Month: September 2006 (Page 1 of 3)

I’m trying to imagine my aged self, recollectin’ and chillin’ and throwing lines like “Ay yi yi, it’s the motherfucking D-R-E, Dr. Dre, motherfucker!” when I’m sitting in the social room with my other knittin’ bizatches. It sounds strange, but I can see it.

I’m on a HUGE learning curve this week. I won’t sugar-coat it, if I don’t think I’m going to use a particular knowledge, my brain doesn’t bother. I’ve got so many ideas & craziness floating around in there, it doesn’t need anything else. But obviously, I need to learn the car stuff. So I’ve been doing that. Then, my work peep gives me a nice lesson in iTunes & how I can listen to other people’s music at the office, and so I’m sitting her rockin’ out to Dr. Dre (motherfucker) Chronic 2001, courtesy of one of my homies. I have two awesome stand-out memories with this album, and I hope they stay with me until I die, because when I listen to the music & see those moments, it’s like turning a light on inside & I smile, and feel great affection for my friends and amusement at the situation. (Part of the amusement is that I’m listening to Dr. Dre in hte first place.) The first memory is JWo and I listening to it in my old apartment on the plaza, and playing dominoes. Good, good times. The second is when Liz, Ashley & I rolled out to the company picnic with it cranked, and we all had bad attitudes and it was just so funny & fitting and SO not the personality of that agency/the owner/most of the employees. Mmmmm or really three white gals from the Midwest, but please. Disagree & I bust a cap in yo ass.

Speaking of fitting in, it’s a funny thing, isn’t it? We get such pressure and influence to be a part of something, and yet we reward & laud independence and creativity and standing out from the crowd. Being different can be the most demonized and also the most lauded characteristic in a human being. Most of the people I hang out with and adore are not cookie-cutter type folks – and I’m getting in a minivan with five of them tomorrow morning! :) I hope they’ll let me play some rap music on our drive…..

If my driving in the new car is any indication, I’m entering my twilight years. I think I finally started to relax the last five minutes of my drive home tonight. It’s not that the Murano is THAT much bigger than the Civic? It’s the combination of about ten things: I feel like a rock star in it (an 80-year-old rock star), I think everyone should be looking at my car because it IS so pretty, I can’t tell where the front of my car actually ends, I am still getting the rythym of the acceleration and braking, the car does not even require I put a key INTO it, which is very discombobulating, and sometimes I think the car could be smarter than me.
Nah. I will never yield to the machines!

But I have been a gingerly-ginger driver & I look forward to getting more comfortable in it. It’s beautiful. I promise, I’ll get some pictures, but I’ve had deadlines, people.

Which brings us to Manic. Hm. Yes, tonight had something of “If You Give A Mouse A Cookie” quality to it, as I realized it was going to rain. So I told the Wo I was going to pull the dog crates that had been in my dad’s truck into the garage. And I went into the garage and started to clear room. Once that was started, it only made sense to make enough room for the new car, too. Shesus. JWo thought I was upstairs crafting and he finally came looking for me & discovered me, filthy & sweaty, going a million miles an hour. So we got everything in the garage, after dinner I did some decluttering & cleaning, and then I finished the umpteen yards of pompom trim sewing, did the iron-ons, filled up bags with goodies, and multi-tasked like crazy.
And now I’m as tired as a 92-year old woman and I best be off to bed. I promise, pictures of crafting & the car are coming. We leave bright & early Friday morning to head to the Quad Cities & I’ve still got to pack. And maybe find some music. And swing by the dealership to drop off one last piece of paperwork. And who knows what else I need to do. I need to squeeze some Wo snuggling in there, too.

Sounds like I need a list! I love lists. And sleeping! And taking my teeth out & putting them in my dog’s mouth!
HAHAHA just kidding. Kinda.

Well, I’ve been up since 5 a.m. today. Not to go for a bracing constitution in the cool morning air, or even a brisk walk on the treadmill in the basement, no, not even to really clean, but to expel all my nervous energy in the general direction of South SouthCraft. Which can obviously be found south of Due West Knitting. Because I can go crazy for crafting, and nothing inspires me like a road trip with all my homies! We’re caravaning (in a minivan!) to the Quad Cities to help our dear Kristin celebrate her wedding.

So I spent the morning doing some furrowed-brow sewing and laboring over different feet for the sewing machine, because I don’t know about you, but I don’t do a lot of pom-pom trim sewing, and yet here I am, sewing yards and yards of pompom trim and the standard presser foot says, “Hello, crazy lady who never gets up this early! I shall bunch the pom poms under my black sproingy thing and you shall furrow your brow and stick yourself with the pearl-topped pins in frustration!” So I gave up with the sewing and decided to take the factory-approach, and just start pinning and deal with the sewing later. Oh, and let’s just note for the record that I’m not sewing with regular thread. No. Metallic polyester and that took several go-rounds to thread ‘er up. But it’s strong! And shiny! And we love shiny.

