Purloined from Other Blogs: Reflections of This Year

1. Was 2005 a Good Year for You?

The other day, I opened my new issue of RollingStone Magazine and noticed an article about how 2005 was not a good year. I wouldn't go as far as to say that 2005 was a bad year, but it was most certainly difficult. It was one, big, fussy baby of a year.

2. What was your favorite moment of the year?

Yesterday afternoon, actually. I was walking out the gates after putting in my last day of work for the year when I looked up at the sky and realized that while things were very much not like I had envisioned them, that I was at a place at my life where I wanted - gainfully employed, making some dough, and about to get an actual holiday break. And the sky was clear and I could smell spring in the air...even though we're due for another 22 inches of snow before the year ends. There's a lot to be said for becoming the person you wanted to be when you were 10.

3. What was your least favorite moment of the year?

Early April, somewhere in Missouri...it was at that exact moment that I realized that even gravity fails. And I was in Missouri.

4. Where were you when 2005 began?

Sitting at the kitchen table, playing cards and drinking whiskey with Grandpa!

5. Where will you be when 2005 ends?

I don't know.

6. Did you keep your 2005 Resolutions?

I no longer make resolutions. Everyday, we're all a work in progress.

7. Did you fall in love in 2005?

I drowned in it.

8. What is the stupidest thing you've done this year?

Probably trimming some dude's armpit hair in the bathroom of a shitty apartment in Morton, IL. That was pretty lame.

9. Regret it?

Ney. It makes a good, albeit weird, story.

10. Did you break up with anyone in 2005?

I had no traditional relationships this year. I did, however, preemptively call some things off this year as well as talk myself out of persuing a few.

11. Did you make any new friends in 2005?

There's a whole new cast of characters out there...

12. Who are your favorite new friends?

Peoria wouldn't be the same without the Reverend. This is a fact.

13. What was your favorite month of 2005?

August was pretty kickass!

14. Did you travel outside the US in 2005?

I went to Florida. Same difference.

15. How many states did you travel to in 2005?

Illinois, Kentucky, Tennessee, Arkansas, Missouri, Texas, Florida, Indiana, Ohio, Georgia...surely there were more. I almost went to Pennsylvania.

16. Did you lose anyone close to you in 2005?

No one died, but there are many far away and a couple lost to me.

17. What was your favorite movie of 2005?

I saw Star Wars thrice in the theater. Waiting... was silly but it spoke to me. I loved the message: Sometimes you just have to show your balls to the world to shake things up and give life the momentum it needs to go in a different direction. It was profound.

18. What was your favorite song of 2005?

I don't listen to much new stuff anymore. Having said that, my (personal) definitive 5 of the year were:

1. Chariot - Gavin De Graw
2. Slackjawed Jezebel - Gov't Mule
3. Learning to Fly - Pink Floyd
4. Heart of the City - Jay Z
5. Something in the Air - Wilco (orig. by Thunderclap Newman)

A myriad of moments burned into my mind were accompanied by these songs.

19. What was your favorite record of 2005?

Late Registration blew my mind.

Led Zepplin IV for the rediscovery win.

20. How many concerts did you see in 2005?

A ton of locals while out and about, Three Dog Night in Florida, Montgomery Gentry in a cornfield, and Wilco in Chambana for the win.

21. Did you drink a lot of alcohol in 2005?

Does the pope wear prada? Less now that I've gone legit.

22. Did you do anything that you were ashamed of this year?

Once my shame burned so brightly that the tungsten broke. If I did, it didn't register. Actually, being an ass to people. I burn with shame when I'm an ass to people. Especially family or friends.

23. What was your most embarassing moment of 2005?

They are innumerable. I was in a situation where the patrons of a beer garden were clapping and cheering and I've said some pretty stupid stuff this year. Oh, and I ripped my pants at work the other day. Right in the business district too.

24. What was your proudest moment of 2005?

This year I got a good job and a Master's Degree. I blazed a path of glory across the United States. I'm actually most proud that in the face of adversity, I've finally learned to only maneuver with grace and aplomb. Just still being here is an achievement. And so is being told that I've made things better.

25. What are your plans for 2006?

More fun. More money. More certifications. More adventure. More hope. More of everything.

The Cold Room

This morning, I donned a parka and went into the cold room. The sophisticated refrigeration system in that room allows it to get to temperatures in excess of 50 degrees below zero. When I went in, it was only 5 to 10 below. It didn't feel that bad. Then again, I was only in there for about 10 minutes at a time. But still...I went in the cold room!

Sunday Night

For starters, it just kills me that commercials refer to this area as "downstate Illinois." There's about 330 more miles of state south of here and about 300 miles of state north of here. Wouldn't "midstate Illinois" or "central Illinois" be a more appropriate descriptive term? Oh yes, that's right, there's nothing south of I-80. Absolutely nothing. At all.

I've done absolutely nothing this weekend. Absolutely nothing. I've been living off a steady diet of tv, taco bell, and self-loathing. Though thanks to a profound post on MSUR by Allison, I realized that my warped perception of relationships is the product of a statistical misconception, aka the Gambler's Fallacy.
So now that I realize this, I can move on about my fears of new relationships and concentrate my neuroses on something else - just in time for 2006. I guess now my biggest hangup is that the wonderful ones will lose interest in me and just go away. I get really scared of being abandoned and I think that's the reason why I have this near-constat urge to not settle in one place for very long and move around as much as I can. If I can be the first to go, no one will have the chance to just up and leave me. Speaking of broken logic...
Why is it that mathematics, something that used to be the bain of my existence, has become something quite comforting.

Thanks to the wonder that is TBS, I am now watching Forrest Gump for the second time this evening. It is impossible to watch this movie and not become teary-eyed a time or two.

Four more days of work until shutdown. After a weekend of doing nothing, it actually appears like I'll make it through the week. I just need to keep morale up and know that working all the time isn't the path to contentment. I think I'm going to go offsite for lunch on Wednesday and/or Thursday. And if I can, I'll sneak off at lunch on Tuesday for a discount carwash on Knoxville. (Ladies day at the gas station/car care place.) My black paint job isn't meshing well with the insane amounts of salt dumped on the roads up here. No wonder come spring these roads are as bumpy as they can be.

Bumpy...I really like the way that word fits in my mouth.

Other words that fit well in my mouth...calling someone up and saying hello and asking if they'd like to have dinner or a something as I pass through town on my way back home for Christmas. Until then, a poke on facebook will have to suffice.

Griping about a Cold: Vol. 2

Top 5 Reasons Why It's Not Cool to Have a Cold

1. When you call people, they think that it's Darth Vadar crank calling.
2. Tonsils the size of footballs.
3. Sparky the red nosed reindeer. (Just in time for the holiday festivities.)
4. No one will make out with you. (Wait, that's every single day.)
5. Your head turns into a slime factory.


Accomplishments for the weekend:
1. Sleeping 18 hours Friday-Saturday.
2. "The Magic of Christmas" with family at the Little Theatre on the Square in Sullivan.
3. Surviving a trip to Decatur.
4. Realizing I was going the wrong way down a one way in Springfield. "Wait, why are the turn lane arrows pointing toward me?"
5. Updating my iPod. (Johnny Cash@work == Faster Days, Greater Productivity)
6. Filing my fingernails and then proceeding to bite at the skin around them, as I am an unrepentant nail biter.
7. Another inch or two of snow. (Fie on me, taking credit for mother nature.)
8. Spraying everything (everything!) with Lysol).
9. Freaky dreams about being gunned down by Mexicans while hunting for deer and about motivational speeches at work but being unable to listen because people kept playing with my leg.
10. Reading about decarbonizing an engine. (Hott!)

The Pro

So I was a wee bit hungover at work yesterday. I had a good reason though, you see. Tuesday morning, I slammed my finger in the drawer and then proceeded to have a brisk nosebleed. Later that afternoon, I was chewed out for things that I didn't do nor do I have any control over to fix. But worst of all was getting angry with the person whose cubicle I go hide in when life is boring or scary. It was stupid, but sometimes people say and do things that make people the worst kind of angry of all...girl angry. Being girl angry is the worst because it's this irrational, uncontrollable, very sad tantrum like fit. You'll want to control yourself but it just all spills out. I think of it as an acute spoke in the menstral cycle. (For reference, when I'm girl angry, I'll shoot dirty looks, get quiet, and contemplate/call you bad names under my breath.) Fortunately, like the burn of wasabi, it's transient. Hot as hell but transient.

So then I cleared off my desk of distractions (goodbye ringtoss!) and slammed it all away in my metal desk drawer, finger and all. Then I proceeded to yell "OWWW!" at a volume I hypothesize to have been heard at least 3 cubicles away. Immediately my eyes began to tear up, partly because of pain and mostly because I had allowed myself to be so irritated that I had physically injured myself. Deciding to literally go cool off, I ran (actually it was fast walking) outside and called Ames, babbling incoherently while sticking my hand into a snow bank. After returning to my desk, my nose started bleeding. When it rains, it pours.

Now I'll just skip to the resolution of this because the odds are that if you're reading this, I probably called you from Old Chicago on Tuesday night several Budweisers and bourbon shots into celebrating my 6 months at work. (As with all great tantrums I've had, this one related to indifference to a milestone. I'm the queen of maturity.) Nicole and I talked about how strange work can be and I drunkenly told her that she's the most awesomest assitant/friend ever. Seriously - she sets up my meetings at day and hauls my pitifulness around at night. I had her take me to "the cleanest bar" in Peoria, hoping that bright lighting, clean(ish) floors and karoke would keep away all that I did not want to see that night. As for that, I did call and apologize in my own little Sparky way, offering information about toxic substances as peace offering. That and words that rhyme with cube(s).

