Wide-Eyed is All I Can Do

I caught a glimpse of myself in a plateglass window and realized that when I'm "into" someone, all I can really do is look at them all wide-eyed. It's a combination of the facial expressions I do when shopping at Sephora, ordering cheesecake, buying shoes, looking at tools at Sears, and anticipating really good news...and have just been given a keg of really good beer.

There are all of these words in the English language that are used to describe a person trolling for booty. Lusty. Randy. Horny. Aroused. But why is it so hard to sum up in a single word what a person is feeling when they've got it for someone. I'm talking the kind of got it when someone realizes that their entire existence would be made by being able to walk up to him and put the head under his chin. The kind when talking to him makes you realize that all the tears shed over the unworthy were pointless because there are much better men out there. It's the kind of feeling when you really want to get to know a person and let everything else that comes along with it just fall into place.

But my big issue is now knowing what to do other than being wide-eyed. It's so easy to aggressively seek things - promotions, positions of power, etc, but how does one aggressively seek matters of the heart? The biggest problem with free will is that you can't *make* others want to reciprocate feeling. I'm scared of coming on too strong but at the same time I know that I have to put myself out there and send signals...it's a fine line to walk. The more I think about it, this person has pretty much everything I think is awesome in another human being. And if it works, that's awesome because I'm pretty sure this boy would be one of the greats. And we all know how I adore the greats. But until I figure out just what to do, I'll continue to look at him like he's a rack of Craftsmen tools at Sears.*



*Though on direction of Allison, my very own personal Hitch, I'm to be girlie around this boy, so I'll look at him like a display of Nars lipstick at Sephora.

Wicked Wednesday

This morning, I woke up to an unusually bright bedroom and feeling very odd about an evening of vivid and lurid dreams just experienced. I won't go into too much detail about it, but all experienced in dreamland was an amalgum of retail, bear fights, and other sensations. Upon first waking, I was thinking of the ocean but soon realized that the sound of running water was actually my private bath toilet running wild. Call Father Marin - we need an exorcism.

Actually, part of the flushing mechanism is going out and water is being pulled down because there's not a good seal. One of these days, I'll stop trying to fix it myself and call the maintenance person. Until then, I try to make it stop and have actually shouted at the toilet to "shut up!" This is even more futile and ridiculous than that time a frog got into my apartment and I opened the front door and shouted at it to "get out of my house!" while pointing at the door. The frog just looked at me like "yo, I'm a frog, this is funny."

Two more days of work...and this afternoon, I made five different slide shows. I'm almost as tired of powerpoint as I am of hearing myself speak. Sometimes I want to splice in questionable pictures and sayings (Only safety glasses can protect you from a Chuck Norris roundhouse kick to the face!) for the slideshows that other people will be using but don't actually look at before presenting. However, I never get tired of coloring my opinon of the science of beating the odds with offbeat and grim anecdotes. Or trading stories about people getting shot in the eyes with lasers. Or talking about killing critters with gardening tools, smoking out groundhogs...

I had an engineer approach me and tell me that he had a safety issue because there was a mouse in the console room.

"There's a mouse in the console room."
"Well did you kill it?"
"No."
"Did you catch it?"
"..."
"You want me to go down there and get it for you? Just give me a minute and I'll be down there with a broom."
"Um...can I put in a Safety Observation."
"Just put in a Safety Work Order. Call WGI helpdesk and tell them you need someone to get rid of a mouse for you."
"What if it chews through my wires?"
"That's why you call someone to get rid of it for you."

I'll admit - it would have been funny to have gone after a mouse with a broom. It would be akin to that time with the consulting firm when we had wasps in the financial office and I had to go in after them with a can of bug spray and a fly swatter. And after the wasps had been terminated, I had to climb under a desk to retrieve the bodies because the boss wouldn't be satisfied until she saw the dead wasp bodies.

After work, I went home with every intention of working out, but cereal and America's Next Top Model got the best of me. Veronica Mars isn't too bad of a show either. Kristen Bell is pretty hot too, but I read in Maxim that she has a "wonky" eye and she's also a Detroit Red Wings fan...not too sure we can work with that. Did some mild tidying to the house and pen and ink drawing before taking out the trash and breathing in the soy-corn-fermentation scented air (it smells like beer. a lot) and sitting in my car. I just sat out in the parking lot in my car for a good five minutes, enjoying the new car smell still retained and the cold night air. It's been months since I've had such an enjoyable time just chilling out in a car. No radio, no company, no nothing. Just me and the cool night air. And then one of the best songs ever, Sophie B. Hawkin's "Damn, Wish I was Your Lover" as I pulled into the garage. Bills for the mail in the front passenger seat, new bottle of water ready for tomorrow's commute, an old favorite mix cd queued up in the dash...I think I'm ready to face one more day.

Anger is Easy

Ever notice how people want to act pissed off and throw stuff around after they've hit their hand with a hammer?

After much deliberation, I've decided that it's easier to feel anger than any other emotion. Most anger is irrational and thoughtless. It's more socially acceptable to be angry. When's the last time there's been a great movie about people just sitting around being sad? It's all about the anger and the resulting kill crazy rampage that follows. There are no good sorrow movies, but there are several really, really good ones about anger and revenge.

Lately I've tried to be angry and go with it. It's easier than wallowing in the overwhelming sense of defeat that swallows me about three times a day. Today, I was told that I look "down and out." Well, honestly? I am. Today is actually the first day in one month and six days that I've not cried at least once. Today? Not a single tear. And it's because I've committed to just being angry.

I used to think about what I would do when it eventually happened and could never really come up with a good plan as the whole prospect was just so freakin' inconceivable. It would have been easier to conceptualize a massive blast of solar radiation from the sun frying the earth than it was to know what life would be like after. So...I guess maybe the denial stage of the stages of loss/grief/etc was kicking in on that one. That must mean that then came the depression...and the grief over my inability...to just be. And the cursing...curse me and my complicated ways. Me with my multisyllabic, odd name that can't be found on "customized" toothbrushes and pens. Me with my degree in the physical sciences, big boobs, and authoritative position in this "upwardly mobile" life I'm trying to build for myself. Me with my wanderlust, graceful clumsiness, and curious ways. Me with my rogue reproductive system. Me. But why be angry with myself when it's so much easier to be angry with other people. Granted, logic says that anger should be directed at the situation, for if there's any deserving party, it's the situation. But anger defies logic, you see, so fingers certainly cannot be pointed at the deserving party.

