With the software conference looming in 4 days, and me with nothing to wear, I was really starting to panic. I tried to manipulate Camile, who does my hair, into shopping with me, but she had to work. She suggested I call Nordstrom's and arrange for a fashion consultation.
I went at 10 this morning and met Jessica, my consultant. She's about 21, is studying at modeling school, and wants to design her own clothes some day. At 5 feet tall and skinny as a rail, she was quite impressive storming around like the CEO of some company in her vertiginous heels. She was dressed in a perfectly fitted suit and this cute shirt. She definitely had style.
I explained my situation to her and told her that I have only ever worn Tahari suits. So we went over to the place where they had Tahari suits and Jessica started picking stuff out. "Do you like this?" she would ask. "Um, sure," I would say. I said that for everything she picked out and she started to get exasperated with me. Finally I was like "I don't care what the suit looks like really. I hired you to find one. I didn't realize I was going to have to pick it." I was getting very, very bored, and we had only been shopping for 15 minutes. It felt like hours.
So then I told her how I wanted something Audrey Hepburn-ish. She looked at me with my bedraggled hair (haven't washed it since I got it cut), my flip flops, and the rest of my disastrous outfit, and said "Audrey, hum".
We found 4 suits for me to try on, and then she asked if I knew my size. I thought I did so I told her I was an 8. I tried on the first suit and Jessica commented that I was supposed to unzip the skirt before putting it on, and that the suit was way too big. She asked what size my pants were and I told her they were a 6, and then brightly suggested that maybe my size was 6 instead of 8 and that sometimes I get my numbers confused. Jessica gave me a whithering look and said "NOTHING that you are wearing fits you. Those pants are WAY too big. It looks like you don't even have an ass." I mentioned that a lot of people say I don't have an ass and maybe that was the problem, not my pants, which I found quite comfortable. "Everyone has an ass" Jessica sighed, collecting up my four wrong sized suits.
"You wait right here and I'll be back" she commanded. Happy that my plan was working perfectly I pulled out my New Yorker and settled into my dressing room. I was hungry so I started eating some baby carrots I had brought with me.
"OH MY GOD, ARE YOU EATING IN HERE?" Jessica shrieked when she returned with the suits. She made me wipe my hands on a wet nap before I was allowed to touch the suits. I offered her a carrot and she wrinkled up her nose. "Slimy. Yuck." I decided to not take the insult to my carrots personally.
I tried on those 4 suits, and then 4 more, and then 4 more. I told her one was too twirrly, one had a weird belt that I couldn't figure out, one was a bright pink and black suit that Jessica swore Audrey would have worn, but I seriously doubt it. I was also having problems with my arms. The skirts all fit but in most of the long sleeved jackets if I so much as moved an arm Jessica would cringe as the fabric seemed ready to burst at the seams. Plus, my arms are about two inches longer than they should be, so wearing a size 4 jacket made my arms look ape like. And I kept having zipper problems because they connected the skirt to the jacket with this plastic thing and if I didn't put everything on just right I got all twisted up.
"I can't move in these things" I complained. "Why can't I just get a bigger suit and then I'll pin the skirt so it doesn't fall off?" That's what I usually do if I don't have time to get something tailored. "You are SO not going to do that" Jessica yelled. "Why do you need to move your arms so much anyway?" "Well, there might be an emergency where I have to move my arms a lot" I pointed out. Jessica rolled her eyes at me for the millionth time. "Then you could always take the jacket OFF."
Finally she found me a really cute linen and wool mix suit that had short sleeves so my arms didn't look weird. And it really does look kind of Audrey Hepburn-ish. Next stop was the shoe department, a place I used to love to go. But I'm not crazy about the current shoes, and Jessica was having a hard time finding something for me to wear.
"You really can't wear a sandal with those" she said, pointing at my feet. They're sunburned with a flip flop pattern because yesterday I took a conference call on my porch and when I'm in the sun for more than 5 minutes I burn. A few of my toe nails are white from painting my brother's house last weekend. And I have multiple blisters from my flip flops. I mentioned to Jessica that my sister had gotten me some pedicure stuff for watching her dogs, and that I just hadn't had time to use it. She gave me a doubtful look that anything might improve the look of my feet.
Jessica's boyfriend called around the time we had been through all the wedges. I told her there was no way I would wear a wedge. Before the wedges she had me try on some shoes with a 5 inch heel. I was like no way in hell, I will fall and break my ass on stage. Jessica and her boyfriend were in a fight so I told her to take the call. "Wait RIGHT here" she said "And DON'T buy ANYTHING until I come back and look at it".
