Address Service Requested

Geez. I almost forgot how to sign into Blogger. Too bad I'm not cool enough to spend at least a solid paragraph here apologizing for not updating in a bit. Instead I'll just tippity type.

I'm in a smashy, dashy, snip-snap mood. I have a date with the grocery store and I dread the occasion. Blech. Grippity gripe. Daily, my mom calls as I'm walking in the door from work. Everyday she says.. "What're you doin?" I say, "Just walked in the door." She says, "Really? You get home this late?" How many times will she do this? She always rushes off the phone telling me to call once I'm settled. It's a strange routine that's the same and imaginarily different everyday.

I didn't want to spend any money until April 1st so that I could keep a close eye on the money we spend but it looks like I'll be going to the store a day early 'cause papa ain't got food to cook fer mama. That was ugly, eh? Or dripping with syrupy charm. haha. ugly, i think.

I want a dog. I've had this longing for a loooooooooonnnnnnnnggg time now. I'm too scared to ask our landlord 'cause the last renters had a dog and it tore a bunch of things up. He was busy fixing all those things before we could move in. I feel like it's probably still a sore subject for him so I'm scared to ask. I want him to see that we totally rule as renters. We're responsible, the yard will be pretty, our cat is not tearing things up, etc. Maybe I should just stop wanting a dog, though because our yard isn't big. It's fenced but not big and that wouldn't be fair to our dog. I grew up on a farm so I'm used to having dogs that are happy with all their room to roam. Huge yards to run in, fields to explore, no fences. We had a really long driveway so it was rare that a dog would venture off into the road. Oi. I want a dog. I want room for the dog. I want a house to own. I want, I want, I want.

I kind of have a date Tuesday. Meow!!!! I'm excited in the most pathetic of ways. Nobody ever asks me out to do things with them in a public place. Trust me, the roommate is HAPPY for me to go so .. don't be afraid to ask.! heh. I hope you're doing well. I suppose I should scamper off into the happiness that is grocery shopping. Maybe I can ride at the end of the cart while my roommate pushes it. He'd crash me into things or push it and run. That's just like him!

Snippity snip. Snippity snip snip.

What's that from, huh?
Tell me in the comments and I'll leave you a present! aha. bribery.

Were you picked last for kickball?

Has it been a week?
Were you green this week?
I was sickly and in pain for a portion of the week. A solid portion. I won't whine.
The green day came and went. I celebrated with a shirt. At home I mostly forgot. It never crossed my mind to do something like go out. Brother-in-law here. We had homemade enchiladas. I "poached" my chicken with some salt, pepper, jalapeno peppers and garlic. I've grown obsessed with reading recipes, reading about what others cooked or had for dinner. There are still sweets and treats that are unnecessary but I find myself humored and fascinated at the thought of what my body will do to the good things. I imagine the physical nourishment taking place and it makes me smile a smile that I wash down with water. Coffee this morning for the first time in a week.

Yesterday we purchased a barbeque grill. It's only a small one, perfect for the back porch. I long for warmish cool nights with friends.
Friends.
Friends?
aha.
Somehow, it seems all of mine have disappeared.
Part of this is due to locale. A change in location. We as humans are sometimes apprehensive about extending any sort of effort. I attempted for months to gather a group of the women in my family to spend a day together. It would involve a couple hours' worth of driving for some and thus it never happened. I'll not scold as I'm one of the worst. I rarely return calls. Even more rare is it that I'll initiate the call in the first place....but still I stew in sadness sometimes when I'm ignored. Hypocritical mess of a being. It is perhaps the act of living vicariously that makes me pour over others' blogs. I read of their adventures with friends. Huge groups of friends extending to even more than 2 or 3 at a time. I am ungrateful indeed. Here I am in a cozy little house with a husband that is lovely and wonderful, moreso everyday. He knows just how to stroke my funny bones and make them laugh.
I'm choosing, or at least trying to choose to not berate myself for venting here. It has been said and is true that you have choices here. love me or leave me. It seems many have chosen the latter and I need to also be ok with that. I guess I am the type that likes being asked. I don't initiate much so meet me halfway when I'm trying. I sit at home, frustrated with myself for being bored, looking at the cleaning or laundry I could be doing and refusing. But I remain bored, just wishing someone would call and ask me to go somewhere and do something...or to come over...or to invite themselves over. I love that. I encourage it. I'm an antisocial being that needs social interaction. At work I sit at a desk alone. Nobody there talks to me. I think being a temp puts a strike against me before I step foot in the door. I face a wall. I sit facing a plain white wall. I'm one of 2 women in the entire place. Last week I brought along our clock radio that plays CD's. It is my new best friend at work. It is the only thing anchoring me in sanity there. I get excited when faced with filing papers because it means I get to stand and move around. This job is so horribly not me. What IS me? Shit. Where do I get some direction in figuring it out? Stop being such a fucking negative Nancy, girl. Life's ball is always in your damn court so do something with it. Walk over and pick it up instead of praying that someone will throw it to you. fuck fuck fuck.

