Happy New Year's Eve. Be Safe. 

New Year's Eve

Despite feeling like a total idiot, I decided not to go anywhere venue-like for New Year's Eve. I have this thing about crowds this time of year, and all of those warnings from my mother about DUIs on New Year's Eve really did the trick. I figure I did enough playing as a youngster that I can afford to stay home and be boring, even though I do have a babysitter tonight for the first New Year's Eve in 5 years.

Some more things I learned in 2004, while we are still here.

1. Quit while you are ahead. Every man you link up with for an extended period of time has a worse ex than the last. This current ex gives me a massive hernia. That binding thing I did months ago only lasted on a very temporary basis. Listen to your wonderful 6 foot 6 flaming friend and do that visualization thing with the mirrors. She will go away.

2. Mouse is the coolest cat on the planet. Any cat who talks like he does has a superior intelligence. Keep talking back to him, he needs attention.

3. Don't feed the cats anything but Iams. That other crap just ends up in a puddle of vomit.

4. Don't drink Tequila with your mother and your sister. Last time you did that they kicked you out of the mexican restaurant you got so angry.

5. You will need to buy an espresso machine to make your own quadruple shots. Five Starbucks locations have now cut you off.

6. Your inability to dedicate time to eat until you are absolutely starving is not doing anyone any good, either. Learn to eat snacks. You are a true bitch when you are hungry.

7. It is nice having people around you on a continuous basis who are proud of you, who respect you, and who encourage you. Continue to keep those people around, and cut off the emotional vampires.

8. As long as you hide from those scary dreams at night, your subconscious will be affected during the day. It is much better to remember it, talk about it, write about it or whatever to get it out of your system.

9. Keep buying things that smell nice. The California Baby bodywash with the bubble wand from Whole Foods smells great. Find out where Zee's momma found that vanilla/Sandalwood soap. Hit the Caswell Massey outlet in Chattanooga when you have the opportunity, and that Crabtree Evelyn place.

10. The Bartow Diner that came to town made you really happy. The same owners have one in Calhoun and Dalton, and the place is great. The food is actually pretty mediocre but it reminds you of some of the wonderful greasy spoons from childhood.

Pre New Year's Eve Reflections

I have been having such a nice week that I decided to start running through the things I have learned in 2004. Hopefully once I discover just what I have been able to sponge I can then make adequate resolutions fcr 2005.

1. Mistakes do happen, even when you think that you did something perfectly. This is okay and is allowed. Just fix it, and focus on how to change it for the future.

2. Some really terrible events occurred in the early part of 2004, between Valentine's Day and my birthday. These events caused me to go into a big black hole and contemplate how shitty some of my life was at that moment. Fortunately, I learned what I really want for myself, and I did a pretty good job at fixing the crap that was bringing me down. For those of you that I emotionally took advantage of during this time ( I recall a couple of 2 AM drunken sobbing phone calls) I apologize. I needed you and I hope you know that is why I behaved that way.

3. Longish separations ( 4-6 weeks) from your significant other really suck, but the welcome home sex is great.

4. The Hurricane Grill in South Panama City Beach is the most bad-ass restaurant in Florida. If you ever have the opportunity to hit this hole in the wall, I guarantee it is worth it. I can still taste the food, and now I am drooling on the keyboard.

5. Summertime commuting is the best. I love cutting my trip in half.

6. Don't bother to go back to Chattanooga just to go to the aquarium. This year, take your daughter to the real aquarium. Also, don't go to Chattanooga for a Diabetes Specialist. One of the Chattanooga hospitals was associated with the Joslin Diabetes Institute, but they lost their affiliation.

7. The movie "Hero" would be great on Hallucinogens. Buy it anyway, the colors are so beautiful.

8. I managed to finally watch "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre", for the second time. My fifteen year old pseudo-stepdaughter helped me out, by laughing at all of the horrible scenes so I didn't freak. I still can't watch " A House on Haunted Hill" but we're working on that one.

9. Zee doesn't like it when I pick up on his vibe and make him tell me what is wrong. Leave him alone for a while.

10. That Type A personality will give you a heart attack or a stroke unless you temper it, darling.

11. There were way too many incidences where you either stuck your foot in mouth or you clammed up because you were afraid to stick your foot in mouth. We need to find the middle ground, princess.

12. Apparently other people notice your impatience. Unless I want to work in some think tank in a little office all by myself, I better learn to accept that I have to explain myself.

13. Wrinkles make me unhappy. Quit wearing things that feel good but wrinkle. Our ultimate goal is to find natural fabrics that feel good and don't wrinkle. Starch only lasts so long.

