When your child calls you at work hysterical in tears, you know you've got problems.
It seems rather than a pleasant ride home on the big yellow bus tonight, KC's journey took an unexpected turn when she was inadvertently mistaken as a human punching bag.
After a quick synopsis of what transpired, I immediately dialed the digits to her school.
The bully in question is evidently a known offender. At the mere mention of the boys name, the vice principal paused slightly, before following it with a very telling "Ah ..."
"I see you're familiar with this boys rap sheet," I wanted to say in a snarly tone, "What kind of heathens do you allow to ride the bus home?"
But I held my tongue and listened as he explained to me that he would do everything in his power to find out exactly what happened and bring the little perpetrator to justice.
But the whole incident brought up a question as I was driving home from work.
Despite my usual pacifist beliefs, I don't know how I feel about educating my child not to fight back when the situation calls for it. Which is not to say that I'd recommend that she pop the boy a good one in the kisser. All I'm saying is that I don't want my daughter growing up thinking that standing up for yourself and fighting back is wrong in every contex.
If you don't fight for yourself, no one else will.
So I Am
Phone the press! I am out of hot chocolate ...
One would think that I would have remembered that significant little fact as I was standing in the middle of the grocery store this evening, my arms full to bursting with every beat back a cold product known to man.
Perhaps it was my excitement over the Vicks Vaporub being on sale that caused me to lose sight of my focus. Or perhaps it was the fact that I couldn't feel my toes since - as usual - the ignorant plow guy has opted for the non-plow job, regardless that over a foot and a half of snow has fallen within the past 24 hours. Can you say wet shoes, wet toes?
I know I shouldn't, but I hope he stubs his own bare toasty toes on something really hard and sharp in the very near future.
But I digress ...
I think I realized at some point this morning, that I had completely lost my mind last night. Don't get too excited and think I am going to explain myself on that one, when being cryptic is one of the things I do best. Let's just say that I think now would be a good time to remember how to breathe ... Just breathe.
For those of you who had the pleasure of speaking to me on the phone during the evening of my despair, let me offer my sincerest apologies for being a complete whack job, aka bitch. God created answering machines for a reason. This I have to believe is true.
In other news, I am sore as hell today. Being the literature guru that I am at work, the time finally came for me to actually have to put some of it away. You'd think a girl could get some help, but I tell you chivalry is not alive and well, it's deader than a doornail on a backwoods country door.
However let it not be said that I don't possess a fair amount of girl charm when a situation calls for a tender touch. Within 5 minutes, Doug from next door was my bitch on wheels. But despite the team effort, I handled the next hour on my own ripping open boxes, putting the literature away, making catalogs, and then cleaning up the mess that everyone else had made in the backroom before me.
Still it was nice to have a feeling of accomplishment. It was even nicer to spend the rest of the day looking much busier than I was.
One would think that I would have remembered that significant little fact as I was standing in the middle of the grocery store this evening, my arms full to bursting with every beat back a cold product known to man.
Perhaps it was my excitement over the Vicks Vaporub being on sale that caused me to lose sight of my focus. Or perhaps it was the fact that I couldn't feel my toes since - as usual - the ignorant plow guy has opted for the non-plow job, regardless that over a foot and a half of snow has fallen within the past 24 hours. Can you say wet shoes, wet toes?
I know I shouldn't, but I hope he stubs his own bare toasty toes on something really hard and sharp in the very near future.
But I digress ...
I think I realized at some point this morning, that I had completely lost my mind last night. Don't get too excited and think I am going to explain myself on that one, when being cryptic is one of the things I do best. Let's just say that I think now would be a good time to remember how to breathe ... Just breathe.
For those of you who had the pleasure of speaking to me on the phone during the evening of my despair, let me offer my sincerest apologies for being a complete whack job, aka bitch. God created answering machines for a reason. This I have to believe is true.
In other news, I am sore as hell today. Being the literature guru that I am at work, the time finally came for me to actually have to put some of it away. You'd think a girl could get some help, but I tell you chivalry is not alive and well, it's deader than a doornail on a backwoods country door.
However let it not be said that I don't possess a fair amount of girl charm when a situation calls for a tender touch. Within 5 minutes, Doug from next door was my bitch on wheels. But despite the team effort, I handled the next hour on my own ripping open boxes, putting the literature away, making catalogs, and then cleaning up the mess that everyone else had made in the backroom before me.
Still it was nice to have a feeling of accomplishment. It was even nicer to spend the rest of the day looking much busier than I was.
Happy Bday to the Blog
Ahhh ... It seems like it was only yesterday I was posting my very first entry on the blog.
I'd like to think it has been an interesting year, but then again, those of us who have reread the archives know better.
So Happy Birthday NWTLO. Here's to another year of too much information.
I'd like to think it has been an interesting year, but then again, those of us who have reread the archives know better.
So Happy Birthday NWTLO. Here's to another year of too much information.
Sticks and Stones
How come no one ever asks me if I want to go to Home Depot?
So what I don't own my own home! I like to window shop occassionally. I'm all for taking in the ambience, checking paint colors and pretending like I have a clue when it comes to power tools. But no one ever asks me if I want to go!
I am not the redheaded stepchild dammit ... I'm not!