Yesterday. An afternoon downtown...a surprising mere minutes from our home. I am always surprised at how close things are. I forget. I wanted to go to the Asian Market that I believe is off 3rd St. but I couldn't find it and didn't look very hard. I haven't been to the City Market since I was a wee one. Is it worth going? When it's warmer I'd love to go. We perused Architectural Salvage on Broadway. Interesting always. The air outside felt extra special in contrast to the staleness inside. Late lunch at LuLu's. I had the Rainbow Peanut Noodles. We ate chicken satay with a strangely creamy curry sauce. Spicy, hot noodles and cool, creamy thai iced tea. Our bellies were full and we made our way towards home.

Lately I fall asleep very early. I always feel I have to scold myself for doing so. On Friday I had risen shortly after 6 for work. At 10:30 Friday night I was fast asleep. I'm sure this makes me exciting company on the weekend. Last night I made it until midnight before nodding off on the couch like an old woman with her afghan. I'm going to shower now. I have this wonderful new soap. It's Burt's Bee's Citrus Spice Exfoliating Soap. It smells like citrus, patchouli and cinnamon. I saw you wrinkle your nose but let me assure you.. Were you to stand next to me following my shower...you'd want nothing more than to whisk me away to Woodstock and eat me with a little spoon made only for dolls. I promise you would.

oh, geez. more stuff..

I forgot to mention that we walked up to the Snake parade today. I got a little sunburn on my chest and my cheeks. I love the glow. It doesn't quite sting but it's intensely warm.. I have this dorky love for marching bands and tonight I had a revelation. I called to my husband from the living room and said.. "I think I know why I love marching bands! It's the drums!" and folks, it is. Those drums just haul me in with no mercy. At first I used the word "lull" there but that seemed too delicate. I needed something to indicate to you the brute force those drums use with dragging me into their presence. I go without a fight, though. I say all of that to really give you an awkward segue into my official swoony rant about Tom Waits.

Tom Waits.

He's so beautiful. I love his music. Earlier we listened to a Primus CD and as we were here listening to Tom Waits my husband told me that one of the guys from Primus plays bass on a lot of these songs. I told him I love all the "big sounds" in his music. There are big, pounding sounds. His voice is smoky, gritty, even strained. I want to get dirty and wallow around in his music. In an intense song, a banjo strums light in the background. Things clang and metal clanks. He hollers out, whispers, growls, serenades. He weaves a tale for you and you can come along or fuck off. He'll go along regardless, at his own damn pace, smoking a cigarette. I'm going along. barefoot in the mud.

whatcha doin?

We're listening to Tom Waits at present and ooooh, it's so good. It's always so good with him. He makes me swoon. His music bangs me into submission. Meow.

I wanted to write this entire post about ink pens. I'm very picky about ink pens. I like a specific type, err, at least a type that writes a certain way. Smooth, not too fine, doesn't smear, etc. I really thought I could go on and on about it and perhaps at another time I could but lucky for you, I'm choosing not to. What I really wanted to do was show you this picture. I have a pen I just wrote a couple of letters with and it says on the pen it's waterproof. I figured that was bogus so I wrote "Waterproof?" on a piece of yellow paper and then held it under the faucet. Sure enough, that damn pen is waterproof. The ink didn't run a single bit. I took a picture of the glistening paper to show you but now I'm too lazy to upload the picture onto my rock computer. The chisel moves just too slow.

Tonight has been nice. We ate a good dinner sitting side by side on the living room floor. We were watching PBS. I won't tell you what was on. I've been reading for a long time now. I have been poking sticks of incense into the plug for the kitchen sink. Various random scents a friend gave me as a gift. Admittedly, I love incense. This one contains scents like air and water. It's interesting in a pretty good way.

