Funky

I am in a funk.

I had big, well moderate, plans for the day which included waking up, packing up my car, going to the gym on the way home and going back to Cambridge. Instead, I'm sitting at my parents kitchen table, in my towel, hair wet, watching The View.

I keep telling myself that there is not rush, but the reality is that I have no energy. I'm antsy and anxious, but I can't bring myself to do anything.

I don't think its because I have no job. That hasn't really affected me yet. I know I'll find something soon and I have that interview tomorrow. I don't know what it is, which means it is unfounded and most likely hormonal. Stupid hormones! Sadly enough it was triggered by a dream that I had the other morning that involved G. The stupid thing is that I cannot even remember what the dream was about, just that he was in it and I awoke with a distinct sadness surrounding me.

Oh I'll be fine soon, I just hate muddling through it. I hate that a dream can allow you to spiral into such a mood. I barely think of G anymore. Occasionally he will cross my mind, but he made up his and I can't control what he wishes to do about our relationship, or lack thereof. It is disappointing, but I have accepted it, I mean GOOD LORD its been almost three months. It is just hard to think that I thought he would be a lifer as a friend, and I was absolutely worth nothing to him.

At least its a lesson learned. Something I can file away and refer to when I venture (if that happens) into a new relationship.

I'm moving in small steps today. I did shower, now I have to dry my hair. Baby steps!

Hopefully by the end of the week I will have good news, getting a job would give me a huge sense of accomplishment! I'm focusing on employment first, shelter second.

Pop-u-lar

I wish I could say I've been so busy that I haven't had a chance to write, but that wouldn't be completely true. I mean I have definitely been busy, but not with important things. I've been busy going to the gym, cooking, and catching up on my Lost so I could watch the season finale last night. (All I have to say about that is: HUH?)

On Sunday I was very very very busy being hung over. Good Lord, how did I do that EVERY weekend in college? Seriously? I can't comprehend what we were thinking. I can remember after some nights in college, I would have a bruise in the middle of my chest from banging it against our slightly pointed toilet seat. (Please excuse the TMI, just making a point)

The night was fun, but I'm going to give Gin a good long vacation for a while. I blame my brothers. No self respecting 28 year old woman should be doing shots called "Ecto-Cooler" (I'm sure you all remember that lovely Hi-C flavor) or "Red Headed Slut", but I got my older brother back by being sick in his car. It wasn't a BIG deal, I got it in a shopping bag.

I did not see the light of day until noon and that was only to go and get my hang over staples of McNugget and fountain Coke. Mmmmm fountain Coke. I ate in my bed while glued to an America's Next Top Model Marathon. It was the first season that I had never seen.

The rest of the week hasn't been the most eventful. I did go back for a second interview with big important Boston hospital, and I just a few minutes ago set up an interview with extremely important Cambridge University.

The same University I was walking by after meeting J for lunch yesterday and though, "It would be really cool to work there."

SOME ONE IS LISTENING FINALLY!

Hopefully something will come out of all this. I'm running out of outfits. My old black suit pants are getting too short and I compulsively pull them down at one minute intervals while wearing them.

Off to the shore for Memorial Day Weekend. (by the shore I mean my parents house), heading to Six Flags tomorrow with my other unemployed friends because apparently we're 15.

New England has finally become a great place to live after the stupid, and find unnecessary, winter.

Happy Birthday.....

TO ME!

Inventory

No Job-check

No Income-check

No Health Insurance-check

Applied for Unemployment-check

Soon to be homeless and possibly having to move home with parents-check

That's my life inventory.

Nobody better be saying that Kate does things half-assed!

1997 Throwback

Saturday night a couple of friend came over to my parents house to grill out. It was going to be civilized. One brought the steak the other brought brownies and I made rosemary roasted potatoes and macaroni salad. You know, a grown-up dinner.

We were just hanging out, drinking beer and talking, dinner was good and relaxing, another friend joined us, and then we got bored.

Boredom is a devious thing.

After a try at Smurf Spin Around, found in my basement, and a rejection of Girl Talk by the lone boy in the group, (you know, the truth or dare game where if you don't perform the dare and tell the truth you have to put a red dot on your face to simulate a zit?) we started to look for drinking games.

Before I knew it one younger brother and two of his friends show up and the seven of us are strategically place around my parents dining room table playing 7, 11, doubles. The game was hilarious, I'm not even going to try and describe it well, but it involved rolling dice and drinking shots of beer, which you had to grab before someone else grabbed your shot, or you would have to do two. I was sitting there with a roll of paper towels, mopping up every one's mess.

My parents walking in during the game, gave an amused look and went into the living room. The next day my dad said he felt that he had walking into 1997, like as soon as I heard that they were going out I invited all my friends over to play drinking games.

"The only difference was instead of scattering at the sound of the door handle you invited us to play!"

I'm back in Cambridge now. Being home for a week was strange. At times back home I could see myself regressing, grunting when I could say 'yes' or 'no'. Getting annoyed at the drop of a hat, but it was comforting too. Very mixed feelings about the whole thing, but I am happy to be home in my own space.

I'm sluggish today so far, I woke up late and now I don't feel like moving. Its not the nicest day out so I don't feel to guilty yet. I MAY make it to gym. That's my goal for the day.

That and willing the Big Boston Hospital will call me.

Crossing fingers!

Epiphany

Some time on Friday night I realized that my health insurance had already expired. Well I realized it because I had called to renew a prescription and then they called me back informing me that my insurance had expired, after one week! I have no idea about HR practises, which is my own fault, but that seems a little soon. (and if anyone can educate me a little I would be much obliged!)

So this news was a slight reality check. I stressed all weekend, my mother forbid me to go roller blading and I just felt for the first time that maybe I should have accepted the hours a the old job until I could find something new. (Still waiting on the Big Boston Hospital).

There seemed to be a little bit of cloud following me all weekend. I couldn't shake it, I felt out of whack. It was strange.

I woke up this morning and wondered what I would do. I rolled out of bed and went downstairs to file for unemployment. My one goal for the day. Of course I can't file until Wednesday, so as of 8:35, I had no agenda.

I dragged my butt downstairs, put on my sneakers and Padres baseball hat and headed out the door. About five minutes into my walk it hit me, this is great! I have no where to be, nothing to do, no responsibilities it's gorgeous out, the wind smelled like the ocean and the grass was so green it could be called emerald and not be considered hyperbole. I took a deep breath and quickened my step.

I came back 45 minutes later and made myself a nice healthy breakfast and enjoyed my coffee while watching Regis and Kelly. It was nice and relaxing. There wasn't anything pressing on my mind anymore. It was liberating and freeing. I'm not so naive that I think that this will be great forever, I know I will get restless and bored, but for now, I'll enjoy the time.

This is fine, its just happening, but I will find a job, and who knows when I'm going to have time like this to myself like this again.

So for today I'm all about unemployment!

Yay!

Slackerville Here I Come!

So today is the last day of legitimate employment.

I have no idea what I'm going to do with my time. There are only so many hours you can spend job searching and sending resumes until you want to throw the computer out the window. My goal is to not be lazy! I'm going to need to keep a regular schedule or I will be all screwed up when it comes time for me to go back to work. No sleeping till noon and eating at all weird hours. I must get up and go to the gym and then do something productive.

I've been conferencing with my other unemployed friends and we have come up with a tentative list of activities:

• The MFA (though I may do that with my mother for a Birthday trip)
• The Aquarium
• Six Flags New England
• Shopping (eek! probably not the best idea)
• Taking of to an island for a few days (could be a birthday trip)
• A Zoo, somewhere (I have a weird obsession with zoos. I heart them.)
• Drinking heavily.
• My extensive "To Read" list.
• My extensive "T.V. Shows to catch up on" list.
  

