"Because the apocalypse doesn't have to be lonely."

Created by Mingle2.com (Dating for non-zombies)

"Why'd I get double stuffed?"

"Oh the weather outside is frightful."

It's been snowing in Seattle for a week now. Grant it the last few days have been with lots of snow, covering anything and everything. And since I work retail I am expected to show up for work. Of course I'm only expected to come to work because of America's need to buy shit.

Don't get me wrong, I like the shop I work at. The woman who owns it is grounded and generous, but when the fuckin' weather association nerds say to stay home then by fuckin' golly we should stay home! Yet that is not the case that I've been putting up with for the last few days.

American consumerism is an addiction, clearly. 12 inches of snow does not deter the shopper from coming to Ballard and buying a fart machine.

What a bunch of losers.

However, I'm not signing off this post with that bummer sentence above, but with this!

Though taken on Saturday, 12.13.08, I still love the peacefulness this image brings.

Merry Yule and joyous Solstice to all, and to all a good night.

"Alright, alright, Mickey's a mouse, Donald's a duck, Pluto's a dog, what's Goofy?"

A Beluga whale at Sea World in San Diego.

A hippo skull at Ripley's Believe It or Not Musuem.

The Child ready for battle at Medieval Times.

Sleeping Beauty's Castle covered in ice lights at Disneyland.

Me, the Child, Mickey Mouse, Ian, and Leslie together at last in Mickey's House in ToonTown.

As much as humanity repulses me and as much as I despise humans, I really love life. I do. It's true. I love waking up, you know becoming aware I'm still alive and get another chance at living. I wonder about dying in my sleep sometimes. First thought about that is I wouldn't even know, so waking up is a 50/50 chance. With that you've got to believe me when I say I adore vacation, especially touristy destinations. They keep me humble.

I just returned from a week-long vacation with the family down to Southern California. Three days, spread out over a 7, to visit Disneyland (and Disney's California Adventure, hereon referred to as DCA (yeah, I've gotten a lot of legal paperwork, what's your point?), Sea World down in San Diego, Universal Studios, Ripley's Believe It or Not Museum, and Medieval Times.


*******************************

12.18.08
The little gem above I started soon after returning from vacation at the end of November. Life's been a crazy, needy bitch lately thus no fuckin' blog posts in over a goddamn month! I'm a horrid blogger, so I've decided I don't fit the label of "blogger". I'm more of a Putterer.

"Play that funky music, white boy!"

This is Peter Fox. The song is called Alles Neu. Yes, it's in German. It's also the most played video in our house right now.

"I'm gonna need more dew and universe juice!"

I got hellaciously drunk the other night due to celebrating a friend's birthday. It's an annual occasion that gets more painful the older I get. I just can't seem to exercise any goddamn restraint. I get totally caught up in the social moment, seeing and visiting with people I only seem to see once a year (at said birthday boozefest).

Ian even set the alarm clock on his cell phone. Of course when it went off it went unheard and by the time Ian mentioned it to me my attitude was, "Eeeeeh, fuck it."

Damn me! Damn my idiotic, booze comsumption stupidity! Gah! But my punishment was painful and long, causng me to actually call in sick to work (and I only work 4 fucking days a week). How humiliating, but that's how it goes for me. It must be humiliating for me otherwise I'm not affected enough to care and change. Well okay, I get it. I'm too goddamn old to be drinking like that (especially too old to be retching my guts out multiple times the next day). Ian agreed and we pinky sweared (swore?) never do that again..

"It's more comfortable for you to label me as insane."

So today's Election Day 2008. I've been on the computer a lot this morning, avoiding news segments and TV shows. But come 4pm I'm turning on the ol' boob-tube to see how the east coast voting is going. Otherwise, I'm staying in my bubble as long as possible.

I need to go upstairs and put away the Halloween decorations. I was able to get the child to put away a box of lights last night, but for all the constant nagging I should've put them away myself. She'd plop in a bundle then lean on the rocking chair. She had a blanket wrapped around her body so each task was done with only one hand, as the other hand held the blanket closed around her. It made me think of the informercial for a blanket with sleeves. YES SLEEVES! WOW! Can you believe it?! *shoots self in head* Yes, a blanket with sleeves, which winds up looking like the person's wearing their robe backwards, which makes me giggle. Okay, laugh. A lot.

I was invited to an Election Party tonight that I immediately said Yes to. Then it went to a Maybe when Ian's stepdad came to town and his date of departure wasn't clear. Now I've changed it to No because my family suddenly has interest in the election and they want me to be home with them to watch the results. And the results better be good damnit! I had a customer in yesterday saying she'd have a beer handy. I replied that I would have tequila and red wine on hand. The tequila is the celebratory liquid and red wine is the drink of solace and sadness.

"Why is that?" the customer asked.

"Red wine makes my cheeks flush. It would be my only warm fuzzy to comfort me."

I feel bad saying No to this party though as it is my second No to the same inviter (yeah?). Legitimate reasons to decline of course, but when people back out on me I always think they just don't want to hang out with me. Yes, I'm paranoid ALL the time, what's your point? In changing my party reply to No, I also typed up a long ass winded note about feeling bad, but I exceeded the character count and so my pathetic ramble went unknown ... until now. Crap.

For Halloween, the child dressed up as the killer from the Scream movies (pictures forth coming). The ORIGINAL Scream movie, so she was the Billy/Stu killer with the mask et al. Ian even colored up a knife for her, which she didn't take to school. I was proud of myself for nixing the faux weapon BEFORE the note to parents about fake weapons not being allowed at school was sent out. Halloween night had the child trick-or-treating with her buddy, Lauren, dressed as a dead cheerleader. They laughed about McKenzie being Lauren's killer. Oh hahha! Isn't that swell?!

"You killed me!!"

Ha. Ha.

Speaking of the child, her sheets need changing but to get to them I have to remove a Spongebob Squarepants bed-tent the child can't seem to live without these days. I'm glad she has it though as her room gets really chilly yet she refuses to use a space heater. She says it makes her nose stuffed up, and though she may be right it is still damn cold in that's child's room! Vampire child with her coffin-like bedcovering ... Oh. My. Gawd. Really? I just had this moment of clarity. My child is a bright and shiny, happy Goth. WORLDS COLLIDE! News at 11!

"Did you hear that? He's the perversion of nature. Wow, isn't that exciting!"

I did a four hour stint at my new job yesterday. Worked with the owner, of course after she took me to Starbucks and bought me a tall Salted Caramel Hot Chocolate (note to self: next time have them add a shot!), and also after the cook next door at People's Pub screwed up a burger order and brought us the mistakes (two Swiss burgers that should've been two Swiss veggie burgers). I unpacked lots of cool gizmo things and priced away to my heart's content. I rang out some customers, greeted everyone th at came in and had a genuine smile for all. The owner complimented me on my octopus tattoo and skull polo shirt, and we continued to bound over having been married twice, one kid a piece so far, early to work husbands, San Francisco, and Seattle.

I walked to and from work yesterday, with the October air breezy and cold against my cheeks. I felt warm inside, and calm. No drama or bullshit, no lies or pretense. Go there to work, leave it when you're done. No fretting. I can ask people to leave if they're being assy. The owner has her staffs' back, which is only 3, well 4 for the moment then there will be three. Tiny store. Smaller staff. Less people to roll my eyes at.

********

The family and I are headed into the southern abyss known as Ravensadale tonight to attend a pumpkin carving party. It's hosted by a lady I use to work with and I'm excited. Though the drive down there is something I am not looking forward too. But once we're there it will be cozy and fun, I think and hope simultaneously.

********

I recently came across a bag of stuff from my desk when I worked at CarDomain (as well as when I worked at Champion Costume & Display). I was the receptionist so I didn't have any wall space for pictures but I managed a few images to keep me sane, as well as bunch of little nic-nac toy things that stay easily hidden. However as far as the pictures go I found them to be fun and funny, and I was a tad miffed at myself for forgetting about them. I've posted some here to share.

