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Are the birthdates of the world evenly distributed over the days of the Gregorian Calendar as we know it? |
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AA Advantage, MyPoints, and Company Discounts, oh my!
It is downright confusing, I tell you, trying to get the best deal. I am not a bargain shopper by nature. You'd think I would be, with a mother who's half Scottish and who supported our family of three on just her salary while my dad chased his dreams for the entire time I lived at home, but you'd be wrong. My mother's philosophy was: If you need it, buy it. If you don't need it, a coupon isn't going to help. It's still money you shouldn't spend.
And she's right, of course. That's not to say she doesn't try to get the best deal--she has charge cards at all her favorite stores because a) she has self-control, unlike me, and b) she saves money at them. She and Nordstrom, in particular, have had a long and loving relationship. (Possibly better than her marriage. Hi, mom!) But she never clipped coupons. She had a deep understanding of the fact that her hourly rate paid her more money than she could save while clipping coupons.
Enter: Me. Hi, guys! I'm a young woman on my own, now, and at 25, my attitudes about money and entitlement are all wrapped up in how my mama raised me and how much money I have and my mama's view of my FATHER'S relationship with money (none too good) and my Scottish background plus my attitude towards electronics and a sense of disdain over saving pennies and yet at the same time a basic OCD approach to life, which would suggest that really, I LOVE details about saving money and coupons and the like. Also throw in: a metalook at What's Important To Me In Life, as in, (hypothetically speaking) should I buy new sheets and a new duvet cover because I have a huge freakin' tear in mine and I'm a Successful Engineer, Dammit, or should I use my mama's hand-me-downs and save my money for not only Tickets to Ghana and Pittsburgh, but also Eurail passes and the like in the future?
(Full Disclosure: I bought the sheets.)
Because, if I can afford both Bedding AND Tickets right now (thank you, Bonus!) then maybe I SHOULD go ahead and buy sheets and a duvet cover and maybe an iPod converter for my car radio, right? Because I'm a Successful Engineer, Dammit, and why the hell should I at THIS point in my life sleep on hand-me-down sheets or listen to our crappy local music stations?
(Full disclosure: I'm still sleeping on a futon and I can't wake up in time to ever remember my iPod anyway.)
Do the right purchases lead to a better lifestyle (better sleep, more time in the morning, more time to enjoy my music)? Or do all purchases simply boost the economy and allow us to chase the dream while simultaneously making sure we never attain the dream?
It's like going to Trader Joe's and maybe, hypothetically, buying $110 worth of stuff so that I wouldn't Waste Money On Lunch at work. Have I, in point of fact, just wasted my money twice because all that will go to waste and I'll end up buying money because I can't wake up on time to make lunch because I'm still sleeping on a futon and will never listen to my iPod?
So since I KNOW that my purchases are really just a feeble attempt to Live the Dream while simultaneously trying to save money to Actually Travel, I might as well try to save money where I can, right?
And here we come around full circle to Bargain Shopping.
If I have a MyPoints account, and I buy things on there and get points back to redeem at other stores (like Starbucks, hooray!), is that better than buying everything through my American Airlines account and earning miles? Or what about buying things through the company discount site and just saving money that I can use at my disposal?
Welcome to my first forays into Bargain Shopping. With no map, no guidance, and a hunger for such stuff as dreams are made on, not to mention a need to quote Shakespeare, I go once more into the breach.
Things I Have Learned, So Far:
1. Most Corporate Discounts suck. My corporate discount at B&N, for example, is 5%. You could get more bang for the buck earning miles instead.
2. So far, my experience with MyPoints has not been great, but it's very little effort to click the links and it takes about three months to earn a $10 Starbucks gift card.
3. Note: It would be faster and better to just get a Starbucks Visa, except that I'm probably not allowed one with my credit.
4. It would be even better to buy stock in Starbucks and get dividends if I like them so much.
5. And if I buy other things through MyPoints in order to get points, then that just encourages me to spend MORE money on consumer stuff I really don't need!
6. Much better to earn miles!
7. So if I'm in MyPoints just for the Starbucks cards, I'm wasting my time.
8. Buy everything from AA Advantage in the future.
The End. |
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GAR!
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Sep. 23rd, 2005 @ 03:23 pm
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My pirate name is:
Bloody Morgan Cash
Every pirate lives for something different. For some, it's the open sea. For others (the masochists), it's the food. For you, it's definitely the fighting. You're musical, and you've got a certain style if not flair. You'll do just fine. Arr!
Get your own pirate name from fidius.org. |
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The above only makes sense if you read Pearls Before Swine. And if you don't, what's wrong with you?
The below is courtesy of lazerchik and wildorchids. Hi, ladies!
