tell Joyce what her job is, nor how she should do it. I should support her because she needs me to. The problem is... and I think this might be the key to it... J2 (the pseudoboss) does not listen. I told her that when I let her know about a problem, I don't want to hear 50 excuses as to why that problem is not taken care of, or why it exists in the first place - I only want to hear "thanks, I'll take care of it". I think she might have almost understood what I was talking about.

However, I'm still keeping an eye out for other jobs. I sent out one resume/cover letter for a job listed in the paper. I haven't heard back, but it's only been 2 days.

I'm not going to jump without something better to jump to, though. I'm still at the point where I can be picky about my next job. Things aren't that bad. I suppose. I just feel very disrespected and dismissed. I'm extremely disappointed with today's "meeting". I acted as I thought was right. I only regret that I forgot that HR works for the company and not for the employees. Oops. Won't make that mistake again.

Anyway. Bedtime.

In my family... we don't say "bipolar", we say "moody".

I come from a long line of moody people. Shall we say.

I've been scraping bottom for a couple weeks now and I finally seem to have rebounded to a manic high. Which can be as scary as the lows, because at least during the lows I manage to keep a solid grip on who I am and what I'm doing here. Here, as in "on the planet Earth". The manic highs seem to have an eerie dissociative property to them. However, I'm going to combat them this time by going to the mall, mailing my Karlyn's birthday present (only a week late!!), and spending more money. Yay!

Thank god there's only 9 days left in this month. I don't think I could survive many more. And still, I'm revving here... by brain chemistry is fun-ky. Funky. But I'm okay with that. Today.

Make a fricking decision!!! Okay. Let me just say that I appreciate working with different personality types and alternative thinkers and whatnot through my school stuff. What I do not appreciate is working with people who cannot make a single stupid decision without second and third and fourth guessing themselves. As soon as I think we've reached a consensus -- about where and when to meet for our group work -- I'll get another email or voice mail saying, "oh, well, or we could do this instead - let me know!" And then, I get a listing of 4 different phone numbers where she might be when I get a chance to try to track her down. Does she not understand how this is driving me crazy?? Does she have so little faith in herself or does she just drink too much coffee. No - she drinks lattes. Must be dairy poisoning.

I know she understands that she's pissing me off, but she doesn't understand why. Like last time we met, she had left me a voicemail message saying that since no one had emailed her back that night about our meeting (we had agreed on a time and place at the last class) she was so tired that she would assume that we were not meeting. When did I get this message? At 1:30am after I got home from work. We were to meet at 9am. Tired? Tired? Fuck, woman. I'll show you tired. So when she wasn't there at 9:10, we called her at home. Fortunately, she showed 5 minutes later. Tired as I was, I suppose I was less than gracious and/or coherent. So later that night she sent me an "apology" email -- the kind where she writes that she's sorry but does it in such a way that shows that she thinks I'm the one who's being unreasonable. Yeah. Classic passive-agressive Junior High.

Got a problem. Tell me about it. I'm a good listener, but I won't hold your hand. I expect that sort of behavior from children and teenagers. Once you make it to your mid-late twenties, I expect a certain level of maturity. Which is probably my first problem, eh? How many 40 year olds do I work with who haven't mastered those basic abilities? You just don't want to know.

Maybe I should change the name of this page to "Kate Rants and Raves". Ah well. I'm in a better mood just for writing it down. And that's why I put this thing together in the first place. Ciao!

How close is too close? I'm always suspicious of people who are too dependent on one other person for everything. I suppose that's related to my basic mistrust of human beings (feeling cynical today, bear with me). Friendships or "relationships" that are the primary focus in a person's life just seem like set-ups for imminent disappointment. I mean, who can sustain that kind of one-on-one devotion to another person? I can't imagine. I don't care how compatible two people are, one person cannot fulfill every need of another. People are far too complex for that to work.