So I think with that list as a starter I should be okay, but in truth: Unemployment scares the living bejesuses out of me!

One reason I didn't take the later hours at the old job was because I lack motivation in the morning. I will lay around until I force myself to shower and then get on my way. I would never accomplish anything in morning before going to work at two. I just knew I wouldn't. So knowing that I'm going to have to make an extreme effort to get moving in the morning. I don't want to create a Kate sized indent in my couch and burn my corneas with all the TV I would be watching.

I am pledging right now not to be a lump.

The week at my temporary job actually went very well! I thought I was going to bored out of my mind, but I have probably done more work this week than I had done in a month at the old job. It was pretty interesting too. I didn't understand much of it, but it kept me busy and for once I feel like I actually deserve the pay check!

Once the cats were taken away (Wednesday morning, after it had started to leak! GAH!) The rest of the week went very smoothly.

Not a dull moment, included a drunk guy coming into the office, telling me all about his head injury by a falling parking gate, and then hit me up for bus money. I shelled out a dollar fifty in quarters. I should have told him that I needed the money more than him, seeing that I was unemployed; however, I didn't 'think I would win that argument. I may have been able to trick him, seeing that his slurring was hampering his speech, but I'm too nice a person.

And he kinda scared me.

The First Day

I suppose I won't get my first taste of unemployment until next week. I agreed to help a friend of my dad's in his law office for the week. It was money I couldn't pass up. The day actually flew by pretty quickly and helped me in my search for a career by allowing me to cross off law school.

I don't know how they (lawyers) do it! So many rules (well I suppose they're laws), copies of everything, legal speak, its tedious and confusing. Lucky for me I'm just there to type and answer the phone. There was a lot to do and it was interesting enough and routine. I've had enough experience in dealing with clients that that was not a problem.

There was one problem and I didn't know about it until lunch. Apparently someone had left a box of dead cats in the parking lot on the side of the building in which I was working. Yes, I said A. BOX. OF. DEAD. CATS. More than one.

I had gone to lunch with my dad and the temporary boss and the TB mentioned it in passing to my dad, joking that he hoped it wasn't a Sicilian threat and that he called animal control, but he didn't think they had come to collect them yet.

I stopped.

"I'm sorry did you say a box of dead cats?"

He confirmed that was what he said. I recoiled. I am a cat lover. (Shocking I know seeing that spinsterhood is in my near future.) The thought of a couple of dead cats in a box, just hanging out repulses me! Though I'm sure it would hopefully repulse anyone.

When we get back, sure enough there is a box, two feet from my car. How I didn't hit it on the way in, or even notice it on the way in is beyond me, but they were there. I couldn't help, but look as we walked back in and saw the poor fuzzy black head of one. My stomach turned and I hurried inside thinking of nice happy thoughts and went back to my typing, hereof and therein.

So other than the constant though of dead animals, the day was fine. Old work only called once, but I didn't answer. I don't think it has actually sunk in that I'm never going to back to the old job, but I think once it does, the sense of relief will be so overwhelming that I may pass out.

I can't wait!

Last Day

As I sit here surrounded by bouquets of flowers, gift cards, farewell cards and gift bags, I am a little teary. People cared about me here and liked me. Obviously that was not a trait for which management was looking.

I am sad leaving, but the majority of my feelings right now are relief! After today, which has been hard, I will feel free. Free is a feeling I haven't felt in sometime.

I will miss particular people, the people who are outraged by what has happened and what is going on, but this was my escape hatch and they've made it easy for me. I will not have to feel any guilt because this is what management wanted.

The next adventure is around the corner. I am a finalist for the big important Boston Hospital job and I feel that if I get that job, even though it will be tedious for a while, it could lead to good things.

I'm happy to be moving on.

Oh did I also mention that big important Boston Hospital was the same one that D works at? I should also mention that when I told him that I interviewed there I told him if I got the job he would have to take me out to lunch.

As we know from our track record that is hit or miss, but he did seem receptive to the idea. I just want to have some fun, I don't want to marry the guy. I couldn't stand him for that long!

The Rest of the Story

Basically, I was forced out of my job.

I knew this, I'm not stupid, but I didn't want to think about it that way, because it was too upsetting. I'm good at my job and I know it, but "upper management" I think, wanted a new start, someone they could completely control and that person wasn't me.

I think they knew by telling me they were moving me to the later hours, I would not accept. That was exactly what happened.

They advertised my position with out telling me, and when I questioned why, I was told that they were advertising it at full time to get a better quality of person. What they didn't tell me is if they did find that sort of person they would demote me. By not telling me they had a safety net in case it didn't work out that they found someone better.

From my training, I don't think they've found someone better, but they can figure that out by themselves.

Its beyond upsetting to me. I was never given a performance review, I was never told that how I was performing was not up to their standards. I was never given a chance to change my ways or improve.

In short I was give them ol' heave ho with no warning. I was manipulated to leave and it happened.

I'm still very glad to be leaving, especially since I know I meant nothing to them, but its still a disappointment to be treated so.

So that's my story. On to bigger and better things.

S-A-D Cured...

At one point during my stay, I found myself on the back patio of my married friends fabulous house by myself. I was in a skirt and tank top, my legs bare and propped on the chair across from me. There was a light breeze that caused me to tuck my skirt protectively between my legs.

I put down the book I was casually reading and looked up into the sky. Not a cloud in sight. The breeze was warm and comforting and I could see a pinkness starting to develop on my exposed left arm.

I felt something I had not felt in some time: pure contentment. I breathed deep and smiled. I wasn't thinking about my last weeks at work, where I would be living, what I would do for work. I was just thinking of how lovely the breeze felt against my face, how warm the sun was and how much I loved my newly purchased Target sunglasses. It was a break much needed and a break much appreciated. The hospitality of my married friends was unparalleled.

The trip flew, but every moment was enjoyed. The trip to the Fort Worth Zoo and the frosty limey, salty margaritas during a rousing game of scatagories were just a couple of the enjoyable moments.

It was just the fact that I was somewhere different. I was somewhere sunny and green and so, so different. It awoke a feeling me that must have gone dormant during the winter. I love new places, I love experiencing new things and being somewhere I've never been before.

The winters drain me. Kate has SAD, would be joked about, but sometimes I think its true. Its amazing what a little sun can do. SAD cured.

It revived me. I'm struggling through my last week at work, but looking very much forward to moving on. I'm not sure where I'm going, but I'm hoping it will be a great place with potential. I am waiting to hear back from Important Boston Hospital. This job would be great, but I can't get my hopes too up. My fingers are slightly crossed.

I hope I hear soon.

Three days left. I'm training, but its hard. How do you explain so someone that you know this stuff because you pay attention, you care about people and you make sure you know what's going on so you can help them. I didn't get all my knowledge because it was written down for me in a nice neat package. I worked to be good at my job, and people get frustrated with me because I cannot infuse them with my knowledge. Work hard like I did and then maybe you'll get it. Pay attention to what happens around you then maybe you'll be good at the job.

There's really know way to explain that to someone, but I try to be patient and tell them enough to get by and then on Friday I wash my hands of this place. They were willing to let me go; therefore, I will let them go.

Goodbye and Good Fricken Luck!

Yee Haw!

