No really...get me a muzzle.

We have an uber cranky receptionist where I work. She is one of those people that maybe has lived a really tough life. She doesn't realize that her happiness, despite whatever has happened to her, is her own responsibility. She is angry all the time, complains about anything, is selfish, greedy, and just unhappy. She has comments about my appearance EVERY day. For example, one day I wore a cute outfit that was a skirt and cute top. I wore open toed sandals. She was appalled that I was wearing that at work because I had NO PANTY HOSE ON. She didn't call me a whore, but she definitely danced around that insinuation.

She saps my strength and most days I try to do anything I can to avoid even walking by her desk.

Anyway, she has been out the past two weeks dealing with recuperating from back surgery. It has been marvelous. Really, it's amazing at how much more positive the energy is in our office.

We have a new temp until cranky-pants returns. She is 20. Her name is Sandra. She is pretty. She wears cute clothes, but looks clean and like a good kid.

The other day, I was walking by her desk and saw that she was on the internet. At the time, I didn't know what she was looking at, but it was a black background and I could make out the picture of a very attractive woman in a very provocative pose. You know the one…it's the picture of the women that are on myspace and when you add them as friends they just want to sell you hair growth products.

Because I try to be funny and joke, I said, "You know, Sandra…we aren't allowed to look at porn at work."

She stammered and said that it wasn't porn. I looked closer and saw that it was a myspace page. So instead of saying something like "Hey, I have one of those too!" I said, "You may call that myspace, but it clearly is porn." And she was all "No! It's myspace!" And because I was still trying to be funny, I was all "Look at that picture - she's pretty much only wearing a bra - it's totally porn!" Now, although my take on the picture was accurate, I was just trying to make her laugh. Maybe to say something about how her friend does kind of look like that…but really, she's a hooker with a heart of gold.

Instead, she scrolled down to where I could see other pictures in a flash player. Other pictures of HER…with her family. DOH!

I just walked away. Because really? You can't repair that situation. I hopped away on one foot as the other one was lodged firmly in my mouth.

Yesterday I said something funny and NON-offensive and she laughed. I took this opportunity to say that I am a dumb-ass who likes to joke around a lot. If I ever say anything to upset her, I hope that she knows that I'm just kidding and that I'm just trying to be funny. And that I apologized for anything I've ever said or would say to make her feel uncomfortable. She was all, "um…okay."

I think I made up for it though…because I walked by her desk later and asked someone who was by her desk how I was going to be able to breathe with no air. Sandra giggled, while the older lady was very confused.

See...I may be able to put my foot completely in my mouth, but I can also make some pop culture reference to redeem myself too.

Muzzle

A guy at work recently got a puppy.

I'm *really* trying not to tell him what to do with it, how to train it, etc. But it's really difficult.

Like, he wants to leave this three month old puppy in the backyard. He's against crating because he feels it's mean and plus - won't he get bored? Um YEAH. That's when he eats your couch or creates massive holes in the backyard.

But recently, the dog ran away (he dug out and broke part of the fence) and was found by someone who took it to the vet on the tag on the collar. (Side note: my co-worker was all, 'Cool. We don't even need a tag for it! If people find him, they'll just take him to the vet and then we'll pick him up from there!') From there, they feel he picked up kennel cough. Because it was too loud (the coughing) on Tuesday night, they decided they'd leave him outside Tuesday night because they couldn't sleep.

(sigh)

I'm REALLY trying to keep my mouth shut. Because in reality, what they are doing is not going to kill it. I mean, dogs have been outside for centuries and have been just fine.

But it's a three month old PUPPY who digs, gets into trouble and could choke or eat just about anything back there. That's why they need supervision. This puppy? It's a Newfoundland. So he's going to be big. I asked my co-worker if they were going to do any training and he was all, 'Nah. I'm sure it'll be fine. He only jumps a little now and besides, it's cute.'

I thought my head was going to explode.

A new low

Today I recited some words from a VERY dorky* rap song with a friend of mine.

When I stopped, he continued. When he stopped, I continued. I didn't continue because I could hear the snickers from the cubes around me at work.