I want to be angry. I really, really do. But the oddest thing happened - I committed myself to anger but when faced with the entity at which I want to direct my rage, I can't be angry. I'm enjoying myself too much to be mad. I never saw this coming...unexpected outcomes. Then again, I never thought I'd feel progressively worse about something with each passing day - wtf with that? But yeah, I want to roar and rage and rampage, but I fear I just don't have it in me. And though it's in my nature to want to lash out (similar to the manner an injured animal does) when hurt, I get distracted and laugh and have fun. I genuinely enjoy myself. Perhaps deep down I know that anger will get me nowhere. Deep down I know that sometimes shit just happens. The philosophy of there being no good and no bad, just what's there and it's all in what we make of a situation...appreciating the cards we've been dealt. Deep down I know that I don't really have a good reason to feel so bad...there are the greats and then there are the best of what's there. And then there are situations where being the best of what's there is like being the smartest kid with down's syndrome. What about that is worth mourning over? At least no one's dead.

...except for the Monday Night Girl. I think she's lost and gone forever, but where's the loss in that?

Damn Thursday

I started my morning, waking up oddly refereshed for it being 1 am and then proceeded to lie in bed and watch part of a Discovery Channel documentary on volcanoes before going through the morning routine of washing, drying, straightening, painting, perfuming, and dressing before driving into work.

The way the streets always seem to glisten and the stoplights can be seen clear down the road tend to give the middle of the night a certain uncharacterizable charm. This is probably the only time of the day that can be as interesting at the end of waking hours as it is at the begining. Even the radio stations play better music at night. Usually, I try to find the old "AM Gold" standards - Moody Blues, Three Dog, etc, but this morning it was all about the hair-rock. Can't really recall the song on the radio, but can tell you that it was one that inspired me to think of the last time in the middle of the night, I kicked back and enjoyed the radio. Sitting on couches, somewhere in Kentucky, listening to "Sweet Child of Mine" and marveling over the GuitarGod known as Slash. The night is always conducive to etching even the most mundane into the brain.

So here I am, sitting at my desk in what is now almost my 4th hour at work. Considering hopping in the car and driving into town for a real (unhealthy) breakfast and a newspaper and a good view of the sun rising. Today I must remain in motion for if I stop, it'll be too tempting to sleep. Under the desk? Out in my car? In the bathroom? There are very few good options for refuge from the waking world. And too many options for thought. I think I think too much. I think I need to decide what all to see and do while back up in Chicago for the weekend. I think I need to go get some breakfast.

Yet Another 5 Things That Rock My World

1. Super Troopers. Every time I watch this movie, I notice something different. Did you know that when Thorny's about to ask the freaky-deaky Germans "Who wants a moustache ride?" he's holding a bundle of bananas? WTF?

2. The 355 Tollway. I never thought I'd be so excited to pay money to drive on a road. Then again, watching a Thunder Chicken smoking, flaming, and shooting oil all over the place on the side of the road made it pretty cool too. I never thought I'd be so excited about watching a cock-car go up.

3. Thymes Kimono Rose. This weekend at C.O. Bigelow, I picked up the Kimono Rose bath set, consisting of bath wash, body cream, bath salts, and a roller perfume. The scent is reminiscent of circa 1999 Anna Sui perfume. I have this thing about perfume and lately, I've had a thing about rose scented things.


4. Green Beer. The goodness of beer with all the fun of having a mouth stained an odd color. It also invokes statements such as "You know it's like...blabbity blah blah, fuck you green beer."


5. "A prayer for the wild at heart, kept in cages." - Tennessee Williams

Chasing Windmills

I went looking for this on Saturday.

Katie and I hopped in the Canyonero 2.0 and took off up a country road in search of fun, adventure, and racetracks. Fourteen hours later we returned with road stories, cheesecake, and photographs. But alas, no momentos from the racetrack because we couldn't find it. Three hours driving around Kane, McHenry, and Cook County...no luck.

But we did find windmills. Lots of them.

There are a couple of wind farms in the counties north of here. I haven't seen such a sight since the last time I was out in California to visit my aunt. Unlike the ones out there, it's possible to get really close to the ones here. They're almost creepy looking up close. Tall, sterile, made of steel...Katie wondered what would happen if the windmill field were hit by a tornado. I tried to explain how they generate energy, but I realized mid-explanation that I couldn't recall all of the intracacies of how they function.

After having driven around for a few hours trying to find the track, Katie made mention of the windmills and how driving around looking for something that likely wasn't there was like "chasing windmills." Except we actually found windmills. And like Quixote, I had Katie, as my Sancho Panza verbally expressing doubts of my sanity over being so tenacious about searching for something. But couldn't it be considered admirable to never give up? Or like (as lately it seems) most things in my life, am I merely trying in vain to wish my little heart out for something that's just not there.

...I'm going to go look for that track again...

We're Not Gonna Protest!

My company gets protested periodically because we made the tractors that are the Israel Defense Forces bulldozers, which are used to knock down buildings in the West Bank and Gaza Strip. This week, some protesters went downtown where they waived signs, blaming Cat for the deaths of peace protestors and demanded the company stop selling D9 dozers to Israel. Claims that it is unethical to sell equipment that would be used for such a purpose are being made. This claim has been countered with the statement that Cat does not possess right or ability to interfere with the way product is used after it's purchased.


Story from WEEK News about this week's protest:

Group Protests Caterpillar
Mar 16, 2006 - National and local political activists rallied in front of the Caterpillar's headquarters in downtown Peoria Thursday.

They say they want the company to stop selling bulldozers to an Israeli military that uses them to knock down Palestinian homes.

The protest comes on a third anniversary of the death of a 23-year old American activist Rachel Corrie who was run over by an Israeli soldier driving a Caterpillar bulldozer.

Joe Carr with the International Solidarity Movement said, "Caterpillar Corporation is fully aware of what Israel is using their equipment to do. They know that Israel is systematically violating Palestinian rights, destroying homes, annexing lands and killing people. So therefore, they are enabling Israeli war crimes and they must held responsible for their actions."

According to the police, four arrests were made, after the protesters attempted to lie on Adams street covered with fake blood. The protest blocked traffic for some time over the lunch hour.

Caterpillar issued a written statement today, saying that it "fully complies with all local, U.S. and international laws and policies governing sales of its products around the world, including the U.S. foreign Military Sales Program."



