February 28, 2005

The Drywall Man Cometh.

The drywall man is at my house right now. He came over Saturday to give the hole in my wall a look-see and basically told me that American Home Shield company, like all the other insurance companies, don't give a hoot about doing anything the right way. So for him to present an estimate that they would accept, I basically had to remove my toilet tank and prime the wall for him because American Home Shield won't cover that sort of labor because that is labor above and beyond getting my wall back to roughed-finish state. The fact that drywall man couldn't properly fix the wall without adequate access to my wall and without it being properly primed just doesn't mean a hill of beans to American Home Shield compay. They just want him to slap a piece of sheetrock in there and kind of keep it in place with bubble gum or something. And actually, they prefer if he uses Double Bubble rather than Hubba Bubba Bubble Gum because it's cheaper, you know. Drywall man is a very nice man and it turns out his kids went to the same school as my daughter. I can tell it bugs him that the insurance companies aren't interested in paying for a properly done job. He obviously takes pride in his work, as he should. In general, I hate insurance companies--all insurance companies. I hate their commercials where they try to portray themselves as a "caring" company that's interested in your welfare. Bull honkey! They just want my money. I know they just want my money. I know they are investing the money I give them to make more money for themselves so they can then train their employees in state-of-the-art denial techniques. "Sorry, ma'am, but you see, your contract states that only the rubber washer is covered. The fact that we have to take off the faucet handle and everything to get to the washer is not part of the contract. It's all there, really."

My defense is to speak in more convoluted language so that I confuse them into agreeing to something they don't understand. "I understand that that is stated in the contract, but don't you know that on odd days of the month, the gravitational pull of the moon actually transforms anything touching rubber into said rubber object itself, so really, if you come out on the 15th--which is the only day of the month I am available--you will only be replacing the rubber washer."

"Uh, yeah, I see. OK, see you on the 15th."

February 25, 2005

Bad dream

I think I had the worst dream of my life last night: I dreamt that my daughter was hit by a car in a parking lot. I believe I actually woke up screaming. It was the worst feeling I have ever experienced in my life. Man, if that's how bad it feels in a dream, I DO NOT want to experience the real thing. But it's morning and it's all over. Here's the plumber update. American Home Shield did not call me back like they said they would, so I had to call again yesterday. I spoke to Joanie and told her that Amy said she would be getting back in touch and all the information that I was now giving her was already given to Amy two days before. Anyway, Joanie said she'd have a drywall guy call me, which did happen. The drywall guy called me last night and will be coming over 7:30 Saturday morning to look at the hole. Now, I've got to work on making sure they cover the cost of installing my sink once I get a new one.

I am having people over tonight. It's the annual pizza party for the editorial assistants. It's basically the only payment they get for doing the work they do. I told people they better be prepared to sing karaoke or they won't get anything to eat. I'm anxious to see the looks of fear when I pull out the old karaoke mike. It should be good for a couple of laughs. My husband wants to hang up this picture of George W. and Laura Bush that he just got from the RNC before all the grad students show up. He likes to antagonize the liberals in the same way that some people like to poke sticks in between the bars of the bear cage at the zoo. Tomorrow is "Thinking Day" for my daughter's brownie troop. I don't understand why they call it thinking day when what's really happening is all the troops are setting up tables with information on different countries. My daughter's troop had China, so they made a poster and stuff. It should be called "UN Day" or "World Day" or something more along those lines. My daughter said she was the only one who voted for Korea and she wants to know why the other girls didn't want to do Korea. What can I say? We live in the Midwest. The other girls have probably only heard of China. I shouldn't put down Midwesterners so badly, but I'm sure they deserve it.

February 23, 2005

The Plumbers.