Really, even the people that mocked Vanilla Ice were probably rolling over in their graves, shaking their ghost heads at the two dorkiest white people ever.

I was laughing my butt off when I got off the phone though. Seriously, it was silly, delightfully funny, and reminded me that shaving lines in your eyebrows was a poor fashion trend.

Word to your mother.

*it was not dorky at the time. It was cool.

Something's gotta' give...

This song, "Something's Gotta' Give" by LeAnn Rimes is my new favorite sad, pathetic I'm-not-even-dating-someone-so-I'll-probably-grow-old- and-live-alone-with-90-thousand-cats song.

I was going to post the video here, but it just may be one of the stupidest videos I've seen. And I can't be liking that.

Anyway, this song has finally replaced "Someone Else's Star" by Bryan White. The Bryan White song has held the aforementioned title since my senior year in high school, so it's probably about time that it be de-throned.

(sigh)

A new distraction

This morning, while planting daisies in my front area (I would call it a yard, but it's too small) with my mom, I met my neighbor, her brother, and his two friends.

Her brother? So. Very. Cute. Has dimples, grey eyes (okay, they *might* be hazel) and really seemed to like my dog.

Now, I'm not one of those crazy people that thinks that if my dog likes a guy that he's "The One." Because my dog also thinks that liking her bum is a great thing. BUT I do like it when a guy seems to really like my dog.

Anyway, in case you're wondering, he lives in Vail and is just visiting her sister for the weekend. He does have a name, but I was so busy trying to brush the smudge of dirt from my face that I didn't catch it.

Was he as funny as the guy from Reno? No. That could be because he was very hungover or it could be because it is impossible.

But I have to move on at some point, right?

(sigh)

Well, at least having him around here from time to time will keep me from looking like complete ass when I walk outside my house. :)

Ringing sexy back...

I now have a new phone and a new cell phone service.

After much debate, I decided to switch to AT&T and decided NOT to get an iPhone. Honestly, what I need is a phone - I don't use it to check email, to play mp3s, to manage any tasks, or to send or receive pictures/media. SO I decided that spending that much money on a cool phone (albeit a cool phone) was not the right choice right now.

The phone that I ended up with is this one...
It may not look like it from the picture above, but it is one hot phone!

I love that it's a slider (so I'm not likely to call you by accident while singing in the car) style.

It's so sexy... (I know...you're asking yourself, "How sexy IS it?")

It is so sexy that I refuse to be surprised if I get one night stand proposals after showing it to people.

I'm thinking of dangling it from a choker around my neck the next time I go out on the town.

What? Too much? :)

Happy birthday, Lizard-breath! :)

Today is my little sister's birthday - she is 28.

(sigh) LOOK HOW CUTE SHE IS! :) :) :)



Happy birthday to the best little sister I could've asked for.

Alright, she's more than just another beautiful person. Did you know that she's going to graduate at the top of her class in December with her nursing degree? Yeah, well it's true. AND she's that girl...who's had a lot of tough things happen to her and she still manages to see the best in anyone.

She rocks. I want to be more like her when I grow up.

More freckles than before...

I spent an hour and fifteen minutes today riding around REI.

I found a way better route than the one before. It goes down a much less busy street.

I didn't bike as far as I wanted and I didn't bike the whole time (the new route, though less busy, still had that VERY steep hill that I just couldn't pedal up the whole way). I've been taking my wheel off and DRIVING to REI or another spot just to bike - mostly because I was feeling inadequate with going on six lane streets and blaring horns. It's worked okay, but taking apart my bike to get it in and out of the car has not been great and I haven't biked as often as I had planned because of the hassle. In fact, due to many personal issues, I haven't biked in weeks.

Today I woke up and was feeling unease. With what, I'm still not sure, but it was unease. I blogged, I ate lunch, I cleaned around the house and still couldn't shake what my friend calls 'The Crazy' and I knew that talking about it wouldn't really help...so I decided to sweat it out.

And I am so happy I did.