What guides my thoughts in this direction? Two male friends of mine -- roommates who have lived together for a year now -- are in a sort of "breakup" situation. After being constant companions, cooking for each other, providing intelligent conversation and musical accompaniment, one has begun to branch out his interests... interests involving women. The other has admitted that he feels a jealousy and sense of abandonment. As a clarification, the guys are "just" friends - no real sexual element to the friendship. I'm reminded of my relationship with my college roommate. She and I were thrown together by chance freshman year and chose to stick together for the rest of the time. We spent nearly all of our free time together, talking long into the night, sharing books and music and opinions. This until well into our sophomore year. Then, I started an outside relationship with a member of the opposite sex. And worse, I left for a term abroad, leaving her with a stranger for a roommate. When I returned, things had changed -- I wasn't sure how to fix them, and honestly, I didn't notice for a while, because I was tied up with boys and exploring that shtuff...hmmm. Anyway, I have to wonder if she felt betrayed by that defection of mine -- ending our days of close companionship by introducing an outside element. I don't know for sure. I've never really asked. Maybe I don't feel like I have that right anymore.

There's always a sense of loss to a major change in a relationship - whether a traditional sort of breakup, or "just" an alteration to a close friendship. I certainly don't have any solutions.

On a brighter note, I did do some writing work today -- put down some world-building on the rules of magic for my book which will need to be rewritten. I've decided that the whole thing will probably benefit from a total rewrite versus my just opening the existing files and making alterations. With the cut and paste option, it's hard not to abuse it.

Woman on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown Yes, the English translation of a Spanish movie, but also my state of mind. Actually, I think I'm on the upswing again -- the breakdown came yesterday morning in the HR office at work. To my credit, I did manage to get one complete sentence out before bursting into tears. Ah well - I made my needs known and I'm getting results, even if it did come about in a totally undignified manner.

I have decided that I don't have enough brain power left over after writing papers for class and writing here and writing at work... or at least not enough writing power... so I bought a small sketch diary and will take out my creative urges in doodling. I need to be doing *something* creative or I will lose what remains of my mind.

And now, I will turn my creativity to dreaming all night. Or at least until 6:10am when my alarm will go off.

Two in one week? Gasp! I'm quite shocked, finding myself back here before a week has passed. Well... maybe not shocked after all. I've been itching to get to writing again. This, despite the fact that I have absolutely no time to do so. Unless I quit reading 3 books a week and all those webblogs and the ebay listings and the Sunday Comics and crossword puzzle... but we all know that's just not going to happen. So what I think I will do is start sketching out what I want to write, so that when I do force myself to take some time, I will not just stare blankly at the screen for hours on end.

Deceptively simple little plan. Sigh. I'd like to make it work, but I still haven't gotten around to digging up my OS 9 so I can access all my writing from the last 3 years. Which, by the way, includes a 125,000 word fantasy novel and 30,000 words on a... I guess suspense thriller is the best catagory for it, but since it is mine it includes a wee smidge of slapstick and plain old in-your-face absurdity. I miss them, but I am stuck.

More thoughts on the new boss: My old boss says he thinks she will last 3 weeks. I have a slightly varying opinion. I think she will last two months in her current state and then will either mellow the frik out or will run screaming from our evident mediocrity. I still don't like her. I'm not sure it's possible to like her. No one else in the building can stand her. I know this because they all told me. I do'nt even have to ask. They come up, ask "So, what you you think of your new boss?" and I say, "I don't know yet, but..." and they just jump right in with what they think. And it ain't good. No sireebob. I talked to Jen, my boss's boss, about my doubts. She said that "J" had a lot of energy and we'd milk it for as long as possible. I think that Jen may have doubts as well. I understand that there weren't a lot of qualified applicants, so it may have been a case of chosing the lesser of many evils.

All I have to say is - We Shall See.

First Impressions: So... met the new boss yesterday. First impressions? I came in the office, she failed to make eye contact and did not say hello. Second impression? She called me Katie. I am never Katie. Okay, well, for maybe 3 people I am Katie, but they get special dispensations because they know me and they are just plain silly enough to be able to get away with it. People who do not know me never get to call me Katie. It's simply not done. Also, when I corrected her, she did not apologize.

This does not bode well. Perhaps I'm being difficult because I don't like the idea of working for a woman. Does that seem odd? Most of my upper level bosses are women, and that's fine. But to work directly for a woman doesn't sit well with me. Why is that? Maybe because men are generally more straightforward than women. Women bosses tend to have something to prove, whereas men tend to be more comfortable with the idea that they have a right to be in charge. I have a lot of people tell me that I think and act more like a man than a woman at work... and at other things, I guess. Why? I don't play games. I always say what I think. I don't take anything too personally... (Except someone disrespecting me by calling me by the diminutive without explicit permission).