So I'm back from Texas. Well I have been back since Sunday night, and I've been trying to write, or think about what to write and I'm still in that process, but I wanted to write something down.

I'm in the middle of training my replacement so I'm using her lunch break to slack off.

So I have one week left at my job, I had an interview on Monday that I'm hoping went well and I'm in hyper-spring cleaning mode, which is bizarre for me because I hate cleaning and I hate trying to organize, but its happening.

Everything is so up in the air, and I haven't caught on to the fact that I'm NOT going to be getting a paycheck in the near future, but other than that I'm excited about the future. I hope there will be very positive changes coming my way soon.

Texas coming soon! I promise myself.

Ahhh Life, You Twisted Bitch

Its like now that I'm about to be unemployed someone is playing a cruel joke on my to wrack up all these random charges.

My car died. D-I-E-D. I was taking a corner and BOOM! There was no power steering, no brakes, nothing. It just died. No warning, no fond farewell, absolutely nothing. After I had treated her so well, I am a little put out.

Being helpless on the side of the road is humiliating on so many levels. Especially when you are a woman, because any man who stops automatically assume that you are a bimbo.

One guy actually said to me three times, "I'm going to need you to listen to me veeery carefully." Yes, he did draw out the very. "Have you tried to restart the car?"

I looked at him with my plastered smile on my face., "No you jackass I've been sitting here in the freezing rain with my hazards on because my car is PERFECTLY FINE!"

Sigh....

Thank God for AAA. Its probably one of the better investments in my life.

So I've been towed back to work, I have to make my brother come and pick me up and drive me to my parents house so I can borrow their car, drive back to good ol' Cambridge because I haven't packed a thing for Texas.

It is just funny how I can float through life stressing to myself how fine I am and looking on the positive side of everything. I can focus on what I enjoy and what is coming up in my life, things of which to look forward, but in an instant a small situation like this can really make you breathtakingly aware of just how alone you really are.

Even though I will handle this myself or with the help of my parents, there's just that awareness that there really wasn't anyone whose main concern would be the fact that I was stuck in the freezing rain, in a broken down vehicle. It was only my main concern.

Just me. Only me.

It hurts. It really does, but only for a moment. I can't let myself dwell on that fact or I will mostly likely fall to pieces. In my most negative moments I allow myself to wonder what is it about me that makes it so easy to not care, why is it that I have to be alone, but I understand how this is counterproductive, but we all have our moments. So I will keep on plugging along until another random incident knocks me on my ass and I have to take a moment before I can pick myself up and dust myself off.

Again.....

Change is Good

I don't feel right.

I can't get a handle on what it is that I'm actually feeling, but I know it doesn't feel right. The looming change that is handing over my head, has started to move and is settling in the pit of my stomach. A lot of things tend to settle there: Change, sadness, depression, stress. Stupid pit.

The way I'm describing my leaving is as bittersweet. I'm happy to be moving on and starting or finding something new, but its sad. Goddamn its sad. Four years is a long time. I won't miss the job. I hate the job. The actual what I DO part of the job, but I like the environment and the people. I'm afraid I will lose some part of my identity when I leave here.

UGH! I just feel S-A-D.

Its an unsettled feeling. Its the kind of feeling that make my feet rub together constantly when I'm trying to relax and read or watch TV. Sitting still is not an option.

Its the "now what?" feeling and the "what the hell did I do feeling?" The second guessing, the fear of hating the next job as much as this one, but not having the same quality of people to make up for it.

I think I've cried every day this week. I'm not traditionally a crier, but judging from my track record in 2007 you would have thought that my resolution was to cry more and cry often. Even now the tears are just a small prick away behind my lashes.

I know its time to go. Everyone here knows its time for me to go. Seriously, I'm like the 30 year old guy still living at home with his mom here. Everyone was probably wondering when I would get my act together.

I know I will be missed and hopefully I can get over this sad feeling and begin to get excited about the future.

My immediate future sees me at dinner tonight at a great south end restaurant Stella and then tomorrow out again for a birthday party. I was also out last night too, so obviously the financial ramifications of my unemployment have not sunk in yet. Its also a long weekend with Marathon Monday, but the impending nor-eastah is not boding well for the poor runners.

Next Thursday I'm off to Dallas to visit the married friends, but in my defense the tickets were bought before I knew I was going to be unemployed.

Holy S*&*%

I gave my notice yesterday.

I don't think it has quite sunk in yet, but my last day will be May 4th. No, I don't have another job.

This all transpired on Friday when i was called into my supervisors office at 4:45. After a long schpele about communication and where the important time is and when they need me there she broke the news that they wished to move me to the 2:00 PM to 8:00 PM time slot.

That means not only did they want me to have crappy hours, but they wanted to cut me to part time thus cutting my pay. Now I may have some savings, but I don't really have enough to be able to work part time.

I told her I didn't think I could do it. I was fighting the urge to not tear up and I told her I would think about it over the weekend. I cried all the way home, and seeing it was Easter Weekend, that was all of the hour and ten minutes it took to get to my parents house.

Lucky for me my Dad had the foresight to leave me a glass of wine on the kitchen table.

I knew it was the last straw and I also knew it would be a good opportunity to get out. I went in yesterday morning and had a long talk with my supervisor and let her know that I would be giving my notice. I told her I thought it would be positive for everyone and that it was time for me to move on. She even confessed that as much as the Registrar's position may be evolving, it would never get to the level that I would be looking for or what I'm capable of.

So there you have it. Its been almost four years, but I'm excited for a new start. Scared out of my mind, but excited nonetheless. I'm sad and its going to be hard to say goodbye to everyone, but its just one of those things that comes with that damn growing up stuff they keep forcing on me.

I emailed G this morning. I want to tell him seeing as he heard me whine about it for so long, I want him to know I'm being proactive and changing. I want to be his friend. If he doesn't write back, so be it. It was his decision.

Ahh Romance...

I just got and email from My "former" Crush. (Okay, maybe, but only maybe, I still want to pull him into the elevator and have my way with him when I see him, but I digress.)

Hi Kate,

I am wondering how many lessons this family has paid for. The mother keeps asking me to give her son, extra lessons so that he can "catch up." Were his lesson fees pro-rated because he started late?

Thanks,

Your "former" Crush.

Too romantic for words. I'm swooning!

It's Official

The large, perfect Museum has rejected me.

The rejection came in the form of a letter sent through the mail. Quite the throw-back. It was dejecting, but I guess I knew it was coming seeing as it had been two weeks since the initial interview.

It was slim envelope and I had flashbacks to college acceptance time, when the slim envelope would strike fear into the heart of any high school senior.

Except I got into every college I applied to. I'm always a late bloomer.

On another note, I've made a connection with a young Canadian. This could be interesting.

One of Those Days

Why is it some days, for no reason at all, you just want to scream until your throat is raw? Or until that lone tear runs down your cheek and under your chin you don't even know you're crying, never mind WHY you're crying? Then all of a sudden you're scrambling to wipe the lone drop from existence before someone can see and give you that sympathetic look that would only make more fall.

Even though there are gym and dinner plans you just want to run home and hide under your covers reading without thinking.

And when I say "you" I mean me.

The frustration is getting to me. I make a conscious decision to make changed in my life, and that all well and good, but what happens when the universe will not comply?

I don't know how much longer I can stay at this job. I know I'm not the fist one to hate there job, but I've been here too long, and I can't stand it anymore, mentally or physically. I've already thrown up twice on the way to work, (absolutely not fun whatsoever) and about three times before leaving for work. Yes its gross.

