I just realized that the crux, the very center of my insecurities, the little voice inside that says “you’re not good enough” – oh my god, that is the mantra and nature of advertising! on all levels, of course, and you could say the big level is obvious – you, stupid consumer demographic Segment Two, need this powerfully strong deodorant to attract a mate because you are lacking in mate-attracting skills, and our deodorant will help you evolve and disguise all your shortcomings at the same time! Buy now! here’s a coupon. – but on the smaller, day-to-day level, oh my gosh, it is pervasive! I chatted with the Dawgg about this, and we agree: we’re all so human and frail it just sucks sometimes.
And I should note that I don’t think this is inherent to me. I think it’s just the nature of the NuBeast, a.k.a., corporate culture in America right now. Where fewer people are doing more work, and everyone’s running as fast as they can – and the most they can do is look fearfully over their shoulder, hoping that their own job isn’t in danger & maybe that wounded zebra in accounting will distract the Lions of Management long enough to get into those trees and hide. I imagine the people of Enron were much like surprised water buffalo & disheartened to discover their oasis teeming with ravenous crocodilia!
I’m in an excellent mood. I love this weather, (cool, cloudy, ever-threatening rain), I have my shopping list made, and my hubby can walk today with so much more ease than the past three days. We are eating Thai food tonight. The darkness has lifted. I still have garlic breath from lunch and I don’t care. Perhaps a little chocolate from my Drawer of Contentment will help everything be that much happier.
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“You can’t be a nonconformist if you don’t drink coffee.” 
Well. My yarn dye-lot debacle disaster detrimental experience has been resolved, sorta. I finally was able to talk to Lori and she was profusely apologetic. This was desired result #1. Isn’t it usually, before we got lawyers involved? You just want recognition. For a job well-done, for the pain you’re in, for having tried. In this case, for the umpteen hours spent knitting to discover your yarn is two different dye lots. Anyway, they’re going to research how I can dye my garment, once I get it finished, and after many wrangling arounds of what to do to make me happy, I decided not to be the HaterBeyotch and said 25% off my next order would be just swell. I have a feeling that no matter what I buy, those dye lots are gonna match!
So, I guess I’ll have to play around and decide what to spend more money on with them – I have GOT to knit the poncho though, so what my next project for me should be is an unknown.
And sort of a victory, James is going to the doctor this afternoon. I’m sure he will not be happy with the experience, but he is not a woman and therefore doesn’t use a speculum to gauge the level of awfulness for doctor visits. Now if only I could cut that damned padlock off the dog kennel. I am not strong enough and that makes me angry. I did not try to burst the padlock with my steely angry glare, however, because I don’t think my powers have grown, and my computer at work has not exploded yet – and it’s under that glare a lot longer than the dog kennel.
It’s Craft Lunch Day, so I need to get some lunch, and then do a li’l decorative scarf knitting!
I’m going to not be such a hater today. However, let’s get the hate out of the way. Things that are wrong with today:
1. James is on crutches & therefore I am responsible for all ambulatory activity. This means taking care of the dogs, and since James has lost the key to the (locked) kennel, the only way to put the dogs up is to LIFT the kennel off the concrete on the far corner,and this morning, Miss Polly decided she just didn’t want to go under. My neighbors probably are praying for me still, given the foul stream of Curse that I did not Edit and in fact, Shouted. As sweat was running in my eyes.
A few Thwacks later & she is now safely inside her kennel.
2.
3. My onion breath
4. My headache
5. All this work!
Now, the good stuff.
1. James talked to (and showed his ankle to) Sarah’s fiance’, who’s in school for Physical Therapy & he said it isn’t his Achilles Tendon, but either a heel spur or a small tendon that goes to the heel. Excellent. He also said a doctor would just say, “Stay off of it.” So, crutches, good investment!
2. Got a call from my insurance agent, Ted Wheeler. Ted’s the bomb. I always want to shop around & then I talk to Ted & his service is Grade A. He had better news – they’ve adjusted zones & apparently for a couple years I was overpaying in insurance! So I’m getting a check for a couple hundred dollars. Yay!
3. I forgot to input round 2 rates for one of my stations, so I may be making more progress than earlier thought!
4. I now have the greatest assistant ever helping me with my paper palace, and she is doing an awesome job, which helps me do a better job on the bigger stuff!
5. Teaching Tunisian crochet was fun last night.
6. Diet Coke with Lime. I loves it.
7. BOLT CUTTERS. They will be my salvation. And also help me solve Bad Issue #1, because I will cut that padlock off and put in a new one, with numerous keys, and the main key will be on a small boat anchor so it is not easily LOST!
