Tuesday, June 29, 2004
Quote
I've been bad about the quotes. Here's a priceless one:
"You know what that means. We're going to his masturbatorium."
-Thom Filica, Queer Eye for the "Gay" Guy
Omens
Does anyone else think it's a bad omen that three people in my office are leaving in the next week and a half? My office mate (see below) is leaving because she broke up with her boyfriend and needs some space and is moving. The last remaining Instructional Designer is leaving because her job has pretty much been coopted by the new organizational structure. And our Director of Marketing is leaving for greener pastures and (likely) a larger paycheck.
So my great new job, which I've had for less than five months, is apparently in a division that no one likes and everyone wants to get the hell away from.
OK, so maybe I'm being a little overdramatic. Still, doesn't it sort of bode ill that so many people are moving on? And they aren't the only ones -- since I've been there, at least two other people have moved on to bigger and better things.
Maybe it's just a symptom of working for the state. Or maybe the place really is cursed. Bad blood has stained that place before. But I'm hoping it's just the result of over-meager paychecks.
So my great new job, which I've had for less than five months, is apparently in a division that no one likes and everyone wants to get the hell away from.
OK, so maybe I'm being a little overdramatic. Still, doesn't it sort of bode ill that so many people are moving on? And they aren't the only ones -- since I've been there, at least two other people have moved on to bigger and better things.
Maybe it's just a symptom of working for the state. Or maybe the place really is cursed. Bad blood has stained that place before. But I'm hoping it's just the result of over-meager paychecks.
Friday, June 25, 2004
Broken Things
Our closet broke last night.
Or, rather, our closet broke yesterday, sometime between B leaving for work at 8:40 am and my arriving home at 6:00.
The people who lived in our house before us installed those lovely, space saving, vinyl-coated wire shelving units in the master bedroom walk-in closet. I hate them. I have always hated them. They were hung too high, and every 18 or so inches, the clothes rod had a support bracket that meant I could never shove all the clothes in one direction.
Note the past tense?
Yesterday, I arrived home and neatened up the downstairs in preparation for having company come over. I went upstairs and emptied the trash in the bathrooms and took off my work cardigan. I did not look in the closet. I had no need to until I made another trip upstairs to deposit several pairs of shoes that had been living under the coffee table.
And that's when I saw it.
The shelving unit on the long wall of our closet, the one that is nearly 12 feet long, fell off the wall onto the floor. To be perfectly accurate, not really on the floor, but rather on the laundry baskets and shoes. And the shelving unit itself isn't on the floor because all of our clothes that were hung on the shelving unit are now sort of supporting the unit.
It's a big, big mess. Our clothes are getting wrinkled, I can't get to anything I want to wear, and there are approximately six large holes in the wall where the shelving unit used to be bolted into the wall.
Except I think bolted is a bit strong of a word. See, the shelving unit was attached to the wall with those little drywall screws, the kind that splay open behind the drywall when you can't attach them to a wall stud. And the people who lived in our house before us and installed the hideous shelving unit obviously did not see the need to attach said hideous shelving unit to the wall at the studs.
So the cumulation of their however-long use of the unit, and our few years' use, combined with the weight of our clothing, led the shelving unit to divorce itself from its wall and gravitate toward the floor.
And now my closet is broken. My closet is broken and we have a houseguest coming to stay this weekend. Piles of clothes that are on the guest room bed were to be hung this evening before our guest arrived, and now we will simply have to lay said clothes on the floor, because they cannot be hung.
And I am retrieving a piece of furniture from my parents this weekend -- a nice, antique bureau that was left to me by my grandfather. And it was to replace my current dresser, which would have then moved into the closet, replacing an ancient footlocker. But now, we cannot get to the footlocker because the hideous shelving unit is lying on top of it, and that means we cannot move the current dresser into the closet and that means we have no place to put the incoming bureau. Which all means we'll be scootching around the bureau, which by default will go in the middle of the bedroom, until we can repair the holes in the wall and find a new closet rod that will be long enough to span the 12 foot wall.
And now it's raining.
Or, rather, our closet broke yesterday, sometime between B leaving for work at 8:40 am and my arriving home at 6:00.
