Wednesday, November 26, 2003

...ah, Thanksgiving...I get to stay here in the wonderful world of Millsaps until the residence halls close at 3:00 pm. Then, we initiate a room-to-room, building-to-building sweep of all the halls to make sure people are not squatting in their rooms over the break. We HAVE to do this, as the halls close down when the offices are closed, and I have caught people hiding in bathroom stalls and closets before. No joke. Thursday morning, I will begin the trek to Ye Olde Homesteade of Starkville for the EGG BOWL. I get to see my parents and sister (hoo-ha) and we can see if I can make it into the driveway and put my car in park before we all erupt into a skirmish. The day will consist of me trying to explain what I cooked and brought with me (I tend to cook foods that are a WEE bit healthier than my biological relatives are used to), followed by a lengthy debate on why I'm not married, why I'm a heathen, what exactly it is that I do (which, after working in Higher Education for ALMOST TEN YEARS NOW, one would think my parents MIGHT "get it"), and just how much cooler and socially acceptable my jackass kid sister is than I am. It's like a holiday special with the most dysfunctional family imaginable. But, there's a lot of love. It's normally found after my mom gets tipsy from the TWO glasses of wine she'll have. Lightweight...

Thursday night I will drive home, and sit my frazzled ass down back at home and watch the walls for three or four hours, just to de-stress. Friday I may try and fight the moonlight (sorry; I mean "traffic") and go hunting the ever-elusive bargains that strike on Black Friday. -- oh, who'm I kidding? I'll just rent movies and order pizza. Screw the mall. Especially Friday. All I'd do is buy crap for me and then complain about the inbred locals who go to the malls on the Friday after Thanksgiving at 2:00 am just to get that extra 5% off their framed duck prints at Kirkland's.


Tuesday, November 25, 2003

I look forward to out weekly, bi-weekly, and monthly staff meetings about as much as I would getting my eyeball pierced. Our monthly staff meetings used to consist of boring people going around the table explaining what all is happening in their specialty areas, while I spent the time writing out a suicide letter that I would use if the meeting didn’t end quickly. Now we have monthly STAFF DEVELOPMENT meetings where we all have to learn to play nice and bond with one another. I'm planning on intentionally having an aneurysm one Friday during these torture experiences, just to get out of it. I now understand why animals in the wild sometimes chew their own legs off to get out of traps.
So, for the first time in -- oh, over two months -- I have been able to start exercising again. And yes, by exercise, I mean I'm getting back into my Yoga regiment. Why? Well, there're a couple of reasons:

(a) It's the holiday season, and people cook. TOO much. And, with this food that they prepare, they expect me to eat said food. And these heathens do not cook with soy, organic food, or even anything lite or diety. These culinary Nazis use full-fat foods and heavy cream. Ergo, if I want to keep my waistline under 48 inches, I must Yoga-ize;

(b) For the first time since I started having these ******* chemicals injected directly into my noggin, I feel like doing physical things again. Unfortunately, some of the physical activities I would like to engage in, I can not, as I have no monogamous partner in which to engage...playing Trivial Pursuit (gutter minds, the lot of you; I know what you were thinking);

(c) Sadly, it makes me feel good. The idea that I am can stretch myself out on my living room floor and hear and feel the muscles and joints popping and stretching BACK into the shape they were in before I took a sabbatical...well, damn, but it makes me feel good about myself. Plus, it helps with posture; and

(d) I bought all those ******* DVD's, and I'm bloody well going to get my money's worth out of them.

Granted, my stomach, legs, thighs, arms, and back all hurt like hell right now, but I'm sure I'll be all suave and sexy by March.

Thursday, November 20, 2003

Well, let's see -- this morning, I have managed to drop my dog off at the vet (check-up and tooth cleaning); I have had to buy Pepto (leftovers hurt); and my CD-ROM drive on my computer is acting all funkified.

...today is really Monday, isn't it?

Wednesday, November 19, 2003

Here is a sad and shameless plug for a friend's little blog critter.


Suddenly I remember why I hate the holiday season: food.

Think about this -- I am stuck in a quad of fat. My birthday leads into Thanksgiving which leads into Christmas/etc. which leads into New Year's. I believe that at this moment, my fridge contains more food in it in the form of leftovers than it has held in the entire three years I've been here. And it's only going to get worse. My family and friends (damn you all) get this cooking bug lodged up their collective asses and decide to cook 46 metric tons of food to feed eleven people...and then it falls to the people who do NOT reside at the principle establishment where said food is consumed to transport this food back to each respective home.

Cricket loves the food, but please -- don't make my puppy a porker.

...and you people wonder why I prefer to volunteer at someplace like Stewpot for the holidays...I get to GIVE AWAY food, not keep it.


Tuesday, November 18, 2003

Crap, but you people are nosy...


NO, I WILL NOT DISCLOSE THIS PERSON'S NAME OR IDENTITY. Please. Gentlemen don't do that.

Anyway, if anything, this last post has made me realize that some people monitor this Blog thing closer than I thought. Remind me never to put anything personal up here that could cause anxiety. Buncha hooligans...

******

RA evaluations are proceeding apace. In the last two days, I have seen three of the four people I was the most afraid to have a one-on-one with, and they've all been well without incident. One person even commented that they were "pleasantly surprised" with the level of professionalism I exude, because they were convinced I was tearin' it up, and having drunken sex with my RA's and residents on a regular basis. [Okay, maybe not literally, but that's what it felt like I was being accused of.] I just smiled and told this person -- in professional terms, of course -- that I have come to believe that they weren't the sanctimonious egotistical prat that they come across as being 90% of the time. Civility coupled with politics. Fek aff.

******

The new Tori Amos CD and the 4-disc The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers both came out today. I am $40 poorer for it.

******

In an hour, I will go to the third celebratory birthday dinner in as many days. God bless my expanding ass...

Monday, November 17, 2003

Well, I finally bloody well did it.

-- y'ever have that certain someone, that special person who...you really can not explain why...but you've gotten close to them. You share something, something completely inexplicable...something that defies a rational, logical definition. This person, in my case, may be someone who you have parenthetically known for years. Someone who you've known OF, but not really known. Yet...you're brought together through circumstances that will make you feel an aneurysm coming on if you try and explain it.

This is a person who you have gotten to know REALLY well over the course of two and a half years...a person whose personality and yours may not have matched perfectly at first...but you've both grown. And grown together...and towards one another.

A person who you trust implicitly...who you could be just at home with lying next to them in flannel pajamas as you would be sitting in the finest restaurant...who you can share your deepest darkest secrets with as well as mock the passersby with. Someone who is YOU, but isn't you. Who compliments your personality in ways you never knew you needed...who helps complete a circle you never noticed was an ellipse...

Someone who, despite your best efforts and calculated attempts to not...someone who you have developed true, real, and sincere feelings for.

...and then you share said feelings, ready to take the risk and be shot down with.

...and, after sharing said feelings, the response you're given lies somewhere between "Oh, that's so sweet" and pure "But you're just a friend."

Yeah. Happy freakin' birthday, there, Sonny. No wonder Christ died when He reached your age (33). New beginnings, my flippant arse.


...and now, I will go and drink. Alone. In the dark.

Thursday, November 06, 2003

The Matrix Revolutions made me realize exactly how much my head hurts. I wanted to get an Occipital Nerve Block in my EYES after wathing that piece of dreck...

Monday, November 03, 2003

Yesterday was Sunday, November 2, 2003.

It was 87 degrees outside.

-- Look, I don't know about you, but to me, there is something INSANELY wrong with this.