As she was walking away I spied something interesting. It was a sandal, white, covered in lady bugs. The shoe was so horrible it was fantastic. I immediately wanted to try it on. So I asked for the shoe in my size and the shoe department lady looked at me doubtfully. "Jessica said to try those on?" she asked me. "Uh, yeah, I think those were the ones she said," I lied.
When they came I put them on. They were even more appalling on my feet. I did a little dance move in them because the monstrous lady bugs jiggled around whenever the shoe moved. I was standing in front of a mirror testing out different foot flex positions to see what would happen to the lady bugs when Jessica walked back and screamed "OH MY GOD! WHAT ARE YOU DOING???? TAKE THOSE OFF NOW!" The lady in the shoe department gave me a dirty look.
"But Jessica, these are my lady bug shoes with special lady bug robots on them. I'm going to infiltrate the conference and then take the whole thing over with my lady bug robot army." I smiled at her and she burst into tears. I felt bad so I took the shoes off and agreed to a pair of boring cream colored heels, even though I spied a pair of semi metallic heels that were amazing. "I saw on the show what not to wear that you can wear semi metallics in the day time" I told Jessica when she said I couldn't try those shoes on. She gave me a look and said "Well we aren't ON THAT SHOW ARE WE?"
It turns out while I was trying on the lady bug shoes Jessica broke up with her boyfriend and that's the real reason she started crying, not the lady bug shoes. She wanted me to follow her around to "accessorize" my suit but by then I was totally over shopping, and Jessica's mood had deteriorated to the point where it was obvious the perfect storm was just over the horizon. Instead I took her to starbucks and she told me what had happened regarding the break up. I told her the guy she was dating was a complete loser and that she was way too beautiful to put up with his behavior. I told her if he tried to get back together with her that she should kick him in the nuts. After a mocha whatever that thing was, and more pep talking, her mood improved.
We went back to the store and I was ready to buy my suit and shoes. The problem is, I had forgotten to ask how much the suit was. It cost $500. I had set a budget of $350. Surprisingly, they gave me the price I wanted. And luckily the shoes Jessica picked out were about a quarter of the cost of the semi metallic ones I wanted.
And now I have something to wear to my conference so I can cross that off my to do list.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Friday, May 29, 2009
don't ask, don't tell, don't be ridiculous
My sister is mad at me right now because a long time ago I wrote a story about this kid Vic whom I considered my best friend in elementary school. He practically lived at our house. Anyway, a few days ago Vic was forced to leave the military because someone outed him for being gay: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8NZDRjEKwtQ
Apparently doing a search on Vic found the story on my blog. I've since fixed that. But I got in touch with another friend from elementary school, Steve, (actually, he was my sister's friend) and he's going to try to put me back in touch with Vic.
As for what happened to him, I think it's disgusting and unconscionable. Steve thinks that someone who didn't like Vic outed him. What's insane is that the military is kicking him out.
I really don't get the whole "gays in the military" controversy. First of all, it's the 21st century. Someone's sexual orientation should not even be an issue. Second, it's like discriminating against any other group (african american, jews, etc). Third, that argument about sex mattering is insane.
I work with the military a lot. I get hit on by my customers a lot. Yes it sucks and is uncomfortable, but I manage to do my job. And, just speculation on my part, these are likely the same guys who are worried about who their fellow soldiers are sleeping with. If you're going to discriminate against someone for reasons of sex, why not include everything: people who are married and having affairs, people who sleep with anyone, etc. The soldiers I've talked to who are most against gays in the military usually have personal problems that lead to their opinions. I remember arguing with a guy in the Army about this. He said "I don't want to worry that a fellow soldier is going to hit on me". I was like "That's pretty arrogant to think anyone would find you attractive enough to hit on".
I hope that the human capacity is such that people can learn to respect other people even if those other people are not like them. People who are prejudice against certain groups of individuals are at best ignorant and at worst small minded idiots. As for the religious right, apparently it's too hard for them, or maybe too boring, to love their fellow man. They would rather cause hatred and discrimination against groups of people. I guess it makes them feel somehow important, though to anyone with a brain they just come across as scary because they make a drama about something that isn't even their business. I don't worry about how my neighbors spend their money, and neither should anyone else. Sex is the same thing. It's an individual's right.
A friend of mine left the air force about 3 years ago because she was so stressed about being a lesbian. My friend Neil and I were talking to her and she said "You have no idea what it's like to go to a party or any social function and worry that someone will find out who your partner is". She got to the point where she wouldn't even grocery shop near her base because she was afraid someone might find out she was dating another woman based on the groceries she was buying.