I'm tired of waiting. Tired of waiting for the large museum to call me back, tired of waiting to hear from G, and tired of thinking that I will hear from him, that maybe this one time I wasn't that disposable, never to be thought of again.

I suppose I'm too sensitive, or at least I have been lately.

I've been acting unlike myself, snapping at J about the shower, getting angry at M for not defending my honor after some random kid made disparaging remarks about my chest, of course not using chest as the word, but the extremely offensive word to my ears, that rhymes with "bits." (I'm shuddering as I type this.)

I just need to get a grip. I mean honestly Kate, get a grip.

Even as I'm wrapping up this post, I'm feeling slightly better. It must have been the grocery store artificial mini-cupcake with the plasticine-tasting frosting that is now coursing through my blood stream.

I'm going to go balance that out with a cup of green tea.

Thanks for listening to my mini-breakdown.

Why, Good Lord? Why?

Another J classic for your reading pleasure.

"It's ok. I know that. Just realize that I haven't changed anything since the summer. Last week, I was laying in bed while you were getting up later. I figured you might just be sad or something and hitting snooze. I went late to work everyday, but I didn't want to make a deal out of it. Then when it happened yesterday, that's why I asked if something changed. It did - your work schedule.

So, again, no biggee...if you want to sleep later, I'll just get up 10 min. earlier. I'm only in the bathroom for 10 minutes if that. I just can't get into the shower at 7:55. Then I'm big time rushing when I get out. I am supposed to be getting up at 7:37, but I snooze for 10 minutes because 7:47 is the absolute latest I can get up and make it on time to work (and that is with rushing). You always used to get up at 7:15 and be done showering by 7:32ish

--> I know because the shower is right near my head. I hear when you turn on the fan, then the shower then when you're in the medicine cabinet. That's the unfortunate part of sleeping with your head next to a thin wall next to the bathroom."

All I had written was "Sorry I snapped this morning, I'm not good in the morning" and that was what I got in return. All I really got out of this was "Blah Blah Blah...Blah Blah Blah"

It is seriously exhausting!

Hopes Down

Well there it was. The re-posting of the job that I had been coveting all week. That can't be a good sign. I haven't heard a word and now I have no reason to think that I may.

Chalk it all up to experience.

Off to New Hampshire this weekend. Everyone left with out me again so I have to trek up there on my own after work. My job is so ridiculously inflexible. That is one of the reasons I want to leave so badly.

Oh well! Back to the drawing board.

I'm trying not to be disappointed, but as soon as I saw the job title again, just posted yesterday, my heart dropped into my stomach. I just feel like I always have negative news. I want to share something that people will be excited to hear or I'm going to start to get a reputation for being a downer.

I'm trying hard to make changes for the better, but sometimes I get the feeling that the universe is against me.

Sigh, hopefully New Hampshire will revive me a little.

Interview the Second

I applied for this particular job back in January. When I got the call I let it go to voicemail thinking it was the most recent job I had applied for at the local zoo. (Fun huh?)

I checked my voice mail as soon as the indicator sounded and was surprised to hear back from the large museum within walking distance to my apartment. If the HR girl (trust me she is a girl) hadn't left the name of the position I would have has no clue for which job I had applied. I had to scramble around looking for the cover letter that was sent, the job description that had obviously piqued my interest and when I had actually sent all my information.

A Ha! January! It was now March. I feel better about being just a little clueless. I was excited about this prospect. The location was ideal, the benefits a dream come true, full medical, dental, a full week more of vacation. Sigh, good on paper.

The interview was arranged for nine days later. NINE! Just enough time to induce full panic mode. It was also enough time for me to get a new fancy suit, which I love and which I had retained enough patheticness after the G debacle to have my mom offer to pay for it. Score!

So my last two weeks have included interview preparation, the G bomb, and trying to coordinate a trip to NJ to see a friend who lives there with two of my friends who live here. They were leaving on Wednesday, my interview was on Thursday; therefore, I was on my way to NJ on Friday morning on a train, but that's just an annoyance I don't want to recount, I just want to forget about it. Not the train ride itself, I'm in love with the train, but the build up to the trip.

Speaking of trains I'm getting off-track.

Thursday comes, I bolt work early, citing I had to catch the train Thursday afternoon. I arrive at the HR office of the large museum five minutes early and sit and wait. For TWENTY-FIVE minutes! Of course I was nervous and warm and feeling a little uncomfortable to the point where I had to remove my fabulous suit jacket and discretely fan out my shirt in a failed attempt to cool myself down. Luckily I had armed myself with copious amounts of deodorant and body splash.

I'm not good when I'm nervous.

Finally the HR girl emerges from her prior exit interview, apologizes for being late and says we can walk and talk seeing as the office that I'm interviewing for is across the street. She decided that this would save time.

Interviews are nerve wracking enough with out having to be mobile at the same time. Usually you can anchor yourself to the chair and try to look comfortable while being articulate. When you add in a busy street, big puddles and a tiny HR girl who keeps jumping against the wall because she is afraid of being splashed by a car, you have a whole different situation. The noise made it difficult to hear her questions, our pace made it difficult for me to answer smoothly, and crossing the busy street was just plain dangerous, but we made it. Phew! I had to grin and bear it and not focus on the fact that I get a little anxious about crossing busy streets when I am not at the designated crosswalk. (I know I'm a dork, but I am also a klutz and I'm always afraid I will trip in the middle and be squashed by an eighteen wheeler.)

I met with a man first. I forget his position, but I have his card somewhere.

I really felt comfortable talking with him, it seemed more like a conversation than an interview. He asked me questions about my prior employment and the rest just rolled from there. He asked me about my ideal office environment, and I told him about my current one and how I felt I could adapt to any situation. After I had told him a little about my current working environment he paused.

"That sounds stressful."

I laughed out loud. He had no idea, but I managed to wax poetically about handling the space and managing my time and how it had taught me that there was no problem that couldn't be solved. blah blah blah. I feel I actually did pretty well.

When he started to describe the working environment at this job, I started to get giddy.

My own cube? Privacy? A hands off manager? Laid back environment? Room to make the psition my own? Is this heaven? I refrained from actually asking that, but he could probably see the desire in my eyes.

I even made him laugh a couple of time, so I felt a sense of accomplishment from that.

From there I met with the woman who would be my direct boss, but she was in the middle of a grant crisis so she only had a few minutes to meet with me. I was relieved, but this part of the interview went well too. I didn't have to talk about my strengths and weaknesses and where I saw myself in 5 years and all that bull-loney.

So that's it. Interview number two. It went well by my view, I have no idea what they may be thinking.

At the risk of jinxing any possibility of getting this job, I will only say that it is quite possible that I maybe might think that this could in someways be a good fit for me and I maybe might be wishing very hard that I hear something positive very soon.

One Year

I have all these intentions and then I don't know where to start.

I could start with the interview, or I could start with my weekend trip to New Jersey or I could start with the fact that my assistant up and quit while I was gone. I mean seriously? I was gone for one and a half days and THIS is what happens.

I could also say how my little blog turned one year old on Saturday and I celebrated by having three Guinness in a little Irish bar in Hoboken, New Jersey. I'm actually surprised to see it turn a year. I figured it was something that would occupy me for a couple of days seeing as I set it up on a whim. Friday's at work are always notoriously slow.

Yet, here I am a year later and still writing. I wish I had the drive to write more often and I always promise myself I will, but things get in the way. Yes, the ambiguous things. In the next year I will try to write more. All the little post I start to compose in my head I will try put on to paper.