English Genius
You scored 100% Beginner, 100% Intermediate, 93% Advanced, and 93% Expert! |
You did so extremely well, even I can't find a word to describe your excellence! You have the uncommon intelligence necessary to understand things that most people don't. You have an extensive vocabulary, and you're not afraid to use it properly! Way to go!
Thank you so much for taking my test. I hope you enjoyed it!
For the complete Answer Key, visit my blog: http://shortredhead78.blogspot.com/. |
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My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:
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You scored higher than 69% on Beginner |
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You scored higher than 53% on Intermediate |
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You scored higher than 49% on Advanced |
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You scored higher than 89% on Expert |
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INTROducing...MY VERY BEST FRIEND IN THE WHOLE DAMN WORLD!
Okay, I have a couple of those. But it sounds ridiculous to say, "Introducing...one of my very best friends in the whole damn world", because it sounds wussy, like I can't make up my mind.
So! She's HERE! She's smart! She's funny! She's witty! She wears stilettos! She'll knock your socks off! (She'd better, after all this.)
And her blog is here: she's One of THOSE People. And we all know who those people are. Read it.
We're just a couple of T-Town girls, y'all.Our Mood Roller Coaster Stop For Today Is:  excited |
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So, I went to bed at 11:30 last night, got woken up by a phone call at 2:30 am, and finally dragged my sorry ass out of bed at 6:00 am. As in, the time that I have to actually BE AT THE TRAIN STATION. Okay, so I'm not making my usual train today. I have a brief discussion with myself over whether I should take the later train and take the bus between the train station and the office, or drive. If I take the later train, I can avoid driving, always a plus. And since I took that goddamned ecology quiz yesterday, I'm suddenly very aware of how much I consume. Then I can either take the first train home, which would make a short day (but no one would notice) or the SECOND train home, which would include riding with Young Tacoma Engineer, who's funny and cute. (Yes, he has a live-in girlfriend, but he's still on the Potential Interest List.) However, after losing my phone (I had already put it in my bag, where it was supposed to be) and putting on my jeans before underwear, TWICE, not to mention losing my keys (in my pocket), I decide I don't even have enough time to make the latest train to work. And I need coffee very badly.
I get coffee. (Plain. No cheating here, no sirree!) Starbucks has this going for it, at least: they seem to hire a diverse group of people. Surly, cheerful, sullen, quiet, talkative, freaky, funny, cute, ugly, fat, thin, miserable, happy, disabled, perfectly abled, male, female, transsexual, you're never sure what your barista is going to look like. But it's unlikely that you'll be hit full in the face with a gaggle of cheerful, blindingly-clear-skinned, super-thin, hyped up young girls with perfect hair, like what happens at many early-morning independent coffee chains. (Where do they find those girls, anyway? Are they beamed directly down from the mothership? Why can they all afford adorable cars on a barista's salary? Why do they all have rich boyfriends?) But I digress...I'm at the UW Tacoma Starbucks, right. It's sunny. I'm really short on sleep. A shiny black late-model Nissan Maxima turns to park right before I do. Two ladies get out. They're wearing nametags, and they say Goody Obedience on them. Great. Jehovah's witnesses. Of course, they're here for the 3-day Tacoma Dome conference. I vow to myself that they will NOT get ahead of me in line.
I'm not fast enough. One lady gets ahead of me, one doesn't. My mama has raised me right, goddammit, and before I can stop myself, I hear myself turning around to the lady behind me and saying, "Would you two like to stand together?" My brain says: WTF, Mouth? What are you doing? Fortunately the lady behind me is very nice and says, "Oh no, we're not attached at the hip." The lady in front of me turns around and says, "In fact, we've already discovered we have so much in common that a little space is nice!" I'm thinking, "You're both members of the same weird cult, you live in the same part of the country, you're roughly the same age, and you're both married--of COURSE you have a lot in common, idiots," but I don't say anything, watching to see how much I'm going to hate the lady in front of me. She orders two coffees, both pretty complicated, including one with 8 SHOTS of Butternut Toffee syrup (but nonfat!) but so far, she seems nice. She's extremely polite to the baristas, she was nice to me but not overly so, she hasn't tried to convert me yet, OR the barista, and although she gets two pastries, too, she doesn't take up a long time at the counter, she doesn't hover directly in the middle of the counter so you can't be helped by the barista on either side, (I HATE it when people do that) she hands over her cash quickly, and tips the barista well. She jokes with me about the pastries. She's funny! She moves out of the way when she's done! I get my tall coffee. As I'm leaving, I say to the lady behind me, "I want to thank you for improving my opinion of Jehovah's Witnesses this morning." She's surprised, but she smiles, and says, "Well, thank you!" I move on into the bright sunlight.