Tomorrow, family lunch. I'm taking a huge salad. The tomatoes I purchased last week are still not ripe though and that makes me sad. I can't wait until Spring has arrived. I want plants everywhere. EVERYWHERE!
Also on the agenda tomorrow, unfortunately, a visitation. A man I've known most of my life was killed in a car wreck. He has 3 little girls. It's incredibly sad and surreal. He died the day after my mom told me my second grade teacher is in one of the last stages of brain cancer. She's young, only 44. She has to be on my list of top 2 teachers in my entire life. She's smart, funny, creative. I loved her as a teacher. When I was a senior in high school she invited me to her second grade class. I stood there, finally taller than someone else, and she told her kids about how I used to be a little girl in her class too, just like them. She has little boys and it makes my heart hurt.
Live it up, folks.

I can't resist.

Toothpaste for Dinner.

an aside. (or 2)

I just want to say first.. Sometimes it only takes 1 person.
I mean that very literally. I received some encouragement via email, comments and my doorstep. Thank you.

And also.
I was very intrigued by a group (?) called Lemon Jelly. What a really great name!! And to this I say, "Yes, please!" It made me smile. I can't explain.

If you, wait for me.. then I'll.. come for you.

It was a bit before 6 when I got home from work. These days I leave around 6:45 and dive into Rush Hour head first, driving east, straight into the sun. On my trek home, west, straight into the sun. It seems powerful but mostly it's just hard to see. I'm short so it's hard to actually utilize the visor much.

We had one of those miniature pecan pies in the cabinet. You know, it's 3 inches or so, in a tiny little tin. I cut it into 4 triangle pieces and we each ate 2 pieces. At the end I mused that we'd "..eaten the entire pie!" It was cute in the way that exact replicas of big things are in miniature form.

We stood at the counter and I told him about another day at work. He patiently listened and even put up a personal battle on my behalf. It helped.

I cooked polenta for dinner. I cut red, yellow and green peppers, onion and garlic and tomatoes. Tossed in some salt, pepper and basil and we sauced our slices of polenta. Cheese was sprinkled, tea was sipped and bellies were filled. All was well and we laughed. After dinner I sat at the table for a moment and my mood went hurtling as low as possible. I still can't explain it. That happens. I behave so ugly sometimes. I ended up punching him in the arms. It was playful at first but then, somewhere inside, my playful punches were spilling frustration. He went outside and I piled laundry into the washing machine. What makes me get so cold? It's like there's a nasty being inside me, living all fat and happy. It's warm and slimy and mean, wallowing around just waiting for it's chance. I guess that's just anger, right? Everyone deals with it differently. I subconsciously feed mine huge dinners of frustration and self-loathing. The thing dines on doubt for dessert and leans back to chuckle and rub it's belly. It lies in wait and I always come calling. My actions come out violently and loudly or at times just in hot tears. Those things make me disappointed in myself.

I'm glad I have created this place to talk about whatever's in my head but ya'know how you get really excited about doing something and you try really hard to do it well but you realize there are others that do it soooo much better and so you figure...why bother? I feel that way often. It's a silly way to feel but not uncommon I don't think. It can apply in many areas. Writing, art, whatever. There have been times in my life where I intentionally left the house looking like complete shit because I thought if I looked like I had spent any time and effort at all, but still came out looking shitty it would be worse because then people would know I had tried and still failed. It's funny to write out what I'm feeling and read the words, only to think of what I'd have to say if someone else were writing the same. Hind sight?

I just keep hashing it out, trying to figure out who I am. I'm 25 and I suppose this is prime "finding yourself" time. The job situation does weigh heavy though because I hate what I'm doing and the way I'm treated makes me feel worthless. I do realize that people have to put up with a lot of the bad stuff in order to partake in the good stuff. Patience, persistence, perseverance and on and on and on. Perhaps this is the part where I scold myself for being unhappy, like I have no right to be. cliche, cliche, cliche.

Can't you just do it for me?
I'll pay you well.
Fuck! I'll pay you anything if you could unders...
Can't you just fix it for me?
It's gone berserk.
Fuck! I'll give you anything if you can make the damn thing work.
Can't you just fix it for me?
I'll pay you well.
OH FUCK, I'll pay you anything if you could understand!

I love you, won't you tell me your name.
Hello, I'm good for nothing.
Do you love me just the same?

dresden dolls.

pack it up, pack it in..

Seriously. Just throw in the towel. Stop reading this blog. I recommend it.

I've entered hell.
This temp job thing is hell. If I were reading Sartre's "No Exit" or whatever, this.. this would be my hell.

I can't, won't, shouldn't go into any of it. I just don't understand. I thought I was better than this. I was reading Smitten's accounts of her amazing new job. I'm so jealous I could just, stab my eye out or something. In the same breath, I'm happy for her. People deserve that. I believe that people truly can find a job they love and I've said that on here more than once. Dan said some things that made me pause, breathe and know that there is better to come. Spring is indeed on it's way. I do look rather cute and happy in my new shirt with the pink stripes. I chopped all my hair off. and...maybe someday I'll have one of those jobs.

