add this one to my list of abilities

I came home Monday night from work to find a horrific sight. There was garbage everywhere. In the kitchen. Under the dining room table. In the hallway. In the living room. Behind the sofa. By the fireplace. Pretty much everywhere downstairs, with the exception of the laundry room, bathroom, and roommate's cave. Where was the dog? The only one who could've knocked the lid off the trash can and tipped it over? Nowhere to be found.

I was trying to keep my shit together while looking for the dog. She never does this, with the exception of that one time this winter, which I blame on stir-craziness from the never ending snow and iciness. I finally found her upstairs in the den hiding behind the futon. Or rather, wedged halfway beneath the futon. She has never hidden from me before. She knew she had done a very, very bad thing. She always knows when she has been naughty, and even if the man nor I know of said naughty behavior, we can read it from her body language and she gives herself away every time. That bitch (literally) has no poker face.

Note: Neither the man nor I have ever, ever lifted a finger to the dog and she has no fear of any sort of physical abuse. She does, however, hate the disappointment that we exude and cowers at the thought. She cowers as we open the door to find her on the sofa (where she shouldn't be). She cowers as we walk up the stairs and find her eating cat food, etc. She's like I was in school, so afraid of the disappointment from my parents for untoward behavior that I rarely did anything considered "wrong."

So, I coaxed the dog out from behind the futon, led her downstairs and was about to take her outside to keep with the daily routine of letting her relieve herself. Since there was trash all over the house, she could obviously see what she had done. Apparently she was quite frightened of the tone in my voice (aka borderline hysteria and pissed-offedness) as I instructed her to "make potty outside now." This is an instruction that I give her multiple times per day.

Today was different. Today, when she was so eager to redeem herself. Today, on garbage orgy day, she cowered as we walked to the door and upon being surrounded by the trash or her binge, she pissed on the floor. Just a little, but still, she PISSED ON THE FLOOR. In her 7+ years of existence, she has never pissed on the floor. She must have missed the part where I said "potty OUTSIDE." The man seems to think that since the dog has never heard me so pissed off before, the utterance of that simple command caused her to lose it.

I let her outside, where she did the rest of her pissing, and in the meantime cleaned up the garbage and the piss (did I mention that she pissed on the floor?). As I picked up trash, I looked through everything to make sure there was no evidence of ingestibles that would hurt her, and upon finding none of those items, tried to compose myself again before letting the dog back in the house. Let's just say that cleaning up piss doesn't create a sense of zen for me.

Side note: The slovenly roommate eats fast food nearly everyday and leaves remnants of those meals in the garbage can (not in the compost, where they should be). These nasty tidbits must have sent the dog into a frenzy, and drunk with lust for scraps, she destroyed the sanctity of good manners, general hygiene, and overall not eating garbage in the house I just fucking cleaned the day before.

So, to sum up the event, the dog went on a day-long garbage bender and then was so embarrassed and/or guilty that she proceeded to piss on the floor under my disappointed gaze. And yet I am the one who ended up feeling bad. My tone alone is enough to cause incontinence. I wonder if that should be listed on my resume as a skill or an accomplishment.

is there an eco in here?

I've been working diligently to both beautify my surroundings at home and get rid of some junk lying around in an eco-friendly way. Also, I'm sure I mentioned that I'm into sustainability lately, which is great because I am poor. It is easier to admit that I "up-cycle" because it is good for keeping things out of the landfill, but that is just a bonus. The main thing is that I'm too poor and/or cheap to go out and spend exorbitant amounts of money on sub-par items. Old things really do seem to be of a better quality, I must admit. And I'm not just saying that because I get my jollies from a man 11 years my senior.

But I digress, I've long been a fan of fixing old things rather than spending money and resources on new things. So, long story shorter, I decided to spruce up a horribly disgusting and nasty dining chair I found in one our outbuildings (left by previous tenants whose butts shat out razor blades that seem to have cut open every chair they left). The result of my stress-induced need for calm has been two new chairs for my living quarters.

Below is the dining chair that had been missing a seat and fabric and had an odd smell and all-around was ass-nasty. I completely tore it apart and made a new seat and back, salvaging only the frame. Say hello to my new desk chair:

The photo is a bit darker than I wanted and there is a piece of ? on the floor that the cat batted into the shot. Oh well. At least I was able to get one picture without Cat Named Jack smelling the chair. Victory!

The other chair is just a side chair and is now in my upstairs den. It too had seen better days and was a lovely shade of mold. I removed all the nasty, painted the frame, and out popped a very comfortable chair. I've decided to go with a black and white fabric to keep things looking crisp...also because I love throwing around color so much that I thought I'd better keep it simple to avoid a constantly acid-trippy feeling when I walk into the room. That, and it isn't comforting to feel like you walked into a bag of skittles.


As you can see, Cat Named Jack makes an appearance in this photo, but at least he isn't smelling the chair. You'll see that he is wearing his Jackson Pinkerton III tie for the occasion.

out and about

I made note of a number of things that had made a particular weekend both pleasant and not-so-fun. Here are some photos to further elaborate on the wonders of the world outside my house.

I noted that the man bought me flowers. Since their relocation, they have been thriving, as you can see below:

These are just a couple of the flowers I planted. If you look closely at the photo, you can see a dandelion seed has found its way into the shot. The dandelions are the man's own personal hell. He is now talking about buying special lawnmower attachments to destroy said dandelions. Here is one of the evil doers:

I'm not a fan of just throwing money into the yard like that. As long as it is green, it's a yard. We don't have neighbors on our "dead end" road. From the road, it looks like lush grass and you don't even notice the dandelions. But the man notices them. And he has vowed to kill them. I think I'm going to have to bet against him on this one. Also, I see that I may be hypocritical, spending money on flowers, but flowers are different and and should be considered investments into my happiness. Just don't give me a bouquet, I'd prefer them alive and potted.

The last thing I mentioned in my list was that a hot air balloon made its way over our yard and nearly touched down in the field behind the house. Here's my proof:

After about a minute of trying really hard to hold her shit together, the dog was convinced that the world was coming to an end and sat shivering in the garage until I made a mad dash with her into the house, away from whatever the fuck she thought was falling from the sky to destroy us all. At least I got some good photos to commemorate the event.

visitation

I once again have taken Friday and Monday off from work. Yay! However, 8 hours of the weekend will be spent in the car, due to the fact that I'm going to visit my parents and other members of my extended family. It will be the first time I've seen anyone since Christmas. When was Christmas? Over 5 months ago? Oh yeah, I'm an awful daughter. I only live 4 hours away and I haven't been home in over 5 months. But I do talk to my folks multiple times per week, shouldn't that make it all better? The answer is no. Another 'but.' But...I am happy to report that I will not only be visiting them this weekend, but also once in June and once in August. Then, I will likely see them again for the baptism of my new nephew. See, I just stockpile my visits and then rapid-fire them out in a three-month period. Maybe I'm not so bad...or maybe I'm overcompensating...hard to say which.

Anyway, you know you've been gone way too long when your parents e-mail you multiple times per day to confirm that you are, in fact, still coming to visit. Then they tell their friends and neighbors about the magical homecoming of their wonderful only daughter whom they haven't seen in ages. And then they bribe you with promises of "treats" and fun-filled days of various hometown activities so you'll want to return again and again...and maybe will procreate so they can get their paws on some more grandbabies. Because, those AARP people, they feed off babies. I will not give in to their demands, however, and plan to exit this life with my lady bits in tact.

Moving on. I'm quite excited about visiting. It has been too long since I've been "home." (Thank you gas prices, for keeping me from the people who spawned me and for forcing me to put more charges on the credit card I thought I wouldn't need to use anymore.) I will be bringing more of my stuff and things and objects home with me. And hopefully a couple things that I can pilfer from my parents and then rejuvenate to make me feel like I am not poor and that I have "new" things.

