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Wednesday, June 02, 2004
The Big Change
No, no, it's not puberty (once was enough), or menopause, or even a sex change operation. I have come to the conclusion that as much as I love my loyal readers (all four? - fingers crossed) of them, I simply do not have the emotional energy to feel guilty about not having time/energy to update my blog on a regular basis. At least not for only four people, as dear to me as you all are. I have, however, come up with a possible solution. I've decided to start a new blog (yes, the best way to deal with not having time for one blog is definitely to start another), but this new blog will hopefully have a wider audience. In the interest of quantity over quality, I will be editing the new blog down to a PG rating, and gearing it more towards family news, rather than my own personal weirdness. This way, maybe I can tell my grandma to read it, and I won't have to feel guilty about not emailing her more often. Now, I must stress that this is just an experiment, and there is no need to panic. Any Day Now shall remain in all its glory; it will just be getting less frequent updates. What I ask of you, my loyal readers, is that you read my new blog Breathing Underwater. And then, if anything racy or weird occurs to me, I shall simply make a note on the new blog for you to check out this one. If anyone has a problem with that, they can travel to WI and kick my ass (except for Heather, who already lives here, but I happen to know that her schedule is completely booked for June, so I do not fear her wrath). So check it out!!!
And a special note for Clare: pretty pretty please with sugar and whipped cream and cherries on top can you put the comment feature on my new blog for me? I'll love you forever :) Or I suppose I could use the comment thing they already have, which I just noticed, although I don't know that I like that you have to post anonymously if you don't have a blogger account. And how do you add links? Help!
11:19 AM
Tuesday, June 01, 2004
Retards R Us
Something happened today that reminded me of a story I was going to tell a while ago. During tax season, we need extra help around the office, so my boss got a temp to come in afternoons and do my job. (I can't work full time because of Justin's work schedule). So this girl comes in, seems ok for about a day, and then her stupidity and annoyingness become rapidly apparent. I had to train her a little bit, and every time she screwed anything up, I had to write her notes and instructions, heavily highlighted on the correct procedures. She even sent in some forms to the IRS, forms that we are required by law to keep in our possession for at least 5 years. Eventually she just stopped showing up for work. This just happened to be the day before Justin was hospitalized. So the temp agency sent someone else. I talked to one of my co-workers the first week this girl worked (I didn't go to work for the two weeks Justin was in the hospital), and she said not to worry that I couldn't make it, this girl seemed friendly and smart and was doing a good job. Yeah, well, that lasted all of about two minutes. She became increasingly annoying, and was very unprofessional all the time. She talked incessantly, prying into everyone's personal business and keeping anyone from accomplishing anything. She got about 100 personal calls a day, even during times she didn't work. She started showing up late every day, and finally one day, she never showed up at all. The temp agency couldn't imagine what happened to her, since she was such a "nice responsible girl". Really she was a kiss ass annoying little prick. She called me hon all the time, and the first day we met, she told me to "get some rest, hon" as I was leaving. She was in my business all the time, and somehow, in my sleep deprived state, I even let it slip that I was looking for another job. After that, she left prominently displayed notes on my desk about jobs she'd seen in the classified that she thought I might like. Good thing my boss already knew I wanted to start looking for something in my field. She actually told my boss that on her way to her interview at the temp agency she had driven past our office and was really really hoping that she would get a job here. That is such a load of bull for so many reasons. Namely, she didn't know we were hiring, she lives in Platteville and our office is not en route to the temp agency, and no on looks at our office and thinks they really really want to work here. Anyway, about two weeks after she quit with no notice, we get a call from an employer running a reference check on her. This girl actually gave us as a reference. On the form, as reason for leaving, she had put "temp job" as if the fact that a job is a temp job means that you can just quit at any time you want with no warning, explanation, or apology whatsoever. I could not believe her nerve/stupidity. There are so many stupid people in the world that I am just continually amazed.
11:52 AM
Tuesday, May 18, 2004
Child Development
If my son likes to wear my bras and underwear around his neck, and if the thing that entertains him best while shopping is playing with beaded necklaces, does that mean he's going to have issues as he gets older? Actually I'm not concerned about these preferences. I think the bra and underwear habit is a result of Justin wearing a chain. Jordan likes to be just like his daddy and so he puts everything around his neck (even those children's outfit hangers with the head sized cut out in the middle). I think my undergarments are probably the most comfortable option. In fact he's taken this copy cat thing so far that he even wears his sunglasses at all hours of day and night, just like daddy, who I think is really a vampire because he feels the need for sunglasses on even the darkest days.