The people who lived in our house before us installed those lovely, space saving, vinyl-coated wire shelving units in the master bedroom walk-in closet. I hate them. I have always hated them. They were hung too high, and every 18 or so inches, the clothes rod had a support bracket that meant I could never shove all the clothes in one direction.
Note the past tense?
Yesterday, I arrived home and neatened up the downstairs in preparation for having company come over. I went upstairs and emptied the trash in the bathrooms and took off my work cardigan. I did not look in the closet. I had no need to until I made another trip upstairs to deposit several pairs of shoes that had been living under the coffee table.
And that's when I saw it.
The shelving unit on the long wall of our closet, the one that is nearly 12 feet long, fell off the wall onto the floor. To be perfectly accurate, not really on the floor, but rather on the laundry baskets and shoes. And the shelving unit itself isn't on the floor because all of our clothes that were hung on the shelving unit are now sort of supporting the unit.
It's a big, big mess. Our clothes are getting wrinkled, I can't get to anything I want to wear, and there are approximately six large holes in the wall where the shelving unit used to be bolted into the wall.
Except I think bolted is a bit strong of a word. See, the shelving unit was attached to the wall with those little drywall screws, the kind that splay open behind the drywall when you can't attach them to a wall stud. And the people who lived in our house before us and installed the hideous shelving unit obviously did not see the need to attach said hideous shelving unit to the wall at the studs.
So the cumulation of their however-long use of the unit, and our few years' use, combined with the weight of our clothing, led the shelving unit to divorce itself from its wall and gravitate toward the floor.
And now my closet is broken. My closet is broken and we have a houseguest coming to stay this weekend. Piles of clothes that are on the guest room bed were to be hung this evening before our guest arrived, and now we will simply have to lay said clothes on the floor, because they cannot be hung.
And I am retrieving a piece of furniture from my parents this weekend -- a nice, antique bureau that was left to me by my grandfather. And it was to replace my current dresser, which would have then moved into the closet, replacing an ancient footlocker. But now, we cannot get to the footlocker because the hideous shelving unit is lying on top of it, and that means we cannot move the current dresser into the closet and that means we have no place to put the incoming bureau. Which all means we'll be scootching around the bureau, which by default will go in the middle of the bedroom, until we can repair the holes in the wall and find a new closet rod that will be long enough to span the 12 foot wall.
And now it's raining.
Monday, June 21, 2004
Tubing, Weddings, TV, Breakups, Quitters
What inherent quality in human personality creates the wide, wide, wide variety of ways of dealing with relationships?
Let me be clearer, since that lead sounds like total angsty-teen crap.
I went to yet another wedding this weekend. Throughout the reception, the bride was a wreck. Her face was pinched with stress, and when she smiled, it wasn't a "smile" so much as a grimace. A painful, angry grimace. Suggesting she eat something caused her to storm across the dancefloor clutching a plate of grapes. Not usually one to restrain her language, the number of "fucks" I heard from her mouth seemed somewhat excessive for "the happiest day of her life."
But she is who she is, and her new husband loves her and she loves him and they are, indeed, a very well-suited match. For all the terror and pissiness and, honestly, for the number of times she screamed at her new husband, their relationship is strong and neither one lets the other push too many buttons.
Conversely, my officemate just broke up with her long-term live-in boyfriend. In and of itself, this is not a big deal -- except that for her, it is. She is quitting her job, moving in with her parents for the rest of the summer, and indefinitely postponing any return to this city, where she's lived for the last 10 years and has many roots set down -- because it's just too hard for her to stay here.
The first situation -- I get it. When you love someone and you fight with them, you make up and figure out how to move on, even if the fight takes place at your wedding. The second situation -- damn, but it confuses the hell out of me.
I understand being distraught over a breakup. I understand needing space and time and a change of scenery. But quitting your job and moving seven states away because where you are is too hard to be -- that screams immaturity to me. Life sucks and is hard, and moving away won't make things better or different or easier.
Urgh.
Let me be clearer, since that lead sounds like total angsty-teen crap.
I went to yet another wedding this weekend. Throughout the reception, the bride was a wreck. Her face was pinched with stress, and when she smiled, it wasn't a "smile" so much as a grimace. A painful, angry grimace. Suggesting she eat something caused her to storm across the dancefloor clutching a plate of grapes. Not usually one to restrain her language, the number of "fucks" I heard from her mouth seemed somewhat excessive for "the happiest day of her life."