The drive to work was very, very smooth.Our Mood Roller Coaster Stop For Today Is:  peaceful |
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This is really important. For all of you who haven't heard about the Karl Rove scandal, you can certainly google it, but the jist is that Karl Rove allegedly leaked the identity of a covert CIA operative to a reporter to pay that operative's agent back for daring to oppose the war. Karl Rove must be stopped. Ask the President to do the right thing.
On another note entirely, the luncheon went fine and I got really good free food, and they made us wait for an hour so by the time I got there I had two kinds of rice AND a roll AND a huge berry tart, all to myself. What? I've lost eight pounds? No longer...
...but on the other hand, I walked for an hour last night--AFTER kickboxing--(see last post) and am walking quite a bit tonight, AFTER hip-hop class. As long as I don't regress, I'll be fine. This losing-weight busines is some tough shit! On a side note, it's really weird to see the numbers drop on my scale--I've never tried to lose weight before, ever, in my entire life. Weird, I tell you.Our Mood Roller Coaster Stop For Today Is:  cynical |
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She was wandering down South 12th, occasionally meandering into traffic, and I was concerned enough that I pulled over as soon as I could and called to her--I thought she was male for quite some time, not feeling the need to find out for certain, but eventually she peed on someone's lawn and I knew her gender. I called out to her and she came galloping up to me like I was her best friend, and I lost a little bit of my heart. I walked up and down South 12th for an hour, deliberating on what I should do, all the while thinking that I have my own German Shepherd at home (although the friendly bitch by my side looked purebred) who hadn't had a walk from me yet that day and wouldn't get one because here I was, focusing all my attention on this stray, when my own dog at home would have killed for an hour-long walk on that nice night. I knocked on a few doors and accosted a few people walking along the street, not that there were many, and I got nothing. I called my best friend, who also has a dog, and she suggested letting the dog roam--she had a collar and a bandanna and a flea collar on, and was obviously loved, but she didn't have a license or a tag of any kind, and the pound would be forced to assume she was a stray and put her up for adoption. I couldn't take her from her summer evening stroll and lock her up in a cage in the hopes that someone would take her home before they put her down. I thought taking her to the pound would be the "correct" thing to do, but that letting her roam might be the right thing. She clearly had a home to go to, and after following her around for an hour (as it got more and more past my bedtime, which is 10:00 pm, and it was getting close to eleven) and walking her past TheBoy's house--he thought I was crazy, by the way, but he was very supportive, and advised letting her roam--I turned and left her, walking fast. She eventually turned my way and followed me, but then went off to find her own path, and I drove home, saying a prayer.
And now I'm CRYING AT MY DESK when I have to go to a LUNCHEON in an hour, less than, and I have NO MAKEUP ON OR WITH ME, because I took my damn makeup bag out of my damn laptop bag this morning because it took up too much damn room, when I KNOW better. I KNOW that any time you don't bring your makeup, you'll automatically need it. I know this. Fuck me. I'm crying over the joy of finding Sweetie, which is what I named her because I kept calling her that for lack of name, and the sadness of losing her (She was such a nice dog! You should have seen her!) and the guilt and feeling of hopelessness that I couldn't do more for her and the sadness of all lost dogs and unloved animals and anger against Darwin, that survival of the fittest even exists, because clearly it's all due to him that there's not enough love and resources to go around in this world, and how amazing animals are in their unconditional love for you and how wonderful dogs are and how I feel so sad because I couldn't live up to the love and hope in Sweetie's eyes. I couldn't make her world better. I couldn't be her hero, and I wanted to be. I'm sad for her family, imagining how lucky they are to have such a wondeful dog and how much they must miss her when she's away, and even sadder over the possibility that they may not love her the way she deserves, and, yes, I'm crying over guilt that I spent more time on her than I did on my own ignored dog that beautiful summer night, and that getting a drink with Jessica seemed to be more important than walking my dog until I found Sweetie, and, oh, all sorts of other things. Including the fact that I'm clearly on the rag. :)
Ways to make myself feel better: well, I have spoons chilling (ha!) in the freezer for just this purpose, and I can put them against my eyes and splash cold water on my face and walk around purposefully outside, thus preparing for the luncheon, and I do at least have lip gloss, and after going home today I can walk Titan both before hip-hop and after getting a drink with Rachel and Tiffany, and enjoy what promises to be a beautiful night with him. And Titan did ride around with me in the car last night for an hour as I ran errands, which he loves. And I threw the ball for him a few times in the backyard. And YESTERDAY, Monica (roommate) and I played Frisbee in the nearby park and took Titan with us, and we threw tennis balls for him and he frolicked and generally had a wonderful time. So THERE.Our Mood Roller Coaster Stop For Today Is:  sad |
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Well, almost. But still! It's a HUGE improvement!