Well, the end of the work day is nearly here. I have just taken 3 Tylenol, which will hopefully sustain me through my volunteering tonight, and I need to remember to stop at Roger & David’s to get my makeup bag so I can once again, be pretty.
Today, I am a very tired hater. I am stuck in a bad spot & all I hear is the tape “I cannot do anything right.” I think sometimes I just stop trying because it’s simpler to sit & fail than to be active & fail. But then I’ll turn into that lady who’s skin grew into her sofa & they had to cut her out of it. And then she died. Badness.
I do not enjoy depression. (OH, scoff. I know there are some out there who practically revel in it. But no, they’re not truly happy.)
I feel like work & life are big giant boulders, and while they are not bouncing down the mountain to land on my head, I feel like I’m wedged under them & my shoulders & chest are aching. I think that if I were an Army Ranger, this is what, say, hour 52 feels like on that no-sleep week of training. I am automatically piloting my life. It sucks.
I ended my week informing James that everyone is out to get me, him included. The first half of the week was him gittin’ me, then people at work lined up. Conspiracies abound. I know that muther F’er in that white van that nearly ran over Kristin was really coming for me. All signs point to a need for serious hibernation from society, living in a yurt, and taking baths in hot springs with mud.
Oh, wait, I can’t, we have James’ family reunion tomorrow! Yippee! (these things are always hard, I never remember anyone, because we only go every other year it seems, and I don’t have any history with them.) I am taking the remaining pickles I made (thanks Martha, the zucchini pickles were a HIT.) Then it’s celebrate James’ birthday on sunday, complete with a trip to the dog track (that’s new to me), PF Chang’s (ok, I’ll stay in society through Sunday) and cake & ice cream & Six Feet Under. Somewhere in there I have to finish furry mittens for felting (if only my name were Fiona!) , do a TON of work I brought home (oh lord, I just can’t wait! death, take me now! wait! lettuce wraps & Costco cake await! I’ll do the work), and then the 800 other home things I never do: laundry, vacuuming, gardening, petkeeping (martha! send that dude over to wash my beasts), and have I mentioned the entire storage unit we’ve unloaded in the garage that IS ALL MINE? That remains to be sorted through, and where is that Mary Poppins wench when you need her? Spoonful of sugar won’t make this chore list go down, more like half a bottle of Bombay Sapphire.
The good news is, the mitten’s going FAST.
The bad news is, the Chiefs defense SUCK’T in their pre-season game. They must have many conspiracy people working against them. Too.
The good news is, my Auntie Karen did not get hit by the hurricane & they are safe.
There are many good things, I know this. I just get tired, and this was a week of Extraordinary Picking Upon My Nerves Like a Banjo, and I do not need another cross-eyed inbred young man on a bridge plucking out the rythym of my life next week.
We watched part one of Kill Bill tonight, and only Uma can make a canary-yellow track suit look good. I think if I got me some Okinawa steel, people at work might quit messin’ with me. Maybe they’d start calling me “The Czarina” (like “The Bride”), too, and then maybe I’d grow to be 6′ tall and have willowy limbs & really long toes, just like Uma. But then I’d have to deal with Quentin’s obsession, and as much as I love his movies, I do not need someone like that obsessed with me on top of everything else. Plus I’d probably be too tall to comfortably drive the Civic.
Hey, it’s Friday the 13th. No wonder this week blew.
Can I just say the DQ commercials are flippin’ hilarious? It only took ten+ years since I worked on that damn account, and they didn’t even have to use a monkey.
Julia Child, we will miss you. What a life lived, though. Bravo.
Walking towards the small kitchen, carrying my EMPTY Diet Coke with Lime can, that I had just finished dramatically crushing in front of Renee’ and Troy to illustrate the stress levels plaguing our department & Stephanie passed me, and chirped, “Goin’ to put that in the ice machine?”
I was literally doubled over, which is probably a frightening sight to see, however, it gave me great amusement and I will take it wherever I can git it ’round here. (See previous post about yesterday’s coke-in-the-ice-machine. It still won’t be as funny to you. Promise.)
