Monday, July 28, 2008

Row, Row, Row Your Boat

This past weekend, for the first time since May, I had ---> ** AN ENTIRE WEEKEND**<--- free of work. It was great! I slept in. I went shopping. I cleaned my house. I baked a cake. I made pancakes for my boyfriend. I watched a movie (ok, most of it, because I fell asleep). I made meatloaf and mashed potatoes. I went to dinner. I tried not to think about work. But I did. A lot. It hung over my head all day yesterday. Back to the grind. Back to the stress. I need to finish up my Huge Project here at work, but it's one of those things where you could sit and look at it for the rest of your life and never really feel like it's done. I could spend weeks tweaking it. This is partly because the directions are EXTREMELY vague, thanks to all of the educationese. I have spent at least 7 days trying to figure out exactly what the hell a "learning resource" is. ARGH.

And thanks to higher property taxes (which translates into a $30 increase in my mortgage) and all the shopping I did this past weekend (WHY do I need three watches???), I can't afford to quit Dildo's. Yet. So I still have to head in there this week, and probably the next week, too.

I still have at least 2 more weeks of suckage. Unfortunately, the weekend off didn't really make a dent in my need to de-stress and relax. 2 days just isn't enough. I need a week. Or two. It never really felt like I left work at all, actually.

Oh well. I just have to put my nose to the grindstone and get back to it. At this point, I just want to get everything over with, you know?

All of this hard work reminded me of a scene from one of my favorite movies, Ben Hur. I'm starting to relate to Mr. Hur a lot more than I used to.

That's me, 2nd from the left. Ramming speed, indeed.

Friday, July 25, 2008


Well, after three verbal requests and a nasty email, I was a little pissed to see that my manager at Dildo's was still ignoring my request for a weekend off. When I got to work on Wednesday, she hadn't even so much as given me a courtesy reply to my email. Not even a "I will have to see about this. I will talk to you later about it." -- I got nothing. Nada. [insert rage and frustration here.]

I knew she hadn't left work yet, so I paged her. No reply. I knew she was ignoring me. [insert more rage and frustration here.]

About a half hour later, I see her, trying to sneak away by taking the long way around the jewelry department. It was raining, and she even had the nerve to sort of hold her umbrella in front of her face. As if I'm not going to know it's her!!! ARGH.

"Heather!" I shouted, accusingly. She was so busted. She stopped, put down the umbrella, and glared at me.

"I need to talk to you about my schedule," I continued, unfazed. "I'm tired of this. I need a weekend off. And why didn't you reply to my page?"

"Technically, I'm not here right now," she snapped back. Ohhhhhh, no she didn't!!! I have talked to her numerous times, and she keeps blowing me off, and NOW she's copping an attitude with ME??? That little fresh-outta-college snooty ass bitch! She is going DOWN. I am so sick of her making time in her day to flirt with one of the other managers but never making time to do her fucking job.

Then she told me that I need to realize that not everyone gets a weekend off every month. Some people just don't get one, sometimes.

I replied, "Yeah. I know. I'm one of them. But I need this weekend off."

I did not appreciate her attitude or her bullshit. Almost everyone else in the department gets their weekends off with no problem. But for me and a couple other people, we have to pull teeth. It makes no sense.

"Fine," she said, halfway rolling her eyes. "Just take it."

"Thank you," I replied. Heather left.

I was so pissed off at the way she had just acted, I almost walked out right then and there. If it weren't for a special sale going on today, I probably would have just quit on the spot. But there's some jewelry I want to I will work tonight.

Over my luxurious weekend off, I will think about whether or not I will return to Dildo's on Monday. I might. I might not. Maybe I will "forget" to come in. Or perhaps I will, but I will "technically not be there." AAAARRRGH.

I am really crossing my fingers that I will hear SOON about whether or not I get to teach this class. I don't know how much longer I can put up with Dildo's. Maybe I can hang in there for two more weeks...

Speaking of timelines, I talked to The Czarina the other day. Now, a lot of people have a hard time understanding why she drives me nuts, but if they knew the crazy things that she says to me, they would understand. This is basically how our phone conversation went:

Mom: So, how is CN?

VB: He's fine! Wonderful as usual.