And in an effort to stay with the improvement, I bought myself a Starbucks card for $30 (because I got a free half-pound of coffee with it) and am using it for as long as I can, goddammit. And I made a pact with my friend two weeks ago to only drink fancy coffee on the weekends, which so far I'm...SORT of sticking to. As in, my coffee drink every morning is very definitely plain black coffee, but sometimes in the afternoons...when the traffic is heavy, and it's warm, and I'm falling asleep at the wheel when I drive home...I get myself a Frap. And it is good. (And no, the coffee card didn't affect the overdraft any. I had to get it with my Visa card. Before you ask.)
But I tell my friend every time I cheat on her, so I get exercise from groveling! In fact, I'm SO hard core about this week-day ban that yesterday, while at Starbucks and buying my plain coffee, my friend J was working there, and he passed to me a fresh-made frap that was a mistake, and I took it home and gave it to my roommate! So THERE! I turned down FREE fancy coffee!!
Ahem. I think instead of Fraps on the drives home, I'm switching to Diet Red Bull. (God, I've become the kind of person who drinks diet! I swore I'd NEVER be that kind of person!) And not only that--for those all-in-one needs, I've even switched to Sparks LIGHT. (Click on the blue Sparks Light can.) For those of you who don't know what Sparks is, what the hell is wrong with you?
And the end result of all this--plus the portion-watching, although I have no limits when it comes to Indian Food--I have lost eight pounds, ladies and gentlemen.
Eight pounds. Less than the size of a cat. But not too shabby, all the same. It might be more like ten pounds. Or more like six pounds. But I'm going for eight; it's the average, and it's about 5% of the weight I started with. I want to lose another ten pounds, making the total weight loss just a hair over 10% of my original body weight, and I think that's healthy. Although if I ended up losing 15 pounds I wouldn't say no. :)Our Mood Roller Coaster Stop For Today Is:  accomplished |
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I am wearing deodorant! Yes! Me! Deodorant!
No, you don't understand: I hardly EVER wear deodorant, because I don't smell that bad (really, I've lived with two separate very honest people) and I have a gigantic phobia of deodorant. Not that build-ups of aluminum chloride or whatever will cause me to get cancer, (right, and Gates will send me a million dollars) but that deodorant will stick to my clothes and gum up my razor and, worse, stick to my fingers if I accidentally touch my underarms, and then I can't even wash the deodorant off with soap because it's DEODORANT, and it sticks to my fingers and makes touching things weird. Yes. It Makes Touching Things Weird.
But temperatures have gotten warmer here, folks, and Dove has this fantastic deodorant ad campaign out, and I've been very active lately (moving, throwing parties, dancing, walking the dog in the sunshine--although it's cold and gray here today) and I've been sweating, and when you can smell yourself, y'all, it's not a good thing. So I bought deodorant--while ON THE WAY TO CLUBBING IN SEATTLE. AT A GAS STATION. But it was Dove! And so far, it's fulfilling all my needs. Go deodorant! I can't believe I don't use this stuff more!
Also, in the Quest For The Perfect Hair Goop, I bought hair goop from Garnier Fructis, more specifically their XXL gel, which I will try as soon as I decide to actually spend time on my hair. Which hasn't happened yet. But everyone should go to their site because it's a great time waster: they have a soundtrack AND a hair quiz!
Also I just discovered I have an overdraft of 43 dollars, which for me is tragedy--MOST of that is the damn fee! There's no space in Crazy Aunt Purl's budget for that! ARGH!
The most annoying thing is that I specifically went to two different banks yesterday just so I could transfer money from one account to the next. And I didn't transfer enough. ARGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Our Mood Roller Coaster Stop For Today Is:  busy |
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First, a snippet thought from before the house party that I just discovered in my old, forgotten, drafts:
I came home yesterday to discover that an army of musicians had moved into my house.
No, really, it was only Monica (yes, we scheduled the house party for two days after her move-in date...so?) but I was so overwhelmed I walked in circles around our house like a sick animal. In my head, I'm thinking, Call your Mom. Call Rachel. Call a priest. Call your roommate. Call off the party!
Y'all know now that I didn't do ANY of those things, and that Monica and I moved our household of furniture in, basically, a 48 hour period. ROAR!
And more scattered thoughts:
I'm pretty sure I'm going to be single, soon, or at least less committed. I like TheBoy a lot--but I'm itching to be single. Yes, there's boys on the list I want to date...but that's not the reason. It's just so summery and warm and nice out, and TheBoy is leaving for the Peace Corps in January, and after months of heartache and emotional wrangling, I've pretty much written off the relationship, so now it's just a waiting game--and if you know it's going to end, why wait? I know he's not the right person for me, and in six months he'll be leaving for two and a half years. I'd like to stay with him in some capacity, though...so I'd like to just step the commitment back. But if he doesn't want that (likely) then I'll say goodbye.