I got a bike because I wanted it to be a stress-reliever. And today I was so thankful that I had that. I had a ton more reasons of why I shouldn't have gone - it was 2:30 and pretty hot outside. But I knew that that is what I needed.

The wind was at my back the way down to Broadway so the way back was a bear at times, but it was great! :)

I came back home with about 50 more freckles than what I had before and a slightly saner mind.

Go me.

Not because I got back on the bike. Not because I biked 11 miles (by rough calculation via Google Maps). Not because I found a new route. Not even because I seemed to have mastered the grip shifts.

But because I listened to my body and my spirit. I didn't bury the feelings of inadequacy, of loss, of doubt, and of frustration. I acknowledged them for what they were, and did something healthy with my body instead of beating my mind up all day long.

Oprah would be proud. :)

Happy birthday, Jon! :)

Happy birthday to my favorite Jon. :)

Jon, the guy who squashed a roach in my room when he didn't even know me just because I was terrified.

The guy who let me cry on his shoulder and his pillow whenever I needed to - the guy who I could show up at his door, start crying and say that I needed a hug and always gave me what I needed.

The guy who when my dad forgot my birthday my freshman year, not once but twice, put up a HUGE banner that stated it was my birthday across the water fountain just to make me feel loved.

Jon, the guy who has been the big brother I never had.

There is not a thing I wouldn't do for you...including falling out your passenger door drunk and breaking your boyfriend's heirloom napkin ring.

All kidding aside, I hope you know how much you always will mean to me. Thanks for helping me learn that trusting people is a good thing, for being my mentor, my friend. For seeing me as I really am and loving me anyway.

I love you...here's to 32 being your best year yet.

Guilty...

I'm struggling.

Have you ever heard yourself say something to a friend and as the words come out of your mouth you're thinking, 'Wow. I am really sounding crazy here. This is not healthy.' and you still keep talking as if you're not thinking that?

I had that experience on Friday night while talking to my friends Matt and Kelly.

I feel guilty for the stupidest things. And honestly, I'm not entirely sure where that came from.

When I was a kid, I was (by my parent's and sisters accounts) a horrible child. Like I was all strong willed and apparently NO babysitters wanted to babysit if I was going to be there too. Really. I must've been a horrible little child. And unfortunately, I've been reminded of this period of my life that I don't even remember so many times that it's a constant record playing over and over in the background of my head. I'm sure there were good things about me as a child, like when I was sleeping, but I'm not aware of many of them. Because I don't remember those times (I don't even remember thinking those things that made me act like a brat) I feel like I've had to pay for someone else's mistakes and I have to be twice as good, twice as responsible, twice as kind - one for me, and one for the devil child that reigned supreme.

So I lived in black and white. I babysat for a friend's siblings who were absolute hellions as a way of paying back the babysitters I don't even remember. I made sure that I said what I thought I should, made sure to try to live the way my parents wanted me to, didn't break any rules, and didn't take anything from anyone without paying them back. My friends from high school can probably name several instances where this was not true, but I remember feeling like this is something that I had to do and be at all times. It's no wonder I cracked from time to time and behaved like the kid I was.

I've let go of some of those things...but the one thing I've held onto is not taking anything for free. I mean, I feel REALLY guilty for it. I've never been completely comfortable with receiving gifts from friends even on my birthday, and if I have something that needs fixing for my house I'd rather hire a contractor to charge me 500 times what it would really cost than picking up the phone and asking for help. It's not true across the board (my best friend Kelly is making a quilt for me and I love that idea versus feeling guilty about it...but I made sure to pay for all of the materials and plan on sending her something really nice in return) but for the most part, it holds true.

So Friday night I'm literally having an argument with Matt and Kelly (did they even know?) about how I can't take things for free. I feel horrible that Matt is going to drive up to my place after a really hard day of work and climb downstairs into my smelly (no, I have NO idea what that smell is) basement and try to figure out what is wrong with a light receptacle. He's going to figure it out and (gasp!) maybe even fix it. And as the words, "no, no...I wouldn't want you to do that" are coming out of my mouth I'm thinking, 'What the HELL is wrong with you? This guy clearly is okay with doing it or he wouldn't offer...you don't really want to pay lots of money for a guy to come by and do it why won't you just say okay?' So I did. I said okay. Meanwhile, I'm thinking immediately of what I can do to pay him back. Do I get them a gift card to someplace special? Kelly literally owns a catering company so it's not like I'm going to make them dinner (unless they really like mac and cheese and hot dogs or peanut butter and jelly sandwiches). UGH.

