Thursday, September 14, 2006

More than Missionary

Why has Cassie shoved her head inside a box? I don't know. There was a plastic bag in there and she does love her some plastic bags. Plastic bags and paper are like the two things that make her happiest. Though her new happy thing is to jump on things that make loud noises. Like a box or a paper bag. Which she decided to do at 6:00 this morning, making me not very happy. It didn't help that SB decided he wanted to chat last night after he left his family and thus kept me up until entirely too late. Which I later spazzed out on him for, since I wasn't feeling great and CW is horribly ill and I don't want to get whatever she has and thus I wanted to sleep a lot. And while it's very sweet that he wants to cuddle/be with me and talk, I'd rather he paid attention to the time and the fact that, while he is off today, I am not and need to get stuff done. Between the two of them, I think I got maybe 6 hours of sleep last night which is totally not enough for me.

It looks like I have to say farewell to another blog I read. Liberal Banana apparently is jumping ship, too. I would start to think it had something to do with me ("Man, I love blogging, but Rebecca's comments... They just drive me nuts!"), but I think it's blogosphere-wide and several people I don't read have quit as well. Even bloggers who haven't quit have cut back and seem to be suffering writer's block. I know that I am... Even coming up with comments on posts that I like has been difficult. I go, I pull up the screen, I start to write something. And then I close out the page.

Though MSN tends to save me, having funny articles that make me want to post. Like...this. This article is about a preacher who is trying to encourage Christians to be more experimental with their sex lives. And I mean, he is REALLY detailed in some of it. For example. He gives tips to guys on how to make their cum taste better. He thinks anal is fine, as long as there is no physical damage. A position in the Kama Sutra intrigue you? Go for it. Now, all these things are supposed to take in a married relationship, you aren't supposed to lust after others besides your spouse (thus, no porn), and no outsiders should be involved (no threesomes). So there are limits. But the limits kind of make sense. Loving, committed relationships are crucial to opening up to someone else, and I've heard that threesomes rarely work out well for the couple, even if both partners were all about it. The fact that he is encouraging the Christian community to talk about sexuality is great. Christians can be so repressed and are taught so frequently to think that sex is evil and a sin. Hello? God wouldn't have made it feel so good if He/She didn't want us to do it. I mean, procreation is important and all, but only like three species have sex for fun (us, dolphins, and I believe monkeys). Why shouldn't we revel in that? Enjoy sex for its creation of closeness? Be comfortable in our own skins? Have fun getting to know ourselves and someone we love?

I also enjoyed that article because it reminds me of my small group in college. Emily's parents had sent her a taped sermon on the same topic, focusing on "Song of Solomon." In the Song of Solomon, the male compares his love's breasts to fawns. Which led to "fawns are fun. They're bouncy." Seriously, there are some strange similes in that book. Sigh. The number of sex-related conversations I remember with that group is a bit ridiculous. It was a fun group, though...

Rainy Day Blues

I'm feeling a bit melancholy today. I blame the weather. And something in the air. And the fact that SB is going away for 3 weeks next week and I'm trying not to be horribly jealous of him (I love traveling... especially abroad. It's not fair.) or mean to him because he's leaving me. I know he's not really leaving me and it's his work and he has to go. But he's excited about it and I want him to be excited about it. But it's going to be sad not having him here.

And then KassyK wrote an entry about people dying young. Which made me think of Bethany. Those of you who don't know, Bethany was the little sister of Emily, one of my high school friends. I remember watching Bethany grow up a bit. Not that I knew her that well, but she went on a couple of trips with the French classes and choir. She was just a funny kid, quirky and individualistic and not caring what anybody thought of her. I hadn't seen either Emily or Bethany in a few years (basically since I graduated high school) when Bethany died. She went for a hike with her friends at a camp she was working at. It was a few days before the camp ended. And she tripped and fell over a cliff. My friends and I went to the viewing to support Emily. It was sad that that was what finally brought us all together again.

Then I read that Ann Richards died. Now, Ann Richards has not had much of an impact on my life. Except for her famous quote, "Ginger Rogers did everything that Fred Astaire did. She just did it backwards and in high heels," which makes me think of the Rent song, "The Tango Maureen." But I was reading the article and it mentioned that she had a drinking problem, caused mainly because she had such high expectations of herself, that she could never live up to them. SB has always said that I am too hard on myself and expect too much. I've always replied that that is because I know what I am capable of, I know what I should be able to do. Maybe I'm falling into the same trap she did. But then it raises the question of whether or not that's a bad thing. Because I feel like I do know what I am capable of and it's not that I expect myself to be perfect. It's that I know that I need to be pushed and I know that very few things have ever REALLY challenged me. That's not to say that things haven't been hard or I've done well on everything I've tried. But I know when things are my fault and I know when they aren't. I can accept that there are some things I'm just not good at (ultimate comes to mind, although I probably could be decent at that if I tried and were willing to look stupid in front of many people). And I'm learning that the more I'm challenged, the better work I do. Which is something I feel I've known inherently for a while. (Hence the need to do a semester abroad or go to college where I don't know anyone, even though I desperately hate change.) So where is the line? When does it go from challenging myself to punishing myself? Do I cross that line more than I think I do? And should I even be constantly pushing myself to do better, be better?