So what I don't own my own home! I like to window shop occassionally. I'm all for taking in the ambience, checking paint colors and pretending like I have a clue when it comes to power tools. But no one ever asks me if I want to go!
I am not the redheaded stepchild dammit ... I'm not!
A Penny For My Thoughts
The White Jelly Bean has let me down.
Outside in the driveway she sits quiet, covered with a fresh blanket of snow, refusing to begrudge me even the smallest look of shame for her apt refusal to start this morning when I turned the key in the ignition.
"You should have put in dry gas like I told you," said my sister Amy over the phone. "Give me a little bit and I'll be over."
Sometimes - though few and far between - there are moments when I should heed the advice of my family without question.
But now I wait.
Wait for the dry gas to work, wait to take my sister's loaner car back to her tonight, and wait for something to make sense even as it becomes more and more confusing.
If only I weren't so skilled at second guessing myself on a daily basis.
Thoughts, ideas, comments? Leave them on the blog ...
Outside in the driveway she sits quiet, covered with a fresh blanket of snow, refusing to begrudge me even the smallest look of shame for her apt refusal to start this morning when I turned the key in the ignition.
"You should have put in dry gas like I told you," said my sister Amy over the phone. "Give me a little bit and I'll be over."
Sometimes - though few and far between - there are moments when I should heed the advice of my family without question.
But now I wait.
Wait for the dry gas to work, wait to take my sister's loaner car back to her tonight, and wait for something to make sense even as it becomes more and more confusing.
If only I weren't so skilled at second guessing myself on a daily basis.
Thoughts, ideas, comments? Leave them on the blog ...
A Little Fresh Air
KC and I are treating ourselves to breakfast on the town this morning. See you later cabin fever.
Caller ID - How To Make Yourself More Annoying in One Easy Step
I'm still agitated over a phone call I got last night from the parent of one of KC's friends. It seems - and it does appear that this man may not be playing with a full deck - that someone in the upstate area rang his house a total of two times last evening and this gentleman through the powers of deductive reasoning - and because he knows that when KC calls his daughter it comes up as "PRIVATE" - decided he could automatically assume that the prank phone calls were eminating from my house. (And don't we all know the lovely little saying about what happens when you assume.)
Now for a moment, let's consider the word PRIVATE, and for all intents and purposes let's also try to imagine the amount of people who despise CallerID for the annoying telephone tool that it really is. I mean can you realistically come up with a number in your head for the millions of people who have opted - as I have - to make their number private rather than deal with the obsessive complusive I got to know who is calling me before I'll pick up my phone dependent kind of people.
But I wasn't in the mood last night to be either polite or friendly about it at all. I didn't like his tone. Let me say that again. I didn't like his tone one damn bit. Condescending and snide being the two adjectives that best sum up his voice as he explained why it must have been KC calling his house.
Now don't get me wrong, if KC had been guilty of the crime, I would have apologized to this gentleman and taken the necessary steps to correct the problem. However, the time frame that he was insisting on receiving these phone calls from my house, was absolutely impossible. I was on the phone talking with Sean.
But Father of the Year was still unconvinced. Hence the reason my agitation was close to being out of control for the duration of our conversation.
"Sir," I said interrupting him for the upteenth time, "It's absolutely impossible that it was KC pranking your house."
"But the number came up priv ..."
"And I only have one phone line, which I was on, and therefore it couldn't have been anyone here dialing you up." I said, my voice firm. "You know there are a lot of people out there who have private numbers, and there's no way to know what private number called you. So seeing that I've told you now that I was on the phone myself, you must conclude that some other private number is indeed the number that hung up on you and your wife. Have a pleasant evening. Goodbye."
God I hate stupid people!
Now for a moment, let's consider the word PRIVATE, and for all intents and purposes let's also try to imagine the amount of people who despise CallerID for the annoying telephone tool that it really is. I mean can you realistically come up with a number in your head for the millions of people who have opted - as I have - to make their number private rather than deal with the obsessive complusive I got to know who is calling me before I'll pick up my phone dependent kind of people.
But I wasn't in the mood last night to be either polite or friendly about it at all. I didn't like his tone. Let me say that again. I didn't like his tone one damn bit. Condescending and snide being the two adjectives that best sum up his voice as he explained why it must have been KC calling his house.
Now don't get me wrong, if KC had been guilty of the crime, I would have apologized to this gentleman and taken the necessary steps to correct the problem. However, the time frame that he was insisting on receiving these phone calls from my house, was absolutely impossible. I was on the phone talking with Sean.
But Father of the Year was still unconvinced. Hence the reason my agitation was close to being out of control for the duration of our conversation.
"Sir," I said interrupting him for the upteenth time, "It's absolutely impossible that it was KC pranking your house."
"But the number came up priv ..."
"And I only have one phone line, which I was on, and therefore it couldn't have been anyone here dialing you up." I said, my voice firm. "You know there are a lot of people out there who have private numbers, and there's no way to know what private number called you. So seeing that I've told you now that I was on the phone myself, you must conclude that some other private number is indeed the number that hung up on you and your wife. Have a pleasant evening. Goodbye."
God I hate stupid people!
I Can't Feel My Throat
I'm so sick of being sick that I want to take myself outside and smack myself around.