But yesterday I spent the first 90 minutes at work completing 4 reports. I get a lot done in a short amount of time when I'm not busy trying not to vomit. Didn't feel better until sometime after lunch, though was still having questionable moments into the afternoon. Felt the best after drinking coffee in the hallway and deciding to just get one with it all. I'm a pro though - I even ran a morning meeting explaining complex concepts and sketching out gas chromatograph peaks to illustrate my points. Only three people were the wiser to my condition. Will I make a habit of this? Hell no.

So what was my secret to being chipper despite waking up wondering if I had eaten sand in the night? People that I drunk dialed calling me up at 7 am to make sure I was okay. Really, if someone had called you up girl-crying (you know how that goes) around midnight, demanding bedtime stories, and falling asleep on the phone, what would you do? Well this nice boy called me back and though I don't think I've yet told him, it really meant a lot. And with that, for as badly as Tuesday morning started off, Wednesday morning started off that well.

Shallow Thoughts

When driving for hours and hours, it's easy to let the mind wander. It'd easier to think in a random string of consciousness than think about how little there on I-57 and that it's just crazy there are actually 70 miles between Mattoon and Champaign. (Hence the reason for meandering through country roads this afternoon...had seen more of 57 than I could bear.)

So here it is folks, a sampling (n=10) of things that I've realized/thought about today:

1. I've had a magazine subscription for 12 years.
2. Chicken rings from White Castle are way better than Chicken Fries from Burger King.
3. Someone keeps erroneously sending me email inviting me to go do things. I've pointed this out to the sender a few times, but I keep getting the email. I don't know a "Lauren" from a pro-life group at Notre Dame. And though I'm sure she's lovely, I don't really want to go have coffee.
4. I left the rest of that spaghetti in Katie's fridge. When I put meat in it, I like mine better.
5. It sucks that all the sororities have to go through mandatory hazing awareness training when it's been quasi-common knowledge for years which ones partake in questionable activities while the rest play by the rules.
6. 33 degrees feels colder than 8, though humidity may play a role.
7. There may be no such thing as a "good" Applebees in Springfield, Illinois. And there's no good way to get across town either.
8. What the hell does it mean when someone tells you to "take care of yourself?"
9. Having a flame-thrower would be pretty cool.
10. A sure-fire sign I need to find some culture around here: I made a mental note to go check out a western supply store next time I'm passing through Tower Hill. Why do I even care where Tower Hill is located and what has happened to me that makes me want to hang out at places like Rural King.
11. Chuck Norris doesn't sleep. He waits. This kills me.
12. Everytime I drive through Franklin County, Illinois, I think of that episode of The X-Files ("Home") and the Peacock family. *shudder*
13. There is no proper response for people trying to open the bathroom stall you're occupying. Today while stopped in aforementioned deliverance country, I started to open an occupied stall. This raised two questions: 1) What is the etiquette for such a situation and 2) Who the hell uses a public restroom without locking the door.
14. Yo Butt Aint Made Fo That (blatent link theft, nsfw, wickedly funny)


Mens Rooms Used This Month: 2
Beers: 8
Trips to the Gym: 0
Outbreaks of Nail Chewing: 1

Company Christmas Party

I drank a beer with the boss and his wife tried to set me up with her son. I called the most bear-like manager "St. Pauli Girl" because he was running around holding two pitchers of beer. Hung with the teamsters. Made friends with the wives and girlfriends. I smell like a bar.

Now I'm going to Murray. Call my cell if you're going to be in town.

"I've Never Eaten Beaver"

...and other stupid stuff I've said at work...

Yeah. So I've never eaten 'possum, 'coon, or many other woodland creatures either. And did you know that you can't eat the tail of a beaver? Well, now you do.

It's something like 12 degrees right now. I've spent the evening trying to stay warm in the cowboy blanket I brought from the parents' house and tidying up around the house. Oh why is my house the cleanest when there's little to no chance of anyone seeing it? It's a wonderful thing that tomorrow is Friday and it's been the kind of week that makes each hour seem like an eternity. By tomorrow evening, I will feel the most young and frail that I ever have at the end of a week...and just in time for the company Christmas party. Who will be the person who wears the lampshade on his or her head at the end of the night? When I'm back at work on Tuesday, who will be the person I can't help but giggle at because I know what happens when they're three sheets to the wind? I've already heard the horrific story of one of the team leaders being pantsed (or is it de-pantsed since the pants are off?) and showing "two full moons."

The Day It Became Serious

This week I realized that it's possible for people to die in my building. On my watch. To die. While working.

You work in a place long enough and not only do you know everyone, you know about them. You know where they went to school. You know the town in which they live. You know about their families. After a while you even know names and ages of children, wedding anniversaries, and the things that families go through. Sometime around then is when attachment begins to set in. Attachment is great; it builds rapport. Mutually, it makes working in a place easier because somewhere in all of that, trust is developed. Trust that I'll do a good job. Trust in others that they'll do a good job. Trust is just an all around good thing.

Attachment, in the sense that you care for people as human beings, can be bad. This is the week I realized the pitfall of having a story to go along with the names and faces in the accident reports. It was never just about the injury frequencies, the cost or the numbers. But today, it set in that it's about more than that.

If you count being in the car in the parking lot as being 'at work,' then I cried at work for the first time today. No heavy sobbing or hicupping, but plenty of pink and tear stained cheeks, rolling down uncontrollably as I drove home this evening. I looked at two head wounds today and I was fine. But on my way out to the car, I was talking to a coworker (the coworker) and in the back of my mind, I started wondering about 'what ifs.' 'What if it had been you?' 'What if the people had died?' 'What if you had died?' I thought as I wished him a good evening. It was close enough. I know the impact of an individual meeting their fate. I know who it is or isn't doesn't lessen the effect. But at the exact moment, I realized how serious all of this is and how dangerous work can be and how even though I do as much as I can in a day to keep things right that sometimes they just aren't. And I realized that I genuinely care about people. And I realized that even though I do what I can that someday it will not be enough.

Trying to pass it off as uncomfortable humor, I wished my coworker a good evening and drove up the hill with wet cheeks. I suppose this too comes along with the territory.

280 Pounds of Sand

That's the equivalent of 4 tubes of sand, you know.

There were flurries today, a lot of them. I long for the accumulation of snow. I also long to see sunlight.

"I've not seen the sun shine since...I don't know when. I'm stuck in Folsom Prison..."
I chant this as I walk into work, pre-dawn. I chant this as I walk to my car, post-dusk.

I rediscovered another person who does something similar and I fell in love all over again. And with all this similarity, I still stay rational and not that giddy. Clarity. Go figure.

I got to yell at people today, but that doesn't necessarily mean that I did. Well, I couldn't actually. I've discovered that there's something going on with me that keeps me from yelling. When forcing as much air through the lungs as possible, very little sound comes out. I've lost my outdoor voice. I do, however, now have a whistle. So what if I can't yell at people? I'll just blow at them very loudly!

...that didn't sound right, did it?

My Parents Were Banned from a Theater and Other Funny 'Cause They're True Stories

The folks are no longer welcome at the theater in Centralia, Illinois. The popcorn boy sassed my mother and she went special ed-behavior disorders teacher on his ass. The manager was involved somehow and until I get more details tomorrow afternoon, all I know is that they can't go back. My family is awesome.

So tomorrow I go home, where I'll spend time with Grandpa! and gorge myself on free-range organic, amish turkey. I learned how to kill a turkey yesterday. Actually, it was explained to me. Some of the guys in the shop were explaining that I could "go at its neck with a hatchet" or "step on the body and pull off the head." They told me that a lot of people just can't go through with killing birds though all food has to come from somewhere. However, I've been labeled as the kind of lady that can yank the head off a turkey. And even though I'm not so sure if I should be proud, I kind of am.

Last night I discovered the wonder that is "All You Can Eat Spaghetti Night" at Avantis. I was also pegged as a person who 'doesn't act like' she's 24. Once again - should I be proud? How does a 24 year old act? How do you think a 24 year old is supposed to act? But then we went to Target and I bought a slinky. I also got a tube of toothpaste, a new toothbrush, some disinfectant cleaner wipes, and some toilet paper. "You know it works because it has bears on it," I explained to Nicole. It's been so long since I've shopped with a friend that it's a chore to slow down and actually shop rather than obtain. But really, the deal with pasta night at Avanti's is quite awesome. I'm adding it to the list of places to go on Monday. Monday is apparently value food night in Peoria.

I saw Walk the Line on Friday. It's a good movie. It has that sheen of a bio-pic, but the rebel rousing of the greats back in the day is a wonderful thing to see played out onscreen. I miss those days and I never even lived in them. Put a can of Murray's on the radiator and grab me a comb, I'm feeling nostalgic.

So...Very...Cold

Thirteen degrees. That's nineteen degrees below freezing and thirteen away from zero. Baby it's cold outside.

Last night I impulse bought a two scarfs, a hat, and some gloves. I almost got a coat but one of the Target associates pointed out that the collar looked a bit large. I did, afterall, solicit her opinion and by golly, she was right. I only wear one scarf at a time, the second one came as part of a set. After doing the math, I realized I could get a scarf, hat, and gloves for the same price as just a scarf and some gloves or a scarf and a hat or for $2 more than just a hat and some gloves. I got the second scarf because it looks like the Dolce and Gabana one I've wanted since 2002. Now, let it be said that I never wanted one that was actually D&G - just one that looked like it. I consider paying $300 for a scarf to be quite vulgar. Even if I had a million dollars, I'd still shop at Target.

It's been blowing snow all day as well. By the time I made it across "campus" to the building where I typically eat lunch, I was covered in a thin layer of snowflakes. My awesome lunch of tomato soup and Coke Zero fixed that nicely. Let it be stated for the record that Coke Zero > Diet Coke. It tastes more like Coca Cola Classic but doesn't have sugar. These days I loathe sugar nearly as much as I loathe gravity.