I'm not posting this so either one of them will tell me to not get them something.

I'm posting this so I can realize just how silly this is. I love doing things for people without them asking and without receiving anything in return. It's that I can't understand why people would offer to do things for me without expecting anything in return. Don't they know I was a bad kid? And I know...it is crazy. So I've got to get over it. I've got to let it go and I've got to move on. It's not healthy and it's no way to live my life. And if I ever meet someone who doesn't mind the crazy that is me and actually thinks they'd like to be saddled with me for the rest of my life and we have little crazy kids of our own, I don't want to pass this on to them.

(sigh)

Tough Times

Okay, people. If you've noticed that my take on things have been absent or that I haven't been blogging as regularly, that's because you are right and I haven't wanted to face it.

At times, I want to blog about so many things at once...so many things are bouncing around in my head that I think I have almost a writer's block on how or what to write. Other times, I'm afraid of putting what I am thinking down onto my blog because: 1) I don't want to read everyone's comments about how crazy I am and b) then it will be down in print and I can't take it back.

I've been following dooce.com like a lot. And a HUGE part of me thinks that I would love to have something close to what she has. I see the good stuff in what she does and I love to laugh at her website. This morning I sat and watched her interview on Utah NOW (really? Is there so much going on in Utah that we have to capitalize NOW?). She's one brave cookie because she does write about miscarriages, about her daughter, and about tough things in life. And she writes and talks about the therapeutic part of writing...which is why I started this thing in the first place.

So, I'm telling myself that it doesn't matter if someone writes "BORING" as a comment to a blog I've posted, that it doesn't matter if someone's interest in reading my blog or me wanes because of what I put, and that it doesn't matter if people think that what I'm writing about is so weird that they back away from the computer slowly.

What matters is that I use it for what I want to use it for...and if you like it and want to come along for the ride, then great. I'm happy to skootch over and make room.

Now that's what I call random...

This morning, on my way to work, I put my iPod on random.

The songs are what came on (and no, I'm not making this up - this is not exactly the best example of the cool songs that are on my iPod):

"Hungry Like A Wolf" Duran Duran
"No Hay Igual" Nelly Furtado
"Touch of Grey" Grateful Dead *
"Goodnight and Thank you" Madonna/Antonio Banderas from the Evita Soundtrack
"Gangsta's Paradise" Coolio**
"Shut Up and Let Me Go" The Ting-Tings
"I'm My Own Grandpa" The Muppets ***
"Girlfriend" Avril Lavigne
"Crazy Love (Acoustic)" Van Morrison and Bob Dylan
"Dead Parrot Sketch" Monty Python ***
"Too Much Stereo" The Urge
"Declaration of Dependence" Steven Curtis Chapman

* This would be the only Grateful Dead song I can stand. I think it has something to do with the fact that they're dead in the video and a dog runs around with the dummer's bone in his mouth. I do like the little stoned bear that is their mascot though (he makes me want to eat gummy bears - which might be the same effect they have on stoners). Sorry, Beej.

** I didn't even know that I had this song on my iPod. Michelle Pfieffer would be proud. And if she hadn't had so much plastic surgery, I'm sure we could tell that she'd be smiling.

*** I had to skip past these this morning. 7 AM is too early to hear songs about weird potential incest from socks or a sketch about dead parrots.

My new favorite artist...

...is actually one of my older favorite artists.

Jamie Lidell. He's the guy from the Target commercial ("A Little Bit More").

Oh, and my new favorite song is "Little Bit of Feel Good" it is groovy and just swell.

My friend, the phoenix

So I've got a friend. And for you silly people in my life, pretend that I just smirked and rolled my eyes if you were thinking of retorting "Just one friend?"