But she is who she is, and her new husband loves her and she loves him and they are, indeed, a very well-suited match. For all the terror and pissiness and, honestly, for the number of times she screamed at her new husband, their relationship is strong and neither one lets the other push too many buttons.
Conversely, my officemate just broke up with her long-term live-in boyfriend. In and of itself, this is not a big deal -- except that for her, it is. She is quitting her job, moving in with her parents for the rest of the summer, and indefinitely postponing any return to this city, where she's lived for the last 10 years and has many roots set down -- because it's just too hard for her to stay here.
The first situation -- I get it. When you love someone and you fight with them, you make up and figure out how to move on, even if the fight takes place at your wedding. The second situation -- damn, but it confuses the hell out of me.
I understand being distraught over a breakup. I understand needing space and time and a change of scenery. But quitting your job and moving seven states away because where you are is too hard to be -- that screams immaturity to me. Life sucks and is hard, and moving away won't make things better or different or easier.
Urgh.
Tuesday, June 15, 2004
Lines
Saturday morning I tried to go visit the new Apple store in my local mall.
First, I breezed through Nordstrom, flush with excitement over their bi-yearly BIG SALE. Women and kids, this time -- and shoes! I was hoping to find a swimsuit and normally wouldn't consider Nordstrom because, hey, who needs to spend $150 on two scraps of polyester and spandex, right? But the sale was substantial, and I eyemarked a couple of suits to try on once I'd indulged my inner computer geek.
As I rode the Nordstrom escalator upstairs at a quarter of 11 (the mall having been open only 45 minutes) I peered past the women's sportswear section down the wing of the mall where the new Apple store lives. No great bustling crowd, no undulating mass of people -- hmmm, I thought, not too crowded...excellent.
I did my aforementioned eyemarking and traipsed along to the Nordstrom exit. A group were congregating on the rail overlooking the lower level and I wondered why are they standing there? Are they waiting for someone in the fancy eyeglasses store?
And then I saw it.
The line.
It stretched before me, in orderly geekiness, all the way down the wing, around the rail at the far end, halfway back towards me, culminating in the least chaotic frenzy I've ever seen. Those queued up wore acid-washed jeans with t-shirts tucked all the way in; one man wore a turtleneck dicky under his German message tee. Another fellow had his laptop out -- although I wondered why he'd bring a Dell Inspiron to the opening of an Apple store. Two girls with minihandbags and lime green accessories teetered on their rope wedgies next to a couple with two small children, one in stroller.
It was unbelievable -- the length and breadth of the crowd. I shook my head. Not worth it, I mentally professed. Not just to walk inside and touch the merchandise. And indeed, I was correct. I have an Apple at home. I have an iPod, and a slick Mac at work. I have access to everything in that store at a discount because of my job. Not worth the lines. Not at all.
But even as I strolled past the hodgepodge of Applephilics, I marveled at their dedication. Some of them must have arrived before the mall was open. More would have walked in with the senior citizens doing their morning Mall Walk. Some were, perhaps, as foolhardy as I, arriving after the department stores opened. And the line wielded its power over them equally. Some would wait a short time, others hours. But all would wait, eagerly peering down the wing, mentally calculating how long till they could hold a gleaming 40 GB iPod.
It must be nice to have the drive, or at least the drive to inertia, that compels one to stand in a mall, waiting to visit a store that sells computers already available online, or in several other retail outlets. Brand loyalty to an extreme, is what I call that.
What is my extreme loyalty? What would I stand in line for? And how long would I be willing to wait?
First, I breezed through Nordstrom, flush with excitement over their bi-yearly BIG SALE. Women and kids, this time -- and shoes! I was hoping to find a swimsuit and normally wouldn't consider Nordstrom because, hey, who needs to spend $150 on two scraps of polyester and spandex, right? But the sale was substantial, and I eyemarked a couple of suits to try on once I'd indulged my inner computer geek.
As I rode the Nordstrom escalator upstairs at a quarter of 11 (the mall having been open only 45 minutes) I peered past the women's sportswear section down the wing of the mall where the new Apple store lives. No great bustling crowd, no undulating mass of people -- hmmm, I thought, not too crowded...excellent.