This is freaking ridiculous! Almost a week out now and here I am again with my throat feeling like sandpaper and my lungs near to bursting as if I haven't been on antibiotics all week! Which is not even to mention that my right ear is still plugged, so I can neither walk straight or hear most of anything without it sounding like it's 18 miles away. Where I ask is the justice in all this?
Consider my luck. I finally meet a nice guy and then suddenly I'm like a walking advertisement for SARS. A mass of dripping body fluids, unladylike flem and a cough that says back off boy I'm contagious, rather than pucker up, give me a kiss and let's see what those lips of yours can do.
It's downright disappointing. And now that I thought I was feeling better, only to be disappointed by this mornings strange turn of events, Sean himself is suffering from the chills and upon his own admission was self-medicating with a little Nyquil last night. Meanwhile, carrier of the Bubonic Plaque - of which I am - I'm feeling all sorts of guilty for getting Sean sick although he's been nice enough to tell me that I'm not the guilty culprit who did him in. Convincing except for the fact that I know my tongue was in his mouth ... Checking for cavities of course.
Could life be any more frustrating?
This is freaking ridiculous! Almost a week out now and here I am again with my throat feeling like sandpaper and my lungs near to bursting as if I haven't been on antibiotics all week! Which is not even to mention that my right ear is still plugged, so I can neither walk straight or hear most of anything without it sounding like it's 18 miles away. Where I ask is the justice in all this?
Consider my luck. I finally meet a nice guy and then suddenly I'm like a walking advertisement for SARS. A mass of dripping body fluids, unladylike flem and a cough that says back off boy I'm contagious, rather than pucker up, give me a kiss and let's see what those lips of yours can do.
It's downright disappointing. And now that I thought I was feeling better, only to be disappointed by this mornings strange turn of events, Sean himself is suffering from the chills and upon his own admission was self-medicating with a little Nyquil last night. Meanwhile, carrier of the Bubonic Plaque - of which I am - I'm feeling all sorts of guilty for getting Sean sick although he's been nice enough to tell me that I'm not the guilty culprit who did him in. Convincing except for the fact that I know my tongue was in his mouth ... Checking for cavities of course.
Could life be any more frustrating?
Should I Stay or Should I Go?
Conundrums!
The question has arrived this morning as to whether or not I am going to go to work - and this time stay there for the entire day - or let this last Friday fizzle down into a remember that week I stayed home from work last January when I got bronchitis?
I mean what is the point of going in today? It's Friday, there's more than a foot of lake effect snow piled up outside my door, more is going to fall, roads are not plowed, my driveway needs to be plowed, school's are closing, I'm nowhere near to being ready to leave in the next 30 minutes and quite frankly I am a little tired. And since it does make more sense to start fresh on a Monday rather than a Friday, I think I'll coop up at home one more day.
Ah the smell of decision making in the early morning. It's a truly wonderful thing.
The question has arrived this morning as to whether or not I am going to go to work - and this time stay there for the entire day - or let this last Friday fizzle down into a remember that week I stayed home from work last January when I got bronchitis?
I mean what is the point of going in today? It's Friday, there's more than a foot of lake effect snow piled up outside my door, more is going to fall, roads are not plowed, my driveway needs to be plowed, school's are closing, I'm nowhere near to being ready to leave in the next 30 minutes and quite frankly I am a little tired. And since it does make more sense to start fresh on a Monday rather than a Friday, I think I'll coop up at home one more day.
Ah the smell of decision making in the early morning. It's a truly wonderful thing.
Arf Arf
I'm feeling a little bloggy today. Three entries ought to be proof positive of that.
KC is in the dining room painting with her watercolors, and though I know I'm probably being the world's biggest idiot for leaving her and the carpet out there alone together, I'm trusting that everyone will come through the moment okay.
Since I still have yet to see any progress from my darling sister Audrey in the way of getting my NWTLO logo painted, I've taken it into my own somewhat artistic hands to get the job done myself. (Did I mention I have a limited amount of patience?)
Using oils, I'm sure it's going to be a while before I get the damn thing done, what with all the drying time required. But at least I can say it's started, which is much more than I can say for my little sister. (Promises, promises, sad follow through.)
Which is why I am sending her picture on to Good Morning America's You Look Like Your Dog Contest, along with all of her pertinent information.
Don't worry ... She's got a cute dog.
KC is in the dining room painting with her watercolors, and though I know I'm probably being the world's biggest idiot for leaving her and the carpet out there alone together, I'm trusting that everyone will come through the moment okay.
Since I still have yet to see any progress from my darling sister Audrey in the way of getting my NWTLO logo painted, I've taken it into my own somewhat artistic hands to get the job done myself. (Did I mention I have a limited amount of patience?)
Using oils, I'm sure it's going to be a while before I get the damn thing done, what with all the drying time required. But at least I can say it's started, which is much more than I can say for my little sister. (Promises, promises, sad follow through.)
Which is why I am sending her picture on to Good Morning America's You Look Like Your Dog Contest, along with all of her pertinent information.
Don't worry ... She's got a cute dog.
Out to Lunch
Today is turning out to be a fun day after so many days of being sick.
I just got back from having lunch with my friend Mike from work. Since I was already playing hookey - albeit with permission - Mike decided we needed to celebrate the afternoon with an I didn't get fired during this year's review luncheon. For someone who always thinks he's two seconds away from being fired, it was indeed a great way to relieve the stress of having upper management around, even if it was only for a couple of hours.