Corporate Statement on Global Unrest

Middle East
"For the past four years, activists have wrongly included Caterpillar in a publicity campaign aimed at advancing their much larger political agendas. Over that same period of time, we've repeatedly evaluated our position - as have our shareholders - and determined that while the protests occasionally succeed in gaining headlines, they neither change the facts nor our position.

"As a well-respected and responsible global citizen, Caterpillar fully complies with all local, U.S. and international laws and policies governing sales of our products around the world, including the U.S. Foreign Military Sales Program. In addition, we clearly have neither the legal right nor the tangible ability to regulate how customers use their machines.

"While it's disappointing that a small number of activists continue to use our international visibility, leadership and reputation to draw attention to their cause, we have no intention of participating in a debate that appears aimed not at our company, but at the policies established and controlled by the governments of the United States and Israel."

Beware! The Ides of March

Nothing overly spectacular happenened on this 15th of March. I arranged for there to be a take cover drill at work, which was great because a) I wasn't around for it and b) it's great to bellow "beware the ides of march" when people ask when the next one will be. I could go on a power trip over being able to make such a productivity-wrecking event occur, but I'm rather indifferent. The real power trip could come from having people ask when they'll be and me refusing to tell them...

My biggest trauma of the day was just a few minutes ago, as I sat in black bertha and watched yet another episode of Sex and the City, shaking my head and saying aloud "Oh, it's so true. So, so true..." Next thing I know, I'll be saying "It's like on that one episode of SATC where..." Oh wait, I pulled that one last weekend, likening that moment that I refused to play nice and be friends with someone's new girlfriend to when Miranda didn't finish decorating Debbie's cupcakes. And then last night when Jennifer and I were talking about that episode where Miranda pretends to be a flight attendent to get dates. For the record, she is going to play a nurse and I'll feign librarian. Because librarians are hot...because they can read (obvi!).

Tonight, I engaged in witty banter and mild flirting with the barista through the orderbox while getting a strawberry frappuchino. It was good times, being haranged over my disdain for whipped cream on my drink. However, I could sense a bit of mutual disappointmen when I pulled up to the window and our eyes met. That's probably the fastests I've ever had a male lose interest - the span of two cars. At least he reconstitutes a good frappuchio and knows when the heck not to put whipped cream on a beverage.

Peoria Fashion Show Part Deux

I was at the mall again tonight picking up a discount leather jacket from Wilson's. Yay for sales! And once again, I saw the Butt Queen (see yesterday's post) working her stuff next to the west entrance. This girl is amazing because even though her clothes appear to be screaming for help, she manages to work them anyway. How in the world could someone in such ill fitting and ill flattering clothes seem to be so confident and comfortable in her own skin? It does not look good. At all. And the sad part was, she had boys around her. Granted, they weren't cute boys, but she gets male attention. The last time I had my ass out of my pants in public, it was when I inadvertently mooned the conosle room of the cold room. And even that was brief as there's nothing like -10 degree air blowing across your backside to make you want to stow it.

Tonight I also saw two guys that looked like they were on their way to a basketball game, one of those dreadful red hat ladies, and an errant food court druid. I guess the rest of the coven have night classes on Tuesday.

I also saw a striking lady in a black and gray dress clothes, red lipstick, and a black leather jacket. Oh wait, that was me...

I Love a Good Conference

Today marked the end of the hotel portion of Safety Week '06. I must admit to being rather bummed that there's not a day 3 because when I'm in a situation where I can learn a lot very quickly and have nothing too unexpected come up throughout the course of the day, it's a refreshing change of pace. And when I'm at the office, there's not snack table that has an unlimited supply of bottled water. Over the last two days, I've consumed over 200 ounces of water, 2 cups of coffee, 4 cups of hot tea, and 500 ounces of iced tea. And tonight, there was an open bar to kick off the dinner so I tossed a couple of Budweisers on top for good measure. Oddly enough, though it was a situation where everyone was drinking out of the bottle, I felt odd and wrong for drinking beer from the bottle at a dressy-business-casual event. Thank goodness some Southern Living rubbed off on me. I did enjoy my beer, albeit with a napkin wrapped around it.

Networking is another perk of conferences. Must now find a way to get to the ASSE Conference in San Diego later this year as I had a blast hanging out with another IH that works engine labs out there. We bonded over being smart females in a tough, male dominated field and all the stuff we've been trying to learn about engines. Another great thing about networking is being able to whip out my hot little chelsea green vera business card holder and do the slick card swap move. And I got to do all of this wearing high heeled boots, gray slacks, and a hot black oxford. I miss being able to wear non-sensible shoes to work.

Tomorrow is the start of the breakout sessions. I'll be in environmental training all day because I'm prepping for what's after safety. I get tired of trying to protect people from themselves although the truth of the matter is all I can do have a good program in place and hope for the best. For a while, I wanted to resent certain aspects of my job, but on Friday, as I cleared all the bullshit off my desk for the week, I realized that all of this and everything pertaining to it is a stepping stone to something greater. And it all came together yesterday afternoon when I was introduced to THE corporate industrial hygienist as "----, Future Corporate Industrial Hygienist" and I realized how close I am to really taking off professionally and doing all of the things I told my parents I'd do the night I withdrew from one college and started packing to leave the state and give higher ed a try somewhere else. It's odd and charming to be so starry eyed about my chosen profession. Oh, and don't forget the snack table.

The Peoria Fashion Show?

Tonight at the mall, I saw this girl in one of those faux-Juicy coture jogging suits and a backward baseball cap sitting on a bench, working to keep the attention of the boys on the bench adjacent to hers. She had it going off. And to add that extra special je ne se quois, she had her entire buttocks hanging out of her pants. We're talking full moon. On display. Resting majestically atop the dirty old wooden bench. Reflecting the glare of the mall lights. Off her big, white butt. It was so horrific that I was able to maintain a straight face. My guess is that what I saw was so horrible that my brain didn't completely register it, but did just enough to know what it was looking at. Incredible.

Everytime I go to the indoor mall, it's a veritable fashion show. Not a haute coture fashion show with the girls dressing up their fiercest and walking real mean from shop to shop. It's like...g-thuggs and food court druids and an element of people that would appear should someone open the back of a molester van and yell "Free PBR!!! Come and get it!" The halls of the indoor mall are also occupied with people who seem to spend the majority of their waking hours sitting in front of the computer, waiting for Morpheus to come and offer them a red or blue pill. And then there was a fellow that's can be best described as a Merv the Perv kind, standing in the (soon to close) Sam Goody in all his plaid shorts, black chucks, and rotund glory. Trojan Extended Pleasure baseball cap jauntily perched atop his greasy mop. He had one of those goatees that screamed "Look at me! I'm trying to be Kevin Smith!" And though I never got close enough to confirm (for fear he'd try to whip it out at me), he just looked like he smelled bad.

