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I'm sick. I shouldn't be here. I went up to that wretched casino in a wretched part of California, and was miserable all day. It took an hour and a half to get there, and two and a half hours to get back. Everyone was on their way home from the holiday weekend. We spent four hours there where P won a bundle. I'm glad it was worth it for her, because I was miserable. Did I say that? I had the beginnings of a head cold, and all that cigarette smoke didn't help matters. Blah blah blah, I could go on for a while, but I won't. It's too miserable to recount.

Then we all went to dinner. I met R&P's mom who was much more pleasant than I was led to expect. She seems like a marvelous woman to talk to. For some reason, I thought she would be a shrew. Of course, children will be biased towards their parents and will certainly have a different opinion of them than outsiders will. My friends always thought my mom was fabulous while I thought she was a stick in the mud. In retrospect, I was a total prick as a teenager.

And then I went home, went to bed, and dreamt of weddings again. Third time in as many weeks. I don't know what it's all about, but my subconscious has become obsessed with weddings and marriage. That's a little odd, frankly.

What am I grateful for today? I am grateful that I had four days off to relax and accomplish. I am grateful that The (Little) Man didn't call me in to work. I am grateful that I received the books I ordered today and before the holiday rush. I am grateful that I got paid today.

And by the way, just so you know, FYI, and all that, I write this for myself first and foremost. I love the fact that I can share this "anonymously" on the Internet, but some of the stuff really won't make sense unless you're me. I crack myself up time and again at some of the stuff that I've written here. And sometimes I want to go back and read something that I posted. And sometimes I can't remember where it is. So that's why there's a search button over there. It works, and if you're really curious to find something that you may think exists here, go for it. But in all honesty, it's all about me. Not to be rude or anything.

That's all.

Pissy

OK, that last post was a little rude. But sometimes I feel like I have to justify the existence of this thing. And adding embellishments to the site, even for my own purpose, are really just for fun. I know this isn't a highly travelled site. In the fourteen months that I've had it, I've barely had over 2,000 visitors, and most of them were probably me testing stuff. Whatever. I'm just feeling guilty for being me.

What am I thankful for today? I'm thankful that my mother got her flowers in time. It was her birthday yesterday, she's 55 now, and I sent flowers to work for her. I thought of this over the holiday, and I tried to use www.flowers.com (no link, it's not worth it) but they can't deliver perishables on Mondays. Huh? So I went to FTD to order flowers for a Monday delivery, and they didn't even care that it was a Monday. They were a little more expensive than the other place, but to get what I wanted when I wanted it, I paid more. That's the American way. I don't understand why the other place couldn't deliver flowers (perishables?) on a Monday. Like there are no gardens or nurseries open on Sundays? Like they have no access to delivery services on Sundays? Then how does FTD do it? Whatever. Not my problem anymore.

I am probably going to have to get another (read: second) job. I'm not too excited about that. I did two jobs for about a year, and the pay was nice, but it was crap not having a day off ever. The two job schedules overlapped to where I was working seven days a week. Do I really want to do that again? No. Can I afford not to? No. It's not a matter of overspending, either. It's just a matter of living in an area of the country that might as well be restricted to blue bloods or other rich people who can afford it better, and that sucks. I don't want to have to move simply to provide a better life for myself. I'm not in a good mood today.

Ho hum

I love to complain, I've just recently discovered. "No, go on," you're saying. But yes, it's true. Just take all of last week, for instance. All I could do was complain about The (Little) Man and how he was ungrateful and over-bearing, etc. And now, he has left me alone all week so far. I'm sitting around, just waiting for work to find its way to my desk, and ho hum, I have a chance to think about how over-bearing I can be at times. Alas, I am only human; poke me, I bleed.

So, what am I grateful for today? (And I don't know how much longer I can honestly go on being grateful about stuff...it's just so contrary to my cynical nature.) I am grateful that my car can sail down the highway at 90+ m.p.h. without blowing a gasket. I am grateful that the CHiPs were occupied with other matters this morning so they couldn't bust my ass for sailing down the highway at 90+ m.p.h. I am eternally grateful for 10,000 Maniacs (the Natalie Merchant era, of course) and for Natalie Merchant as a solo artist herself. I am grateful for the name Drema (pronounced Dream-a), which was the name of a lady from South Carolina with a charming and engaging southern accent who I used to work with who was over-occupied with the number 666 and how it came up "far too often" in the random scheme of things, that being the sign of the Devil and all. I think that's all for today. Don't want to get too zealous about this.

