At Some Point, Writing Will Be Required

Or at least that's what I tell my 10th grader.

Summer 2010...the summer of weird.  The summer of wrong.  The summer of disbelief. I look very much forward to the crisp air of the Fall.  I want that killer frost to rein in all that has become over-grown, from the path that leads to my back alley (take a machete with you to help you find the trash cans) to all of the panic and over-flowing emotion of the last few months.

This summer has been a culmination of all kinds of things.  So much has happened, and all of it unexpected.  Nothing went down like I planned.  Even the unspoken plans--those secret hopes that you share with no one--had ugly crashes for endings.

Most of what happened, happened because of something I said, or some action I took.  I take full responsibility--for the good and the bad.  Because I was unable to go with the flow--because I had a want, or a vision of "right" or "true" and because felt it worth the effort to pursue, I find myself right where I am at this moment, exhausted and feeling defeated, with one of the few good thoughts left in my head be "Well, at least I tried."

The other thing floating around up there, the deflated spirit revealer, the one I've been saying entirely too much lately, is a very short one:  "Never mind".

How very martyrific, that Never Mind.  Woe is me--the victim of my own stupidity.  I really thought I was something, but I was wrong.  Never mind!

My intention all along has been to make a complete ass of myself while simultaneously dunking my career in the toilet.  Never mind how convincing this embarrassment of mine has been--I meant to do that.  I meant to do ALL of that.  Clearly it was intentional, or I would not have gone after it with such voracity, or kept up the chase so long past the time it was prudent to do so.

So basically, I'm an idiot.  But at least I am a spirited idiot...at least I try.

I wonder what it is about me that causes me to continue to deny to the world that I might actually be feeling something--that I may have any vulnerabilities.  Even a person with serial killer level self-esteem who had the summer I had would be sitting here in late August, questioning their own sanity.  I don't think I have ever been proven wrong so many times in my whole life.

Today, the weather gave that first hint of cool.  To me it signified the end of the summer toiling and the beginning of that time of year where we can enjoy a short rest before the work of surviving the cold begins.  As summer's go, this one was not my best work.  It pains me to have to put it down, having seen nothing positive come from it after so much scrambling.  There weren't even any funny stories to tell, just plenty of examples of me being stupid, which, for me, anyway, is about as un-funny as it gets.

As much as it is sad for me to see nothing good come from all of my efforts, it is a relief to feel that psychological season change.  It's like the buzzer finally ringing at the end of a game that you'd been losing since the coin toss.

Unlike in knitting, you can't unravel a summer that you hate and turn it into something you like.  Or can you?  After all--I did learn an awful lot this summer.  I learned I am fat, untalented and uninteresting, not to mention barely employable.  Those are finites that I can work with.  I can be Not Fat, and I can make myself more employable.  I can just stop wasting my time with people who actually believe the other two--they are idiots, anyway, and they'll be gone like the weeds, come the snow.

The very best thing to come on the cool air this day was that thing that you are looking at--words.  Lots and lots of words.  Permission to say "Fuck it" and write and not worry about it.  I don't give a shit if you're interested.  I'm interested, and since I have finally re-captured the fortress of my brain, mine is the only opinion that matters there.  I may submit more humbly now, having been beat up a little, but "submit" I will--it's that little button in the corner that I am about to push...

Drive-By

 

• Currently obsessed with pretzel sticks dunked in cream cheese.  I don't want the cure for that, just let me over-indulge.
• Had to abandon Cookie A project due to screwing up the Cookie A project!  I dropped a stitch about an inch ago and failed to notice it until a gigantic hole emerged.  Whoops!  :-D  OK, moving on...purchased alpaca (it's a sickness, OK???) at Needlework Unlimited and am making something dumb while I gear up for another run at the pattern with more cajones.  By something dumb I mean entirely stockinette.  So simple I can do it while drunk.  Don't ask me how I know that.
• True Love Ways.  Buddy Holly.  Damn near perfect, isn't it?
• I moved into a new bedroom.  OK, let me clarify that:  I moved into A bedroom--I was basically camped out, couch surfing in my own house, before.  I never worried about my children having their own rooms while I had no room--I figured, like all things, this too will pass, and one day, I'll have all the rooms.  Of course, now that I have a room, I need a TV for my room.  Well, a TV or a man--either/or.  TV's are rarely annoying, so I'm leaning toward the electronic.
• With my new room came 5 new dresses!  OK, actually only one "new" dress and four dresses that had been hiding in my daughter's HEINOUS closet for 2 years--I had forgotten all about them.  The one "new" dress, literally still had the tags on it (until today) and had never been worn.  I might have a clothes issue...maybe.  Maybe if you look into my new room, all you see is a bed and shoes and clothes.  Then more clothes.  And some yarn hiding behind the clothes, but mostly clothes.  Yay Clothes!