14. Zee's hair advice has earned you praise. Wash every other day, never use conditioner unless you have been swimming, and then only use a dab after you shower and before you blowdry. Cut those ends yourself if need be, but be consistent with the every 3 month thing.

15. Wearing grandma's necklace, the one that she made out of her 7 melted down wedding rings, makes you feel sassy. Find more antique jewelry with good stories. Keep hitting that antique jewelry auction online and find that ring, dammit.

16. Keep instilling feng shui into your work area. It soothes your soul and makes you feel less stressed.

17. The only charitable thing you did this year was donate to the Salvation Army when you went on a monthly purge, along with your traditional gift to the JDA. You need to fix that in 2005.

18. Tod's are the best shoes ever. Continue to lie and tell everyone they are fake so they don't buy up all of your Tod's at the sole Nordstrom's in the state.

19. The quarterly shopping thing is keeping you in check financially. Let's continue doing that. The weekly thing wasn't helping anyone.

20. Continue to say please and thank you to everyone. It makes people feel appreciated and everyone needs that.

A light at the end of the bridge 

Xmas went fairly well and turned out to be okay. Received a digital camera that I have been drooling over for a year. I haven't had a camera since my parents borrowed mine to take to Europe 4 years ago and either lost it or broke it, they won't admit to either one. I fully intend to go haywire with mine. I hope that film class I just took was informational enough - my camera makes film and has editing capabilities for each photo still - I intend to use that for interesting pursuits.

Mediated between the rugrats, fought with my ex and his wife in the morning. Everything seemed to go fine until Cee started blah-blah-blahing about how he found out his 12 year old sister is smoking pot.
I got pretty angry and went haywire when I found out that his wife is afraid to confront her because she doesn't want to destroy their confidence. Did a healthy bit of screaming in the living room about how it is not her job to be a friend, etc., etc., and etc.

Soothed zee a little bit as we left - he gave me my xmas present and I did like it a lot and told him so. Wish he didn't feel like xmas presents have to be all or nothing. Some of the best presents received were the ones that were made from the heart, not the ones that cost a fortune. Case in point:
My Dad googled my name and discovered that I was a comic book character in a '40s comic book. He printed out the comic book pages available from the web on photo paper, and made a little notebook for me about it. It was very sweet and thoughtful.

This xmas seemed very emotional and trauma-drama filled, I am not sure why. Spent plenty of time crying and yelling, and now I just feel emotionally vacant and empty. Perhaps it was having my ex around to irritate me, or zee's xmas blues, or my daughter's wanton exposure to the xmas commercialism projected on TV. Whatever it was, I feel sad and worn out and glad the whole thing is over. Somewhat looking forward to New Year's - it will be the first I have had a babysitter so I might have the opportunity to go embrace my wilder self like old times.

Wishing everyone the best. Lift your chin up, smile, and pray for a wonderful 2005.

Happy Xmas eve

I am sorry for being such a whiny bitch. My day turned out just fine yesterday and I felt really badly about having a conniption. I went to my dad's house and ended up having a great time. Dad had imbibed to ease his stress - we went riding up and down the block in granny's newly restored ranchero, listening to Buffalo Springfield and generally acting like fools. Sat around and put together Charky's art desk for a couple of hours and ended up philosophizing...

That man needs to have a drink more often. He's great to talk to. I got a little uncomfortable when we started talking about my outrageous tuition that I seem to be determined to pay for myself. You know how those inner thoughts go... $60k in debt builds character, dammit. He insisted that he would pay for it, just let him know when my loan deferment is coming close.

I know that he really likes to make a whole lot of financial promises when he's intoxicated so I really can't count on that, but we had a great conversation anyway. I miss him - I wish we weren't so busy that I only get to see him but rarely.

Charky's art desk went fine... buy from IKEA. The directions were really crappy but somehow everything just seems to fit together perfectly, and looks great when you are done. Dad says the Svedes have it going on and I have to agree.

Leaving on my way to go pick up my pseudo-three year old stepson.

Merry Christmas...

Fuc@$ng Christmas Stress

Today was supposed to be beautiful serene and relaxed. HA!

Woke at noon - leave a message at my parents for my mom. Said I would be there at 3ish to put together the IKEA art desk I bought for Charky for xmas.

Talked to nutty ex at 2. He's blah-blah-blahing about how many presents he brought from podunk Missouri. If I had known he was going to spoil her rotten - for the first time ever, mind you - I would have told him to find her the f-ing barbie dreamhouse she has wanted for two weeks and completely expects. Remember that I have attempted to move the earth in search of one, it must be some horrific big ticket item this year because everyone is sold out. Feel terrible that I tried to be reasonable about xmas and I only bought her the desk and the supplies and a cute book that explains artist's lives to little kids. I understand this is a common problem with divorced parents - the noncustodial buys the love and all that bs. I just can't help it that I am a little miffed that I'm the one busting my ass to get somewhere in order to have more money for her and I, and he did it the easy way by popping some poor cripple's cherry who ended up his sugar momma. I remember the days of using men for money - I am proud to say I never worked the sex angle and I was mostly just a nice accessory/eye candy so I usually got what I wanted. Screw you, Cee, for being a whore and making me feel inadequate.

