Archive for February, 2008

Long Day

{ February 29, 2008 @ 4:10 am } · { These people are killing me, aging, birthday, life, mean people, online dating, random thoughts, relationships, what am I doing with my life?, work }
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9:30 a.m.

I took a little break at work and I checked my personals inbox.  Of course I no longer do online dating, but for whatever reason (read:  laziness), I haven’t taken down my profile.  I still check my inbox every now and then, mostly for amusement purposes.  Today I got a message that reads as follows:

[I'm omitting the part that has his name and email address.  But apparently his last name is "thick"]

PS .. thick like ALAN Thicke the Actor … I know what you were thinking … and I am not a all fery, Athletic and Built.  text me for fastest reaction time

555-123-4567 … text me if you want to discuss me over dinner …

Huh?  What the hell is he talking about?  And what is “fery”?  Usually when people have bad grammar and/or spelling, I can still figure out what they are trying to say, but not this time.

Oh, and dude?  1985 called and wants its pop culture references back.  Has this guy not watched any tv in 20 years or what?  I emailed him back and said, “Dude, no thanks.   You are no Kirk Cameron.”

1:45 p.m.

I had a loud and angry argument with my boss.  He asks for my opinion, but he really only wants it if I agree with him.  He thinks I’m trying to be contrary and narrow-minded when actually I’m just telling him what the law is.  As since I’m the one reading all the cases, I should know.  I told him (as I have before) that if doesn’t want my opinion, then he shouldn’t ask for it.  The argument when on and he got mad and told me not to talk to him that way, blah blah blah. 

I ended up in tears.  Which I hate.  I can’t help it – I always go to the tears when I am frustrated.  And I know, there is no crying in the law, but you know how it is….the tears just come and can be hard to stop.

4:30

I get back to work after a trip to court.  My boss called me into his office where he was sitting with one of his clients, who for the sake of this story we will call Tom.   Tom is in our office a lot, so I know him pretty well.  I am not involved in his case(s).  My boss wanted to run a letter that he was drafting by me.  So he told me about it and asked me to look through a photo album that was sitting on his desk.  I opened it up, and it was filthy pictures Tom and and his ex-girlfriend naked and engaged in various sexual acts.  Mind you, Tom was SITTING RIGHT THERE when I opened this album.  I closed it immediately and said, “I don’t want to look at this”.    

What was my boss thinking??  Why the hell would he ask me to look at that with Tom sitting there?  I was so embarrassed.  I could maybe understand having to look at such pictures if it had a bearing on a case with which I was involved.  I am not at all involved in that case.  My boss just has no sense of boundaries.  But I was disgusted.  I almost cried again when I went back to my office, because I felt disrespected again.

6:30 p.m.

B called me when we were both on our way home from work.  Although he didn’t ask, I told him that I had a horrible day at work, and told him about it.  To which he responded with the ever popular “don’t complain if you aren’t willing to do something about it.”  Of course I know that makes sense.  But it absolutely is not what I wanted to hear.  If that is what I wanted to hear, I would have called my mother.  In fact, I told him he should call my mother and the two of them could bitch about how stupid I am, that way they can get it out of their system.  Jump right into my nightmare, B.

7:15

I got home to find a lovely letter from my health insurance company informing me that since I am so old and have entered an entirely new age range, my premuim will be increased. 

Great. 

Kick me while I’m down, Blue Cross Blue Shield.  As if I didn’t feel bad enough about the 30.   Now I am apparently a much bigger health risk.  Perfect.

8:00 p.m.

Lost.   Sigh.  WTF…..mind time travel??  I’m am very very close to my pain threshhold with this show.  Maybe I’m not evolved enough or imaginative enough or whatever, but the thing is, I watch tv for entertainment.  I like to be spoon-fed with it.  I don’t like to have to try so hard to understand something.  I literally have to read a recap of it every Friday so that I can try to make sense of what I watched.  Cut me a break here, Lost writers.  Please start writing stuff that makes sense.  And if nothing else, give me some more Kate and Sawyer.

Good night, folks.  And thank God tomorrow is Friday. 

It’s Official

{ February 27, 2008 @ 5:31 am } · { aging, birthday, dating, love, neuroses }
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I have kissed my twenties good-bye.  