 

Randomness of the Un-Quiet Mind

So...How was YOUR week?


--I started a new project by that sick, sadistic monster, Cookie A.  OK...she's probably not sick, or a monster.  But the patterns she writes are definitely the work of a (delightfully brilliant) sadist. I suffer. Can't you see how I suffer?

--With a new, complicated project to keep me busy, there has been a obscene amount of television.  I have personally watched at least 30 hours of commentary, fact and fiction, about the British royal family, including the first two seasons of The Tudors (back-to-back), the entire BBC mini-series Elizabeth R, and one and a half viewings of The Queen.  Yes, one and a half viewings.  I fell asleep a couple of times.  Oh give me a break!  I started it over!  Twice.  Yeah, yeah...but I'd already seen it, so no big.  Anyway, now that I'm an expert, go ahead, ask me anything.  Well, ask me anything about the very specific and highly dramatized stuff I am all bleary-eyed from watching, I mean.  Oh!  But I haven't started Tudors Season 3 yet, so don't ask me anything between Queen Anne and King Edward, which is where Elizabeth R starts, cuz seriously, I have no clue...

--Delightful times at the office start by staying OUT of the office, I always say...and there has been some of that this week.  Whew!!  But seriously, folks, that job, or more specifically, that new boss (who is an asshole, no nice way to say it) has CHANGED my brain, for real.  Dealing with people like that sucks the joy out of everything.  I'm unhappy, and hating it.  I started the project AND the diet, basically to distract myself from the fact that my livlihood is currently being manipulated by someone that I wouldn't even trust to wash my windshield.  Thank God for Karma is all I can say.  Knowing that he's got all this misery coming right back to him is the only thing that keeps my spirits up.  That and the diet, I mean...

--My jeans are falling off!!  No, they are not being torn off. I couldn't be that lucky...but...POUNDS!  GONE!  Oh my GAWD! Am I going to turn into one of those annoying people who talks about their weight loss and healthy eating and stuff?  Oh hell no.  I fully intend to start smoking, drinking ridiculously strong drinks and eating total crap food again at some point in my life, but if I die before then, I am going to be so pissed.

Mommy, Tell Me A Story...A GHOST Story! Bwa-Ha-Ha-Ha-Ha!

Tell me about the last time you felt like chucking a computer out a window.

 

 

Oh, come on...you know you've wanted to chuck a computer out a window....I can't be the only one.

 

 

Mine was last night when I (EFFING MIRACULOUSLY, I MIGHT ADD) found the disc that you need to do a re-install when you computer completely craps all over itself, (finding it is half the problem, trust me...).  Then I ran the re-install and the sonofabitch STILL doesn't work because apparently some evil entity came in the night and REMOVED the hard drive on my PC!

 

 

That's right....REMOVED.

 

 

Which, I suppose, would make the computer somewhat less heavy to lift and toss out the window.

 

 

**Disclaimer: I have not actually opened the computer to see if it contains a hard-drive, I'm merely trusting what the blue and black screens are telling me what they say that there IS NO F*CKING HARD DRIVE.

 

**Disclaimer of the Disclaimer:  No, the computer did not use the "F-Word".

 

 

I believe that the reason that running the re-install disc did not work is because I actually FOUND the re-install disc.  If I had not been able to locate the disc, then running it would have been the prescribed solution.

 

 

Tonight, for fun, I will be opening the computer.  Oh yes...screwdriver and everything.  We are in search of the missing hard drive.  The one that the computer says just disappeared into thin air.

 

 

If I am not able to locate a hard drive within the case, I'm calling Ghost Hunters.  Sure, they're just gonna tell me that the hard drive "disappeared" because of cat hair and/or crappy wiring, but, whatever....

Shhhh...Not A Word!

So....

 

Starting a new thing.  I'm totally NOT excited about it, and wish it was not a necessary evil, but alas...

 

 

...my body is no longer convinced that a Little Debbie Nutty Bar and a Diet Pepsi pass for a "meal".

 

 

You see, back when I was a smoker, this was not a big deal.  Coffee and a cigarette for breakfast, Nutty Bars and other goodies all day long.  Beer, Soda, etc., and a cigarette between each item.  Never got above a Buck-Fifty, and I never exercised.  (I mean, I'm an active person, but I wouldn't go out of my way to "exercise".)

 

 

Funny what happens when you stop pumping amphetamines into your system.

 

(Insert image of a puffer-fish here)

 

 

So, with some great help, I've entered the world of studying calories and carbs and protein and fat and blah, blah, blah.

 

 

The good news is that 5 pounds just FELL off of me.  Like, literally, in three days, gone.  Whammo!

 

The bad news is that that dramatic drop was most certainly a fluke and that I will be reaching my goal in increments of 1 instead of increments of 5.