And I don't care none too much for gravity. Or Pepsi. Especially Diet Pepsi. A lot of people drink Pepsi up here. Damned northerners. (pot.kettle.me.)

As I was leaving work sometime around 6 tonight (as what's a good day of work if I get to see the sun at a time other than my lunchbreak?), I was offered a bowl of chilli. Three bites in, I was informed it was deer chilli. Unphased, I imformed the chef that "critter fries" used to be held at my old high school, where everyone brings in squirrel, possum, deer, snake, rabbit, (or anything else that lives in the woods) and tosses it in the fry-daddy. Better go grab some dye - my dirty southern illinois roots are showing.

A Brief Conversation about Florida

"How was Florida."
"It was good times. Though if you don't come back xenophobic and slightly afraid of crowds, you haven't experienced all the tourism that state has to offer."
"What's a xenophobe?"
"One who fears foreigners."
"..."
"..."
"HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!"


Did I mention I went to a Three Dog Night concert while down there. They didn't play "Old Fashioned Love Song," but their rendition of "One" more than made up for it.

Jeremiah was a bullfrog,

KD

It's Just That Simple

I'm not afraid of many things in this world, but tonight I realized what a baby I can be when it comes to flying.

As the tiny little jet I was riding in made a sudden dip somewhere in the skies over Northern Illinois, I could feel hot tears spring to my eyes and a list of people I wanted to call during my too-long layover in Chicago. I was somewhere through the s' (alphabetically and all) when my thoughts were jolted along with the plane as it dipped to the left, turning to make its ascent. Prior to departure, the crew was trying to lure several passengers into giving up their seats due to "weight restriction" and I wanted to mentally kick myself for having "traded my life for $250 in flight vouchers, a free dinner, and a bus ride to Peoria." But I couldn't. All I could do was sit there with a blank mind, grabbing my mother's leg, and periodically muttering "holy shit" with each little dip and shake of the plane. That, and wondering just where in the heck we were because I'm the kind of person that *has* to know which cornfield she's going to land in. It can be such a small world that there's a good chance I'd know the owner.

Obviously the plane made it back to Peoria.

But Florida Was Lovely and I could pack up and move there. Like...tomorrow. There are mosquitos there. I wanted to move 'someplace nice where there ain't no mosquitoes at' and Florida only hits 50% of that criteria. Damn mosquitoes - I smashed one against the side of my face last night waiting for a bus and it splurted blood on the right side of my face. And since I was out and about without as much as a water fountain to use for clean up, I was given the only cleansing cloth to be had at that bus station: a feminine cleansing cloth. It more or less fit the definition of what I needed, having that not-so-fresh feeling and all...

I did it all Disney-style. Magic Kingdom. Epcot. MGM.

It was actually Soap Star Weekend at MGM, which meant that the park was overran with housewives and school girls, starry-eyed at the prospect of waiting in an obscenely long line to have a picture signed by their favorite actor/actress. This didn't phase me - I'm actually wellversed in the annual "Days Fest" downstate at Salem. Not so much the celebration as cursing at the traffic, etc. But well-versed in it, nevertheless. This actually worked in our favor as practically everyone in the park was there to see the soapstars and not ride the rides. Five minute wait for Star Tours ??? HECK YEAH!!!

The best part of MGM was a car stunt show called Lights, Motors, Action - which featured a 6 car chase on a soundstage, explosions, and an explanation of how the stunt cars were built. I can tell that some of work is rubbing off on me when I got incredibly excited that they popped the hood and started giving specs on what's under there. I'd tell you, but that'd ruin the movie magic, don't you think?

I'm Going to Florida

Be back sometime next week...

Ohio! Ohio! A Recap in Depth for Allison

Dear Allimon,

(This blog entry is for you.)

I dug Ohio. If I had to do it over, I would have stopped at King's Island and eaten blue ice cream and let the Beast have its way with me over and over. (But alas, Kings Island was closed).

Columbus is nice. It doesn't really feel like a college town, but OSU must be the largest thing there. The place is huge and gave me a newfound appreciation for going to a school where it was feasible to walk anywhere in 10 minutes or less. But head north of town on 71 and you're in the fancy part of town. For some reasons, I thought of the movie Heathers a lot while up there. I bet Sherwood, Ohio (if it were real) would have been somewhere north of Columbus.

I stayed downtown, amidst all the tall buildings and (come night fall) clean yet vacant streets. My first night there, I drove north on Broad street until I saw a strip mall that contained Billy Lee's Fine Chinese Cuisine, a place with good almond chicken and a cozy little bar in front. Dinner on the corporate car and a $5 on the counter for the beer and I sat in a red velvet chair that leaned way back, drinking and learning all about what to see from Billy Lee himself. I asked about OSU and he said "Why you want to see that? There not much there." Turns out, it was both quite an understatement and somewhat true all at the same time.

My room had a soft, blue recliner. Whenever I check into a hotel room, one of the first things I'll do is unpack - hanging my clothes in the closet and arranging my bottles of product on the counter. Oddly enough, when I stay multiple nights, the last thing I do before leaving the room in the morning is to put everything in the closet. Out of sight, out of mind...or what if I have to leave in a hurray? I ate all of my meals in that blue chair.

The bed was large enough to accomodate three full grown adults. I made it a point to sleep in the middle of the bed each night. For some reason, I was really wishing I had taken some porn with me. What is it about traveling and porn that goes hand in hand? Where is the association? I started and didn't finish about five letters.

Training was informative. The segment on modeling and gas dispersion alone made the whole thing worthwhile. I could go on and on about how chemicals move in air and the methods for sampling and using a standard analytical error to mathematically show results to be accurate to a degree admissible in court. But I think you'd be more apt to appreciate me telling you about having breakfast with a lady that works for John Deere and Canadian Christine and I's run-in with a drunken businessman. He wanted us to go with him to a party. You want to bet it was in his pants?

I sat next to a diabetic Christian from Oklahoma. He was awesome and had this multi-cup system set up in front of him that kept him supplied with a continuous flow of iced tea. I was literally the only person in that class that liked flavored teas. On my last day there, I had lunch with three other people, but the only one I can remember is Todd, Murray State graduate and native son of Paris, TN. The other two days, I had powernaps and leftover Chinese and California Pizza Kitchen (pear and gorgonzola) for lunch. I wore Pony Polo Shirts every day of the training as when I'm out and about, every day is "Fratty Friday."

I went to the Sephora on Polaris Parkway two nights in a row and spent entirely too much time in there painting myself with glittery makeup and spraying myself with perfumes. Monday evening I ran into one of the ladies in training, and even though we spent some time visiting that morning, she treated me like a weirdo-stranger when I (dared to) spoke to her. People are strange. I think the Sephora ladies would have given me a job on the spot. I left with a Lip Venom gloss, Bliss Fabulous Foaming Face Wash and Jonathan Product shampoo instead. I took Canadian Christine there on Tuesday. She stocked up on Benefit products. They don't sell Benetint in Canada. We bonded over our love of makeup and over once having a crush on Steven Page. I never got her card before leaving Ohio, but she has mine.

An Industrial Hygienist from the Los Alamos Nuclear Labs gave me his business card and said to me "You married? You can relocate! We have mountains! You go climbing?" I still have that card and look at it from time to time. Yes I could relocate...

I felt bummed to leave Columbus. I felt excited to be in Cincinatti. I felt relieved to be in Kentucky. University of Cincinatti has a good program. I don't know where I'll be in a few years, but Cincinatti wouldn't be that bad. WKRP or not. When I was 3, I wanted to be just like Johnny Fever.

That was Ohio. I'm glad I went.

Farewell, Night Owl Ways

I eschewed half-heartedly going out last night in favor of watching Saturday Night Live and then crawling into bed. This morning, I woke up at 8:36, erroneously thinking it to be 4:30 pm. Farewell Daylight Saving Time, we hardly knew ye.

After lying in bed (like Brian Wilson did) and watching the last third of Dogma, I decided to seek out a leisurely Sunday morning of breakfast burritos (meh) and Target, picking up glamourous items such as clothes detergent, shower curtain liners, and toilet bowl cleaner. I picked up this stuff called Kaboom, which can be used in one of two ways : Drop 1/3 capful powder into toilet bowl and let foam for a minute, scrubbing to remove dirt, then flush. Or, drop 1/3 capful powder into bowl, let foam for 10-15 minutes, then flush. The water in Peoria, containing who-knows-what, has this nasty habit of staining the bowl, so I forsee having to "kaboom" the bowl on a biweekly basis. Maybe I'll have to "kaboom" my shower curtain as well. The water in this town has stained it and I forsee having to replace this item thrice a year.

I also decided to pick up a new shower caddy. I presently have a suction-cup container overstuffed with bathing implements. Everytime I go to shower, it's moved a quarter of an inch lower. Perhaps the over-the-showerhead caddy will better hold my items without periodically dropping my overpriced shampoo on my foot. Also, I can move my razor from its dangling holder to something that won't drop it, cracking the moisturizing solid. On a side (cringe-inducing) note, I shaved off part of my fingernail last night. No amount of ridgefiller can disguise the damage done. Perhaps my asian lady can do something about this.

Yay! Ghostbusters II is on Comedy Central. /random outburst

I also picked up a decorative wall hanging for the bathroom and a clear vase and some pink-white roses for my bedroom. At first I was going to get some pure white roses, but then I recalled someone once telling me how they love white roses and that's forever ruined that flower for me. I hate it when people tell me things that become indellible in my mind, thus forever ruining something. So, from now on, ivory roses with pink accent is mine and only mine.

While walking past the cosmetics aisle, I saw that the Almay eye-color-enhancing sets were on sale: shadow, liner, and mascara all for the price of one item. The last thing I need is more makeup, but I put it in my cart anyway. I also picked up more face lotion. It's oil free and has spf 15. And older lady told me "it's guaranteed to make you beautiful." I responded with "I'm just looking for some moisture and spf." A $5.50 copy of the X-Files Movie made it into my cart as well. Everything else put in there were cleaning goods: bleach wipes, wood soap oil, detergents, and papertowels.