There's really no moral to this story other than I need to start taking a camera with me when I go to the mall. Then again, trying to capture these animals in their native habitat could end with similar result to swinging a stick at a bear. That is, if the bear were to knock me to the ground and rub its genitals on me while screaming "You'll never understand me because I'm 5,000 years old and my parents make me work at Cinnabon!" God bless the indoor mall.

Winds of Change

Last night around 11:30, I finally got to meet the guys that live below me when we were all standing outside in our night clothes, staring at the sky like slackjawed yokels as the tornado sirens went off. I love it when toned boys strut around in sleep shorts and no shirt, pecs glistening in the stormy night sky. That's my favorite thing about tornado warnings - people are too concerned about the weather to bother with clothes.

Springfield got nailed by a tornado. My folks are all right. Thank goodness. Wal-Mart, Best Buy and possibly the Knight's Action Park are demolished though. Sad day. No one killed. Good day.

It's supposed to snow up here tonight, possibly. Not ready for it to be cold again, but it's better than more storms. I'm good to go on tornadic weather for now.

Tonight, I bought 5 new pairs of panties at Victoria's Secret. I love new underwear - each pair is a new hope. The promise of a brighter, happier tomorrow. What better way to signify a new day than a fresh pair of cottons against the skin? New underwear brings that extra bolt of confidence, that extra spring in the step...it comes from being able to stand in front of someone and smirk because you've got something on that's fabulous but he'll never get to see it. Or, knowing that you're wearing a lovely piece of art on your bottom that's yours and yours alone. I love new underwear and I love the idea of tomorrow being a new day.

All about a Weekend

I saw a funnel cloud in my rear view mirror last night. It was odd to see it move through the sky too as it was around 10 at night and I could only see it when lightning lit up the night sky. So the whole thing had a very jumpy appearance to it. Weirdest thing I've seen...in a while, anyway.

This was a good weekend. I went to St. Louis. At one point, I stood at the edge of a parking garage looking out onto I-270, feeling the dusk wind blow across my face and watched haze roll across the hills as the sun set. And for the first time in a while, I just knew that everything would be all right.

The doctor's office called me Thursday morning; I don't have cancer.

Each day since then, I keep thinking to myself "what am I going to do with the rest of my life?" So far, I've been catching up with people I haven't talked to in a while and running around having fun. Shot some pool, went shopping, enjoyed the (albeit tornadic) weather, and just went about my merry way.

I've slept a lot and had some odd dreams. Yesterday morning started, waking up to (mentally) hearing the opening chords to "Bittersweet Symphony" in my head and that tune followed me throughout the day. Into the church, out at the graveyard, across the JB bridge, back across the Poplar, into the garage of my parents house - it was every where.

And now I must cut this post short. Peoria county is now under a tornado warning.

Say Something Positive

Five Things that Are Rocking my World Today

1. Bare Escentuals makeup. I ordered the starter kit and can't wait for it to arrive. The contents of that box is going to change my life.

2. Iced Tea. This has been a lifesaver as I've decided to give up soda for lent. I've given up something else for lent too and think that doing so will bring me to a higher plane of existence. Or at least help restore peace of mind.

3. XBox. After months of saying "someday I'll get an Xbox, I went and got an Xbox Thursday morning. I also picked up Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas and Star Wars III Revenge of the Sith. The Xbox pack came with Forza Racing. I'm not good at racing games, but I'm great with jacking cars. It's cathartic.

4. Katie W. She came to Peoria at exactly the right time. There aren't a lot of people I know that will go out into the cold night with you wearing pajama pants, glasses, topknots, and pink Mario spots for sake of seeking catharsis. And not laugh at you when you slip on some semisolid water and land on your back in a parking lot at 2 in the morning. And then lie in bed and eat "that bag" of potato chips with you. (Eating that bag of potato chips was like when Miles drank that vintage wine in the fast food restaurant in Sideways.) And be able to help make it better when life is kicking you in the ass. This girl is awesome

5. Possibility. I may have the chance to alter my current working situation. Yes, many aspects of life are grim but the thought of being able to possibly do something about one thing that's been bothering me is a good thought. But knowing what I know now, I'm sure that if I should decide to ask for reassignment, I'll be doing it for the right reasons and solely for me.

Thought of the day: "Worrying is like a rocking chair - it's something to do but gets you no where."

Absolutely Broken

To say that everything is broken really isn't an overstatement. In this past week, I've had a complete breakdown of technology, job sassification, relationships, and health.

When my computers weren't 'throwing up' on me, I was being attacked by people who aren't brave enough to voice irriation at the people who actually have the power to change the source of irritation. It was just enough to push me over the edge to want to go from wanting to change the system to just doing enough to stay afloat until I can move on. Now if I can actually bring myself to go through the motions with anything is something that I have yet to see.

As far as relationships go, I'm so angry that I've allowed myself to be subjected to cruel remarks and mental tortue to the point that now, years later, I get intense fear of being "crazy" and "unstable" should I want to express caring for another person. The fact that I want exclusive relationships with people makes me "posessive" and "controlling." Basically, three years after the fact, I'm absolutely battling that awful internal voice telling me that should I pursue a relationship with anyone, I turn into Glenn Close from "Fatal Attraction." But yet my voice of reason keeps reminding me that the situation that I was in wasn't about me being crazy. It's absolutely not acting crazy to be very angry to be in an arrangement where I'm being lied to, mistreated and actually slapped across the face.

And I'm really working hard on believing that there's nothing wrong with me. Having people apologize when they've been mean to mean and call to see if I'm okay helps. It kills me, actually, to have someone show regard for my feelings. I'm not used to this.

But none of that really mattered after the doctor's office called on Friday morning. I have some abnormalities in routine testing, you see, and this means that on Wednesday, I go back and get checked over again. I'm pretty positive that it was just lab error and I'm going to be fine. It is a strange thought that I would have to potentially be too sexy for my hair and get to see first hand all the effects of physical agents I've studied for so many years.