K, I get home Monday after work and my husband tells me there's a leak in the basement. I go down and it appears that the leak is coming from one of the two bathrooms upstairs because the water is coming from directly beneath. I go up to check to see if there is any leaking from the bathrooms, but don't find anything. So, I call our home warranty company. We have a home warranty that we insisted the seller supply us when we bought the house, and we have subsequently renewed it every year to try and make sure we are always covered for whatever happens to our house. For the most part, between your home insurance and the home warranty, nearly every repair gets covered in some form. Anyway, I call the home warranty people to tell them that there's water leaking into the basement, but we can't determine the origin. Well, yesterday the plumber shows up and I show him where the water is leaking and he goes up to check the bathrooms. He runs the water in the sink in our half-bath, which is directly above the basement and we notice water starts leaking, so it's pinned down to that sink. He goes up and I notice water coming from under the vanity, but that there's still no water directly beneath the sink from the pipes. He decides it's time to tear up the wall because the leak must be coming from behind the wall. He pulls out the vanity, cuts open my wall but still can't find the leak. By this time his boss has shown up and they go check the other bathroom again, climb up into the attic, run water directly through the pipe in the half-bath, but can't make it leak in the basement again. So the boss asks me to tell him exactly what happened and I dutifully explain everything EXACTLY as it happened. I tell him the other plumber got leakage when he first ran the sink but before he ripped out the sink. The boss goes and looks at the basin, now sitting in my kitchen and notices that it's cracked at the drain. So that's why it leaked when the sink was still hooked up but didn't when the sink was taken off. Anyway, he calls the warranty company and they tell him the sink itself is not a covered item, which I knew. But I say what about the labor to replace the sink once I get a new one, and what about fixing the big hole in my wall? The plumber says the warranty company says that's not covered and if he comes out to reconnect the sink, that's its own independent visit. As far as the wall goes, I've got to call the company back and run it as a new service request. I said if you had come here and it was the faucet that had been leaking and you fixed it, that labor would have been covered. How is the labor involved (aka reattaching the sink) in fixing this leak any different? He says, "I understand, but you've got to talk to the warranty company." And then I said, "I've given you fifty dollars, you're not leaving my house until something is fixed." He said, "You got a lot of work for that fifty dollars." And then I said, "Yeah, which resulted in a hole in my wall." So I made them go up and fix the dripping faucets in my sink and tub upstairs. They were good sports about the whole thing, they weren't rude or anything, but you know how it goes.

After they leave, I call the warranty company again to ask who is going to fix my wall. As it turns out, surprisingly, they will cover the cost of fixing my wall and I won't have to pay another deductible. However, when I ask about them covering the labor to reinstall my sink, the girl starts to hem and haw. I point out that given the cause of the leak, they shouldn't have started pulling the vanity apart and busting out my wall in the first place. Obviously, the guy didn't check the sink enough before going to the power tools, which , hey, we all make mistakes, it doesn't mean he's a bad plumber, but I was taught when you make a mistake, you fix it. The warranty girl said they would talk to the plumber and encourage them to reattach the new sink without charge since it basically was their mistake for taking it out. I asked what happens if they don't do that? She responded, "Well, uh, then you'll have to have someone else come out and pay for it." I said, "That's not cool." Anyway, I'm still waiting to hear back from the warranty company to see how the whole deal is going to go down, but if I have to pay for anything other than the new sink, I am not going to be pleased. In fact, I'll be pretty angry. I will be very, very angry at the American Home Shield company for not being willing to take care of the mistakes made by their subcontractors, which translates into them not taking of their own mistakes. I'll keep you updated as the situation unfolds.

February 21, 2005

This writing life.

Over the weekend, I was reading my latest copy of Poets & Writers and all of a sudden I was completely disenchanted by it all. I feel like I am tired of the "academic" and "intellectual" writers. One of the reasons I pursued an MFA in writing is because John Gardner encourages "serious" writers to do so in his book The Art of Fiction : Notes on Craft for Young Writers. I liked this book a lot and still do. It makes a lot of sense and really helped me understand for myself what makes writing good and what makes it not so good. Plus, I generally appreciate his way of thinking about writing. But since I've been in the world of academia, I kind of don't love writing the way I used to. I'm tired of listening to people talk about their "projects" and I am tired of listening to people catergorize themselves and then patting themselves on the back for it. Patting themselves because their project is somehow more legitimate than the other guy's. The most important thing to me in writing has always been the story. I want to tell a story because that is what motivates me. I don't care if the reader comes away thinking I'm clever because I've managed to reference other writers or certain schools of thought, or if I've managed to trick the reader through my brilliant use of word play. I want to tell a story and I want the reader to feel connected to that story in some way. Apparently, that makes me simple. And that's fine by me. The thing is, I used to feel really encouraged when I did things like read Poets & Writers. I'd think, "Yeah, I'm fighting the good fight." But now, I feel like most writers are disingenuous. They talk about art from one side of their face and then pander to the system they decry from the other side. In the end, don't fool youself into thinking writers don't all want to see their name emblazoned across the shelves of Barnes & Noble.