Something has to change with that policy in the military. And the torture policy. I don't see how someone could arbitrarily judge a person based on who they are in love with, and at the same time think it's okay to beat a prisoner to the point of organ failure. But, maybe I'm not that smart.
Apparently doing a search on Vic found the story on my blog. I've since fixed that. But I got in touch with another friend from elementary school, Steve, (actually, he was my sister's friend) and he's going to try to put me back in touch with Vic.
As for what happened to him, I think it's disgusting and unconscionable. Steve thinks that someone who didn't like Vic outed him. What's insane is that the military is kicking him out.
I really don't get the whole "gays in the military" controversy. First of all, it's the 21st century. Someone's sexual orientation should not even be an issue. Second, it's like discriminating against any other group (african american, jews, etc). Third, that argument about sex mattering is insane.
I work with the military a lot. I get hit on by my customers a lot. Yes it sucks and is uncomfortable, but I manage to do my job. And, just speculation on my part, these are likely the same guys who are worried about who their fellow soldiers are sleeping with. If you're going to discriminate against someone for reasons of sex, why not include everything: people who are married and having affairs, people who sleep with anyone, etc. The soldiers I've talked to who are most against gays in the military usually have personal problems that lead to their opinions. I remember arguing with a guy in the Army about this. He said "I don't want to worry that a fellow soldier is going to hit on me". I was like "That's pretty arrogant to think anyone would find you attractive enough to hit on".
I hope that the human capacity is such that people can learn to respect other people even if those other people are not like them. People who are prejudice against certain groups of individuals are at best ignorant and at worst small minded idiots. As for the religious right, apparently it's too hard for them, or maybe too boring, to love their fellow man. They would rather cause hatred and discrimination against groups of people. I guess it makes them feel somehow important, though to anyone with a brain they just come across as scary because they make a drama about something that isn't even their business. I don't worry about how my neighbors spend their money, and neither should anyone else. Sex is the same thing. It's an individual's right.
A friend of mine left the air force about 3 years ago because she was so stressed about being a lesbian. My friend Neil and I were talking to her and she said "You have no idea what it's like to go to a party or any social function and worry that someone will find out who your partner is". She got to the point where she wouldn't even grocery shop near her base because she was afraid someone might find out she was dating another woman based on the groceries she was buying.
Something has to change with that policy in the military. And the torture policy. I don't see how someone could arbitrarily judge a person based on who they are in love with, and at the same time think it's okay to beat a prisoner to the point of organ failure. But, maybe I'm not that smart.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
hard to believe, I might be on TV
Yesterday I arrived back in Denver completely exhausted from my trip, and work, thinking about my court date that was supposed to be on 1 June that I was going to cancel because the fucking stupid shit for brains asspipe pathetic excuse for a human who hit my car (Kandy Schertz) couldn't be served with papers because she's a lying bitch who avoided the sheriff and then moved out of her apartment. The private investigator that tried to help me find her could only get me her parents' contact information.
I was thinking to just give up on the lawsuit. It seemed hopeless. Even if I could find the stupid bitch I wasn't sure I could get her into court in time for the year deadline I have to sue her (which will be September of this year). I was thinking to myself "unless something completely insane happens, I may just drop the lawsuit".
I got home, and of course, something insane happened. I received a letter about my lawsuit, which I assumed was from a law firm specializing in these kinds of cases. I called the number on the letter thinking I could wrangle some free advice from them.
The conversation went something like this:
me: Hey, I got a letter from you and was wondering if you could help with my lawsuit.
person: Of course, that's why we sent you the letter.
me: So, how much do you charge for legal advice? Because I think I only need to talk to a lawyer for about 15 minutes. It's an easy case but I can't find the defendant and am unsure how to proceed.
person: Uh, legal advice?
me: Yeah, um, aren't you guys a law firm or something?
person: Uh, no. This is a TV show. The People's Court.
me: This is a Denver show?
person: No. People's Court has been on TV for 24 years. It's on national TV. Haven't you ever seen it?
me: I don't have a TV. I thought I was calling a law office.
person: (stifled laugh) In all my years doing this, I've never heard that one before.
Anyway, I told the person who answered the phone my story, and she took all the information I had about Kandy and said the show would try to track her down. I don't know why they picked my law suit. Maybe the whole "Franki vs. Kandy" or maybe someone from the show reads my blog. They are supposed to call me back to let me know if they can find Kandy. See letter below:
So today I took the letter down to the court house to get an extension on my court date. Everyone thought it was cool that I might get to be on TV. Then I got a GREAT admin, Gloria, who patiently listened to my story. I told her I was worried I couldn't find Kandy before the year was up that I can sue under Colorado state law.
