The Lion's Den

I was tagged. I shall respond. And some day, I might actually blog again!

What stereotype were you in high school? The athlete? The geek? Tag five people to do this. 

Drama Geek. Brainiac. Geek Goddess. New Romantic (see Spandau Ballet, Duran Duran, Psychedelic Furs-hair dyed odd colors, and I dressed like an extra in a John Hughes movie. Molly Ringwald and Annie Potts circa "Pretty in Pink".) I was in all honors and AP classes, A student, etc. The good news is that I was one of those geeks that could "pass" so I wasn't relegated to any one group, I hung out with the popular kids, I hung out with nerds--overall, our high school wasn't real hardline about social groups. We had them, but it wasn't a "you could never be one of us" kind of thing. Aside from some drama between a surfer gang and another gang and three little princesses no one liked, we all were pretty flexible.

I got into drama to help get me past my shyness, and it was just an incredible experience. I learned a great deal, and it saddens me that these programs are among the first cut when budgets are tight--being in the plays, musicals, and competing in the drama festivals--those are the times I remember, and there are lessons I still use everyday. Just because something seems "frivolous" doesn't mean it is.

I was not a goody-goody--although I had that reputation, and everyone was always shocked when I did something no one expected. Like cutting Spanish for a week and getting away with it--I was a master class cutter. I could forge my dad's signature. To parents everywhere--don't have a couple squiggles as a signature. Way too easy for the evil teenaged mind to reproduce and do things like decide to go to the beach for the afternoon. I had an Eddie Haskell-like deniability with adults. I could mastermind something, but the adults never bought it if my name came up because I was such a "good girl."

I was also a proud member of the Academic League for all 4 years of my high school experience. We competed against other high schools in a College Quiz Bowl type of thing. It will forever be a source of bitterness that my beloved teacher and coach had to pay for our team's buses, fees for meets, etc. out of his own pocket and sales of refreshments that the parents put together for our home meets while the football team got everything handed to them on a silver platter. It was OUR first place trophies in the trophy case. Our football teamed sucked. While we had the nerds on Academic League, we also had some smart football players, etc. Like I said--the lines were not hard and bright at my school.

I don't miss high school, though. There are times and people I get a little nostalgic for, but my time was really college. I *LOVED* college. It was when I really started to bloom into me.

I'm not tagging anyone because most people I know well enough to tag have been tagged. :)

Happy Birthday to girlguidejones!!! I wish you were here. Hell, I wish you lived here, but you had to go and buy the AWESOMEST place ever 3 hours away. I would point out that the house across the street from us is for sale, but even it, in all its locally famous architect-built glory with updated plumbing and electric, and you know, proximity to us, cannot compete. Perhaps, if I promised that atomic_pencil would have a Sapphire martini with a twist waiting for you when you got home from work and he'd mow the lawn and shovel the walks (he does that already--our neighbor massively screwed up his shoulder)--we could lure you here. There are also a few condos available at my mom's place, only she can't make a martini for crap, but you'd still be within 3 MINUTES instead of HOURS. [/end local real estate ad--MOST LIVEABLE CITY!!! WOOHOO!!! Okay, seriously /end local real estate ad]. Anyway, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, and I hope you are enjoying the hell out of yourself today.

I haven't posted in forever. Not because of a lack of happening in my life, but really, a little too much happening in my life. As I said in the previous entry, (which was LAST YEAR for I am a lazy h0r) that ride started in September when I found out I was pregnant, we were elated--we've been trying forever--we actually quit trying and were taking a break before pursuing adoption. Then I had a miscarriage. Then I found out I was pregnant again. Then my grammy ended up in the hospitial and work was crazy. And the holidays happened. And I tried to catch my breath in January, but work increased the speed on the crazy train, Grammy died, I'm still pregnant, and he's a boy.

And as much as I'd like to keep up with all sorts of my usual fun stuff--I have to get a room ready for a new person, get him furnture and clothes and things, which is far harder than I thought it would be because most baby stuff is TOO PRECIOUS for the likes of me. (It's actually been documented several times over that babies respond better/can see brighter colors yet most baby stores still look like the Easter Bunny puked.) And I don't know how interesting anyone would find my rant about maternity clothes, although I suppose since I am not stuck with the shirts with the giant bow on front or the arrow pointing to my belly proclaiming "Baby!," I should thank god and Old Navy I can still dress somewhat normally. And I'm sure you'd be spellbound by my rant about showers (of any kind--I only had a wedding one because it was a surprise.) And I can see how you'd all be on the edge of your seat for my "Gas or Baby Kicks" series. And the tale of "White Coat Syndrome: Why I Must Test My Blood Pressure at the Eckerds with the Blue Hairs to Show It Really is Just an Unnatural Fear of All Things Medical" is truly epic.