Then I spent my lunch making another crafty item. I brought tools and supplies from home and I think I scared my boss who dared to come in to my office over lunch and ask me to get him tickets to a concert. Frankly, I don’t mind getting him tickets, but the requests do make me laugh. It’s like people think we get tickets to EVERYthing and if we don’t, we just bend over and print them out our ass. But that’s dessert talk. Anyhoo, I got most everything done, at least for those who are travelling, and I promise, I’ll put up pictures of ALL of this once they’ve been gifted, because it’s kind of a surprise, even though all of my travelling companions read my blog. HI! Start drawing straws RIGHT NOW for the privilege to sit next to ME for 6 hours each way!

Speaking of shiny objects, why the nervous energy? Oh I guess it’s because we bought a NEW CAR!!!! Come on DOWN! Last night the Wo and I drove and haggled and sat for a long time and then signed a whole bunch of papers, and we pick it up tonight, and yes, it’s a 2006 Nissan Murano, dark blue, tan interior (and amusingly I wrote to someone “leather interior, as opposed to that leather exterior”, because nothing says luxury like a burnished leather car.) I am a little agog, a little nervous, a lot excited, and now I have to clean out the garage again.

CIRCLE OF LIFE people. It always leads back to the goddamn garage.

In the quiet, in the dark
When the sadness rushes in
No distractions or obligations
To push it away.

“Time” they say, knowingly.
And I know that They Know.
Time will heal you.
It takes time.
Time is your best friend.

Time time time time time time time time time time time

Don’t they see?
All I have
Is this time, only time,
And with each passing day
Makes the point where you stopped
So much further away.

My truth is a prison
Walled in by sharp rock
That only cuts me
When I try to break out.

All these lessons,
All these truths.
All my tears,
All this time.

I hope they are right.

The women who handle the ActionLine for Kansas City.

Can I just say, every time I’ve called them? They have rocked my world and been very helpful. (Now, one time I got sent on to Sewer and they said I needed to talk to Water, who shipped me back to Sewer, and it took several months to attend to a water pipeline leak on a major street, but I blame those departments, not ActionLine.) They talk to you like you are a sister. SISTER. One of them. And that is, right there, reason to call them every day. Helpful is just the beginning of how they answer the phone. They laugh, they tell you about their dogs, they sympathize and they give it to you straight.

To date though, it’s my friend Beth who got the best response, in regards to the witches on her street (and I say witches, I mean yes, they cast spells and have a hulking “familiar”) who rummage through everyone’s recycling and make a mess: “Girl. She CRAZY.”

I have a feeling if the ActionLine ladies were running the city, we’d get a lot more done…..

My spirits are a little better today, despite my continued fishbowl-state with Le Grande HeadColde. It’s like when you were little, and you were really, super-duper puking-up sick, and then by the third day, you could sit up and watch TV (if you had one, which I didn’t, so I just played with a stick and a rag and read 800 books) and you got to eat a little sherbet and people were cheerful and not so worried about you and talked about when you would be ready to go back to school? That’s what today’s like for me. And I’ve discovered that when people call me? I BRAY AT THEM. Like a mule. Cheerfully braying, with my excessively nasal voice and gasping because I still sorta have to breathe through my mouth, which is UBER sexy. I’ve had my two least-favorite reps call me today, I’ve dealt with car dealers, and everything’s been handled at a very high volume with an undercurrent of “wheeze”. Interestingly, I’m more inclined to talk to those who annoy when I’m sick, mostly because I seem to have lost my filter, and I say whatever in hell I want.

At one point, I even expounded on the remarkable ability of football players because not only do they have to memorize all their plays/maneuvers? They get knocked down and hurt and STILL come back and remember where they’re supposed to run. I’m not saying they should get Nobel Peace Prizes or nothin’, but I know if someone clotheslined me in the parking garage, I sure as hell wouldn’t remember where I was going, let alone what the F-12 running play involved. That and I have to have “offsides kick” re-defined for me every season. Sigh. I wish I could blame the cold, but it’s just plain empty-headedness. I do have the hand signal for HOLDING down pat though.

So, I’m a-brayin’ and feeling a bit more cheerful. Tired as a mule (don’t even call me an ass) and for god’s sake, don’t ever call me Jenny.

I stopped at Target this morning on my way to work, to procure a new lamp (because working in the Heart of Darkness has gotten depressing), and purchase every cold remedy and medicine that promises to eradicate my snuffles sooner. I was unable to purchase the kinds of medicine you take the little hard plastic card to the pharmacy, because the pharmacy was closed. I was also very disappointed that they did not have a wide selection of Theraflu.

I settled on Airborne, two types of Cold-Eeze lozenges (clinically proven to end your cold sooner!), Tylenol Severe Cold Daytime, and Theraflu Severe Cold Nighttime. I probably have enough zinc in me right now to pop pennies out my nose. (Did you know the copper penny is made primarily of zinc? There you have it. Dazzle your friends with exceptionally useful trivia.)