When I return I will be posting photos and some rapid-fire, stockpiled posts detailing my projects and the various goings-on in my not-so-exciting life. Why? Because that's how I roll. I save up posts and visits and whatnot and when you least expect it...WHAM, BANG, POW...you are overcome with the glory that is the life of Trish. And you, in return, will pretend that I am fabulously amazing and delightful. Why? Because I already think you are fabulous and amazing and delightful. What a fun interchange it will be.

the end of the fucking world

Why doesn't anyone seem to care that Clay Aiken is procreating? I have this nightmare where Clay Aiken's baby and a baby produced by Josh Groban get together, mate, and create a musical horror that brings the world to its knees...and not in a good way. This nightmare is the result of this.

things that made this weekend good and/or bad

1. The man and I had plans for Friday as we would both be home early from work...I was not done early...he was not done early = bad
   
2. At approximately 6:00 pm Friday, I started having severe stomach pains for no apparent reason. No nausea, no indigestion, just pain. I couldn't quite stand up straight without the pain causing beads of sweat to build up on my forehead. The pain is still there, but is now bearable. Overall, unidentified stomach pain = bad
   
3. I finally watched Chicken Little, which happened to be on Disney channel as I was curled into a ball on the sofa (due to the abdominal discomfort). It was a cute movie = good
   
4. One of the man's old friends from high school decided to call drunk at 3:00 am Saturday morning while the man was out fishing and I was home alone, sick, and barely able to sleep. Plus, he couldn't understand who I was and why I was answering the phone at the man's house. What I should have said: "Dumbass, I fucking live here and get off the damned phone before I reach through it and pull your scrotum up over your face and tuck it into your eyelids." I wanted to say that, but I didn't = bad
   
5. Saturday morning we drove to the nursery and picked up flowers for my flowerbeds, all of which were purchased by the man so I couldn't say that he never buys me flowers = good
   
6. I felt somewhat well enough to go with the man while he fished on Saturday afternoon. I must say that I was quite amazed at his skill. Also, being outside made me feel less like dying = good
   
7. Some weird people from Illinois stopped where we were fishing and offered to buy the fish the man had caught. We gave them the fish for free. The man insists he is like Jesus, giving people fish and feeding the masses. I explain that Jesus probably didn't try to feel up his girlfriend for good luck before fishing, and also that two people are not exactly "the masses." Still, it was nice to do a good deed = good
   
8. We built a toad house in one of my flowerbeds and actually found a toad to live in it...and he stayed in the house through Sunday afternoon (and might still be there) = good
   
9. The roommate managed to stay on the couch for two straight days, making it unbearable to be in the downstairs area of the house, as he kept insisting that my stomach must hurt because I'm pregnant. There is no way that I am pregnant, but he is an asshole. I wanted to tell him that by judging the size of his expanding man-breasts and gut, he looks more pregnant than I. I didn't share this observation, though I wanted to = bad
   
10. A hot air balloon floated less than 100 feet above the house, which was really cool = good...and bad because the dog was scared out of her mind.

and i wouldn't even wear gloves

It is Friday, finally. I've only been in the office three days this week, but they were long days. Long days filled with incompetency and drama. But, the week is on an upturn because the office is very skeletal today. Only myself and one other staffer, plus a student worker for half the day. It's like I won the lottery (and not the lottery where your friends and neighbors stone you in the middle of the town square, but a lottery where they give you free money!).

I've been getting so much done, it makes me want to work alone every day. Human interaction is overrated. People suck. Every day. Everywhere. And they can't be trusted to perform up to their abilities. And if they can, their abilities are often sub-par. Every day. Maybe not all people, but oftentimes it is the people whom you rely on to get shit done so you can get your own shit done. But I digress, today I am alone without supervision, able to do my work in peace. I love you, Friday, and I wish you would come more often. I'd offer you tea and might throw in a foot rub, even though I think other people's feet are disgusting. That is how much I love you.

repair and maintain

I would like to report that the man and I have officially called a cease fire. I probably haven't mentioned it, but we've been a bit of a cranky-pants couple lately, bickering and hurling insults and irrationality like monkeys throw shit at each other. Obscenities have been used: not quite sparingly. And not in a loving way. We've both been stressed out with work and whatnot, and have been sharing that pent up nastiness with one another. And I repeat, not in the fun, naked kind of way.

This weekend was an opportunity to spend some time together and to let the work worries melt away (along with various parts of my skin, as I seemed to get burnt by both the sun and the oven all in the same three-day span). The weekend allowed us the chance to realize that we weren't bitchy at each other, at least not to the extent that we thought.

While I would like to blame this sporadic arguing on the man suffering from a severe case of MANstration, I do realize that I am also partially to blame. In hindsight, my tact has been non-existent and I've been bringing work home with me. And, did I mention, work has been hell lately. So...I've been bringing hell home with me. Dinner conversation usually went something like this:

The man: Please pass the corn.

Me: Some people are too incompetent to pass the corn. Some people can't pass you the goddammed corn until two weeks after deadline. Some people don't show up to work until halfway through the day and I'd like to jam cobs of corn into their eye sockets.

[Awkward silence]

Anyway, things are back to normal. My extended weekend gave me some distance from the stress associated with my job and the summer-like weather gave me a much needed boost from my gloomy perspective on things. I think we've even realized that we like one another enough to want to spend time together. Imagine that.

hiatus

I am taking a couple days of vacation to make the Memorial Day weekend EXTRA long. I am not sure if I will feel like posting during that time, so that's that. It is supposed to be gorgeous outside and I've got a ton of plans, most of which include avoiding either working on my thesis, lounging, or spending time outdoors...and not eating oatmeal. I'm giving that shit up for a while. I had a very interesting appointment with my doctor(s), but the results from that are yet to arrive, so I will have to keep you posted as the oddities explain themselves.

In terms of my long weekend (how long is it? 5 whole days of NOT BEING AT WORK), I actually have to take the time off from work because I can only carry over two weeks of vacation time and the end of the fiscal year is fast approaching...meaning I have to use 6 days before June 30. In other words, two more long weekends are in my immediate future. Yay!

Have a safe and happy holiday weekend.

and the winner is...

My nephew now has a name: Maxwell James.

I'm assuming he will go by Max and not M.J., as to avoid appearing too feminine or like a pothead.

naming of the shrew

The following is a transcript of a snippet from yesterday's conversation about baby names with my brother.

Me: what would you have named the baby if it had been a girl?

Brother: I can't tell you.

Me: but you told Mom after Brady [first nephew] was born.

Brother: we told Mom because we knew she'd forget. And she did.

Me: but I won't be having any kids so I won't steal it.

Brother: you'd probably use it for a dog, cat, rabbit, or whatever weird animal you people find next.

Me: I would so not use it for a rabbit.

Brother: we would never be able to name our kid that name if you used it for a pet.

Me: fine, I'll just name any new pets after your existing kids' names and then you'll be sorry. Then I'll call Mom and Dad and tell them that Brady was just licking his butthole, but I won't tell them that "Brady" is my pet and not their grandson.

Brother: I'm still not going to tell you.

Me: then you're just a dickface.

*Note: apparently you never outgrow the need to call your siblings stupid names when a conversation doesn't go your way.

anonymous

My brother and his wife had a baby today. He (the baby) doesn't have a name yet, but my brother has told me that the baby must have a name by Friday, when they are going to bring him home. If the baby were to commit a crime, now would be the time to do it, while he is still unnamed. Unfortunately, I don't think his tiny baby self could muster the strength to rob a bank right now, but he would definitely gain an edge in the favorite nephew category if he were to do so and to split his spoils with his wonderful Auntie Trish.

He kind of looks like an old man, all smushed and disheveled, like he has lived a hard life and walked up hill to school both ways.

The picture is of a somewhat grainy quality because it was taken with my brother's cell phone. I see a resemblance to my other nephew and to my brother. He's a baby, and thus not too cute at age 1 hour, but he'll grow into it.

Welcome to the family, unnamed baby!

don't piss down my back and tell me it's raining

It is finally spring. And with the spring, comes the rain. The rain from the sky and the downpour of work. Yes, I'm a bit peeved with my workload and that there is no end in sight. Did I mention it is spring? It is warm, and it is sunny, and it is hard to sit behind a desk and look outside with the knowledge that you will not get to enjoy it for many, many hours...and that when you finally do get to enjoy it you will be so beaten down by work that you will collapse to a writhing mess of insanity. This is me being optimistic. Hello springtime.

i don't normally do this...

As a general rule, I write very little about work. Mainly, because I don't want to get fired, even though no one from work knows of this blog. I have to do this though, because of the people in my division, I only know of a couple people who are not planning their escapes.


The chart below is a breakdown of how we are all feeling about our jobs these days, and the actions that we are taking:

I fall into the "can't afford to leave, but would like to" category. Argh...why must employers need a specific number of years experience? WHY?! Oh well, I will muddle through while complaining to my loved ones who probably already want to wring my neck for bitching about work.

It is not fun to work here anymore. Not that work has to be fun. But it has to not be a soul-sucking force in your life. But that is what it is. A soul-sucking force. For anyone who works here...with the exception of one person who will remain nameless. Everyone sucks and everything sucks. That is all I have to say.

one office over

To my colleague next door:

I can hear you listening to what sounds like porn. It is loud enough to be heard through the paper-thin walls. There appears to be groaning coming from your office. It is not you, I hope. It definitely sounds like it is coming from a computer. If it is not porn, I would be mindful of the YouTube videos you choose to watch on work time because you are making me more than uncomfortable. In the two plus years I since I began working here, I have chosen to believe you are an asexual being and now there are many frightening images in my brain. Because of the porn sounds. Thank you for that. Tonight as I jab a grapefruit spoon up my nasal cavity to try to rid those images from my memory, I will be collecting the tissues and delivering them to you tomorrow. I hope you like cerebral cortex.

Signed,
Trish T.

P.S. Due to the at-home surgical procedure I described above, I will likely be less productive for the duration of my time at work. But at least I won't have to think about what you were just viewing in your office.

i spy with my little eye...