Mom: That's good. He's such a nice guy. I do like him.

*Relief on my end of the line.*

[Little do I know, she's just setting me up. That was her idea of a warm up to what she really wanted to lecture me about.]

Mom: So, have you two talked about marriage yet?

Oh Jezus. Here we go....

VB: *trying desperately to think up an urgent reason to get off the phone.* Not really, Mom. No.

Mom: Well, you know, you might want to put him on a timeline. You don't want to waste any more time. I mean, if he's never going to pop the might just want to break it off.

[Nevermind that doing so would make me totally miserable, but apparently, this is beside her point. And I love how all the time I've spent dating him has been a 'waste' of time.]

VB: Mom, we're fine. We have had a couple of conversations in that direction. He asked a lot of questions about my roommate's engagement. And we talked about kids once.

Mom: *hissing* Well, don't bring it up! You want it to be his idea! Let me tell you, you don't want a man who doesn't have to marry you. All that stuff should be his idea! It all needs to come from him! He needs to really really want to marry you.

VB: Ok, Mom. I get it. Yes, I agree. I don't want to browbeat him into it or anything. I'm not really an ultimatum kind of girl.

Mom: Ok, well stop bringing up wedding stuff. Don't even mention it around him.

VB: *rolling my eyes* Ok, Mom. We haven't even been dating a year yet. Everything is fine.

Mom: Ok, well, I love you, hon. I'll talk to you later.

VB: I love you, too, Mom. Bye.

Is anyone else wondering how it is fair to put CN on a "timeline" without informing him about this timeline? Doesn't seem quite fair, does it? It's like she's saying, "He needs to marry you soon. But don't talk about marriage." WTF? That doesn't make any sense! That's like yelling at someone for not taking out the trash, when they didn't even know the trash was full in the first place. Even though you knew the trash was full the whole time. It's like expecting someone to read your mind. And it's not fair.

And nevermind that he and I may not be ready for all of that yet! I love how she never asks me how I feel about this idea. Apparently, I don't need to think about it or decide anything for myself. It's all about how CN feels. A marriage conversation is totally one-sided, I guess. We know there would be no hold up on my end. I must be ready. I'm a girl. I want to be married yesterday. (Ok, I guess I can't really argue with the last statement...let's be honest, here.) But good grief! Like I need any pressure from my mother!!! We'll get there when we get there!

She's acting like women have to trick men into marrying them or something. And that's not what I'm all about. At all. If CN turned to me today and said, "I don't want to get married for another 8 years." I would be ok with it. Obviously, I wouldn't be super excited about it, because I would like to get married before I'm 40, in all honesty. But that's not something I would break up over. I would still want to be with him, even if he took his sweet ass time. I'm trying to enjoy the ride, not set an egg timer.

Jeezus! What is with her advice lately?? This is almost as bad as the time she told me I should go to medical school:

"Why, Mom? I don't want to be a doctor. I don't even want to be in the medical field. That's a helluva lot of debt. And besides, I have a weak stomach. Why on earth would I do that?" I replied.

"Duh!!! So you can meet and marry a doctor, Virginia!" she replied, frustrated. I swear, if she had been sitting closer to me, she would have thunked me in the head.

Do you see what I have to put up with?? My mother is crazy!

Monday, July 21, 2008

Groundhog Day

**WARNING** There is an obscene amount of whining and bitching in this post. Skip if you don't feel like listening today. Don't worry. I won't have time to notice a lack of comments.

Groundhog Day.

Have you seen the Bill Murray movie? I haven't, but based on what I've heard, I probably should. Apparently, it's about a man who has to re-live the same day over and over.

Oh, how I can relate.

Ironically, I don't have time to watch it. I'm too busy living my own Groundhog Day.

CN told me about an old "In Living Color" skit about the Hedleys, a family of Jamaicans, caught in a one-upmanship of employment. But the end of the skit, their claims are pretty outrageous:

I can relate to that skit, too: "I don't have time. I have to go to work." Sometimes, I feel like I work 12 jobs.

My full-time job is on the same schedule every week. My part time job is on the same schedule every week. With a few small gaps, these two schedules mesh perfectly together all week long. My house isn't so much of a home as it is an extremely dirty hotel room to me. I hurry between my bed, my main job and my part time job, only to repeat it again and again and again. Day in and day out, with each job session connected to the next, like a circled chain. I feel like I'm stuck in the pilot episode of an extremely popular dramadey: "Broadcast tonight with no commercial interruptions."