So we went down to the local bar and grill, ordered up the specials and gossiped like two little old ladies with nothing better to do on a Thursday afternoon.
But la, he has returned to work and once again I find myself bored with nothing to do. Maybe I'll dig a DVD out of my collection and relax on the couch til KC comes home.
Meanwhile I'm wondering how the weather is in Vermont ... (Insert cheesy grin here)
I just got back from having lunch with my friend Mike from work. Since I was already playing hookey - albeit with permission - Mike decided we needed to celebrate the afternoon with an I didn't get fired during this year's review luncheon. For someone who always thinks he's two seconds away from being fired, it was indeed a great way to relieve the stress of having upper management around, even if it was only for a couple of hours.
So we went down to the local bar and grill, ordered up the specials and gossiped like two little old ladies with nothing better to do on a Thursday afternoon.
But la, he has returned to work and once again I find myself bored with nothing to do. Maybe I'll dig a DVD out of my collection and relax on the couch til KC comes home.
Meanwhile I'm wondering how the weather is in Vermont ... (Insert cheesy grin here)
The Big Review
Getting out of bed this morning was difficult. A girl can get used to staying home, and sleeping in every day waking up to the sun shining on her face.
But when my alarm went off this morning, I was ready to get my day started. Eager to be up and about and on my way to work to face my yearly review.
It was like butter.
Walking into the door this morning, a container of orange juice in hand, my fellow co-workers were glad to see I was still among the living. And to be truthful, it was nice to be back in the fold with more than just myself to talk to.
"Princess," a male voice bellowed from down the hall, as I stood there grinning like an idiot.
"Mr. Vice President. It's good to see you," I responded, my voice sounding like that of a throaty bull frog.
"You look like hell Baboushka. What do you say we get your review over and done with now and let you go back home for the day?"
"I think I love you," I said smiling, following him towards my office.
"Get settled in while I grab Mark and Kevin and we'll meet you in the conference room in five."
"You got it."
(5 minutes later)
"You ready Princess?" Jack yelled from across the hall.
"On my way right now," I said opening up the door which had been barely ajar, to a sight I wasn't expecting.
There before me was my General Sales Manager, the Eastern Sales Manager and our illustrious Vice President wearing make shift paper napkins over their faces.
"Which one of you is contagious?" I asked, amused by their warped sense of humor, pretending to be shocked as they all pointed at me.
So I got my raise, got told I've been doing a good job and got sent back to bed.
You know, I'd say today isn't off to such a bad start.
But when my alarm went off this morning, I was ready to get my day started. Eager to be up and about and on my way to work to face my yearly review.
It was like butter.
Walking into the door this morning, a container of orange juice in hand, my fellow co-workers were glad to see I was still among the living. And to be truthful, it was nice to be back in the fold with more than just myself to talk to.
"Princess," a male voice bellowed from down the hall, as I stood there grinning like an idiot.
"Mr. Vice President. It's good to see you," I responded, my voice sounding like that of a throaty bull frog.
"You look like hell Baboushka. What do you say we get your review over and done with now and let you go back home for the day?"
"I think I love you," I said smiling, following him towards my office.
"Get settled in while I grab Mark and Kevin and we'll meet you in the conference room in five."
"You got it."
(5 minutes later)
"You ready Princess?" Jack yelled from across the hall.
"On my way right now," I said opening up the door which had been barely ajar, to a sight I wasn't expecting.
There before me was my General Sales Manager, the Eastern Sales Manager and our illustrious Vice President wearing make shift paper napkins over their faces.
"Which one of you is contagious?" I asked, amused by their warped sense of humor, pretending to be shocked as they all pointed at me.
So I got my raise, got told I've been doing a good job and got sent back to bed.
You know, I'd say today isn't off to such a bad start.
Time to Break the Fast
Top 5 Things I Hate About Being Sick
5. Extreme lack of cuteness.
4. Feeling guilty about calling into work.
3. Tossing and turning, watching the clock for hours before falling into a sleep which is anything but restful.
2. Hacking up a lung ... Or two.
1. The crushing belief that you are never ever going to feel better again.
I called work again this morning to let them know I wouldn't be making an appearance today. Though I sound slightly better than I have in the past couple of days, I feel nowhere near ready to spend any fair amount of time too far away from my bed. Instead, I'm going to do a little around the house, rest, do a little more, take a nap, and then see how the rest of the day decides to treat me.
I also think that I'm going to try to eat something this morning and see how that goes. I'm actually hungry, so maybe this is a good sign that I am shortly to be on the road to recovery. A blessed relief as my mood has been surly at best for the last few days to the point that I am starting to annoy myself. And it takes a lot to annoy ones self.
5. Extreme lack of cuteness.
4. Feeling guilty about calling into work.
3. Tossing and turning, watching the clock for hours before falling into a sleep which is anything but restful.
2. Hacking up a lung ... Or two.
1. The crushing belief that you are never ever going to feel better again.
I called work again this morning to let them know I wouldn't be making an appearance today. Though I sound slightly better than I have in the past couple of days, I feel nowhere near ready to spend any fair amount of time too far away from my bed. Instead, I'm going to do a little around the house, rest, do a little more, take a nap, and then see how the rest of the day decides to treat me.