Although, in all truth, they were pretty boring for the most part, so I don’t know why I miss them already.  Too much wasted youth.

I would revisit the post I wrote several months ago about some goals I set for myself to meet before my birthday, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t do any of them, so I’m not even going to look.  No need to start off on the wrong foot.

But anyway, I believe I’ve reached the whining threshhold on that topic, so I’ll stop.  Since we had the party last weekend, this weekend of my actual birthday was pretty tame.  B and I went out with some friends on Saturday night and then later to the bar.  We toasted out my 20s a couple of times, and it was pretty laid back, but still fun.

When B and I got home, he just gave me a good long hug, and nuzzled my neck, and just held me in his arms for a long moment.  He said he knew that I was dreading the 30, but that I shouldn’t feel bad about it – he still loves me.  I think that is as good as I’m going to get from him, and that’s ok.  It wasn’t the grand declaration of love that my dreams are made of, but it’ll do. 

I only see B on the weekends, so during the week when I’m in bed before I fall asleep, when I wake up, and when I’m daydreaming, I always think of some moment from the last time I saw B – something he said, a way that he touched me, etc.  I go back to that moment all week, until it is replaced with a new one.  I know how incredibly lame that sounds, but it just makes me feel good to think about since I don’t see him that much.  Anyway, that moment (above) is the one I’m thinking about this week.  It was my favorite.

Now, to depart from the warm and fuzzies, I have a disgusting litte story about some new sheets I bought.  I took them out of the package to wash them.  I was talking on the phone to B at the time, and I was absentmindedly picking at them, when it occurred to me that I just picked out several long hairs from the sheets.  Gross.  I mentioned it to B, but I thought, oh well, I’m getting ready to wash them anyway, so it should be fine.  But then when I got off the phone, I shook them out to get them unfolded before throwing them in the washing machine.  I notice there was something crusty all over the fitted sheet.  I literally gagged in my mouth.  How gross is that?  I’m pretty sure I have chlamydia now, just from the contact.  But I did wash my hands really well right away, so hopefully that helped. 

Meme – Seven Random Facts

{ February 23, 2008 @ 5:04 am } · { meme }
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I’m participating in a (with a?) meme as posted by Karalina.   The rules are:

# Link to the person who tagged you
# Post the rules on your blog.
# Share seven random and/or weird facts about yourself on your blog.
# Tag seven random people at the end of your post, and include links to their blogs.
# Leave a comment on their blogs so that they know they have been tagged.

1.  I took organ lessons for years as a child/teenager and played at church and at weddings.  I don’t play in public anymore because it made me too nervious, but I still play the piano nearly every day.

2.  I love to do crossword puzzles, but I only do them in pen because using a pencil feels like cheating

3.  I started collecting stamps as part of a project in my 4th grade gifted class, and I still have my collection.  I keep my stamp collection a secret because it is so nerdy.

4.  When I eat cookies, I eat all the outside edges first, and save the middle (my favorite part) for the end. 

5.  I just got rid of 15 pairs of shoes yesterday and it didn’t even make a dent in the shoe pile in my room.  But I probably only have about 5 pairs in my regular rotation.

6. Pet stores make me sad because of the homeless cats, but sometimes I go in there anyway and basically just torture myself by looking at the cats in small cages.  The older ones who have gotten separated from their former owners for one reason or another absolutely break my heart.  And yet I have never adopted one.

7.  I love all things pink. 

I’m pretty sure I just made myself sound not so cool.  But it is what it is. 

I’m not tagging anyone specifically, just participate if you so desire!

Because I’m Competitive

{ February 22, 2008 @ 2:16 am } · { what am I doing with my life?, work }
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SF wrote about her pathetic day yesterday.  And though I am well aware how hideously boring defending a deposition can be, particularly when your client keeps talking and talking and talking, as long as there is an award to be won for the most pathetic day, I thought I may as well give it my best shot.   I think I’ve got a very very good chance.

My day started with me picking up my boss.  He is disabled and has a special van to ride in.  Since we were going to court together, I picked him up and away we went.  Court went just like we wanted it to go, so that part was fine.  But then we had to waste a few hours downtown because my boss had a noon appointment with the the entity that gives us our licenses to practice law, and as we all know, he who giveth can certainly taketh away.  I live in fear of these folks, and I didn’t even want to be in their office, much less give them my name.  What I’m trying to say is that is that there is never an occasion when visiting these folks is a good thing.  Luckily the appointment wasn’t for me, but still.