In other words, I fear I'm turning into a Mommy. A cranky Mommy that finds the fetishizing of pregnancy and babies in our culture a bit weird, but a Mommy nonetheless. ETA: I should probably try to clarify what I mean--it's how being pregnant/having an infant makes you public property in a way--Where complete strangers become "Keepers of the Fetus/Infant" loudly passing judgment on a pregnant woman/mother's actions, etc. based on a soundbyte they heard on "The Today Show" to the people who feel free to touch you/touch or hold the baby/ask incredibly personal questions/tell you truly terrifying stories unsolicited or my personal favorite--tell you something's wrong with your child.

Whoever said "May you live in interesting times?" Yes, well, 2006 was interesting. I'd like a little less interesting and a little more smooth sailing for 2007--most of the aughts have been a bit more "interesting" than I generally care for in a year.

In January alone, we had the water heater die, a sewer line give up the ghost, and we bought a new car. The bank actually called us because of the amount of money we'd withdrawn from savings. Apparently, there is a limit of how much can be withdrawn from a personal savings account before the Feds wonder whether you are a terrorist or drug trafficker, and we hit it. Ouch.

Much of the year was good: Got to see a friend's play produced in Philadelphia (his second actually), which was also the same weekend I discovered I am too old to sleep where I fall and require an actual bed. The playwright likes celebrating with tequila. There were about 14 of us in a duplex in Philly with one bathroom spending the night. Yeah. Next time, a cab and a hotel.

Many friends came to visit, and we went to visit many friends, including the World's Cutest Now Almost Four Year Old and her parents. We discovered that girlguidejones's house rivals any top resort as far as vacation destinations go.

I got to meet some of atomic_pencil's extended family, and I came away from the weekend feeling as though I'd know them for years.

Aside from January, most of the bad seems to have hit the last part of the year--October onward. And I don't really feel like listing it or talking about it-I'll talk about things that piss me off, I'll talk about things that annoy me, but I really don't like talking about things that hurt me. It's just been a bumpy road, and fortunately, visits with friends have helped smooth the ride.

So for all of us, I'm wishing a less interesting and more happy and prosperous 2007!

Yes, I know. I don't post. I don't have much to post about that isn't moaning/whining. And I don't want to whine. I actually spelled that "wine"--Paging Dr. Freud, someone has turned your slip into customer service--cause "wining" I enjoy. ; )

( So what have I been doing other than moaning and whining? )

Long time, no post. Lots of personal stuff hit, and I don't have the distance to be comfortable blogging about any of it right now, but it is definitely effecting my mood, and the cranky bitca part of me now goes to 11. (Okay, so it sort of always did, but now it's stuck there.)

Anyway, this post is about one of my favorite things in the world: shoes. I am no Carry Bradshaw. I am not willing to wear gorgeous shoes that hurt my feet or spend hundreds of dollars on a *pair* of shoes, but I do love shoes, particularly sandals and boots. I own WAY more sandals than a woman who resides full-time in Pittsburgh needs to own, but I love them. I see a cute pair by a designer I know fits my freak feet well, and I am powerless. I'll buy shoes in colors I wouldn't consider owning clothes in, and I'll wear them. Proudly. (Case in point: I own a pair of chartreuse brocade Chuck Taylor hi-tops while I wouldn't even consider chartreuse as a valid color choice for anything else I put on my body.)

However, this is not about sandals or boots. This is about Vans. ( Specifically, the Vans classic slip-on. )

Excitement! Celebrities! Scandal! Disasters!

( Long-winded account )

Yes, there was a previous entry, which I hopelessly frelled by trying to use the rich text bullcrap. I apologize because I lost comments. I am a luddite.

I'm doing better--I have been since pretty much the day after I wrote the previous post. What set me off is still there, but I'm doing what I can about it, making fun of it, and trying not to worry about the rest. I'm a worrier by nature, though. I hate that.

Other than work, things are quiet--we've got a family reunion in Newark next weekend, which should be interesting--whether that means "fun" or "oh, god, oh god, we're all going to die" remains to be seen. (The latter a distinct possibility considering the "nice" hotel where we are staying has had 2 fires in the last 3 months. Kinda makes me want to bring my own smoke detector.) I've never met most of these people. It's a small part of my father-in-law's side of the family that lives in the States. (My in-laws live close by and we see each other frequently, it's the rest of the family.) I've been married to atomic_pencil for 12 years, in his life for 15, so you can see it's a close-knit bunch. 

It is a goal of mine to post at least once a week, but I've got nothing. I've got plenty, but it's all vitriol and bitterness, and despite attempting to get it all out, I end up feeling petty and silly and delete it. If I'm really upset about something, I can't make fun of it, and if I can't make light of it, I can't talk about it because humor is my release valve. We love the black humor in my family--and if it's choice between laughing and crying, we laugh. And I can't laugh right now, and it sucks. It usually does not take me this long to laugh. Something upsets me, I'm upset for a day or two, and then I'm over it, but this upset seems to be sticking. It's not someone dying. It's not worth the sticking, and what I'm upset about really is not worth all of this--it's indicative of some larger disappointments, but it really, truly is not worth the loss of humor. I hope tomorrow, I find all of this funny.