It seems like everything I'm trying to put into blog form. Its just when I think to start it or write it down, I lose focus or drive or usually my phone rings (because I'm at work.)

So there yah have it! One whole year.

I'm impressed with myself and that rarely happens!

Getting Angry

I'm not upset because G is dating someone else. I'm not so delusional that I didn't know that that would eventually happen.

I'm upset because of the way he approached the subject (over email) and the fact that he has some how twisted it around to make me think that I have done something wrong. (I haven't). The fact that he still would like to be friends, but "only on email for now" rubs me the wrong way. I'm not calling him five times a day so he has to tell me not to call. I haven't heard his voice since January.

Okay so maybe a few weeks ago had called him after a few (many few) beers at a Bruins game, but that's when I believed him to still be my friend. Obviously I was wrong.

A mutual friend asked me if I really expected more from "someone like G". (Emotionally stunted)

Well, g'damnit! I did! Why wouldn't I?

The bottom line is that I feel like I've lost my best friend. Did I really think I was going to end up with G? No. Did I think it would go beyond where it had? No. Did I hold on too long to this relationship? Absolutely!

He was just my rock for about a year and half. I told him everything that mattered. When I had news he was the first one I wanted to tell, I could vent to him because he was an outside observer.

Will we talk again? I'm sure we will. Its a little too open ended for me to be comfortable with, but I'm fine giving him the space he feels he needs.

I just can't shake the feeling of being cast aside.

Maybe I'm wrong?

Ending

Kate,

Yes I am home. I am sorry to hear that you did not get the job. I know there is something out there for you, you are too smart to not get something great.

On another note there is something I have to tell you. I have met someone, I did not mean to it just happened. I would still like to think we can be friends but we won't be able to talk as much as we used to, pretty much only by e-mail right now. I have been dreading telling you because I don't want to hurt you. I don't know what else to say right now. I will talk to you when you are ready. I am sorry.

G

Its a Start

I liked that my dad sounded genuinely shocked that I didn't get the job.

The call came this morning and I knew as soon as my cell phone started ringing that it was them calling to notify me of what they chose. I silenced my phone, letting it go to voice mail. I couldn't have had either conversation at work.

As I waited for the voice mail notification, I squeezed my eyes shut and chanted in my head, "Please don't give it to me, Please don't give it to me." It was the coward's way out. It wasn't my dream job, but one day at work after a particularly frustrating morning I shot out four job applications in quick successions. After I did so, I promptly forgot about them.

I was completely taken aback when I was offered and interview. It would be more of a lateral move, doing basically the same tasks and probably dealing with the same annoyances, but I had made a decision at the new year to stop whining about my job and to do something proactive about it. Applying was that. I hadn't really gotten to the second step.

I called back and set up the interview. As soon as I hung up the anxiety set in. It was two fold: anxiety about the interview process and anxiety about sneaking around at work, going to the interview and possibly giving my notice. I felt as if I were cheating.

The interview fast approached. I did the required research on the organization, an art school in the city, and tried to sum up my strengths and weaknesses, where I wanted to go in my career and all that other bull shit you have to spew in an interview.

I had done a test run the night before. It is a little dorky, but in the past I have found that it eases the tension a little. Getting there is half the battle.

The interview took place in a conference room with a large, extremely ugly glass conference table being supported by what looked to be a tree split in half. I was tense, but the three interviewers all seemed nice.

They started by reading a statement and saying they would ask me a series of questions that would take 35 to 40 minutes. I panicked a little. What a long time for an interview! Not to worry, I was out in 20.

But what did that mean!?

I obsessed about it for about 10 minutes before deciding there was nothing I could do about it. The questions had been predictable and I feel like I had represented myself well. It was over and done and I could always just look at it as good practise. Besides, I didn't even know if I wanted the job.

They called this morning citing they had offered the job to a "strong internal candidate." I wonder if they say that to all the candidates. "Its not you its us," sort of deal. To soften the blow and give you no reason to fault yourself. Now I can say, the only thing that was wrong with me was that I was not an internal candidate. Its like having a guy break up with you because he's gay. Well you can't help that you're not a guy. Okay maybe not QUITE like that, but you get the gist.

After hearing the message and experiencing a little disappointment mixed with relief I called my dad.

"You're kidding me." He said the shock apparent in his voice.

I appreciated it.

Once Bitten, Twice Shy? Probably a Good Idea!

The other day I was having an innocent conversation with My (former) Crush's roommate, who also works with me.

We were discussing the impending storm and our reluctance to drive in it and a optimism that there would be no work the next day. (HA! Wishful thinking)

In the middle of our begnine conversation the most random thought popped into my head.

"He totally knows I'm a biter."

To have that kind of though pop into your head during a conversation as mundane as the one that we were having is not easy to cover up. I mean seriously, I have no reason to be blushing over the weather.

So I bite sometimes while hooking up. I'm not vicious, I don't leave marks and it doesn't hurt, but for some reason I got this premonition that My (former) Crush may have kissed (bit) and told. (Yes there was some return nibbling). I was slightly embarrassed seeing that I don't know this roommate very well and he is privy to some private information on me.

Oh well! Haven't had any complaints before.

Though I did leave a vicious mark on G the first time we hooked up. The kind of mark that prompted the shocked indignant response, "I did NOT do that!"

He just grinned, I think he took it as a compliment, as well he should have!

My Nomadic Adventures

Okay, so maybe its not much of an adventure, but for me, wearing the same pair of pants in one week to work is crazy.

I haven't been home since Tuesday morning because I am a big, fat wuss. I am afraid to drive in the snow or ice or sleet or (the horrors!) freezing rain. So for Tuesday night, the night before the stupid Nor'eastah, I imposed on the very agreeable GJ to sleep on her couch. She lives 5 minutes away from my work and the storm was supposed to be its worst during the morning rush hour. My commute isn't that bad, but its on the south east expressway, which is congested in the morning at best, its a raised highway, with horrible drainage. Its not even that I doubt my own ability to drive in the snow, I doubt everyone else's ability around me.

So as I watch the storm unfold around me yesterday while I was at work I started to get nervous about driving home. Listening to the people call in to make sure we were open, then berating me for being open because didn't I know that the streets were going to turn into sheets of ice? Yes I knew, well I knew because they were telling me, which in turn started to REALLY freak me out about my drive home.

I was supposed to go to C's house for dinner anyway and C lives midway between work and home so I asked to crash in her recently vacated second room.

My desire to not have to drive home to Cambridge ended up out weighing my desire to sleep in my own bed. I have a great love affair with my bed too, so you know that i had to have been really petrified.

I was prepared to crash at GJ's so I had all the necessary toiletries, PJ's, ONE change of clothes, and for some reason two extra pairs of underwear. The fact that I had enough foresight was the reason I could crash at C's. Because maybe I can wear the same pants, I would have to draw the line at underwear.

I was not disappointed either when i woke up this morning to a desolate frozen tundra outside. The street on which I was parked was a bumpy terrain of ice. Traversing that in my knee high boots produced mental images of me completely falling on my ass, but I managed to make it across to my poor frozen car.

Of course the doors were frozen shut.

After much cursing, pushing, pulling and grunting I managed to get the passenger side door opened, which allowed me to crawl into the car and kick open my driver's side door like any self-respecting New England girl would do. When in reality I just wanted to sit on the curb and cry, but I knew in doing so my tears would freeze my face and my butt would probably freeze to the curb.

Seriously!? Why do we insist on living here?

I blame my parents, as I do for most things.