It's just that...
At the moment..
I have to get out the poison.
The disheartening capabilities of this job and my search are pure venom.
Just like deb has, over at Smitten, I begin thinking that it's me. Today I separated myself completely from the situation so I could just look at it objectively and still I was enraged. I didn't deserve it. I have a good brain! On top of that, I try to use it! I soak up what you give me and run with it. I work hard. It doesn't make sense to me. I tried to do a couple of extra things today and was shot down completely. Scolded even. I thought employers liked people to show up on time, even early, to stay late, to do their best, work hard.. What gives?! I complain entirely too much it seems. Unfortunately for you, I do most of my complaining at home, to my roommate person and here. That's why I'm just suggesting you throw in the towel. This is an ugly, lacking, yet very narcissistic blog. Just look at how many of those sentences begin with "I." Ew.

A pause in typing this makes me see that it's a jumbled mess. I can't get my thoughts out in a coherent manner. It all just spills out and then creeps back in. Long-story-not-quite-as-long.. I need encouragement. It's not exactly the same if you flat out ask for it but mainly, I'm making an observation. A little encouragement for me can go a long way. Dan offered some up in his last comment. Thank you, thank you. I wish some of you knew me in person. I wish we'd spent long evenings talking about everything and nothing. I wish you'd sat in my living room or ate my food. At this job thing, when I'm most frustrated, I wish the person berating me would see more of the human I am instead of another way to be a controlling piece of crap. Many, many people around me, in the tiny circle I have of friends, have no idea what I'm actually like. When I got married, many of my friends just sorta dropped off. I insist that it's not me that's changed. I really haven't... If anything, I'm a better person now. I appreciate people more. I love more. I give more. Yet people have wandered off, chalking it up to another married friend leaving the nest. The assumption that it always happens, does not necessarily make it true in this case, ok?

The fact remains: I am a messed up human. I have so much to offer to people and to employment. How can I make it pan out? I'm trying. I really am. Forgive the sulkiness of this blog. I hate it as much as you do but slowly, molasses-in-winter-slow, I am trying to sort out what I think and feel and hope for. Really though, I can never really get it out coherently. I get a nod and smile and we muse at how the weatherman was wrong again today and how there's a possibility of snow on Wednesday and can you believe the price of gas? Mentor me. Anyone willing to invest some time in me? I promise I'm worth the trouble.

Word of the Month: Boring.

Ugh. I disgust myself. I'm so BORED. I'm so BORING. It's my own fault. I don't make plans, I don't ever call people. I've been increasingly bad at entertaining myself lately. Yuck. This.. this is horrible. I shouldn't be bored. I should scrub the woodwork or finish this book, work on finding a permanent job (this one's temp for 2 months) or.. something. I read about others' plans with envy. I think part of it is the fact that I've felt guilty spending money because I haven't been making any. Not everything out and about has to cost $$$ but a lot of it does. I went to Target for the first time in quite awhile sometime last week and spent almost $100. Ew. bad kid. Some of it was pure necessity crap, including things such as toothpaste, shampoo, soap, etc. Others were yummy smelling candles and a couple new shirts. Eek. I'm not a clothes-buying type girl but I needed a couple of newish, nice'ish things for my new job job. Enough griping. Entertain me? Pathetic.

zing! Stars! woo!

Hey, PoopJerks! What gives?! I get a damn job and not one single "way to fucking go?" Psh. I'd rather occupy my time hitting on M.Toast anyway, PoopJerks. When I'm busy with that I'll have no time to read the damn comments you don't leave anyway, got it?!

Anyway, I'm feeling ultra-refreshed today. I woke up early, had breakfast with Mom. I'm going to clean and work out today. Tomorrow I start the new job. weeeee!! I'm feeling full of energy. It may be because I nodded off to sleep on our super-wonderful-olivey-brown couch last night while watching the "Women of '77" on IndependentLens. I dig a lot of what they show. I had just spent a good chunk of time before that reading Toni Morrison's, Paradise. Jdoublep was talkin' about her awhile back and it made me wanna pick up something of her's.

Mom made Tiger cookies for us and they are so yum. You should have some. It's almost like a little round brownie. It's soft and chocolatey with a hershey's kiss shoved down in the middle.

I'm outta here. Hasta lasagna, don't get any on ya!