I also think that I'm going to try to eat something this morning and see how that goes. I'm actually hungry, so maybe this is a good sign that I am shortly to be on the road to recovery. A blessed relief as my mood has been surly at best for the last few days to the point that I am starting to annoy myself. And it takes a lot to annoy ones self.
All In A Day's Pay
Contrary to popular belief, I have not fallen off the face of the planet, been sent on the first land mission to Mars, or joined in the democratic race to promote my own presidential campaign.
I've been home sick.
I spent most of yesterday camped out on my couch, a box of tissues by one hand, a bag of halls cough drops in the other, all the while watching TLC for too many hours that don't bear repeating, because the remote control came up missing and I wasn't about to attempt to search it out.
Cold compress on my forehead, I slept through most of the day, only getting up when it was time for another dose of medicine. But getting up was trouble. The minute I began to move, it felt like someone was shining a strobe light into my eyes and playing funky I'm going to be ill music in the background.
At one point, I thought that maybe having some lunch would help. So I went and made a bowl of soup, took two whole bites, before deciding that maybe the whole food as a necessity to live thing was overated, and pushed the plate away.
Back to the couch, I fielded various phone calls throughout the day, some from concerned friends and relatives and then - of course - the occassional telemarketer who despite my obvoius completely out of it voice decided to continue on with their speil until I not so gently slammed down the phone.
So here I am. Awake this morning though hardly feeling my best, getting KC ready for school so at least I'm assured some peace and quiet before this day is out and thinking that today just might be a good day to call my doctor. If only they could prescribe medicine right over the phone ... Here's my symptons, now give me what you got.
I've been home sick.
I spent most of yesterday camped out on my couch, a box of tissues by one hand, a bag of halls cough drops in the other, all the while watching TLC for too many hours that don't bear repeating, because the remote control came up missing and I wasn't about to attempt to search it out.
Cold compress on my forehead, I slept through most of the day, only getting up when it was time for another dose of medicine. But getting up was trouble. The minute I began to move, it felt like someone was shining a strobe light into my eyes and playing funky I'm going to be ill music in the background.
At one point, I thought that maybe having some lunch would help. So I went and made a bowl of soup, took two whole bites, before deciding that maybe the whole food as a necessity to live thing was overated, and pushed the plate away.
Back to the couch, I fielded various phone calls throughout the day, some from concerned friends and relatives and then - of course - the occassional telemarketer who despite my obvoius completely out of it voice decided to continue on with their speil until I not so gently slammed down the phone.
So here I am. Awake this morning though hardly feeling my best, getting KC ready for school so at least I'm assured some peace and quiet before this day is out and thinking that today just might be a good day to call my doctor. If only they could prescribe medicine right over the phone ... Here's my symptons, now give me what you got.
Oh What a Night
My missing gloves are no longer missing.
After scouring my house for a good 3 days, my sister Amy finally got around to telling me that on their last visit over, they accidentally grabbed my gloves on their way out.
My gloves ... My nice, insulated, fashionable black gloves that go with my nice black leather jacket and color coordinating scarf. The gloves that cost me over $30.00, for my needing to be warm with a hint of style hand fetish. The gloves that she had every intent on keeping just as long as I never figured out where it was they disappeared to. The gloves that were only returned once she learned that my poor little hands have been frozen to my steering wheel ever since the heat in my car decided to quit. Those gloves that she wanted to be her gloves but were really my gloves.
Gloves is a very stupid looking word. Gloves, gloves, gloves, gloves, cloves. Cloves? So alike and yet so different ... Who knew?
It's been one heck of a week. Suffering from office boredom, I have instituted a new bathroom tradition. Taking pen to paper, I have posted daily thoughts in the LGR (little girls room) to share my infinite knowledge with the world.
Unfortunately, the cretins I work with have taken to adding their own personalized graffiti - and I know who you are ... Cheryl, Linda, Shirley. Go get your own idea, I was there first!
I've also spent a good deal of time talking on the phone, albeit not to customers. Considering it's the very least I can do to talk Brenda through her time of unemployment, we've taken chatting to a whole new level. I now have frequent visitors to my room, attempting to listen in on our conversations.
I also beat Doug up today just for the sheer joy of smacking him around a couple of times. "I could have been a contender," was my motto. Although I think he said something along the lines of my sting being more like that of a butterfly than that of a bee. La, I could hardly care. I was just passing time.
In other news, because I know you've all been wanting the 411 on my recent trip to datingville, things are going quite well. It's hard to scoop you much more than that since he (Hi Sean!) is a visitor himself to this page. A girl cannot give all her secrets away! (But I promise, if you send money I will be a fountain of information.)
(Brooks ... How is your own search going?)
Alas dear readers, the night grows late and my brain is slowly turning to mush with thoughts of fluffy pillows and downy quilts. Until tomorrow when I bid you all good morning, this is Stacey saying goodnight.
After scouring my house for a good 3 days, my sister Amy finally got around to telling me that on their last visit over, they accidentally grabbed my gloves on their way out.