Every day, I realize more and more, how fragile and fleeting life is and how we're just a heartbeat away from the great beyond. Moments like that make all the bullshit that we subject ourselves to just fade away. Who cares about spats and old grudges? There's no time for neuorses or hangups. As for me...I think all of this is going to be the catalyst for finally letting go of everything and just throwing myself into life and relationships with the knowledge that while it all won't always be rosy, having displeasure at a situation doesn't make a person crazy or wrong. It's just a sign that something's broken and needs to be rechecked and fixed. It's a sign that I need to start giving more regard to myself and first and foremost believing my own perceptions. Life's too short to dwell on the things that don't really matter when there are millions of things out there that do. And I take peace in knowing that whatever I find out this week, oddly enough, everything will be okay...

Where is the Happy Place

Twenty minutes after midnight, I close my eyes and all the pain in my back from this 18 hour day fades. The grittiness in my eyes, the frustration in my lungs, the cut on my hand, the pounding in my brain...for a moment it is gone.

To say that today I suffered from a case of the Mondays is an obvious statement. From the moment I woke, feeling the crusty sting of a fresh stye on my left eyelid and heaviness in my chest from lack of sleep, I knew that it'd be a grand task to keep the spirits high. Cold breakfast sandwich, meetings that drag on, and news that a wall is growing old and dropping its blocks were the good morning news of the day. I thought I made some prgress with reports, etc and then hit a brick wall. I'm nearly positive that I'm mocked behind my back...is it that obvious that I'm such a stupid girl? A joke? Out of my league in more ways than several? The screen on my home laptop went out tonight. I rushed it to Best Buy's Geek Squad with service plan in hand and proud that I had the where-with to put it in a case and be calm and matter of fact, rather than wrapping it in a blanket and huffing and crying, as many of my kind are expected to do. Even ordering a muffin from Starbucks on University was a chore. Every time I requested something that they just could not do, I resisted the urge to counter with "the one at Grand Prairie can do it." There I go again, always comparing things to others...

The "G" key snapped off The Beast., my work laptop. I shoved it back into the keyboard and willed it to stay put...telling it that it knows what's good for it. I'm surrounded by people that bully and brute toward the desired outcome. Shouldn't it be natural that I'd want to eventually lean that way too? Afterall, it works for them. I feel I'm nearing a crossroads with my life, but have no idea which path to take. I sure never thought I'd end up where I am now. Somedays, everything in the universe is pushing me to just run away and try again while others, it seems like I have to look for reasons not to stay. But really, how many 'stay' reasons do I have? Most of them are like a celestial cycle and once in a blue moon, I could see myself here forever. Then I realize I'm being foolish and try to look for other reasons and signs. Perhaps I get sidetracked before I can truly realize that there just aren't any there. Nights like tonight, I feel utterly adrift at sea.

So the only logical thing to do is to go to the happy place. Gotta love the happy place, that spot in your mind where all is good and tomorrow shines as a brighter day. Sometimes, if I think about my happy place hard enough, it actually materializes before me. Then there are times like right now, where all the wishing in the world won't make my Monday seem better.

...The "G" button just snapped off my keyboard again. I "glued" it on there with clear nail polish. It worked on my old saxophone, why not this computer?

Anyway, I guess the only rational thing to do at a moment like this is to crawl in bed and try again "tomorrow." The idea of sleep is phenomenal...so I suppose for now, that is my happy place.

Check Your Demographic at the Door

On Friday afternoon, I had to complete some career planning forms with my supervisor. One of the items to provide information for is relocation contingencies. Parameters on my move could have been based on 1) Having a spouse, 2) Having children, or 3) Having a spouse and children.

I have none of these. Yet there was no box for me to check. In order to move on through the software, I had to check that any relocation is affecting my theoretical spouse. Whatever happened to consideration for the singles? I want my box that says I will move whereever I please, not having to consider husbands and children, seeking only a place that offers more money, more fun, more life satisfaction opportunities! I want a box that says I'm holding out for something spectacular and was willing to wait rather than just do what should logically come next.

Go to college. Get a job. Get married. Have children.... What happened to the adventure? What happened to it being okay to be alone for a while and learn how to live with one's self and only one's self? And is there ever really a logical order for anything? There's no set way to do things, right? Why the stigma of being alone?

But I never really came up with any good answers for this as I just checked the box for the theoretical spouse and moved along, knowing that it was more pragmatism and less wishful thinking. I need to get promoted to something else. Maybe then I can start having an actual rather than theoretical life.

Leave the Lion Alone!!!

There's a sculpture of a lion just outside of Bergner's at the fancy outdoor mall. It's completely anatomically correct. This is something that I noticed but just disregarded after realizing this because really, what does it matter if a lion sculpture sports a pair of testiclees? Lions do have those, you know.

Apparently as the youth of Peoria saunter by this bronze creature, they just have to stop and...manipulate the genitalia on this lion. And this really bothers Barista Alicia. The taking of the pictures, the repositioning of the lights so that they shine upon the testiclees in all their bronze glory...she'll see this happen while gazing through the window of the coffee shop and just flip out that the kids won't leave the lion alone.

Now, as a lion enthusiast, I'm all for bronze lion rights. However, I see greater humor not in the groping and assualt of said lion, but rather the reaction of the people who witness this every day. Last night, while tidying the shop, I'd watch her suddenly just flip out and start shouting at the window "LEAVE THE LION'S BALLS ALONE! MY GOD PEOPLE!!!" Now picture this multiple times a day...one moment you're trying to get a cup of coffee and the next, your barista is screaming about lion balls.

V for Victory Day

Today is/was Valentine's Day. And, I never really noticed.

I started the day with a pain in my shoulder, but a spring in my step knowing that warmer weather and brighter days are just around the corner. I was going to use this post to wax philosophical about Valentine's Day is about loving yourself and being with friends, but instead I'll just say that today was a Victory. I had a good day, didn't eat any of that nasty chocolate, spread joy to the world, and reveled in the fact that today was a beautiful day.

Misogynist Manual

Tonight, I did something that is akin to giving money to the nazi party. I bought the Tucker Max book. And I was so excited about the book that I left, forgetting to pick up a copy of the new Vanity Fair where Lindsey Lohen talks about doing drugs and is scantily clad on the cover.

As someone who considers herselves to be on the front line of feminism, I should feel bad about reading - let alone buying - a text chronicling the exploits of a self-professed womanizer. This text should serve as a warning, but instead it's entertaining. I could look for deeper meaning in this collection of stories or analyze the author as sad or making a "cry for help." But read the stories about the sushi pants, almost getting killed by cowboys, and trying...sex in a very uncomfortable place (like in the back of a volkswagon?) and you'll laugh. A lot. And then read it aloud for the other people in the car on the way home from St. Louis.