You have no idea what I would give for a goddamn commercial interruption. Time to sleep, time to clean, time to sit on my couch and BREATHE. Time to do laundry, time to cook a real meal, time to actually SEE my friends, instead of just texting them sporadically. Time to play with my dog and wander around Target.

My schedule is so strict, that if I don't get an errand done early Thursday morning, it doesn't get done. Period. I have to plan when to fill up my gas tank. I forget to go to the bathroom, only to realize I needed to pee 3 hours ago. Or I am baffled as to why I'm suddenly so thirsty, only to realize that it's 3pm, and the last thing I drank was the 6am coffee that morning. I am so concerned with the "OMG! I'm late! Where am I supposed to be? What am I supposed to be doing?" that I'm forgetting to do little things, like water my yard, return phone calls or make deposits at the bank. I find myself really looking at my priorities: unload the dishwasher or shave my legs? Iron the clean shirt, or dig through the dirty clothes to find something that will pass? Sleep or eat?

And lately, with my brain's dial set to the "Go! Do! Now!" setting, I'm having a hard time turning my body off at the end of the day, no matter how exhausted I am. That means that now, I am starting to get insomnia.

Hoo fucking ray.

Btw, this is on top of the constant headaches and gastro-intestinal issues I've already developed, thanks to my super fun new schedule.

And if you are someone who is good friends with/dating/married to someone who works two jobs, you would be The Most Awesome Person in the World if you would offer to run errands for that person. Or vaccuum their living room. Or cook them a meal. Or throw their clothes in the dryer. Instead of saying things like, "Yeah, I'm going on vacation to your most favoritest place in the world! Wish you could go with me! But you have to work, right?" or "My day? Oh, I just sorta watched tv today. Went to the gym. Took a nap. Not much." Saying these things might get your head ripped off, instantly and without apology.

So much for the Public Service Announcement portion of this blog post...and yes, CN did say that 2nd one to me the other day. But I was too exhausted to do anything more than whimper. Thinking about it pisses me off. A lot. But how can you ask your boyfriend to vacuum your living room for you, when getting the 2nd job was your idea in the first place? *sigh*

You can imagine how much fun I am to be around. Let me tell you, I am a *peach*. If I had my wish right now, I would scream at a stranger, and then have a good cry and a nap. It's sort of what I imagine being pregnant is like. Exhaustion, frustration and hopelessness. It's not going to end for months. And months. What have I gotten myself into? Why did I think this was a good idea? Is it too late to go back to the good ol' days?

Those of you who are mothers, work two jobs or have otherwise absurd numbers of juggled balls in the air, I salute you. Seriously, how the fuck do you do this without either losing your mind or turning into a supreme mega bitch?

I know what you are asking. "VB, why not just take a sick day? Call in, take a day off, you will feel better!" To which I reply:

1. I need much MUCH more than a day off. I need like a week off. Complete with clean sheets, a massage and fruity drinks. A pile of books, a big TV and a totally blank calendar. One day off wouldn't be a drop in the bucket. I had last Sunday off. It wasn't enough. It was nice to cook, don't get me wrong. But it wasn't enough. I need a Decompression Period.
2. I can't take a day off from my library job. I am working on Super Massive Huge Project, remember? And it's due on August 1st. I am about 85-90% done. So until it is done, no can do. To be perfectly honest, I have no business typing this blog post right now. I don't technically have time. But I have to do it, or I might kill a kitten or something.
3. I can't call in sick to Dildo's. First of all, it would only give me 3 hours off, and 3 evening hours isn't enough, either. Besides, they tend to fire people who call in. Not that it matters. I might quit today anyway.

Too bad my poor Dildo's manager has no idea what's coming for her at 6pm tonight. It is I, in all of my exhausted rage, and I have every intention of getting in her face and being a total bitch. Without warning. This is why:

1. Every employee gets one full weekend and one additional Sunday off per month. To date, I have had one weekend and two Sunday off. Over a 3 month period. Also, no Dildo's employee is supposed to close every Saturday. I have. So I think I've been getting screwed. This is not making me happy. Especially since that ONE weekend off was spent at my mother's house. So think about aaaaaaaall the stuff you have done in the last 11 weekends. I have not had that time at all. It was spent standing on my feet.