This morning when I came into work there was a car ON FIRE in the parking lot next door. Totally on fire. It exploded. INTO FLAMES! It was about five minutes before the fire department showed up and extinguished the car, so I had a whole five minutes of excitement this morning. I know someone over in that parking lot was upset by the ordeal, but, c'mon...fire is cool and it is only so often that you can see a car ON FIRE.

f is for...

I went to a concert on Friday with a friend from work and her boyfriend. I was skeptical about the bands, neither of whom I had ever heard before. I must admit that I was pleasantly surprised by both (opening band: Paul and Storm, headliner: Jonathan Coulton); they were quite funny and the music was good. Here is a link to my favorite song from the night, First of May by Jonathan Coulton.

Really, you must listen to the song. Be forewarned that it is a bit explicit in terms of lyrics, but is a great song for all the springtime twitterpation that pops up around this time of year.

Happy May and here's to extracurricular outside activities!

mmmm...pie

Yay! It's spring...unfortunately that means it is raining...a lot. Water is falling from the sky, work is raining onto my desk and flooding my personal life. As I'm drowning in work, there has been very little time to spend on the thesis. However, I have gotten a few more pages written this week and have some resources from which I hope more genius-type words will be inspired. Enough with the boring update, here is a visual representation of what I have been spending my time on since Monday (not including the time it has taken to create this chart):


More thesis work will be done this weekend and hopefully more time will also be spent sleeping and avoiding the office. Have a great weekend. Have a drink. Get laid. Do both responsibly (because I've got too much going on to worry about your drunk ass getting coated in random, infested naughty juices).

why the man's parents seem to like me better

1. they don't have a daughter of their own
2. they never had to wipe my ass
3. they've never seen me throw a tantrum
4. they didn't know me during my annoying, adolescent angsty years
5. they don't look at me and see a resemblance to his estranged father
6. they buy me presents and are nice to me so that I won't leave the man (This point was raised by the man. Also, according to his mom, all the ex-girlfriends were bitches.)
7. they've never worried that my naughty parts would impregnate someone else's naughty parts (see above comment about bitchy ex-girlfriends)
8. I remind the man to call them on holidays and birthdays
9. they get better presents when I pick them out
10. I nag him so they don't have to

ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

I cut about eight inches off my hair last night. Actually, my hairstylist Amy did it. I wasn't going after the celebrity bob style, I just wanted something different. I like it. I had my hair very similar to this when I graduated with my bachelor's degree in 2003. I had not purposely scheduled my haircut appointment to conflict with the arrival of the man's parents from Oklahoma, but I did think it was a pleasant surprise that I wouldn't have to eat dinner with them last night. Unfortunately, it worked out that the time conflict didn't matter and we all (the man, his parents, and two sets of grandparents) went out for dinner after my appointment.

Needless to say, the man was surprised that my hair had been chopped off. Not because he hadn't seen it short, it had been MUCH shorter when we first started dating, but rather because he had no idea that I was thinking about doing it. I don't feel like I have to ask him before doing these kinds of things, but it is still nice to feel like I'm doing something naughty by surprising him.

Oh yes, the man's mom and stepdad are in town through Sunday. They stayed with us last night, but will be staying at a hotel for the remainder of the trip. The man is upset by this, but I don't think it is a bad idea because this way I will retain full usage of my den/spare bedroom. Yes, I am selfish. Do I care? Not quite.

We will still be spending a lot of time with them, but will not be tied to the house in the evenings. I'm sure we will be getting some free meals out of it, and it is always fun to hear about the man as a kid (I just found out he was a chubby kid until he went to kindergarten, HA!). The weather was a balmy 73 degrees yesterday and the last thing I wanted to do was sit around the house entertaining company. I really like the man's parents, but I'm not a good hostess.

Also, I haven't reported on my thesis progress. I know I bitched about the weather, which did try to engulf my very being while I was back in MN, the evil soul-sucking state. [I wonder why they don't put that on the license plates? It would be so much catchier than "10,000 Lakes."] It was good to be back, but it was also good to come home. The trip was very productive despite the blizzard.

I am feeling so much better about the whole project that I can't even explain it. And, I can honestly say that my thesis doesn't feel as taxing as it had been and that I kind of WANT TO work on it. Not just to finish it, but because I have a renewed interest. Whew...that is a damned good thing because I had been considering an early death to avoid finishing it.

groceries?

I'm writing my grocery list and so far the only two items are:

• birthday card for Dad
• condoms

Obviously, the birthday card is for my dad and the condoms are for the sex I have out of wedlock with my live-in boyfriend (I'm sure my father doesn't approve of either the sex or the living in sin). Hmm...and I guess I also need some Cheerios, which apply to neither of the aforementioned items. Oh, the juxtaposition!

i spoke too soon

I'm in Minnesota. We're buried in snow. Not just a little snow, upwards of a foot with at least five more inches coming in the next couple days. It seems that hell (MN) has officially frozen over.

Thankfully, Kristen is willing to let me stay an extra day if need be so that I don't have to drive in horrid conditions. Either that, or she wants an extra pair of hands to help shovel out...I'm sure it is a mixture of the two. This way we will at least get to spend some non-work time hanging out. It is so nice to be able to see some of my good friends again. Also, it was so comforting to be spending time at the library again. It almost makes me miss this place. I have not run into any of the people whom I didn't want to see and so far the time I have spent with my friends has been great. I just wish we weren't so far away from each other.

I will post more about my thesis progress at a later date.

on the road again

I leave today at 1:00 to go to Minnesota, where I will work on my thesis and hopefully make substantial progress toward finishing the first draft. Also, and very important to note, I will be able to spend some time with friends whom I have only seen intermittently since I left college. I am so excited about seeing my friends that this trip is bearable. Without that sunny spot in the trip, the whole thing would feel like hell.

I haven't tried to hide the fact that I hated living in St. Cloud, Minnesota. I didn't like the closed-mindedness of the city and, with the exception of my friends and a few coworkers, I was unimpressed by the caliber of people who lived there. That sounds snobby, but it isn't intended to be. I think I just outgrew St. Cloud about a year into my stint there, and going overseas for a semester made all of the issues I had with the location bubble up to the surface. Everything felt suffocating and so small in the grand scheme of things and it bothered me that people were happy with that, happy with staying in a holding pattern and not striving for more. That perspective created one goal for my future: leaving Minnesota for "greener pastures." Part of the reason I am dreading going back is because I haven't done as much as I thought I would have by this time. And the one thing holding me back is the one thing I should've finished before I left. Finishing my thesis will be like shedding a skin that has been suffocating me for the nearly two and a half years since I left Minnesota.

As much as I want to finish my thesis, I am scared to death of failing at it. It is a scary proposition and I've been out of the college mindset for what feels like forever. Damned procrastination, I wish I would have finished this before I ever left, but I couldn't bear to stay any longer than I had to. To be honest, I would rather do so many things other than continue writing this paper. So many things. Anything, actually. That is why it has taken me so damned long. That, and I don't feel like I know what the hell I'm doing half the time.

I understand why people pay others to write their theses for them. If only I weren't broke and didn't have a conscience.

love/hate

Hello springtime. I love you, but I hate you. With the onset of spring comes the onset of the incessant sneezing and brain throbbing associated with my springtime allergies. I took the damned medicine today and it is not working. Perhaps it has something to do with the ten hours I spent outside this weekend inhaling the nasty pollen being spewed from who knows where. Perhaps it has something to do with all the swearing I did back when it was wintertime. Maybe I'm being punished for all of my ill will toward Mother(fucker) Nature.

All I know is, it had better stay springtime if I'm going to have to suffer the allergy part of it. That means NO MORE SNOW. I mean it.

flavor

I've come to the conclusion that French vanilla flavoring means that something will taste like vanilla with a hint of cigarette smoke. At least that is what this flavored creamer I just added to my hot chocolate seems to do.

rainy days and mondays always get me down

It is Monday. It is raining. Talk about a depressing combination. Yesterday, on the other hand, was gorgeous. The sun only peeked out a few times, but there was no wind, making it warm enough for me to spend over 5 hours cleaning up the yard and working in my flowerbeds. Also, I cleaned and organized my stall in the garage.

Today I am paying the price for yesterday's ambitions. I feel as though I have been beaten with a crowbar about the arms and legs. I'm not going to complain, though, because this is a good kind of ache, the kind that lets me know that I've worked out all the cobwebs that have collected throughout the past six months of winter. I hope today's storms melt away the last of the snowbanks.

the return

I'm finally going to get some work done on my thesis in a location where I know I will be able to get work done. I'm going to be going to my college library in Minnesota for a multi-purpose trip. As I mentioned, I will be working on my thesis, but I will also be visiting friends from college and possibly crashing on Kristen's couch while I'm there. This will happen in April, when I will actually be able to get away from work for a few days. I'm super-excited about it.

Yes, super-excited...about going back to Minnesota...a state that I hate. I am excited about my friends, not the people whom I have forgotten about since I moved in 2005. I hope that I don't run into those people. I just hate the standard niceties of "how have you been" that seems bound to end with "keep in touch" and an exchange of numbers. There will be no exchange of numbers. If I haven't bothered to contact you since 2005, I probably had a reason.