My gloves ... My nice, insulated, fashionable black gloves that go with my nice black leather jacket and color coordinating scarf. The gloves that cost me over $30.00, for my needing to be warm with a hint of style hand fetish. The gloves that she had every intent on keeping just as long as I never figured out where it was they disappeared to. The gloves that were only returned once she learned that my poor little hands have been frozen to my steering wheel ever since the heat in my car decided to quit. Those gloves that she wanted to be her gloves but were really my gloves.
Gloves is a very stupid looking word. Gloves, gloves, gloves, gloves, cloves. Cloves? So alike and yet so different ... Who knew?
It's been one heck of a week. Suffering from office boredom, I have instituted a new bathroom tradition. Taking pen to paper, I have posted daily thoughts in the LGR (little girls room) to share my infinite knowledge with the world.
Unfortunately, the cretins I work with have taken to adding their own personalized graffiti - and I know who you are ... Cheryl, Linda, Shirley. Go get your own idea, I was there first!
I've also spent a good deal of time talking on the phone, albeit not to customers. Considering it's the very least I can do to talk Brenda through her time of unemployment, we've taken chatting to a whole new level. I now have frequent visitors to my room, attempting to listen in on our conversations.
I also beat Doug up today just for the sheer joy of smacking him around a couple of times. "I could have been a contender," was my motto. Although I think he said something along the lines of my sting being more like that of a butterfly than that of a bee. La, I could hardly care. I was just passing time.
In other news, because I know you've all been wanting the 411 on my recent trip to datingville, things are going quite well. It's hard to scoop you much more than that since he (Hi Sean!) is a visitor himself to this page. A girl cannot give all her secrets away! (But I promise, if you send money I will be a fountain of information.)
(Brooks ... How is your own search going?)
Alas dear readers, the night grows late and my brain is slowly turning to mush with thoughts of fluffy pillows and downy quilts. Until tomorrow when I bid you all good morning, this is Stacey saying goodnight.
Brrrrrrrrrrr
It's too cold to write, to think, to type, to breathe. It's just too damn cold!
The pipes are freezing, my car has yet to defrost from this morning, and I can foresee a giant heating bill somewhere in my very near future.
Oh well, since I can't move to Florida, I'm going to go score a mug of hot chocolate.
Stay warm!
The pipes are freezing, my car has yet to defrost from this morning, and I can foresee a giant heating bill somewhere in my very near future.
Oh well, since I can't move to Florida, I'm going to go score a mug of hot chocolate.
Stay warm!
Dinner and a Movie
Ugh ...
Another Monday has come back round to rear its ugly head and I'm barely ready to get this day started, let alone a full week of being productive as promised. If anyone were to ask me my opinion at this very moment, crawling back into bed would be high on my list of things to do.
I actually slept well last night, despite dreaming of baby black panthers, the house on Eastwood Drive, and KC behaving as if she were Linda Blair. I shudder to think what my subconscious is thinking.
For those of you still wondering - and who did not plague me with phone calls this weekend - Saturday night went well. In fact, it went very well indeed. So well, that I've invited him over for a homemade Italian dinner tonight. I'm thinking Chicken Riggies.
Anyhoo ... I am to work.
Another Monday has come back round to rear its ugly head and I'm barely ready to get this day started, let alone a full week of being productive as promised. If anyone were to ask me my opinion at this very moment, crawling back into bed would be high on my list of things to do.
I actually slept well last night, despite dreaming of baby black panthers, the house on Eastwood Drive, and KC behaving as if she were Linda Blair. I shudder to think what my subconscious is thinking.
For those of you still wondering - and who did not plague me with phone calls this weekend - Saturday night went well. In fact, it went very well indeed. So well, that I've invited him over for a homemade Italian dinner tonight. I'm thinking Chicken Riggies.
Anyhoo ... I am to work.
Nerves of Steel
Could any other title be farther from the truth?
I'm sitting here, feeling completely on edge, waiting. Just waiting. Not patiently waiting mind you, but anxiously waiting to get this night started.
I am a complete bundle of nerves. There is electricity in my veins.
Sean is on his way over, and in exactly 25 minutes or so, he is going to be here, knocking on my door, to take me out for the evening.
I am going to puke. I hate going on the very first date.
Maybe I should go have a glass of wine to calm my nerves, or just hold my breath until I start to feel light headed. I wish someone could hold my hand and come with me.
It's going to be fine. Everything's going to be fine. Just one foot in front of the other and we're off and running.
I'm sitting here, feeling completely on edge, waiting. Just waiting. Not patiently waiting mind you, but anxiously waiting to get this night started.
I am a complete bundle of nerves. There is electricity in my veins.
Sean is on his way over, and in exactly 25 minutes or so, he is going to be here, knocking on my door, to take me out for the evening.
I am going to puke. I hate going on the very first date.
Maybe I should go have a glass of wine to calm my nerves, or just hold my breath until I start to feel light headed. I wish someone could hold my hand and come with me.
It's going to be fine. Everything's going to be fine. Just one foot in front of the other and we're off and running.
Sudden Unemployment
Brenda called last night to share her latest news, which in no way could be considered good news. It seems she was called into the HR department at her office Tuesday, and without so much as a how do you do, they canned her just like that for reasons that are shaky at best.
Bren however seems to be taking this well despite having 6 years in with this company, and is trying to remain positive in the face of adversity. Personally, I don't think I would have handled it quite so well.
So I'm thinking about surprising her at some point this weekend with a small impromptu, just got fired party for two.