 

 

The other good news is that I'm actually eating a lot of food and I'm not at all hungry, even though this is a pretty extreme calorie reduction, so while I'm not cursing the lack of food, I am cursing the fact that I have to think about it...because not only do I have the patience of a gnat, I'm also stubborn and don't like to be told what to do. 

 

My "You're Not The Boss Of Me" wants a beer, is all I'm saying.

 

Actually my "You're Not The Boss Of Me" figured the occasional beer into the calorie count--call it a "snack", if you will...

 

 

I am approaching this "losing weight" thing with the same diligence that I apply to everything else I do.  I'm nothing if not disgustingly thorough.  Don't worry, I'm not going to any dangerous extremes--I still refuse to "exercise", for example.  (I would take a walk for fun, or for fresh air, but DAMN-IT!  Do NOT try to tie it into losing weight or I will FREAK OUT.) 

 

If I do this properly, I may still be able to convince my psyche that I'm just as invincible now as I was at this time last year, so we have to be very, very careful how we speak of The Food Thing, if we speak of it at all...I've been all "We've ALWAYS liked carrots!" for a week now, and so far, she has no idea what's happening...

Trying To Keep The Mood Right

How do you type a raspberry, exactly?  That's the polite gesture I've been giving to writing.  Not permanently, it's just...other, stupider things, clog my mind.  I haven't been in much of a mood.  Or rather, I've been in a "mood"....


So in the interest of SOMEBODY being funny around here...check for JC capitalizing on a moment at around  2:30, then topping it off by accidentally wowing people with actual talent.

There's Always Another Side

I am listening to a Fresh Face in the department, a transfer from another realm, who is telling us about how our department is perceived by some other people in the company.

 

Yow...

 

 

I mean, we're a BIG company, but still...

 

 

For any of you who, like me, spend your days, your hours, your minutes, really working hard to make your program or project or LedZep cover band, whatever, the most bad-ass program, project or LedZep cover band EVER in the history of programs, projects or LedZep cover bands, remember...

 

 

Somebody has never heard of you.  Probably lots of somebodies.

 

 

Somebody has heard of you but really has no idea what you're all about.  Probably lots of somebodies.

 

 

Somebody has heard of you and kind of has an idea of what you do, but they only really know enough so that if someone asks them anything about you, they'll probably be mis-directed with a wrong answer.

 

 

 

It's nice to get that perspective.  It's a good thing to hear from somebody from outside of the usual somebodies.  It's good to have to justify yourself, sometimes--instead of shaking your head, saying how you can't believe people think such things or don't know how bad-ass your program, project, or LedZep cover band is, to be presented with yet another opportunity to prove how awesome you are.  Wakey-Wakey...

Everybody's Mutha

My daughter's friends call me "Mom" and it's always interesting in a Rainbow Coalition sort of way to be out doing whatever when the Black BFF and the Asian boyfriend all converge upon me at the same time and call me "Mom", especially when they are both studying a new language and call me "Mom" in something other than English, like "Mutter" or "Moder", or "Madre".

Ah, family...

It's fun to confuse passers-by.

Sweet as it is to generate that much good will in a teenager, I really need to start hanging out with people my own age--I am DEFINITELY not the type of parent who tries to install themselves into the lives of the cool crowd, although it did warm my heart today, to hear two 16 year old boys very excitedly quoting lines from Wayne's World and Animal House.  My daughter had not seen either movie, and since they are classics and I actually know something about them, I didn't feel like a jerk entering that conversation to agree that she should make the time.

Although...maybe it would be better to just tell her that I've never watched either of those movies end-to-end, either.

Never mind the fact that I recognized a fair portion of the bands that they were going to see at Warped Tour, where I was driving them.  Never mind that.  I'm forty-four f*cking years old, and there is virtually nothing cool about peeling off band names and song titles when you're 44, unless someone is paying you to do that.

Anyway...

It becomes a matter of trying to find people to whom you are still relevant--not for the purposes of talking about old movies or music, but, to have a mature appreciation of new ones.  Like, "Wow, that guy is a really talented musician," not, "Wow, that singer has cute hair."

Sure, there will be those cross-over moments.  I refuse to give up liking Green Day just because my kid likes Green Day.  F*ck that.  I liked them first.  I'm never going to stop liking pizza, either.  I liked that first, too.  And is it really my job to educate the children on all that ways Mike Myers was funny before Shrek?  I don't think it is.

Maybe I'm everybody's Mom because I help all the teenagers I know indulge in all of the loud music/crap food I can force-feed them.  

On second thought--that's more of a grandmother thing--spoil them, then send them home.  Forget I ever said that.

In a couple of years, there will be no teenagers living here, and probably none visiting.  I'll be unable to use them as an excuse for liking music made by people younger than me, or the occasional so-called "edgy" movie or television show.  Hopefully, by then, I will have found someone else with the same problem, and we can compare notes.