Finishing all of my Sunday shopping before noon brought on this oddly great sense of accomplishment.

My parents canceled their weekend plans. I'll see them tomorrow instead. This works out well as I'm feeling a tad asocial this weekend anyway. I used to *love* going out with people, but lately, I have no urge to see anyone by the time Friday rolls around. I did go to see Waiting... after work on Friday. This is a funny movie. There's not much to it and a large part of the plot is rooted in the "alien brains" gag, but I'm all for some balls-oriented humor. Check it out, it's a great way to spent 100 minutes.

Public Speaking Training

Work has enrolled me in Powerful Presentations, a course to turn me into the hoss of the public speaking ponderosa. I, a former Speech Team nerd, am having the time of my life. I'll write a more detailed account of my (mis)adventures in this class after I've finished the course and received more sleep. Some highlights of the week thus far:

I've figured out how to make something like those oriental salads from Wendy's: spinach, teriyaki chicken skewers, marzetti asian ginger dressing, mandarin oranges, almond slivers

Yesterday I was volunteering at the "Every Day is Earth Day" Conservation Program for area third graders. Little kids like me. A lot. It's pretty cool. I lost a school though - a whole school. Turns out they snuck off. I did get to high-five a Riverman hockey player while walking around the civic center. He had no teeth; it was awesome!

In Powerful Presentations class (or PP class, as I like to call it), the two engineers sitting next to me are hilarious. Part of it is the nerdy remarks they make. The other is that one looks like Peter Gibbons and the other looks like Michael Bolton. If you don't know who they are, watch Office Space, stat. So "Peter" will mention that he has a wife and then start to laugh giddily. "Michael" talks about staying up too late playing halo and how he needs a car to 'soup up' so he can 'get chicks.' I told them my engineer joke and they finished the punchline and high fived.

I bought the cadillac of flat irons this week and got a bunch of extra goodies. I forsee many days of smooth and sleek hair in my future.

Latent Anger and Letting it Go

Student told his Master that he was so angry with one who had slighted him and was amazed at his difficulty in letting go. It wasn't so much that he couldn't cease to be angry, but rather he didn't see the point in forgiveness. Master told him that he'd teach him the importance of letting go of old slights. "Go to the garden and get potatoes - one for each person that has wronged you. Bring them to me and our lesson will start," Master told his student. Student returned to him with 20 potatoes and took a seat. Handing him a burlap bag, Master instructed student to carve the name of each person he was angry with into each potato. "Place each potato in this sack and take it with you where you travel. By the week's end, you will know the importance of learning to forgive."

At week's end, student was in agony with the stench of the rotting potatoes in his bag. He asked his Master if he could rid himself of the burden of the bag. "Tell me the reason it's important to forgive, student, and you can cease to carry the bag." "Master, when I don't forgive others and release my anger, it rots and festers inside me. I carry it with me and the burden of having it becomes repulsive to those around me. It doesn't affect those that wronged me, but carrying all of this around hurts me."

...I think about this story at least twice a week. I've let go of my potatoes, but some days, I can still smell the stink on my hands.

Self Discovery

This past week, while on the road, I learned quite a few things about myself. Here are a few of them:

- I'm tidier than I thought I was.
- I can iron a shirt and pants in less than 4 minutes.
- I can put complete strangers at ease.
- I can give drunk businessmen the heisman (rejection) and they still seem to think it's charming.
- I dig Ohio and would consider moving there.
- There is no WKRP in Cincinatti. But I'd love to start one.
- I think too much, but I think that's okay.
- I'm perfectly fine with leaving lots of things unsaid because sometimes it's best to just appreciate things as they are.
- I'm most content living out of a suitcase and on the road.
- However, I still like to be able to go "home."
- I can induce lit-up faces and exclamations of "woah!"
- Sourdough bread, egg, and tomato: I dig a sandwich made of 2 of the 3 things I wouldn't eat as a kid.
- I don't have a home. I have five of them.
- I'm in love with the open road.

Lunchtime Blog

It's just easier to go up to my hotel room and hang out during the hour long lunch break than it is to wander around downtown Columbus, looking for food. True, there is a food court next door, but right now, it's much nicer to eat leftover California Pizza Kitchen, watch CNN, and blog.

Tomorrow is my last day in Columbus. I'll have no choice but to go out to eat tomorrow. I do miss eating homecooked meals. Actually, I'm getting a pretty bad case of carb face from eating out so much. I'll be living at the gym in November...but it's hard to say no to chinese take out and pizza when those are the easiest to find options and I can use the company card. At least I'm drinking diet today. Maybe I'll eat some fruit later. But the Drury Inn also has a happy hour. I get three drinks. Three!

Went to the fancy mall out on Polaris Parkway last night. Thinking about going back tonight and picking up a few more polo shirts. I have a ton of polo shirts, but a lot of them have the company logo on them. Wearing a company shirt out and about every day is a lot like wearing a letter shirt every day...after having gone alumna. Anyway, I think I have shirt displeasure because of the one I'm sporting now...it has horizontal stripes and it's pink. It was so much cuter in theory. I may as well have a sign on my belly that says "I like beer. See?"

Columbus, Ohio

I'm so glad I learned how to properly belly up to a bar a couple of months ago because tonight, I was able to kick back and enjoy a beer in style at a darling little chinese restaurant on Broad Street, somewhere in Columbus.

The restaurant is in some strip mall down the way from OSU hospital. It's decorated with ornamental dark wood partitions and deep red tones. The front of the restaurant is the lounge area. It has chairs that are large and comfortable, but give the sensation of going to toss you into the floor if you lean back to far. I did this more than a couple of times. I need to find a place like this in Peoria...a place to drink beer, watch football, and have almond chicken served to me in broken engrish.

I'm digging the hotel room. The bed is about 1.75 times the size of my full. I will make myself sleep in the center of the bed and deny my usual picking a side. This bed is all mine. I will enjoy it greatly.

Drury Inns are nice. My room came with sodas, popcorn, a 'fridge and a microwave. But I can't get the closet door to shut and that bothers me.

Training starts early in the morning. I'll give reports on how that goes.

Oh, and my hotel has a happy hour and I get 3 cocktails a night. Three. Good times ensue...

Fatigue

I'm so tired my chest feels fluffy.

Also, now accepting people to call for my legendary road trip.

Pants - dry faster. Please?

Today I got to poke a ceiling with a stick. Mama used to scold me for poking the ceiling tiles in the basement with a stick, and now I get paid to do it. Sweet!

I think I have a relationship based entirely on smiles and waves, but it works.

Lincoln, Illinois may not be *that* bad afterall...just stay the heck away from Pizza Hut on Family Nights.

Heck or high water, I'm out the door at 2 tomorrow.

Louisville, Kentucky - here I come!

Sepideh

Tonight I decided to hold a revitilization Wednesday and head over to ye olde outdoor mall for a mani/pedi. Even though I know that there's a good chance my hands will be coated in grease by the end of the week and my toes chipped up from tromping around in substantial shoes, it's worth it just to have all of the dead skin and rough spots removed. It also helps disuade me from biting my nails and chewing on the skin around my fingers. Anything that keeps my hands out of my mouth is good - especially with flu season bearing down on us all.

After an hour of bliss at the nail place, I decided to run into Borders and grab some periodicals. Magazines are the literary equivalent of a one night stand: immediately gratifying and only good in the short term. After they've been read a few times, they accumulate around the house and clutter the flow of energy in a feng shui-derailing manner. An issue of Cosmo and a Maxim later, I'm on my way out the door when I see one of the engineering supervisors from work. Our desks used to be adjacent and I truly enjoyed having her as a cubicle-mate.

Essential facts about Sepideh: she's Iranian, is a brilliant engineer, smells like Thierry Mugler Angel, and is a very warm and inviting person. I'm not sure of her age, but she has this ageless grace about her that I find fascinating. We've bonded over being women of power in a male dominated building and the interesting situations that arise as a result. When I do my monthly safety meetings, she always looks me up to see how it went with second shift as they are notoriously fussy.

She and her husband go to the coffee shop at Borders to pay bills, drink coffee, and just generally get out of the house. I took a seat at their table and ended up spending an hour (until closing time) discussing company culture and the changes that the next 5 years hold. She told me I'd be a good manager/supervisor and shared her philosophy on being an effective leader: be friendly and personable, but unwavering on the most essential matters. Use the natural air of intimidation to advantage but never get wrapped up in the idea of intimidating people. Know your stuff and respect comes from that.

What she said about intimidation really stuck with me because recently, I've felt...self-conscious about the intimidation factor that I perceive myself as carrying. I see it a little at work, but it's most profound in personal life. And as a person that's single and (admittedly) looking, sometimes I fear that I come on strong and repel people with the way I carry myself. Yet, I refuse to change because it's who I am. And I can't be a (totally) different person professionally than I am personally. With the exception of a much stronger filter and a more persistent game face, I'm the same in both worlds and it's equally effective for both.

So tomorrow, I'm going to continue to keep on keeping on and be glad I've got an ally and someone to look up to professionally within the building. It's been a good week, but running into Sepideh at the bookstore made it better.

And when leaving the mall, I saw them getting in their car - with him opening her door for her so she could enter the car first. Good job. Nice husband who looks at her adoringly. BMW. Good outlook on life. She must be doing something right. Yeah, she's awesome.

This Weekend...

-I was almost kicked in the head by a stripper.
-I drank beer and ate thai food in a parking lot.
-I received some really great hugs.
-I crawled the mall.
-I got a flu shot.
-I'm glad I met people.

Road Call

I'm going to need someone to call in a week...