I have internet at my house! WOOOOOO!
I need a chair for my computer, or at least a stool. Or maybe a kneepad. I spend a lot of time on my knees, typing, in lieu of sitting. Feel free to make jokes about this.
Monica and I continue to make our house adorable. Pictures are coming at Everyday Feminism. IKEA rules my school.
HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY, EVERYBODY!
Jul. 4th, 2005 @ 01:37 pm
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| » No in-depth post... |
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Because, um, I enjoyed myself a great deal at the party, and couldn't work my camera phone, (although I didn't get half as effed up as I did at my LAST house party!) and no one stood still for pictures anyway, (and with the amount of trouble I was having with my camera phone, they would have needed to stand still until they aged) and the light wasn't very good and I was too involved changing music, re-filling the jungle juice bowl, and talking to people!
Highlights: My parents came, and even stayed for a little while! They weren't scared of my friends!
All my B----- peeps carpooled down from Everett! (For the record, that's about an hour and a half, one way. Three hours round trip.)
One of the B----- peeps brought Everclear, from his home state of Montana, and I made some excellent and very potent jungle juice with it.
One of my friends passed out, not once, but TWICE.
Another one of my friends passed out only once.
The Dogs were a little crazy, but good. Lots of laughter, lots of fun, lots of drunkeness, and I didn't even take my shirt off, this time! (Yes, the last house party I had, I did.)
Woo!
Jun. 29th, 2005 @ 01:32 pm
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| » IT'S A PARTY! |
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Come One, Come All!
It's a Housewarming Party! Maggie and Monica just moved into this ADORABLE house, and in spite of sick dogs and trips to Hawaii and God knows what else, we're having a party! Come see our torquoise kitchen, and our red party bathroom, and our very long mudroom...and our teeny-tiny little bedrooms! Come see our huge backyard! There will probably be food (there may even be Barbequeing, if we can get our act together, and by "we" I mean "me") but there will definitely be liquor. And people, and colorful rooms. Our backyard is completely fenced--dogs welcome, if they won't cause a ruckus. Come one, come all, and if you know cool people, bring them too! Hope to see you there!
Notice there's no address on here...that's intentional. If you want to come, tell me in the comments! I'll post my address in friends-only! Or email you! And I'm super excited! I have a housewarming party in a little more than 24 hours! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
For pictures of my house with boxes, see http://everydayfeminism.blogspot.com. Then mentally add a kajillion boxes to that. I came home from work yesterday to discover that Monica had moved in while I was gone (yes, we scheduled the house party two days after Monica was going to move in...so?) and then calculate the amount of furniture Monica and I shifted last night.
That's A LOT. Think we can't do it? Oh yes we can. Come to our party.
Jun. 24th, 2005 @ 01:32 pm
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| » Procrastination = Me!Me! |
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ramblin' girl (or, as those of us in "the know" like to call her, RG) has officially tagged me with the following, and as I worked super hard yesterday and am therefore casting around for things to do today...what could be a better time than this? (Note: do not believe for one second that I worked too hard to read the brand spankin' newly updated Best of Craigslist yesterday.)
Pick 5 of the following questions and then complete the sentences.
If I could be a scientist?
If I could be a farmer?
If I could be a musician?
If I could be a doctor?
If I could be a painter?
If I could be a gardener?
If I could be a missionary?
If I could be a chef?
If I could be an architect?
If I could be a linguist?
If I could be a psychologist?
If I could be a librarian?
If I could be an athlete?
If I could be a lawyer?
If I could be an inn-keeper?
If I could be a professor?
If I could be a writer?
If I could be a llama-rider?
If I could be a bonnie pirate?
If I could be an astronaut?
If I could be a world famous blogger?
If I could be a justice on any one court in the world?
If I could be married to any current famous political figure?
In no particular order, here are my choices:
If I could be a bonnie pirate, I'd wear Anne Bonny perfume, drink spiced rum, dye my hair red, and get lots of ink, which would go nicely over my pirate tan. I'd sail to the South and attack cruise ships, dispatching all the squabbling fat-cat guests to the bottom of the ocean and pressing one cute boy from each ship into my sevice--probably from the wait staff. The rest of the staff (hey, I have a soft spot in my hear for service staff) would be paid a little something and left on the nearest island.
If I could be a world famous blogger, I'd die happy.
If I could be married to any current famous political figure, I'd be married to Dubya (really!) and undermine him from within. Can you imagine what a really evil woman could do as the First Lady? I'd sleep with the vice president and all the Senate, pit the Republican party leads against one another, make them fight duels, get the president thrown out of office and make the entire party implode.