But, to be honest, there are a handfull of people whom I have failed to contact for other reasons, reasons that have nothing to do with negativity and everything to do with my slacker behavior and not having had many good things to mention for the first two years I was gone. I will be getting in touch with those people. But not the others, the ass-nasty morons that I was happy to leave behind.

Also, I'd like to get finished with my first draft of my thesis. That will be one huge, flea-ridden monkey off my back.

how do you like your eggs?

I like my eggs standing up on end, like this:

And this:

Yes, that is my desk at work. Do not worry, this is a work-sanctioned egg-uprising. I think it is cool. I've been telling passers by that I am doing this WITH THE POWER OF MY MIND. Mwah ha ha. Umm, yeah, that part is bullshit; I use the power of my mind for much more fruitful things, like revenge. But look over there, it is an egg balancing on its end!

sprung

Happy first day of SPRING! It could not come soon enough...unfortunately, Mother Nature is still being a nasty whore and is sending 5-7 inches of snow our way in the next 24 hours. But, today is slated to be nice and sunny. And, a sure sign of spring is this guy, who has been mating in the front yard with all the ladies with big red breasts:


As you probably know, Easter is this Sunday. My initial reaction to the thought of having to do family stuff with the man's family was this: I suggested that we hide my car in the garage and pretend that we are visiting my parents for the weekend. I thought we were in agreement about this, until I was informed that we will be attending a dinner with the man's family Saturday night. This doesn't go along with my plan, but the damage has been done and now I have to go or look like a bitch for not going. As much as I would like to take the bitch route, I know there would be repercussions and I'm not going to ruin the remainder of my weekend by having to listen to a disgruntled, pouty boyfriend. On second thought, there has been trouble brewing amongst some of the members of the family and nothing says Easter like a drunken outburst at dinner, so this could be more interesting than first expected.

glutton

I'm a glutton. A glutton for storage. Most women I know are lacking for storage space. I am not. The amazingly wonderful man who built our house did so in such a way to use every single possible square foot for storage. We have nearly 30 closets in our house. Yes, 30. There are built-ins everywhere. A china built-in in the dining room. A bookcase by the fireplace. Built-in dressers in each of the bedrooms.

When I first moved in it was kind of confusing, doors everywhere, but now that I'm used to that, I have found that I still want more. Perhaps it is because of all of the closets and built-ins that I am jealous of others with fewer storage options. I want a credenza, and a dresser, and a buffet, and all of those wonderful pieces of furniture in which to store stuff, and objects, and items, and everything one might need to throw in a cubby somewhere so as not to alarm parents when they come to visit.

But, alas, I'm plagued with the sensibility of the man who built the house and avoid purchasing unnecessary storage furniture. Even though there is a gorgeous Danish modern dresser at a local antique store that is screaming my name, loudly, with such vigor that it makes me want to write an '80s ballad about it.

single again

Over the weekend something has come between me and the man. It takes up a large percentage of his free time, leaving me with a lot more alone time. It is almost like being single again. That thing is the xBox 360 that came home with the man last Friday.

The arrival of the xBox has pushed for a speedier arrival of another object to take up the man's time...a 42 inch flat-screen television. Because the 40 inch TV in the living room that belongs to the roommate isn't good enough. We need one in our living room upstairs so that we can play games without interruption. Not to mention that I have a perfectly good 32 inch TV in my living room upstairs that has cable hookup allowing me to avoid those playing video games elsewhere in the house. I'm not so sure that this will be a good thing, this marriage of spaces and entertainment.

Hopefully we won't be getting the bigger TV until much later in the spring...or maybe next year. I guess it all depends when Uncle Sam sends out the economic stimulus checks. It is important to note that mine will go toward debt, not a new TV.

fragile

I'm at work, despite not feeling well due to some sort of cold/flu that hasn't quite manifested itself fully yet and the heartburn that kept me awake all but two hours last night. I'm assuming the heartburn is stress-related and despite the fact that I have chewed about 20 Tums in the past 12 hours, it is still rearing its ugly head. In my sleep-deprived haze last night I actually thought that I could burn someone if I opened my mouth too close to them. As a result, I wouldn't face the man, because I like his face and wouldn't want to burn it off with the fire coming up through my throat.

My friend Kristen's grandmother once referred to me as fragile or delicate or something like that. I am not so sure about those terms, they make me laugh when used in reference to me, but I have to admit that I am not made of steel. I think it is the stubbornness that is plaguing me, causing me to get so stressed out that I end up getting sick. Despite all the issues that I have had in terms of my health, I still feel like I am ten feet tall and bulletproof sometimes. The constant pain and the cold that won't go away are forcing me to face the realization that I'm not as strong as I thought. But if you call me a delicate flower I might have to kick you in your naughties or breathe that fire out of my throat in your direction. I'd let you pick.

lagging

I'm exhausted. The bad thing is that I have done nothing fun to make me exhausted. No out of the ordinary sex marathons, no marathons that include running, no marathons that include drinking...only work. And more work. And after that, yeah, there was more fucking work. I've never been so happy for Wednesday to come, even though I know I'll be at work at least 12 hours, at least it is halfway through the week.

While I'll never understand why people want children so badly, I do understand that what I'm experiencing in terms of feeling overworked and underpaid is nothing in comparison to having to take care of the creature you pushed out of your body. At least I can throw some food in a dish on the floor and take a nap (in regard to the animals, of course, the man can get his own damned food so I can take a nap). But...in terms of longevity and capability, a kid would be around long enough to learn how to make me dinner... Nah, I don't have the patience for that. Never mind that I would have to PUSH THE KID OUT OF MY BODY before it could learn anything.

Why am I rambling? Why am I asking myself questions? It's because I'm on the verge of the flu and have been working on too many projects in too short a time frame. If I don't make any sense, then just be glad that I won't be reproducing. I don't think the world is read for the antics and crankiness of a mini-Trish.

new music monday

I'm loving Minuit. They are a band out of New Zealand and have a kick-ass Website. You should check it out if you have a few minutes to spare. It's interactive and you can "talk" to whomever else is on the site. Check it out.

sadness in the frozen tundra

Today Brett Favre announced his retirement. It is a sad day for Packer fans. I am amongst those who are grieving the loss. I can unabashedly say that I love Brett Favre and how happy and angry he made me feel throughout 16 years of autumnal Sundays, and the occasional Monday night. Perhaps I'm crazy, but I am totally going to miss that man. Adieu.

snowslut

Yesterday was gorgeous. It was 40+ degrees outside, sunny, not too windy...glorious. I built a snowperson. A snow-woman, actually. Sidenote: I've noticed lately that the disgusting pigman dickbag roommate is throwing cigarette butts off the porch and into my currently snow-covered garden. As I have said before...he is both a slovenly assnasty and a stupid moron. This annoys me and I don't like him...but I do tolerate him. I felt a bit snarky yesterday and thought a tiny retaliation was in order. This brings us back to my snowchick. I made her overweight, smoking a cigarette, and with droopy boobies. (Wait for it...there is a reason.) I then informed the roommate that I met a woman that I thought he even had a chance of getting with. All that was missing was a case of herpes. And that she was outside waiting for him. The man and I were thoroughly amused, the roommate slightly less so. I wonder why.

how to perturb me

• Make me feel guilty for not putting in overtime. Overtime that I won't get paid for. It is not my fault that you are never in the damned office.
• Ask me if I want paper of plastic, and when I say paper, give me plastic anyway.
• Put the silverware in the wrong slots in the drawer. How hard is it to distinguish between a fork and a spoon? I bet they would both hurt if I tried to use them to gouge out your eyes, but their aren't many other similarities.

something to look forward to

I'm excited. There is a new Counting Crows album coming out, Saturday Nights and Sunday Mornings, on March 25, 2008. Yay! I knew they were releasing a new album, but I thought it was slated for later in the year. I believe I will indulge myself and pre-order it today.

missing...

As it worked out, there was not bad weather (at least not bad enough to warrant the amount of time various weather people spent warning us of the potential storm and telling us to avoid travel because we would likely die if we left the safety of our homes). There was no real storm. They fucked up, plain and simple, and freaked the citizens of southern WI out for no apparent reason other than that weather people feed off the fear and terror of normal people. And they are evil bastards. Anyway, the man had to work (and the dirtbag, piece-of-shit roommate was also gone somewhere) so I had the house to myself, not counting the cat and dog. It was bliss.

Seriously, it was fabulous beyond description. I was able to keep the house clean for multiple hours at a time...make lots of noise without worrying about other people...walk around in various levels of undress without fear of the dickbag roommate appearing in his usual pervertedness...work on projects without the man coming up behind me thinking that I look cute while concentrating and trying to get randy. It was like living alone again.

Oh, how I sometimes yearn for the years I spent living alone before I became we. No people unless I wanted people. The whole bed to myself. All of it. And I didn't have to worry about maneuvering through a mountain of dirty clothes to get to the bedroom door. There were bags of chips that didn't disappear mere hours after they were brought home (unless I, myself, made them disappear). Yes, I was lonely at times, but it was wonderful. I was carefree.

