Subtle Glow

Seriously - does everything have to vibrate now?  I thought it was a bit much when they did it with toothbrushes.  Mascara wands, really?  Don’t they realize it’s hard enough not to accidentally poke myself in the eye, forcing my eye to involuntarily squint shut, thereby smearing wet mascara under my eyes and basically forcing me to start OVER.

That and glitter in deodorant.  WTF?

You may have heard about the earthquake we had yesterday.  Just a little shaky rumble in this area, the first that was noticeable in quite a while.

Eventful, sure.  Setting the tone for the rest of the day, however, was more jarring than the slight rock’n'roll feel on the second floor of my office building yesterday.

In fact I’d say the silly little earthquake was pretty much overshadowed by my ensuing mental spun-outness.  I’m blaming the quake for that, but still.  I was all ‘ho-hum’ outside and ‘bzzzt! blrrrrrt! bbbllllltt!’ on the inside.

So then.  I walk into a meeting to be greeted with a little bit of a group admonishment from the meeting organizer (also my direct boss) about how this meeting doesn’t occurr that often and is for everyone’s benefit and we really need to make it a priority.  My cell phone promptly rang forcing me to step outside to answer it.

The call itself was from a home security company, and when they first identified themself I assumed it was a sales call and immediately put on my face of contempt for telemarketers who call during work hours, immediately following this I felt like a complete ASS because they were calling to inform me that my friend’s burglar alarm was set off and they were unable to reach her or anyone else above me in the phone tree, and should they dispatch the authorities?

Uhmmm, yes. “Please go ahead and do that,” I tell them.  They let me know once the authorities arrive that if they need someone to respond they will again go down the phone tree.  “Ok,” I say and hang up.  Call friend, leave message, stare dazed at phone for a few minutes wondering what to do next. Return to meeting.

Discussion has ensued in my absence about validity of meeting and how people are always ditching it, etc.  Still, with the meeting attendance?  Still, with the wondering why people find reasons not to go?

Phone rings again.  Caller ID shows it’s security company.  I weigh my options.  Decide to let it go to voicemail as I really shouldn’t bail on this meeting at this point.

Return to desk after meeting, check email, receive notice of insufficient funds available in one of my bank accounts.  Eyes widen, wondering What in the fuck? and then promptly narrow, realizing it is probably my (limited time labeled [let’s hope] ‘jackass’) brother who has been spending money he put in the account to pay me back that he really shouldn’t be spending to begin with, not to mention spending MORE than what is in the account.

Draft a text message of wordy and really bitchy lecture and remember: Goddamn it, today is his birthday, and I don’t want to have to be *like this* to him on his birthday, but then again I don’t really want him to run all yippy skippy spending more of the money he doesn’t have out of an account in MY name…   Delete draft of text message, IM friend to say OMG I am packing up I need to leave immediately can I call you before I lose my shit???

She has first customer in hours right as I send message so am left with rising annoyance at brother’s jackassery and how to put a quick stop to it before additional charges apply.  Send very short text: bank account overdrawn. pls stop withdrawing from it.

Meanwhile the voicemail from the security company nags at me.  I decide it’s worth driving over to her house to just see what’s what. No answer on her cell again.  Realize I don’t have her new work number, I call our former employer and track down a colleague to see if he has her work number but no luck there.  Sadly I haven’t talked to him in ages but have to quickly explain I don’t mean to be rude but there may be some trouble may be lurking nearby and I don’t have time to chat.

By this time the customer has left and my friend is calling and I’m telling her about the jackassery at which point I start to question who is the jackass?  I opened the account in my name for him because no bank will give him an account due to his credit.  As I’m talking I’ve made two wrong turns trying to get to her house and still avoid a myriad of construction cone zones in the three blocks between me and her house.  Call information to try to reach her at work: voicemail.
I get there and the front door is open but the security screen is locked tight.  Ask around to the neighbors, all seem mildly concerned but probably as baffled as I am about what to do.  Phone calls made trying to reach someone who knows someone who might know her boyfriend’s number…  no luck.