I don't mean just someone to call up and say hello to. I'm talking someone that I can call at a frequency that's somewhere between periodic and routinely. I need someone to spill my soul to over a pay phone after a drink or five at a hotel bar in Columbus, Ohio. It'll be part of the process of figuring out the answer to the eternal question...what now?

There is this (romantic?) notion that I have about my impending road trip throughout the midwest and midsouth and other mid-portions of the country. Thinking about the week after this trip, I anticipate not having everything figure out, but being closer as the strange revelation of the week was: I have no idea what I want. Professionally. Personally. Spiritually. I just don't know.

So maybe - just maybe - hopping in a car and driving around...for the cost of some ridiculously expensive gas I can purchase some peace of mind and find that by meandering around I can rediscover a place in this world. All while having someone to call "home" to and let them know what I find. Home being a state of mind, having skepticism of the ability of it to be an actual place with any sense of permanence.

This vague feeling of being lost came to me Sunday afternoon while staring out a window...over foggy treetops and landscape dotted by steeples of churches, glistening as they caught the late afternoon sun. Funny how all it takes is a glimpse of home to make one realize how lost they really are.

I just hope that somewhere in those 1400 miles I can find a some new place to call my own.

Bachelor(ette) Living

Once again, I ended my day with my supervisor telling me to go home. "You can't save the world in one day," she'll tell me from time to time.

My first stop was Wee Tee, where I got an extra large bucket of balls and a driving wood. Concentrating on hitting the ball, not slicing or hooking, and seeing how far I can get it to go are great ways of clearning the mind and making the world fade away. It's as nice as hitting baseballs, though there is more thinking involved. But, as with baseball, I've found that the less I think, the better I do. Just keep my eye on the ball, take a breath, and let it go.

My next stop was the Asian Grocery Store for a beer run. I had high hopes of wasabi and other chinese/etc delicacies, but instead found the place to be thoroughly Indian. So I got these crackers that are like a puff pastry with exotic seasoning...and some rooster sauce to adorn them. Miller lite and some tamarinds rounded out my purchase. But crackers aren't a balanced meal for dinner, so I ran next door to Pizza Inn for a medium cheese.

While waiting for my pie, I decided to put a few quarters in the racing game and take a spin through Vegas and a Dinosaur jungle in a white 'vette. Though today I told one of my coworkers that I'm scared of children, I found myself having a great conversation with the 4 year old girl sitting next to me while I played the racing game. Intently watching my every turn of the wheel and shift of the virtual gears, the little blond girl sitting next to me began to cheer me on and give me curious looks when I began commenting to her about how I should have selected an automatic car. By my second (and final) round in the driver's seat, I was asking her input on the type of car I should drive and the course to attempt. I think children like me...and don't tell anyone, but I think I like them back...other peoples' children, of course.

The rest of this evening has been spent ingesting massive quantities of hot sauce and beer and watching CSI and ER. ...and Robot Chicken. Se7en ala the smurfs...smurfin' A!

How to Battle a Cold

Step One: Complain. A lot.
Some people consider kvetching about an ailmet annoying. Others have turned this into a whole genre of psychology...psychotherapy. So the next time someone tells you to quit complaining, inform them that by discussing your ailment, you are better coming to terms with it, which in terms leads to faster recovery.

Step Two: Cough. All over everything.
This is your perfect chance to get the peace and quiet that you've always wanted. Annoying coworker? Cough at him/her and watch them run. Pushy salesperson? Cough them away! The inhabitants of our increasingly germ-phobic society will be hesitant to enter your sphere of infection. Enjoy the silence while you can.

Step Three: Rub your nose raw.
Find the most abrasive material with which to dabble your runny schnoz. Today I used shop towels. The blue kind. They feel soft at first and hold a lot of snot. They were better than the tan napkins (recycled/nonbleached) that just smeared it all around my face and ripped up my delicate nostril skin. I looked "rabbity" by the end of the afternoon. BTW-"rabbity" means red rimmed eyes, pink and moist nose, and floppy haired.

Step Four: Decide to Recover. Then tell everyone.
Every day this week, I've declared multiple times in a day that I was going to "feel great tomorrow!" Has it happened? Sort of? I do feel better. And since I'm feeling attention deprived these days, I've been getting my jollies from hearing strangers say "get well soon."

Step Five: Prepare for the recovery.
After spending better than a week feeling like hell and looking even worse, ample preparation must be made for the reintroduction into non-sick society. Granted, I've faked quasi-health pretty well with a creamy (viva la Burts Bees!) concealer and given myself a pseudo-glow with my Nars Blush (Orgasm - all over my face!), I still had that lovely pallor and nice sweaty glow. CVS had lipsticks buy 1 get 1 free, so I got a couple of lovely rosy 'sticks to help perk up my face for when I'm fabulous again on Friday. It's something to look forward to and also, as I'm on the glide path to wearing kleenex boxes on my feet and building a spruce goose, I know I won't put any on my pout until I'm free and clear of disease. I do the same with my toothbrush. Getting well means getting a different toothbrush.

Tonight I nurtured my wellbeing with a trip to the outdoor mall, where I picked up another piece of Vera, got a pretzel, and walked around in the crisp night air. I strongly believe that fresh air is vital to a full recovery. Having my feet and hands buffed to perfection by my cute little asian girl was my primary objective, but alas - her shop was closed. So I sat on the floor of Borders and flipped through humor books for about a half hour. I'm amazed at what gets published these days. If a girl can write a book about all of her one night stands, I wonder what I could write about and have published...

At the Forefront of the Mind

Deep thought of the day: When constantly barraged with signifiers and momentos of things/ideas, is it a sign or the brain making an association with something that is at the forefront of the mind.

For example, if a person were thinking of moving to Texas and suddenly noticed the word "Texas" emblazoned on everything, would this be a sign that "Yes! Move to Texas!" or would it be the mind noticing the sign as the thought of Texas is presently at the forethought of the mind.

Popeyes

I found the Popeyes on Knoxville and promptly negeted a week's worth of good eating with 3 hot wings, a biscuit, mashed potatoes and gravy, and a coke. A real one. Not the diet kind.

So much for a week of wheat-free, gluten-free, yeast-free, non-cruel bread.

New Hair

I had the 'do trimmed up last night and added some long, sideswept bangs. All day I've been blowing them out of my face as I'm too lazy to just reach up there and reposition them. I haven't decided if the blowing of the hair is cute and charming or strange and irritating. The stylist told me that I'd have to "train them."

"To do what? Tricks and stuff?"
"You're going to have to train your hair to do what you want it to. Train like a pet or a boyfriend?"
"So I browbeat it until it leaves me or pees on my rug?"
"Hairspray?"

I Survived Pumpkin Fest

Every year, the sleepy town of Morton comes alive when the townspeople gather downtown to celebrate the mighty pumpkin and all that it has done for the local economy.

I decided that my H.O.I. experience would not be complete unless I partook in the festivities, so on Saturday afternoon, I met Gretchen and her fiance Mike in Morton and we proceeded to gorge ourselves with pumpkin ice cream, pumpkin chili, and anything else into which it'd be quasi-reasonable to slip some pumpkin. Tickets for the rides were $2 each and it was excessively sunny out so we hung out under the entertainment tent, watching the musical stylings of the youth of Morton.

Remember the movie Donnie Darko? Well, we were entertained by a very SparkleMotion-esque group of tweens that had the same self-assured manner that immediately made me think that if I were their age, they'd be tormenting on a daily basis. Clad in green ringer t's and jeans, they line danced, sang, and twirled around for almost an hour to an...interesting mix of songs. Let's put it this way - before the show ended, a rendition of "Wind Beneath My Wings" almost seemed imminent. However, they do get partial credit for "You Raise me Up" and ended the show surprisingly with a number about "rocking" that featured too much prepubescent pelvic thrusting to be comfortable to watch. This was surprising in that when they sang "God Bless the USA," I thought that was it.

We walked around the fair a bit, had some more ice cream, and did shots of whiskey under a tree in someone's backyard before returning to the entertainment tent to watch "Kenny Rogers" and "Dolly Parton" (cross dressing? how original!) sing "Islands in the Stream." I mock it, I do, but yet I still went up to the stage and snapped a picture on my camera phone.

Speaking of my phone, is anyone else as annoyed by the classical music it plays when someone tries to call? I'm begining to think that people are going to stop calling because of that music. At first it was ironic and funny...in a Bentley Fonzworth kind of way. But now it's just bizarre.

Anyway, after a day at the "cleanest street fair ever" we reconvened at Hoppers for beer and pizza doused in rooster sauce. Some guy in a red sweater came up and started talking to me...and then wouldn't shut up. He explained to me that he hates being so fat and pimply but it doesn't matter because he knows so much about transmission that he's worth millions but doesn't want to work for anyone because then the ideas would cease to be his. He also told me that he's a college drop (but it doesn't matter as he's worth millions). When I asked him where he went to school, he told me Illinois Central College. (Harvard on the Hill.) This wouldn't have been so funny if he had only said once...or even twice. The rest of the evening was pretty mellow. I'm thinking about trading in my beloved bottles of Budweiser for something different as beer tasted metallic to me.

The evening ended trimming some guy's arm pit hair and then heading off to La Bamba for the ritualistic post-drinking nachos. Feeling gross from the pizza, pumpkin, metallic beer, and Dr. Pepper, I abstained yet thoroughly enjoyed the Rev. happily eating nachos. Seriously, it's been a while since I've seen someone so happy to have nachos. Then again, it's been...never since I watched someone grab a handful of their pubic hairs and toss them on metrosexuals passing by.

So in conclusion, Pumpkin Fest was all right. It needed a beer tent, but it was still good times.


Sunday

Sunday morning, I woke up and decided to have a productive day. I started the day with a drive around town and ended up at the Taco John's in East Peoria as I was in the area and feeling nostalgic for a churro. On a side note, everytime I drive through East Peoria, I swear I can hear Sam Kinison screaming. (Oh OOOOWWWWWWOOOHHHH!)