I did my aforementioned eyemarking and traipsed along to the Nordstrom exit. A group were congregating on the rail overlooking the lower level and I wondered why are they standing there? Are they waiting for someone in the fancy eyeglasses store?
And then I saw it.
The line.
It stretched before me, in orderly geekiness, all the way down the wing, around the rail at the far end, halfway back towards me, culminating in the least chaotic frenzy I've ever seen. Those queued up wore acid-washed jeans with t-shirts tucked all the way in; one man wore a turtleneck dicky under his German message tee. Another fellow had his laptop out -- although I wondered why he'd bring a Dell Inspiron to the opening of an Apple store. Two girls with minihandbags and lime green accessories teetered on their rope wedgies next to a couple with two small children, one in stroller.
It was unbelievable -- the length and breadth of the crowd. I shook my head. Not worth it, I mentally professed. Not just to walk inside and touch the merchandise. And indeed, I was correct. I have an Apple at home. I have an iPod, and a slick Mac at work. I have access to everything in that store at a discount because of my job. Not worth the lines. Not at all.
But even as I strolled past the hodgepodge of Applephilics, I marveled at their dedication. Some of them must have arrived before the mall was open. More would have walked in with the senior citizens doing their morning Mall Walk. Some were, perhaps, as foolhardy as I, arriving after the department stores opened. And the line wielded its power over them equally. Some would wait a short time, others hours. But all would wait, eagerly peering down the wing, mentally calculating how long till they could hold a gleaming 40 GB iPod.
It must be nice to have the drive, or at least the drive to inertia, that compels one to stand in a mall, waiting to visit a store that sells computers already available online, or in several other retail outlets. Brand loyalty to an extreme, is what I call that.
What is my extreme loyalty? What would I stand in line for? And how long would I be willing to wait?
Sunday, June 13, 2004
convo
sometimes i have these conversations with my husband that piss me off.
like tonight.
he says: "could you please turn on the light....OK fine I'll get it, [subtext: you're not moving fast enough]"
But I've already turned the light on.
or he sings, while I'm trying to type, "I-eye- will ALLways LOVE youOUOUEUEUEeeeewwww..."
and i he does this just to piss me off, i know.
I told him, he has to make me write. Make me blog, write, scribble, pout, whatever makes me put shit on paper. and he said he will.
but he is also annoying. and pissy.
and loveable.
"im'm going to bed," he just said. "are you going to keep blogging?"
"YES." was my defiant reply.
"OK. that would make me happy."
where did I find this man?
like tonight.
he says: "could you please turn on the light....OK fine I'll get it, [subtext: you're not moving fast enough]"
But I've already turned the light on.
or he sings, while I'm trying to type, "I-eye- will ALLways LOVE youOUOUEUEUEeeeewwww..."
and i he does this just to piss me off, i know.
I told him, he has to make me write. Make me blog, write, scribble, pout, whatever makes me put shit on paper. and he said he will.
but he is also annoying. and pissy.
and loveable.
"im'm going to bed," he just said. "are you going to keep blogging?"
"YES." was my defiant reply.
"OK. that would make me happy."
where did I find this man?
Friday, June 11, 2004
In Memoriam?
I had today off of work so that I, as a state employee, would be free to pay my respects to former president Ronald Reagan.
I have some issues with this.
Ronald Reagan is responsible for a lot of problems with this country as they stand. First and foremost, he is generally held responsible for imbuing the executive office with more power and stature. Logically, though, if the presidency increases, the legistature and the judiciary decrease. And this leads directly -- in a straight line -- to GWB's recent comment that laws should not be dictated by "rogue judges" who "legislate from the bench." And that seems to be in total contrast to the very fabric of this nation. I don't usually get all het up over politics -- it's not worth my sanity -- but someone has to uphold the Constitution, and that someone shouldn't be one person -- either GWB or WJC or JFKerry.
Ronald Reagan is also, at least in part, responsible for the extent of the AIDS epidemic in the early years because he refused to recognize it as a threat to the general population. As long as it was confined to queers and druggies, he was OK with letting it run rampant.