I think our spider neighbor has moved on to greener pastures. He/She/It hasn't been hanging around lately, and his/her/its web is starting to fray. I'm sure that spiders are more dignified and conscientious to let their webs fray in public while they are still occupying them, so he/she/it must have moved on. Good luck, you ugly thing.

It's good too because I was starting to freak whenever I saw it just sitting there, almost hovering in the air. I had a dream once about a spider chasing me through my apartment. I was watching the tube, and this giant spider crawled in the window and *plop!* landed right on the floor in front of me. It was enormous, with a body the size and color of a softball, at least. I jumped up and ran into my bedroom and slammed the door shut. I could hear the spider's legs click-clacking on the hardwood floor as it chased me into my room. It was as if the spider were wearing high heels to make such a noise. The noise stopped. Then I heard a faint, repeated tapping on the door as if the spider were being polite, asking me gently to "open up please so I can feed off your blood." I hate spiders.

And so, with the arrival of our guest, my over-active imagination started getting the better of me, and I began imagining that the spider would leap off its web on my back or in my hair or something just vile and horrific. It's truly a paralyzing phobia. I can't emphasize that enough. I wish I knew why!

Smelly Cat

To the tune of "Smelly Cat" à la Phoebe Bouffay

Little Man, Little Man, why must you bother me?
Little Man, Little Man, go the hell away.

He's back. And so is our neighbor. Ms. Spider decided on a change of view. Apparently her condo with the northern exposure was too grandiose for her, so she went out for a while, came back in a bit, and remodeled to form a spartan efficiency that faces the setting sun. She's closer to the door, now, too. She looks happier for it. (Listen to me personifying a spider. Next thing you know I'll be calling the damn thing Charlotte.) This evening, I saw that she had caught herself a big, juicy fly. The thing was huge, and she was sucking the lifeblood from it.

Just like The (Little) Man is doing to me. I worked my bum off today, so I didn't have time to be grateful for anything. I thought I would drop by now and say hi before going to beddie-bye.

Hi, and sweet dreams.

Happy Friday, Everyone

That includes you, too, (Little) Man.

What does it all mean?

I'm just now looking at this googlism thing, and I'm not sure what to make of all of this...except where noted, of course:

michael is one hot papi chulo (what is a papi?)
michael is very sexy (*blush*)
michael is the most (to say the least)
michael is missing
michael is safely in rochester
michael is cool
michael is god the father as taught by brigham young
michael is the devil (I could have told you that)
michael is $30 (some call me a bargain, others call me cheap)
michael is gonna be ok
michael is the best
michael is committed to healthy water
michael is surprisingly cheerful after an uncomfortable landing
michael is the best vote for this site in online music awards dear
michael is entitled to voice his views on tony blair (thank you)
michael is canada bound (how do you know all of this?)
michael is the most popular name in north america
michael is not about flashy miracles (must be a different michael)
michael is suffering over human evolution before the time of his earthly activity
michael is leaving las vegas
michael is mentioned 13 times in the ot and 2 times in the nt exhaustive concordance tells us that the ot meaning for michael is "who is like god"
michael is the name of an archangel we refer to on our what about angels? page
michael is ? (probably the most accurate one here)
michael is he who is (tell it like it t-i-is)
michael is possibly the best ever of this wine
michael is not latoya (thank ya Jesus!)
michael is the only one said to be "the archangel"
michael is now living on the outskirts of a tiny village near the ocean (I'll send postcards!)

Just another odd way for me to kill time.

Gratitude

I am grateful that there's a moon in the sky (it's called the moon). I'm grateful that I can roam where I want to. I'm grateful for footprints on the ceiling (how did they get there?). I'm grateful for tomatoes and black-capped chickadees. I am grateful for dancing in torn sheets in the rain. I am grateful for a place where we are free, where we throw our suits into the sea. I am grateful for the latest model get away Jeep.

Happy Monday

The itsy bitsy spider
Crawled up the water spout
Down came my umbrella
And killed the bitch.

I've had enough of the wilderness thing. This isn't Walden, and it's not the Wild, Wild West anymore. And that's that. I took my broom yesterday and knocked down the web while the spider was out, and this morning it was partially restored. Ha. You think you can fuck with me? It was raining this morning, and so my umbrella took the web out for me this time. Don't mess with me, sweetie. At a couple of ounces, if that, you're clearly no match for a 210 pound (15 stone) human being, unless, of course, you want your innards and unborn children to be smeared all over the sidewalk, dear Charlotte, and then I can only be too happy to oblige.

I'm losing my mind more quickly now than before. I can't wait for this job to be over!

BBC's fashion-advice show can get ugly

Another reason I love the British...and hate the fact that I don't have cable!