She arranged for me to meet with the small claims court judge. I gave a passionate speech about how it was wrong that Kandy should walk away with no punishment after causing an accident. I'm not sure what else I said. I was talking really fast. Anyway, the small claims court judge agreed to suspend my case indefinitely until I can track this bitch down. She also gave me a letter I could take to the post office to see if I can find Kandy's forwarding address. And she said I could serve Kandy with papers through the mail if that was the only option (if, for example, she's moved out of state). Normally you have to go to the court in person to set a date, but when I explained my travel situation to the judge she said I could just do it over the phone.
And she said I would be a good lawyer.
So, I'm back on the war path now. And I think I'm going to write an article about this whole experience and submit it to the paper or 5028.
I can't help but think, because I spent the weekend helping out my brother, that some good karma has come back to me.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
skip
On Sunday, after lunch, Neil and I headed up to the Bachenheimer compound for drinks, and ended up staying for dinner, because Dan put out a bunch of my favorite fruits and cheeses, and then we had lamb chops (little ones), asparagus, and corn. It was great.
Dan also decanted some excellent wines from his and Eva's trip to Sonoma. We sat outside since the evening was nice, and after two glasses of wine Eva was like "hey Franki, why don't you show Neil how you can skip?"
Skipping, or my inability to skip, is perhaps one of my greatest failings as a person. I don't know why, but I can't do it. I always mean to do it right but I can't seem to take just one foot off the ground so I end up just jumping around. Which is weird because when I ski and am supposed to have both feet on the ground, I can't.
Neil tried to teach me how to skip as Eva stood on the driveway having a giggle fit. Occasionally she would skip by me just to make me feel bad. Attached is a picture that Dan took of Neil skipping and then me skipping.
And no, I can't skip even when I'm not drinking.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
where are my pink ladies?
I've been to every grocery store in an over 50 mile radius of where I'm staying out here in DC trying to find pink ladies. None were to be had. So instead I bought some bags of baby carrots.
First, I found out they aren't really "babies" at all. This whole time I thought I was eating the veal of vegetables. But a student told me that in fact baby carrots are just carrots that are too ugly to sell, so they cut them down. I doubted the story at the outset (I've had students lie to me about numerous things regarding the performance of the software I teach; I've also had students sign me up for dating services and enter my business card in "free weekend in Aspen" giveaways and I was once subjected to my entire class singing the theme of the love boat because I've never seen the show and they were making fun of me saying I was like one of the characters who I think died recently of a cocaine overdose) but when I looked at the package it did say "baby cut" though "cut" was written in small print.
I also found it funny that, under ingredients, it said "carrots". Somehow, knowing they are not in fact new, young carrots, they don't taste as good.
Anyway, I accidentally ate a whole bag of baby carrots today. I could say it was one of the small bags, but I would be lying. Around 230, in the middle of class, after I stuffed the last carrot in my mouth, I got the hiccups. And they wouldn't stop. The guy who's class I was taking was getting annoyed. I still have the hiccups but I'm drinking wine in the hopes that will help. Besides getting the hiccups I also discovered that my company badge was covered with cookie goo. Probably should not have let my nephew wear it yesterday when we were eating cookies. I leaned over one of the students to help him and he was like "grossssssssss! what is that?????" and I was like "it's just (hic) a cookie (hic)".
Ech.
I wonder if I'm allergic to carrots...
First, I found out they aren't really "babies" at all. This whole time I thought I was eating the veal of vegetables. But a student told me that in fact baby carrots are just carrots that are too ugly to sell, so they cut them down. I doubted the story at the outset (I've had students lie to me about numerous things regarding the performance of the software I teach; I've also had students sign me up for dating services and enter my business card in "free weekend in Aspen" giveaways and I was once subjected to my entire class singing the theme of the love boat because I've never seen the show and they were making fun of me saying I was like one of the characters who I think died recently of a cocaine overdose) but when I looked at the package it did say "baby cut" though "cut" was written in small print.
I also found it funny that, under ingredients, it said "carrots". Somehow, knowing they are not in fact new, young carrots, they don't taste as good.