This is the child when she was 2. That there is a pure and genuine display of happiness.

Some art from the child around the same time.

This is the child and me when I had blonde hair. Yes, you read that right. Bonde hair. I was curious! But it didn't stay long as I had no patience for the upkeep that goes into remaining blonde when you're not born one.

And a picture of Ian and I when we first started dating back in the beginning of 2004. Though he was undoubtly adorable back then, he is far more manly nowadays, thanks in large part to my patient tutelage.

"Greetings Programs!"

School pictures are this Thursday, which explains why the child had a small breakout on her face over the weekend. Poor spawn. I feel for her and make myself totally available to her for questions and concerns. I'm all about the customer service. She's 9 now and looks 11. I can tell she has severe conflicting emotional moments because of her furrwed brow, and I can clearly remember life at 9. I too had a stepdad, but mine wasn't a awesome as Ian. The child has a lot of love in her home environment, but not the kiss ass kind. I'm not one to blow smoke up someone's ass and that includes my child. I behave in what a I believe to be a realistic manner. I try to present my views with thought and logic yet lacking finality if the child wants to ask questions.

What intrigues me about the child is that she exhibits loads of adult behavior. Most notably, she goes to certain adults to talk about specific things. She'll give me the most basic of details concerning most of her school day but with Ian she becomes verbose and hurried. I don't mind talking about paganism with her so I'm okay with missing the frenized chat about a video game we don't even own. It works itself out, like most adult interactions. And she's only 9!

However speaking of customer service, I procured myself a part-time job working retail 4 days a week. It's very close to home, well within walking distance. It helps that I've been a customer, knowing the merchandise is fun and quirky, something my whole family is in to, build a lovely foundation of familiarity. As with all things, I go into this ready for anything and open-minded ... Wait, maybe I should stop that? All right, okay, gonna shake it off and go with something new. SAY! I know! I'll go as myself with my tattoos and my skull socks and Converse lo-tops, blue jeans and tee shirts, terry cloth wristbands and fuckin' Halloween themed earrings. I swear it's not a nerdy as it sounds. ;o)

I would also like to share the following:

Dear Jasmine,
Here is your horoscope for Tuesday, October 21:
You've got to think long-term now --
you're in a unique position to affect your future!
Even if you don't know exactly what you want
or how to get there, you can still make a good guess.

Sounds logical.

"You're just mad cus you're white!"

I'm on the email list for Brave New Films. In the most recent email, they discuss how horridly and blatantly racist a lot of the McCain supporters seem to be. It's footage you, or may not have seen already. I forwarded it to everyone, and I do mean everyone *grin*, on my address list. This included my ex-in laws, who live in Texas.

I added a line that read, "If you condone racism, hatred, and ignorance please do not read." To which my ex-mother in law replied with:

Jasmine, you are probably aware that I am against racism, hatred and ignorance. That is why I am voting for McCain. I know you will not understand, but I love America and find the attacks on Sarah and McCain extremely disgusting. This is the first time in years I will be voting Republican. Love You, Stormye

I guess she didn't actually read the email or watch the video.

I read her reply the first time really quickly and even clicked on delete before I finished. I read a few more emails, her reply nagging in my head, read some Twitter acitivity, and then went back to my Trash folder and pulled her email out. I read it with more focus and attention. I couldn't let it go. You know, I couldn't not reply. But what's the fun, or use, in that? I've been doing that for years where she's concerned. Held my tongue some would say while she pondered the lies, and may be some truths, about me, but she doesn't get to judge me. I put up with her unappreciative, disrespecting son for a number of years and it was always my fault that he was a shit sumbitch of a man. No, no ... I'm not holding my tongue anymore. I have as much right to speak my mind in a civilized and patient manner as anyone. I'm an adult and I can act like one, when it suits me.

My reply to her:

I respect your decision to use your vote in that capacity. Although I'm confused how you believe people yelling "Kill Him!" and calling Obama a terrorist is not behaving in a racist manner. But as long as you're not confused then you're vote will make sense. And actually no I'm not aware that you're against ignorance.

God bless.

--Jasmine

I'll admit that using the "god bless" was a jab of sorts. :o)

Email Subject:
1. Watch the video2. Sign the petition3. Send the video to your friends
We'd like to talk about the pressing issues facing our country: the woeful economy, rising unemployment, the housing crisis, and the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. But we can't talk about them because John McCain and Sarah Palin have distracted us with the politics of hate and fear.
Instead of discussing the real issues plaguing Americans, McCain and Palin have turned to fear-mongering and race-baiting, stoking the prejudices of their supporters. The situation has become so critical that we've teamed up with Color of Change to put an end to these dangerous mob scenes.
Watch the video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U5mdIPNB8t8
Things have gotten so out of control that some conservatives have come forward to denounce McCain and Palin's hate-mongering. In an Op-Ed for The Baltimore Sun, Frank Schaeffer writes: "John McCain: If your campaign does not stop equating Sen. Barack Obama with terrorism, questioning his patriotism and portraying Mr. Obama as "not one of us," I accuse you of deliberately feeding the most unhinged elements of our society the red meat of hate, and therefore of potentially instigating violence."
Here's how you can take action:
Sign the open letter calling on McCain and Palin to reject the politics of hate.
Sign up for a free video subscription and get the latest on the real McCain.
Send this video to yours friends, and post it on your blogs and networking sites like Digg, where it will effectively reach those outside the choir.
Don't let McCain and Palin undo the decades spent fighting for civil rights and equality in our country.
Yours,Robert Greenwaldand the Brave New team

------Brave New Films is supported by members like you, please consider making a donation. You can get all our latest videos via email, RSS, iTunes or YouTube here. To stop receiving updates from us, click here. We are located at 10510 Culver Blvd., Culver City, CA 90232 and info@bravenewfilms.org.

"Life is what happens while you're making other plans."

So I'm unemployed again. Perhaps not too much of a surprise considering all the weirdass bullshit, psycho drama from my ex-boss that you've heard about. My calling in sick two days in a row prompted my ex-boss to call me Friday afternoon on speaker phone. When I heard that distinctive hollow sound of someone speaking on the phone with the speaker instead of the handset I knew the point of the call and smiled. It was going to finally end and I could stop fretting. My ex-boss asked how I was feeling and I played along and told her exactly how my cold was going. She provided some sort of sound of acknowledgement, then mentioned the two other people in the room with her. It was the HR manager and the company controller.

Honestly, I wasn't sure why the big deal. I had only been there a month, well withn the 90 day probbie period. But there the three ladies sat, probably in the controller's office, which I could picture and it amused me. So full of themselves to the absolute end. Wow. If they only put that much energy into being fair and honest, imagine the greatness that could be done?! Not.

And so back to the job search I go. But it's okay. I've got some solid and sincere support from my family. My sanity wasn't worth it, seriously the older I get feel less inclined to compromise. Have I stated that before? Well then I must fuckin' mean it. :o)

"Those who doubt me suck cock by choice!"

I love my husband Ian for a lot of things. First, I can trust him. Simple as that. I've known him well over 10 years and I'd trust him with my child's life, as well as my own. I trust him to be honest with me. And in the honesty lies love for me I still can't wrap my brain around sometimes.

Currently I feel like a right wreck. I finally "manned up", so to speak, and went to the clinic, where I wound up waiting 3 hours for the doctor to tell me I have a bad cold and prescribe prescription strenth Sudafed. Wow. Really? It cost $80 too because I'm employed and make to much money. I didn't lie about my income because they want proof of your income. I did tell the consultant that I was going to go quit my job now so I could qualify for free medical assistance. She chuckled.