 Anyway, so we made it through that appointment and went out to find that our van had been towed.  Ugh.  And as Murphy’s law would have it, my cell phone’s battery was dead, and my boss had forgotten to bring his.  Luckily the security guards in the building were very nice and allowed us to make calls for the next 30 minutes, begging the fine folks at the city’s central auto pound to allow me to come retrieve my boss’s van, despite that my name is not on the registration, and I certainly didn’t have his title with me.  These folks are very serious about having the proper paperwork to get your car back.  Finally, we got the thumbs up, and I hopped in a cab to take me to the auto pound.  Of course, I picked the one cabbie who didn’t know how to get to the address, but eventually I got there.  Stood in line for a while and then got the van.  I picked up my boss and away we went.  And though it felt like it should have been at 9:00 p.m., it was actually only 3:00, so yay, we still have time to go back to the office and work.

Ah, just another day at the office.  I really need to get a new job.

Is it just me?

{ February 20, 2008 @ 3:40 am } · { dirty, do your job, is it just me? }
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So B and I checked into the hotel when we went back home for my party.  We took a nap, did some other hotel room activities, and then I got up to shower to get ready for the party.  I started my shower, and when I reached for my shampoo, I noticed a whole CLUMP of long black curly hair hanging on the side of the shower.  I started freaking out, and not though I was not exactly screaming, I was definitely making noise and calling for B.  B  came running in, finding me half wet and half wrapped in a towel, shrinking away from the wall.  He thought I saw a rat or that there was “a big turd floating in the bathtub”. 

He thought I was overreacting.  He grabbed some kleenex and wiped the hair off for me.  I would have gotten completely out and called the front desk, but I was, after all, wet and naked, so I just finished my shower.  Needless to say, I was ranting to B once I finished my shower, and he told me to calm down, that it wasn’t that big of a deal.  I told him I was going to complain about it, but he didn’t want me to.  So I just waited for him to get in the shower before calling the front desk. 

Then my mom called, and I told her about it, and she told me to just relax and get ready.  

 But come on, that is seriously gross, right?  I cannot handle other people’s hair (unless it is attached to their head).  I used to freak out when my stepsisters put their hair on the shower walls, and I know them and their hair.  But a stranger’s hair??  *Shudder*

30ish

{ February 20, 2008 @ 3:26 am } · { aging, birthday, family, friends, life, love, relationships }
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So I am turning 30 on Sunday, a fact, which, if you’ve been paying attention, has been often lamented in my blog.  My dad, stepmom, and sister will be celebrating my birthday in Cabo, but because of a trial I have starting the week after, I am not able to go.  So my mom planned to come into town on Thursday and stay the weekend.  But on Wednesday of last week, she called and told me that they was coming tomorrow (last Thursday) instead of this Thursday.  Yikes. 

All I could think was that I needed to get home right away and clean my house.  But then I though, wait, why the hell are they coming a week early?  And who is “they” anyway?  It was supposed to just be my mom.  Anyway, as it turns out, my mom planned a surprise birthday party for me on Saturday.  But it was taking place back home, not here where I live.  So she had to tell me because she really didn’t have a way to get me there otherwise.   Basically everyone I know was in on the secret. 

Including B.  So I texted him and told him that he was in big trouble and that we were going to have a talk about the circle of trust, and who is in the circle of trust (me and him) and who is not (my mother).  Really it is more of a line than a circle, but whatever. 

So then I was all in a panic.  Who was coming to this party?  I had to find something to wear, and I need to have my highlights done, and on and on and on.  Oh, and apparently B would now be meeting my entire family all at once.  Yikes.  I wasn’t ready.  Mind you, he hadn’t even met any of my parents (I have 4) or my sister.  Let alone aunts, uncles, cousins, grandma, etc.  So I was feeling a little overwhelmed (which I think contributed to how upset I felt about V-Day). 

My sister flew in on Friday night, and on Saturday, B came over to my house, picked us up and drove us back home for the party.   

B had booked a room for us at the same hotel where all of the out-of-town guests were staying….including all of my parents.  Even though I am thisclose to 30 years old, I still feel like awkward about telling my dad that I’m sharing a hotel room with my boyfriend.  But whatever. 