February 18, 2005

Breaking News Flash.

After having bungled things in a major way but putting the covers on wrong, the printer has just delivered the properly wrapped new magazines to the office. I am now stuffing envelopes. It is really exciting. Can you tell how exciting it is from my tone of voice. It is very, very exciting. I like to stuff envelopes. I like to lick envelopes. The glue tastes good.


I just had a disturbing conversation with someone in the elevator. A woman who went through the MFA program the same time I did told me she was living in an apartment complex where this man kept threatening to come down to her apartment and rape her. She doesn't live there now, but I said that's definitely something that should be reported to the police. She said she did, but that they told her there's nothing they can do about it. To which I responded, "Until it's too late." And she said that was about it. Anyway, this makes me very angry because she was being threatened in a real way and I don't understand why the police can't work toward preventing a tragedy instead of just reacting to a tragedy. I mean, seriously, this guy should be locked up in jail. No one has the right to indiscriminately threaten people and then be allowed to walk the streets. Although, I can't say the police response surprises me too much. This society is still woefully unconcerned about sexual violence toward women. Well, I'm going to say sexual violence in general because male victims tend to have a harder time getting justice than women do.

When I was in college, I was genuinely shocked by how many male friends of mine thought that if they took a girl out for dinner or whatever that they were actually owed sex in return. Of course, if they thought this was their due for food, they certainly thought it was a sure thing if a girl went up to their room during a party. I have friends who have been raped and I was subjected to a sexual assault as a child. The aftermath is not cool. Trust me on this one. I think one of the primary problems is that we even connect these sorts of crimes to sexuality in anyway. There is nothing "sexual" about it other than the fact that it involves the sex organs. Violence is violence is violence. And sexual violence is motivated by the same desire to dominate that results in a criminal bludgeoning someone to death. But we try to downplay it by suggesting that crimes that involve certain parts of our anatomy somehow can really be explained by "things just getting out of control." I can honestly say that if I were the mother of a son who grew up to rape someone, I would feel like the biggest failure as a parent. I would feel like I had completely botched up the most important job of my life. What I don't get is why more men don't actively teach that there is never an excuse for rape. For as many men as I know who think a girl should put out, I know just as many who are disgusted by the thought of forcing sex. Why don't those men speak up when they hear friends joking in the locker room? It's not just a women's issue, you know.

February 17, 2005

Stupid Quiz Day.

Yup, that's right. Today will be dedicated to posting all these stupid personality quizzes that I love so much. Although, I have to say, I would have put my bitch level at, like, 75% at least.

I am 45% Asshole/Bitch.
Part Time Asshole/Bitch.
I may think I am an asshole or a bitch, but the truth is I am a good person at heart. Yeah sure, I can have a mean streak in me, but most of the people I meet like me.

Hmm, I've always wondered about my fondness for crawling into holes...

I scored 44 points.

Human Resource Department
This is a real test given by the human relations department at many of the major corporations today. 

It's only 10 simple questions, so... Grab a pencil and
paper, keeping track of your answers.

1. When do you feel your best?

a. in the morning
b. during the afternoon & early evening
c. late at night

2. You usually walk

a. fairly fast, with long steps
b. fairly fast, with short, quick steps
c. less fast head up, looking the world in the face
d. less fast, head down
e. very slowly

3. When talking to people you

a. stand with your arms folded
b. have your hands clasped
c. have one or both your hands on your hips
d. touch or push the person to whom you are talking
e. play with your ear, touch your chin, or smooth
your hair

4. When relaxing, you sit with

a. your knees bent with your legs neatly side by side
b. your legs crossed
c. your legs stretched out or straight
d. one leg curled under you