But I'm feeling like a wreck because of this cold that's taking for-fucking-ever to go away (I'm not usually this sick for this long, or so I think), and I hate my job, and now my lower back is hurting a lot and my aunt flo's in town. I feel the best solution would be to step in front of a bus. My luck I'd get maimed slightly but not qualify for disability because I'm too tall or my hair's too red.

And I keep pissing and moaning about my job to Ian. He's taking it in stride and being very supportive, from wanting to cut someone on my behalf or just eloquently stating the obvious. I love and appreciate his patience with me because I can be such a random bitch to him. He really keeps me sane most days, which must take a toll on his own sanity. I got the following email from him the other day and it really saved my soul.

Darling, i think the reason you sometimes feel down on yourself is because of all the bullshit you pick up on from all the other cocksuckers around you. Now, i'm not one who ascribes to a particular belief system, but you are incredible sensitive person(not the cry all the type sensitive) who, like it or not, picks up on the vibes(emotional, psychic, whatever) that people put out and because most people are vicious selfcentered, self-hating, repressive dickcheese eating monsters, you pick that up and not being that type of person, you don't have the ability to reflect it back at them. It's not a shortcoming on your part, it's a gift that, in addition to having a downside, it also allows you to instinctively know how to be comfortable and friendly and loving with a wide range of personalities and is one of the things that attracted me to you. I don't mean to vent but i want you to know that i get what you feel, as best i can, and that i'm here to help you however i can(even if it means shutting up for a bit if i get a bit vociferous).Now start heading home and i'll see you soon, Sugarlips.MWAAAH!

"And you're gonna be a funny little footnote on my epic ass."

Shoot me.
No really, seriously, somebody shoot me. Not to blatantly steal from Adam Sandler, but put a bullet in my head. This cough ... *sigh* I gotta admit that I think it's some kind of respiratory infection. I've had a couple before.

The first one I ever recall getting was from the first time I was arrested. The Phoenix jail was concrete and metal, with nothing resembling civility. It was more like a holding tank to truck off people to faraway places to dig tunnels for diamond mine owners. Actually that makes it sound a wee bit glamorous. The cops working the jail were so hideous in personality I felt sure that wrong people were locked up. After my inital arrest and processing, before being taken to lock up in the main downtown municipal tank, a female cop strip-searched me. She looked more like a gym teacher then a cop, well she looked like an angry gym teacher in a cop's uniform. She certainly reminded me of a teacher the way she demeaned me in regards to my tattoos. I couldn't be sure if she really meant what she was saying but neverless she was saying them. Her snide tone drawed out certain words. She confessed to the heavens that I was either stupid or a satan worhsipper. It really was ridiculous what she was saying, stuff one could easily brush off by waving a hand at someone like shooing away a fly. Except I was standing wearing only my bra and undies in a room with a complete stranger.

That gym teacher cop woman has reappeared a few times through my working life. She's reared her ugly head as a boss of mine at least four time, that I can think of. Well, it now seems she's rearing it a fifth time.

My boss called me into her office Thursday and in no uncertain terms told me I pissed her off. Those words. I was floored. My boss removed her glasses and crossed her arms, tilting back in her chair to glare at me, I shit you not, she said, "You really pissed me off earlier."

I felt my eyes widen and my bottom lip suck itself in so as not to saying anything. But I was truly taken off guard by this and so remaining contrite was a survival tactic. I think. Just the week before she told me, "Everyone loves you!" So what happened to the fuckin' love?

It suddenly seems that I'm not pulling my weight and that I should be further along in my tasks since starting my job 3 weeks ago. She was real uppity about it too. The expression "Shit rolls down hill" came to mind and I figured her boss (the controller) was getting in her face about month end stuff. But still I sat there with my snack of pre-packaged carrots and dip, fiddling the cello wrap corner, looking around, waiting for it to end. My boss went on to tell me that I don't seem happy so something's wrong because it's important that I'm happy. I need to exude friendliness and happiness regardless how I truly feel. It was such hypocritical bullshit that I began to wonder if she was crazy.

The company culture that was sold to me during my two interviews was about family first, work hard and playing hard, open-minded, march to our own beat, none of that corporate environment crap here! Okay, I don't want to be a total bitch and say these things aren't there. They're just not there for me. I feel so fuckin' duped and cheated my dislike for the place and my job cemented within those mere 10 or so minutes my boss tore me down. It had already started developing a week or so prior when I was told one of my new duties was to be a second back-up for the receptionist. And even though there is a guy working in the same Admin deptartment I am he does not have this responsibility. Only women do.

The next day my boss sent me this long email reiterating everything she spoke about the previous day. She needs to see improvement, there needs to be communication, I need to have follow through and be a go getter and take charge but be nice about it. She listed my duties in detail. I printed up the whole thing and stuck it on my cubicle wall. I highlighted the duties and prepared a to-do list from it. I spent the rest of my day, including my lunch, working on projects that suddenly were past due or overdue or coming due. Yes, pretty much everything. I'm also not allowed to use the internet at all except for lunchbreaks, to which I shall refrain from using even then. When she had me in her office she stated that in the span of 3 hours I had only processed 15 or so invoices. She demanded to know from me if I thought that was right. I stammered, one would having their merit called into question so rudely. I said, "No, no I did other stuff. I helped the controller with a few more inventory recounts."

"Yeah," she said as she shrugged with indifference, "but that was only like 20 minutes."

I was put on the spot and felt like that near naked 21 year old again, standing in a room with an insensitive angry stranger.

The amount of drama I've experienced lately is not something I'm use to. Last week's double dose of shitty drama and then my boss humbling me are just more then this only child can fuckin' take.

"We don't need no stinkin' badges!"

I was included in this email from the AR Specialist to the IT tech guy here at work,

Hi,
The receptionist will be on vacation from 10/2 – 10/6. I’ll be sitting up front the majority of the time but when I’m not, Jasmine will need to be sitting up front and will need Remote Desktop access just like I have so she has the ability to do her work from Jen’s computer.

Will you please get her all set up prior to 10/2?

Yay! Just what I was hoping for, to be in the receptionist role, again! It was sooooooooooo fulfilling when I was doing it at CarDomain. I can only hope that this time around it will be equally fulfilling.

"What we've got here is failure to communicate."

The child's due for some boots. The season has shifted causing a need to shop. It's a nice Saturday with hardly a chill in the air yet the sun is shining like a motherfucker, so this should put people in a good mood, especially those that like the sun. Or so I hoped and thought.

The child and I made our way out of the driveway and down the street made most narrow by all the cars parked along both sides. The first intersection has no stop signs yet I'm a freak and I stop (in fact, I stop everytime, there's just too many large vehicles parked that visibility is an idea more then a reality). We proceed through and make our way down to the end of the next block, which is where there is a stop sign and I plan on turning left.

I'm driving pretty damn slow, which is good because when the lady with the stroller pops out of the last driveway on the right I can make a solid stop. Stroller woman hesitates, squinting at me (I think), squinting as she looks up and across the street. I watch her cross the street and keep an eye on her because I'm just not sure why she's pushing her stroller into the street. I stop at the stop sign and I notice the jogger.

I notice the jogger because she's glaring at me and flipping me off. I roll my window down and say, "Excuse me?" To which the jogger replies, "Look both ways!" over her shoulder.

The jogger went around the back of the car to cross the street even though I hadn't pulled far enough up to the stop sign to block the sidewalk. Stroller woman is now also at the corner, still squinting I might add, and even the angry jogger has to go around her.

For some reason I'm compelled to tell the jogger that I was looking out for the confused woman with the stroller. The jogger replies with yet another finger. Look, I like flipping people off obviously as much as this crazy jogger but at some point you gotta stop. So the jogger jogs on, and I sit at the stop sign waiting for it to be safe and clear so I can pull out and make my left.