Anyway, the party was wonderful.  So much fun.  All of my friends, a lot of my family, and we just a really good time all around.  It just made me feel special, especially since a lot of the guests had to travel from out of town.  And my mom is fantastic, planning the whole thing for me from halfway across the country.  She loves me.   

AND I got several spa gift certificates….ahhhh, I do so love a good massage.  I think I might schedule a massage for this weekend on my actual birthday.  And maybe a pedi too.

Great Expectations

{ February 18, 2008 @ 10:36 pm } · { dating, love, relationships, worries }
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Valentine’s Day?  Sucked.

Like I said in my last post, I was trying really hard to not have expectations.  But, alas, I did.  Expectations which, low as they may have been, were not in any way met.

He didn’t even send me a card.  Nothing.  And mind you, I know he sent a card to his mother.  And he is not a mama’s boy or anything, so I thought that was nice.  But he was AT THE STORE, looking at cards, and apparently it didn’t occur to him to get me a card.  And what’s more?  He didn’t say anything about the card I sent him.  The card I sent him wherein I spilled my guts.    Not one word. 

So, obviously, I was mad.  I went home from work, saw that he hadn’t sent me a card, threw myself down on my bed and cried.  Clearly, I thought, my boyfriend doesn’t give a shit about me.  My mom and stepdad flew into town on Thursday for my (kinda) surprise birthday party (more on that later), so I had to dust myself off, fix my makeup and go meet them for dinner.  My mother did give me a Valentine’s Day gift.  I can always count on her at least. 

Anyway, I was going to tell him that it hurt my feelings, but I didn’t want to pick a fight because we had to go out of town for my birthday party on Saturday.  And when I talked to him on Thursday, he was all upset because he learned that he didn’t get a job that he really wanted, and I didn’t want to kick him while he was down.  It wasn’t until about our third phone call of the day that he even remembered to tell me Happy Valentine’s Day, which it so clearly was not.  So I just went on harboring ill will towards him.  On Saturday he came to pick me up to go to the party, and he brought me some chocolates and a card, both of which I’m pretty sure were an afterthought.  But it was enough to appease me and for me to get over it.  Truly, I didn’t care about any kind of gift or anything, but an ackowledgment that he cares for me in some way would be nice.  Sometime before I die, preferably. 

But it was definitely my worst Valentine’s Day ever.  And that is saying something, considering I am 29 years old (for 6 more days!) and have never had a boyfriend on V-Day.  It is the expectations that will kill you.  But then again, I’m not sure no expectations is necessarily a good thing either.   

Please Mr. Postman

{ February 13, 2008 @ 5:04 pm } · { dating, love, neuroses, random thoughts, relationships, vomiting, worries }
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Still having the doldrums over here.  I think it is the lack of sunlight.

Ah, crap, my boss just interrupted me.  Seriously, I wish he would leave me alone.  Clearly I’m busy here.

 Ok, got him all squared away.  Now where was I?  Oh, right, whining about my boring life.  Nothing to write about.

 So tomorrow is Valentine’s Day.  I’ve never had a boyfriend on Valentine’s Day before.  But I’m not sure that B and I are going to celebrate it in any way.  He hasn’t mentioned it, and neither have I.  I guess because we never see each other during the week, although it certainly isn’t impossible.  So I’m really really trying not to have expectations.  But there is this little voice in the back of my head that is secretly hoping that he’ll send me flowers. 

I put a card for him in the mail yesterday.  I sat on the sofa for a while, thinking about what to write.   I was drafting the note on my computer first, as I didn’t trust myself to get it right the first time.  And as I started writing, I started crying.  I don’t know why, just hit with my feelings for him all of the sudden, I guess.  Then again, I cry every week when I watch The Biggest Loser too (and sometimes Oprah), so maybe I’m just a big baby.   But anyway, I wrote him a letter in the card, telling him how I feel about him.  He and I have never really opened up to each other about our feelings (hopefully I’m not the only one who has them), so I think it will be nice for him to hear. 

But then, as soon as I released my card into wild via the USPS box in the basement of my work building, I started to feel a little anxious about it.  What if he doesn’t feel the same?  What if he thinks I’m coming out of left field with this stuff?  But, ultimately, I know that is silly.  I’ve been dating this man for a year, and if can’t understand my feeling and/or reciprocate them, I kinda need to know that.   