I'm not overly interested in a power struggle, and I feel like the new boss lady sees me as a threat to whatever new things she wants to introduce. I'm not, I just want and deserve some respect because I do know my way around the place and I've outlasted 5 other co-managers. I've also trained 3 of those managers, and will no doubt be training the two new ones. Ignoring me and then getting my name wrong is not going to make that more pleasant for either of us.

To give her the benefit of the doubt, it was her first day -- she'd met about 50 other people and toured the property all day before she finally met me. I can understand if she were too tired or burnt to focus by that time. So we'll see how she does on her third impression. Can't wait. Right.

Ahhhhh, Vino: Drinking and Americans: Admittedly, my observations these days are a wee bit wonky due to the fact that I live in freaking Mormon Central where most of the inhabitants don't drink at all. The rest of the non-Mormons drink a bit more than normal as a consequence... so I either see people stonecoldsober/on a sugar high from too much soda, or slobbering, puking drunk. Have they none of them heard of a Happy Medium????? Oops, I'm ranting again...

Part of the reason that we American Heathens do have only a glass of wine with dinner in restaurants instead of a full bottle is, 1: the drive home (leave home without the car, what?) 2: increasing penalties for drinking and driving 3: the fact that restaurants here more than double the price of the bottle... my favorite Chianti is $19 in store ($15 back east) and $40-50/bottle in the restaurant (when they have it) 4: wine lists around here are...hmmm... the word pathetic comes to mind.

When I travelled in Italy, we wouldn't have dreamed of not having a bottle of the house wine with dinner. But there, the house wine is actually drinkable, tasty even, rather than a vinegary melange of bitter grape juice. Excuse me while I float back to memories of warm nights passed outside some restaurant near the campo... food, wine, espresso, and marlboro lights. Back when I used to smoke, that is. Cappucino only in the morning, but 1pm counts if you've only just gotten out of bed. Espresso and a cigarette for lunch, a little... nap... in the afternoon, an evening walk, and then browsing the restaurants for dinner. In the evenings, sometimes a foray to the corner pub for a Chimay blue. Damn but that was an awesome two weeks.

Anyway... the folks back East tend to have more european patterns when it comes to eating and drinking... well, at least to drinking. Here in the West, especially California, the health patrol seems to have gotten the best of the general population's tendencies toward vice, and so... while many of us have well-stocked liquor cabinets and wine cellars at home, drinking in public has become less common.

Damn, and now I'm craving a smoke... American Spirit was my brand right before I quit 2 years ago... that or Bali Shag roll-em yourselves. Evil, evil memories. Mmmmmmm.

What is it about weddings... that seems to make me sick? Actually, I'm sure it's just the fact that I have to fly and I pick something up from the recycled air on the planes, but honestly, I could do without. Devan's wedding was beautiful and I wouldn't have missed it for the world, of course. They got married up on stage at the Detroit Opera House -- where Elizabeth works -- and not a single mention of God in their ceremony. Not that I particularly object to God, but after the last wedding we went to, where the bride and groom seemed to take a back seat to the big guy... well, let's just say I believe in balance.

Anyway, I'm now coughing, hacking, miserably not healthy. And to make things more fun, while I was gone the other assistant manager was fired for sexual harrassment -- a totally BS charge made by two women, one of whom was on the verge of being fired, and the other of whom is one of those people desperately in need of attention. Yes, Darren has a tendency to make little comments, calling people sweetheart and even, yes, "lovemuffin", but honestly, anyone who can't see how ridiculous it is to interpret that anyway except that he's got the maturity level of a five year old... I think it's sick what happened. Sick sick sick sick sick.

I, and one of the other women I work with have experienced real, damaging sexual harrassment. This didn't even come close. This was a case of two women who had a grudge against a man, taking comments that were never intended on a sexual level to bring him down whle elevating themselves. I'm so pissed it almost makes me forget the pounding, cough headache I have.

Alrighty, I'm going to focus on happier things now before I make myself worse.

I feel like a moose is standing on my shoulders... blech

Trying not to laugh to hard... So, Jay and I have our computers in the same room, usually we aren't here at the same time because only mine is hooked up to the internet. However, right now, he's uploading digital photos onto his computer... talking to both the camera and the computer while doing so. Threatening them, actually, it seems. Hee hee.

In less amusing news - I feel like crap. And I get to go to Detroit for the weekend because my best bud from high school is getting hitched. Crazyboy. Which reminds me, I really must make hotel arrangements.