If a best friend can't help you celebrate getting fired, then what good are they for?
Happy Friday!
Bren however seems to be taking this well despite having 6 years in with this company, and is trying to remain positive in the face of adversity. Personally, I don't think I would have handled it quite so well.
So I'm thinking about surprising her at some point this weekend with a small impromptu, just got fired party for two.
If a best friend can't help you celebrate getting fired, then what good are they for?
Happy Friday!
A Little Bird Told Me
Words have been pretty tight around the blog this week. I can't remember another time when I was finding it so hard to think of something to say.
So I've been all about filler. Just posting something long enough to make it look as if it's writing as usual on NWTLO. Quality of content however, is not guaranteed.
But interesting things have been happening. In fact, this week -despite the watching paint dry boredom in the office - it has been progressing very well. So well that people have been commenting on my chipper morning demeanor. Hmmmm ... Never thought I would be accused of that.
So does it come as any big surprise that I have a secret? Or that that secret should have a name?
I told him I wasn't going to mention him on the blog but since I didn't say his name was Sean, I think I'll be doing okay. Woops, I think I just gave the goose away.
Let it be known however, that this Sean is absolutely no relation to the previous "30 seconds Sean, King of Inflatable Dolls" that I wrote about back in December. That Sean just happens to be one of my favorite idiots to pal around with when he's visiting NY.
But as the hour grows late, and my hopes for arriving to work on time have all but run out, I am off for another day of fun and surprises.
Think happy thoughts.
So I've been all about filler. Just posting something long enough to make it look as if it's writing as usual on NWTLO. Quality of content however, is not guaranteed.
But interesting things have been happening. In fact, this week -despite the watching paint dry boredom in the office - it has been progressing very well. So well that people have been commenting on my chipper morning demeanor. Hmmmm ... Never thought I would be accused of that.
So does it come as any big surprise that I have a secret? Or that that secret should have a name?
I told him I wasn't going to mention him on the blog but since I didn't say his name was Sean, I think I'll be doing okay. Woops, I think I just gave the goose away.
Let it be known however, that this Sean is absolutely no relation to the previous "30 seconds Sean, King of Inflatable Dolls" that I wrote about back in December. That Sean just happens to be one of my favorite idiots to pal around with when he's visiting NY.
But as the hour grows late, and my hopes for arriving to work on time have all but run out, I am off for another day of fun and surprises.
Think happy thoughts.
A Promise Is a Promise
Well I said I would so here it is ... The all about me that Match.com has come to know.
For Christmas my sister decided to find me a man. Yeah, I know how that sounds but it's all true. It seems she thinks that since I've been out of the dating pool for so long, I needed a friendly shove to get back in. OK ... Maybe a full blown push.
But now that I'm here, I might as well make the most out of an odd situation and tell you more about me. I'm wonderful.
Now that we've gotten that out of the way, I bet you're just dying to send me a message and introduce yourself. After all, it's not everyday you run into a witty, self assured independent, 2 french fries short of genius, sarcastic, well rounded woman with a sense of humor that often makes people cry. (Did I mention they were tears of joy?)
So write me.
There it is, an invitation to you (the reader) from me (the poster) to see if sparks will fly, making ours a true love connection. I can't wait to tell our grandchildren how we met.
Talk soon.
Notice I made no mention of owning a cat.
Until tomorrow duckies, may the force be with you.
For Christmas my sister decided to find me a man. Yeah, I know how that sounds but it's all true. It seems she thinks that since I've been out of the dating pool for so long, I needed a friendly shove to get back in. OK ... Maybe a full blown push.
But now that I'm here, I might as well make the most out of an odd situation and tell you more about me. I'm wonderful.
Now that we've gotten that out of the way, I bet you're just dying to send me a message and introduce yourself. After all, it's not everyday you run into a witty, self assured independent, 2 french fries short of genius, sarcastic, well rounded woman with a sense of humor that often makes people cry. (Did I mention they were tears of joy?)
So write me.
There it is, an invitation to you (the reader) from me (the poster) to see if sparks will fly, making ours a true love connection. I can't wait to tell our grandchildren how we met.
Talk soon.
Notice I made no mention of owning a cat.
Until tomorrow duckies, may the force be with you.
To My Daughter With Love on Her Birthday
Eight years ago today, I waited - not so patiently - in a hospital room for my daughter to make her way into this world.
It was quite the journey.
Back then I was still pretty young and didn't have a clue about what it takes to be a Mom, still under the impression that happily ever after would just fall into place once the baby was born. Thinking that parenthood was going to be a slice of cake, I wore my rose colored glasses for the full 9 months of my pregnancy.
But thinking about having a child, and having a child are two very different things. When you bring that precious bundle of joy home, you suddenly realize the overwhelming responsibility you've been given. She's all yours and you are all hers, and there's no going back to easier carefree times.
You give up a lot to become a parent.
You change to become what your child needs, and her needs always come before yours. But you do it, because you could give her no less than everything you are.
You love her without conditions. You'd go to the ends of the earth just to see her smile. You'd fly her to the moon if that's what she said she wanted. You protect her with your life, swearing that for as long as you are alive, no harm will ever come to your daughter. And when she laughs, it's all the payment you'll ever need.