We drive by the jogger and I shout out my window, "Have a nice day!" Not surprising, she flips me off again, twice. "Thanks for flipping me and my kid off!" More of the finger. My smile drops, I hit the brakes and flip a bitch in the middle of the road. I pull into the alley entrance that the jogger is approaching and roll my window down again.

I'm not sure why I felt so fucking compelled to plead my case with this woman. As she approaches and removes her earplugs I say, "Look lady, no matter how much you jog you're an ugly person. The stroller lady popped out into the road moments before you crossed, I was concerned. Besides you can't just run across the road, why would you do that?"

"You need to look both ways! Get over yourself!" was the jogger's retort, which she repeated at least three times like a broken toy.

The moment left me and we parted. It wasn't thrilling to swing in on her and make my case, and still as I type this I'm uncertain why I would ever bother.

We finally arrived at Fred Meyer, which is only say 10 blocks away from home, and park. As the child and I stand at the back of our car to remove some resuable grocery bags the silver minivan next to us starts to pull out, much to the dismay of the green minivan already backing out behind it. The driver of the green minivan starts to honk furiously and the silver minivan driver stops and stares at me. I point to the van behind her and she pulls back into the parking space. Once the green minivan is fully backed out of the parking spot the driver starts honking aggressively again while the green minivan's passenger beats on the window and shakes a fist at the old lady driving the silver minivan. The child and I stand there watching it all.

"Hey okay, she gets it! Fuck off!" I shout at the green minivan. To which the green minivan's passenger opens her door and shouts at me to fuck off as well. See now, I've been sick for while and now I've got this horrid cold sore on my lip, plus my mind's tired and perplexed about my life in general so please do not be alarmed to know that this was the last straw.

The child and I got back in the car and I just sat there. I wanted to start bawling, tears did come up and just before they flowed there was a knock on my window. A woman who saw the altercation was there with a smile on her face. I turned on the car and put the window down.

"Good for you! Don't let those people get to you, you did the right thing."

I must've looked a bit shellshocked because she put her hand on my hand, which I hadn't realized I had rested on the window ledge until then. I told her that was the 2nd person to yell at me today. "I'm just gonna go home and try again later." She smiled at that, told me have a better day and, "I'm sorry that happened," before she went on her way.

I remained in the car for another 5, maybe 10 minutes before I got my shit together and went in. I certainly didn't want to come back later and that last lady's supportive, kind words, plus her sincere smile helped a lot. I apologized to the child for witnessing both outbreaks of drama.

The child patted me and said, "It's okay, at least we weren't driving a Subaru, then we'd be the assholes."

"Luuuuuccceeeeeeeeee! I'm home!"

I'm having the hardest time getting this post started. I've been sitting here for at least ten minutes just trying to title the damn thing.

I know I want to talk about the revelation about my new job. I know I want to discuss how utterly appalling it is to me, but I just can't seem to get my mind to simmer down now and focus. The predominant male culture of the company I now work for believe only women should answer the main incoming business phone line. I am now one of three women (there's the receptionist and the AR Specialist) who is meant to do this on a regular basis. My title is Staff Accountant.

I've been working for over 22 years and I'm still having to put up with prejudice bullshit and narrow-mindedness. This is not the company culture that was sold to me during my two interviews. The 50s a-woman's-got-her-place mentality just does not sit well with me at all. I'm all fidgety as I type this. I couldn't sleep-in today like I like to on Saturday mornings because I fucking deserve it.

I can't seem to get a break.

And then on the other side of that, I feel like shit for even bitching about this job. They way I lost my last job though ...

Well, suffice it to say I'm not going to apologize for being who I am. It's becoming increasingly harder and harder to compromise myself for other people who don't give a fuck about anyone but themselves. It's just becoming harder for me to be nice and friendly and interested when I get nothing in kind back, muchless a response.

So yeah, okay, maybe the 50s culture will suit me when I decide to finally say "Fuck it all!" and turn into a zombie like everyone else. I'll ignore you and only pander to my base needs and wants. I'll be icy and false. I won't want to know you or be your friend. I won't care.

*shakes head*

Oh man ... c'mon, I can't do that. I can't be that kind of hideous, humorless, asshole. It would be easy, don't get me wrong to be like everyone else. But I couldn't ulitmately live with myself.

I think what I really need to do is stop caring about what other people think of me. I like smiling and being friendly and outgoing. I also, in truth, like to flip people off and swear a lot, but only when the moment calls for it and someone's bring a douchebag. But my point is I like not being cold and unapproachable. I like being nicer then most people, because I don't want to be like most people, especially if they're so horrid.

"Without lamps there'd be no light!"

A week into the new job and all is well. My immediate supervisor is a busy woman resulting in a very hands off approach. But I am picking up on things, and luckily the company is pretty small so I shouldn't have too hard a time remembering who's who and all. Eveyone is friendly, and the company provides a ridiculous amount of free beverages. I took mean advantage of that with regards to the OJ as my week progressed.

Yes, I was getting sick. And yes, I am currently fighting off a mild, dare I say low grade cold. Ian's turned into a sinus infection requiring a trip to the doctor for antibiotics, and then a call to the doctor a few days later when no symptoms had really subsided yet chest pain had begun. I've been feeding my system a constant diet of Alka Seltzer, Sudafed, Tylenol (PM in the evenings), Bendryl, and generic Musinex all week. I'm like Hunter S. Thompson with over the counter cold meds. Pathetic.

Today was supposed to be a frolic in the sun at the Puyallup Fair, but in all honesty I shouldn't have even left the house. I really wanted to spend some time with the child, and she's been wanting to go to the fair for a few years now. Her school hands out passes every year, and every year I manage to poo poo the idea. The mere suggestion of doing things like attending a fair make me yearn for a mom friend.

And I only realized this weekend, driving out to Puyallup in lame ass traffic, only to scrap the plan because I was feeling quite shitty. If I had a mom friend I could've had someone to interact with me, and the child would have a friend along to really enjoy what she wanted to. I don't know anyone like that and just today I found out that it's something I've been wanting for a long time.

I have mom friends out of state that when I converse with them and hear about the family vacation or weekend I get all bummed that I couldn't have been there to witness it first hand. Or be a part of it. I now its silly and childish to feel this way and I don't care.

Just an Earthbound misfit.

You ever feel more then the sum of your parts? Your being? Feel your energy rise up from your skin? Have you ever looked up into the night sky and was lucky enough to see stars? Those stars eminating light from millions of years ago. Ago. As in from the past. I hope to be able to shine as brightly from the past when I'm long dead. Heck, not even long dead, just dead.





Life is really, and at times awkwardly, about moments. That moment you stare up into the night sky, able to see the fuzziness of our own galaxy in which our planet hangs magically in. That's a moment to be still and quiet for because it will allow you to handle other moments in life, those moments not so peaceful and sure. I'm sure for some it comes down to maturity and perspective, but at the end of the day, at the end of the universe, which is going to be a better memory?


Ian and I will have many excellent memories of our honeymoon. We were fortunate enough to be able to afford a 4 day stint in Maui, and along with some money gifts from the wedding we could also treat ourselves to a snorkeling excursion. I had thought about it for years, and Ian voiced excitement into wanting to do it too. The catamaran came onto the beach and single-file we ascended a little metal ladder between the twin hulls. We sailed north for about 45 minutes or so. The motion did jar me a bit but with the ocean spraying up through the net I was sitting on and the massive breeze I felt great. It even made me not feel my sunburn. Well almost.

We snorkled for at least 90 minutes, and afterwards enjoyed a really good hot meal on the boat. I had sustain more burning on top of my sunburn and by the end of the meal was itching to get out of my swim suit top. I went below to change and that's when the trouble started. The boat was backing out of Honolua Bay, for the most part, and the swells were intense when experienced from below. My nausea was stubborn and stuck with me the entire 90 minte ride back to the hotel, even after I puked over board. Hey, better out then in, yeah? The crew and ship owner were incredibly helpful and charming about the whole thing. Ian too. He held me the entire trip back, except for a few moments to take some photos.