5. When something really amuses you, you react with

a. a big, appreciative laugh
b. a laugh, but not a loud one
c. a quiet chuckle
d. a sheepish smile

6. When you go to a party or social gathering you

a. make a loud entrance so everyone notices you
b. make a quiet entrance, looking around for someone you know
c. make the quietest entrance, trying to stay unnoticed

7. You're working very hard, concentrating hard, and you're interrupted. Do you..

a. welcome the break
b. feel extremely irritated
c. vary between these two extremes

8. Which of the following colors do you like most?
a. red or orange

b. black
c. yellow or light blue
d. green
e. dark blue or purple
f. white
g. brown or gray

9. When you are in bed at night, in those last few moments before going to sleep, you lie

a. stretched out on your back
b. stretched out face down on your stomach
c. on your side, slightly curled
d. with your head on one arm
e. with your head under the covers

10. You often dream that you are

a. falling
b. fighting or struggling
c. searching for something or somebody
d. flying or floating
e. you usually have dreamless sleep
f. your dreams are always pleasant

1. a. 2 b. 4 c. 6
2. a. 6 b. 4 c. 7 d. 2 e. 1
3. a. 4 b. 2 c. 5 d. 7 e. 6
4. a. 4 b. 6 c. 2 d. 1
5. a. 6 b. 4 c. 3 d. 5 e. 2
6. a. 6 b. 4 c. 2
7. a. 6 b. 2 c. 4
8. a. 6 b. 7 c. 5 d. 4 e. 3 f. 2 g. 1
9. a. 7 b. 6 c. 4 d. 2 e. 1
10. a. 4 b. 2 c. 3 d. 5 e. 6 f. 1 

Now add up the total number of points.

OVER 60 POINTS: Others see you as someone they should "handle with care" You're seen as vain, self-centered, and who is extremely dominant. Others may admire you, wishing they could be more like you, but don't always trust you, hesitating to become too deeply involved with you.

51 TO 60 POINTS: Others see you as an exciting, highly volatile, rather impulsive personality; a natural
leader, who's quick to make decisions, though not
always the right ones. They see you as bold and
adventuresome, someone who will try anything once; someone who takes chances and enjoys an adventure. They enjoy being in your company because of the excitement you radiate.

41 TO 50 POINTS: Others see you as fresh, lively,
charming, amusing, practical, and always interesting;
someone who's constantly in the center of attention,
but sufficiently well-balanced not to let it go to their head. They also see you as kind, considerate, and understanding; someone who'll always cheer them up and help them out.

31 TO 40 POINTS: Others see you as sensible, cautious, careful & practical. They see you as clever, gifted, or talented, but modest...Not a person who makes friends too quickly or easily, but someone who's extremely loyal to friends you do make and who expect the same loyalty in return. Those who really get to know you realize it takes a lot to shake your trust in your friends, but equally that it takes you a long time to get over it if that trust is ever broken.

21 TO 30 POINTS: Your friends see you as painstaking and fussy. They see you as very cautious, extremely careful, a slow and steady plodder. It'd really surprise them if you ever did something impulsively or on the spur of the moment, expecting you to examine everything carefully from every angle and then, usually decide against it. They think this reaction is caused partly by your careful nature.

UNDER 21 POINTS: People think you are shy, nervous, and indecisive, someone who needs looking after, who always wants someone else to make the decisions & who doesn't want to get involved with anyone or anything. They see you as a worrier who always sees problems that don't exist. Some people think you're boring. Only those who know you well know that you aren't.

February 16, 2005


Hello, my name is Kathleen and I'm a curseoholic. I've been a curseoholic most of my life, since I was a pre-teen. It started with a little damn every now and again--you know, nothing big, just for fun, everyone else was doing it--but soon I moved up to the really strong stuff like fuck. I've been trying, really trying to kick it, but it's hard, so, so hard. I am not giving up, though. I am NOT giving up. I am stronger than the swear words. They have no control over me. And I can prove it. I'm going to finish out Lent without swearing. I don't care about the shakes and night sweats. I can do it!!!

February 15, 2005

Really bad night.