If I could be a librarian, I'd fight for free speech, start aggressive reading programs, secretly pass out revolutionary material to liberals, allow revolutionary elements of all kinds to meet in the library, and start a propaganda war against Bush from which he would never recover.
If I could be a doctor, I'd work in impoverished countries with kids--I'd try to keep them well and fed, try to give them a better life, and hope they do good things with it.
Whew! Good thing I'm slacking off today.
Jun. 24th, 2005 @ 01:31 pm
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| » Perhaps I shouldn't go shooting my mouth off |
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Perhaps I should keep my mouth shut when I'm on the rag and have had a very stressful week at work and someone whom I care about asks me, "So, I'm thinking about...(insert big life change here)...what do you think?"
Perhaps I shouldn't actually tell them, in words of one syllable, what I think about them and all their faults. Perhaps I should allow myself to first leave the grasp of insanity and THEN answer, saying, "I want you to know how much I care about you, both as person and one of the greatest friends I have ever known, and whatever decision you make, I'll support you, because you've been one of the most influencing people on my personal history that I have ever known, and I owe you a debt I probably can't repay. Oh, and you might want to change (this slightly annoying characteristic) about you."
This would have been infinitely more appropriate than spitting fire. :(
Jun. 24th, 2005 @ 01:20 pm
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| » Titan did NOT get better right away... |
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And I was a basket case, during which my boyfriend was not the most supportive of people. Thursday night, as I'm watching my dog throw up every hour, he calls: "I really want you to come over! Titan will be fine by himself for an hour or two! I'd just leave him in the backyard with all the food he can eat and let him puke it out of his system. But I admit that I don't know anything about dogs and it's probably not very good advice." I resisted the urge to insult him, reminding myself that I was tired and stressed and emotionally twisted.
The interesting thing is that I really didn't WANT a lot of support. At other, similar, times in my life, I've been all about being on the phone constantly, crying on other people's shoulders. This time, not so much. I called my two close friends who also have dogs--Jess, and Rachel--and they comforted me over the phone. (Jess brought over cooked rice in case Titan could hold food down! Awwwww...) And that was helpful. But beyond them--I didn't feel like outpouring to others, I felt like drawing inside myself and spending all the energy I had on my dog.
Friday he got worse and worse, not even being able to hold down ice cubes, and finally at 2:00 pm I took him into the vet's office for IVs, worried I'd never see him again. Then a second interesting thing happened: I picked up the phone to call my boyfriend and really didn't want to talk to him; I didn't think he would care and I didn't want to hear him pretending support just because he thought he should.
So I called an Ex instead, who I hadn't talked to for almost a year, and who had just begun text messaging me a few days before, and we talked for half an hour while I drank a cup of coffee, sitting in my Jeep with the doors open in the sunshine in the vet's office parking lot. Very calming.
I head up to Seattle, because I have to go meet a guy to tutor him. He's an adult, which I don't find particularly funny--he's studying for the GREs to go back to grad school, more power to him--except that I'd forgotten how much harder it is to tutor adults than children! ARGH! As a child, I hated asking for help--I wanted to pretend to myself and others that I knew everything already. This adult guy, C, at least doesn't have that--he's probably twice my age at least; plently old enough to know what he doesn't know. The problem is, he's very exactly sure of WHAT he doesn't know. He didn't give me a chance to talk at all--he had very specific ideas of what he wanted to do, and what he didn't want to do, and how he wanted me to spend my time--that's great, but honey, I'M the tutor. I know more about math (his subject of need, why is that always the case?) than he ever will, and he's trying to tell me how to do my job! Adults are like that--he's hiring a specialist, and he wants to get the most for his money by telling his specialist exactly what do to. Would he hire an interior decorator, or a heart surgeon, and then tell them exactly what furniture he wanted where, and how many valves he wanted replaced? (Actually, now that I've spent some time with this guy, I think he probably would.)
No matter. I swallow my pride and move on to meet my girl Shrewsbury at The Melting Pot, which has a great early happy hour, and on the way the vet calls and says they want to keep Titan overnight for more IV re-hydration, which is actually a big load off my shoulders--I know they can give him better care than I can, and once he's already at the vet's office, the trauma of being there is done--he might as well stay until he's 100% better. Rolling home after two glasses of wine, I send good thoughts to my dog and head over to the boy's house, where we talk about nothing that is bothering me (sigh) and then to a house party, where I see tons of people I went to elementary school AND middle school AND highchool with. God love you, Tacoma.
This morning I got Titan home and he seems to be doing fine--he's eaten twice, now, and is holding his food down just fine! YAY!!!!!