Some other memories we'll have thanks in large part to family and friends donating money is a great dinner at Mama's Fish House and the Feast at Lele luau. Mama's Fish House is located a mile or so outside of Pa'ia, heading towards Hana. It's expensive but so damn tasty and good and filling that once in a lifetime is worth it. Ron, the bartender, made a new fan out of Ian by doing "talk story" about Teddy Roosevelt and tequila bottles designed by Chanel. Our Server, Heidi, was fantastic, helfpul, and courteous. Every bit of our food was magical and required picture taking. Ian's panang curry was loaded with ahi, opah, and mahimahi, while I just had the opah entree with soy glaze and avocado. It's all about the freshness there. They don't print up the menu until 45 minutes prior to opening their doors for dinner.

Ahi and kampaci sashimi with daikon and homegrown wasabi.

Soy glaze Opah with chutney and avocado.

Opah, Ahi, and MahiMahi Panang Curry.

Last, the luau was incredible. I had so much fun, and it was indeed a masterful show complete with singing, dancing, narration, conch-shell tooting, costume changes, and loads of drinks and food. The fire-knife dancer at the end was intense and looked like he would at any moment leap off the stage and stab one of the white people in the front row. But I was okay with that, since we were sitting about two rows back. We had two servers, both men, that wore native sarongs and woven leaf hats and leaves adorned in their hair. We were made to feel welcome, and after the dance finale the dancers roamed the crowd to take pictures and thank us. By then I had a decent buzz going on and I couldn't help the smile plastered on my face. We've been spoiled and wouldn't dream or dare to go to some buffet luau with 500 guests.

Why couldn't it have been butterflies?

Ian and I were married this past Saturday. I was a nervous wreck right up to the moment I found myself standing in the sun, in front of Ian, who looked so wonderfully handsome. At that moment I relaxed and let it go. I let go of the guilt of not being able to invite everyone in my life. I let go of the confusion brought on by angry feelings expressed from a few people I couldn't invite. I just let all that bullshit go, and quieted my mind and lived in the moment. Right up to the part that boat blasted its horn to celebrate the nuptials.

The weather played well with others, as did the guests. Interesting to see our two families and lives blend together, and trapped on a boat for 3 hours no less. Makes for a great conversation opener. "Say hello there, and welcome to the boat ... Uh, would you like a life jacket?" Or maybe more like, "I heard there's free booze."

The wedding went well, without any hiccups or real problems, though I did specifically state that I didn't want the pineapple wild rice. No one fell off the boat, or fell in general because you know the older I get the older the people in my life are too. My mom is getting closer to finally getting her fucking hip replacement surgery (is there an Olympic event for most stubborn?) so she currently can be fixed. But the doorways, being on a boat and all, sheesh, have a lip to step over, or in my case trip over as often as possible and play it off to the nearest person who saw you trip for the tenth time that you did that to remind everyone to step over that.

Afterward, Ian and I had a room at the downtown Sheraton.
One of my mom's coworkers got us a great upgrade to a corner room in the new tower. The view was straight down Union St. to the water, and then West Seattle beyond. Instead of a closet, the room had a dressing room nook with an armoire and shelves. Okay, I have to admit that was cool. There was also a fuck-ton of rose petals strewn throughout the entire hotel room, including the bathroom and tub. Ian kept telling me stop picking them up but I really couldn't help it. Especially the next morning when they were all severely wilted and brown, and looking like fresh, wet scabs.

Note the mostly consumed chocolate covered strawberries and open champagne bottle in the picture, but more importantly note the flower arrangement. It now sits on my TV stand.

Sometimes It's Hard to be a Woman

4 days from this moment Ian and I will be married. I'm so excited. He is going to be a great husband, and dad. Though my mom still has some reservations, which brought on a firm discussion about Ian not being like my ex at all, or for that matter, Ian is not like most men or women. He's a work in progress, sure! But what man isn't?

I'm not sure why my mom should worry about me getting married for a second time when she herself has been in a second marriage for 28 years, though 13 years ago my mom moved away never to return. She should really get a divorce. But maybe she's scared to be considered a divorcee . . . again. Or maybe she clings to it as part of her identity, though she'd never admit it.

My mom's tough as nails and will chew you up with wit and genius sarcasm, but at the same time she's probably the most sensitive person I know. Even more sensitive then me. In fact, watching how she reacts to some topics and discussions has caused me to look at myself and react differently, resulting in not being highly sensitive.

I love my mom, no question of course, and it pains me while at the same time pisses me off how she's hobbled around for years now fearing surgery, or fearing losing her job, whatever her fear is I want it to show it's fuck-ugly face to me so I can bitch slap it and my mom can get on with doing what's right and more importantly what's necessary. She has a doctor's appointment (FINALLY!) this coming Thursday with an orthopedic surgeon and I bet he takes one look at her wee swollen feet and her x-ray clearly showing no tissue around the hip joint area he'll want to fix her right then and there. Well at the very least, it's what SHOULD happen.

I'm the dude playing a dude disguised as another dude.

I got a job. Yep, a young company down in Tukwila decided I was their woman for the job. Their motto, "We hire personalities, and train skills." Well I've got loads of personality, shiiiiiiiiiiiit!

I will get experience as a staff accountant to utilize my existing skills as well as build new ones. I'm so fucking excited to be able to work with people who want me around.

Now the rub will be the commute. It's about 40 minutes, give or take, from my house to the job. I haven't commuted like that since I lived in Arizona over 11 years ago. Can I do it? Well I think I can do it, I know a lot of other people who make long ass commutes for the sake of a great job. Why should I be any different? It's not like I'm too good to work for awesome people who ask me to sing for my interview. Because if I was feeling that I was too good to go work for these people then I would suddenly find myself acting like the same fuckwad assholes who treated me with hostility and prejudice at some of my previous jobs. And I really just, simply, can't let happen.

You win some, you bruise some

Just got the "volunteers needed" email from the volunteer coordinator for the Rat City Roller Girls, Rebel Belle. Ian will be disappointed, maybe, that he won't be able to direct traffic and wear the fluorescent orange, reflective vest. But the child and I can volunteer, pass out programs like before. Now I know where the extras are, and there are extras. The child will be thrilled, and with Ian gone this weekend on his bachelor excursion to "camp" on Friday Harbor, I'll need the child to have another outlet.

I also heard that I didn't get the Gates Foundation 90-day temp job. I think it would have been a good thing to have on my resume but only 90 days? Ugh, blech, blah, maaaaaaaa...

Yeah, looking for a job is hard fucking work, and I'm lucky to get the support from my family and friends, so it can be doubly shitty to not have anyone to root you on. Even with the love, my morale is lagging. I've done Wii fit less, and I don't even care. All I can think about it is crawling back into bed. I have to work hard to stay out of my bedroom when I'm home. I spend a lot of time online job hunting. The sort of job I need doesn't typically advertise with Help Wanted signs in the window. Nope, most accounting jobs are posted on job boards or managed by a third-party agency. I'm signed up with one of these agencies and the results have been mixed.

The first week I signed up with Accountants, Inc, including driving out to Bellevue to do a meet and greet in person with the temp manager and the direct hire manager, Shane Makanani sent me an email with a job description asking if I was interested in applying for a certain AP position. I read the details and called Shane to personally tell him that "Yes, I'm interested, please submit my resume." So on 7/24/08 I have an interview with two different men for the same AP position; four days later I have a third interview with someone else, and then surprise! A fourth interview with a yet another person. After that a week nearly goes by and Shane, the recruiting agency rep, hasn't contacted me about anything. In fact, I sent him an email after that 3rd and 4th interview letting him know it went well and he didn't even respond to that.