I didn't get very good sleep last night because of something that happened at work yesterday that led me to, once again, swear. Although I'm a little upset that I couldn't keep my cool well enough to keep from reverting to my normal obscenity-slinging, it's what happened that led to the swearing that kept me up. If I write out too much about it, I'm going to kill off the small measure of calm I have been able to reach. Suffice to say that people who cannot meet their work obligations within expected deadlines have absolutely no right to expect others to compensate for their lack of organizational and time-management skills. If you know something is due at a certain time to ensure a continued smooth flow of production, and you don't get it in on time, you've got to be happy with the consequences of putting everyone else in a pinch, even if that means you're going to be less than satisfied with the final product. If you care that much, then be a little more considerate of other people's schedules by getting your act together on time. Basically, you can't have your cake and eat it, too.

Oh, and the other thing that happened is that I learned the hard truth (from the same procrastinating academic being referred to above) that I apparently have no aesthetic. As I'm sure you've all guessed, I'm crushed by this revelation. Yeah, that's right. Just call me Jo-Jo, the mindless keyboard-slapping chimp. Of course, I immediately responded to this situation by going home and cutting out the Pokemon disks from the back of my daughter's macaroni-and-cheese box. Furthermore, I actually managed to cut neatly within the lines. No aesthetic, huh? I've got aeshthetic coming out the ying-yang. But, seriously, this is what I have learned, or re-learned I should say: Everyone is only looking out for themselves. I did realize this pretty quickly during my first job out of college, and despite the fact that I've been disappointed every time I've let myself believe that one person or another was different, I still keep falling for it. I still keep falling for that, "Aw, shucks, I'm just a simple man and/or woman," routine. Seriously, I've got to stop getting suckered. Basically, I've got to remember that when it comes to work, there's no such thing as a friend. So, I'm going to finish drinking my coffee and recommit myself to not being foolish enough to believe people care about doing the right thing at work.

February 14, 2005

Happy Valentine's Day, sweethearts.

Happy V-Day to all, and here's to hoping you got your chocolate. As for myself, my husband gave me my big ole, honking box of heart chocolate on Saturday, so I am well taken care of. That's all I ever want, just the big box of chocolate, and I'll tell you why. When I was a girl, my father gave my mother a heart box of chocolate for Valentine's, and I thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world. It was pink with lace and a big, ugly plastic pink rose in the middle, but to me it was wonderful. It was made more wonderful by the fact that we kids could not eat any of the chocolate. My dad said it was for my mother and we better not belly-rob. So I would stare longingly at the box, wishing I could have something like that. After my mother had finished the chocolate, she kept the box to store stuff in because my mom is very practical that way. For years after, I'd open the box just to see if by some mysterious accident there was still a piece of chocolate in there waiting to be eaten. There never was any more chocolate, but I still kept looking. I would dream of the day when I'd get a beautiful heart-shaped box of chocolates from someone. Now that I'm grown and married, I get one every year. My husband also always gets a smaller box of chocolates for our daughter so she doesn't have to long for mine. Also, she really doesn't like the kind of chocolate that comes in my box. If you've got a friend out there who doesn't have a special someone right now, go out and buy them a box of chocolate. Believe me, you'll make their day.

February 11, 2005

This can still be my year.

OK, I've managed to swear each day, accidently mind you, since Wednesday. But I'm not giving up. I spelled b-a-s-t-a-r-d in the car on Wednesday instead of saying it, but my husband said it didn't count because the only reason I spelled it was because our daughter was in the car. I said a couple of bad words yesterday. I just do it automatically, but I can beat this thing. I am not a slave to my vulgar language.