2. I have brought up the fact that I am not a machine to my manager, who replies with either, "Sorry, that's Dildo's policy." or "I didn't give you that day off? I'm sorry! I will fix it!" -- Both replies piss me off. Because they both communicate the same message: "I don't care!" It's bad enough hearing this message from any manager. But when it comes from the mouth of a 23 year old bimbo who spends most of her time at work doing nothing except flirting with another manager, you pretty much want to rip her face off.

This past weekend, I became fed up. After asking my worthless Dildo's manager for a weekend off this month THREE times, she "forgot" to change my schedule before she called in sick for a three day weekend so she could hang out with her boyfriend. So I had to work all weekend, AGAIN. If you are looking at a calendar right now, you will see that there are 4 weekends in July. Three of which have already passed without her fixing my schedule.

That means, there's only one weekend left. It's inventory weekend. No one is supposed to have that weekend off. So I know she's going to tell me I can't have this coming weekend off, either. And that's when I will punch her in the face. My goal is to break her nose in the process. I think that under the circumstances, the judge will be merciful.

"Give me Friday, Saturday and Sunday off, or I quit. Now." -- is what I will say. I know it doesn't sound like much of a threat, but that's because you don't know she's had some major turnover in her department lately. (My guess is because she never gives anyone any fucking days off.) So she is MEGA short handed at the moment.

And if she doesn't go for it? Fine by me. I was planning on quitting soon, anyway. Because I just cannot take this any more. At this point, maybe being in debt is worth a little sanity. Who knew how important weekends are to your psyche?? I mean, yeah, I'm making $150-200 a week. But at what price? I feel like shit. My house smells. I haven't exercised in three months. I am exhausted mentally, physically and emotionally.

Fuck. I'm late. I gotta go. I was supposed to go to lunch 45 minutes ago. Sorry about all the bitching and whining. I will try and be funner tomorrow. :\

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Thursday 13

Holy cow, have I had some serious writers' block today. I have been trying to think of something for at least an hour now! But since I'm working so much, not a whole lot has been going on. And I didn't feel like whining about my lack of a life today. Plus, I'm tired, so it can't be anything too mentally involved. So this works pretty well, and I promise I won't be gross:

Thirteen Scars on My Body

1. Left side of my jaw -- this is what happens when you play violin for 10 years. Please, warn your children now.

2. Upper back, on left (?) shoulder blade -- I had a mole removed when I was about 10. It was big, so there were stitches. A plastic surgeon was brought in to prevent a huge scar from forming. This was my mother's idea. She was worried about my wearing a backless prom dress. Nevermind that when I grew olders, I was never allowed to wear a backless anything...

3. Left shin -- A big, scary dog was barking at me. So I did what any 7 year old would do. I tried to climb up a bookcase to get away from it. I sorta hit the corner of an iron flower pot on the way up. Trauma ensued. Weird trivia fact: CN has a scar in the same place, and it looks JUST like mine.

4. Right forearm -- Burned my arm taking a giant cheesecake out of the oven. It was worth it.

5. Left elbow -- Bike wreck at my 8th birthday party. I had only recently learned how to ride a bike, and participating in a race on a looped gravel driveway seemed like a good idea. More trauma.

6. Left eyebrow -- I was a baby. Dad was babysitting me for the first time. The phone rang, and Dad left me on the bed, alone, while he went to answer it. I took this opportunity to fall off the bed, hitting a table on the way down. A couple inches difference, and I would have knocked out an eyeball. Needless to say, Dad didn't babysit me anymore after that. I now have a thin, horizontal scar which ended up working out really well -- it's perfectly aligned to where I tweeze my eyebrow!

7. Belly -- In addition to other places, this is where I have a prominent chicken pox scar. Unfortunately for me, I came down with the chicken pox just in time to miss Nikki Arnold's 8th birthday party. It was close to my own birthday, if I remember correctly. But I was more upset about missing Nikki's birthday party because she was the most popular girl in our class.

