Mood Swingy

So I stayed home from work yesterday, primarily because I didn't feel well, haven't felt well for quite some time, and yesterday was the first day I could freely miss without messing something up. As angry as I am today about work, it's a good thing I missed yesterday when all the shit hit the fan and my boss showed her crazy colors. I'm not going to go into details, but I will say this. It has been a long time since I have been this angry. Angry enough that talking about how angry I am makes me want to scream or cry or both. Let's just say that this has cemented my need to get the hell out of here. I don't need to put up with this shit. I just have to decide how to finance all of this.

Sadly, I didn't get to see Haley last night. Seriously, go buy her music. It's great. And I know her, which makes her even cooler. But yes. Her dad was playing down in Fredricksburg and I tried, I really did. But she would pick the one night we have a storm. I mean, it took me an hour to get from Del Ray to Old Town. There was no way I could have gotten to Fredricksburg before the concert was nearly over and then I'd just have to turn around and come back. I did get to chat with her on Wednesday, though, and that was nice. It's funny how different we are and that we're still friends. And we are very different. She did say that she wasn't surprised I was getting ready to go back to school, that she'd been thinking recently that it was time to go back for me. It was good to hear. And she and all her family are doing well, and that makes me happy.

Haley and I go back to 7th grade. We were always strange together. I mean, really strange. She and Julie and I were good friends in 7th grade; for my birthday that year, we had a sleep-over and did makeup which devolved down to smearing it all over and seeing who would look the funniest. We were in the talent show together. It was so unfair, though. She had her professional guitar-playing father accompany her; I had a tape. I still can't hear "When You Say Nothing at All" without thinking of her. In high school, we went to Disney World with the choir and made up our own dance. We then performed that for a group of our friends. They were not impressed. (It was very strange. We thought it was funny.) I would post a picture, but I only have one and it's not online. Haley is one of those rare people who accepts everyone as they are, and who is freely who she is without reservation. She looked like a hobo last time I saw her (her mom's words, not mine) and a random woman gave her money. And she talked about that as a sign of God on her website. I might be a little embarrassed about that. Not her. She thought it was funny/a miracle.

She's great and you should all go buy her cd. Seriously. Do it now... or else...

Tried and True

So for my job, I was forced to go onto the Republican National Committee's website. (And still couldn't find what I was looking for. What, are the Republicans anti-find buttons?) It was frightening, in the "Dear God, are people really that crazy about their party affiliation?" "Democrats will run us into the ground. Democrats hate babies. Democrats love terrorists."* On and on and on. Which reminded me of a quote in the Post today. Basically, the article was discussing the chances of Democrats winning a Republican seat in this one district in Ohio. People in Ohio are kind of mad right now at the ruling party. There have been several cases of corruption in office, mainly by Republicans. (I'm not saying Republicans in general are more corrupt. But they are the party currently in power in Ohio and they've been caught doing some nasty stuff.) So anyways, the Post went and interviewed the common folk to see what they thought of the upcoming midterms. Some people said they were still thinking about it, some people said that they were angry enough to vote Democrat, some people were just mad in general at politicians. All understandable. The quote that really struck me was from a couple (I feel like they are old, married, and white. I have no proof of that, though.) Their quote was basically "We will vote Republican no matter what happens." Now, that just strikes me as dumb. I hate this whole concept of "party loyalty." I vote for the person I agree with most, be they Republican or Democrat or Independent or whatever. If there is a Democrat up for election who disagrees with everything I believe the most strongly in? I'm not voting for him. I'll write myself in if I have to, sent a protest vote. And if a Republican I agree with runs, I may very well vote for him. Like I would consider voting for McCain, whose main obstacle to getting my vote is his base. Why would I blindly go along with a party, just because they're "my" party? Screw that. I swear, some of the people would vote Republican even if Jesus himself came down and told them that voting Republican led straight to hell. **

*Okay, those of you in the area may have seen these. But the political campaigns using puppies? Crack me up. The first is the guy himself saying, "they may make crazy claims, like I hate puppies. Well I love puppies." The new one from his opponent is now "He may love puppies, but what do puppies have to do with government?" It's just all so random.
**Apparently Orbitz has a disclaimer on their ad with Snoop saying that chewing Orbitz does not get you into heaven.