The man knows that I sometimes miss living alone; I think he does, too. It has been longer since he lived alone than I, so I imagine that he has nearly forgotten the luxury of having his own place. We have our own areas, places where the other doesn't venture often, that give us some semblance of privacy...but it isn't the same. I have come to the conclusion that you have to love someone so much that you are willing to go through the rest of your life without experiencing the nirvana that is living alone. Or, you have to be stubborn to the point that you will not admit that you would rather live by yourself. One or the other, I imagine.

For as much as I miss living on my own, though, I don't think I would want to live apart from the man. This bothers me. It makes me feel old. I wonder if this feeling ever goes away, the fear of being adult...the fear of having to say goodbye to your youth to embrace the future? I'm not sure I want to know.

personal day

I'm going to be taking a personal day off from work tomorrow. It isn't really for "personal" reasons. I am taking the day off because I don't want to worry about traveling on the dangerous roads as we receive upwards of 8 inches of snow, sleet, and ice over the next day. Yes, I'm taking the day off due to weather. No, it doesn't make me happy. I'd much rather be taking the day off to do fun and exciting vacation-type things. I don't think I've taken more than two days off from work for things like that ever. I need to get a life.

The good thing is that because of the nature of his job, the man will be home as well (due to inclement weather). If I'm going to be housebound, I'm glad that he'll be stuck at home with me.

the end

I'm done with work. I'm officially off the clock for the week. It is a grand feeling. A freeing feeling. This week has felt as though it would never end. But it has. And, it is sunny outside. I dare to say that it even looks like it will not kill be to spend more time outdoors than what it takes to get from the car to the building. Perhaps I will take the mongrel-beast-animal named Jammer out for a walk when I get home. Or, I will stand on the porch, basking in the sun while she runs crazily around the yard.

For as much as I hate long weeks, I love them for the simple fact that I feel so unbelievably happy when they are over. The kind of happiness that you felt as a child when summer vacation came...but this is better because it happens on a weekly basis. A horrible work week is not like some awful things are, the things that when I am finished, I look back and think "that wasn't so bad." A bad work weeks is different because...it is that bad. And I am glad that it is over. Really glad. Genuinely glad. So glad that I want to rip my shirt off and run around jumping for joy as though I had just won the World Cup. But I won't celebrate like that because it would be awkward and uncomfortable. What I will do is start what has the possibility of turning out to be an awful work week on Monday.

In the meantime, I will enjoy the reprieve that is the weekend. I hope you do the same.

neither rain, nor sleet, nor gloom of night...

I just bought stamps online. It is the best thing since the invention of sex. You go to the USPS site, find the stamps you want, pay online, then wait for them to show up in the mail (free shipping). I don't know why I didn't know about this sooner. It is amazing. No waiting in line. No grumpy postal workers. No hours of operation that you can't possibly abide by. I'm hooked. Thank you USPS.

invigorated

I'm going to be painting the office this weekend. For real. I've decided that I need to make an area for myself that is both aesthetically appealing and conducive to work. While I was hoping to wait until spring, I now realize that in terms of my timeline for thesis completion, I'm going to have to schedule time daily and/or weekly to reach my deadline. If I'm going to be spending all of this time working, I'd like to work in a home office that is serene and not stark white with random shit stored here and there.

While these tasks are already making me weary, I know that it is time to buckle down and pull my head out of my ass. I have a new coworker with a background in rhetoric who has been monumentally useful in jumpstarting my project. She allows me to bounce ideas off of her and offers criticism in such a way that I am left to ponder a solution, rather than leaving me irritable and hurt. Best of all, we can converse face-to-face. I think one of my major problems was the divide left by communication via e-mail and phone.

I think I'm actually making progress. Her arrival not only cut my workload back to manageable proportions, but also gives me a "mentor," so to speak.

letter to netflix

Dear Netflix,

I thoroughly enjoy your movie delivery service. I signed up for membership two years ago, and in the months since I have saved both money and time. I also have taken advantage of your discounted movie prices and have purchased a number of my favorites for significantly less than I could elsewhere. I thank you for that. You have suggested a number of movies that have been added to my all-time favorite list. You have also suggested a number of awful movies that have prompted my boyfriend to threaten never to watch a movie I have selected again. (What makes you think I'd be into sex-mongers and crackheads? I get a couple independent films and now you can't get your mind out of the gutter...shame on you.) I will forgive you for that because you are not human, and therefore even more fallible in my opinion. If you were human, I would light a bag of dog shit on fire on your doormat for each craptastic movie you have sent my way. But, you are not, so we don't need to go there.

My concern is that you only seem to care about the new customer. Why, when I go to your site to check on my queue, is the "Member Sign In" button relegated to the upper left hand corner while the new member option is the whole damned page? Isn't my money good enough for you? Why do you have to treat me like the red-headed stepchild sent to the corner when I never did anything wrong? I am assuming it is because you are a money-hungry bitch and that once a customer signs their contract they are out of your mind. You are like a shark, lusting for the new kill and instantly forgetting the previous meal. You ask me to rate the quality of your service, pretending to care about my opinion, yet every time I open the site I'm sent back to the fucking corner.

Again, thank you for your quick turnaround time and otherwise stellar performance. Please move the damned button to a more prominent place on your screen. On second thought, the ding-dong-ditch dog shit thing might not be such a bad idea.

Sincerely,
Trish T.

working for the presidents

Today is Wisconsin's primary election. I must admit that I am a bit torn. Philosophically, I believe a woman is capable of being president, I believe a woman should be president...unfortunately, I'm not so sure that this woman should be president. I'm wavering between Obama and Clinton.

I guess I can say that I want hope. And I want a payoff. I don't want empty promises that aren't delivered. I want change. Yes, Clinton is best set to hit the ground running. But there are some issues that I can't back (e.g. mandated health care). Obama is inspirational and ignites passion in the voters. It is a hard choice.

Also, my decision will be somewhat based on money. I know what I want. The presidents are supposed to work for us, yet we are all working for the presidents (aka figures on the dollars we earn). Our hard-earned money is being used by the very people who should be working for us. Our nation is built on the idea that the government should fear its people, not the other way around. Right now we are stuck with a president who has tripled (yes, tripled) our national deficit during his two terms in office and we are on the heels of recession. I don't see how any of that is in our best interests.

Along that vein, in my research I have found more comfort in Obama's plan to stimulate the economy and help the middle class. His policies seem tangible, while I have found Clinton's to lack substance. Both have the same end goal, but their approaches are different.

Clinton has run a very negative campaign. She uses rhetoric spouting "I," "I," "I." Obama offers hope to the American people and uses "you," and "we" in his speeches, knowing that he is working for us. As there isn't much difference between the end goals of their respective policies, I'm afraid that I have to err on the side of character and choose Obama. I have until 5:00 this evening (when I hit the polls) to make my final decision. I'm sure I'll be waffling until then.

Of course, you may not agree. Hell, I may not agree. I'll just have to wait to see how many times my mind changes before 5:00 pm.

waiting...

Today has been one of the longest workdays I've had in a long time. My boss was out of the office, of which I wasn't informed. Apparently, him just not showing up is all the notice I get (and I know there has not been any kind of emergency keeping him from the office). Oh well. The projects that need approval will have to wait until next week.

I'm going to go see the movie Juno with a coworker tonight. We have been trying to see it for the past month, but inclement weather has thwarted all attempts at scheduling. I'm quite excited to finally watch it.

Waiting being the theme of the day, it seems that I will also be waiting for new episodes of Pushing Daisies to air, according to a TV Guide listing of when many primetime shows will be airing fresh episodes now that the writers' strike has ended. Alas, it is a long wait until next fall, but if this damned winter ever ends I'll be able to spend my time doing things more worthwhile than sitting on my ass in front of the television.

Thank God...only fifteen more minutes until I leave for the theater.

out from under

Happy Valentine's Day! I love you all from the bottom of the bloody, beating organ in my chest.

I think I'm finally out from under the funk I've been in for the past few weeks. We had a bit of sun yesterday and my spirits totally lifted. I looked out the window in my office and there was a tiny bit of sun peeking out from behind the clouds. I was so excited that you'd think I had just discovered fire. The sun finally made its break for it and was out the rest of the afternoon. Even though we've gone back to the drudgery of the greyness that is winter, I'm still in a good mood from basking in the wonderful sun yesterday.

In observance of the holiday, many of my coworkers have brought in baked goods. I brought in banana-flavored laffy taffy that I took out of the mixed candies I had purchased the man. All of the sugar is helping to keep my spirits up and I don't even like sweets that much.

I hope you all are able to take the opportunity to indulge yourselves today.

housebound

I'm depressed. I need the sun. The vitamins aren't cutting it anymore. I'm so stir crazy that I'm about to burst. I've said it before, but winter is too damned long. I need green grass and flip flops. And the sun! I need weather warmer than 0 degrees. I want to forget what wind chill is. It's only half-way through February and I've been on self-imposed house arrest because of the weather and poor driving conditions for over two months. I go to work, but that doesn't count. I've been spending over an hour and a half in the car every day. This must stop. I miss the days when I could get to work in fifteen minutes.