Needless to say, I have to initiate ALL the contact, seriously all of it. It's like being married to Paul again. Unrewarding. I sent Shane an email this morning because it's been since 8/1/08 that I've heard from him, and yes because I sent him a snotty email basically asking him what the hell his problem was and can't he email or what! Today's email wasn't as snotty, but perhaps more so haughty.

Hi Shane,

My name is Jasmine McKenzie and back at the end of July, I had 4 interviews at Sellen. I have not heard from you since Friday, August 1, 2008. I think at this point it is safe to say I did not get the Sellen job. I would like to hear from you still, possibly provide feedback if there is any. I'm not sure why you feel no need to communicate with me, but I promise that I won't bother you any more if you could just give me some feedback from the time I spent at Sellen. Thanks!

--- Jasmine McKenzie

Will the real Slim Shady please stand up?

I've been doing quite a few interviews lately, to no avail, but this has provided me an opportunity to really hone my skills at bullshitting my talents. I'm not telling them things like I invented the internet or I have a sex tape of Chris Farley (I really don't). But I have been interviewing with several different personality types who have to be handled differently aacoridng to their own specifications. A different cadence of speech, or age, or dress and demeanor.

It all makes me feel like a schmuck and reminds me that I like my drama most when it comes from the TV.

Don't Get Lost in Heaven

Unempolyment is not it's cracked up to be. Some people do this for a living, like my ex. But I have ethical issues while applying and while using government funds to help me get by. And of course no surprise the government feels the same way about me, well sort of. I'm not allowed to ask the government to come down to a center and spend 3 hours being lectured on why they can't seem to govern after all it's a government. I'm talking about going to a mandatory workshop for employment security, where I have to present proof I've been job searching. I've got an Aug. 7 appointment which has lit a fire under my job searching ass. I've already got 4 submissions so far this week. And I signed up with a recruiting agency, but that's only yielded one interview.

So in the meantime, I remain positive as possible by being a productive member of my family. Speaking of which I'm doing laundry and need to get myself to the grocery store sooner then later today. And I'm waiting to get a call back from the lady at the recruitment agency, who called when I first started typing this. I have since, obviously, called her back only to leave her a message. She's from the temp side of the agency but I'm starting to freak out about being jobless so if it pays ... I'm in. Damn! I hate being so easy!

It's a nice day for a white wedding.

Though my dress will be blue and today's not the actual day. I am, however, going for my dress fitting today, which is sort of surreal hence me asking along a few good friends. I need to remember my strapless bra and my shoes (which are way cut slip-ons with a nice, shiny silver buckle on the toe area, and a blue Delft foral china pattern).

My first wedding had me two weeks shy of being due and so my dress options were drastically limited. I wound up with this real pretty, flowy white dress with large purple flowers on it. I was barefoot with braids and flowers in my hair. My marriage partner at that time chose to wear a kilt. We looked like two people meant for two different weddings, and uh, yeah in retrospect ... it was so true.

Take this job and shove it!

I've got an interview on Thursday with a construction company. It's an accounts payable position with decent pay, or so they told me. The job description had a lower annual salary listed on it, but hey I'm out of work I shouldn't be picky right?

Wrong.

And it's not the pay I should be picky about, it's the organization. And it's the people who would manage me that I'm going to be picky about.

I've gotten to a point that I'm not willing to compromise for nothing anymore. I'm aware of courtesy and a commonality that co-workers and managment share but I'm not willing to be the ONLY participant to modify their behavior to suit the situation or the person of authority. I know it sounds arrogant, and trust me I've thought about this for a long time, but I'm not arrogant. I'm fed up. I'm done taking the piss for assholes who don't like me for me. I'm not an ass-kisser ... well okay, I am but I kiss ass by working hard and being a great employee. I get fuck all for that, lemme tell ya.

So I'm holding out for a job that will provide me the salary I'm accustomed to (more or less), but mostly I'm going to hold out for THE job ... THE job that will employ me now and not make me hate humanity anymore then I already do.

After my limited stint in the corporate arena, I've concluded that I deplore large companies that relegate their employees to just faces on a massive staff list. Those people are better then that and deserve more. Like me. :o)

Bodies are for hookers and fat people.

I finally broke out the Wii fit yesterday. I'm 53 in Wii years. That would be a 17 year difference, lovely.

I proceeded to do 32 minutes of various Wii exercises. The hula hoop exercise I'm starting to feel in the right side of my abs. I was pretty good at the ski jump. I need to work on my balance says my vitural trainer, which is an eerie mannequin-like figure on the screen with a ... ponytail.

Ugh! I was doing fine yesterday, trying to keep my balance on that board and then I saw it. I saw the weird protrusion from the back of the virtual trainer's head. I rolled my eyes. Rolling my eyes seems to be directly linked to my balance. I merely stumbled but c'mon! A ponytail?! That's a joke. I'm not sure why it bothers me, but it does. Perhaps I have some suppressed memory of tiny ponytails on men, because I'm now thinking that in general when I'm out and about if I see a man with a tiny ponytail I want to rip it from their skull. But in a nice way.

I'm going to pick the female trainer next time and see what silly thing is sticking out from her virtual head.

Now I gotta cut loose!

Okay, feet intact and no weird fungal outbreak. In fact, the place was waaaaaaaaay better then I expected. I had some time to kill before leaving for the pedicure appointment so I looked it up on Yelp, mostly because map access is quicker for me. However, what took me a bit by surprise was the high number of negative Yelps this spa place had received. Low marks for customer service, ambiance, environment, sterile, hospital-like ... well you get the idea, and so did I.

But when I arrived I was greeted and had a comfy wicker chair to sit in while I waited. They also discounted my pedicure due to having my appointment rescheduled. I was floored. Appointments get cancelled and rescheduled all the time, all over the world. One is taking place right now. But to provide a discount for what I come to think of as a regular occurrence? Are these people mad? My $56 signature pedicure was marked down to $39. Oh now, you're paying attention?

The young, tiny woman who gave me the pedicure was super skilled and talkative, but not gabby or annoying. I sat in a giant, avocado green plush, vinyl chair with my feet resting in a nice warm foot soak tub. She clipped and snipped, filed and trimmed, sanded and swore ... okay she didn't swear, but she did sort of scold me for walking around barefoot outside. She was extra cute for that. She also massaged and lotioned, rubbed and soothed my feet with such care that I'm trying real hard to keep my word to her about walking barefoot.

Thanks for the gift card, Jen. I'm just sorry it took me so long to use it.

Don't be tellin' me about foot massages! I'm the foot fuckin' master!

I have these moments of sincere intentions which wind up making me look like an ass. Last summer I received a gift card for a spa here in Seattle, and promptly left it at my friend's house, where I received it. Once I had it, I tucked it away for safe keeping. The idea of actually calling up the place to make an appointment escaped me. I can be dense sometimes, not all the time, just sometimes.

After a few months of being securely tucked away I came across it and idiot that I am, I squirreled it away again. So yeah, left it behind, lost it twice.

So when I found it yesterday while cleaning I didn't hesitate to call up and make an appointment.

I initially had it for today at 12:45pm, but rescheduled for 2:45pm (the child's summer care put on a "performance" of Dr. Suess' The Sneeches). While at the child care, the spa called to reschedule me for 7:45pm tonight. Ooookay, so if you don't here from me it's because I've gone ape shit crazy and slaughtered the people at the spa because I have a feeling I'm going to show up and they've never heard of me.

Would you like fries with that?

Applying online for unemployment was eerily easily and I've been waiting for a scolding phone call from the office of employment security, but none came. I made my first weekly claim in a timely manner, also online, and that went different. Not so easy, but not tough.