I got my next phone call 3o minutes ago from my Dad. Granted, he's ridiculously stressed, he just found out, after weeks of waiting, that he is getting the major sale of the year that will make his quota. I don't understand why he is so hard on himself - he's received all of the "CEO honors" and bullshit for the past six years or so. They made him a consultant this year because they were tired of doling out his commissions - I wouldn't want to pay some guy 3% of $100 million in crap either, but give me a break. So he threatened to quit when he realized that he hates being a manager and creative input and that he is much better off just motivating himself. I guess when you simply increase your salary by 25% and are missing the big chump change you most likely would do the same.

Sitting here with an absolute horrible case of indigestion, internally bitching because he insisted that I take the f-ing IKEA box home and put it together here. I'm glad he felt that I have enough room in my tiny 900 sq.foot hole in the wall to hide that thing. I'm sorry that his feng shui was upset by my wanting to accomplish it there because of the amount of room, and because I know it is the single biggest thing she'll be getting at their house for xmas. I can't compete with 1k worth of toys from my piece of sh@$ ex. I don't understand why it is such a big deal to hide the thing in their monstrous house and simply stick it in the back of the truck.

I love these people who insist that they only want to keep me calm and composed and happy. I wonder if I would be as successful being a full-time mom, a full-time grunt, and a full-time student with my 4.0 GPA if I was less stressed. I have discovered I am one of those people who is challenged by a nice amount of stress and speed - no wonder I was such a dust bunny (WOO-HOO, SUPERWOMAN!). Unfortunately, by my performance as of late, I am slipping under the amount of absolute sheer bullshit that I am putting up with... it's the little f-ing things that are killing me. They say women handle stress more negatively from a physical perspective. I guess I expect my first heart attack at 30.

Don't f&$k with me today 

Love for all of you 

My xmas blues

I am not sure if anyone else is as stressed as I am this xmas, but I need relief. I left work early today and was told, very sternly, that I need to spend all weekend off NOT thinking about work. I admit I often do, but only when I generally feel as though I am not accomplishing anything. Being stuck in major tasks that you can't finish because you are constantly interrupted by A. Bitchy, whiny coworkers; B. an emotionally fragile supervisor who really enjoys you laughing at their jokes; C. New tasks; D. A mother calling at all hours, anxious and upset over something new and xmas related; E. The weird smells in the office- today it was really greasy sausage balls that made me want to puke.

Ever since I hopped in my nasty old car I felt immediately sated and calm. My 2 hour 15 minute ride home honestly didn't bother me that badly, and I just kept envisioning my nice bed in a quiet house.

I have listened to a dozen people bitch about personal problems this week, and I am not really tired of it - this seems to be one of my rare moments when I feel capable and willing to embrace my path of shrinkdom. I sure have been touchy feelly and sensitive lately, and my cynical sense seems to have evaporated somewhat.

One friend has been informally told that his reserve unit will be deployed next year - either in its entirety or by picking members out randomly. I told him about that anecdotal segment they play for me every Tues. morning on NPR. The bit is about a soldier who recently died - they describe his life prior to service and who that face of a soldier really was.
I told my friend that I usually arrive at work that day with tears streaming down my face, the piece makes me so aware. We hear about the new death that occurs every day, but when do we really sit and understand that the soldier who died had a mother, friends, lovers, and children? When do we hear about that soldier's high school pranks, as told my his alumni and teachers? How often do we envision what it must be like to receive that letter with the fake Donald Rumsfeld signature - so cold and formal - describing how we will never see our loved one as long as we walk this lonely planet?

I told my friend that I don't agree with the whole thing, but yet I do. I told him that I don't think he should have such a volunteering, gung-ho attitude about going to Iraq. He gave me that "freedom isn't free" bullshit, and I told him that freedom isn't free because the world is run by men. Only a man would put himself in the position where the only last option is to choose to kill.

Why are you killing, my friend? For this country, that treats you like crap? For our protection, as you say, from people who have never been proven to have made an aggressive move against our nation? For our horribly mismanaged Executive chamber, who insists on jumping into action with no thought or logic?

I told my friend not to become one of those stories I hear on NPR on Tuesdays.