8. Left shin, just below the flower pot scar -- a terrifyingly loooong scar from what I like to call The Disposable Razor Incident. *shudders*

9. Left thigh -- In the 2nd grade, I had a stonewashed denim purse. I thought it was the coolest thing ever. I kept a pencil in it. One day, as I was getting out of a car (or was it a bus? I can't remember) to go to school, the tip of the pencil had worked its way through the fabric and poked me in the thigh. You can still see the pencil lead in my leg!

10. My ass -- MRSA. If you really want the details, do a search for MRSA on this blog. I don't wanna talk about it.

11. My bottom lip -- Another baby story. I was holding a bottle in my mouth. I was busy walking around and didn't feel like using my hands to hold the bottle, so I just clamped down on the bottle nipple with my teeth to hold onto it. Aah! My hands were free to help me balance! Too bad it didn't work. I fell, face first. The lid on the bottle cut my bottom lip. I still have the semi-circle scar.

12. Fingers -- From a summer spent at the neighborhood pool when I was in middle school. I was trying to learn how to dive, but I kept scraping my fingers on the bottom of the pool, because I hated opening my eyes under water, so I could never actually see the bottom or sides of the pool. And in case you've forgotten: scrape + chlorine = ouch. I don't dive anymore.

13. Lower back -- A souvenir from Dr. Nazi, the evil dermatologist who removed a small mole from my lower back (yes, I am a moley person) without any local anesthetic. She basically melon-balled me. OUCH. I do not recommend. Definitely ask for the novocaine.

Now that I have just written this, it sounds eerily familiar. Have I already written this same post?? I don't know. I'm too tired to go look. If I did, I apologize.

Share some scar stories with me!! Nothing gross, please. Do you have any interesting scars?

Wednesday, July 09, 2008

A Slap in the Face

I went to the dentist on Monday afternoon to discover that I have not one, not two, but THREE cavities. When I get them filled next week, I have to shell out $500. And yes, that IS after insurance, in case you're wondering. And although needles and cavity experiences aren't one of my main phobias, they aren't exactly a walk in the park for me, either. I sweat buckets and tense up anytime I sit in those chairs. It's what I would call a high-stress situation for me.

Because that's what I need: more stress and less money.

"I'm sorry. You must have the wrong mouth," I wanted to reply when the dentist broke the news to me. But unfortunately, my mouth was full of his gloved fingers and a small mirror. So I was unable to do more than whimper.

I was shocked to hear this news. According to The Czarina, I inherited her excellent teeth, rather than my father's disgusting and sad excuses for teeth. I have only had one teeny tiny cavity in my whole life. So what was this?? I mean, I can understand ONE. But THREE??? What did I do? Too much candy?? Not enough flossing?? I do have a bad habit of not always brushing my teeth before bedtime. I guess it caught up to me.

My coworker provided an interesting theory: I may have caught CN's mouth bacteria from kissing him. Since he has bad teeth, he may have spread his cavity bacteria into my mouth and made mine worse with every smooch. My boyfriend is giving me cavities. Great. What a jerk.

Well, at least I don't feel so terrible now about what happened the other night. He and I are kind of even now. This is what happened:

MJ got a new cell phone. For some reason, her new phone hasn't been communicating well with mine. When she sends me a photo, I receive it about 6 times. Over a 6 hour period. So when it's 2:30am and you are being awakened by your cell again, only to see that you are getting something you've already received four times, it's a little aggravating.

I know what you are thinking: Duh, VB. Turn your phone to silent.
To which I reply: My cell = my alarm clock, so I can't. Back to the story.

So the other night, I spent the night at CN's. I was totally exhausted. I had been getting that repeat photo from MJ, but figured it had stopped at three copies. I fell into what was a very pleasant and extremely deep slumber.

And that's where I stop remembering things. I was THAT sleepy. According to CN, this is what happened around 2:30am:

My phone beeped. (It was the same stupid photo from MJ again. And can I just state right here how much I hate Motorola? Because their phones will beep until the cows come home when you have a new message. You are not allowed to ignore it. You MUST deal with it. NOW. This is the stupidest design flaw I've ever seen. This Motorola phone will be my last.)