I'm whining, I know. But come on...we've gotten 80 inches of snow! That's over 6.5 feet! What kind of sick joke is this? My parents live in the "northwoods" and have only gotten half that much. This unprecedented snowfall is making me cranky. Argh!

objection...sustained

I'm afraid I may have angered a few of you with my recent post regarding the love day and diamonds. I honestly am shocked that people feel so strongly about what I had written. For that, I apologize and send a reminder that this blog is only my opinion on things and that I am not prescribing a point-of-view for anyone else. I also apologize for not publishing all comments - some of them hurt my feelings and I responded to them individually. This blog is just me writing about mundane crap and my ideas about life and things less important. Perhaps I should explain in better context why I feel as I do.

In that same vein, it was recently brought to my attention that I likely have clothing or products made by children in sweatshops and that I may have been hasty in spewing the reasons for my distaste for shiny rocks...err diamonds. This is true. I'm not sure where some of my clothing was produced, nor am I sure by whom. But, I will say that in the past two years I have made an effort to purchase handmade products from local vendors and also to purchase "green," environmentally-friendly, and sustainable alternatives. When I do buy objects from unsustainable resources, I try to buy used. I buy produce and select other items from farmers' markets. I seek out local vendors that are not part of franchises. I buy groceries from the local grocery store even though they don't have the best prices, but rather because they are locally owned and operated. I research stores and companies and try to avoid those that test on animals and that make shady references regarding production. I buy American when I can. I do what I can with the budget I have.

I must admit that I have often lived under the mindset that since I won't be spawning, I shouldn't be as concerned about environmental issues/events that will be more serious after I become ashes in the wind. Two things have prompted me to rethink that. The first is that I have a nephew now, and another nephew/niece on the way. Secondly, we've gotten over 79 inches of snow so far this season and that number could rise to as much as 100 by the end of April. That is seriously fucked up and I can't help but believe that our presence on Earth has made it all wonky. I'm not one to stimulate the economy on a regular basis. I buy the things I need when I need them, and little else. But now, I am more conscious of what I buy and what consequence each purchase might have.

I'm not going to spout the bullshit of what you do today will make a better tomorrow. I'm too selfish for that. I am more likely to do what I do today so that I can sleep at night with a clearer conscience. It is a personal choice and I'm not proselytizing. I just don't think I could be happy about my choices if I looked down at my hand and saw a big rock on my finger, knowing that someone may have suffered because of what I perceive as vanity. That doesn't mean I can't be happy for those who do like that kind of thing. Hell, I get giddy when I order office supplies...and I know a lot of people don't understand that. I just don't see the symbolism in that particular stone as others do, and I don't see the value, but I don't chastise them for how they feel either. I agree with the point that an object can remind you that you are loved and I think that is fabulous. I think that can be said about any object, smell, taste, memory. For those that have diamonds and love them, good for you! Seriously. If you have something from someone you love who loves you, then why would I be upset about that? I guess I could be upset if it is a rabbit carcass you hang around your neck...but that's a different topic completely.

And now I will step down from my soapbox.

judgement, flowers, and diamonds

As you may have noticed, my banner has changed to reflect the Valentine's Day holiday. I'm not a big follower of Valentine's Day fanfare, as some of my friends are. I celebrate Valentine's Day for Kristen, because it is her favorite holiday, whether she is single or coupled. Perhaps it is because she is more of a romantic than I. Or it could be her uncontrollable addiction to Brach's candy hearts.

I see it as more of a judgement day than a holiday. I actually found that I liked V-day more when I was single. When you are single, you don't get the invasive questions about what your other is going to do for you on Valentine's Day. People leave you alone, or you get even more goodies from friends because you are single and they don't think you'll be getting any love from anyone else. When you are coupled, people look at your empty work desk and ask probing questions like, "aren't you going to get flowers today?" or make a rude statement like "I guess someone forgot it was Valentine's Day." To be honest, I don't like receiving flowers. They will wilt and die. I don't care for chocolates. I prefer something more sustainable. People don't seem to understand that I would rather receive a potted plant than a flower.

Another V-day staple seems to be jewelry. And most women want diamonds. I don't see what all the fuss is about. pssst...it is a rock...from the ground. (And not to mention that someone in Africa may have been killed or abused when trying to mine the 1 karat stone on your ring finger that your other probably spent a month's salary to give you.) I don't like diamonds. They look like glass. When you really think about it, glass would make more sense than a diamond, given that people often justify the expenditure of diamonds by the symbolic nature of the stone. Diamonds are hard, they last forever. Glass is neither liquid, nor solid and it is easily broken, just like a relationship. Similarly, you can't define a relationship and one wrong move and you may break it forever. Relationships, like glass, take care to maintain. I like that symbolism better than the hard, unchanging diamond.

So, I doubt that Valentine's Day will be anything spectacular. I'm sure it will feel like any other day. I may be odd, but I don't celebrate anniversaries either. To be honest, the man and I don't have an anniversary and don't really know when we officially started dating. I guess all that sentimentality is lost on me.

But, if you still really want to woo me, office supplies may be a better choice.

alone

I'm at work. I'm the only person in the whole building. The only person. There is no one else here. At all. It's perfect. I get the feeling that I would like working completely alone. No interruptions. No idle chatter. No timesucks at all. Just me and my work. I'm definitely savoring this opportunity. I have only been here for 45 minutes and I have already gotten done what would normally take me three to four hours. It's fabulous. I had to come in to open the building for some classes which will start in about 30 minutes, but in the meantime I am alone.

When I really think about it, this is the first time I have been alone in a very, very long time. At home, the roommate is there 85% of the time and the animals are there 100% of the time - so I don't go solo at home ever. Sometimes I really miss having my own place all to myself. I wonder if that will ever go away.

access

I'm online at home right now. Barely. If you can call slow-ass dial-up being online. I've likely mentioned my issues with internet access from home before. Dial-up is our only option because we are the only house on our road and thus are too far from a "hub." Every neighbor we have, every house we can see from our house, they all have high-speed internet. We don't. We are in the stone age of internet connectivity. Our only option other than dial-up is satellite - and even with that the man would be unable to play video games online because of the the 1-2 second lag time. With that being the case, it is hardly justifiable to pay $100 for internet access that doesn't allow us to do what we want. So, instead I have decided to give up and pay $20 per month to wait for pages to load and downloads never to come through.

If I didn't love where we live, the near-privacy, the similarities to where I grew up, this would never work. I am not always at the forefront of technical gadgetry, but I could definitely use something better than 28.8 Kbps. Alas, at least if need be I can now work from home. Argh.

letter to winter 2

Dear Winter,

You are a motherfucking bastard. I write you a little bit of hatemail and you respond by slapping me in the face with your testicles to the tune of over 14 inches of snow, just to show me that you are all-powerful and to humble me while I pick pubes off my cheek. You are an evil, evil season. I was trying to be nice in my last letter, admitting to the grandeur and beauty of your snow...that is over. All that got me was a snowstorm larger than the area has seen since 1990. That is nearly twenty years. You sure are one hateful dickbag.

Insincerely,
Trish T.

first time in a long time

I finished a major project at work today. My project. A project that is utterly and completely of my own design and doing. It has been in progress for the past six months (including time when I was awaiting approvals, etc.). I can't even describe how good it felt to send it out and actually receive heaps of praise. This is a rarity in my job, where most of my time is spent waiting for the "powers that be" to approve things via processes that can take over a year. For the first time in what feels like ages, I will leave work feeling like a success rather than a failure.

when

I have now realized that marriage is likely an imminent event for me. Perhaps it is wrong to use a negatively connotated word like imminent, but that is how I feel - like I have something hanging over my head, and when I least expect it I will be crushed under its weight.

The man and I have settled quite comfortably into our semi-monthly spewing and regurgitation of love words. Not too much, not too little. We talk about the future as though we will always be together, but without any talk of committment in legal sense. Lately, however, I have been getting the feeling that the man is more open to the idea of matrimony. Why, you ask? Because of the pool of cess called Country Music Television. While eating dinner, we were forced to watch the crap that the roommate had chosen to watch (because the dining room and living room are one big room and we have a 40 inch TV). And so it came to be that we were introduced to the horror that is "My Redneck Wedding."

The bride rode in on a tractor. The ENTIRE wedding party wore camouflage. Not just a little camouflage, entire suits made of camouflage. They used taxidermy animals as decorations for their wedding - that they purposely brought to the reception - and served beans as the main course. I'm not one for pomp, but come on...if you are going to go through the trouble of wearing a suit, wear a fucking suit and not a camouflage jumper with a blaze orange hat. The groom gave the bride a pink rifle as a gift.