Am I Funny to You? Am I a Clown, Here for Your Amusement?

I put this picture up in honor of Cassie having it taken away. That's right, I took away her bed. Why did I do this? Because she apparently decided that it was more fun to poop in her bed than in the litter box. And I am not letting that get to be a habit. So I put her bed in the closet she's not allowed in, and this morning she used the litter box. I was much relieved. It was kind of funny yesterday, because I put my foot in my shoe and thought, "Oh, no" when I felt something, but it was just her little play mouse. Which she oh so sweetly brought me last night and put on my back. (I was lying on my stomach.)

So SB leaves for far-off lands tonight. I know I said he was leaving last week, but part of his trip was cancelled. Now he's gone for two weeks and I am sad. And more broke, as he pays for a good portion of my food. I know he'll have fun, though.

I was reading an article in Slate today about why we need to be funny. Apparently, even IBM staff is trying to make humorous clips about need-to-know issues. It made me think. Because it seems like everyone wants to date someone "who can make them laugh," everyone wants to be friends with the funny guy or girl. I've even seen job postings that require a sense of humor. When did being funny get so important? Not that I don't like to laugh. Because who doesn't? But I also like to think and have intelligent discussions. I don't want to be around someone who tries to make everything funny. Let's face it. Some things aren't funny. And people trying to be funny when they aren't is also not funny. But since our culture seems to have made humor the crucial part to having friends, more people seem to feel the need to be funny. Just look at the blogging world. Or at least the comments. The favorite blogs are the ones that are funny, and the comments are always, "OMG, that was so funny! I just died. You are teh funniest EVAH." Not to denegrate these blogs or those commenters. (Though I feel those comments don't always add to the conversation. Except for the one I read this morning about someone snorting out coffee at a staff meeting while reading a blog. That one gave me an amusing mental picture.) Is it that we, as a culture, as a generation, whatever, are so inundated with depressing things, we don't want to think? We need to laugh to keep from crying? Or are we trying to escape from reality? I'm all for using humor as a coping mechanism. I loved White Noise, which is a book all about the humor in horrible situations. But I feel that all this emphasis on humor and being funny and able to laugh at everything might be blinding us as a society to other qualities that are important, as well as creating pressure on those who aren't funny to be something they are not. So relax, non-funny people. Feel no obligation to make me laugh, or entertain me! Instead, why don't we have a deep discussion? Or we can just sit in silence doing Sudoku and crossword puzzles. Whatever you would like.

Murkiness

I miss my bloggers. So many quit (okay, like two and I swear I'll change the sidebar sometime to reflect those and the ones I've added. Then again, my new big project is to practice HTML by reworking the whole layout... It'd be great! But we'll see) and now, every morning, I have so few I want to read. I know I've found more that I liked, but then I forget which ones and they vanish into the murky recesses of my mind.

Speaking of murky recesses, I have been having the most BIZARRE dreams lately. And, now that I think about it, snakes have featured fairly prominently in at least two. And in both, the snakes were trying to bite me (one dream, they were venomous, the other they weren't). The venomous snakes were in a strange dream about a video game/amusement park/pirate skelatons. The good guy was a pirate and had a certain number of lives, but we weren't sure how many and so the snakes were very perilous. I should go see an analyst who can interpret how everything in the dream represents an aspect of myself or sex (a la Freud). I also had one last night that featured the K family, best friends of my family while we were in the military and for a good few years after both families got out. Actually, my dad still sees Dr. K every once in a while and Dr and Mrs. K came to my brother's wedding. Anyways, they apparently (inside my mind) live in a giant house propped up on two sets of two slabs, one of which is angled on top of the other. Kind of like a bug, actually, with long legs. There was also something about Christmas and me being excited... And maybe some Halloween in there, too. It's all a bit fuzzy. At least, I didn't dream about weddings or my teeth. Those were both topics for a while.