Can I tell you what a bunch of losers go to my church? They're the most inactive parishioners on the planet. We couldn't plan our normal Valentine's dance this year because Lent started so early and we're not allowed to plan "festive" events at church during Lent. Anyway, one of the other members on the social committee made all these arrangements for us to basically get a group rate at a really nice restaurant in town so that we could still give people the opportunity to do something nice for Valentine's, just not at church. There was space for 26 couples. Anyway, the only people going are social life people. That's six couples. Nobody responded. This is a problem we face with any event we try to put together. Can you tell me why people don't want to have fun? Quite frankly, I think our pastor does a lot to not foster a sense of community at our church and this is how it manifests. People don't feel connected to anything, so they don't participate. For instance, I've mentioned how our deacon is undergoing treatment for brain cancer in Texas. Well, I wanted to put up a money jar in the front office of the school so that we could try to get together money to buy him a portable DVD player that he could take with him while he was gettiing chemo. You know, something to just help him pass the time. Anyway, you have to ask our pastor permission to do anything because he's some kind of control freak and obviously thinks if we do things on our own, we'll end up conducting pagan sacrifice rituals at the church altar. So, I called to make sure there were no problems with us putting out the money jar and he calls me back to tell me that he called Deacon Andy (which made me mad because it's not as if we weren't trying to make the gift a surprise or anything) and said that Deacon Andy told him he didn't need anything like that because there are TV's at the hospital, blah, blah, blah. And the pastor just didn't think this was a good time to do something like that. And I explained, well, he means a lot to the school kids and it might be good for them to feel like they can make him a little more comfortable by just donating a dollar or whatever and he said, "Oh no. We've been asking for quite a bit of donations lately and the classes have projects and I don't want to pressure them into feeling like they need to donate anything else." This guy is constantly asking us for money at the drop of a hat. I don't know what he's going to split hairs now that we want to do something like this. Anyway, you get what I'm trying to say. I don't think he much cares if the parish feels connected. He just wants the money. So, we end up with low participation at church-sponsored events.

I'm tired of complaining.

February 09, 2005


Today is Ash Wendesday and, thus, the beginning of Lent. I'm giving up swearing. I've tried giving up swearing for Lent for the past couple of years and I haven't been successful, but this is my year. I can just feel it.

Well, that's never happened.

Something odd happened as I was getting ready to leave work and pick up my daughter from school on Monday--I passed out. That's the first time in my life anything like that has happened and I have to say it's pretty embarrassing. When I woke up, everyone on my floor had their head poking in the door looking down at me. I'm glad I didn't have drool trailing down my chin. I don't know why I passed out and the doctor is waiting on some blood results to see if there is an explanation. I personally think it had something to do with Jupiter being in the house of Aquarius or something. What was weird is that my mind was all muddled for a couple of hours afterward. It was just odd feeling drunk when I wasn't drunk. Anyway, I feel perfectly normal and I'm not too worried about it.

February 07, 2005

It's about freaking time.

Well, I was somewhat productive over the weekend. I took care of something that has been years overdue. About six years ago, my husband gave me a pair of diamond stud earrings for Mother's Day. I've always wanted diamond stud earrings and I really like the pair he gave me; however, I almost never wear them because I am afraid I'll lose them. I don't wear much jewelry and the jewelry I do wear, I put on and leave on. I don't take off my earrings when I go to bed or take a shower or anything like that. The only time I really change jewelry is if I'm getting dressed up for something or if I figure it's time to change from the gold hoops I've been wearing for a year to a pair of gold studs. Anyway, I wear a pair of cubic zirconia studs because I don't worry about losing those, but I'd really rather wear the diamonds. Now, sitting in my mother's underwear drawer for the past fifteen years has been a diamond ring I received from an ex-boyfriend when I was in college. I haven't known what to do with it. I didn't want to trade it in for something else because, as I've mentioned, I don't really wear jewelry. I did try to hawk it to get money for spring break my senior year of college, but they weren't willing to give me nearly enough to make it worth my time. I offered it to my brother to take in and use as a trade-in for the ring he was planning on getting his fiancee, but he decided he didn't want to do that. While I was home over Christmas, all of a sudden, the idea struck me: I'd trade in the ring to have my diamond studs reset in a setting with a screw-back so I can put them in and not worry about them falling out. And that's what I did this past weekend. I took the ring and earrings into a local jewelry store and it ended up being a perfect trade--the ring for the work on the earrings. I feel very satisfied knowing that I will finally be able to wear my diamond studs all the time, and that the diamond ring has finally been liberated from my mom's panty drawer.