Finally I call the security company back to ask what the authorities found or if someone maybe ‘fessed up to accidentally setting off the alarm.  No, still a mystery.  After that I figure I’ve done what I could and head home, trying one last time to call her cell phone and let her know what’s going on.  She answers, and I relate the entire last two hours of my calling and tracking her down (as I’ve pretty much just done here, minus the parts about the earthquake and the jackassery) and tell her, “I know it’s been a while since I’ve seen you, but really it’s not necessary to go to such lengths to get me to come over.”  She gets home and confirms that a quick second-thought about which door to leave from meant the front door was unlocked.  Either the little quake jumbled it ajar, allowing the wind to blow it open and trigger the alarm.
Once I’m home, grab a plate of crackers, cheese, cold cuts and a bottle of wine, all of which were consumed in their entirety.  Go to bed and clench jaw all night long, waking with sore face and aching head. Mistake the day for Thursday and take the morning off thinking I have to work late tonight for month-end, only to realize while waiting in the 10-car queue for the drive-thru Starbucks that, OH FUCK.

It’s only the 30th and not the 31st.

I’m not sure if I mentioned before I abandoned this blog that last December we adopted a cat from the local shelter.  Buster is feisty and full of personality and - mostly - he is a sweet cat and a great addition to the household.

Unfortunately.

The time has come for the cat to part ways from our family.  He has a very unfortunate habit of not using his litter box at times.  It’s one thing if it is the floor, or the carpet, which is not ideal but mostly you can clean it up and move on. The first time happened while I was away on a business trip for two weeks.  My brother and Kiddo were home, doing their daily routine, so essentially the only thing different was that I was not there.  The day before I flew home from that trip, I received the dreadful news that the cat had used *my bed* as his choice spot to urinate.

PISSED.  That word not only describes what he did, but it also scratches the surface of how I felt about it.  I was furious, but even then, through the murderous rage I was feeling, I attributed it to the fact that I was gone, and I’ve heard that sometimes cats do that kind of thing.

Until yesterday.

Last night I went to climb in bed for the night and found that he DID IT AGAIN.  On my bed. Again.

I don’t know where exactly he will be going, but that is only a small detail at this point.  The cat must go.

The heartbreaking point of this is that Kiddo and the cat are very fond of each other.  It is going to be very hard on him to see the cat go.  Unfortunately this is just not something I can or will tolerate.  I don’t even want to know *why* the cat is doing it, because I will never trust that he won’t do it again.  Some may consider me a horrible person for giving away what they consider a family member.

To those I say, “I have a cat available for you to adopt.”

I need to charge my camera and *get back to taking pictures* again.

Kiddo is currently sporting a mohawk for the summer. I have yet to capture photographic evidence. That’s just one example.

Monday I dropped Kiddo off at a neighborhood “club” which will serve as child care for this summer.   I picked him up that day and he seemed rather quiet and reserved.  In typical fashion, on the car on the ride home I asked about his day.  He said it was ok.  I pressed further and he said the thing I knew I would one day hear but dreaded, “Some bigger kids were picking on me, shoving me around and stuff.”

At which point he broke down into tears.

At which point I could feel the lickings of a slowly burning rage.  How dare someone mess with him?!  The protective part of me was spring-loaded and ready to pounce and thrash the little grommets.  GRR!  Images of getting down at their eye level and growling and snarling at them to back off went skipping briefly around my brain.
I took a few breaths and reminded myself that these were children.  That my own son was at one time part of a group where they picked on someone else - briefly because once I caught wind of it I read him the riot act for half the night.  He ended up sticking up for that boy afterwards and they became friends.

We talked some more.  They threatened him, told him they would beat him up if he told on them, etc.  The usual bullying crap that kids do. I weighed my options.  I mean, I knew that promoting any physical retaliation wasn’t the right way to go, but on the other hand, I wanted him to know that I would support him if he felt he needed to defend himself.  I might have even sighed and said, “I’m sorry sweetheart, kids can be dicks to each other, and it’s all part of growing up.”
I couldn’t help it though, couldn’t resist one little piece, where I advised him to find even one of them (there were three ganging up on him) ALONE at some point, and make it clear that they were not to put their hands on him. EVER. I was banking on the fact that singling one of them out would prove that they wouldn’t be so “tough” without their other friends around.
Yesterday I picked him up and asked if he had a better day.  He smiled and nodded and on the way to the car, he told me how he had talked to not just one of the boys alone, but ALL three.  He found each one alone and told them to leave him alone.  He was very proud of himself and I could tell he was relieved.  I said to him that was great - now he could go about his business as if they don’t exist.