In other news, I threw up again this weekend while I was out with B – this time at the restaurant.  I am becoming one classy broad.  Can’t take me anywhere.  Because apparently?  I am now a chronic vomiter (vomitor? vomitress?).  Anyway, yeah.  Not good.  And no, I’m not pg.  Just someone whose stomach likes to empty itself at random times and places.  Ah, well, it keeps things interesting I guess.

Lost

{ February 8, 2008 @ 4:19 am } · { tv }
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Indeed I am. 

I love that show, but I cannot figure it out for the life of me.  Every episode just leaves me more confused.

I’m not her

{ February 7, 2008 @ 6:43 pm } · { dating, neuroses, random thoughts, relationships, size, unattractive, worries }
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I’ve been having a hard time coming up with material to write about lately.   I guess that is probably obvious to those of you who read my blog.  I don’t know if it is the result of the the winter blahs or just a boring life, but I apologize to those of you who are looking for interesting stuff to read. 

Lent snuck up on me this year like it always does.  Now, I am Catholic, but I’m not exactly devout.  Not even close, really, but for some reason I always observe Lent.  This year I am giving up swearing.  I have done this in the past, but for whatever reason, it never sticks very well long-term.  I have the face of a 13 year old girl, but the mouth of a sailor.  It is not very ladylike.  I blame it on my job.  This is the only place I’ve ever worked where it was appropriate (and probably even necessary) to swear.  When I first started working here, my boss came to me after about two weeks and told me that he and the others had been talking, and they thought it was odd that I never swore.  I told him that I do swear, but I’ve never worked in a place where it was acceptable.  Now, some six years later, I have a mouth that I probably shouldn’t kiss my grandmother with. 

But last night I was talking to B, and he said, instead of giving something up (he is Catholic too, and even less devout than I am, which is barely possible), maybe we should DO something affirmative instead.  Ok, I said, what do you have in mind?  He told me that he was thinking that we should commit to going to the gym at least four times a week (on our own, not together). 

Not a bad idea, right? 

Except he already goes to the gym nearly every day.  So mostly, he just wants ME to go to the gym.  He thinks I’m a fat pig (to paraphrase).  I don’t like that.  It hurt my feelings.  I know I need to get in shape and lose weight.  I’m not blind.   But I need to date someone who thinks I’m cute.   And I don’t think he does.  I can remember him telling me ONE time, in over a year that we’ve been dating, that I’m “pretty cute”.  Just the one time.    And that was roughly the third date (and thus he was trying to get lucky). 

I know this is shallow and superficial, and probably says something about how I am insecure and need someone to feed my ego, but I don’t care.  I don’t need endless gushing about how beautiful I am, but I need something.  I can’t get naked in front of someone who thinks I’m fat.   I know I need to go to the gym, I don’t need him to tell me that. 

And frankly?  Suggesting to me that I get my fat ass to the gym does not exactly inspire me to do so.  Quite the opposite, in fact.  My first inclination is to act like a 15 year old and rebel.  To say, screw you (see, I’m already doing better with the language thing), now I DEFINITELY am not going to the gym.  Ever.  And yes, I have been known to cut my nose off to spite my face. 

My friend Jaded told me that men are just like that.  They think that they are all entitled to date someone with the looks of a supermodel, regardless of what they look like themselves.  If that is the case, perhaps they should concentrate on trying to land such a woman, instead of trying to turn some average (but well-meaning) woman into a supermodel.  Jaded said that they know that can’t get those perfect-looking women so they have to go with plan B, which is apparently trying to make a girl like me look better.  And readers?  I already try to do the very best I can.  Every single day.  I try to dress nice, I’m well groomed, I always style my hair, wear make-up, wear heels.  I am bigger than I should be, yes, but I’m not schlumpy. 

*Sigh*  I’ve never thought of myself as a girl that a guy has to settle for.  Some begruding, this-is-the-best-I-can-do kind of girlfriend.  I don’t like that.  I won’t be some girl who is just good enough to make the cut, but nothing to write home about.  I’m not that girl.  I am not.   And if I have to, I’ll keep repeating that until both B and I believe it.   

          

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