Ronald Reagan is responsible for the growth of the national debt, the tendency towards deficit spending, the reduction of social programs in favor of martial buildup. Ronald Reagan pushed this country farther and farther to the right, leading directly to the frightening phenomenon that is Shrub. He made scattered, man-of-the-people, straight-talking leadership attractive to a nation of people who are now wandering in the desert and don't even know they're looking for someone with a shred of shrewdness and diplomacy and concern for our place in the global community.
Rest in peace, Ronald Reagan. I feel for your family, who certainly cared for you deeply, but I feel more for our nation, which hasn't realized how deeply you wounded us during your eight years in office.
I have some issues with this.
Ronald Reagan is responsible for a lot of problems with this country as they stand. First and foremost, he is generally held responsible for imbuing the executive office with more power and stature. Logically, though, if the presidency increases, the legistature and the judiciary decrease. And this leads directly -- in a straight line -- to GWB's recent comment that laws should not be dictated by "rogue judges" who "legislate from the bench." And that seems to be in total contrast to the very fabric of this nation. I don't usually get all het up over politics -- it's not worth my sanity -- but someone has to uphold the Constitution, and that someone shouldn't be one person -- either GWB or WJC or JFKerry.
Ronald Reagan is also, at least in part, responsible for the extent of the AIDS epidemic in the early years because he refused to recognize it as a threat to the general population. As long as it was confined to queers and druggies, he was OK with letting it run rampant.
Ronald Reagan is responsible for the growth of the national debt, the tendency towards deficit spending, the reduction of social programs in favor of martial buildup. Ronald Reagan pushed this country farther and farther to the right, leading directly to the frightening phenomenon that is Shrub. He made scattered, man-of-the-people, straight-talking leadership attractive to a nation of people who are now wandering in the desert and don't even know they're looking for someone with a shred of shrewdness and diplomacy and concern for our place in the global community.
Rest in peace, Ronald Reagan. I feel for your family, who certainly cared for you deeply, but I feel more for our nation, which hasn't realized how deeply you wounded us during your eight years in office.
Wednesday, June 09, 2004
Suddenly, summer
I woke up this morning and realized it's mid-June. It is officially summer.
So, why don't I feel like summer? This year's seasonal shift hasn't really made its mark on me yet. I'm not taking a big vacation, I don't work around students, and I don't have kids. So nothing in my daily routine has changed that indicates, "Hey! It's effing summer, you office drone!"
I need to get out more. I need to enjoy the sunshine (when there is, in fact, sunshine), breathe the spicy scents of trees and flowers in bloom. It's time to go swimming and brown my skin in the sun (always with a helpful slathering of SPF 15, of course).
It's time to remember that my days cooped up in a back office don't have to affect my evenings, nights, and weekends. My time is my time, and it's now it's summertime!
So, why don't I feel like summer? This year's seasonal shift hasn't really made its mark on me yet. I'm not taking a big vacation, I don't work around students, and I don't have kids. So nothing in my daily routine has changed that indicates, "Hey! It's effing summer, you office drone!"
I need to get out more. I need to enjoy the sunshine (when there is, in fact, sunshine), breathe the spicy scents of trees and flowers in bloom. It's time to go swimming and brown my skin in the sun (always with a helpful slathering of SPF 15, of course).
It's time to remember that my days cooped up in a back office don't have to affect my evenings, nights, and weekends. My time is my time, and it's now it's summertime!
Thursday, June 03, 2004
Apples!
Austin is getting an Apple Store!
It's about damn time, that's what I have to say. Still trolling for information on events, promos, etc., that might be going on for the opening. Still looking for official information from Apple itself, not just the Austin American-Statesman.
::::sigh:::: It might be nice just to play in the store, without necessarily even buying anything.
It's about damn time, that's what I have to say. Still trolling for information on events, promos, etc., that might be going on for the opening. Still looking for official information from Apple itself, not just the Austin American-Statesman.
::::sigh:::: It might be nice just to play in the store, without necessarily even buying anything.
Wednesday, June 02, 2004
I don't understand
How can I have another cold? This must be allergies. Suddenly, with no warning, my head is once again cottony, my nose has returned to drippiness, and, yes, my eyes are again shriveling up with dryness.
Ew! I'm sick of this crap! Can the gods of sinus ailments please leave me alone?
Ew! I'm sick of this crap! Can the gods of sinus ailments please leave me alone?