Also, as MSN informs me, necrophilia is currently not a crime in Wisconsin. They found this out when tryign to charge 3 men with digging up a five-day-old corpse and trying to have sex with it. Which brings one word to mind... EWWWW... That and that boys are strange. As CW and I discussed, if one were that desperate for sex, why wouldn't you get a prostitute? Or a blow-up doll? CW thought the blow-up doll would be the most appropriate, since it would even seem lifeless. No matter what, though, it's gross. I mean, I was into Spike on Buffy, mainly because he was British, brooding, and HOT, but he at least was of the undead. The actually dead? [shudders] What can be the appeal? Honestly. The whole thing is beyond my comprehension. How many of these people are out there? Doesn't it all smell? I thought about googling it to see if I could find some numbers and if they wear jewelry like pedophils do, but I don't want that in my google search record.

My head hurts. I'm going home. And by going home, I mean run home to eat quickly before going to choir.

Not as bad as expected

So the dreaded day was not nearly so dreaded as imagined. Why was today dreaded? WEll, mainly because the boss came back today from vacation. Now you might say, "Oh, she's just come back from vacation, she'll be all nice and relaxed." Which might have been true if she had gone on vacation during a normal time. But she decided to go on vacation when we have massive goings on, when 18 things are being completed and sent out, and when we're in the middle of hiring. So she comes back to 37 things that should have been done yesterday, but couldn't because she wasn't here and she must approve everything. Luckily, she's been pretty busy on calls and such and therefore has not been such a terror. And I think she's a little afraid of hurting my feelings (I think she thinks I'm young and fragile... HA!) so she's relatively nice to me even when she's upset. I thank the blushing. Because everytime she's tried to be mean or upset with me, I started blushing and we all know that the blushing is adorable. It may become my secret weapon. "I screwed up? I'll take full blame. [blushing begins] Ha! Now you can't be really mad at me!!!" Plus if she went crazy on me today, I may have snapped. I'm tired and cranky and beware. Because, again, if it's my fault, I'll take the blame. It's being blamed for things that I have no control over that drives me mad.

I also figured today wouldn't be great because of all the mishaps. Yesterday, for example, my doorknob broke. Meaning I got home from work and couldn't get in. Poor Cassie heard my keys and started crying. It was heart-wrenching. The building maintenance guy had to cut off my doorknob. This is the second time. I was not amused. So Cassie had to be locked in my closet/bathroom/changing area today so she wouldn't escape out the door while they put in a new doorknob. So I leave work this morning, feeling all guilty for locking her in a small room, and catch the bus and get to the metro. Where the metro card I had stolen from SB (he had left over cards from when his family was here) chose not to work. To get it replaced, I have to go somewhere "to the right and upstairs" at the Pentagon. I don't really know where the guy was talking about. Oh well. So I missed my train because I had to go and ask the manager and then walk back to the machines and put money on my smartrip. Then my muffin did not have the sugar on top that I enjoy so much. It was still a good muffin, and reduced fat, but I really like the sugar. It makes it so nice and crispy... But the day is almost over and then I can go home and let my poor kitten out. And I finally dealt with some insurance thing that I've been meaning to deal with forever. Mmm... and I have cold watermelon at home. I might have to go home and ball me some melon... :-D

