Curiosity Killed the Cat

This morning I decided to log on to Facebook and see what'd been going on in the stalker-feed. Not much, people adding things to their profile, leaving groups, making friends, what have you. Then I notice it. Up in the corner. "You have been poked by Ex-Boyfriend." This caused some head-tilting confusion (apparently I'm all about the hyphens today) since the last communication session with him involved him voicing (well, typing actually) his concern about having relationships with two different girls. My response was sort of a kiss-off, and I didn't hear from him for months. Then this. Not even a note or a brief email to say Hello. Just a poke. It's been bothering me all day. I should warrant more than a poke. Especially considering the mental turmoil that he always manages to stir up whenever I have some form of communication with him. We parted ways on -- not bad terms, but obviously not good ones. There was talk of remaining friends. I'm always skeptical of that, because it rarely works, and never in my experience. I did though, because I still retained the misguided hope that he and I could somehow, someday, have a relationship again.
I haven't been considering that in quite some time now. With Ex-Boyfriend living in another country, I was able to gain some perspective and see what a dysfunctional relationship that was for both of us. Several of the conversations that we had as "friends" enabled me to move on and focus on myself. I am a different person now than I was when he and I were together. I feel more myself than I have in years. Stronger. More confident.
All of these things are a little threatened when he pops back into my life. He talks to me and treats me the same as when we were in a relationship, and that chafes me now. I want to assert myself to him, but I am afraid of his reaction. Will he disdain me even more? Will I be seen as one of the fools he was so quick to identify as useless? Another question is why his opinion matters to me as much as it seems to. If I would rather not communicate with him at all, why do I care what his opinion of me is?
I definitely wish that I could go through the rest of my life without interference from him. But at the same time, I can't seem to let it go when he does something like this. One click of the mouse and he's got me on the defensive. I guess that I could just say that it's the drive to know "Why? Why? Why?", but that doesn't seem satisfactory. It feels like there is some deeper reason than simple curiosity at work here. I apparently welcome the obsessive state that communication with him puts me in. Am I a glutton for punishment? Or am I striving to best him at some undefined and ultimately useless contest of wills?

I just don't have the answers.

Call it What You Want to Call it

I feel awful today. Just awful. Asshat decided that Sunday night was a "I'm getting drunk for no reason" night. And boy did he. Sitting on the couch drinking beer after beer and watching the History Channel on a Sunday night. How does that not scream Alcoholic? After he and Other Guy philosophized until midnight, I'd had enough. I went out to the living room and turned off the hall light and made my wishes for Quiet Time known. "Oh, yeah, sure, we'll keep it down."
MY ASS!
An hour later, they finally went to bed. Well, Other Guy went to bed. Asshat had to go through his twenty minute long bedtime readiness regimen. So I'm working off of a whopping five hours of sleep today. Not that this type of day was going to be good anyway, but I really could have used the extra sleep to deal with those things us ladies have to deal with on occasion. That said, OW OW OW OW OWWWWWIIEEEEEE
It's only 11:30 and I am already taking my second muscle relaxer of the day. This is ridiculous. No one should have to deal with this kind of pain. At least I don't have a thousand projects today. Oh no, I only have a huge training session to do later, which is about the last thing I want to be doing. Oh, you want me to present vital information about company policy changes? Because I had planned on whimpering in the corner curled around my heater praying for relief from the stabbing searing pain afflicting me. But forget that. Training it is!
I keep waiting for one of my coworkers to catch me popping pills and quiz me on it. I imagine it going something like this:
Coworker: Oh what's that?
Me: It's a pill (silent: Captain Obvious)
CW: A pill for what? Are you sick?
Me: No, I'm not sick.
CW: What's it for?
Me: It's a muscle relaxer.
CW: Oh, did you pull a muscle?
Me: No.
CW: (confused) Why are you taking a muscle relaxer then?
Me: Because I am in excruciating pain from cramps. Ok? Are you happy? Now GO AWAY!
CW: (stunned silence) scurries off

I feel like a bitch and it wasn't even real.

Suspicious Minds

A curious thing happened the other day. While I was packing up my desk and siting on the floor, Singe was sleeping on the bed. Asshat came home and stopped to talk to Other Guy for a bit about his car that he's fixing up or whatever. Then Asshat came walking down the hall towards his room while still talking. As he got closer, Singe jumped up and rocketed past me under the bed. She almost ran into me in her rush to get under the bed.

It could just be loud noises or voices startling her, but Other Guy has come into my room to talk to me and Singe will just lie on the bed and not bat an eye. But apparently the sound of Asshat's voice is enough to send her running for cover. Maybe it's that weird chipmunk voice of his.