It's hard to explain without toeing the line of giving away info I can't give away, but this week has been a pretty damn cool week at work. Because I am now part of what I call the "This Gun for Hire" Department--I get to work on different projects using my mad skillz yo in different areas. At present, I am on three projects which shall henceforth be known as "The Project I Love," "The 'Eh' Project" and "The Project from Hell."

Both the "Love" project and the "Hell" project are major money-makers for my company. The fun thing about the "Love" project is that there are only four of us, which means a little spotlight action for me. Although I'm not comfortable in it for long, it is a great feeling to know that a project I have busted my ass on has brought in some revenue and kept some big name clients with my company ( my company was mentioned BY NAME in "Supernatural" I might add--also, "Law & Order" but note how much more excited I am by the first--hot boys know my company, if only because a script made them read it. I'll take what I can get.) Anyway, the "Love" project has been showering me with love this week, and it feels good. I got a surprise package with some awesome gifts, including a very nice backpack with telescoping handle and rollers, a travel mug, a t-shirt, and a purse pen, and today, the Team of Four had a lunch meeting where we all presented PowerPoint Presentations on who we were and my awesome boss sent us money for lunch and a coupon for a free pint of Ben & Jerry's. It was so much fun spending an hour and a half getting to know the people I work with, and they are all accomplished and interesting people. Working from home cuts down on the office politics, but it also means I don't get to know my co-workers as well as I'd like--we had so much fun--we've decided to do this quarterly. And there's hope that since our "lunch" was so successful, it will spread and there will be more.

However, the "Hell" project continues to flog, change the rules, and generally get under my skin. It has the potential to be okay, but we're under so much pressure from the higher-ups--we can't even settle into a nice, boring routine. Considering the project I love has shown me the love back, I think the "Hell" project owes me a motorcycle-- a Triumph Bonneville will suit me just fine. ;)

I bitch, but I am very happy with the new department. I like being called upon to do anything at any time, and I enjoy the challenges, but unfortunately, it does mean doing some of the "Hell" stuff to get to the "Love" stuff.

And while I can't figure out how to share my presentation with y'all, I'm more than happy to share some of the photos if there's a demand.

I'm starting a band called "Satan's Throw Pillows"--I'm the lead guitarist--assign yourselves roles.

I don't need or want hairpats or advice (Believe me, I'm a freaking encyclopedia on the subject.) I just want to whine a little.

I don't know what the hell is going on weather-wise but my sinuses have been killing me since Saturday. Some days have been better than others, but overall, I am in a funk. They even have a name for it: sinus depression. On the one hand, I'm happy that if I have to have a chronic health condition, it's something innocuous like chronic sinusitis--mostly annoying with the occasional "kill me now" headaches and need for 20 hours of sleep in a row, but on the other, I'm fucking sick of it. And of course, I ride that line of "not bad enough to recommend surgery" and from everything I've read, I'm not sure how helpful the surgery would be long-term anyway. My problems are caused by a deformation in my sinus cavities (but you look so normal on the outside!) and that's not something the surgery can fix, although it can remove scar tissue. Also, my worst problems are in my frontal sinuses (they are sort of up under your eyebrows), and surgery on frontal sinuses is complicated, scary (involving tiny cameras and can involve surgery NEAR MY EYE) and not a recommended option unless I'm chronically sick, which I'm really not--I have "spells" (makes me sound so Blance DuBois.) Also, it's pretty much a temporary solution because of the whole deformity thing--the scar tissue would likely re-develop, etc.

One thing that does make me feel a little better is that my belief some of my worst periods are related to barometric pressure has recently been borne out by the medical community. (It's not all in my head! HA!) But that also means there's no real magic pill to fix it. (Yes, you're right, you are sensitive to weather! But uh, that's as far as we got.)In a few days, when whatever front is here moves on, I'll be fine again. But right now, I'm exhausted, thinking is like swimming underwater, and there are tons of things I'd like to be working on but I can barely get through the work I'm paid to do before needing to revert to a zombie-like state (except I wander around the house moaning "Te-e-e-e-e-e-e-a-a-a" instead of "Bra-a-a-a-a-a-i-i-i-ns.")

( Why knowing a tiny bit of Photoshop is a bad thing. )

Yes, I know. I swore I'd never have one. I lied. I need a place to get my creative fandom out.

Also, this whole friending thing? I am a stranger in a strange land. I'm married to atomic_pencil, so I assumed he'd be okay with it. But if there's some etiquette or something, someone needs to send me the rules. I mean, do you just friend whoever you feel like? I don't mind people friending me, but uh, I do feel a bit odd just friending someone without asking. So far, I've friended people who have stayed at my house-hey, they've seen me first thing in the morning and still speak to me, so they must be my friends.

Cheers!