Like Disneyland, only weirder

So this weekend. This weekend was SB family time. And I like his family. I do. They're a bit rural, but nice enough. I actually really like bits and pieces. Like his dad's sister. Really like her. And one of his cousins. And his grandparents on one side. But yes. But the family visiting consisted of: SB mom, SB dad, SB grandparents on his dad's side, and SB aunt on dad's side. Now his grandparents decided that everyone should drive out there. So rather than a quick 2-hour flight, they had a 12-hour drive. This created some under the hidden resentment on the part of aunt and mom, as they then lost several hours of tourist/shopping time. Plus the grandparents weren't planning on going in the first place and aren't incredibly mobile, so what they can do is somewhat limited. Then the grandparents decided they wanted to see their friends up in Baltimore. SB suggested that we meet them in Annapolis, because Annapolis is cute and that way, people not caring so much about the friends could still enjoy the day. This was overriden by the grandfather. Not that he really cared THAT much, as long as he got to see his friends. But I don't think he likes planning and he can't hear very well, so I think the cell phone is hard on him. And since no one complained, we all went up to Baltimore. Lovely, lovely Baltimore which is not lovely. Not lovely at all.

But before the joyous Baltimore trip was the trip to the Masonic temple in Alexandria. Now those of you in the area will recognize it. For those of you not in the area, the beginning of Old Town is this ginormous building that is a combination of a lighthouse (in size and shape) and a cathedral. It's all imposing and remeniscent of the Washington Monument (I say that because my brother once thought it was...). I am not a Mason. I am not particularly fond of the Masons. I think it is a strange, strange group and I'm not a big fan of a group that claims to be powerful, is full of "alternate" history theories, and does not allow women. So I wasn't in a respectful mood anyways. SB's family, however, does have Masons, including SB, SB's dad, and SB's grandfather. So snarkiness had to be ruled in. The first thing that struck me was the strangeness of having stained glass of the Founders. They even had little small stained glass around the edges that showed specific events. My favorite was the small one showing John Adams being inoculated. Because when I think stained glass, I think protection from disease. Also, there is a giant, frightening statue of Washington wearing Masonic garb.

Then we moved on to the tour. The tour covers the tower portion of the temple. And the tower tries to steal several different histories, most notably those of hte Jews, the Egyptians, and all Christians. The tour itself consists of the guide pressing the button, the lights going down with spotlights on the area currently being discussed, and the booming voice telling us that the menorah is an important symbol to the Masons. They even have a replica of the Ark of the Covenant, but you are only allowed to see it for the 15 seconds that the curtains open. They also have icons showing the Masons putting Masonic symbols into the Ark of the Covenant. Impressive, since no one really knows where it is and no one could touch it without dying. They have a temple for the Knights Templar (not the real ones, whihc the Masons probably have no real connection to), a replica of King Solomon's throne room, and many pictures in the Egyptian style showing Jewish stories. Our guide claimed you only had to believe in a higher deity to be a Mason, but I have a REALLY hard time imagining anyone of any religion besides Christianity being comfortable there. I don't know. I walked out of there feeling annoyed with the whole group. I know that now it is mainly an organization where older men get together and hang out. But they were trying to claim parts of history that they have no right to. I was expecting them to start claiming that the builders of every wonder of the world were big M Masons. (Obviously they were actually little m masons, as they were stoneworkers.) But I wasn't allowed to complain or make comments because SB's grandfather is very proud that he has been a Mason for 62 years. I think I deserve a lollipop. Or something.

I don't have time for a real entry, but stay tuned for tomorrow's. There shall be much snarkiness about many topics, including the Masons. (Apologies to any Masons out there.)

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.

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.

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!!!

Perspective

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.

Warm-up Pants!!!!

Note the crazy eyes in this picture. This is what I wake up to every morning.

Today has been a day of ups and downs. First of all, we must say farewell to Belligerent Intellectual of the Daily Dump who left us so abruptly and with only juicy tidbits of an explanation. He is the only blog I've ever read that has groupies. I mean, seriously. Women offering themselves up to him. Of course, it's all online so one can be racier than usual. But still. I won't say that I'll work more with him gone (because, really. Let's face it. I'll do as much work as I want to do or have to do, but no more, and I can really find other distractions if I need to). But it does make me sad. So Dan, if I weren't lazy, I would offer up a montage of your funnier stories. Too bad that I am and therefore will not. Instead, I will pass out in a drunken stupor tonight in honor of you. (Not really. I do have work tomorrow and have never passed out and really, I'm not sure a blog passing is a good reason to start. Or deal with a hangover.)