I believe we all have a lot to remember that is more important than what consumes us at this moment. Whether someone will die tomorrow is a little more significant when it is someone you know. This xmas, remember to get off your stupid, mundane life. Remember that someone in this world is a thousand times worse off than you are, and that person will not be likely to receive help or aid. Think about that poor man in Missouri, whose 23 year old pregnant wife had her stomach slit open.

I love you all, with all of your shortcomings and your petty problems. We all could use a big hug.

"My mother said that it was simple to keep a man, you must be a maid in the living room, a cook in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom. I said I'd hire the other two and take care of the bedroom bit." 

I can't get no satisfaction

Zee decided to update his weekly news on his girlfriend and read her blog last night, so he discovered his old wedding band on my kitchen witch. After much pleading, promises and cajoling I convinced him that my poor witch has possessed those rings for over two years, and that they belonged with her. He said he had been hunting for his for over two years. I asked him why he didn't ask me, I do know the location of every rock, crystal, book, lint and hidden hairball in this place. Zee asked me if I really would have liked him asking about his wedding band. He's so freaking logical sometimes. Virgo. If I remember, I will post his ultra crazy star chart. Even from an amateur point of view he looks nutty.

Went to go visit my best friend today. She moved to Philadelphia 1.5 years ago to live with her new husband. Like most married folk I know, she quickly became pregnant and had the most beautiful daughter with an absolutely beautiful name. I was excited about seeing her this week - she has been busy involved with another wedding from hell and I knew what time we would have together would be precious.

I ended up holding that baby for five hours. I can't help it that babies like me, they really do. I was an insanely sought after babysitter as a child, and was paid a whopping $12 an hour by the age of 13, as many parents were fighting for my services. Babies smell something wonderful on me. Zee says I smell like steak and that is just absolutely horrendous....I've been told my smell is of overripe fruit when my blood sugar is high and I would much rather stick with that.

Anyway, this beautiful baby and I had a wonderful time together. I had forgotten how great it is having a baby on your hip while you run around the house picking things up and entertaining baby. Was absolutely thankful and glad to give baby back, my biceps hurt.

So Zee says I am not allowed to have any for a while. This drives me absolutely insane, but his premise behind leaving me wanting is pretty valid. We have this theory that babies aren't an issue until you have that one, completely stupid brain-farting thought in the middle of coitus. It doesn't particularly have to be "Oh, I wish I had a baby" - as if anyone would be so stupid. It can be as simple as "AAAAAAHHHHHH I love you so much!", and whooops, whaddaya know.

I calmly explained to Zee that I had no issues, that I am not interested in completely wrecking my body and my mind again at this point in time. (My daughter was a bit of a miracle - she wasn't expected to turn out okay). I mentioned that we had a plan set for the future, and that I don't care how great that baby smelt, that is not an issue for me. He then admitted that the baby was an issue for him, so I am stuck with some nice cold showers for a few days or so. I thought babies loved me but until I saw my own daughter, combined with my best friend's baby, with Zee, I didn't realize that he is the baby king. Oh well. That's what you get for being with a man who more resembles a lipstick lesbian than a man. Love his sensitivity and romanticism, but for crying out loud.

Snow Berries 

Kitchen Witch

So for the first time in a while, my house is the designated congregation for Xmas rowdiness. The agenda is this: Wake at 6ish to the sounds of my five year old and Zee's 3 year old waking and going nuts at the Xmas tree. Ex-husband and wife to arrive 30 minutes later like usual. Open all of Zee's little boy's trucks ( He said he wanted trucks, so we bought about 70) and girlie's goofy toys from her dad. Hesitantly open my ex's presents for me. I really can't be that scared, last year he bought me a jean jacket and I was okay with it, but he did buy it at the Harley shop while he stopped to drool over the hog he wants. I can't really wear it out much because I feel like a biker redneck, but it is nice for going to the gas station in my pjs.

At about 9:30 we will kick everyone out and take Zee's little boy back to his crazy ex. I don't really want to go but if I don't it will turn into a 45 minute crying jag on her behalf about how much she loves him and how thankful she is that he is healthy and well and how she bought a ridiculously large red and green teddy complete with boas across the breast, and how she will be happy to show it to him.

Go to my parents, they seem thankful for the first time that xmas isn't beginning at their house. Last year 10 people crashed at their place on xmas eve, and it turned into a 1 AM slosh session. My sister had a pitcher of margaritas hidden under her bed, and we kept going back into her bedroom for refills. We went through that pretty fast, and then she broke out the bottle of Jose hidden in her jacket pocket. Needless to say, that xmas was a day of headaches and bitchiness.