I'm very proud of Jordan because he can point to most of his body parts on demand, including pee-pee and butt. He can also bark like a dog, meow like a cat, and moo like a cow. I'm fairly sure that he thinks he actually is a dog because he barks all the time, even if there is no dog in the vicinity, especially when he's happy. So maybe I should be more concerned that he'll grow up thinking he's a dog than that he'll grow up with a preference for women's underwear.
11:48 AM
Monday, May 17, 2004
Yes I'm Crazy, But You Have To Love Me Anyway
Justin and I have been having an ongoing conversation about how, not even counting the 40 hours a week he's at work, I end up spending a lot of time taking care of Jordan by myself while he's off doing something (golf, softball, darts...). This makes me lonely and cranky, and yes, even bitch on occasion. He claimed that this year, his grandma has watched Jordan every time he's gone golfing, which is A - not true, and B - not the point. I know there are endless weekends in our lives that he will want to golf all day or be in softball or dart tournaments. Anyway, not 24 hours after making this claim, he mentioned that he had plans for Sunday (yesterday). When asked to elaborate, he admitted that he wanted to go play golf. I asked if he'd found a sitter, and he asked me why I couldn't watch Jordan. I said I would watch him, but only if he found someone to hang out with me so I wouldn't be so lonely and annoyed by having to do everything myself. He bitched and moaned and eventually called up my parents to ask if they could "wife-sit". I ended up going to my first grade and second grade teacher's anniversary celebration of 25 years of teaching. As this consisted of sitting through a church service and a dinner with several speeches with a squirmy whiny boy on my lap, I think I would have been better off staying home alone with Jordan and being bored. But in spite of that, I still plan to make Justin find me a sitter next time he wants to be gone all day on a weekend ;).
11:45 AM
Wednesday, May 12, 2004
More Ghetto By The Second
Have you ever had to leave a bar in a big hurry because a motor cycle gang was going to "start some shit"? Well, now I have. We were hanging out at Bennet's (the diviest of dive bars) when someone said we had to leave right away because the CC Riders were all over the bar trying to start something. Justin sent me to wait in the entryway with his drink while he "got his friends' backs" in the bar. Then once everyone was out, we all drove off in a big hurry. Guys are clearly crazy, but hey at least we got a new rocks glass out of the deal.
11:29 AM
Tuesday, May 11, 2004
The Garage Sale Made Me Do It
I am truly a horrible person. I have devised a way to defraud Goodwill. I totally blame the failed garage sale we held last month. With Justin off of work for two months, we actually managed to semi-thoroughly dejunk our house. Because of his little work hiatus, we've been short on money as well. So, a garage sale seemed like the perfect plan to get rid of our junk and make a little extra cash. As luck would have it, our neighborhood garage sale was scheduled for the end of April. Now last year I spent the entire day checking out other people's garage sales during the same event, and let me tell you, it was like being at the mall it was so busy. Naturally this year had just about the crappiest weather imaginable. It was 30 degrees when we went out to set up in the morning, and I think the warmest it ever got was about 50. There was an endless line of cars and trucks pausing at the end of our driveway and continuing on, with no one willing to get out of their vehicle to view our many splendid used household items. I think we had a total of 3 people actually stop and look at our stuff, with the exception of my family. My mom made some pity purchases because Justin and I were both just moping around, and I think between her and the two customers who actually purchased something, we made a grand total of $23. So anyway, now I have been trying to figure out what to do with all the junk. Holding another garage sale scares me, because if it doesn't work out again, I'll be all cranky. And yet, I don't want to just give all of this stuff away. I do plan on making trips to second hand stores to sell what I can, but they're always so picky. At last, while at Goodwill trying on jeans and looking for a pasta server, I came up with a plan. Many of the items at Goodwill are not tagged. Because of this, they have a little brochure with a list of all the prices for untagged goods. Therefore, the Goodwill receipt is quite vague (in other words, a pasta server rings up as a 39 cent household item). So this is my ingenious plan:
Step 1 - Go to Goodwill, purchase item I actually need
Step 2 - Go home, go through the price guide and find an item I want to get rid of that is the same price as the item I just bought
Step 3 - Return my item, thus making the Goodwill item I just purchased free, and clearing my house of one more piece of junk
The problem with this plan (besides the fact that it is morally and ethically wrong) is that Goodwill has a seven day return policy, and so I will be in and out of the store on a regular basis and the employees will start to remember me and will figure out my little scheme. Of course, there are several Goodwill stores in the Madison area. So...I will leave you to wonder if I am going to try out my little scheme, and if I do, if I get caught.