Happy Birthday my darling girl. A million stars burning brightly in the sky, could never compare to you.
Love, Mom
It was quite the journey.
Back then I was still pretty young and didn't have a clue about what it takes to be a Mom, still under the impression that happily ever after would just fall into place once the baby was born. Thinking that parenthood was going to be a slice of cake, I wore my rose colored glasses for the full 9 months of my pregnancy.
But thinking about having a child, and having a child are two very different things. When you bring that precious bundle of joy home, you suddenly realize the overwhelming responsibility you've been given. She's all yours and you are all hers, and there's no going back to easier carefree times.
You give up a lot to become a parent.
You change to become what your child needs, and her needs always come before yours. But you do it, because you could give her no less than everything you are.
You love her without conditions. You'd go to the ends of the earth just to see her smile. You'd fly her to the moon if that's what she said she wanted. You protect her with your life, swearing that for as long as you are alive, no harm will ever come to your daughter. And when she laughs, it's all the payment you'll ever need.
Happy Birthday my darling girl. A million stars burning brightly in the sky, could never compare to you.
Love, Mom
David Letterman in the House
Top 5 Christmas presents I regret getting KC for Christmas:
5. Personalized purse ... She swings, she hits, she breaks.
4. Clay ... Every night is craft night.
3. Simon ... Loud, annoying and no shut off button.
2. Paint ... "Mommy. Can I paint tonight? Huh? Can I? Can I?"
And the number one most regretted Christmas present ...
1. Bratz camera ... Where there's not a single picture worth a thousand words.
Until later all ... I'm about to go bake cupcakes. Woo Hoo.
5. Personalized purse ... She swings, she hits, she breaks.
4. Clay ... Every night is craft night.
3. Simon ... Loud, annoying and no shut off button.
2. Paint ... "Mommy. Can I paint tonight? Huh? Can I? Can I?"
And the number one most regretted Christmas present ...
1. Bratz camera ... Where there's not a single picture worth a thousand words.
Until later all ... I'm about to go bake cupcakes. Woo Hoo.
House Pets
The Squigster has recovered.
No more red fin, no more internal bleeding, no more sleepless nights watching the tank for signs of distress. Everything's going to be A-OK. Which is quite a relief, since flushing Squiggy down the toilet was never an option, which of course would have put a total kibosh on the septic system.
But now my thumb is throbbing.
Emma chomped on it something fierce last night as I was feeding her kitty treats. All in all, it was really my fault because I was trying to get her to do pet tricks, even though she wasn't the least bit amused by dancing for her supper. Emma however has been suffering from twinges of guilt ever since. She's spent most of today following me around the house being all lovey dovey to express her apologies.
But I wouldn't have guessed how much a bite from a cat could hurt.
It was excruciating pain ... A lot of it. She managed to pierce through my skin in two spots, as well as crush the top of my nail with her killer bite. Which all in all, made me consider two things:
(1) There is no way in hell I would ever willingly stick my head into a tigers mouth.
and
(2) If a small little cat could inflect such a terrible amount of pain, I absolutely recede my resolution to swim with sharks for something a little less prone to eating man. Perhaps goldfish are the better choice.
No more red fin, no more internal bleeding, no more sleepless nights watching the tank for signs of distress. Everything's going to be A-OK. Which is quite a relief, since flushing Squiggy down the toilet was never an option, which of course would have put a total kibosh on the septic system.
But now my thumb is throbbing.
Emma chomped on it something fierce last night as I was feeding her kitty treats. All in all, it was really my fault because I was trying to get her to do pet tricks, even though she wasn't the least bit amused by dancing for her supper. Emma however has been suffering from twinges of guilt ever since. She's spent most of today following me around the house being all lovey dovey to express her apologies.
But I wouldn't have guessed how much a bite from a cat could hurt.
It was excruciating pain ... A lot of it. She managed to pierce through my skin in two spots, as well as crush the top of my nail with her killer bite. Which all in all, made me consider two things:
(1) There is no way in hell I would ever willingly stick my head into a tigers mouth.
and
(2) If a small little cat could inflect such a terrible amount of pain, I absolutely recede my resolution to swim with sharks for something a little less prone to eating man. Perhaps goldfish are the better choice.
The New Resolution. Happy 2004!
Every year I do this. Sit down at this same computer, racking my brain for what seems to be hours on end, only to come up with a grocery list of things I plan to resolve with the passing of the new year.
But despite my honorable intentions, my resolutions don't tend to last too long. Perhaps it's one of those quantity versus quality things that everyone is always talking about. You know the whole bizz, less is more, yada yada yada ... The whole too much on your plate syndrome that most people suffer from on a daily basis.
So I'm keeping it simple this year.
No lists eight miles long, no cheesy gimmicks, plans, or promises. Just one simple thing. An idea.
Be good to others and be good to self.
Fate can do the rest.
But despite my honorable intentions, my resolutions don't tend to last too long. Perhaps it's one of those quantity versus quality things that everyone is always talking about. You know the whole bizz, less is more, yada yada yada ... The whole too much on your plate syndrome that most people suffer from on a daily basis.
So I'm keeping it simple this year.
No lists eight miles long, no cheesy gimmicks, plans, or promises. Just one simple thing. An idea.
Be good to others and be good to self.
Fate can do the rest.