I thought this was horrible. The man thought it was amusing. He kept making comments like "I'm sure you'll kill me if I do that when we get married," and "You'd better be taking notes, because that that might be a good idea." And then there was the grinning...so much grinning. I am assuming that the grinning was in response to the look of horror on my face as I watched the trainwreck unfolding on the screen.

I am not jumping to conclusions and I fully realize that he may have just been acting stupid, but speaking of matrimony in this way is definitely odd. When I met the man he was the so adverse to marriage that it almost put me off. I would almost go so far as to say that he is bitter in regard to it. Personally, as I have mentioned before, I am not opposed to the option of marriage but I am not ready for it yet. I'd be better off with a very long engagement (think decades) so that I could ease into the marriage thing.

Am I over-analyzing? Perhaps. I won't lose any sleep in anticipation of a proposal, that's for sure. I am in no danger of this event approaching with any speed. It is the mere twinkle that it might be in the future that has triggered a disturbance in my happy little bubble of stability and comfort.

And to think, all this contemplation over a show where the final scene concludes with the groom asking the bride "Are you excited to go back to the hotel so we can constipate the marriage?"

how to elate me...

• offer to lock up the building so that I can leave on time and not have to worry about kicking out stragglers.
• get the mail without me calling to remind you that my contacts will be arriving and will freeze if left in the mailbox. (whew!)
• remind me that it is the first of the month and that I can finally change my lovely calendar to the next sheet.

how to perturb me...

• only scrape the snow and ice off of the windshield and front windows of your car, completely forgetting how you are a dumbass and may need to SEE BEHIND YOU. This makes you lazy, stupid, and dangerous.
• show up to work six hours after you should've been there and then give me a nasty look when I leave for the day (after having been at work for 8 hours).
• have the day off from work (make that the last 5 days off from work) and then ask me what is for dinner when I get home from the office.
• get your degree in meteorology, work for a major news station, and then when you explain the weather, use question marks behind what should be statements: Windy with a chance of flurries?...1-2" of snow?...Sunny?

taxes

My taxes are filed. I was able to e-file free of charge and the refunds will be deposited directly into my accounts. This makes me very happy. I wasn't able to file my state return electronically last year and it took me forever to get to a bank with the paper check. Now the money will be in my grubby little hands in the next 8-15 days. Woo hoo!

Okay, so the vast majority of it is going toward debt, but still...it is exciting for that brief moment that I see it in my bank account. And yes, it was fun and I am a dork.

letter to winter

Dear Winter,

I hate you. I think you suck, but not for the reasons you expect. I can bear the snow and the bad weather. It is something that I have come to understand and I can take precautions to make these things manageable. I can take a vacation day when you make the roads too treacherous to navigate and I can wear layer upon layer of clothing, turning me into an asexually rounded yeti. At least these things have advantages: I can stay home from work or avoid being hit on by unwanted suitors.

Rather, I hate you because of the way you make me feel. You make me numb in mind and body. You are accompanied by grey skies and gloom. You are as temperamental as a schizophrenic: one minute spewing snow from your steely clouds, the next firing lightning bolts and ice down from the heavens. If I were to admire anyone for anything, it would be for consistency in their work...of this you exhibit nothing but inconsistency. I hate that the meteorologists are incompetent at predicting your "episodes" and that there is no warning for your outbursts. You make me shiver with a death-like coldness that begins in the tip of my nose and runs through my body with the intensity of the first teenage "love" pangs. You make my boyfriend contort his body into a protective stance each time I come near him with my freezing "ice claws." You make me wish I hadn't been ordered to give up caffeine, and thus give up coffee and hot chocolate that used to warm my numbness. You make my bank account shrivel, but stretch at the same time, because of increasing fuel costs both for my car and to heat my house. You make the dog stand as though she were a tripod while trying to relieve herself in the bitter temperatures. You make me wish for warmer climates and a work-from-home job allowing me to be a shut-in and avoid you altogether. You make me hate the poets who have thought you worthy of putting pen to paper, the photographers who capture the first frost-covered mornings before the weight of your unsteady yet unrelenting fist has smashed upon the world, crushing out all hope and happiness. You make me curse the winter sport fanatics for wishing you would last longer, thus canceling out my own wishes that you'll pack up your shit and leave already. You make me yearn for spring, despite the odor of cow feces that will undoubtedly fill the air. You make me spend my time wishing for the future instead of enjoying the present, thus stealing precious time from my life (all the while realizing that this act is my own damned fault, for which I hate you even more).

Did I mention that I hate you, Winter. I do. From the bottom of my frozen, clicking heart.

Sincerely,
Trish T.

midwest

For all of my friends who have moved onward and outward from the Midwest, you are much smarter than I. I am pretty sure that half of my ass is still frozen to the leather seat in my car, thanks to the subzero wind chill of nearly -30 degrees. I really ought to get a seat cover.

For those of you who still suffer at the hands of Jack Frost (a man who, in my opinion, should be strung up by his balls, drenched with boiling water and left in the wintry hell he has created), you know my pain.

I doubt that I'll be moving anytime soon, but I am mulling over the possibility of branching out even farther from the nest. If I could afford a plane ticket home in the case of an emergency, I would feel more comfortable leaving the Midwest for places without 8 months of winter. I'm not sure that the man will ever leave WI again, but it may be time to plant the seed in his mind. A seed that will probably not break ground any time in this decade.

Don't get me wrong. There are many things I love about Wisconsin. (Minnesota, though, is a different story and I wouldn't move back there even if someone threatened to cut off all of my fingers with a grapefruit spoon.)

• I love the spring, summer, and fall.
• Trees.
• It is beautiful here.
• I live within 15 minutes of the capitol, but still live in the "country."
• I am close, but not too close, to family.
• There are many things to do, if I were to choose to do them.
• Cheese. Need I say more?

I hate the winter with a passion though. A passion strong enough to uproot me if we have to go through multiple winters like this one. I may be one of the very few people hoping for global warming (or at least its effect on winter in WI).

new CEO in the family

My nephew is already planning world domination. Perhaps I will let him invest my money for me. He's an ambitious kid, working at the ripe old age of 1.

time

Another quote that piqued my interest, in regard to time and the acts you perform to combat time, fill time, or escape it.

"We are weighed down, every moment, by the conception and sensation of Time. And there are but two means of escaping and forgetting this nightmare: pleasure and work. Pleasure consumes us. Work strengthens us. Let us choose."
-- Charles Baudelaire (a French poet)

short end

My mom e-mailed me today to see if I had gotten anything for Christmas from my grandpa. He generally gives us each an envelope with $10-20. I assumed that he wasn't doing that anymore as I didn't get anything. As it turns out, he just realized he has an extra envelope and I had been missed. I'm not upset about it, but it does leave me with an uneasy feeling of being forgotten...kind of like the time when my aunt drove away and left me at church in the middle of the winter when I was 7. I had to walk the four blocks to my grandparents' house, which wasn't a big deal. It was the being forgotten part that stung worse than having to walk through the snow in church shoes.

As it turns out, the State of Wisconsin has also forgotten me. I haven't received my tax forms in the mail this year. It is probably because they owe me money. It seems you are always least likely to hear from those you owe you some dough.

sophocles had it right

"The keenest sorrow is to recognize ourselves as the sole cause of all our
adversities." --Sophocles

I am feeling this quote quite personally when it comes to my tendency toward procrastination. I think we all dig ourselves into holes now and again. It takes a strong person to admit that you have no one to blame but yourself.

small favors

I went through all my desk drawers and completely re-evaluated the way I organize my home office. I found a gift card to Bath and Body Works from my 2006 birthday and an iTunes gift card from Christmas 2006. I had forgotten about both. I guess I'm not as broke as I thought...Yay!

foggy

I've been barely coherent for the past week. Despite my best efforts to avoid ailing coworkers, I seem to have caught the cold/flu that is running through the College. I'm on the mend, was out of the office on Tuesday because of the horrible headache and mind numbing sinus congestion. I think I'll be over it by the end of the weekend - because you know that I love wasting non-working days being ill. Chicken soup isn't working. Vitamin C didn't help ward off the sick. I eat at least one grapefruit every day, like clockwork, and it seems to have done nothing for me other than bathe my taste buds in deliciousness...no healing or preventative properties that I can speak of.

I went to the cardiologist yesterday to have him check my ticker out. Apparently, ticker is apropos because instead of the regular heartbeat sounds, mine includes a few extra ticks/clicks. This is not uncommon as 4% of women have a similar condition. It's something to do with my heart murmur, as are the episodes. Apparently, the mitrovalve prolapse (fancy word for my type of murmur) makes me more susceptible to heartbeat fuck-ups. In other words: my episodes will continue, they won't kill me, aren't really dangerous and could be tempered by medication if I were so inclined. I am not so inclined. I can live with my erratic heartbeat knowing that I'm not dying as a result. I've had to have a chest echo and CT scan. Once the results are in the doctor will be sending me any additional instructions (and I hopefully won't have to go back).