Not wanting to stay up late Sunday night, I actually had most of my laundry finished by 5 before heading out to clean up Canyonero and then go to the gym. I really wanted it to rain last night, so I washed my car twice (don't ask).

I also found one of the homiest streets in America. While driving down Forest Hill Drive, I found myself on this tree lined street dotted with brick houses, all of which had the porch light on, giving the neighborhood a warm and inviting glow. The air smelled of wood and late afternoon barbeque. It smelled like football season and I immediately longed to live on that street...somewhere between Sheridan and Knoxville...even a day later, I want to call this place home.

Lately I've found myself eyeing this house on Glen and I find myself taking a different route to work so I can look at it and mentally place chairs and grills on the deck above the garage. Never did I expect that I'd get moderately excited about the thought of owning a home. I find myself thinking about settling down more often than I used to, but if I allow myself to think this long enough, something will happen making it very apparent that I shouldn't. It's just not in my design. And I still can't grasp the concept of living someplace longer than 11 months at a time.

However, last night I came home sweaty from the gym, frappuchino in hand, waved at my new neighbors (The Europeans!), and went upstairs to watch some Reservoir Dogs and curl up in my leather chair. So what if I have too many locks on my doors and can't yet put a grill on my roof? Life is still as comfortable as it needs to be right now.

The Audit is Over

...but what now?

EDIT FOR CLARITY:

The audit of my building is over. I still have to go to all of the wrap up meetings on Monday. However, I get to meet someone who reports to the CEO so that's good times right there. I'm also consulting on chemical management in another building, so if the auditors are brave enough to step back into that building, I'll be over there too. All clear now?

I really do wish I were in Murray right now.

Life is Better 6 Inches Off the Ground

So my building is being audited tomorrow...and I can't wait for it.

After months of preparing and running around trying to 'fix' everything, I'm resigned to let the chips fall where they may. I'm proud of all the progress made in my building and am going to give myself mad credit for getting us there.

Pumpkinfest is this weekend. Just knowing that this time tomorrow night, I'll be giddy from beer and pumpkin products brings a smile to my face. Every day (actually, several times a day), I get excited about the festival whenever I apply more pumpkin scented lotion. I've taken to keeping a bottle in my desk so that when my hands are dry or I just feel like it, I can lotion up with pumpkin scented goodness. The top cubby of my desk has been converted into short term paper storage and creature comforts. It currently includes a coffee cup, some sodas and granola bars, a package of burts bees goodies and my beloved lotion. And when it's not in use, my iPod goes n there too.

Someone looked me up on the corporate directory to find out where my new desk is located so that a visit could be paid...this made my week. Usually people come by to complain or kvetch at me or to make requests or drop off mail, not give me the kind of smile that permanently burns itself into my brain. This...this has been a good week.

Rants...Mainly Rants

I feel like this past week has been one very strange dream. Labor day sucked. This week...yeah, it sucked. Is it bad that the best day I had this week (not counting Saturdays, those are 'free days') was Friday, when I worked from around 8 in the morning until 10 at night. I now know exactly when the hvac system and lights go off at work.

Friday...I wrote a large portion of the industrial hygiene program for my division. (Industrial hygiene is not a fancy word for maintenance or for personal cleanliness...consider it the art and science of wtf-ology applied to protecting people of invisible hazards floating around in the air. It's a physics and chemistry thing.) I must give myself mad props for being able to create over 5 quasi-involved forms and the procedures for how to use them in a little under 3 hours. I must also give my supervisor mad props for buying us dinner at Carlos O'Kelly's in recognition of our hard work in preparing for our upcoming audit. (Starts tomorrow!) And finally, props go out to Dave Grohl, who apparently moonlights at the Peoria Steak and Shake on War Memorial, for making damn.good.steakburgers and tasty shakes. I love his grilling as much as I love The Colour and the Shape. I also love how the air conditioner in my apartment broke sometime Friday. Nothing like waking up on Saturday morning to find that it's 90 degrees in the abode.

I spent some time talking to Allison while I stood in front of the freezer...well, my head was in it..eating popsicles and only in my underwear. Hot.

...But not as hot as the black initial on the bottom boyshorts, tiny blue stripe sweater and dirty librarian eyeglasses I'm sporting right now.

I gave karoke a try last night at ye olde little bar in Morton. YMCA! Nick and I were supposed to sing 'Free Fallin' after chugging some jaeger bombs, but that song didn't work, so we had to pick a new one. I was supposed to sing 'Like a Virgin' with the two loveliest ladies in the bar, but it all shut down before we had the chance. Oh well - perhaps next time.

And, in what is starting to become a Saturday night ritual, it all ended in LaBamba down by Bradley with the Rev, eating tacos and waxing philosophical. Only we were wearing each other's hats. Sorry man, there's only one person in this world that looks as good in that hat as I do and I don't know where he is these days. It's like he's disappeared off the face of this earth. Where, oh where, have all the good greasers gone?

So our corporate audit starts tomorrow. I'm preparing by downing 3-4 white russians in hopes of knocking myself out. Tomorrow I must kick massive amounts of ass all while feeling sick (and it's not because of the alcohol). But, if I have to be sick in the morning, better this reason than the alternative. And I'm listening to Cake right now too. They make everything good. But of the three person team giving us the once-over, I'm only afraid of 2/3 of them. The corporate ergonomist...we had training together a few weeks ago. If we had gone to college together, I think we would have been drinking buddies.

I bought a new bottle of perfume this weekend. 'Fantasy' by Britney Spears. I can't believe that I would have ever wanted to smell like Britney Spears, but the heady mix of vanilla creme, jasmine, and kiwi was too much to resist.

Plans for this week include: goal of 3 days at the gym, vacuumed carpets, packing for Murray (home sweet home), and spending more time with the Tao Te Ching. While up here, I'm not surrounded by people that draw me back to center, but this text helps. Until then, I'll crawl into bed, close my eyes and feel the warmth of white russian coursing through my veins. And I'll repeat to myself...tomorrow will be great. Tomorrow will be great...

Mexi-ranch and Mama: Two Things that Keep the World Spinning

Tonight, as I made the drive from tiny.little.lake.town back to Peoria, I realized that the car in front of me belonged to my Mama, who was driving back to Springfield to work for the week.

Right now, I must stop this story to interject with two things: 1) I never knew I had a "Mama" until I lived in Kentucky and 2) my family is temporarily fractured by the fact that Mama has to live in-district for her job and house in said tiny.little.lake.town has yet to be unloaded. In short, my parents don't live together Monday-Friday, but try not to read too much into that.

Anyway, when I realized that she was piloting the car ahead of me, I called her on the phone and we had a nice cell-phone and SUV caravan up the state, finally stopping at the good Applebee's in Springfield for a meal of onion soup, appetizers, and of course...mexi-ranch.

The beauty that is mexi-ranch...salsa and ranch dressing in harmonious co-existence...it's truly one of my favorite things in the world. I don't remember some of college, but by-God, I remember the mexi-ranch. Eating it in celebration; drowning sorrows in the stuff; enhancing a great, great meal; having it as part of a bonding moment. The greatest friendships I've ever had have been cemented and sealed in a glob of mexi-ranch.

So Mama and I are sitting in a booth, eating mexi-ranch and drinking the caffinated drinks we had sworn off weeks ago, laughing at how fate has had its way with us. She shared with me her disappointment that at 50, she's living a vagabond lifestyle for a job and that Grandpa! is becoming increasinly difficult in his increasing age. I saw Grandpa! today - impatient to have his hair cut correctly, he shaved it all off. With his pointy ears and wrinkled forehead, he could pass for the cousin of Yoda...who incidentally is the being that I aspire to be like, a fact I shared with my Mama this evening. Yoda is at peace with himself and harmony with the world, seeing things as they are and accepting things as they come, always striving to be one with the force, yet will beat ass when necessary to preserve the way of the force. I'd presume there are way worse ways to exist. I told her about my misadventures in dating and then she let me know that I should "give marriage a try" but do it on my own terms. She also told me that I'd do well by marrying one of my friends and gave me a specific name as suggestion. I told her that we'd see...we'd see...

I suppose it sounds cliche, but my Mama is one of my best friends. Her world view and ambivilence toward "major issues" is admirable and amusing. More often than not, she tells me what I need to hear and not what I want to hear. Once, I called her after a test-gone-wrong crying about my inability to do math. She told me to suck it and stick it out and go get help. I got an A in that class. She kicks my ass when I need it. She gives me support when I need it too.

Mama and I are close. I hope we always are. But it never hurts to ensure that the mortar and bricks that hold us together are fortified with mexi-ranch.

Hipsters in the Night

For starters, I got drunk on a "school night" (used to be literal, now the figurative term for one of the big five days of the week) twice this week. I endured ergonomics training. My desk was rearranged and just generally trashed, and the fellow who now sits behind me tried to decorate his area with my stuff. Yes, all the desks in TC-L come with marked up calendars and files on hydrogen safety and near miss recording.

There's this bar in the Metro Centre that has free pizza on Monday nights. This part also contains a husky voiced, white haired bartender with a pronounced brick red line around her brick red mouth and a middle aged man named Ray that reeks of CK-One and told me that at age 24, I'm "too damn old" for him. He looked at me and then looked at my coworker and said (pointing to him) "You must work on engines" and (pointing to me) "You must answer the phones." Well, if you want to break down our basic job functions, yes he is right. I'll go back one of these days if I'm brave enough and have the proper company.

The other drinking experience was last night on my balcony, drinking Miller and Blue Moon with the Rev. Thursday was grim but that helped. Also getting my box of goodies from Mario helped. I slathered my face in something called "whitening mask" and have been enjoying skin that's less marred by hyperpigmentation. Then I covered myself in "super emollient apricot body moisturizer." Then I ran around the house nude with the ac on full blast. I love living by myself. Though I have to warn everyone who steps foot in my house that I've probably sat on every couch, chair, countertop while not wearing pants at least twice.