Anyway, this friend has done the best job she could by being the best mom she could. I can't pretend that I know what it's like being a parent. It seems like a tough job - lots of judgement from others, lots of angst from your kids, and lots of advice from people who have no business giving you advice. Oh, and it never ends. Anyway, I'm not saying that she's the perfect mom, because there IS no perfect mom.

My friend is gifted - she writes beautifully (to my recollection, she always has) and has a lovely interest in taking pictures. And I mean of EVERYTHING. It's no surprise then, that she would clearly document the good and the troubled times in her life.

She described a feeling several times SO well in her blog that it almost took my breath away it hurt so badly. I felt horrible that she felt that way - and was also slightly scared/awed that she had somehow crawled in MY mind and was able to read the very dark thoughts that are sometimes there. She wrote about it so completely that it reminded me a side of myself I hate (and yes, I mean hate). The side that I try to keep hidden for fear that if someone actually saw that side of me they would run away screaming. I give her kudos (or mad props for you kids out there) for having the courage to bare her soul on her blog.

Unfortunately, she is also going through a tough time where she's had to hide her blog and has stopped posting almost completely for fear that someone would use those words against her. Her hiding those thoughts didn't happen quickly enough. And the the pictures and words have been used against her in her custody battle of her kids.

The thing is...I'm mad.

I'm not terribly mad at him. I can understand that he wants them as much as she wants them. Hell, when I look at their Easter pictures or pictures of them sleeping, I want them. :) I guess I'm mad at the situation. I'm mad that he's using her talent at describing something that I hope we all feel at one time or another to hurt her. And that makes me so very sad.

Can you imagine if the words that you said to your husband/wife late at night - the whispers of insecurities that SHOULD be safe in a marriage were used against you later to take away the people that matter to you? Those things should be sacred. Those things should be safe.

I know that people hurt in different ways. And I do know that he is fighting for what he feels is right - it's the way that he's doing it that is hurtful.

I'm mad. I'm mad because I can't do a thing to help the situation. I feel helpless that I have to watch my friend grow and find the strength that she's had all along to fight this. Perhaps that's best...that she realize what strength she has by herself. The picture that keeps coming to mind is of a pheonix.

I hope she doesn't mind that I posted about this. Those that read my blog and know her already know all of this. Those that don't know her have either stopped reading by now or are hoping that I'll make some poop joke/reference to lighten the mood of this blog.

It's just been in my mind and on my heart since I read her email this morning.

If you would, friends, say a prayer or hold a good thought that this tough time passes quickly? That her kids are taken care of in the best way and placed in the best situation? The judge has yet to render his verdict and I do believe in the power of prayer and positive thought. I literally hope and pray that he makes the right decision both for the long term and the short term - whatever that may be.

Oh, and POOP.

Look-a-likes

I'm not saying I *do* look like this guy, but let's just say with my new hair cut, I could look like him quite easily.

I'd hyphenate it

Last night I dreamed that I went to Boston to go see my friend Eliseo play in the Boston Symphony (which, I believe he still does). I only got to see the rehearsal, but he was playing every part... like he'd move from playing the tympani to the oboe. He was good...but it was STRANGE.

Anyway, leaving there, I happened to bump into McDreamy (Patrick Dempsey - only I didn't remember his real name in my dream). He was single in my dream and was clearly looking to date someone. And why WOULDN'T he want to date me? I mean, really.


So I gave him my number and parts of my address that I could remember in my dream. I was all...what town do I live in? Hmmm...it starts with an "a" (note: it does NOT)...I believe I wrote down Ashby thinking that I'd rather have him call than send me a signed picture from Tiger Beat magazine. And no, I don't know where a town named Ashby even IS.

So we went to his friend's apartment and he was trying to prove that it was hard to date people even though he's a celebrity. I was shocked. He sat down and got on the computer and typed his name: Derrek Fa**ot (an offensive term for gay people) in some search field on myspace - I guess to show me his profile? As he typed his name, I wasn't shocked that that was his last name - it's like I just knew that that was his name (because I couldn't remember that his name was Patrick Dempsey). But, I was disappointed. I mean, who wants that as a last name? Then I remembered thinking...well, he IS Derrek F@&&*! so really, can I pass this up?