So now I'm sitting here at work, in the same pair of pants I wore Tuesday and a borrowed sweater which allows my turquoise and green (discounted Victoria's Secret purchase) print bra show through at times, feeling a little discombobulated. I want my own bed, my own shampoo and conditioner, my hairdryer, my robe and most of all my razor, which I had forgotten. Ick!

What I Have Been Doing*

1. I got a migraine, while driving.

2. I got a nasty cold which involved my sinuses. Today is the first day I haven't felt like someone had jammed two steel rods up my nostrils, through my eyes and into my brain.

3. I became obsessed with Everwood and was unable to do anything after work except go upstairs to my room, lay in bed and watch it from 6-7. I cried at the series finale and the time has now been filled by 7th Heaven. I suppose now I can get back into going to the gym.

4. I have not heard from D.

5. I have not heard from G, until yesterday when he responded to my "Are you alive?" email.

6. I attended my Sister-in-law's 30th birthday party, which consisted of couples and babies.

7. I made a new friend. He watches TV with me. He's about an inch and a half long and even though I know he's dirty, I can't help but think about Stuart little and I don't want to kill him. Yesterday I gave him a peanut. I think he was grateful.

8. I got into a battle with my mother. It reminded me of high school and not in a good way. The result was me throwing my bottle of water across the room. It was open. I then stormed up stairs sobbing. Keep in mind I had a cold. It wasn't pretty, but it felt good after.

9. It's the first week of the spring semester. I hate my job.

10. I applied for four jobs last week. I have not heard back from any of them.

11. I learned, after another temper tantrum, how to fill up my tire. My dad has since used this story as an anecdote for his friends seeing as I was on the phone with him at the time.

12. I had to get four new tires. Not because of anything I personally did.

13. I really really want to get a pug puppy, but everyone seems to laugh at me when I bring it up. I want to name him Bob.

I think that pretty much sums it up.

*Not in any particular order

And So It Begins

I'm sitting on my couch, all cozy, because in this lovely town of Boston it was about 8 degrees, watching Access Hollywood, when my phone signals that I have a text message.

Hmm...I wonder who that could be?

It is of course D, the only person who texts me now a days.

"That you up to?" D is the WORST text messager ever. He doesn't pay attention and leaves me to decipher what he is trying to say. I think I even got a message sometime over the weekend with the word "wolf" in it.

I reply that I'm not doing much and I ask him what he's doing.

"Just got off work!" He's very excited I guess.

"Oh so late!" I have no idea what to respond to that, "How have you been?"

"I tend to work late! I'm good. How far do you live from the city these days?"

My radar goes up. I think our dear doctor friend may be looking for a little company and not the extended kind. I reply that I'm very close to the city now and ask him where he lives.

He replies with his street address and adds, "Want to come over for a drink and see the place?"

I pause, I really do want to hang out with him and see his new place, but I know I can't right now. There is no psychological reason and I'm not playing hard to get. The reason I can't see him right now is because I have a massive cold sore on the upper right corner of my lip. Its on its way out, but its at the flaming red scabby stage and I don't want our first encounter in six months to involve him politely ignoring It and me trying to hide It with my hair.

Before I can think of a response. (A was no help seeing he suggested that I "share the love") D texts me back.

"The only catch is that I told people from work that I would meet them out at 9:30-10ish."

Well that makes my decision much easier. Earlier in the week I had told J I would go check out a band with him, but I was probably going to back out of that, but it provided me with a valid excuse without have to admit to lip fungus. I was also slightly put out and confused. Not really being in tune with D and his intentions, I wasn't sure if that was "So you'll have to get the hell out before I go." or "We'll have to go out."

I was leaning more towards, the "You'll have to leave."

I was happy to get that text before I had responded. So I just sent a text telling him I already made plans with my roommate, but that we should get together soon.

It was met with silence until the next random texting session.

I'm sure it was just for a quick hook up or what ever, and I'm actually okay with that, but this was a little too quick, like he was fitting me in.

I have a tiny bit more self-respect than that, but this is not over. I will see his new place and find out the story of why he's back in Boston.

I will also have pretty lips at the time.

Cold

"I look at you and I see that you're a strong person. That's why I rely on you so much." J said to me the other night after I stopped him from talking incessantly about himself.

He's not right. I'm not strong. I'm good at pretending I'm strong.

He's referring to how I got over C. It wasn't magic or a testament to my strength it was a necessity and it was something that took time and effort, something that he really is not open to. He doesn't realize what it took for me or any person getting over a break-up, because he only talks about himself. I never talk about me, I don't like to drag my "feelings" out into the open and dissect them and examine them with friends or family. They are what they are and I am who I am.

In most ways I am a calm, rational, unemotional person. My Friend once told my my Native American name would be Stiff-As-A-Board. I'm not quite sure why that is. I've just always been guarded, stand-offish, unimpressed.

I don't like to be touched, I hate sharing a bed with someone I'm not having sex with, and I hate close talkers, never mind the double-threat, close talkers who touch you when they talk. Its not that I'm unfriendly, I'm very friendly and nice to a fault. I just have these barriers that I don't like people to cross.

While J talks at me all he likes, I draw the line at hugs, cuddling or any touching at all. I can't stand it. At firs he would insist on hugs and i would stand there all stiff armed, uncomfortable. Lucky for me a friend of his came back into his life who is affectionate and will hug him and sleep in his bed. (ick! that is just something I can't comprehend) so I've been spared the requests.

I remember looking at G while I was there, it was morning and he was trying to convince me to get out of bed to go get coffee, "This is the most human contact I have had in months." I confessed.

"Me too." We're the same in that way. We'll say goodnight and then roll to our respective sides of the bed, but I'm much more affectionate with him than anyone.

"I'm not like this back at home, you know."

He raises his eyebrows, doubting my words.

"Seriously, I'm not touchy at all. In fact, I can't stand it."

"Could have fooled me!" He chuckled.

I miss him.

I realized this last night laying in bed. I haven' t talked to him in two weeks due to his Japan trip. He's probably the best friend that I have right now. The one I feel most comfortable with. The one I can talk to about anything, vent to and not feel like I'm being judged. The one I can be vulnerable with and let down my guard with and know that he pretty much already knows all my faults and that I won't surprise him with anything. He knows my quirks, he knows me.

I have accepted our situation, but he has become one of those people who sticks in your life. He will always be there to talk to and even though it may not progress any further than it has, he will always be someone of great importance in my life.

He is also extremely generous, a fabulous gift giver and a free place to crash in San Diego.

Oh and I wouldn't kick him out of bed. Even us cold, unemotional people need a little human contact now and again.

You Know You Want My Living Situation

Because I'm lacking energy to try and be witty and comprehensive about my weekend, I'll just post this for now.

J sent this gem yesterday. Notice the subtle calling out of A.

Hey guys:>

So here's the thing....our heat bill sucks. P and A, I know I've bitched and moaned about keeping the heat low, but we HAVE to work harder at this (A). We've had a pretty easy winter so far, but it's going to get frigid before the end. This weekend, we should take one day as roommates and maybe get that plastic wrap or something. We gotta do something. I don't know if that would help, but do you guys have any other ideas?

To which A responded:

I think it goes without saying that when it gets cold you use more heating fuel. You're right that it has been a relatively mild winter, hence a lower heating bill. And I agree that when we're not home we should turn the heat down to 55-60 but I don't think 65-70 is unreasonable when we're home (which is what I have it set at). If you want to conserve you might want to consider taking the a/c's out of the windows which is where most of the heat is lost, especially when your running the fan all day. If you really want to save money you should look at cutting back on the cable bill. I'd rather pay more for heat and be comfortable than all the extras for tv that I dont use. Sorry but just because I'm still in college does'nt mean I want to live in a frat house freezing my balls off all winter!!!