In good news, I heard back from a professor of whom I asked grad school advice and a recommendation. After the whole Oxford tutor thing, I was feeling a bit panicked. Because if my tutor in Oxford tried to claim that he didn't know my work well enough, anyone could. But this professor remembered me (another worry), a presentation I did for his class, gave me advice, AND said he'd write me a recommendation. So I can breathe a sigh of relief. There was a reason he was my favorite prof. (That and he was totally cute in a nerdy way and I had a crush on him and was kind of tempted to stalk him by taking like 4 classes with him...)

Speaking of college crushes, someone got here by googling Tom Coverdale. Which got them into my archives, because Tom was FOREVER ago, but it made me laugh. And wonder how many pages they had to go through. Sigh. That was such a golden spring for me. Crushes galore, a flirtation, a championship run and rioting... And the wonderful WARM-UP PANTS (I totally yelled that randomly in college). I would totally get SB a pair of those if they weren't like $125. Because something about them is hot. Those of you who don't agree? Well, I just don't care.

Meanderings

My friend just sent out pictures of her and her husband and their new house. I may hate her. Or be horribly jealous. Probably more of the second. Although her husband is going to be gone 6 months of the year (he's in the military), so maybe it's okay that they can buy a house in Washington...

Spyboy and I came so close to making this a holiday weekend without a fight. We've had a bad track record over the past six months. So basically on Memorial Day and on the Fourth. Last night was minor compared to those, but still. Not fun. It's all hashing out communication issues. Mainly he does not communicate well. Or at all sometimes. Why do guys always claim the excuse, "I didn't know what to say?" Because, really. That can only work so many times before the girl gets fed up with it. Not knowing what to say is no excuse for not saying anything. Poor Cassie. She shouldn't have to see such fights.

I have to say, Steve Irwin's death bothers me much more than I would have thought. I mean, I never really cared much about the guy. I kind of respected him for defying death so often. I thought he was entertaining in a "why the hell would you do that" type way. I watched his show a grand total of once. But I think the thing that really bothers me is that he died not stung by a poisonous snake or because his head got bitten off by a crocodile (though he actually was pretty careful with those). No. He died doing something tourists do. His cameraman claims Steve never saw the stingray before it stung him. And even then, stingrays are rarely fatal. But it hit him right in the heart. It's just bizarre. And now there is no crazy Australian animal lover who jumps on crocodiles on tv for our entertainment and to encourage us to love wildlife. It makes me sad.

On a completely different topic... what does dreaming about weddings mean? Because I keep dreaming about them and teeth and it's starting to bother me. Last night also included a fabulous dream about french and not being that good at it. Oh well. At least my dreams are true to life... Wait. Then what does that mean about the weddings? Because that's not happening. Nope. Not for a while, anyways. Crap...

What's in a blog?

You know what I would like? I would like for once at work to be able to ask someone exactly what they wanted, in what format they wanted it, what the purpose of it was, and when they wanted it by and to have all of those questions answered. Instead, we have our current haphazardness, where the procedure seems to be giving vague directions (from multiple people, of course), no real timelines (they are currently either "we needed it yesterday" or "whenever you get around to it"), and then expecting exactly what the boss was thinking of but never told you that that was what they wanted. Frustrating, huh?

Anyways, to ignore that frustration and move onto something else that has been bothering me. Recently several bloggers have been talking about the role of blogs. Which is an interesting topic. Blogging can and will change the world and the way we communicate. Look at the role of blogging and online communities in politics and in business. If a politician or business gets on the bad side of the wrong blogger, they can damage their career or business. On the other side, Howard Dean rose to prominence primarily because of his success in raising awareness through the internet.