So I didn't buy my ex anything last year, and I had to this year. I googled "tacky present", and then tried to froogle "kitsch tacky" and I honestly didn't find anything. Found out that the season 1 of "The Dukes of Hazzard" is at Target, but didn't feel he was worthy of a $40 present. Couldn't really think of anything for his new wife either.... I like her a lot, she seems okay, but beyond truckin around in her wheelchair and nearly running people over, along with her incessant pill popping, I don't know what she needs. I suggested little colored, noisy spokes for her wheelchair wheels, like I had on my bike as a kid, but Zee said that was mean. He suggested a special box for her insane stash of pills, but I said that was a little rude also.

After hunting and searching I bought my ex this leather box he can put all kinds of contraband in. Am stuffing it with his favorite candy. Bought her a birdhouse that looks like an angel - she collects them.

I was in the kitchen making my grocery list for this weird week when I glanced up above my oven. I have a little witch that my parent's brought me from Switzerland hanging there. She is really scary looking, and I love that. Most halloween crap made in America isn't scary enough. I have stuck Zee and my old wedding bands on her legs. I call her my divorce witch. I didn't know what to do with our old bands - it didn't seem fitting to hock them; my pagan friend's advice to bury them or throw them in a river didn't seem evil enough. So they hang there on her legs like some token of her rampage. Zee hasn't really noticed that his is there, but he will (HA!). I thought she was nice in the kitchen because Zee says I am a kitchen witch.

Wondered if my ex would troop around my house and see it. Cee (that is his name now) isn't very detail-oriented - I think he pops more of his wife's drugs than she does - but that might make him feel weird. I guess we will just see.

Depression solutions 

Cookies and reindeer: solutions for the holiday blues

I think men have the holiday blues worse than women, or maybe I am just being opinionated like usual. Women tend to throw ourselves in stupid holiday projects that consume our time that would normally be spent crying in bed with the pint of Haagen Daz. Men don't seem to have the ingrained ability to work on crap like this. I don't want to publish a book, "Christmas crafts men can make and won't feel like doo-doo heads", but you men are awfully whiny about these winter blues.

Cookies: Buy that crappy organic butter from Whole Foods with the PA cartoon cows on it. (Gotta tell ya, this evoked all kinds of memories of this formerly-mennonite raving rebel from Gettysburg I dated years ago) Prepare to spend an insane amount of money on the butter - $7 per pound - and make all kinds of cookies that turn out terrible. My christmas cookies always turn out great... dammit, I worked as a pastry chef... but this butter is the key ingredient to sloppy, all over the oven cookie failure. I am desperately praying that my grand marnier truffles on the agenda this weekend do much better, my poor Coast Guard serving brother is in the nice warm tropics of Panama and I thought he might want some gooey melted truffles for christmas.

Reindeer ornaments. If you didn't make these in preschool I don't know where you are from. Glue a couple together with some googley eyes and pompoms. Watch that glue gun, I have a nasty burn on my knee.... I sent a bunch in my xmas cards and I have a theory that the USPS is gonna go ape-sh#$ on the bulky, weird looking envelopes.

Men have all the advantages of getting over depression during the rest of the year. They go to the gym, play poker, go to strip clubs, take on a new woman, work more or whatever. Women normally handle depression with a ten pound weight gain and a nice Ralph Lauren comforter. Men, if you wanna keep your advantage, you have to smile at the nice Pakistani Whole Foods cashier while you purchase your ridiculous looking boxes of butter.

This chick had it right 

Hanging Threads

I have had an issue come up quite frequently in various conversations with a few friends. I thought I would address it because I consider myself somewhat of an expert in the topic.

No matter how secure a person may appear to be in their current relationship, you find that they allow these hanging threads to come along for the ride. Threads are those persons from the past that you keep around for various reasons. Physically this can be advantageous if you ever run into a dry patch - that person has been tested and tried and hopefully knows which paths to take. I can't comment on keeping threads around for purposes of your ego- that is just wrong and you need a houseplant to talk to.

The problem is, for the most part threads create problems in the future. They are a form of baggage, and face it, while in the midst of a provocative moment with someone new, the last thing you want to be mulling over is how your thread did it better last time you hooked up. All of that idiotic self-talk starts flying around in the heat of passion anyway. "Gee, I would get to see this (insert physical part here) on a regular basis if this thread was around. Surely their addiction/psychological issues/baggage/emotional dependency aren't that bad.

You have to set some barriers. A piece of ass is just a piece of ass, after all, no matter how you slice/dice/chop/saute/broil or bake it. First, decide if the thread is worth ruining your new prospect, because the thread has the potential to do so. Second, keep it simple. A few phone calls here and there are okay, but this is not your friend. This is a thread. Third, don't have grudge sex and call it a thread. It isn't the same thing, and that just turns into nastiness. Fourth, if you keep it mature and simplified enough, don't keep them around for extended periods of time. I don't believe in letting a thread spend the night, and you don't really need to make it a date.