It just happened again. It's definitely only when she hears Asshat coming. I can't believe this. What has been going on when I'm not here? Why is she scared of him? I'm worried about leaving her here for any amount of time now. I don't know what to do aside from come home right away every day and not go anywhere. At least I'm moving in a week. I know confronting him won't do any good. What, he's going to say, "Oh, yeah she probably is scared of me because I [insert horrible thing] when you aren't here."

I just need to get out of here.

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Head in the Clouds

I feel dizzy today. It rained hard yesterday and now the wind it is a blowin' and my hay fever is having a grand time ravaging my sinuses. My head is so stuffy that I sort of feel drunk. Which is a great mental state to be in while I'm trying to be productive at work and lots of people are asking me questions about their projects. I catch myself just staring at them and not listening. Fortunately everyone here talks a lot, so I haven't missed anything critical.
We had a nice department lunch today at a golf course restaurant. I had some sort of seafood pasta dish. It's hard to explain. There were scallops and tequila lime sauce. It was fantastic.
I'm really boring today. I had a great idea for a post today that I was writing in my head last night before I fell asleep, but it's completely gone now. So you get this crap. Lucky you.

What Do Y'all Think?

The Dresser Dilemma has been solved. Mama wants to take it to Arizona, so now I just have to hang onto it until she can pick it up. Now if the damn check that Dad sent me would just get here, I can actually give my part of the deposit for the apartment(who ever heard of it taking a week to mail something from Texas to California?), and I'll be all set to move in a week and a half! Then I'll be rid of the Dubious Duo I live with now. Although I will miss the little incidents like last night's Dish-Washing-Yelling-Cabinet-Door-Slamming Midnight Marathon. I do live for those moments.
Other than being so tired I feel like I'm about to fall over, today has been a good day. We had a big Company Luncheon today, which was a pleasant surprise, since I had forgotten that it was today. The theme was Chinese New Year, the upside of which was an abundance of mediocre Chinese food and the downside of which is that I'm hungry. But I have some delicious pizza waiting at home for me, so I have that to look forward to.
On a completely different note, I am thinking of doing a Full Disclosure once I'm done dealing with Asshat (i.e. once I get my deposit back), mainly because I'm tired of making up code names for everyone. Thoughts? Opinions?

I'm Not an Addict, I Can Quit Whenever I Want

I’ve had two cups of coffee already today, and I still cannot keep my eyes from closing every few minutes. I either need to cut back on my caffeine intake or I need to start mainlining adrenaline. Since it would take a ton of actual effort to get my paws on some adrenaline and I have a pathological fear of needles, it looks like I’m stuck with cutting back on the sweet, sweet nectar my coffeepot produces. The problem with this is twofold. Part one is that I am basically not good for anything until I’ve had a cup of coffee in the mornings, and even with that starter cup, I’m still a zombie until about 8:30 or 9:00. Part two is that I once tried to kick my caffeine habit before and I ended up suffering from a hardcore withdrawal headache that finally abated once I caved in and had a soda. At what point do I start calling this an addiction? I crave it, I can’t function normally without it, I’ve tried to quit unsuccessfully, and I suffer withdrawals if I experience a prolonged length of time without it. Now excuse me while I go finish off the rest of my Dr. Pepper from lunch.

Decisions, Decisions

I've been thinking about downsizing my bed. I have a queen right now, and I love it, but it's quite difficult for me to get the fitted sheet on by myself, or if it's time to flip the mattress, I have to get someone to help me. A full would just be more manageable all the way around. It won't be quite as comfortable when Boyfriend stays over, but for a few nights out of the month, it's not that big of a deal. Another plus will be having room to actually move around in my bedroom. I'm also not going to have that big ol' chair taking up space in my bedroom anymore, and I will have enough closet space that I can sell my dresser/vanity thing. I'm not sure that I want to sell it because it's so pretty, but I won't actually need it and it's an awkward size. I can't use it to put things on top of because there's a mirror on a pivot right in the middle of it and the sides aren't large enough to hold anything that I will need to be out of the way. A quandary.