I woke up, and in my sleepy stupor, reach over to shut the damn phone up. The beeping also woke up CN, World's Lightest Sleeper. He starts cuddling and kissing on me. I reply:


Taken aback, CN apologizes and moves away, telling me I am mean.

For some reason, I half-way comprehend what has just happened, and I go over to kiss him and apologize. "Kiss?" I say.

"No! You're mean!" CN replies, half-joking.

"Fine. Whatever," I reply.

Then, I proceeded to roll over and immediately go back to sleep.

I have absolutely no recollection of this entire event. But I can assure you, CN isn't letting me forget it. Anytime I touch him, I have to hear "Get the f**k off of me or I will slap you in the face!"

Which is fine with me. I can't afford a fourth cavity, anyway.

Thursday, July 03, 2008

A Light at the End of the Tunnel

This month is going to suck. Not only do I have to finish up the Big Suck-Ass Project here at the library by the end of the month, but Dildo's is still working me over 20 hours per week, and it's not going to change. And my dumb manager got my schedule wrong -- I'm supposed to have one weekend off from Dildo's per month. Right now, the schedule says I have 0.

Which means the only day this month where I do not have to work at all is: July 13th. Gee, thanks.

Ok, ok, I shouldn't complain. I am paying off my credit cards like mad. I think I will pay off about $700 this month. Maybe $800. It's almost worth not having a life. Almost.

That's why I'm so freaking excited about some news I recently got: I am going to be an adjunct instructor and teach a college-level class here where I already work, starting in August. This is extremely awesome because:

1. It's only 1-2 nights during the week, so no more weekends!!
2. It pays a lump sum of about $1200, which I can just forward on to my credit cards in a big lump sum, instead of juggling around money between all my bills and two jobs and five paychecks like I am doing right now. It gets confusing, especially when the Dildo's paycheck is vastly different from week to week. And my electricity bill is all over the map.
3. I love love love love to teach. Anything. To anyone. Even this class, which is a sort of Welcome-to-College-Here's-How-Not-to-Fuck-Up class. Seriously, teaching is definitely on the short list of my passions.
4. Since I will already be at the library, and therefore already on campus, I will not have to use any gas to get to my night job. Woot. And I think it will end around 7pm-ish, rather than 9:30 like Dildo's.
5. There is nothing to buy while I am there. I have spent at least $100 on jewelry since I started at Dildo's. Oops. I guess it's like an alcoholic working in a bar....kind of dumb to get a job at the mall, now that I'm looking at it....
6. I will get to totally avoid the Hell that is The Holiday Mall.

The class runs from August - mid-December. If you are number crunching right now, you are correct: this is not going to pay as well as Dildo's, where I am earning about $500/month. BUT I will have a life again! I can go to the gym, cook, see my friends, sleep in on Saturdays......ahhhhhh. I can't wait.

So I'm thinking I will quit Dildo's at the end of the month, enjoy a 2 week semi-vacation where I only work one job, and then my class will start. The cool thing is, once you start teaching this class, they usually have you teaching it every semester. So I'm good to go.

In other money-related news, CN got his economic stimulus check. Since he is smart and doesn't have oodles of credit card debt like his girlfriend does, his options are limitless with this $600 he just got from Uncle Sam. I asked him what he was going to do with it, and he made a joke about eating it (don't ask) and then promptly changed the subject. Hmmm. That's an interesting my admittedly semi-nosey question. So a couple days later, when the topic of the Uncle Sam check came up again, I got the same answer.

Is anyone else thinking what I'm thinking? No? Just me? Ok. Moving on.

Btw, he and I celebrated our 10 month anniversary by.....(drumroll please)...eating leftovers and passing out on the couch in front of the tv. What an exciting couple, no?

Oh! Some more exciting news: I have a Little Sister (as in Big Brothers Big Sisters). We haven't met yet, because I'm trying to schedule our meeting, but my schedule is not cooperating. Argh. So I'm playing phone tag with the Big Brothers Big Sisters rep, who is playing phone tag with the girl's mother. It's crazy. But the mom wants to get the ball rolling ASAP, so we may meet up as soon as this weekend!!!! Yay! So exciting.