This is just advice for what we used to call f@#$ buddies. Emotional threads are those strings you keep along just in case your relationship doesn't work, and you need to be in a relationship. Get over it. This is not wise. Why bother to do this whole back-and-forthing crap? If you end things efficiently and well, you have less stalker issues, less trauma, and people tend to get over you faster.

Remember, almost every relationship, no matter how insignificant and carnal, deserves a six month evaluation. Repair broken pieces and clean others. Do it with discretion and lucidly and you will find an easier life.

Not a bug, but fits my mood.  

Bugs and spiders

I didn't know that ladybugs have some kind of superstitious, Virgin Mary is coming to get you element, but they do. I was always told not to kill ladybugs because they are friendly and cute, they will sit on your hand and they won't pee on it like a gecko.

Someone I know has an office infiltrated by an insane amount of ladybugs. Now me, I actually like and respect bugs, I would consider this some kind of compliment. Didn't you read "A cricket in Times Square" when you were little? Crickets are good luck. Ladybugs are even cuter - why wouldn't you feel blessed? But this shadowy dark office dweller wants to exterminate these poor little friendly ladybugs, and doesn't realize that fate has knocked on his door and given him some friends with like minded intellectual pursuits (eat the living, dammit!).

Arachnids are a completely different story. My sister has this God-awful tale of early childhood in the Lake Tahoe foothills. She awoke one night to feel something crawling on her chest. She peeks her head under the covers and DUM-DUM-DUM there is the biggest black widow she would ever see perched five inches higher than her navel. My poor sister kept squeeking, "Mommmmmmmm" and noone came. Finally, after an eternity or so, she gathered up the spider in her blanket, threw it across the bedroom, and screamed....

( The story gets worse but I have to finish it. Dad found the spider and left it in a mason jar on the bar in the living room. The next day, my sister comes home from school, and finds the jar empty. My Dad insisted that the spider had escaped and didn't cop up until my sister was in tears at bedtime, refusing to go to sleep.)

I had a similar event happen sometime in the '90s, but that was a little different. I was living in my parent's house for just about the last time, and I had decided to come home early (4 AM) because I couldn't draw my Escher pictures in my fuzzy hallucinatory state over at my boyfriend's house. They were too busy dropping things, playing UF Orb at an insane decibel, and playing with the laser pointer and the cats.

Anyway, I sat on my big virginal bed ( I kept that bed sacrosanct for a full ten years, thank you. Wanted happy dreams in that bed) with my happy turtle lamp on and drew my Escher drawings. My fingers were all smudgy and yucky but those boxes were awesome. I felt something tickle-tickle on my thigh and knew it was some horrific eight-legged freak. I ended up turning circles on my bed, around and around, hiding from the freak and my shadow for a full 3 hours. Finally the AJC man clunked the paper on the porch and I hid outside in the dawn, reading my paper, drinking my coffee, and dreading that hazy headache that always sets in with the dawn.

Wanna play? 

Wanna play?

Zee and I went to an Xmas/Housewarming party last night, and we were excited because we were going to play poker. I learned a bunch of new things, and I thought I would share.

A. Don't drink too much. I had a "mother's little helper" on top of no dinner along with four sour apples and two dos equis. I threw up at about midnight, and promptly passed out on Zee's best friend's luscious bed upstairs.

B. There are three things to pay attention to in poker, and you better have a good grasp on at least two to play well. The first is reading your opponent. The second is statistical analysis, which in it's purest form is counting cards. The third is sheer balls. If you don't have them and you play conservative you will still get your heinie kicked.

C. Men are extremely sexy when playing for keeps, and are ridiculously sweet to the lone female playing. This can work to your advantage, but as I love all of those boys, I refused to work it.

I ended up losing out pretty quick because I couldn't afford to re-buy in too much. I also had this feeling about ten minutes into the game that I felt stoned and my head was swimming so I didn't think it would be a good idea to go VISA on my wallet. I did learn that I pay way too much attention to the statistics, and if I want to play that way I better learn to count cards. I have no doubt that my photographic memory would allow me to do that, but I honestly don't like gambling enough to put in the effort. Needless to say, my "I wanna wear an Elvis costume and get married in Vegas" man doesn't like my lack of persistence in this department. Oh well. When we go to Vegas I assume I will spend most of my time going to shows and getting lap dances.

Zee played very well, ( he is very good ) and brought home about four times what he put in. I was very proud. Again, men are extremely sexy when sitting around the table lying to eachother for the purpose of winning money. I love the excitement and the little nervous twitches around the mouth and eyebrows. Most men can't act, it isn't their fault. It all ends up okay as long as they don't rebuy in four times like one of the players did last night (I'm glad I am not him... I am sure his girlfriend took a chunk out of his ass afterward).