Inconceivable

Sometimes we're faced with possibilities that just can't be conceptualized. We can't do this because the idea is so far fetched or fantastic...sometimes the thought is too horrible to even comprehend. I feel this way when (even though I try) I can't even imagine things being any other way.

There are some people in this world that I just can't imagine not being around. This could mean in my life in some capacity and this can mean even walking the earth's surface. Certain people not being around in any capacity at all - something I can't even imagine and yet it's something that someday will inevitably have to be faced.

My uncle was in St. Louis all week with congestive heart failure.
A good friend is in ICU in Paducah.

I have no clue what the world would be like without these people in it. All I can say for sure is that it would never be the same.

"Shut the F*** Up, Donny"

Today I had a Theodore Donald Kerabatsos moment...

I'm sitting in a meeting and of course things got off track. The topic of conversation shifted to this book about the 5 love languages. Immediately, all the men in the room were intrigued and asking questions. I really wasn't paying attention, being too busy manning the computer and trying to save the world.

I overheard something about love languages and spun around in my chair and said "I don't think anything can sound romantic in German. It's such an aggressive language." Everyone stopped and looked at me and then just went back to talking about ways of sweet talking their wives.

At that moment, I could hear the voice of Walter Sobchak shouting over my shoulder to shut up. Some days I'm just oblivious to the world around me.



...I am the walrus...

Closed Captioned

Tonight after stuffing myself with breadsticks and seriously considering buying a rabbit, I decided to swing past the gym on my way home and go for 3 miles on the elliptical trainer. Now, I wouldn't normally work out after Tuesday Night Out, but today a new girl in the building had "thin" and "hot" used as descriptive terms (vague, but it gets the point across) when pointing her out, so I felt it best to take my fatguttery to the gym and sweat away in vain over the pipe dream that someday I would be described as such. ...After reading that last sentence, I just realized that someone has just written themselves a voucher for one free cockpunch.

Anyway...

I'm hoofing away, arms flailing, NIN blasting on my ipod when I found myself drawn to the episode of Boston Legal on the television screen. This show holds much appeal in theory in that it features both Captain Kirk AND Murphy Brown in the courts of law with Mr. Sinister Hotness, James Spader. I've never watched an entire episode, yet even watching the captions at the bottom of the screen, I found myself glued to the screen. Keep in mind that when "running" in place at a resistance a 10 (feel the burn!), it's hard to follow a storyline, however, I was anxiously awaiting to see if Murphy Brown had won her case. When the time came for the reading of the verdict, I was riveted to the screen. Beads of sweat pouring down my face, sweat staining my shirt, the defendant is found...

and then the captions just stopped. It just stopped!

There are some things in this world that should work consistently. Air bags, jet engines...one could probably argue a case for cellular service. Close captioning should work all of the time. It's not so much that it's a life/death situation but rather that I've noticed that this never consistently works. Most closed captioning is garbled gibberish. This is way wrong. If I were one of those sue-happy people, I'd scream class action lawsuit and rally the hearing impaired over this.

Sometimes I'll...

...wave my hand to the side and pretend I'm using Jedi powers to open the door when I pass through automatic doors.

...take off my shoes and rub the bottoms of my feet against textured surfaces because it feels good.

...put my fedora on top of the television and giggle because it looks like everyone on tv is wearing my hat.

...think about just getting in my car, turning off my phone, picking a random direction and just going awol for a week or two.

...I'll seriously think about getting a guinea pig.

...wish I could have beer for breakfast or lunch.

...I'll open an old calculus book and solve problems "for fun."

...take stuff apart and not be able to put it back together but be too embarassed to get help getting it back together.

...think about getting a pair of glasses without the prescription lenses to sport over my contact lenses because I think I look cute in glasses, but not ones as thick as mine.

...scratch my back with a fork.

Refreshingly Cold

My day in review:

Woke up at 5:45, turned off one alarm, turned on tv, sat down on bed and fell asleep until 7:04. Though I have no official hours, work starts at 8. As I'm driving into work at 5 'til 8, I see Nicole, who points and laughs. I feign distress, throwing my head back and a forearm over my forehead, all while operating a motor vehicle.

Meetings. Meetings. Meeting preparation.

Lunch. It was pizza day. Work is a lot like college in that everyone gets excited over the themed food days in the cafeteria. I sat with the girls and at one point we all turned around and stared at one of the engineers behind us at the cash register. I suggested we pass him a note during study hall. We discussed the social awkwardness of our coworkers and then traded notes on how to react to the building "boob lookers."

Monthly take cover drill. I'm starting to enjoy the emergency drills if nothing else, for the sheer joy of throwing a wrench in other peoples' afternoon plans. Cari was right, I am "becoming evil."

Two more meetings. I looked at someone's chair and decided to not even try to fix it, instead opting to have it replaced with a new one. ...Must remember to follow up on that next week. "Hey, how's that new chair working out for you?" I hung out in other people's cubicles and watched them have too much fun with a pair of ear plugs, fashioning them into a noose, then a headpiece (with antennae), and finally a headband, complete with a "Lord of the Dance" type in-chair gyration. Then we laughed at the engineering pit across the hall and how we could hear them laughing and yelling "BULLSHIT." It was even funnier when the lifer in the adjacent desk turns around and said "What are they smoking?" I returned to my desk and tinkered with intra-office instant messanger and then turned around and noticed that someone had drawn a picture of Yoda on my markerboard.

Left work. Wallored in self pity for 15 minutes. Cheered up. Dumped uncooked spaghetti all over my feet. Decided to eat the other part of that Bennigan's Monte Cristo sammich...a quick note about this sammich: Ham, Turkey, Cheese. Sounds normal so far, right? Deep fried - the whole damn thing. Then coated in powdered sugar and served up with a cup of raspberry jam. Who in the world thought of this? I consider that one of those 'experience foods.' You've experienced them and then you order something new off the menu.

Trip to the mall for a mani-pedi. Had a stand in for my usual nail lady. I left there wearing flip flops with my pant legs rolled up to my knees. My usual nail lady once scurried outside to stop me as I headed out with pant legs still rolled. This guy was kind of like...fend for yourself. So I walked the quarter mile or so to my car, the freezing temperatures stinging my bare legs. I could have been irritated, but instead decided that I'd consider the cold to be refreshing.