Tomorrow is the 4th. I will be working. Shocker! I'll be at Dildo's all day. But it won't be an entirely suck day: they are feeding us lunch (hot dogs and burgers), which is nice. It would be nicer to get time and a half, but whatever. (New employees don't get time and a half on holidays, which is probably why they have me working all day long.)

After I get off work, I am going to see a semi-pro baseball game downtown, where I will eat more hot dogs (seriously, I'm in a phase) and actually --*gasp*-- hang out with some friends! I seriously only see MJ twice a month now, and it's killing me. Text messages and emails only go so far. Most of what she knows about my day-to-day life now is via this blog. That is sad.

Oh! If you are wondering about Miss MJ, since her blog is now defunct, here's a quickie update:

She sorta dated this guy who works for her company, but lives in Florida. He was in town for a couple of months, and was rather smothering, then he was a bad kisser, then became a good kisser. I'm hoping to get more details soon. Also, she is now in a co-ed soccer league, and their first game is tonight.

And I have dubbed myself Unofficial Team Mom, because A) I don't have shit else to do. LOL and B) any excuse to bake something is awesome for me. So I managed to squeeze out enough time to bake some cupcakes this morning, and after I get off work here in a few minutes, I'm going to take them to MJ and her teammates.

Then she and I are going to have some much needed girl time. Until I have to go to bed so I can get up early for work. *sigh*

One more month. Then I have a life again.

Wednesday, July 02, 2008

I'm a Survivor

I was hoping to have a bunch of awkward and hilarious anecdotes to share with you about the trip up to The Czarina's. But nothing really happened! Everything went really smoothly. CN likes Mom, Mom likes CN. The end.

CN really enjoyed teaming up with The Czarina to tease me, which caused me to exclaim more than once, "Hey! Whose side are you on, anyway?!" to him. They thought this was hilarious.

I have to say, I think Czarina was on her best behavior. Not once did any of our baggage-laden, touchy-subject issues come up in conversation. She didn't even speak a word about my obvious weight gain!!! And it definitely helped that she had a party to host, because it really wasn't in her schedule to sit down for a heart-to-heart with him, asking about his intentions. She was much MUCH too distracted. WHEW.

Her distraction was so great, in fact, that not even 30 minutes after lecturing Smurf about her abysmal teenage driving skills, she was pulled over by a policeman for running a stop sign. Whoops. To make it even worse, Mom was so oblivious to his flashing lights that she just proceeded to park her car and get out to go do her business as if nothing were wrong. CN and I, who had already parked in our car and were waiting for her nearby, saw her get out of her car and so we began yelling, "What are you doing??!! He's going to pull a gun on you!!!" and then we busted out laughing when we saw her realize what was going on. Then we called Smurf to tell her that Mom just got pulled over for blowing a stop sign. And that she could have been shot for getting out of her vehicle. The Czarina will never live this down.

CN was a paragon of perfection, if I do say so myself. Fat Dog was not around to help Mom with the party, because he was in his best friend's wedding and therefore, out of town. Fungus arrived with a painful back injury, so he was also unable to help out with party preparations. So CN stepped up to the plate and moved furniture, set up tables and carried lots of things around for my mother. I was very proud, and The Czarina was very grateful. He earned lots of points.

Aside from one guest showing up FIVE HOURS EARLY to the party, despite the invitations CLEARLY stating the party started at 6pm*, everything went really well, party-wise. There was plenty of leftover food and alcohol. I got to see many friends of the family. CN made a wonderful impression on everyone, but at the same time, he said he never felt pressured or overwhelmed the entire time he was at The Czarina's. In fact, he said he had a great time and thought everyone was wonderful. I wish I could say the same thing -- not once, but TWICE during the party someone whispered very loudly to me, "So, do you think he's the one???" when CN was barely out of earshot. This made me want to whisper loudly back, "I don't know! Maybe you should ask him, since he's standing right behind you!!"

Argh. I should have spent more time avoiding the loud whisperers, rather than just trying to stay away from my mother.

* This is pretty typical behavior for this guest. Last year, he refused to drive to the party himself, and my poor brother was stuck driving him on the 3 hour trip to my mother's house. Keep in mind that this particular guest is a sweaty, creepy old man who is very nosy, particular and irritating. And he wears shorts with black knee socks, a source of much amusement for the under-40 crowd at the party.