Ha, Ha, I stayed home today! No traffic or other yucky stuff for me! 

SLACKER DAY! YAY!

Oh yes, I so did not go to work today... in fact, it is now 3 PM and I have been officially awake for an hour. Whatta life. I understand that sleeping in can get a little old. Usually when you start living so that you don't wake up til afternoon, your bedtime starts to correspond - ie. going dancing til 5 am then drinking a bottle of red to put ya out - so you really don't end up getting those luscious 12-14 hour sleep escapes. However, poor little me is running on a standard 4.5-5 per night, during the week, and it makes me feel absolutely sexy to do something completely frivolous like sleep for 14 hours.

I made my first batch of christmas cookies last night, and I used this butter that was ranked the best by Gourmet magazine. Apparently when you use really incredible butter, cookies and poundcakes taste so much better. My butter was from some organic farm in PA and had cute little cartoon cows on it.

My cookies were crappy. I know this is not about my cooking skills... Zee didn't like them either, though. Maybe we just don't like shortbread. However, now I am seriously reconsidering spending $7 for a pound of butter, which really only translates to one batch of crappy shortbread.

Bearer of Bad News

I have discovered that the line of work I am in requires me to be the bearer of bad news. This can get a little old. I spend an awful lot of time telling someone that they are doing something wrong, that they have to change it, or else. Kind of makes me feel bad. I have all of these hopes and dreams of doing positive things and getting paid for it and for the most part I am working with all of these burned out people who were probably do-gooders a long time ago also.

Sweet thing to do for your sweetie

So I need to post an entry that is positive. Ever since my ultra-nice English teacher in high school told me how negative I was, I am now even more self-critical about the amount of whining, bitching and moaning I truly do. It is not as if I only view the negative, I just end up sounding sappy and stoned when I start talking about the things that make me happy.

My boyfriend did something this weekend that made me really happy. I have heard of quite a few really sweet things you can do for your sweetie, so I thought I would share in case you need pointers.

I am now going to call my boyfriend "Zee". I hate that word, "boyfriend". It sounds so uncommitted, doesn't it?

My ex and his wife were coming to visit this weekend, and like usual I was stressing about having to come home from work on Friday and clean house. I understand that a lot of people do that crap, but when you commute almost three hours per day, that really sucks. If I can drag my ass out the door when I get home and go to the gym I am lucky. And you can't give me that shit about how housecleaning is exercise.

So anyway, usually by the time I get to where I can houseclean I end up doing laundry. I have no earthly idea how a household of three goes through so much laundry, considering my daughter runs around half-nekkid like some hooligan most of the time. Don't accuse me of being a bad mother because I won't make her get dressed. Apparently I had a nudist issue as a child, too, and I know her Dad is a nudist. I mean, tell the truth. Don't you feel better about yourself nekkid?

Folding and hanging up the laundry is the worst part. It does make me feel enormously better because I hate to do it so much, but I honestly would rather scrub grout or clean the toilet.

I am on my way home Fri., and like usual traffic sucks, and my mind is floating in eighty different directions, and I am realizing my car smells funny. I pull down the last stretch of "Georgia highway" (this can be anything from a two laner to a 6 lane road - completely weird to call it a highway if you ask me) and I am hauling ass like usual and I pass this ridiculously cute yellow car. I am in the left lane fixing to merge into the right (another GA anomaly) so I speed up to about 80 and cut in front of the yellow car, which is driving slow (50, I am a moron) and holding up traffic. It is only after I bother to check the rearview to scope the hood that I realize it is my dad driving home my grandma's recently restored Ford Ranchero from the restoration guy's shop. Whoops. I picked up my daughter from day care, and went up to my Parent's house to grab my very first plastic christmas tree that was still sitting in my mom's truck 2 weeks after purchase, and all of the online purchases that I had sent to their house, and continue ogling the car. Commit to dinner as long as my ex hasn't shown yet. Try to call zee to make sure ex isn't at my house waiting for me but he doesn't answer the phone so I start growling. Tell my poor parents they have to wait on my company - I will call them from home when I confirm that ex isn't there.

Drive home loaded down with plastic christmas tree, UPSed boxes, and a very hyperactive 5 year old. Pray towards the Valium God. Consider doing a chinese firedrill at the railroad tracks just to get out of the car.

Pull up at house and notice the neighbor's ungodly christmas decorations, including the scary 8 foot tall Frosty that makes me shake. Open my front door - and - WHALA! - my house is impeccable. I am not kidding when I tell you that Zee busted his ass cleaning that place before I got home. Furniture rearranged the right way to accomodate my massive tree, dusted, vacuumed, scrubbed, put away and swept. My anxiety disappeared out the door and I let out the biggest sigh of relief. My Friday felt solved, ya know? That kind of contentment usually only comes from sex.