Also coming out of yesterday's appointment is a call for a major lifestyle change. I'm going to have to up my aerobic activity - much of my PT stuff is weight training - and thus, am in the market for a recumbent bike (which has been okayed as a form of exercise by my physical therapist). I'm supposed to watch my diet (maybe try to lower my cholesterol, which is on the high end of normal). I guess I won't be eating a steady diet of cheeseburgers and chips anymore.

I am fine, I have more and less on my plate. Less to worry about, more to do. It's all manageable, but right now I'm just tired and wishing that my cold would go away.

in my head

I am in love with "In Rainbows," the newly released Radiohead album. The man bought it for me last night and I've listened to it on repeat all day at work. I have a tendency to do this with new cds, listen to them until I have memorized every note and word. I have a feeling I will not be getting sick of this cd any time soon. Note: if you don't like Radiohead, shame on you, and you probably won't like this album. There are a couple songs on this cd where Thom Yorke sounds a lot like Rufus Wainwright (whom I love, even though he is a homosexual man who will never love me in return).

In other news, I have Monday off from work in observance of M. L. King Day. Sometimes I love working in higher ed. Not as many days off as bankers, but we do get some extras for holidays.

I plan on staying inside to avoid the sub-zero temperatures as much as possible. Of course I will be watching the Packer game on Sunday evening, but not too much going on other than that. I am still waiting for some tax documents that have yet to arrive, so that throws off my plan to do that this weekend. I may, however, paint the office instead. One can never tell.

fun and taxes

I'm a dork. I realize and embrace this as fact. I enjoy color-coordinating my files, organizing my closets, planning down to the minutiae, and doing my taxes. Yes, I enjoy doing my taxes. Granted, my taxes are relatively simple as I do not own land, am single, and have no dependents. Also, I am recently out of college so the mere fact that I earn more than $10,000 per year is still exciting, even if a large sum of it goes to the government. But, a good chunk of that is returned to me in the form of a refund so it makes the whole thing fun.

My refund will be spent lowering my debts and adding a little cushion to my savings. I have no plans for extravagance. I should be getting my W-2 tomorrow and then the fun will start.

technology rant

I'm likely going to work late tonight because we won't have tech support until later in the evening and I need my usb ports enabled to recognize my flash drive. The flash drive that is holding hostage the files I worked on last night. The brand new flash drive that the demonic work computers will not recognize, though my laptop was all "Welcome to fold, little flash drive! It's great to have you."

But not the work computers, of which there are many. They banded together to shout "Hey bitch, you don't have administrative rights on us so we won't recognize your twerpy little flash drive. We don't accept your kind around here. In fact, you don't even exist in our world."

Little do they know that I could throw each of them into the snow bank, frying their motherboards and rendering them unusable. But I won't. Instead, I will stew in the knowledge that the work I did last night will not be available for retrieval for many hours. So much for increasing productivity.

2008: so far so good (alternate title: optimism levels are high)

The Packers are one game away from the Super Bowl. This makes me deliciously happy. I wouldn't call myself an avid sports-watcher, but I do enjoy football and am near-fanatical about my teams. The Packers will play the Giants next and I'm anticipating a victory [knock on wood].

My optometry and dental appointments went swimmingly. I am still wearing the heart monitor created by demon spawn for the sole purpose of covering my skin with hives and itchiness. I have decided to wear it in three-day spurts, to allow time for my hive-ridden skin to heal a bit before I inflict more punishment. I'm optimistic that the doctors will be able to figure out what is going on, that it is nothing serious, and that I will be able to stop wearing this thing and go back to normal.

I've finally received the wonderful merchandise sent from heaven (also known as http://www.seejanework.com/), purchased with a fabulous gift certificate from the man's mother. My recent purchases are keeping me quite on track with my budgetary Nazism. I am able to tally, record, and/or store receipts and $s all in the same place (see: Accordion Organizer). I am in love with it and would marry it if I weren't so enthralled by the man. Along with the arrival of my fabulous array of office supplies, I have received equally fantastic news from the man. Operation: Paint the Ugly-Fucking-Office has been approved! I will likely go ahead with that little endeavor before the end of the month.

I will be getting paid tomorrow for the first time since December 20, 2007. Due to the holiday, we received our January 1, 2008 paychecks over a week early. Also, I am impatiently awaiting my W-2s so that I can file my taxes and hold a refund check in my grubby little hands. The majority of it will go toward debts, but the knowledge that those debts will be smaller makes me damn-near giddy.

So far, 2008 has broken the "even years are bad" theory to which I have previously prescribed.

eyes and teeth and lovejuice

I had an optometry appointment today. It was a follow-up to make sure that my eyes are not being destroyed from the inside because I've switched to a new brand of contact lenses. News was good - my eyes are not being destroyed. I have, however, been given a sample of a contact lens solution that WILL EAT MY EYES if I don't use it properly. I do not like the idea of this, but will try it nonetheless. I am confident in my ability to follow instructions, so I am hoping that the BURNING OF MY RETINAS will be foregone.

In other news, I will be having my bi-annual dental exam today. Yippee. This means panoramic x-rays of my chompers. I am hoping that the x-ray machine accidentally shoots its magic into my ovaries and takes out any chance of offspring. I am hoping this because I once again broached the topic of vasectomy with the man last night. I've been telling him that it is a simple, nearly painless, outpatient procedure and that he should just man up and do it. It would ultimately save us hundreds of dollars each year (condoms, birth control prescription). Yet, he claims that he doesn't want anyone going near his testicles with any sharp objects. I reminded him that I have a sharp mind and that he should have the surgery if he would like my head going anywhere near his man-package in the future. He did not concur.

NOTE: Sperm is made of broken futures, not candy and rainbows as some people believe.

projections

I'm generally an organized person. I may even be anal-retentive about it. The problem is that I have a tendency to allow organization become a procrastination tool. There is always something that can be organized, reorganized, or organized yet again. I'm better at the initiation of organization than I am on the follow-through for this reason - I know that there will be the opportunity to reevaluate and reorganize. One of my goals for the 2008 is to avoid doing this.

Another goal is to firmly cement my budget and adhere to it as though I will be cold and homeless if I stray from it. So far, this has gone well (even though it has only been one week). I have read a few books by Larry Winget on budgeting and getting "rich." Rich is not so much important to me as getting out of debt. Yes, I realize that the debt I have incurred is because of important things like education, but that doesn't make the monthly payments any easier to swallow. I generally have a budget that I am following, but I have been a bit lax at times. This will end. I will be a budgetary Nazi.

projects, goals, accomplishments, and lazy fatbodies

I am alive. I survived holiday season 2007. I made out like a bandit in regard to Christmas gifts and feel rich in the splendor. I'm still trying to get my shit together in terms of having been gone from work for over a week, which is why I haven't posted. I had a fabulous break, though fraught with inclement weather and much angst about the imminent return to work.


Over break I accomplished a number of things. I bought and framed some vintage geometric/mod fabric to go over the bed. The fabric is fabulous in and of itself because it is vintage and has orange in it:




In other news, I was able to visit my parents in the "northwoods" for day at Christmas. We had to leave early because of weather, but it was still a nice visit. My brother and his family were there. The kid is pretty cool, but did not conjure up any maternal instinct in me whatsoever. Both I and the man were happy about that.

As for New Year's resolutions, I don't really do that. I have goals for the year, but they are more or less just a guideline. I would like to:

1. finish my thesis and get my degree conferred
2. pay off my credit card debt (or at least get close)
3. pay off one student loan (likely the smallest one)
4. find a second job that I enjoy and that doesn't completely drain me (would not begin until #1 is completed and will aid in both #2 and #3)
5. get one step closer to financial stability that would allow us to kick the lazy-sack-of-shit, worthless, fatbody roommate out of the house and still be able to feed ourselves and the pets (without all of us having to resort to eating canned cat food)
6. take a class or attend some sort of fun learning experience/activity
7. participate in more charitable causes (e.g. I did the Race for the Cure last year and would like to do something like that and more)
8. become healthier and less dependent on physical therapy
9. continually remind myself that I need to keep working in this job so that I can gain enough experience to get a job that is more fulfilling (both mentally and financially)
10. use more locally-grown produce and locally-produced items

The man and I spent a quiet evening at home for New Year's. It was one of the two nights over break that we actually had the house to ourselves. The dickbag roommate has been more homebound than ever and is reverting to his slovenly ways. Thus, my tolerance for him is waning and if it weren't a financial necessity for his existency, the man and I would've thrown the vile crap he calls his belongings on the front yard months ago.

All in all, I'm optimistic about 2008. Happy New Year!

wired

I'm now hooked up to an event monitor (for my heart). I will be recording any "episodes" through January 2o. That equals one month of wearing these plastic nodes on my chest and toting a black electronic monitor on my waistband. I am not enthused, but realize that this is a means to the end of finding out why my heart acts like I take high doses of speed on a daily basis.

In other news, it is almost winter break! My friend Kristen is coming to visit en route to her parents'. This is good, as I will need respite from the onslaught of family festivities. My posts will be few and far between until January 2, when my break is over. Have a happy and joyous holiday season! Happy Birthday Jesus!