I think all of that is fascinating. Honestly. I'd totally take a class or do a study on it. More bloggers, however, seem mostly interested in why people blog. Which you might think a blogger would know; afterall, who can understand a blogger better than a fellow blogger? Why do we write these things? Is it because we want an audience? I think that has to be true for most bloggers. Why else write something to put online? People say it's a good way to stay up with friends, and that's certainly true, but if that's your sole mission, then why not just send group update emails? I remember reading once that most people who write in diaries have an imagined audience. That is something I completely understand. When I write in my diary, I picture someone, somewhere, at some time finding it and reading it. In a blog, the audience becomes immediate. For some bloggers, it seems to be a popularity contest. How many readers and hits can you get? How many people will write in comments telling you how great and funny or entertaining or intelligent you are? For some, it's perhaps cathartic. It's a way to get something outside of your head, to express your feelings and think that perhaps someone is reading and understanding what you are saying. I know I've been comforted by things I've read in other people's blogs. They feel things that I've felt, say things that I've been too afraid to say, experienced things that are similar to what I've gone through. Some people maybe want a connection. So many bloggers are in big cities, where you pass by hundreds of people everyday, but can count how many really know you on one hand, two or three if you are lucky.

There are many more reasons people blog and they're all legitimate. And here is what bothers me. It seems like so many bloggers trying to figure out why people blog tend to judge or pidgeonhole people. The reasons I blog are probably more complex than I realize. But I do it because I want to. I can see myself in many of the blogs I read. I see real people behind them. I don't care why they blog. I don't care how many people read their blog. If I don't like the blog, I don't go back. It doesn't mean that my blog or a more popular blog (not that that's hard at this point) is any better or any worse than that blog. It just means the topic might not interest me. Because, let's face it. No matter what topic you write about, you're only writing about yourself. There are some blogs out there with a specific topic area and specific readership. But for the most part, it's just people talking about whatever they want to. With as much information is out there, the only novel thing a blogger can bring to teh internet is their own perspective, their own experiences, and their own voice. And no one should judge that.

Lonely little shoe

Today I saw a shoe. This might not seem strange in and off itself. But this shoe was missing a foot, an owner, a mate. It was sitting all by itself on the curb. This made me wonder. How do you lose a shoe like that? If it were right outside a hotel or apartment building or dorm, I might be able to understand that. After all, someone might be moving stuff in or out of a room and just have had a shoe fall out. But this one wasn't. It was all alone, lost. And I couldn't help but want to know its story.

Whatever, Wilson

This woke me up last night. Not that I wasn't prepared for it, thanks to article. Well, that one and the 180000000 others written about that stupid bridge. Really. They blow up one bridge and it becomes this huge mass production. Yes, I know that they have been working on it forever. I know like a zillion people cross it every day in their commute from hell. The reason it matters to me though? A. it woke me up. I don't like that. Even if I'm prepared. And there is no way that that was "as loud as a thunderclap." I slept through an earthquake once but this woke me up. (True story, too. My friend woke up, saw everything shaking, saw me sleeping and thought it was a dream. The next morning, everyone was talking about it. I didn't even roll over. No recollection of the shaking at all.) And B. I didn't get a free carwash. I realize most of you aren't going to read those articles (really, they aren't that interesting), so let me explain. The Wilson Bridge is a pain in the neck for all involved. The commuters hate it. The neighborhood around it hates it. The construction project, only half-way done btw, has been going on for years. And the construction teams have constantly put the convienence of the drivers above that of the local people. Not without reason. After all, if they blew something up or shut anything down vaguely close to rush-hour, the entire city would implode. Or at least a lot of people would be very late and very pissed. So the loud construction has been done at night. Such as loud explosions that really aren't that exciting. ANYWAYS. All this construction has also made a lot of dust, dust which gets on everyone's car. (It also has rattled a lot of snakes. Can you imagine waking up with a snake around your arm? Oh, it happened. Not to me. But it happened.) In order to make up at least for the dust, since they can't do anything about the lost sleep, they handed out free carwash coupons. I live relatively close to this area. My car indubitably has become more dusty thanks to the construction. But did I get a coupon? No! I had to pay for my carwash, which wasn't all that thorough, thank you very much. I feel they owe me.