We’ll see what today holds.  It wouldn’t surprise me if they team up and circle back around to see if there’s any more they can do to provoke him, but I’m hoping not.

This morning, I tried one of these:

Then, I forgot to get off the exit to drop my son off at camp on my way to work.  So much for the “mental alertness” it promises.

Today is a total waste of a day.  I’m sitting here ticking away time waiting for an afternoon meeting.  It’s great…  I’m catching up on some reading.  But still. Though now that I think of it there is some air conditioning here in this building.  The weather is very hot and I stupidly wore two layered t-shirts today.  So could be worse, I could be at home in shorts and a tank top with my AC blasting.

Wait…  I’m trying to figure out how that would be worse.

Damn.

I should probably be more ashamed to say it, but I’m going shopping at IKEA tomorrow, and I’m hoping for a miracle or 20 to somehow fix this decrepit state of my house.

The IRS was kind enough to deposit another few hundred bucks in the bank account today, due to some ‘blah-blah-blah once you file you get a refund/rebate/whatever’ IRS thing.  So.

It is apparent I live with two slobs.  Plus I’m lazy and hate housework but love a clean house.  Hello, angst and gnashing of teeth at shithole state of living!

I have been putting off hiring help to clean the house. My reasoning is, shouldn’t I get the house into the spic’n’span state that I want them to put it in each time, before I have them come give an estimate?  Do you think the estimate will be inflated if they see just how disgusting those two males sharing a bathroom can leave it?

Anyway.  I’m going to IKEA this weekend, to get some furniture that for their room, and a few items for the rest of the house, that will hopefully promote more organization and less chaos.  In short:  miracles.

I don’t so much blog anymore, but occasionally I will twitter.

I think I inadvertently might have sent some family members here.  Maybe it was on purpose.  It doesn’t really matter since I don’t update here anymore.  I guess, I am no longer “a blogger.”

I am fat again.  Oh. mah. Gawd. It’s gross.  Of course I sit on my fat butt all the time so what do you expect?  What do *I* expect?  I’m thinking of trying out kickboxing-style workouts. With a real life bag and gloves, not that stupid “shadowboxing/dancing” crap I am too uncoordinated to follow.
I took a health assessment at work (free $50 gift card!) and at the end I was told, in red letters no less, “PLEASE SEEK HELP IMMEDIATELY FOR YOUR DEPRESSION!!”

*head jerks up*

Excuse me?

I wasn’t aware I was depressed.  I mean, sure, it’s been a crappy couple weeks, feeling like I’m totally sucking at life.  My ‘customers’ at work had little good to say about a project I worked very hard on.  Worse - I felt like I had done my very best, had done a great job in fact, until I heard from them otherwise. I felt like a failure.  Then I spend an afternoon in a meeting where I was screamed at for what was, to quote, “…just how I *feel*, even though it may not actually be the reality.”
My parenting is being called on the carpet - by the school,  and my son’s seemingly inability to understand school assignments are not a choice they are a requirement.  How, in a decade of parenting, have I failed to get this through to him?

Depressed?  No.  Run down, and even a little bored by the rigor of it all - sure.  But only very recently for a short period and honestly not anymore.  I had a couple bad days, a few mood swings, and now I have perspective on it and - Hello.  I’m not a failure in either regard. I’m not saying my mood wouldn’t be perked right up if I were able to shed 25 pounds in the next day, though.  By no means am I out on a ledge or anything either.

QotD from Vox:  When was the last time you laughed so hard you cried?

I mentioned recently how I have been playing SL.  If you didn’t know - you can get a headset/microphone and talk with other people while you’re online.  This has basically made it so that my bestest friend and I can hang out until all hours almost every day of the week, and no one has to drive an hour home.  Genius!
We hosted a party recently in the game, where we invited all our other pixel-people friends over.  Meanwhile her and I shared a couple bottles of wine.  I’m sure you can imagine the hilarity that ensued.

Thing 1 from that night that made me laugh so hard I cried:  Her husband coming in and asking (while both mics were open so everyone in the game could hear), “Does this shirt make my dick look big?”

I figured someone would have already thought of it:

Hee.  Still cracks me up.

Thing 2: The two of us busting out Beastie Boys “Paul Revere” - totally buzzed - word for word.  On open mics of course.