Thank you, everyone, for your good wishes. I love you all.
Jun. 11th, 2005 @ 01:29 pm
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| » Notes to Self |
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A piece of sushi rolled under your car seat yesterday after it jumped out of your hands while you were driving like a maniac because you were late to an appointment, which you were too late to make and the receptionist yelled at you, AND trying to eat (remember how you cursed and screamed, because you love that sushi roll?) and it's still there. Pick it up before it spawns a whole colony of Snakeheads, or something, and you're eaten alive in 15 seconds flat.
And now, back to our regularly scheduled program!
Titan is sick. Sick-to-his-stomach sick. (Let me tell you what a pleasant sight THAT is to come home to after a long day, see above.) And, worse, he's drooping around all mopey and uncoordinated--I'm worried! Or, I would be, if I wasn't under such bone-crushing, brain-liquifying stress at the office that I can't think about anything else except coffee and the cheap (3.50) bottle of wine waiting for me at home. I called the vet's office and they recommended I take him in, and he's due for his shots anyway. This happened once before, a year ago, and I put him on a starvation diet for 24 hours and started him on bland food, which he enjoyed--it's people food!--and then he was fine. I'm hoping the same thing will happen here--but at the same time, he's seven now, and he's a German Shepherd--he's not a long-lived dog. My last dog went from fine to cancerous and having to be put down inside two weeks--very sudden--so I'm worried about that possibility. But odds are that he's fine, and I'll get to walk him and love him when I come home tonight. Sigh. What a cutie.
And The World Against Me is right: EVERYONE who powers blogger needs this shirt. I already have it. Boo-yah. (However, I also agree with TWAM that everything on this site is cool and worth buying, especially ALL of the CUBE GOODIES! I would have the best-decorated cube in town!
And speaking of that, who wants to build their own office cube? The Cubes are awesome!
And one more note to self: it would figure that the one day you decide not to stop for coffee on your way to the office in a burst of self-righteousness and responsibility, figuring that you might as well wait for the free coffee at the office than get a cup of coffee for 1.75 at Starbucks, even though the drive is 45 minutes and it would sure help to get those brain waves going...and because you want to be at the office early...
...well, that would be the one day when there's an accident on the freeway and it takes you ONE AND A HALF FREAKIN' HOURS to go 25 miles. AND you've forgotten the lunch you carefully packed for yourself, which includes half a sandwich, two string cheeses, a salad, and JUNIOR MINTS, which you were looking forward to, and so of COURSE you're forced to get off the parking lot (freeway) and pull into a McDonald's drive thru because you're so weak from hunger you can barely drive, and what's a girl to do?
On the plus side, I successfully avoided sugary coffee. And two days ago I bought lovely knickers, as Belle Du Jour would say. (Google her--I'm at work!)
Jun. 9th, 2005 @ 01:27 pm
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| » I'd like to thank this blog... |
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And indeed all blogs, for connecting me to the human experience and making me fully aware that the injuries and indignities I suffer are just part and parcel of the human experience, and so therefore, I should NOT obsess about them, but simply treat them as pimples on the ass cheek of life and travel on my merry way.
Because this morning, when I was not quite awake and I stepped in to my shower, left foot first this time, it slipped sideways down the tub, I simply blocked my slide with my right shin, felt the sharp pain of the tub edge meeting the middle of my shin, thought, "Heh...I've read stories in SheWalks' blog MUCH worse than this!"...and went on with my shower. No slowing down, no crying and rubbing the shin, nothing!
So, question of the day is: does the navel gazing that is blogging actually make you LESS self-obsessed, not more? By forcing you to realize that there are other people out there?
And am I a very strange person because my second thought after "OW!" was "Hey, I can put this in my blog!"?
Jun. 9th, 2005 @ 12:41 pm
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| » I'm posting a ton in other people's blogs... |
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So, as an alternative to thinking up new things to say here, I'll simply cut-and-paste. Because laziness is the key to...um...repetition?
How I Practically Busted Off My Own Butt:
Just a few short weeks ago, I came back from kickboxing exhausted and not fully in control of my leg muscles, and my parents' shower is always kind of slidy, so when I stepped into the shower with my right leg first (because I'm right-handed) it slid out from under me immediately, and because I had no reaction time whatsoever (since my muscles resembled jelly) I forgoed anything like flailing or grabbing the shower curtain rail, and simply sat down, very hard, on both the edge of the tub AND the washcloth rack IN the tub. You know how you get a bump on your head when you hit it? I actually had a bump on my ASS. (You couldn't see it, thanks to fat, but you could feel it, as my boyfriend discovered.) The bruise was less like a bruise and looked more like a blue flesh-eating virus had attacked my entire left ass cheek, with concentrations of black and red in the center. Once again, thank God for fat--I would have cracked my tailbone.