One of these items apparently triggered the checkout girl to ask for my I.D. However, before I could even react, she said, “Ah, no. Never mind, don’t worry about it.” (When I have a cold, I feel like I’m in an underwater tank and the rest of the world is moving at high-speed.) I asked her why, and she said that she didn’t understand why someone needing medicine was supposed to be carded, and that she was supposed to check for ID if you looked (something) 40 years old. Now, even in my fog, my curiousity gets piqued, and I said, “Over or under 40?” (wondering, have they profiled the meth-cooker? What is the demographic breakdown? All the mug shots I’ve seen of meth-related criminals on the TV illustrate that meth ages you RAPIDLY. It is not kind to the skin, first of all, and you might be 25 but hooked on meth, you look like a 50-year-old battling cancer.) She replied, “Under 40, I’m supposed to card.” She went on to be dismissive of the rule and sympathetic to my cold.

Huh.

I have some choices here. Either I look well over 40? Or I don’t fit the meth-addict-cooker profile. Or I had a really apathetic (or sensible) cashier. I think I’ll take any explanations except the first one.

Oh, yes, it’s Talk Like A Pirate Day. Someday we’ll finally get that Swear Like A Sailor Day approved, and I can have one day of shoutin’ ye ol’ FUCKS and ASSWIPES and PIGFUCKERS about without fear of offendin’. Meanwhile, I continue to swear heartily with a swipe of discretion and sometimes I just have to yell “Sorry!”

Let’s see. Is it possible to eat too much sushi? I think not. We dined at a restaurant yesterday with reps, and it was not-so-good sushi. Not as in, AHOY! These rolls have washed ashore ripe and not fer eatin’! But as in, I have had so much better, and these are a disappointment. Iffin’ you want perspective, I had some grocery store sushi today – eel and California roll – and it was better than what we had yesterday. Ah yes, the horizon just fell into place for you there, didn’t it?

Speaking of perspective, it truly was one of my least favorite assignments in my art classes back in ye old day, when I was a spry pirate and didn’t care that a studio art major meant NOTHING to the outside world, wherein the outside world equals a real paycheck. I just saw nothing enjoyable about using a RULER for “drawing”. I didn’t do badly at it, but I didn’t put my best hook forward, as it were, and I would have some criticism from my prof for the third-street-over not quite matching up to the horizon point. And my other pet peeve is when people spell it “prospective”. NO! You are whacked on the knuckles. Or worse – the terrifying scene from that Jack London book where Cookie gets dragged behind the ship & a shark eats his foot.

This may explain today’s ramblings: I believe I have the makings of a cold, which is lovely, to be the Snuffling Pirate today. I may go home a smidge early and have a lie-down. Can you imagine how hard it would be to blow your nose with a hook for a hand? Hello, nose piercings.

OK, I think we’ve covered enough terrain in my crazy brain for you to move on to the next blog safely. Enjoy. ARRRRRRRRR.

I was not aware I-70 took you straight to Lawrence, KS. (How long have I lived here?) I have only EVER gone there via K-10, which, if you’re leaving my home on the south siiiiide, makes sense. So. Imagine my surprise when I noticed on my li’l Mapquest map after I got to Lawrence that I-70 came swooping down and seemed to kiss it on the forehead. Huh. Would have probably cut about 20 minutes off my drive, because I was Up North, which amuses me to capitalize it, because living in Minneapolis meant there was a universal term, “Up North”, which meant going to one of the million lakes and most likely a cabin. The term was so universal, they sell sweatshirts with “Up North” on ’em.

I was, as I was saying, Up North, and so I decided I should get on I-35 and take that to I-435 to catch K-10. (This is so fucking fascinating for all of you who don’t live here, isn’t it?) ANYway, I’m just recapping my weekend, and basically I spent a lot of time driving on Saturday – up to see my friend Roger, we had lunch, I then headed off to Lawrence for a baby shower (my dear friend Ashley) and then back home again, home again, ladybug. I believe I was gone for a total of seven hours. The wind was beastly, and the sensation of being in the car, along with the buffeting of the wind, was still in my body when I went to sleep. Again, I realize: FASCINATING.

This is the glamorous life. Today? Spent mostly in pj’s, crying in my beer as the Chiefs lost in overtime, stomping my feet outside Einstein’s for closing early (motherfuckers)(I had gotten dressed though), and knitting a pair of socks for my stepmom. There is no car news (woe, woe is me. I weep, I gnash my teeth, I even bore myself now, the routine is so familiar…) There are no big exciting meetings this week (thankfully). I shall have to take pictures of my socks (and their conversations) for the blog this week, because other than that, there’s not loads of anything exciting and new…… except it’s premiere week & my poor DVR is going to be smokin’, as I preview some of the new shows and decide whether I should watch them long-term – and whether they are going to have enough of an audience to warrant buying them for my clients. We watched the Amazing Race premiere tonight, and if you watched – and didn’t tear up at Sarah climbing that wall with her prosthetic leg? – than you are hard-core and probably won’t like reading this blog and you, my friend, should drive to Lawrence on horseback.

There’s probably a trail. For my Amish friends. And it’s still probably faster than my route. SHEESH.

…why I married him…..

(running narration from the Wo who was driving home today)

“Get out of the WAY you motherfucking crippled bastard! Jesus! He’s got 8 car lengths, (splutter) GO! OH my god he’s got a fucking KNOB on his steering wheel.”

Ahhhhh, road rage. We’re such a matched set.