There's a part about claiming pay in lieu of notice and I'm sure this meant the severance so I admited to that and even entered an amount, though I sort of made it up. Of course the system prompted me to call right away, which I did, and came across the nicest government worker ever. No, I'm serious.

I explained why I was calling and she was very friendly and chipper, hardly the kind of person that typically works for the state. She happily told me that I don't need to claim my severance, since it's a goodwill gesture from my previous employer. I asked her to repeat herself at least three more times, to which she did but not before giggling. She also stated that she was noting in my file (oh sweet hell, I've got a fuckin' file) that I called about the severance and that she (Beth ... or was it Bess?) told me that I did not have to claim it. FINALLY some goddamn good news for a change!

Of course on the flip side of that, the child and I were able to get rescheduled dental appointments for this month as my previous employer is dropping my coverage at the end of July and in that rescheduled cleaning it was discovered that the child lost a filing on one of her baby teeth. I hate hearing that, really I do. It's like solid evidence that I'm a shitty parent because my kid has cavities. I'd scream to the heavens and in a shouting manner draw out the name Kahn, but I won't. Even with severance I'm not typically able to toss out $152 all willy nilly like, but then my child's teeth aren't willy nilly are they? Of course they are baby teeth ...

Funky Boss! Get off my back!

I think it is very safe to say that I may have been a bd boss in one of my previous lives, and more specifically I was a bad woman boss. I've come to this conclusion not because of some freak fascination with being treated like a lower form of life. No, I've only come to this conclusion because jobs that come witha female boss tend to come and go for me. Most recently, go.

I'm not sure if it's a Seattle thing, though some, perhaps many, would argue that it is a Seattle thing. Regardless, I can sum up my Seattle job experiences that involved women bosses and safely say they don't like me. There was the smoke shop with the woman owner AND a woman boss. Then there was the too much information, too young gal from the dress shop, and the crazy perm bitch from the costume shop. The costume shop had a few mean women bosses for me to work with and through. After that was the paranoid, hypocrondriac at the online retailer, followed by the bitchy elitist also at the online retailer.

The most recent business I worked for I held two jobs. My finance job brought me into the company. That lasted 21 months. About 3 and half months ago I transferred into another division of the business. My finance boss was a man who was flexible and didn't care that I was a single mother. There was never any hostility, well there was during end of the month but that wasn't because of me. :o)

Working for the male boss was less stressful then working for any female bosses I've endured over the years. However my male boss wasn't one for growing, especially allowing opportunites for his team to grow. He had a lot on his work plate but never shared the work load and so the other ladies I worked and myself were left with the same boring stuff day in and day out. Transferring to another department was a lazy lateral move on my part, and ultimately my undoing.

Everyone was concerned about the VP of the new department I was moving into. "She's hardcore!" "She'll tear you up" "She drives a Pacer." Okay, that last one I made up but only to make a point about absurd everyone's fears were, because in fact the person they should have warned me about was the person who was going to be my direct boss, and who would also decide that "effective immediately ... terminating the Associate Client Services position ... and though [I] worked hard [they] were looking for someone with more strategic thinking."

*blink*

It's a good thing and I'm better off not putting up with the latest female boss's hostile, discriminatory, elitist bullshit anymore. I can't pick my bosses, but I can be wary and on guard. I'm on to this bad female boss thing so I just need to learn how to use it to my advantage.

I'm a porn-dealing monster, what do I care what you think?

One topic, other then religion and politics, can piss me off just as much as it can amuse me. The Weather. The goddamn, motherfucking weather. For some reason humans prefer to bitch, complain, and whine most about an element, an action, a function that they will never be able to control or manipulate. Yes, there it is. The bitching.

Usually, I'm humored by the way screwheads yammer on and on about how its cold in Seattle in June. I'm humored by this behavior because it only cements my ideas that humans basically suck cosmic dick and are the biggest assholes ever. But lately it's not so fucking funny. It's getting old and boring yet no one will shut up about it.

Why not bitch about the gas prices? Why not bitch about having to BUY those damn canvas shopping bags (when in fact they should be free because HELLO! eco-friendly self-promotion makes the Seattlites spring boners galore).

Now I realize that me bitching about people bitching is moot, but fuck you. It's my goddamn blog and just be happy I'm not posting picutres of my child's nostrils. No seriously, be glad.

Humans cannot control or change anything having to do with atmospheric pressure so let's drop it, okay? Life is too short and fucked up to worry about the weather. When I go to the child's child care to pick her up after school, and even to drop her off before school, and the weather isn't so lovely or nice, the kids don't make a squeak or peep about it. It's negligible in their world and has little to no baring on how good or bad their day will be.

I miss being a kid. A lot.

Death becomes her ...

Ian's mom passed away this weekend. We've been experiencing the immiment sadness for awhile, but still it seemed so sudden. Ian and his brother went up to see her last Tuesday, staying through and leaving late Wednesday afternoon. And on Friday, when we think back, there seemed to be many signs relating to Katherine. We toasted her during our daily routine of tequila shots before dinner. Stopping at Fred Meyer on the way home Friday night, my mom picked up a DVD copy of the fourth Star Trek movie to buy, but I poo-pooed the idea at the time. Star Trek was Katherine's all-time favorite TV obsession. Ian's phone conversation with his mom Friday night where she kept repeating "good-bye" but Ian only took it to mean her drugs were kicking in.
It's interesting to be at this point where all I can think to say to Ian is that his mom is not hurting anymore and her soul is peaceful now. I don't believe in God, nor do I believe in Heaven or Hell. But what I do believe is that a soul such as Katherine's is being honored by not having to deal with cancer anymore. Peace of mind and soul is what I believe in when a person dies.
Okay, I also believe in reincarnation but I'm still feeling that out and it has no baring on this entry. At this time.

"I fly like paper, get high like planes. If you catch me at the border I got visas in my name."

The age of technology has brought about an even smaller world then the one I went to high school in. And speaking of high school, the individuals who have "found" me, though I don't recall being lost, are good people and have good things to say about me, which of course is not hard to do.

It is hard for me hear nice things about myself. It has always been hard for me to hear nice things about myself. But I promise to stop that stupid behavior and embrace the yummy things people say about me. Take my afternoon for example. I went to my friend's dress shop in downtown Seattle to get fitted for a dress to wear when I wed Ian. I tried on several dresses, even some fancy white wedding ones that were pretty but looked very odd on me. I do insist, for the record, that the young lady who looked 16 looked for more off then me trying on wedding dresses. Live at 5! FLDS in Seattle shopping!

Jen, the dress shop owner and friend o' mine, was very helpful. I told her specifically the style I was hoping and looking for (August wedding gonna need a nice summer-type dress to the knees). We walked around the shop while she pulled dresses from racks and hooks. How many? 8? 10? Sheesh, I dunno, but in the end what came about was a mish-mash of a couple styles. Gotta work on my arm curls and back lifts so for my fitting in July I'll look smoking hot! Well, hot enough to pull it off. It's really all I'm asking for.

Now the hard part. I need a strapless bra.

He'll keep calling, and calling ...

Why do people hit a button, such as an elevator button, that is lit up an obviously telling that it has already been pressed?

Why do people hit the cross walk button a million times, when one really does it because it is based on some sort of pressure thing?

Why do the people entering the breakroom and the restroom at work barrel in instead of let me out in a peaceful calm manner?

I'll tell you why. Because most people are too self-centered to realize that they are participating in life along with many others.

I'd love to pull these people aside when I see them, grab them by their collars, put them up against a wall and say, "Trust me when I tell you that you are not the only fuckhead traveling on the metro bus through downtown, or the only douchebag needing to get on the elevator ro cross the street. And though viewing your death because you were either too ignorant and arrogant to know better and crossed against the light would be highly entertaining, it will also be outstandingly stupid."

But I typically just roll my eyes, turn up the volume on my iPod and curse them as they move by in their bubble.