My New Addiction:
Okay, so I had some Starbucks today, so sue me. The two places that sell the Liquid Crack that is MarketSpice Tea in Tacoma aren't open early enough to serve me--I'll have to buy some! (Damn, more shopping.) So I had Starbucks this morning, instead, but I didn't have Starbucks for FOUR out of SEVEN days last week. For me, that's incredible.
But back to MarketSpice Tea. Liquid Crack, I tell you. It's wonderful, amazing stuff, with or without a tad bit of honey for sweetener. The two places that sell it close by, which everyone in Tacoma should visit: The Mandolin Cafe, which is about 100 times more incredible than it looks on their rather amateur website, and the Shakabrah Cafe, which is totally incredible and has no website. (This is what I love about Tacoma. Although I love the Internet more than I love air, even I can recognize the coolness of these places, which are SO COOL in real life that they don't even need a website. They don't even want one. They have no need to prove to Seattle-ites how cool they are, because everyone who needs to know, knows. That's just how cool they are.)
Sigh. MarketSpice Tea. I could really use some of that. But until that happens...I'll make do with my rather flavorless Stash "Premium" Green Tea. Right. Stash. (Okay, Stash isn't that bad, but they aren't as good as MarketSpice. For those of you who are confused, MarketSpice is both the name of a Seattle Tea Company, based in Pike Place Market since 1911, and the name of that company's signature tea. They also make many other kinds of tea. All of which are completely awesome.)
Jun. 6th, 2005 @ 12:49 pm
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| » Has anyone ever noticed that suits have a smell? |
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Suits, as in, the fancy business dress that you wear. I'm sitting in a hotel room in a CASINO in UPSTATE NEW YORK (capitals emphasize things I DON'T like) and am sprawled out one of my huge beds, and for a second I swore I could smell my mother.
It's hot here in Syracuse, and I smelled hot polyester shirts and hot wool suits and my mother's skin, like she used to smell when she picked me up from school, the car smelling like warm skin and her pantyhose tossed off and crumpled up in the back seat, her shirt wrinkled in the back where it'd been creased from her sitting all day, and her jacket hanging carefully over the back of the car seat. I smelled all that.
And then I realized that my nose was against my own legs (shut UP, I get in weird positions to type) and that my warm polyester shirt had been tossed on the bed not far from me, and my legs smelled like, yes, warm polyester, and lotion--of course, since I'm my mother's daughter, it's the same kind of lotion my mom uses. I wasn't smelling my mother, I was smelling myself!
In other news: has anyone noticed that casinos have the absolute WORST food on the PLANET??? I'm so hungry that my stomach growls are audible 12 floors down, in the casino, over the noise of the slots, and even with this incentive not ONE thing on the menu looks good. Of course, I'm going off the room service menu, and I'm in UPSTATE NEW YORK--there ain't nothin' here, y'all, except golf courses. I wanted to take a walk around the grounds yesterday--because this Casino And Connected Buildings Resort is HUGE and has NINE GOLF COURSES, or some such ridiculousness. I mean, this resort complex covers half of the state. (Probably.) So would it be so unusual to ask if, on this rather large slice of paradise, there might somewhere be a nature trail?
If you're thinking, 'Obviously not', you're not good at reading comprehension. Apparently there IS something DRASTICALLY wrong with asking if there's a nature trail. The girls behind the desk at the Health Club (and, y'all, I am not skinny at all, but I was skinner than either of these girls--behind the desk at the HEALTH CLUB) looked at me like I was a crazy person.
"A what?"
"A nature trail, you know, or anything besides the concrete paths that lead to and from the damn parking lot?" (And I'd like you all to know that I'm not joking when I say there are shuttles. Yes, shuttles, to ferry people who are too sick to walk the few blocks between the parking lot and the casino--because god forbid they not get to the casino.)
"Uh...we've got...golf courses..."
Right. So I went out and walked the golf courses, and it was lovely, and I didn't see a single damn soul for an hour. I ran the sand traps, because they were the only hills I could find in Super-Flat Upstate New York. Yes, I did. Shut UP. And I didn't rake them down after myself either. (Although, in my defense, I had no idea you were supposed to. I saw the rakes, but I assumed they had been left there accidentally by the groundskeepers.)
I have decided on the mozzarella sticks and the chicken tenders, both appetizers. I figure they come frozen and the casino kitchen can't screw them up TOO badly. No, I don't want to leave my room--I've been on my feet in stilettos all day at a business exposition (thank you, B-----) and I'm sitting still in the air conditioning. Thank you.
Jun. 3rd, 2005 @ 12:44 pm
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