I have to say, though, if it is unhealthy to push myself so much, these past two jobs have really sucked that will out of me. To a point, anyways. But not being able to challenge myself bothers me as well. I don't know. It's all a big mush.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

Not quite a parfait, but not bad

Oi. I am SO tired. Cassie has recently decided that RUNNING AS FAST AS YOU CAN is very entertaining. Last night she decided to do this back and forth across my bed, pausing only to attack my feet, my legs, my hip, trying to attack my back, but sliding off, and then dashing off. Cute? Maybe. Less so at 3 in the morning...

So this weekend SB's parents come to visit. Actually, it's his parents and aunt and grandparents. I'm not so much looking forward to this visit. It's not that I don't like them. I do. Though his grandparents are a bit intimidating. It's just that I'm tired and getting over something and my stomach hurts and SB goes out of town for like 3 weeks next week and I really just wish it was another weekend. And Cassie will be alone a lot this weekend and she doesn't like that. Oh well. At least it's getting to be fall. Even if I can't open my windows because the screens are full of holes. Yes, I'm getting new ones in that they are replacing all the screens and windows in the building. I do, however, have to wait until they get to me. And it's taking forever.

My building amuses me. Not my apartment building (they annoy me because they take so much of my salary in rent every month), but my office building. There are so many great people-watching moments here. Like today, for instance. Today, the building had free ice cream, coffee, and pastries as a kind of "get to know the new manager" type thing. Of course CW and I partook. I mean, it's free, it's sweets... what more could you want? Well, yes, they could have been served on silver platters by hot young men who also handed you flowers and nice wine, but let's be realistic. We go downstairs and there are several people waiting in line for the ice cream. We stand in line and this old woman, she must have been seventy, eighty at least, tries to cut. She "didn't have to wait in any line for her ice cream." This other older woman (probably in her 70's) actually confronts her and won't let her cut. They get into a bit of a spat with the cutter trying to cut, wandering away, then wandering back and cutting some other people. The confronter told her that she was no more important than anyone else waiting in line and she should have to wait. The cutter cut anyways, and the confronter walked off muttering, "just who does she think she is." You might be wondering why we have such elderly people in our building. Our building is connected to some rather expensive apartments. So many of the people who live there feel rather entitled. It was nice to see one of htem standing up for us.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Hurts So Good

There comes a point in any job with a not-so-great boss where things go from being frustrating and stressful to being funny. I just reached that point. I had really started to let her get to me, wear me down, and make me feel bad about myself. And then she goes and does something that reminds me of who I am dealing with. And it just helps to remind me that it's really not me. It makes me excited for my "let's bitch about everything" lunch that should be happening next week with my friend from church.

So this season on Ellen the main focus is going to be life lists. She totally stole this from me. Who has had a life list for YEARS? Oh, that would be me. I think she should make it up to me by helping me cross a few small things off that list. I've done a few by now (kissed a boy, moved to a big city), but there are things left to be crossed off. And she could facilitate. Like the whole riding in a one-horse open sleigh thing. Who doesn't want to do that?! And I just googled a bunch and found some. SB, GET PLANNING!!!

Monday, September 11, 2006


Well, I know it has been a sad, lonely time without my daily posts. Okay, so I only skipped two. And work was busy/hellish and I may begin pulling out my hair in frustration, but that is okay.

I did kind of go off on a girl yesterday after lunch about liking your job. She is dating a guy who only works because he likes it. His family is independently wealthy. I declared that I needed to talk to my parents about that. (Not that I would really let them support me entirely. I'd feel to guilty. But I could guiltlessly live off of a trust-fund...) This girl thought that having to work for money helped people find what they were good at and thus their passion. I don't really agree. I mean, I don't think sitting around doing nothing because you have all the money you need is healthy. But if I didn't HAVE to work, I would spend my time trying to find the things that I really loved doing. Things that excited me. I'm not saying there wouldn't be some lazy lying around for a few weeks or months. And I'd totally travel for a while. But right now, I can't just hop from job to job. I can't afford it. I have to make strategic moves to better employment. But I don't really know what would be better employment, so where am I supposed to go? Thus hatched the grad school plan. Another girl yesterday (after my tirade) asked what I wanted to do after that. I said that was what the two years were for. :-)

As other bloggers today have said, I could do a perspective on the past five years or what September 11 means to me. But what is there left to say? It was tragic, life-changing even, changed the course of this country and thus the world. But saying it was tragic isn't going to help those who have lost someone. It doesn't change anything.