Another Record

Today was another rainy commute, and I managed to set another record for myself. It took me three (3) hours to travel fifty-five miles. Three. There were no accidents. There were no road blockages. The roads that I travelled were major highways (80 and 280). It was a typical Tuesday morning commute except that it was raining, and that it took me three hours.

I know, I bitch and moan about this trip all the time, but I had to mention the new record.

In fact, this didn't need to happen at all. I can claim full responsibility for it. I set out to take the bus this morning, and as I reached the BART station, I dug into my wallet for my BART ticket and my bus ticket, and I couldn't find my bus ticket. So, rather than going through the turnstiles and having to leave again (incurring a $3.80 charge), I stopped, got on the floor and started routing through my bag looking for the missing bus ticket. Without that bus ticket, I couldn't get on the bus, duh. Let me tell you, I'm glad I did this before I got on the train because if I had, I would have called in sick...with disgust. Go all the way to Union City with no bus ticket and no cash to board the bus, get back on BART to Rockridge and then get in my car to drive to work? No. So, I got in my car and drove. For three hours.

That's alls I got to say.

Animal rights group seeks end to 'Happy Cows' ad campaign

You mean cows and chickens can't really talk? Give me a break, PETA people. Do you not have anything better to do? Personally, I think these commercials are hilarious. Get a sense of humour.

Tuesday Two-For

Today was shit. But I had two fun BART stories, going and coming. This morning, at a fresh six o'clock a.m., I got to stare (with no sort of reproach, mind you, because that's just not who I am, you see) at a lady with curlers in her hair. Curlers. Big, baby blue soup cans tacked up in her beehive. With no scarf, no hat, just out there in plain sight, in the glaring fluorescent light of the BART train for all to see. Curlers. And mascara. And big eyes. And the lips! That was a new one for me. I mean, what was she going to do, waltz into work like that and style her hair at her desk? Perhaps she would pop into a loo on the way up to the street level and put herself together. No shame.

Then on the way home, we all had the treat to be escorted through the underground with Linda Hunt at the helm...or at least by someone who sounded exactly like Linda Hunt. I'll choose to think that it was actually Linda Hunt.

I hate being good a what I do. It makes me so sought after. I'm not trying to be an egotist here, because you know, I'm just not an egotist. But at work, I had stuff coming at me from all directions because, apparently, I'm the only one who can be trusted with the work. Bah.

<snip for being too intellectual>

And then I woke up and dinosaurs were jumping on my head.

And then, I turned my head and felt my earphones and remembered where I was. Sometimes, when my "earbuds" are playing music or spilling voices into my head, I forget that they're there. Another feeling thing. I forget they're there, the music or voices are there, and it's like they're being beamed in from somewhere else. Is that too weird? Well, this is the place to admit it, isn't it?

Two more days until the new Star Trek movie.

Il pleut des cordes !

I love winter, especially when we have El Niño visiting. He always brings so much rain! I love it when it rains. I'm half-tempted to say that I'm only happy when it rains, but then that's so cheesy, even though I love Shirley.

I watched Spider-Man for the first time last night. It was so cool! And Tobey Maguire sure is cute.

And I saw Star Trek: Nemesis on Saturday night. How depressing was that? I mean the ending just blew me away, no pun intended. I was not expecting that at all. The story was good, but now I'm so sad because it truly was the "final voyage." And supposedly, Kate Mulgrew (a.k.a. Captain [now Admiral] Kathryn Janeway) doesn't want to do movies for Voyager, so what do we get now? I don't want to wait four more years for another ST movie. What ever will I do with myself?

Bobblehead

OK, there's a new kid in town who wants some of this, and I'm just about through. Her name (isn't really, but from this point forward) is Bobblehead. She's an associate director, and a tout petit little person. She's short and very, very thin, and her head is too big for her body. So, because she looks like a bobblehead, that's her new name. Because I can. In fact, she works for The (Little) Man. She fecked up really really bad. I told her how to fix it, and in essence put shame upon her Ph.D., and so she decided to turn the tables on me and blame me for her ineptitude. Fortunately, my boss was paying attention to all of this, and he defended me and made her look like this small. But that makes the third person at this place who has done this to me. I couldn't give a feck about Bobblehead, except when she DIES A SLOW, PAINFUL DEATH (but I'm not bitter), I just don't understand why I'm such a target. Why me? All I've done is bust my ass for these people. I get up at the crack of dawn to face a horrible commute in any weather. I work long hours doing quality work, and this is what I get? People who betray me and blame me for their mistakes? Because they're too small and spineless to admit that they're feckin human and they make feckin mistakes? I swear to God!! What did I do?