Okay, um... going now before Mr. Talkstohimself looks over my shoulder..

Ta!

HAPPY NEW YEAR! I guess. Mine was fairly lame -- worked from 3pm yesterday until 1am this morning, came home and had a nice Bombay and tonic (heavy on the Bombay) and drifted into another night of restless sleep. I woke up crosswise on my bed, the covers twisted and tangled around my legs. I can't wait until Jay gets home so I can have a peaceful night's sleep. Well, and a few other things, too, I suppose. hee hee.

I'm not quite sure how I'm going to finish everything I have to do for class tomorrow night... "wasting" time here probably isn't helping. Alright, alright, I'm going, I'm getting to work, quit nagging me. Blech.

On becoming a Blog Slacker: I started this Blog with the best of intentions, meaning to write a little every day. And then came the Great Move (across town) and the hours sucked away into school and suddenly, I'm lucky if I remember to write once a week much less once a day. Alas.

In any case, my father's visit went fairly well. I'm bloated and kind of woozy, but that's what I get for eating out with him every night. One night we stopped in a California Pizza Kitchen before going to see The Gangs of New York (wouldn't recommend it, but Dad loved it). Usually, if I have wine with dinner, I'll order a glass. Dad ordered a bottle of Chardonnay. As we finished our pizzas and I went for some lovely, lovely tiramisu, Father Dearest decided that we needed more wine. A whole second bottle of wine, that is. Come to think of it, maybe the reason I didn't enjoy the film was that I was so bloated with food and drink that I was concentrating more on not throwing up... hmmm. No, I think the movie was just that disjointed and my being intoxamicated had little to do with it.

I did see Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers with the old man and THAT was AWESOME. I'll have to drag Jay to see it when he gets home.

And with that thought, I am going to brush my teeth, wash my face, and fall into bed where I will delude myself that I can read just one chapter before putting the book down and going to sleep. Sigh. I know I'm just going to forget and read the last 150 pages.

Merry Christmas! My dad just arrived from Pittsburgh...and I'm at work until midnight. Not that I'm entirely sure that isn't the preferable situation, mind you. I'm tired and he's hyper. He also thinks it's weird that we don't have a TV. Or rather, that we have a TV but don't have cable so the only thing it's good for is watching movies with the VCR. I pointed him to the radio, the CD's the couch and my reading blanket (microfleece....mmmmm). There's 2 Dos Equis in the fridge and some good cheese to go with bread or crackers. He should be just fine until I can get out of here.

Weeney boy called from Jersey... they got a ton of snow, so he's all excited. Well good for him, I guess. He got what he wanted for Christmas.

Grown Men or Little Girls? I honestly can't decide which they are -- my co-workers. I have never seen such whining and drama from people over the age of 10 and not in possession of two X chromosomes. What's the problem? Did their mommas never teach them the phrase "Suck it up and deal?" I mean honestly!

We work with people... lots of different people, both employees and guests. Now, odds are you're going to run into some real winners in that line of work -- people who are wrapped up in their own drama, people who get off on manipulating other people, people who carry their homelife crises to work with them... etc... Two rules to survive in this industry: 1. Don't take anything personally. 2. Never lose your sense of humor. If you forget these rules, you will go insane. Very simple.

So I guess I'll have to remember them myself next time my 35 year old co-manager pulls out with his "she said I did this, but I didn't. I didn't! She's lying. Waaa waaa waaa." (Of course she's lying, she fricking INsane and everyone knows it. What's the big surprise?!?!)

Okay - more water, less sugar. Repeat. Dehydration has killed my higher brain functions. Sigh.

Oh shite: I just goofed. I bought our flight tickets for Detroit and I got them for the wrong date. Crap crap crap crap crap. I have us coming back a day later than I intended. And of course, the ticket receipt says in huge bold print : TICKETS NON-REFUNDABLE. I wonder if that means that they are non-changeable, also.

I swear I put January 12th as the return date. I swear. I hate things like this that make me doubt my own brain function. Sigh.

I'll have to check with Jay and see if that will work or if I have to call them up and beg them to change my return date.

Aaarrgh.

Oh yeah, one more thing: It's my Daddy's 65 birthday! Congrats on living this long, Daddy-O. I called to wish him a Happy Birthday today. Maybe he'll remember. Not sure though because he an d my fraternal unit were in the midst of beer consumption and Steeler game observation. Kerri can be my witness though--she's the one who answered the phone.