So Many Reasons

I got the final "Yes, everything is fine, you can have this apartment" call this weekend. It all seems a little dream-like. I wanted to start packing immediately, but I still have two weeks before I move. I don't have a lot of space to put all of my crap right now, so this is likely going to be a last minute rush job. i am not looking forward to that. What I am looking forward to is never having to deal with Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb ever again! No more dishes left on the edge of the sink for two months and counting, no more Jaeger spilled on the floor and not cleaned up for a week, no more carpets blackened by dirty shoes, no more single-pane windows that double as cold-air conductors, no more dryer that doesn't actually dry, the list goes on and on...
When New Roommate came over to see my things and meet Singe, Asshat was completely true to form. There was a note left right inside the entry that read: This house smells like cat shit. Figure it out please. I like the "please", like that make it a polite reminder. Mind you, I had cleaned the litter box the day before. New Roommate looked a little shocked. At that moment, Asshat and Asshat in Training (formerly Pretty Decent Guy) came around the corner from the hallway, clearly on their way out. Just in case I hadn't seen the lovely note that I was holding in my hand, they kindly reiterated, "This house smells like cat shit. In case you didn't know." before leaving. New Roommate turned to me with a look of bemusement and said, "I'm guessing you don't get along. I can see why you want to move out." Then, after looking around for a second, she observed, "I don't smell any cat shit." Bless her.

I Need External Validation

Where are the comments, people? Whither the love? Whither!?

Sitting, Waiting, You Know the Rest...

It is such an amazing day today! February and eighty degrees outside! I love Santa Barbara on days like this. All I want to do is go to the beach. But alas, I must make zee money.

I met New Roommate yesterday and hung out with her more last night. That's right, I said NEW Roommate! Because...

OH MY GOD I'M MOVING IN TWO WEEKS! (deep breaths to prevent hyperventilation)

Calling all of my friends with trucks and strong arms! (cough cough Turbo cough cough) I need your help on March 2nd, 3rd, and probably 4th. I'm so excited! I just can't hide it (Please don't hit me I have to do it there are people in my head singing it and they made me do it)!

Happy Dance

I have been running around my work like a recently-beheaded chicken (Which, if some of you haven't see, they really do run around for a while and crash into things.). Hence no posts until today.

On with the good news! I have an apartment! Like, for serious! So, that is amazing. I feel like I had a huge weight taken off my chest. For a while last week I felt like I was on the verge of tears pretty constantly. Stress is a motherfucker, y'all.

I met New Roommate today as well. She seems very nice, and best of all sane. And clean. She was excited about the kitchen, saying, and I quote, "Oh good! I can cook!" This bodes extremely well for me. She likes to cook, I like to eat, it's perfect.

Other than that exciting bit of news, I don't have much to offer. Best Friend and I went to Trivia again on Wednesday, and it was fun, but not as much fun as last week. Mainly because we didn't win anything, so no free drinks. Boo...
And yeah..............I got nothin'.

Boyfriend and I are doing our Valentine's stuff on Friday, because he had midterms this week. Honestly, what kind of bitter, shriveled soul gives midterms the day after Valentine's Day? Not as bad as having one the day after Halloween though. That happened to me my last year of college. Lame. I mean, really? Who does that?

So yeah. This post is all over the place. Ooh and my Outlook just reminded me that there is cake for some one's birthday! Sweet...

Win Some, Lose Some

I had a weekend of extremes, from great nights to horrible nights. First, the great.

I finally got to go out drinking with Friend I Never See but Whom I Dearly Love on Friday night at The Mercury Lounge (and no, I will never, ever call it "The Merc"). Boyfriend and I actually ended up doing a rescue op and saving her from a hot-but-really-dumb guy who had fallen in obsession with her. We drank, played pool increasingly badly, drank more, played even worse pool, chatted with random people, and ended out the night with a drunken trip to 7-11 to get chili-cheese nachos, a spicy burrito and various other snacks that I can't recall. We took our loot back to F. I. N. S. B. W. I. D. L.'s place and watched something on tv and later snuck out, trying to avoid the crowd of people she was hiding from. And then slept until one the next day. I had dreams involving sushi and games shows. I did eat sushi that day, but games shows? Beats me.

The next day was largely spent doing nothing. At some point I ate food. Office Space was on tv, so I watched it again. Damn, that is one funny movie.
Boyfriend had to work on Sunday morning (boo!), so he went home Saturday night.
Which brings me to the horrible. I had nightmares all night Saturday. I mean, legitimate nightmares with a monster and running and hiding from said monster. I couldn't get out of the dream either. I must have woken up four times, each time for about half an hour. I tried to calm down and get myself to think of something else, but as soon as I fell back asleep, BAM, right back into the nightmare. Best Friend was in my nightmare too. At one point, we were hunting the monster in a cow pasture and one of the cows became possessed by the monster (which I never actually saw, and that makes it so much worse) and the cow tried to kill Best Friend, but she wrestled the Crazy Monster Cow and killed it dead by stabbing it in the head with a piece of wire from the fence, all while I hid uselessly in the bushes.
Later in the dream, perhaps after a bout of wakefulness, Best Friend and I were in this building that was sort of like a mall, but there were rows and rows of bunk beds along the walls and I guess people were hiding out there, trying to get away from the Monster. We ended up at the back of the building, which was a long hallway with big ol' scary looking dark areas at either end. The only bunks available were at one of the ends. We tried to claim two of them, but something happened (I forget what) and we lost one of them. I kept seeing things moving in the dark area that we were right next to and I started freaking out and trying to make Best Friend leave with me.
That's all I remember. I know there was more to it; beginning, middle, and end, but in the way of dreams, it is gone.