Consider this an option for your mate if they are ridiculously stressed and could use a perk. Just thinking about it makes me all warm and tingly.

I needed a chick like this last night 

Gag it, buddy. You are a moron.

Last night, my ex-husband and his new wife came over for some drinks and a movie. After about an hour of his normal conversation (blah, blah, blah this and on, and on, and on - no breathing required from this human evolutionary equivalent of a cockroach) along with his usual couchside movie watching diatribe, (why you feel you have to loudly comment on movies with others around I have no clue) I began to have really insane, violent visions that made me laugh out loud like some lunatic.

We were watching "The Chronicles of Riddick". I like this movie for the sci-fi junk and because I can get away with watching it without admitting to my boyfriend whatta hottie Vin Diesel is, because he likes sci fi movies also. The movie has lots of violent fight scenes with spears and such. I envisioned creating a spear with a couple of socks strapped to the end, and then impaling my ex in the mouth with the end so that he couldn't talk. I later told my boyfriend about my visions and he took it the wrong way, suggesting a ball gag a la "Pulp Fiction". I don't intend to go masochistic on my ex, I just want him to shut the fu*& up most of the time.

EDUMACATION Inc. 

Crappy GA schools

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San Ramon Valley High School's robotics class article is located here:
http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2004/12/04/BAGI0A6B5C1.DTL&type=science

Many of the kids I went to junior high with decided to attend the newly built high school south of our town. I saw this article about San Ramon Valley High in the San Francisco Chronicle online, and it really struck a cord.

Apparently San Ramon offers a robotics course for its students, and they have been competing in a regional and state competition called FIRST - (For Inspiration and Recognition of Science and Technology) Robotics Competition, which the Chronicle hails as the "Super Bowl of robotics competitions for geeks". This year they have created some dune-buggy esque robot called "Seabiscuit".

I have been commenting for years that California schools are ridiculously better than any school in Georgia. Unless you attend some magnet school, I have never heard of a robotics course being offered in a GA high school. (CAUTION: Every new Georgia install complains about how their home state is better than Georgia, whether it is the traffic, the cities, the weather, or etc. Do not see me as some typical transplant who simply misses their home state. I believe I have valid logical conclusions that address my problems with GA.)

NPR did a recent series about a high school in San Jose, CA, that is having issues because of the high attendance on behalf of extremely wealthy asian students. Local white residents complain that they cannot afford to live in this town and send their kids to this school. I remember a lot of this in my own town in the East Bay. Approx. 1/3 of the student body was asian, and these kids were the most intelligent and committed students I have ever known. There is no doubt that these first generation students are pushed way more than lazy Americans, and that they end up attending better universities and getting better jobs than us. However, the racial divide in these schools are pushing the envelope with middle and lower class Californian students, who are forced to work harder and smarter in order to earn success in their public school educations. This is a good thing.

The simple fact is that California educators approach finance better than Georgia educators do. I remember having less resources in CA - most books were old, falling apart and hard to come by. Paper was also a high commodity, and you had less teacher provided handouts. Computers were fewer - I think that there were computers in the lab and in the library. However, the teachers were incredibly intelligent, and most had Doctorates or Masters degrees in Education. The teachers I had were better paid and generally had better morale. Most were prime examples of complete sources for inspiration. They taught subjects within their classes that were more difficult, more comprehensive, and better organized. I don't remember a single teacher, whether it was in the wealthy community of Northern CA that I lived, or the largely-hispanic community in Southern CA, that was not completely entrenched in a desire to teach these kids to be the leaders of our country. These teachers were not in their profession because an education degree was easier, or because of the job perks of having summers and holidays off work. A prime example of the huge divide in learning between CA and GA was my first experience in Georgia - the 8th grade English class was reading a "Diary of Anne Frank", which we had read a full 4 years earlier, in 4th grade, in California.

The truth is that science and technology are underfunded and not well taught across the country. Americans are in no way near leading the pack when it comes to tech and science jobs, and we are beginning to fail in this new age of the global economy based in technology.

Why shouldn't high school students be taking courses in robotics or biochemistry, as many of the kids I left in CA went on to do in their high schools? How will Americans capitalize on the cure for AIDS, Diabetes, cancer, or cardiac diseases if we don't prepare our future generations for the higher evolution that has evolved in biochemistry? How can we fight the wave of IT outsourcing that has occurred, if we cannot produce these workers, such as that in India, that are smarter, more tech-savvy, and are willing to work for cheaper pay?