8:58 AM
Monday, April 05, 2004
Clare's story of a stalker who claims to be unbalanced by the fact that her father is dying (and by sugar) has inspired me to tell my own story of a man unbalanced by the death of his mother. This story begins in September of 2002 when I moved into my current home with my sister and her family. We did the customary check in sheet for the security deposit, noting that, among other things, the screen door in the dining room was damaged, the light outside the garage was missing and the upstairs bathroom sink leaked. Our landlady promised to have the light fixed within the week, and suggested putting a bucket under the sink (she's brilliant, obviously). In August of 2003 Lydia and Brandon moved out, and Justin, Jordan, and I moved upstairs. We signed a new lease and called Bonnie (the landlady) with a list of necessary repairs, which included, among other things, the still leaking sink and the never replaced light. In spite of many phone calls and two letters, Bonnie never had anything fixed. Apparently her regular handyman was incapacitated by the death of his mother. Seven months after our move upstairs I once again contacted Bonnie. She sounded less than surprised to hear that nothing had been fixed and again gave me the lame excuse about her handyman (whose mother died over a year ago, for crying out loud). Then, she insisted that I call him since her reminders weren't working. I gave in, simply because I would like to use my screen door some time this spring. I called, left a message, and after four days the guy finally called, with, what else, some story about having been out of town for a family event related to his mother's death. I was on the phone with this idiot for a good 15 minutes repeating myself over and over until he finally seemed to grasp what we need fixed, where we live, and we managed to set up a time. He said we could just leave a key for him, but I thought "hell no" and told him someone would be home. Well, naturally he showed up four hours late, and only managed to remove the screen door and to take off the plate covering the wiring for the outside light (which, of course left some lovely exposed wiring, a great thing considering the rainstorm which was brewing when he left), promising to be back the next day. He then called and said he had to order a part and it'd be better if he came back on Friday so he could get everything done at once. Of course he was several hours late on Friday too, and only managed to replace the screen door. Apparently he had the wrong parts or was missing other parts to fix all of the other problems. So he's supposedly coming back today to "finish up" (yeah right!). I have so far avoided being home when he's been there, but the general consesus is that this guy is more than a few bricks short of a load. What I fail to understand is why our landlady insists on using such a moron to do the repairs, and also why it is that supposedly he was a perfectly capable and reliable handyman until his mom croaked. I understand being upset about your mom dying, but really, it's been a year, and if he can't behave rationally by now he should seek some counseling and tell his employer he's not up to the job.
12:56 PM
Tuesday, March 30, 2004
Pink Cadillac Fever
Somehow I allowed myself to be suckered into going to a quarterly Mary Kay convention with my cousin last night. I think I felt bad because I told her I would have a Mary Kay party when she first started selling it, but I didn't, and because I turned down all her other invitations, and because she's pregnant (I never like to disappoint pregnant women, I guess). Also, I was desperate to get out of the house. The good news is that I got my makeup done for free, and I actually looked pretty good (of course, then I wanted to buy the makeup, which I totally can't afford at this point, which is irritating). The bad news is that I was then subjected to a little Mary Kay awards show. Two hours of women in various combinations of black, pink, and red suits trooping across the stage, each stating her name and unit leader. It was like the army, only scarier because of the continual clapping, giggling, and trite music selections (volume lowered for speeches and raised for the marches, of course). I felt like standing up and yelling "Girl Power" but was afraid death by mascara brush would prove none too comfortable. Seriously, it's like a cult. And, like any other cult, they really want you to join. Although the idea of selling makeup for a living while wearing a pink suit in order to earn a pink car is anathema to me, I was forced to consider it momentarily when presented with the following information. Only 3% of the millionaires in this country are women, and of that 3%, 97% are involved with Mary Kay. Shocking isn't it! To think that practically the only chance one has to earn millions as a women is to sell makeup. I think I'll make a statement for the liberation of women everywhere and earn my million without wearing a drop of pink, or celebrating sisterhood in any Nazi-type gathering. I might, however, stock up on some Mary Kay makeup as soon as Justin and I are out of our financial hole. You've got to look good to sleep your way to the top ;)
9:45 AM
Wednesday, March 24, 2004
Less Stuff, More Food?