Your Loving Friend,
A
xoxo

(Typo's and spelling errors left in tact.)

Hmmmm? I wonder what is zapping my energy?

Grace

My phone rang in the middle of the night last night, (okay so it was only 11:45, but it FELT like the middle of the night, as I had already been asleep for some time). I reached for it, somewhat confused, somewhat excited because random, middle of the night phone calls usually produce something interesting.

It was M, not so interesting. We had actually talked briefly earlier that night and he said he would call me back in an hour, he forgot and for some reason though that instead of calling the next day and apologizing, he would call at 11:45.

Doesn't he know I'm old?

So of course now that I'm woken up I have to use the bathroom, so I struggle out of bed and head towards it. J is in my (our) bathroom brushing his teeth, so I keep on going to the bottom floor, there are two steps to go and all of a sudden I'm on the kitchen floor.

I had missed the last two steps and fell straight down into a pile of fleece bathrobe and limbs. Because I was still half asleep I'm still not quite sure what happened, and then I finally comprehend that I'm on the kitchen floor because I FELL DOWN THE STAIRS!

I look around, because for some reason I feel like P and Legs witnessed my acrobatic manouver, but the whole area is dark so I stumble into the bathroom.

This whole time I'm still on the phone with M. He's still talking. He has talked through my tumble and has continued.

All of sudden he stops. "What are you doing? Did you stub your toe?"

"Umm something like that?"

If me falling down the stairs literally into a heap at the foot of them sounds like someone stubbing their toe, than I must be a more graceful klutz than I thought I was. I could have sworn I sounded like a heard of elephants. I was expecting someone to see if I was okay, but I was left to pick myself up. The floor was VERY cold!

This morning there were no visible bruises, but we'll see.

P.S. This post is dedicated to my friend S, who gets endless pleasure out of seeing me fall on my ass!

Seriously?

I'm just minding my own business, mooching off my parents for a few days, enjoying the last two days of my mourning period in isolation and out of the blue, I get a text message.

I tend to go into incommunicado mode when I'm visiting my parents. I revert into an 11 year old. I trail them around, Mom can I get this? Dad said I could! and so on and so forth. I never bring my cell phone, my bag, my wallet or money when I'm out with them.

We were out bulk shopping, one of my favorite activities and when I got home I casually glanced at my phone and noticed I had a message. Not expecting anything exciting, probably just a morose text from the ultra-depressed J, imagine my surprise to see the name D under the text message.

"You HAVE to be kidding me!"

My mom looks at me, her mom radar all a-flutter. I haven't heard from D since our moving texted goodbye in August. He was moving to Florida, he had bought a condo, (of which he kept showing me pictures even though I had already seen them all) and was taking a position at a St. Pete's hospital.

I basically figured I would never talk to him again. It had definitely fizzled out.

"How are you?" He inquired.

Two hours later I wrote back, "I am well, How are you?"

"Good. Guess what?"

"What?"

"I'm living in Boston again." My jaw literally drops. I have mixed feelings. My first is, "Oh good a distraction", my second is, "Oh damn, He's such a flake, this will probably be too frustrating."

We exchange a few more texts ending with my saying "We should catch up sometime" which is met with silence.

Let the frustration begin!

Then on Tuesday, (this all happened on Saturday.) I got a text from him saying "We should hang out some time!"

I'm pretty sure I had already suggested this, but I wrote back "Yah definitely, give me a call sometime."

We'll see how that goes.

This weekend is J's B-day weekend, maybe it will produce some interesting stories to jump start me back into blogging. Our screaming match in his car last night is not something I really want to relive right now.

I'll just say, he's such a fucking drama queen!

Mourning Period

I have allowed myself a brief mourning period to get over the loss of the holiday season and subsequently my return from San Diego.

I am mourning San Diego and the perfect time spent with G more so than the holiday, but I am only giving myself through the weekend, because I bring this all upon myself.

Monday is the "snap-out-of-it" day. The day I start eating right again, going to the gym and accepting the way my life is.

Right now I'm still stuffing anything I can get my hands on down my throat, lamenting the fact that I miss G and his cozy apartment and huge T.V., cursing the day I ever moved away from San Diego, and hating everyone I see in this god-forsaken area of the world.

Just the weekend and I'm done. I promise.

My New Career

I seriously must have "therapist" stamped on my forehead.

For some reason, J thinks its okay to pour his heart out to me about his relationship (or lack there of) with WG. Its been pretty constant for about 5 days now, and I don't think I can take much more. Fortunately, this is my last day of work until the New Year and I'm heading down to hide out at my parents house, so I may be able to avoid it.

Friday, I managed to avoid most of it by having dinner with C and then going to see the Holiday. J had called while I was in the movie. His response when I walked in the door was.

"Thanks for the call back!"

I stared at him for a moment, blinked a few times and went into the kitchen.

"Where were you?" He called after me.

"I was at a goddamn movie." The interrogation was getting to me. I had to work the next day, but I sat and tried to have a conversation with P, Legs and J. When the conversation turned into a J sob fest, I had to retired.

" I have to work tomorrow, I'm heading to bed."

J can't stand to be out shone. "Well try having to study all weekend for a test you have no idea about."

I sighed and threw him a disgusted look. "Yes J I realize that your life is SO hard and SO miserable. You win! Goodnight!"

Later P told me that Legs got a kick out of the way I dealt with J. Its the ONLY way to deal with him. If you give him an inch, he'll take a mile.

Saturday had me nodding constantly over dinner as he went on and on and on about this relationship. I told him my opinions about WG. I believe her to be self-centered, snobby, not very attractive, and mean, not to mention having a very high, unfounded opinion of herself. She hooked up with her ex boyfriend, which sent J into a tailspin of emotions, resulting in tears. There really isn't anything much more uncomfortable that a guy crying.

All I know is after seeing M cry, I was never fully attracted to him again.

Sunday he walked in all red faced. I asked him what was wrong and he dissolved into tears. I do the best I can, but I can't understand all this for a sub-par girl.

I asked him point-blank to tell me ten things that make this girl worthy of such a display of emotions. He didn't really know.

"She's just great."

"Why?"

"I don't know, she just is."

"You have no reasons? If you cannot write me ten reasons then you have no reason to be acting this way." I'm starting to get mean.

"Okay, fine." He picks up the pen and starts to write.

"Sex doesn't count." The writing abruptly stops and he drops the pen.

I don't know Kate."

He kept wanting hugs, and at one point I was trying to watch "Love Actually" to get in the Christmas mood, and he kept coming down from studying and talking AT me, and at one point he sat on the ottoman at the end of the couch I was sprawled on and hugged my feet.

I hate to be touched, I'm not a huggy, touchy feely person. Not to mention someone touching, actually hugging my feet. It was just awkward. I'm trying to be nice and there for him, but its exhausting, especially when the girl is NOT WORTH IT!

It was when he started going into his abandonment issues, and his issues with his mother and what a bad parent she was and all when I checked out. I can't handle all his issues that are stemming from an unhealthy relationship that I warned him about in the beginning.

There's something we must all remember. Excluding her OWN relationships, Kate is usually right!

Things I'm Thinking About Right Now

My Pants

They're driving me crazy, but I love them. I love the way they look, I love the color, but still they're driving me crazy. Its like they're made wrong. They're this grey/blue color, flared cords and i realized today that they are from Aberchrombie.