Does Marsellus Wallace look like a bitch?!!

Ian's having a sleep therapy session tonight. He'll sleep while wires attached to his forehead and chest, and up his nose. It's hot, oh yeah.

I keep joking with him that he'll come back with a large stitched wound on his forehead with a dull look in his eyes. I shouldn't say shi like that in all honesty, well I shouldn't say it as long as I do. I tend to start believing my own bullshit.

Speaking of bullshit, what's with people not waiting for the proper crosswalk sign to illuminate. I stand at the corner and watch pedesterian after pedesterian cross against the light, and sometimes mere feet from the actual crosswalk. I'm going to be a hypocrite for a second that I do think that crossing against the light is okay during real shit weather and a seedy corner, but other times not so much. The length of time between lights is not that long so it just confirms, yet again, how impatient people are. But is that really news?

What's more real then Reality TV?

I've been religiously watching The Biggest Loser this season. It's been about 4 months and there's still two women in the game. It's probably not likely that either one of them will win, but I'd love for a woman to win it. It takes women twice as long and they have to work twice as hard to lose weight so in all fairness they deserve to win more so then the another man.

I'd be thrilled to have a personal trainer like Jillian Michaels kicking my ass into healthy shape. That woman gets the job done, lemme tell ya! I checked out her website and I could join her website but I hate being committed like that. Yes I'm aware that's counter-productive to losing weight but I am who I am. And I'm not Popeye.

Another reality show I enjoy is Top Chef, though the current season is still strange to me and I can't sand any of them. I have come to realize that I like Tom Collichio a lot, and if the show's judges were only him and Anthony Bourdain I'd be happy.

When I was in San Francisco back in the beginning of February, I got my haircut by a charming gal at Karmalaspa. She told me that the show Shear Genius had put out a call to local hair stylists to apply to be on the next show. I was excited for her. I really liked that show. It had very nominal drama and everytime someone was voted off by the judges they were very pleasant about it followed by lots of hugging. So that will be fun to watch again.

Also another show I like to watch that is purported to be reality TV is Workout (hmmm, I get the feeling that besides the The Biggest Loser on NBC my shows live on Bravo). A new season finally starts next week and I'm thrilled! Last year a good friend and colleague died suddenly and Jackie still hadn't fired that assclown Brian. But the previews look juicy! So there's my drama fulfillment, otherwise keep it interesing and inpsiring, but keep the bitchin' to a minimum (probably why this past season of Project Runway was my favorite = hardly any drama at all).

You got peanut butter on my chocolate!

I can't stop twirling my hair. Clearly it's a nervous habit, and honestly it's one I've had for years. But the last few weeks I've been twirling my hair a lot. So am I more nervous then usual? I really don't feel it. Sure I started a new job but I was over-twirling my hair weeks before the actual start date. Maybe the impending new job caused my system to do a minor freak out thus triggering my adolescent hair twirling fixation.

Well whatever you want to call it, it fuckin' pisses me off most times.

See, right there! I paused my typing to twirl my hair. Though I will admit while I was twirling I was thinking about my post, but now I've lost the thought ... Hmmm, maybe if I twirl ...

Nope, just the Good Morning Baltimore song from Hairspray goes through my mind.

Well clearly I'm not really traumatized by anything out of the ordinary traumatizations. So I shall continue to thwart this weirdo obsession I seem to have with twirling my hair.

Speaking of weirdo obsessions, one of my new colleagues asked me about Disneyland. I change my wallpaper on my work computer a lot, and the constant theme is Disneyland. Specifically Disneyland, not any characters per se (though I adore the villains more often then the heroes) but like Sleeping Beauty's castle is such an iconic structure to me I can never really shake its image. Before today my wallpaper was this fantastic map illustration of the park from 1958.

http://www.crocco.net/blog/images/dland1958b.jpg

I'd post the actual image buuuuuuuut I can't seem to get it to post here instead of at the beginning of the entry so there's the link. Please check it out.

But after a week I needed to see some castle and I found this pretty nifty scene of Sleeping Beauty's castle lit up with fireworks behind it.

http://welcometosocal.com/tickets/images/1.Castle50nite_000.jpg

Turns out my colleague is also an obsessive fan of Disneyland and I am not alone in my new work environment. I have fellow weirdoes to co-miserate with and giggle along side of. Yay new job!

Snakes. Why'd it have to be snakes?

I start week 2 tomorrow with my new job. I started the new position last Monday, same company new role. I was shown a lot of Excel spreadsheets, and I do mean a lot. I'm familiar with Excel, and used it daily while in college, but not so much in the general workforce. I have created basic reports, and used more complex reports with imbedded formulas to calculate stuff for the Finance ladies. But was shown to me was a whole new thing. I figure with one report shown to me, if it were a paper map you'd be unfolding it for days. Seriously.

But I'm not daunted, and I'm happy to report that I've already had a moment of "What the fuck?!" back on Thursday. It wasn't a vocal moment, just in my head. Poor head. That reminds me I need to bring along more Tylenol for week 2.

We watched I am Legend today and I enjoyed it a lot. We got is from Netflix so there was no 2nd disc to view the alternate ending, or perhaps alternate cut of the film. Ian read the book, and I think I will now too. I'm into stuff about the end of humanity. I try to help keep me humble.

Recurring zombie dream #98

I've been having recurring dreams about zombies and an invastion by zombies for years now. They're not nightmares as I never feel scared when I wake up or during the course of the dream. Usually I am separated from my immediate family and my purpose in the dream is to get to them. A few have had the same location of a highrise appartment complex. I watch the zombie carnage from the safety of 20 floors up. But my zombie dream last night was different.

I wasn't separated from my family and I was in the same house as I live actually in. There wasn't an overall sense of full blown zombie chaos and hysteria. In fact, as I was explaining my dream to Ian it was more of a Ghost Hunters meets Shaun of the Dead meets CSI. Oh and Seth Rogan was Ian's brother.

My family and I, along with a small group of zombie guerilla fighters, would listen to news reports and watch media feeds for any weird reoprts of multiple deaths that couldn't be readily explained. You know as I type this I think there may have also been elements of the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer as well. The dialogue in my dream was quick and witty, loaded with sarcasm and hoakiness.

But back to the dream.

Seattle in my dream was different, but not my house or the street I live on. My dram Seattle had the bay extending all the way through the city to Lake Washington, and so larger ships would sail right through the city to the dock in Lake Washington. Very weird when I visual the mapping.

And there wasn't hordes of zombies. The government though aware of zombies and quick to clean a scene, would always forget one zombie or possible zombie virus laced fluid residue. In my dream, we investigated a house that the news reported 4 deaths at. There was no reason given to why 4 people were dead and so this triggered our sensors. When we entered the burned out home (once the government dispatched the zombies they would burn the stucture) we see charred remains of family photos still on the walls and recognize the family to be Asian. This cultural revelation traiggers a flashback scene in my dream where the origin of how a zombie came to be in the house began. The youngest daughter worked at a brothel/burlesque where she was exposed to the virus that would ultimately turn her into a zombie and attack her family.

When the dream comes back to the current moment of being in the burned out house, the zombified grandma comes out the dark and advances on me. Without pause or fright, I pull my shotgun only to land the shot in her shoulder, knocking her down. She gets up pretty fast and my shotgun jams. I can't get the next shot to go off, but I'm not bothered or worried. I'm not alone. I have a group of people with me and it's one grandma zombie. Ian's arm comes over my shoulder and he shoots her forehead off.

My dream tells me that no matter the conflict or trouble, I'm secure that I have a team working with me and that I don't have to face anything alone. It also tells me I trust and believe in my relationship with Ian more now then ever before. It also tells me that Seth Rogan being Ian's brother wouldn't be a bad thing. He got along with the child really well.