Somehow I keep reading these murder mystery novels where the protagonists are living these incredibly epicurean lifestyles. Even if their homes are not quite Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous (or MTV Cribs) caliber, these people eat, drink, and usually dress exceedingly well. Pages upon pages are dedicated to describing wine, brandy, and gourmet meals. One of the characters in the last book I read lived in a shack out in the boondocks with a tent out behind functioning as her art studio/aromatherapy lab. She worked as a waitress at a very posh restaurant/wine bar and got to eat and mingle with the clientele (in fact she dated the owner and inherited his house when he died). This leads me to believe that perhaps I should be less interested in acquiring worldly goods such as pantry organizers, filing cabinets, children's toys and the like, and instead should dedicate myself to the living a simple uncluttered life dedicated to the pursuit of fine dining. And as everyone knows, 5 star restaurants require 5 star wardrobes. Of course, this will never happen, but it's nice to dream. If anyone is looking for a good book, Death by the Glass is a light and entertaining read that I recommend, with one caveat - it will make you very hungry.
Back In the Real World
Justin got his stitches, sutures, and surgical tape removed and is feeling much better. He's even been helping me refinish a dining room table. When I lived with Ann, I bought a very nice table and chairs set at KMart. The only problem is that it's laminate, and when I lent it to my sister's family when I moved back home, her children ruined it in a matter of weeks. So they bought it from me, and moved it out of our dining room last week when they finally got their own place. Then my dad bought us a used table that is real wood and in pretty decent shape but had some water damage and needed to be refinished. I'm actually pretty excited about this project, as it means I get to put my brand new electric sander (a Christmas present that WAS on my list) to use. I've never refinished anything before, but we're almost done with it, and it seems to be looking pretty good. I can't wait to get it moved into the dining room. Then, of course, I've got to refinish all the chairs, but I think I can handle that.
10:27 AM
Wednesday, March 17, 2004
State of the Family Address
A few days ago I attempted to post a blog about how things have been going with Justin, Jordan, and myself, but alas, blogspot ate it before I could post it, and I was too irritated to attempt to recreate it. So here is the current version.
Justin had surgery on Friday, March 5. It took three very long hours, but seems to have been succesful. The (highly reputed) surgeon found the leak, and cut out the weak area, stapled the lung back up, and put in some talc to cause the lung to scar and adhere to the chest wall so the lung won't be able to collapse again. He said that he's never seen a leak in that location with a spontaneous lung collapse, but he found nothing else of concern in the lung. After the surgery Justin was hooked up to just about everything possible it seemed. He had an IV with a morphine drip, a seperate ball with narcotics going directly into his incision, an epidural for pain, a monitor hooked up to his finger to measure heart rate and oxygen level, a catheter, an oxygen mask, and these things on his legs to keep blood clots from forming (which he wore over white thigh high nylon stockings - very masculine). Needless to say, he was stuck in bed for several days. Then on Monday they unhooked him from everything, and on Tuesday they sent him home with a big old bottle of Percaset (no idea how to spell that).
It would have been wonderful to have him home, but of course, I got the flu Monday night and couldn't even pick him up from the hospital. His grandma had to come up and get him, and then she sterilized everything in the house and gave bottles of hand sanitizer and containers of Lysol disinfecting wipes to Justin and me. Then I laid on the couch and felt like a leper for the next couple days. Naturally, in spite of everything, Justin still got the flu and was miserable (and terrified that he would rip his lung open every time he threw up) for a good 48 hours. Things have finally settled down and Justin seems to be recovering well, if slowly. I'm back to work at last (oh the joy), and Justin's grandma comes up every morning to help with Jordan since Justin can't lift him until April at the earliest.
I want to thank everyone for all of their thoughts, prayers, and other miscellaneous help. We certainly couldn't have gotten through this on our own. Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!
9:49 AM
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