Apparently, in a horror movie type situation, I would be that person who insist on leaving the Safe Place and trying to go to their house or some such nonsense. It appears that I would also be The Girl Who Hides in the Bushes Being Useless While Someone Else Fights the Monster/Killer.
Both of those roles disturb me, since both Dumb Person Who Leaves the Safe Place and Useless Person usually die.

Shaky Ground

I still haven't heard from Potential Roommate about the new Perfect Apartment. I sent her another email today that basically said "Hey, what the hell?" and let her know that if I don't get a response by Monday, I'm breaking up with her. I'm sad because I really did and do like her and I'm a little worried that Things are not ok up there with her mom and all. But bidness is bidness and I gots to live somewheres. And I'll be damned if I let The Perfect Apartment get away again. Landlord Man called me today and I gave him the heads up about P.R. being MIA, and he's cool with me finding someone else. So now I just have to play the waiting game, and I hate that. I can't stand when important things in my life are completely out of my control. It makes me cranky.

Greek Comedy

Anna Nicole Smith is dead, and apparently is wasn't an overdose. Either that or Wolfe Blitzer is afraid of that word.

The Chicago Tribune has posted a time line of her life. What a sad, sad woman indeed.

1967: Anna Nicole Smith enters the world as Vickie Lynn Hogan in Houston, Texas.

I wonder is she's related to The Hogans...

1985: While working at Jim's Krispy Fried Chicken Smith, 17, meets fry cook Billy Wayne Smith, 16, and the two are married. One year later she gives birth to her son Daniel Wayne Smith.

Married at 16, had a baby at 17. With a guy she met at Jim's Krispy Fried Chicken. Just let that sink in a little.

1987: Smith separates from Billy Wayne and takes her son Daniel to Houston where she finds work at Red Lobster, then later as an exotic dancer.

So now she's 18. Everybody up to speed? 18, divorced with a one-year old, and a waitress/stripper.

1991: Smith meets oil billionaire J. Howard Marshall at a strip club where she's performing. She takes modeling and voice lessons, and auditions for Playboy magazine.

Can you honestly say you would have done differently? I mean, if you somehow became an 18 year-old-single-mom-stripper.

1993: Smith is named Playmate of the Year and officially becomes divorced from Billy Wayne.

Ok, so apparently it took a little time to actually divorce her baby-daddy. I wonder why it took SIX YEARS...


1994: Smith marries J. Howard Marshall in Houston. He is 89; she is 26.

Things are becoming a little more clear now. What she needed was a little motivation.

1995: Marshall dies 14 months after their marriage. Within weeks Smith squares off against Marshall's son E. Pierce Marshall in court, claiming Marshall promised her half of his $1.6 billion estate.

Or a lot of motivation. $1.6 billion worth of motivation.

There's a whole lot now that I'm going to skip because we've all heard it before and no one cares. Ok? Ok.

September 2006: Smith's daughter Daniellyn is born at Doctors Hospital in the Bahamas. Three days later Smith's son Daniel is found dead in his mother's hospital room. Eighteen days after Daniel's death Smith exchanges rings with Stern at an informal "commitment ceremony" on a ship in the Bahamas.

Ah the glory of irrational grief-stricken hormone-clouded decisions.

Feb. 8, 2007: Smith collapses at the Florida Hard Rock Casino and dies shortly after.

A sad end to a sad life. I just wonder how long it will take before
a) people start using the word "overdose"
b) TrimSpa issues a massive recall
c) Angelina or Madonna adopts Daniellyn.
d) Jennifer Aniston jumps back in the game by preempting Angelina and Madonna.

Screw Lost, I want to answer questions!

Last night I went to Trivia Night at Old King's Road with Pam and some other people. That's right, beer and trivia. My kind of night. Not to mention that WE WON ROUND THREE! Which means that we got a round of free drinks. Each team gets to name themselves. We decided on "Space Prostitues", in honor of The Crazy Diaper-Wearing Stalker. That actually turned out to be sort of the theme of the team names for the night. My personal favorite, besides ours of course, was "Putting the Poon Back in the Astronaut's Tang", which is about as classy as it gets. So I now have something to do on Wednesday nights. Hooray!

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