But that's just me...I try to find the benefit/good in everything.

Three days down. Two left to go.

The Guiness Float

1 pint glass
several scoops vanilla ice cream
top with guiness
eat with spoon/drink from cup

Obligatory Showgirls Post

The wonder/horror that is Showgirls is currently on Vh1. This means I'll stay up too late watching this movie that is so bad that it falls into territory that's well...good.

Why do I like this film? It's certainly not for the nudity. For starters, those ladies have nothing that I don't see on a daily basis when exiting the shower. Also, it's not that sensational or naked. The dialogue is clunky, the way it's shot looks dated, and the actions of the characters make no sense. The idea of motive is there, but not really. I think Nomi Malone has some sort of a behavior disorder. And how about Kyle Mclaughlin's Flock of Seagulls-inspired hair? Gina Gershon comes away unscathed as always. But the biggest "what's up with this?" in this movie is the dancing itself. This is a movie about dancing (granted, with no clothes on, but dancing nevertheless) and all the moves look down right grand mal.

Maybe this movie speaks to me on some sort of a subconscious level. It is a movie about chasing your dreams, no matter how sordid and low brow they may seem. Afterall, not everyone gets to grow up and be an astronaut...

Tiny Cat Pants' Guide to Illinois

Allison sent this link to me and it was awesome. So true, so true...

Illinoisans have two pastimes--building towns right next to each other, even though there's plenty of room to spread out* and experiencing odd things.

We'll get to the odd things in a second, but let's dwell on the twin cities phenomenon. Now, anyone who's ever looked at a road atlas can easily discern that the farther east you go in the Midwest, the more accommodating and easy to get along with people are. Ohio? Who doesn't get along with people from Ohio? Indiana? Yes, it's disconcerting that their Amish people drive trucks** and that everyone knows either Axl Rose or John Mellencamp or both, but, over all, okay place. Then you have Illinois, where we get a little grouchier--downstate*** hates Chicago, Chicago hates downstate; everyone who didn't go to the University of Illinois hates the University of Illinois and the University of Illinois hates them; coal miners hate the farmers; people of northern Italian descent egg the houses of people of southern Italian descent; people whose families came over from Germany 250 years ago still refuse to speak English; and so on, but as long as everyone stays in their designated area, there's very little overt hostility. Then there's Iowa, where it seems nice and peaceful, but only because there's no one in the state who's still talking to each other.

So, the twin town thing in Illinois is peculiar, but I suspect it's born out of our inherent grouchy tolerance. You can almost imagine how it happened in, say, Bloomington/Normal. The settlers were like "We need a name that will let people know that this is a happening place. Things are busting out--this is a booming town. No, that implies industry. We don't want industry. Let's call it a blooming town. Yes, that's it. Bloomington." "Industry? You jackasses don't want any industry? What kind of freaks don't want any jobs in their town? Fine. You do things your way. We'll be here on our side of this creek in 'Normal people's town.' You can call it Normal for short."

And the towns, separated more by ideology than inches, soon grow intertwined until you can't tell where one town starts and the other stops.

But, if you're going to basically tolerate the people you don't like who live near you--thus ruling out a great deal of ethnic and religious violence****--you end up with not a whole lot to do.

Which is, I suppose, how some lucky towns end up with some strange thing, like the Watseka Wonder or the Mad Gasser of Mattoon. Or they end up implementing really strange community improvement ideas.

Take for instance, Aledo, Illinois (home of Suzy Bogguss). Even though the town has, maybe, 3,000 people in it, they decided to rename all of the streets to make it easier for folks to find their way around town. Only two streets were left with actual street names--College Avenue and Main Street. All the other streets were given numbers--with streets being east-west roads and avenues being north-south roads.

You're still not seeing the lunacy, I know, but bear with me. Each street or avenue was numbered, starting with 2nd, from either College or Main. So, there was a North 2nd Street and a South 2nd Street and a West 2nd Avenue and an East 2nd Avenue. Which means that, in a town small enough you can walk across it and still meet friends for lunch up at the Garden Family Restaurant, you can stand at the corner of 2nd and 2nd at four different places in town.

Really, you almost must see it to believe it.





*See Urbana/Champaign, Bloomington/Normal, LaSalle/Peru, Rock Island/Davenport/Moline/East Moline/Bettendorf/Milan (better known as the Quad Cities. Yes, everyone knows there are six cities. Don't be petulant.), etc.
**It's a little known fact that most traffic accidents in rural Indiana are caused by Illinois drivers going "What the fuck? Is that an Amish dude driving that truck behind me?" and turning around to take a look and ending up in a culvert.
***"Downstate" constituting anything south of I-80 or west of Aurora, thus leading to the peculiarness of Galena somehow being downstate of Chicago.
****Though it'd surely be something to watch the Lutherans and the Methodists take on those young upstart Assemblies of God.

Hurts So Good

I forsee duckwalking into work tomorrow as I let my arms and legs have it at the gym these past two days. Throw in some super situps and I'll be good to go until the next gym session. Though, evertime I find myself suspended over the floor, using my (soon to be) awesome abs to lift myself back upright, I can envision the arm on the device I use snapping off, sending me facefirst into the floor. I do this for two songs, alternating between left side of waist, right side of waist, and back muscles, going until each group is fatigued and then repeating until I've gone through two whole songs. Even though I've been listening to a lot of Pink Floyd lately, I dare not to do this routine to any of their songs (as a lot of them are 15 minute-ers or more).

It's becoming increasingly apparent what an integral part of fitness the ipod has become. Choice of music is essential for ensuring that a workout goes well. Obviously the fast stuff is great for cardio...stuff from Madonna or Gwen Steffani is good. I also find that My Chemical Romance helps me keep on running. When it comes to lifting weights or wailing on the abs, I'll listen to stuff from Nine Inch Nails or Jay-Z. For some reason, I like alt country and/or rockabilly stuff for lifting and ab work. I like more interesting music for the last set of cardio - this is where having some Richard Cheese in que is great. It's funny enough that it keeps my spirits high and I make a deal with myself that if I go an extra couple of miles that I'll keep listening to the music.

Today I worked out for almost two hours. The first 45+ minutes was cardio followed by arms routine, followed by more cardio. As I was completing my second set of cardio, I ran into stair-stepper extraordinaire (and all around awesome gal) Christa and spent the next hour bike riding and treadmilling while chatting. It makes the hour fly by. Gave the stairstepper a whirl, but not only is it rough on my knees, I have no aptitude for using this device. At least I'll always have my love, the elliptical trainer.