Alls I got to say is that in my next life I'd better be feckin rich!

I got to go. Buffy's on.

Ants

Let's see. It's Saturday morning, half two. I just cleaned the bathroom and killed lots of ants. I can't tell if they came in because the bathroom was nasty (which it often is considering it's my chore, and I get no help around here, and I have no time to clean it on a regular basis) or an escape from the rain outside. I've heard both about ants: they come inside to escape the water; they come in to find the water. OK, motherfuckers, make up your fucking minds before I squash you all into oblivion. Whatever. Just die. I hate ants, too.

Did I ever tell you my ant story? Wanna hear it? Here it goes:

One night, when I was living in my basement apartment in Monterey, I was out with my dear friend Liz. We were probably drinking margaritas at her place, yelling at the queers on the sidewalk below on their way to the only gay bar in town. We liked that. 'S OK, we knew them, they knew us. It was friendly, you know. Anyway, we lived on opposite sides of DLI from each other. So, this night, it was summer I think, but then it could have been winter because Monterey really only has one season: Monterey. (I've had a little wine tonight/this morning, so forgive.) So, I cut through DLI avoiding the MPs because they're not too keen on civilians cutting through DLI at all hours of the morning. I know this because I used to be enlisted and stationed at DLI, but you can know this by reading my 100 things page (number 16). Whatever. Irrelevant.

So, I get home, lock the door, turn off all the lights, tear off my clothes and fall into bed. It must have been winter; summers are never warm enough to sleep nekkid. And what do I feel on my bed but small things wiggling around.

I jump up, screech like a girl, flip on the light to find a swarm of ants that had made its way from the window (at ground level) down the wall and on to my bed. I freaked. I think I may have even curled up in the corner for a minute or so.

In any case, I ran for the Raid and sprayed the bejeezus out of the trail leading to and from the window. I picked up my green fuzzy (infested) blanket and ran outside and shook the bejeezus out of it to rid it of ants.

What I'm failing to express here is the sheer fright and lunacy that took over my (drunken) rational mind at this time. It was seriously affecting, and I let it affect me. This was like three in the morning or something silly, but I didn't care. I had to get rid of them.

Long story short, I managed to kill them all and deter them from coming in my bedroom again. So this was six years ago already, and the mere memory of that night/morning still gives me shivers thinking of those little bastards crawling over me. I'm getting weak.

That apartment was really not that bad. I liked the place. The location was perfect, although it was directly under the landing path of airplanes landing at Monterey (Int'l) Airport, so whenever I was on the phone and a plane of any size flew overhead, I had to wait a few seconds for it to pass before I could continue talking. The landlord was a stupid, ignorant, Catholic, homophobic Italian asshole whose wife was a shrew if there ever was one. And remind me to tell you about the raccoons. I love that particular saga of Clay Street, but not tonight/this morning. I really have to go to bed.

That's all.

Today's the Winter Solstice. So everyone rejoice!! Go out and play and frolick and make love and be happy!!

Happy Monday

I worked all day yesterday, 10 to 6. And there was the cutest guy working in IT, but I've never seen him before, so I didn't recognize him and didn't know his name. He was just adorable. He gave me the nicest smile as we both went in to get catered Indian food for lunch at the same time. Pretty eyes and a friendly face. And he's not here today. Maybe he only works weekends. Eh, it doesn't really matter because I hope to be out of here in a couple of weeks anyway.

I'm against Christmas trees. I don't approve of chopping down a perfectly healthy living tree just to drag it home, fill it up with silly decorations and lights, only to throw it to the curb a month later and watch it be carted away by the trashmen. I think it's cruel, especially when they've made great strides in making artificial trees so much more lifelike and realistic...even with lights built in to the branches! But then I'm against the whole idea of Christmas anyway. I think it's cute that my Weather Pixie has a Christmas tree, but that's as far as it goes. Bah. Humbug. I can't wait for it to be over.

I'm still here

This submission thing is dragging its butt as hard as it can. I was here for a whopping sixteen hours yesterday, oh and did I mention that I worked ten hours on Xmas day, not that it has any great significance for me or anything? Can we say bling bling!!! I left at 2 o'clock a.m. and stayed over at R&W's, just like old times, you know. And to show you my level of commitment to this process, I have violated one of the most cardinal rules of fashion and am wearing the same thing today as I wore yesterday. But, hey, all in the line of duty. Thank my stars I have good hair. They have absolutely no hair products there and neither comb nor brush. I used my fingers to style today. And I pulled it off, again. *Pat on my back.* My head is splitting (thank my stars for Excedrin), my throat is parched (thank my stars for Calistoga), my eyes are tired (thank my stars for Visine), and I completely missed the entire filming of Ken's movie!!!! How pissed am I? Now I'll have to wait to be invited to his next feat. I can still witness the post-production down in LA this spring, which I most definitely will do. I need another trip, and why not to LA?