I've been preoccupied with the idea of Bettie Page today. Well, more specifically, I've been thinking about how much (twisted?) fun it would be to dress up in a Bettie-manner and prowl the streets of Peoria. Okay, it'd be fun for me, horrific for everyone else who is not blind. But that could be my "out and about" persona. Just imagine...sensible safety woman by day, bondage queen with black hair and bangs by night. I can just hear the crack of the whip now...

Other preoccupations for the week:
-The idea of going out into a corn field and shooting guns.
-Pumpkin scented lotion from Bath and Bodyworks.
-Chocolate Fondue lip gloss from B&BW.
-My newly cut and highlighted non-sexually repressed bob. It's now redder, bigger, and shaggier. I've been styling it by driving with the windows down and moon roof open in order to get the look of having just had a roll in the hay, without the fun of having done so, of course.
-Gov't Mule. (Deja Voodoo, track #5: Slackjawed Jezebel...wow!)
-People I used to know that loved Gov't Mule and had many stories about the "old" days at MSU. We're talking early 90s here. Whatever became of this person?
-That scene in Kill Bill vol. 2 where Uma tells Bill that "You and I have unfinished business." From the moment where she tucks her daughter into bed and heads down the hall for the final confrontation to the hugging of the lion on the bathroom floor, I feel a lump in my throat because...it just captures the feeling of sneaking out into the night to crucify the ones you loved.
-The musical stylings of Richard Cheese and Lounge against the Machine.
-Greaser boys with skinny asses.
-My favorite color of the week: hot chocolate/warm cocoa.
-The perfect cup of coffee.

First Solo Weekend in Peoria

Well, I finally did it. I spent the weekend up here by myself - no visitors, no road tripping, no one other than myself stepping foot into my apartment.

Though earlier, I thought the fire department may have been darkening my door as this weird, smoky smell filled my living space. It quickly disipated and all I can figure is that a neighbor severely burned something in the oven because that seemed to be the predominant component of the smell. Crisis averted.

I did go out this weekend. Due to the wonder that is the internet, I made the aquaintence of one Reverend Jeremey and his band of sons. This weekend's adventure took me to a bar in Morton, where I drank an indeterminant quantity of beer and some jager, on to some place called TNT in East Peoria that featured a Zepplin cover band and a barmaid with "jowels" and then back into Peoria, where the night ended screaming along with Whitesnake's "Here I Go Again" with the Rev. himself. Sometime around 3, I returned to my apartment reeking of bars and carrying a half dozen Dunkin' Donuts. Best night out I've had in a while.

Today was spent wandering the mall and people watching. An uber-Victoria's Secret opened in the indoor mall, so I spent some time painting myself up in there before picking up a cheap jacket (yay coupons) at Famous Barr. It's cord, of course, and it's red. So now, between my bachelorette pad and my hot red jacket, I'm going to get so much tail. Not really, but it sounds cool to say.

Recruitment went well. I heard the alphas are gorgeous and everyone is really happy. At first, I was kicking myself for not going down to Murray for Bid Day, but at the same time, I'm glad I didn't...something about living in the present and just stepping back and letting them have their moment. That, and I'm convinced I would have jinxed everything. Yes, in the ultimate display of superstition, I'm convinced that my mere presence would cause everything to fall apart. So one could argue that by not being there, I was helping...and getting imperical evidence that the world still turns when I'm not there (yes, I may be *that* self-centered).

This weekend, I also discovered that while warm pants out of the dryer is the ultimate in luxury, hot pants with hot rivets out of the dryer will burn you. I have two small spots on my hips where pants fresh from the dryer have gotten the best of me. Nothing like hopping into a pair of pants and then limping around the apartment going "ow ow ow!"

I also remembered why I no longer drink sugary sodas. Had two Dr. Peppers earlier and I just feel gross. Seriously - sugar water may drip out of my pores the next time I sweat.

And as the final point in this weekend update...I'm ready for fall. It's my favorite season. Right now, the windows are open, the fans are on, the air is off. I've got some pumpkin scented lotion on deck and I'm ready to enjoy all things associated with autumn. It's 60 degrees right now and it'd better stay that way because the summer clothes are going into storage and I'm ready for coats and flannels. Bring on the cider. Bring on the Pumpkin-Fest. Bring on the cool nights. I'm ready to fall into a new season.

Public Speaking

Every time I have to stand in front of a group of people and give a presentation, I always wonder what would happen if I just stood there and purposefully wet myself. It wouldn't be a form of protest nor would it be out of lack of self control. Consider it yet another social experiment. Though I still haven't decided what comes after the purposeful wetting - this is the primary reason why I have yet to do this. See, every action must have a followup plan. Most people only plan up to the act, but rarely think of which appropriate post-plan execution action to take. Thus far, all I have is laugh like an idiot and then proceed to give speech/presentation. But then what? Do I excuse myself from the room? Do I return to my seat and act as if nothing happened? Sure, it'd be warm at first, but then my pants would be cold and itchy - neither of which are good things. And what of the fallout from such an action? Chastised by peers? Reprimanded by supervisor? Worst of all, banished from the cool kids table in the lunch room?

All of this is simply too much to ponder. So when I must give a presentation, I just go to the podium and do it, supposing that the world will never know how to react should I purposefully pee in my pants as I'll likely never do it. That's not to guarantee that one day I won't sneeze and pee my pants or cough and pee my pants...there are endless possibilities to how such an event could unfold. Until then, I'll continue to relieve myself of any nerve pee before a presentation of any sort. But it won't be to prevent accidents - it'll be so the temptation won't be there.

Life, According to Mel

A paraphrase of this afternoon's conversation out in the shop.

"Why you spend so much time here at work."
"Maybe if you find me a nice boy to go home to, you won't see my mug around here so much."
"There are some awfully good ones on second and third shift."
"Gee Mel, that doesn't work so well with my schedule."
"Now I'm sure you know that a husband won't make your life complete. There's a time and a place for everything and it all happens when you least expect it and don't count on it happening. And enjoy alone time. You can do what you want when you want and you don't have to take responsibility for anyone but yourself. Except for my dog and my cat. But have you ever looked at cats? Boy, they have it all figured out. They live in the moment. Those are independent-those cats. We should all be like the cats."
"Who feeds your cats when you're gone?"
"A cat, you can put out a litter box and a few days worth of food and they're set. No one takes as good care of my cat as me."
"I had this yellow tom cat that would scratch me when we left him at the vet while gone on vacation."
"I bet he pissed all over everything too! Tom cats are pissers!"
"Once he got sick and sprayed."
"My cat has never pissed or shit or puked on anything. He does that outside."
"I wish mine had."
"Cats have it all figured out. And one day you'll meet someone nice because there's a lot to do in Peoria. You just need to go to some singles places. But look out for people, they'll use you every way to Sunday. Be sure their intentions are good."
"You're right."
"Friendships are better than relationships because friendships change and that's okay. When things don't work in relationships, you're left feeling violated."
"..."
"So I just go to bars and I sit at the bar when I want to talk to people and sit at the bar. I sit at a table when I want to sit at a table. I need people in my life but not a person. But it'll happen when it's meant to. And there's a lot to do in Peoria."
"Well, have a good one."
"Welcome to Illinois!"

Mental Slugs

The other night, I had this dream that I decided keep some slugs and snails for pets. I'm not entirely sure what happened that made me dream about slugs and snails, but it was most interesting, neverthless. In my dream, I went to the pet store, bought some slug and snail bedding, foot, housing, and toys for my new snails and slugs. The critters seemed somewhat happy in their slug/snail housing, but I'd frequently catch them longing for the outside world, so I let them loose to wander around my house freely. Soon, I'd see all of these trails of ooze and slug/snail pellets littering my house and staining my furniture. And even though I could follow the oozing trial to find the slugs, I started accidentally stepping on them. I could feel the squish beneath my feet and the liquid and slime flow between my toes and even though it was quite gross, I was too sad that I had killed the slugs to be disgusted. I did not, however, feel bad about looking at the snails and consider making escargot.

Measurement

One of these days, I'm going to take a ruler, lay it on the table, place my arm next to it, and draw little marks for every inch. Why am I doing this? I have absolutely no concept of distance. Over the past few days, I've tried 'eyeballing' distances and the reaction I get is just...incredulous that I'll look at a 10 foot gap and declare it to be "oh, about six feet." And I'm being serious. It's like I have no spacial concept. I've never been good at judging distances - I guess that's why I'm so popular with the boys.

Canyonero v2.0

Pictures are coming soon. It's sweet!

We're Going on Vacay!

[23:30] apiangelic: I love these "hoveround" commercials...two old ladies sitting at the edge of the Grand Canyon in their hoverounds...
[23:31] KDsparky17: i want one
[23:31] KDsparky17: i'll get one and ride it around recruitment while wearing great big sunglasses
[23:31] KDsparky17: 'cause i'm old!
[23:31] KDsparky17: and fabu!
[23:31] apiangelic: me too...wanna sit on the side of the grand canyon with me?
[23:32] KDsparky17: only if we can through hot dogs into it and giggle
[23:32] KDsparky17: at the symbolism of what we're doing
[23:32] apiangelic: of course!!! LOL

Brain Food

History and Philosophy of Taoism
Tao Te Ching by Lao Tzu
Stranger than Fiction - Chuck Palahniuk
On the Road - Jack Kerouac
The Zombie Survival Guide - Max Brooks

Eargasm

Wilco - Yankee Hotel Foxtrot
Wilco - Summerteeth

I Went to the Grocery Today

2 bags of Spring Mix Lettuce
Raspberry Vinegarette Dressing
Italian Shaved Turkey
Lemon Pepper Shaved Turkey
Provelone Cheese
Honey Turkey Ham, Sliced
A small loaf of multigrain bread, european style
Strawberries
Organic Veggie/Corn Pasta
Blue Moon Beer, 6 bottles (and I wasn't carded)

Chemotherapy for the Soul

The weird thing about some medicines is how sick they make you in the process of rendering you well...