And yes, once again I saw a buck naked lady in the locker room.

Can't Keep My Eyes from the Circling Skies

Somehow, I managed to find the LBL airport yesterday afternoon. It's wonderful - on top of a hill, in the middle of the woods, loveliness surrounding it. The kind of imagery well suited for sharing, but photos just don't do it justice.

After standing at the top of that hill, I would like to get a pilots license so that I could fly into beautiful airstrips on hilltops and go places like that at a moment's notice.

The Weatherman Says Fair

When I left for work this morning, a thick and slushy snowfall was rapidly coating everything in sight. Chagrined that I forgot to park my car in the garage last night, I scraped off the soupy sludge of frozen ice and water before starting my 15 mile journey to work. Not caring the exact time I reached my desk, I decided to stop at Starbucks for caffinated fortification in the form of a vanilla soy latte.

Once I arrived at work, I wasn't 10 steps past my car when my work cell phone popped out of my pocket and skidded across the wet pavement. My phone is dead. It's not dead-dead, but rather...zombie dead. It's sort of alive, but really not. It can do outgoing calls and incoming calls, but it won't ring and I can't say anything into it nor can I hear anything out of it. I spent all morning trying to fix it to no avail. I will be without a work cell until sometime late next week. And because my phone was dead, I didn't receive the call about a punctured oil pan in a truck "barfing" oil everywhere. On the bright side, I gave myself a lovely case of spreadsheet hypnosis and a case of paranoid dejection. I also went to Arby's with the admins and even that had a dark shadow cast over it - with personal problems abound and a sandwich that was subpar. Even the tea wasn't that great.

So sometime around 6, I left work...it's stopped slushing out but it's quite colder. I can't decide if I want to drive to my parents house tonight or wallow in ennui and give it a whirl tomorrow morning. Either way, there will be ennui involved.

And curly hair as I've decided to roll it all up on a whim. I want old school hair - with the wave in the bangs and everything. Everything old is new again, you know.

Speaking of old, I hit the quarter century sometime within the next 100 hours. Here's to another quarter century of holding it down.

Low Brows

I had my brows waxed at the salon tonight and she got them a little...a little much was taken from between the brows. Granted, I'm probably the only one that really notices it, but I'm paranoid that I'll end up looking like this girl I saw this weekend who had brows that didn't begin until her irises. I took some Smashbox Brow Tech in Taupe to them and the brows look decent, but I'm still adjusting to the look. At least my hair is good - it's extra floofy now and the long bangs are the pefect length to perfectly accentuate the adorableness that is me in safety glasses.

Sugar Bad!

While I don't believe in declaring myself to be "bad" for eating an unhealthy meal, I may do so on tonight's occasion of burger, fries, and regular soda from the standpoint that I feel like I've eaten a clump of dirt. So now my goal when choosing meals on the fly is to remember how gross I feel internally right now each time someone asks if I'd like fries with that.

The Forgotten Dog Dream

I woke up suddenly around 4 this morning when I had a dream that I had a dog but forgot that I had a dog? Confusing? In my dream, I was standing in my kitchen when this emaciated pomeranian comes crawling up to me and plops at my feet. I started to freak out and cry because I realized that I had a dog but forgot that I had a dog and thus hadn't been feeding it and it was on the verge of starving to death. And once again, all thoughts I've had of getting some sort of small critter have been dashed. I guess Turbo the Guinea Pig won't be a reality until later this year or maybe next. That's right folks - I want a little blonde guinea pig and I'm naming him or her "Turbo" because that's a damn cool name for a guinea pig.

First Birthday Gift?

I was given a garage/basement band cd today and it made me happy because not only did it come from an adorable boy, it's the style of music I loved when I was young. One of the songs has strong shades of Del Shannon. For years, my favorite song was "Runaway" and I'd listen to that and many other gems while drawing pictures of poodle skirts and hep cats. My parents are pretty sure that I wasn't fully aware that it wasn't 1957 until I hit the age of 10.

Raves: First Edition, 2006

These are a few of my favorite things...

1. Conair hot lotion dispenser: not since teenage boys has one been so enthusiastic about lotion. Hot, soothing, lotion!

2. Black liquid eyeliner: as part of my pin up training, I got a retro makeover at the Clinique counter. Their liquid liner is superior to all because of the felt tip. I can really poke it down in the lashes without worrying about my brush going limp. This stuff is a revelation.

3. Tiny beaded necklaces: I found a bunch at Claire's for cheap. They're like the ones that Allison used to make, so there's definitely nostalgia value there. A simple way to dress up an outfit.

4. Starbucks Vanilla Soy Lattes: I've had 3 in the past 24 hours. It's like a meal in a cup and it's the perfect temperature. The soy taste is different and it leaves the most refreshing after-taste in my mouth as opposed to the after-funk of dairy lattes.

5. Uncle Tupelo: Check out the Anthology 88-93 to get a nice overview of the goodness that was this band. All hail my new favorite thing to come out of Belleville. Alt-country never sounded so good.

6. Pabst Blue Ribbon: I had one last week because he was buying. I've had a few other since then as I realized it's not that bad. And props to the iconic can. However, yes, this is just a phase.

7. Red, flannel sheets: Now all my bedroom needs is a "Hot Light." Methinks I'll drive over to the Krispy Kreme in Bloomington and steal theirs. But yes, it really adds that something that was missing to my room. Deep red tones are really growing on me. Oh, and the sheets are soft...quasi-floofy. And so you know, "floofy" is my favorite texture.

Good Bye Rose Colored Glasses

I started 2006 by smashing the rosy tinted lenses through which I tend to see the world by seeing the good for what it is: good; and the bad for how it is: bad. No coloring of perceptions or hopes or dreams or chances or (dare I say it)...possibilities. Just the cold, hard facts in front of me.

...And it's been some time since I've felt so at peace with the world.

I don't even feel hopeful. I feel brave and amused by all that is forthcoming. Surely the future holds more adventures and more of the funny little things that make life...life. Who cares of deeper meaning when living in such a strange world. I'm striving to appreciate things how they are and not for how they could be. Good times, bad times, just the times - all are only what we make of it. Seeing things exactly as they are and appreciating them as such shall possibly be one of the roads to a life well lived.

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.