The perfect hangover cure

Last night, I got home from my birthday bash (um...sure, it was a bash!) and let's just say needed to stay awake while drinking water.

I started watching TV and realized rather quickly that my choices of what I could watch were infomercials (no, I do NOT need a juicer!) and episodes of "Rob and Big" - something that I heard was funny but have never seen.

Okay, from what I gather, Rob is a professional skate boarder and "Big" is his bodyguard. I saw two episodes, laughed and then went to bed. Big is pretty much the straight man - not much action on his part, but he hangs out with Rob when he goes skating, etc. They must be big because in one episode EA Sports made a video game for them. Anyway, the episodes are funny. I Tivo'd the next episode because I thought I would want to watch it later.

This morning, I started watching it and laughed my butt off. OMG it was soooo funny.

Anyway, the episode is here.

Whew. Between that, the 785 gallons of water I drank, and a couple of Tylenol, I feel better.

Perfect Score

Because, if even for a short time in my life, I want to have a perfect record.

This blog makes blog #3 on day #3 in a month.

I love threes.

And I don't believe that I've ever been even in posts and days before.

But since today is my day I decided that even if it isn't blog worthy (and really, are any of my blogs not? Ahem...ahem) it'll do.

And just to show my progress, the following song came up today on random. I even listened to the whole song. Seemed appropriate.

"Older" by Colbie Caillat
Waited all my life for this day to come
I feel like letting go
Life goes on
Wasting no more time
So much to be done
Everything works out
So they say
Over my shoulder
It's tough getting older
Yeah, yeah

Seems like nothing is black and white anymore
Shades of gray and I feel a weight over my shoulder
It's tough getting older
I always thought that I knew where I'd want to go
Now I'm here and I find that I'm still getting colder
It's kinda tough getting older

Here before my eyes
Many roads ahead
Time for me to choose one way now
If I take a chance
What lies down the road
Feeling so confused
Turned around
On and on
On and on
Yeah, yeah'

Seems like nothing is black and white anymore
Shades of gray and I feel a weight over my shoulder
It's tough getting older
I always thought that I knew where I'd want to go
Now I'm here and I find that I'm still getting colder
It's kinda tough getting older

Waited all my life for this day to come
I feel like letting go
Life goes on
Over my shoulder
It's tough getting older
Yeah, yeah'

Seems like nothing is black and white anymore
Shades of gray and I feel a weight over my shoulder
It's tough getting older
I always thought that I knew where I'd want to go
Now I'm here and I find that I'm still getting colder
It's kinda tough getting older

Seems like nothing is black and white anymore
Shades of gray and I feel a weight over my shoulder
It's tough getting older

Shuffling

I'm a shuffler.

When listening to an iPod, I'm quick to change the song. Kind of like, 'Oh, I know this song! I love this song! (wait 5 seconds) Hmmm...I know how it ends...what's the next one on shuffle? OH! I don't know this song - must be on a compilation I bought. (wait 10 seconds) Hmm...I'd like to instead listen to one I know. I wonder what's next on shuffle.' I rarely ever listen to a song on my iPod all the way through. Much like someone who is hungry and eats just a little bit of everything in the house trying to find exactly what they're hungry for.

It makes the people in the car with me want to unlock the door, open it, and jump out because they're likely to want to face on coming traffic head on (literally!) than deal with my constant change of the song.

SO, with my new iPod, I'm trying to practice patience. I've heard it's a good trait and I figure I'd be a better person if I had more of it. I'm starting to listen to the songs more than halfway through. I've found that I'm listening to most of them (gasp!) UNTIL THE END.

This...this is progress. I think I'm going to call the Oprah show.

Snow Day

Today it snowed.

It was beautiful - the kind of big, fat, fluffy snowflakes that you hope for on Christmas.

But...um...it's May.

And I can't condone that craziness.