Foodgasms

Sorry no post or picture on Friday. Blogger was being a pain and I had work to do, so... Also, I promise that I'll get more recent pictures of Cassie to put up soon. These are all from two batches, both of which were taken at least two weeks ago. And two weeks is a big deal in the life of a kitten. For example, since the last one of these pictures was taken, Cassie discovered tv. She also has developed that awkward legginess of a teen, has taken to attacking my legs while I'm walking, and now has a tiny little belly. Since I just know all my readers want to be a part of that... Though, if you really cared, you'd either send me money to pay for an internet connection at home or start campaigning my boss to give me a raise.

So, date weekend was fun. The Carlyle was amazing. I had the best steak (probably not as good as Little Zagrebs, but up there, and definitely better atmosphere). They even butterflied it so it would be cooked the way I liked it. And I didn't even ask. And the bread pudding? OMG, SO GOOD. It was a complete food-gasm. White chocolate, with melted caramel in the middle and topped with ice cream. I thought my stomach was goign to explode, but it was worth it. The atmosphere, though, was a little strange. I don't know why the Carlyle has trance music in the downstairs area, but they really need to quit it. It's just annoying. Luckily they turned it down before too long into dinner, but still.

Apparently everything we decided to do on Saturday was somethign the retirement community wanted to do. We got to Shirlington and the line at the movie theater was almost to the parking lot. Most of the older people in line with us wound up at another movie (something about a beach?), but once our theater filled in, it was primarily full of older people as well. And they all clustered around us. Spyboy said he was getting a little claustrophobic. There were very few buffer seats. It was strange. Then at the restaurant, it was all older people or families. I mean, I know we aren't hip, but are we really on the same level as retired people and families? It was like 7:30, totally a decent eating time. Though I was glad we were there, because we wound up chating with this woman who had been abandoned by her family. Seriously, they came and sat and then all four of them (son, daughter-in-law, two grandkids) left for 20 minutes at least. It was the daughter-in-law's birthday and the woman was from near Annapolis and REALLY didn't want to drive all the way to Arlington, but did anyways. And then they just leave her? What could have needed to be done in Shirlington at 7:30 when you're waiting for a table that took all 4 of them? And then, when they were there, they just ignored her. Their baby though? So freaking cute.

Also, I've started getting google hits. Whee!! They're a little strange, but highly entertaining...

Cyberstalking

So the tail sticking out of the bag is Cassie, the bag itself is my gym bag (ie full of slightly smelly clothes), and no, I did not put her in there. She dove in all on her own. Though I am growing more tempted to throw her in there. She really has got to stop this getting up at 6:30 and running on me thing. This morning? She was purring while attacking me. It was a little disturbing.

CW is starting a cyber-stalking plan. Completely legit, I promise. Her boyfriend gets a call from a girl and hurries to get it and then reminds CW that she has in fact heard of said girl, because he has listed her on this stupid crush thing. Which really. I mean, this boy has got to be smart, but are you kidding me? He really should know better. So CW is hunting her down just to see what she's like. Which all reminds me of The Little Black Book, a movie I never saw mainly because I thought it'd give me ideas. As some of you might know, I wanted to stalk SB's exes, but restrained myself. Mainly because I don't know any of their last names and can hardly remember their first. Though one of them apparently has gotten married and had a child. I remembered her last name because it was the same as SB's. I made fun of him a lot for that. The sad thing is that I still would cyberstalk these girls if I could. And I'd update him and make him feel guilty and role his eyes at me. It'd be great. I also cyberstalk former friends. Like my former best friend's older brother? Did some of the graphic work on the second Zorro movie. It was cool.

And yet another reason to be proud of SB. He planned a date for this weekend. I'm so excited. We're going out to eat at a very good restaurant, courtesy of his place of employment, and then we're going to see Little Miss Sunshine. Which is sweet because I know he really wants to see Talladega Nights. My last getting upset may actually have made a difference for once. It only took four years...