The second funny (Fright!) of the day came from Kristin, Princess of Yarn (I am the Czarina because I need to be foreign.) http://www.ptleader.com/main.asp?SectionID=36&SubSectionID=55&ArticleID=10138 Dudes & Dudettes everywhere, make SURE your metal needles have not been packed with gunpowder, and I forsee this tragic incident having a ripple effect BACK through the airline industry and the FAA banning the ol’ knittin’ needles again from air travel. Because it wouldn’t be easier to just garrotte somebody with a circular needle, I’d like to try to pierce somebody’s aorta with a size 0 needle that I’ve made razor sharp. Or create a dynamically exploding, highly targeted weapon by jamming C4 into the barrel of the needle. Nobody will believe you’re serious when you try to set a needle up to their head, declaring you MUST be flown to Tahiti right NOW. Whatever. I’m beginning to think that everything, virtually EVERYTHING in this world (or at least this country) is sustained by focusing on nit-pickley little shit that won’t truly make a difference but creates volumes upon volumes of busy work for managerial types to “supervise” and none of the really goddamn important stuff gets attended to, because THAT is too hard. I do it, everybody does it, but you know what? People who make shitloads more money than me need to not do it, and focus on the hard stuff & get it figured out so the rest of us stop having tension headaches that start right about now.
Morrissey’s singing about the Girlfriend in a Coma. That takes me back to such a simpler time. A time when you looked at the clock and said, “Yes, I can go to the Bar right now for Happy Hour, I will skip this godAwful Physiology of the Brain class!” God I hope if I ever end up in a Coma, James does not pull the plug on me.
OH now on Retro Flashback at Lunch it’s “Detachable Penis”. My Uterus blogging friend might enjoy that as a theme song?
1. Finish the tartalette scarf for Phyllis (birthday: 8/16)
2. Knit & felt Fuzzy Mittens for Yarn Store/Class. Yarn: Cascade 220 in pink, plus a furry pink eyelash.
3. Knit & Felt Door Mitten for Yarn Store/Class. Yarn: Cascade 220 in bright cheery red.
4. Knit (uhhh, why do I keep putting “KNIT” as the active verb.) a poncho.
segue: Yes. Everybody under the sun will be sporting a poncho, and I figure with a quicky-trippy YO, k2 tog, knit the next row kinda pattern, I too, can sport a poncho of size. I plan to use my elann.com mohair that is a blend of raspberries & browns (I know, I do an internal “YIKES” every time I think about it, as I own nothing, repeat, NOTHING brown.) I am pairing the mohair with Lamb’s Pride in fuchsia, to dominate the browns in their cheery bright pinkness and sustain the raspberries in the mohair. I hope it all works out.
5.
Oh, don’t be fooled. I probably have enough yarn, unfinished objects, and patterns to do a list totalling well over 100. The funny thing is, with all my stash & needles, I did NOT have a set of #11 DP’s! So I risked a ticket (parking in the no parking zone/fire hydrant spot in front of the Studio over lunch) & bought some today. James just laughed at me. Eventually, I will own the world & all the needles and yarn will be MINE, MINE MINE I telll you! MOOHAHAHAHAHA!
On a completely different note, somebody stashed an unopened can of Coke in the kitchen’s ice machine this morning. Totally wigged me out. I live in squalor, I’ll admit it. Dirt, germs, etc., don’t normally get me too freaked out. But this just seemed to violate too many things. I give to you State’s Evidence marked #1: The ice machine is not a flippin’ COOLER! 2. People CONSUME the ice out of that machine, not put it in ziploc baggies and place it on their temples because they happen to work in a place that ignores morale as it circles the drain like the graying hair from your temples circles the drain in the shower. 3. People just seem to think they can do whatever the F they want because they want it and screw everybody else. A witness “outed” the culprit & now I do fear for my safety, however, I do weigh about 3x the perpetrator’s freshly-showered weigh-in weight, so I will trust in my ability to sit on her and subdue her, should a knife fight take place in the parking garage. God help me if it happens in the parking garage though, because the “security guards”, and we use the word “security” quite loosely, are comprised of a man who could star in the Dukes of Hazzard – and maybe did – a woman who never moves & stares out the door like a little nutcracker doll each night, and then – oh god help me if it’s his shift – the man who is the father of the Dukes of Hazzard security guard, and sports about 4 teeth. Since he mostly smokes, I don’t think he needs his teeth.
Well, I am frightened about the volume of work descending upon me, and I wish it were just my knitting list that were weighing on me. OH I have to go to bed, Reno 911 is back on as a repeat, and I love love love that show, but I DVR’d it so I should watch it at a time when I don’t need immediate sleep, like now, 11:31 p.m. CST!
I wrote a whole post and then tried to publish the Julia Stiles’ scarf in it, and lost my whole damn blog. Anyway, the curse of being a knitter is to delight in all things knitted, even at the movies. I coveted her scarf, it looks very Colinette-y!
Here’s the scarf. Beeee-yooo-tiful!