The other interesting thing about the weekend's errands is that it got me to thinking about ex-boyfriends in general, and there's one in particular I often wonder about just because it's like he dropped off the face of the planet. His name is Andy Dutson and I dated him for about a month the summer before my senior year of high school. He dumped me, quite unexpectedly. I know. The thought that a guy could have all this and a bag of chips and not hold on to it is mind-boggling, but he did dump me. However, I've never had a really good explanation for why. Of course, we were teenagers and that's probably all the answer there is, but everything seemed fine until this one day I dropped into the music store where he worked and he was there talking to some girl who'd I'd never seen before and they seemed very chummy. Anyway, he kind of blew me off and left for lunch with that girl and I was like, "What the fuck?" Anyway, I tried calling him later to find out what the deal was and he said we'd talk about it at this place in the canyon where kids would go to hang-out and drink, but when I got there, he wasn't there and we never had the talk and he never called back. And that was the end. There are several things I am grateful for, though, despite that my feelings were hurt. I am glad he ended it like the coward he obviously was because I was getting pretty close to having sex with him, which really means I was getting pretty close to losing my virginity to him. The only rule I ever had about sex for myself was that I wasn't going to do it until I was at least 18. I was 17 at the time I dated this boy, so I was pretty close to breaking my own rule and I am sooooooo happy I held out long enough for him to dump me because if I would have had sex with him, I would have been really, really pissed off. The kind of pissed off where I probably would have tracked him down and slashed his tires and kicked him so hard in the nads that he'd sing soprano for the rest of his life. Because he knew my rule, he knew I wasn't going to have sex until I turned 18, which was still approximately nine months away, but he kept trying and my resolve was weakening with each try. So really, he was trying to get me to throw my own convictions out the window for his own selfish pleasure. Oooh, thank you lord for small miracles. At least I got a Talk Talk tape out of it. He left it in my glovebox and I didn't find it until after he dumped me. I was going to return it, but my dad said, "Hell no. He broke up with you, you don't owe him anything." Anyway, I do wonder what happened to him.

Through bits of information here and there, I think what happened is that the girl he was talking to that day was a girl he'd gotten pregnant. I don't know if they ever got married or anything. I don't know if that was even the girl. All I know is that toward the end of senior year, someone told me he had just had a kid.

February 04, 2005

Mm, mm, mm.

I haven't read Postmodern Courtesan for a few days, but I went there today and she's apparently incited a heated debate over those damn Iraqis and us imperalistic Americans. Although I've mentioned this before, I'll state a few things up front: I am a conservative. I almost always vote Republican. I definitely have more liberal-leaning opinions on social concerns, but still consider them more conservative than the "typical" democrat. I believe in religion, even though I haven't completely come to a "perfect" understanding in my relationship with God. I believe clergy are subject to the same human imperfections that we all are, and when they make mistakes and do bad things, they--and not the Church--are responsible for their actions. I believe people who are in a position to help others should. I believe common sense is seriously lacking in most people today. I believe it's wrong to call someone stupid just because they disagree with you. You should only call them stupid when they are, in fact, stupid, and do something like drink bile on television for money. I absolutely resent anyone implying I am stupid because I voted for Bush. I would never tell someone they were stupid for voting for Kerry. It's childish behaviour, accomplishes absolutely nothing, and shouldn't be encouraged. I think blind devotion of any kind is dangerous.

With that said, I don't think there's anything even close to resembling an objective press in this county. My bachelor's is in journalism and, quite frankly, knowing what I do about the history of the press in this country, I don't think there's ever been such a thing as an objective press. If you think Ben Franklin didn't have an agenda and didn't get down and dirty with the best of the muckrakers, you don't know your history as well as you should. People who choose CNN or Fox News are just choosing the "news" they agree with. I don't think either one is more true than the other. Perhaps if you watch them both, you could put together an amalgamation of truth. So I think it's stupid when people walk around with puffed-up chests thinking they're in the know just because of the channel they've got their televisions set to. You're just in a different know-zone. I believe most Iraqis are happy that Saddam is out of power. I believe people who want to criticize current attempts to establish democracy in Iraq as pointless because it hasn't been accomplished in a few months are being unreasonable. Our country's been a democracy for over 200 hundred years and I still don't think we've got it down quite right. I don't know that we ever will. But it doesn't mean I want to live anywhere else. And I don't believe American attempts to help establish democracies in other countries are bad. I believe we have become so used to immediate gratification in this country that the thought of patience being a virtue is completely lost on most of us. I consider it one of the most fortunate accidents of fate that I was born American. However, in a lot of ways, I think Americans are the most ungrateful and ungracious people in the world because we seem so uninterested in the rest of the world. I don't like to talk politics, although I minored in political science, because I think most people just want to scream about politics and use it as an excuse to ridicule people who hold differing opinions. It's the same reason why I don't like to watch shows like People's Court. I have an opinion on EVERYTHING, but I am not threatened by other people's opinions and don't feel like I need to justify my own.