Well, let me tell you

Stick a fork in me, I'm done. The thing is boxed up, "palletized" (which is a word I'm sure the OED doesn't know about yet), and waiting for the Prez and CEO to send it on its maiden and final voyage to Washington, DC tomorrow evening. There is a going-away party scheduled for the back parking lot, near the loading dock tomorrow afternoon (weather permitting) to allow us to bid the submission adieu as it's sent on its merry way. Thank my stars it's over. Any more of that and you would have had to put me down.

I'm a little giddy, I think, because of the lack of sleep and the heightened emotions and adrenaline, et cetera, et cetera of the last couple of weeks. As I've said in this blog before, there's always kind of a let down when these things finish and leave our midsts. It's like we climb up this really steep and treacherous hill hoping to see a beautiful vista on the other side and we wind up looking at Manteca or something. (No offense to any Mantecans. It was the first place to come to mind. That's my story, and I'm sticking with it.) The ship leaves, our blood, sweat, and tears staining the passengers, and we turn to look at each other like, "OK, now what?"

Now I take a week off, get totally pissed for the New Year and spend some time recovering. Oh and I have to do laundry, too.

Awww, how sweet

There are so many ways I can read into this, but I'll choose to offer a few new lyrics to an old song:

sung to the tune of Jolene:

J-Lo, J-Lo, J-Lo, J-Lo
I'm begging of you please don't take my man
J-Lo, J-Lo, J-Lo, J-Lo
Please don't take him just because you can

You had to have your choice of Ben
Now I will never love again
He's the only one for me, J-Lo

I had to have this talk with you
My happiness depends on you
And whatever you decide to do, J-Lo

J-Lo, J-Lo, J-Lo, J-Lo
I'm begging of you please don't take my man
J-Lo, J-Lo, J-Lo, J-Lo
Please don't take him even though you can

If you want to see

If you want to see a superb, fantastic, spectacular movie this season, go see Chicago. I saw it last night and I was weak. Catherine Zeta-Jones, Renée Zellweger, and Richard Gere all do their own singing and dancing. Queen Latifah was Mama Morton, but we all knew she could sing. I just can't get over how awesome that movie was!! Go see it.

Happy New Year

Let's see...what clever, witty things can I come up with today?

As I've said previously, the submission is over and presumably sitting in the receiving area of the FDA in Rockville, Maryland. Now I get some time off. Time off to get my life back in order. This place is a mess. I haven't had a chance to go through my mail, my bills, my closet. I need to purge. I think that's the theme for 2003: purge. I am a pack rat to beat all others. I save anything that I think might be remotely useful in the future. I debate with myself over what I should keep and why. And sometimes I even say to myself: "God, I couldn't live without this! And what if I did chuck it? What would I do with myself?" That's sad.

So, barring any major tantrums from El Niño I'll be out at my storage, purging for as long as it takes. Whoa, déjà vu...have I said this before?

OK, what else is new? The night I saw Chicago, I also had the pleasure of seeing the dailies from Ken's movie. I had never seen dailies before, and it was really cool. It further enhances the disappointment I have in myself for not seeing the filming of the movie live. I really wanted to see that. Oh well, there will be others. We stayed up till about seven o'clock and then I drove home. I slept for a few hours and then went to wish the boxes bon voyage.

Yesterday, H and I spent the day together in the City. I had errands to run, and he came with. It was pretty neat, actually. We hadn't done anything like that in a long time, and I enjoyed it. We ran all over town, and ended up having dinner at Houston's. I like that place. They have these chicken tenders that are so good, with a pile of fries and black beans and rice. Total carbs but 's OK, cause we went to the Y after that. We used to go to Houston's all the time as a "treat," cause neither of us really made the bucks to go to any place more fancy. So it's an old stand-by, you see.

So then we went for a swim and that's it.

Tonight I don't know what's going to happen. It's raining now, and we'll see. I want to get fucked up, that's all I know. I told R that if I turn up missing, check the gutters and you might find me there. Ha ha. Alls I know is that I want to hang around with a bunch of gay men and I want to smell them. I love the smell of men, especially when they're drinking and hot and their cologne is wearing off. Maybe I'll even head over to the Lone Star. I haven't been there in an age.

That's all. Cheers and see you next year!