AAAAAAAAAhhhhhChoooooooo!!! The rotten fools who lived in the apartment before us clearly left behind a large portion of their pet in the form of wads of cat hair stuck to the carpet and the blinds. Those bastards. It's not that I don't like cats, mind you. It's the steroid treatments I need afterward that get to me. Cat hair used to just make me itchy and sniffly, but in the last 4 years I've developed a more extreme reaction. Now I break out in huge welty hives that only go away after 6 days on a steroid. Yum yum yum.

I went to Fred Meyer today to exchange the broken bookshelves we bought last Sunday for unbroken ones and also picked up a curtain rod for the front window. (I hate the way it looks with just the white blinds there.) Before I'm able to set that up, however, we need to clean the whole window--blinds, sill, glass, and screen. And I'm useless at it because I can't stop sneezing and I have that awful itchiness in my ears and throat. So I'm sitting here waiting for Jay to finish, but by the time he does I'll probably have to leave for work. Splendid.

And wonderboy's bugging me about when we'll go hiking or something again. How to explain? Gee, hon, maybe when I have more than 15 minutes to rub together at a time. Maybe when our place is livable enough that I don't feel like I'm living in a shoebox. How about then? Yeah, how about then.

okey dokey pokeys, time for me to work on transforming myself from sunday bum to mostly professional manager girl. It's quite the shocking procecss, I assure you.

It's finally happened: I'm slightly mad Ach, well, maybe not just slightly, eh? Finally, after a 5 hour ORDEAL, we have internet access at the new apartment. Took for frickin' ever. The poor installer guy was about to shoot himself. Strangely, I found it all quite funny--especially when he had his ladder balanced on the roof of a shed to lean across to the filter box on the powerline pole with the neighbor's dogs barking at him. Heh heh. But I do have a sicko sense of humor, I suppose.

So...interesting day at work. Creed is in town for their concert on the 12th and their crew is all staying at our hotel. They, of course, are not staying with us, because we are not glitzy enough for them. Their tour manager is a hoot though. One guy got all pissy with me because his room wasn't ready yet (we were sold out last night and they arrived 2 hours before our check in time). As he walks away to sit down, the tour manager says "Yeah, sorry about him. He's new."

Honestly, I've never had a group check in so smoothly with so few complaints. So here's to the roadies and the tour managers and the video technicians, et al. Creed may be a bunch of big babies, but their support staff ROCKS.

Now back to our regularly scheduled programming....zzzzzzzzz

People who do not work: Or people who have never held a real job. Yes, that's right. I'm talking about professional grad students. People who get paid to go to school. People who have, other than summer jobs, never held a nine-to-five kind of employment. Not that I work 9 to 5... more like 7 to 5 or 3 to midnight. But anyway.

I go with Jay, who also happens to be one of the above, to a dinner party at one of our friend's houses. And she is *our* friend, not just Jay's. However, I don't know everyone who was there and even the ones I do know have similar reactions. I'm sure they don't even realize it, don't intentionally put that tone in their voice. That tone = pity mixed with condescension.

"So, does work still suck? And I hear you've gone back to school... the University of Phoenix...oh, I see. Sooooo, how *is* that?"


First of all, all work sucks at one point. That doesn't mean it sucks every day or that it even sucks most of the time. But anything you *have* to go to whether you want to be doing it or not, sucks at some point or another. Yes, I'm going to school, but for godssakes, don't talk to me like I'm starting kindergarten instead of a Masters program. And I'll tell you how it is: It sucks up most of the "free" time I have. It puts me in with people who clearly had an undergraduate education less rigorous than my own. It pairs me with people who are only doing the program so they can move up on the salary scale--people totally lacking in enthusiasm and occasionally, integrity. BUT, it also puts me a lot closer to the career of my choice than I was just a few months ago. So I'm exhausted and cranky, but I'm doing what I need to do. Just don't be surprised if I don't want to talk about it. OKAY?!?!? OH - and yes, I work at a hotel. And yes, I have a BA from an ivyleague school. Want to ask me why one more time?!?! Because I really never get tired of explaining it to you freaking stuffed academics, really I don't.

Gosh, but I'm hostile lately. Must be hormones. Yeah, that's it.