I haven't shopped in Aberchrombie in years. I don't really look good in barely there, pre-pubescent clothing. The clothes look cute in the pictures and in the window, but one Aberchrombie fitting room session is enough to send this chick into starvation mode. (Which lasts for about 2 hours, lets face it i love food!)

Because I know I haven't bought anything from them in ages I try to trace the history of my pants. All of a sudden it hits me! I was wearing these pants when I made out with QB! Have I mentioned that I have a ridiculous memory? I made out with QB in 2000 the night before Thanksgiving (again with the memory thing!) Fine! I'll admit it! QB was my first kiss. If you do the math, I was 20. THAT'S why I remember so well.

Anyway, so I at least have had these pants for 6 years. That's as far back as I can trace them. For a girl who fills about three garbage bags a season with old (sometimes new) clothes, to have pants for 6 years is an accompishment.

I love them though. I wish it were unconditional, but the damn waist of them is out of proportion to the rest of my pants. When I stand, they look great. When I sit, I feel like a Two Ton Tessie, which my gut splooging every where, and I don't have a gut. These pants make one for me. Its like they attached a size two waist to size six pants. Humph!

Or it could be the massive amounts of Chinese food I ate last night.

Coffee Mate

I love coffee mate. I'm obsessed with it. I haven't met a Coffee Mate flavor I haven't liked. The lack of Coffee Mate is bound to produce uncharacteristic hissy fits, which in turn has prompted most of my family to keep copious amounts of the liquid joy on hand at all times so as not to have a grumpy, caffeine deprived crazy banshee yelling at them for not having any.

This same reason has also made my parents stock ACTUAL REAL coffee in their house as well, since they drink decaf. (What's the point?) Also, my dad was losing money on all the trips to Dunkin Donuts I was sending him.

Today I had a hybrid of Gingerbreat, French Vanilla and Coconut Cream in my coffee. Not because that's how I like it, but because that was all I had left. Interesting enough, it didn't taste half bad.

My Boss calls it my girly coffee. So be it! Girly coffee is yummy!

My Conversation with G Yesterday

First of all, he calls me at 3:30 in the afternoon. Obviously I'm at work. I answer anyway, because I hate my job and secretly hope they will fire me for taking personal phone calls at work.

G: "Something wrong with your computer?"

Me: "Yah, How did you know?" (remember its possible that he's a secret spy, so I'm always suspicious of him and how he knows things.)

"Well I emailed you, and you haven't responded and I know you wouldn't be at lunch, so I looked on messenger and you weren't signed in, and you don't sign off of that until you leave, so I figured something must be wrong with your computer."

"You do realize if I had done the same thing, Email, twice, and then call you at work, you would call me crazy."

"Well this is about your Christmas presents."

"Oh in that case, continue." I had sent him my wish list a few nights ago. He insists that I make one even though I feel funny doing so. I can never think of anything on the spot. The list was random in itself, containing books, DVDs, a Padres baseball hat, and a Noise Machine from Brookstone. My heater is waking me up about 3-5 times a night, and of course when i wake up i have to use the bathroom. Its all just a pain in the ass, I just want to be able to not hear the CLANK, CLANK, CLANK of the stupid heater. Punching it and kicking it have yet to produce results. I told G in Lieu of the Noise Machine, he could come and take the termostat out of A's room and put it in mine, but he opted out of that.

"So this baseball hat," he continues. "Are you sure you want a small?"

"Yes, I want a small, I have a small head. Trust me I've tried on Boston ones. I even got one as a large, exchanged it for a medium, and that was too big, but I was too embarrassed to exchange it again, so I gave it to M." It took a little more description that is too tedious for words, but I think he finally got it. I mean I sent a PICTURE!

"Okay, so what sizes are you? Just in case?"

I rattle off my sizes.

"What about jackets, you know, just in case?" I can see there are going to be NO surprises this Christmas.

"I'm a woman's medium, men's small."

"You're really a medium?"

"Yes, I can wear small in shirts too, but usually I go for mediums."

"Well I'm just thinking because I'm a medium, but you have a um..." He searching how to put this delicately, "a larger chest."

"You do realize that men's sizes and woman's sizes are different?"

"But you're not that much shorter than me."

"I'm shaped completely different than you are! I mean most of my shirts are medium, if not medium than small. Do I look obscene in my shirts?"

"No! Not at all! In fact you could stand to look more obscene. I just can't judge sizes. I'm just saying I would think with your chest...I don't know."

I laugh, its funny how clueless he is. How could he think that a men's medium and a woman's medium are the same. How can he not see that we have completely different shapes? He just doesn't think, its almost endearing.

I'm still going to use this conversation as ammo for a long time to come.

On My Stellar Work Ethic

I have a meeting at 12:30 at our other campus. I'm not good at meetings. I have the attention span of a toddler. I space out, I lose my train of thought, and I'm horrible at getting my point across when I actually can think of something to say.

I work weird. I always have. Its all in my head. I don't write things down, I know our clients on sight and i almost have all the schedules committed to memory as well as room assignments. My former co-worker used to call me rain-man and periodically give me pop-quizzes.

Most of all the other campus is a 30 minute drive. While I like the idea of 30 minutes of no one being able to bother me, its the fact that the meeting falls right in the middle of my lunch hour. This means I don't GET my lunch hour. My one blissful hour of not being bother by annoying work problems and I get one whole hour to read. Yes, I read. A lot. Its my one hobby. Sad to say my lunch hour is the only thing that gets me through my day.

I know you're thinking. Why doesn't this whiny crack pot get a new job? Well she's working on it, its just that the holiday's have made this crack pot lazy and complacent, and the fact that the big boss has generously given everyone two weeks off, make it very hard to leave.

Come January, the job hunt begins.

I'm sure it will be hard to find a job where I am able to do NOTHING all day. Actually it may be a good thing NOT to find that again.

Now I have to go perfect my "interested face" for the meeting.

Its Called a Pub Crawl for a Reason

4:30 on a Saturday afternoon found me perched on a rickety bar stool, slurping a potent pink liquid through a two foot straw out of a large ceramic bowl.

Hong Kong was the first stop for me and my friends on the Pub Crawl that we attended this past weekend. For future notice, Hong Kong is not the place you want to start a pub crawl, unless you want a jump start on your hang over, which is precisely what we got.

Hong Kong is famous for its Scorpion Bowls. For 17.25, you can get a massive bowl filled with an unidentified alcoholic substance, that tastes like pineapple juice, and you can share it with as many people as you want. We had two in a 25 minute period. We had missed the first three bars, I think we were over-compensating. They're damn good though!

From there it was a blur: A beer at Clark's, a beer at Cheers, food and beers at Hennessey's, a break at The Bell and Hand. I did see someone get kicked out of The Bell and Hand fro knocking a hamburger bun of a waitress's tray. Sullivan's Tap was next. It was a very narrow, strange bar, where we had yet ANOTHER beer. I was feeling pretty good then, but was starting to
coming down by the time we were on to the final bar, the Harp.

I was pretty done by the time I got there. I was just sitting starting off into space, wondering what time would be the right time to leave with out a) being rude and b) seeming like a loser. I was just looking forward to my bed.

Finally we decided to head back to my apartment, having our fill of the pub crawl. The Harp was starting to get crowded with barely 21 year olds and this old fogey was ready to be done.

(I'm posting this for lack of anything else to post, but I'm definitely still struggling with my writing and inspiration.)