Chemotherapy - the use of toxic materials to kill cells en masse. At times the cure seems worse than the disease but then one day, the cancer just stops and the body can then begin to renew itself and here's to a healthy and hopeful future.
This is all true for sickness and disease but what about the people that we know?

If a person can be a cancer on your soul - a persistent stain, multiplying and growing until you feel you'll be eaten from within by having been merely exposed to their existence - why can't a person be the chemotherapy. The one that makes it all goes away, but yet manages to simultaneously lay waste to everything in its path.
True, feeling better and having all memory of the original stain wiped clean, but in the aftermath you realize that while not as indelible as the last person, the chemotherapy creature had the same effect on your state of mind as napalm on a field of vegetation.

Perhaps it's just not chemo at all, but rather methadone for heroin. It's just another bad thing for a bad thing. Substituting one pain for another...
But then again it may be all in the head - a result of being conditioned to think that nothing is right unless something is wrong.

What Won't Make Me Sneeze

adopt your own virtual pet!

I've Created Hell

General asshats
Circle I Limbo

Goths
Circle II Whirling in a Dark & Stormy Wind

Greens
Circle III Mud, Rain, Cold, Hail & Snow

collar poppers
Circle IV Rolling Weights

NAMBLA Members
Circle V Stuck in Mud, Mangled

River Styx

Parents who bring squalling brats to R-rated movies
Circle VI Buried for Eternity

River Phlegyas

Creationists
Circle VII Burning Sands

Scientologists
Circle IIX Immersed in Excrement

Republicans
Circle IX Frozen in Ice

Design your own hell

Longest Workday Yet

Worked from 5am to 7pm. I'm not too tired right now, though I know I should go to bed. I'll get tired to a point and then I'll sort of hit a stride. Really need to start packing for the trip. Maybe...black tshirt, floral skirt, blue jeans, a couple of tshirts, and some pajamas. Shorts and tshirt maybe.

I'm being sent to Prohibitive Harassment training tomorrow because a) I've been harassing people and thus *have* to go, or b) it's required of all managerial employees.

My nose has been itching terribly all week. Sometimes I'll rub at it until I think it's going to bleed. Not congested nor is it even runny. It just itches.

Today...

Today it rained.

Today...

...I made a new friend.
...fish was for dinner.
...canary 'white out' was discovered. Is it still 'white out' if it's yellow?
...someone gave me a ride in a golf cart because it was raining and I was standing on the sidewalk with my thumb out.
...the road was closed and it took an extra 30 minutes to get to work.
...good times were offered to me and I realized I may still have it. Whatever it is.
...I realized I'll never hear from you, you again.
...the bed wasn't made before leaving the house.
...was the shortest long day ever.
...the dryer didn't dry fast enough.
...green was my favorite color.
...was a Dre day.
...was a second day hair day, but no one noticed.
...the phrase "pee pee canteen" made me squirt water out of my nose.
...the Rolling Backpack! was given a vacation.
...I didn't want to sleep for fear of missing something.

Today it rained.

I Put Younger Girls in Trances

Lately, I notice younger girls observing me. I'll be pushing my cart through Cub and I'll see a tween watching my every move. While picking out my newest fall jacket - velvet/cord hybrid in a deep wine color - a girl and her mother and watching me and talking about the jacket, then later the girl telling me about getting ready to start her sophomore year at Richwoods High. I'm walking through Target with my basket and the teen girls are watching me sniff the shampoo. I talk them out of buying cream to powder foundation that masks their clear(er than they think) skin and into getting a tinted moisturizer instead.

All of this makes me wonder what's so darned fascinating. I really don't mean this in a self-centered way either. Apparently I'm rather noticeable. I've always been rather cogniscent of those around me, often trying to discern what I can about others through observation. Maybe in a larger area there are more people like me? Or maybe the girls look at me and think maybe they'll turn out okay too. But what if they look at me and make mental notes of what not to do...

Retail Love, July Edition

1 (aforementioned) wine colored velvet/cord hybrid blazer
4 (on sale!) bottles of bath wash from Bath & Bodyworks: "soothing" vanilla soy, C.O. Bigelow Almond, Cherry Blossom, Raspberry Vanilla...
1 tube of Flirt! She-Devil Lipgloss

I got a haircut today too. It's a non-sexually repressed bob with long layers.

I also fell off the diet wagon today, eating a Culver's Butter Burger. But I didn't get cheese on it and it was only a single burger - very thin. It didn't taste very buttery.

Absent

I rarely hear of people anymore. About once a day I wonder if I've scared them away with my words. My perfunctory ramblngs on the mundane has made them realize that they're a waste of bandwidth? Overly busy perhaps...

Night Terror

Regardless of where I am, I get "freaked" out by my apartment every now and then. Last night, I was convinced that I saw an "axe-murderer" standing in my hallway. About 5'9, caucasian, shaggy dark brown hair, scraggly beard, holding the axe in the left hand, not quite 'all there' in the eyes. Looked a bit like Mick Foley...

I slept with my door closed and locked. No matter how at peace I feel, I'm always terrorized at night by something and oddly enough, it's always in my mind. If I would have had somewhere else to sleep last night, I would have gone there.

Wedding Crashers

Go See It! Now! What are you waiting for? Go!

"It's too late/tonight/to drag the past out into the light" - "One," U2

Every once in a while when it's too late and I have too much time on my hands, I open up old chat transcripts and read over them. It's not that I consciously save all of my transcripts so much as I never changed the default setting from trillian so that it wouldn't save.

It's come in handy at times. Directions to houses. Phone numbers. Using words as nails for crucifying someone. Drawing conclusions and making inferences. Self-torture. Self-soothing. Remember that at one time, someone gave a damn. Having a good laugh. Learning lessons.

I open a window, browse the words and feel the air slowly leaving my chest, but not through my mouth. It's like a sucking chest wound and not even a plastic bag can keep my lungs from collapsing. The pen is mightier than the sword, but what about the word processor. I'm impaled into my chair in Times New Roman. I'm not pierced by scornful words or observations that hurt because they're true, but by the chat sessions where I'm told of the good qualities that I posess. Word by word, my heart is broken all over again. Perhaps it's devestating even when positive simply because the truth hurts?

Most of my conversations read really good on the screen. This means that not only are most of you surprisingly good looking, you're quite eloquent too. Except for you jerks who pollute my screen with a plethora of "lol's," "oic's" and "how r u's?" You bastards.

Ultimately, I'd have to say that having the transcripts are better than not having them. They're a valuable resource on night's like tonight when I'm at a roadblock in the progression of thinking up characters and how they act, react, etc. What better way to develop a character study than to actually sit down and study a bunch of characters...

I will be in Murray, Kentucky on Friday, July 29th.

Crazy Idea of the Night

I woke up from a nap earlier and started toying with the idea of taking an abnormal psychology course at Bradley. Such a setting is the only place I can think of off the top of my head where it is appropriate to sit around discussing the confused and/or depraved. Well, I can do this at my parents' house. They've both taught courses in it. We were watching The Aviator this weekend and Mom told me that Howard Hughes probably had psychomotor seizures because of his ticks where he'd start repeating the same words again and again, like a broken record. When people have psychomotor seizures, they become fixated on ideas, words, objects. She once had a student in her class that would become fixated with shiny objects and shoes. Once, he had a 3 hour psychomotor seizure and unraveled his entire shoe, thread by thread during the course of it. The human mind is an amazing thing.

More Proof that there IS a God

The longer I'm at my job and find out things about near misses, features of my building, the stuff that goes on, etc, the more I realize that there just HAS to be a God. That's the only way of explaining why no one has died, the building hasn't blown up, people haven't been grievously injured. It's by the grace of God that's it's just not one big smoking hole in the ground. And it's not just my facility. Mine is really safe. Many people and I work hard to keep things as safe as can be. It's for anywhere. The more I learn about mechanical and structural engineering, the more amazed I am that even when all fail-safes are bypassed and controls begin to fail that nothing bad has happened. It's just...amazing...

Tuna Salad

1 can extra-cruel tuna (now with extra dolphin)
2 tsp wasabi and mayo (i think it's helmans that makes this)

Drain tuna, put in bowl. Add wasabi-mayo and stir. Eat alone or on top of Socialble Crackers.

Sex on Wheels

Yesterday morning, after my supervisor saw me stuffing all of my audit files and laptop into my laptop case, she told me that she was going to get me a different bag. Well, being the girl that I am, I immediately went giddy with the thought of a brand new bag. Seriously, tell a girl you're getting her a bag and she'll just go irrational - remember that boys.

Anyway, after the meeting, we stopped by the safety store, where I immediately begin tinkering with the displays. And I heard her charging the bag to EH&S (Environmental Health & Safety), then I turned around to see my new bag, which is supposed to be better on my back and more comfortable to carry. My brand...new...ROLLING BACKPACK.

I have to admit - it's pretty great because it holds most of my stuff. I'll no longer get petechiae on my shoulders from carrying the old laptop bag. I won't have to worry about it falling off my shoulder...the manager of fuel systems made fun of it. I saw the cute british guy walking down the hallway and I hid so he wouldn't see me with my rolling backpack.

I think this is some sort of karmic retribution for all of those mean comments I made about the non-trads and their rolling backpacks. "This isn't an airport!" Wanting to run up and kick their bags. Pointing and laughing. It's all coming back to me tenfold. But who knows - maybe I'll be able to start a new trend here. I'm young, I'm stylish, I have a backpack that rolls. It'll be the new hotness...