February 03, 2005

But everyone else is doing it.

OK, I'm jumping on the high-class, sex-monger bandwagon by presenting my elouai doll to you all.

The hair should be longer and darker, but for the most part, I think it gives a pretty good representation of my taste and style, or lack thereof depending on your opinion.

Of course, unlike said sex-mongers wishing to keep their identities anonymous, you can see what I actually do look like to determine how close I really got. Now I know why actors get psyched when toy companies make action figures bearing their likenesses. It's fun. Although, you know, some of those action figures come out looking pretty damn scary and you have to really wonder about the artistic abilities of the person who created the initial model. Some of them look nothing like the actor, and then others are surprisingly close. Remember that Lionel Richie video where the blind girl is making the clay bust of Lionel? Well, the final product was scary looking to me and that's kind of how some of those action figures come out. You know, like a blind person sculpted it. Not that I'm trying to discount the artistic abilities of our vision-impaired brothers and sisters, I'm just saying. Maybe what made it so weird was how they actually tried to recreate Lionel's gerry curl in clay. I'm going to have to say that hair style doesn't translate very well to that particular medium.

February 02, 2005

Can a sister make a buck?

I made these bracelets called salvation bracelets for female friends and family for Christmas gifts this year. My husband showed a bracelet to this lady who owns a boutique down the street from the bank where he works and she said she'd like to sell them. Anyway, I'm trying to find a wholesale bead supplier on the internet where I can get enough materials to make about five bracelets just to see how they sell. I've got a TIN and nowhere to use it. I can't really find a site where I can just type in the number. You'd think it wouldn't be that difficult. If I'm going to sell these things, I don't want to have to pay sales tax on the components. If anyone can point me in the right direction, I'd appreciate it.

We're discussing men in the office today. Nobody understands 'em. That seems to be the consensus. Guy problems abound. That's all I'm really going to say because all the stories are too long and drawn out and would take too much energy to type.

February 01, 2005

That's a spicy stuff.

I'm sitting here drinking spicy hot V8. I am finding this much easier to choke down than regular V8, so I will be making a permanent switch to spicy. I hate regular V8, but, you know, I'm getting to that age where I've got to be really aware of the food I eat or I will turn into one big momma, if you get my drift. What's funny, though, is that the spicy V8 has five more calories than regular V8. I wouldn't have thought tobasco or whatever they put in here would be five more calories. Doesn't that seem surprising? It does to me. Not that the calories are really an issue because it's all just vegetables. It's performance review time here at work. It's not really anything I sweat because I am sooooooo wonderful at what I do that the praise does get a bit embarrassing after awhile. Although, I'll probably get knocked down a few points in the "creates a pleasant environment" section because I yell at people a lot and demand stuff. But that's OK. Really, I think people like the yelling. They like being dominated by me. Heh, heh, heh. No, but seriously, they do. Oh, wait, I've got to mark a rejection down in my submission journal before I forget. OK, I'm back.

Yesterday was '50s dress-up day at my daughter's school and I forgot, so I sent her to school in her regular uniform and when I picked her up at the end of the day she told me that she felt really left out all day long. I told her to get used to that feeling. Naw, I'm joking. I really told her I was sorry for forgetting, so I made sure to dress her up for USA day today. She wanted to wear her "Proud to be a Republican" button. I told her go ahead, but take if off if someone tells her she can't wear it at school. It's Catholic Schools week, so they're having all these special days this week. Just in case you're wondering, I am still mad at corporate America.