Anyway, I accidentally ate a whole bag of baby carrots today. I could say it was one of the small bags, but I would be lying. Around 230, in the middle of class, after I stuffed the last carrot in my mouth, I got the hiccups. And they wouldn't stop. The guy who's class I was taking was getting annoyed. I still have the hiccups but I'm drinking wine in the hopes that will help. Besides getting the hiccups I also discovered that my company badge was covered with cookie goo. Probably should not have let my nephew wear it yesterday when we were eating cookies. I leaned over one of the students to help him and he was like "grossssssssss! what is that?????" and I was like "it's just (hic) a cookie (hic)".
Ech.
I wonder if I'm allergic to carrots...
Monday, May 25, 2009
Neil's Reveal (the blow job secret)
I went to lunch with my friend Neilski yesterday in historic Leesburg. We went to this cool restaurant called lightfoot's that used to be a bank.
While we were eating lunch Neil was telling me about this crazy woman he worked with. He said she wasn't very attractive or nice, but she got Neil's friend to marry her. Then, after they got married, she was always hitting on other men and trying to get them to have sex with her. She would do this in front of her husband.
The guy gang that Neil hung out with all thought this woman was crap, but, Neil's friend Howie ended up going on a trip with her (she invented a reason she had to go with him). Somehow they ended up in Howie's hotel and the woman was trying to get him to fuck her. Howie refused to fuck her, since she was a good friend's wife (and, probably because she wasn't very attractive) but then Neil told me "Howie finally let her give him a blow job so she would leave his room".
I thought it was funny that Howie said that he didn't have sex with this woman, but that he let her give him a blow job. I can think of two guys who have used this excuse with me, and then, well, there's Bill Clinton.
I started to wonder why that might be...I guess if a guy isn't looking at you or making any physical contact with you it's okay in his mind to come in your mouth. From a female perspective that seems a little strange. If I had a penis I don't think I would go around sticking it into places with sharp objects. Guys aren't that smart or maybe they're just careless. Personally, I wouldn't let some guy anywhere near my clit under circumstances like that.
Then I started thinking if a guy ever asks me for a blow job, I'm going to question his motives. Does he want a blow job just to get off, or does he like me? Then I started thinking about how, if I don't want to have sex, I always find it easier to give a guy a blow job than to have him poking at me demanding I pay attention to his penis.
In any case, girls out there reading, beware of giving guys a blow job. Thanks for ruining that for guys, Neil!
While we were eating lunch Neil was telling me about this crazy woman he worked with. He said she wasn't very attractive or nice, but she got Neil's friend to marry her. Then, after they got married, she was always hitting on other men and trying to get them to have sex with her. She would do this in front of her husband.
The guy gang that Neil hung out with all thought this woman was crap, but, Neil's friend Howie ended up going on a trip with her (she invented a reason she had to go with him). Somehow they ended up in Howie's hotel and the woman was trying to get him to fuck her. Howie refused to fuck her, since she was a good friend's wife (and, probably because she wasn't very attractive) but then Neil told me "Howie finally let her give him a blow job so she would leave his room".
I thought it was funny that Howie said that he didn't have sex with this woman, but that he let her give him a blow job. I can think of two guys who have used this excuse with me, and then, well, there's Bill Clinton.
I started to wonder why that might be...I guess if a guy isn't looking at you or making any physical contact with you it's okay in his mind to come in your mouth. From a female perspective that seems a little strange. If I had a penis I don't think I would go around sticking it into places with sharp objects. Guys aren't that smart or maybe they're just careless. Personally, I wouldn't let some guy anywhere near my clit under circumstances like that.
Then I started thinking if a guy ever asks me for a blow job, I'm going to question his motives. Does he want a blow job just to get off, or does he like me? Then I started thinking about how, if I don't want to have sex, I always find it easier to give a guy a blow job than to have him poking at me demanding I pay attention to his penis.
In any case, girls out there reading, beware of giving guys a blow job. Thanks for ruining that for guys, Neil!
Friday, May 22, 2009
paint vs. stain
This guy who's new to selling the software product I support sent me an email last week asking to audit my class. I was like sure, what's one more rabble rouser.
I'm glad he came to my class. I'll call him S. S is from Lebanon, so right away we had a lot to talk about because I am fascinated by the middle east. I didn't even rip his head off too badly when he started dissing the jews (I just saw a documentary about the golan heights, yeah, I kind of see some of his points). S took me to dinner for helping him and we had many interesting discussions over the course of the evening. It's funny that we were looking for a bar to go to and we both wanted to find a place quiet enough to talk. That's not my usual MO for people I'm hanging out with. I usually don't talk much at all when I go out.
I found out how S met his wife. We discussed persian music, babies (he has a three year old), what he thinks is wrong with me (he has a minor in psychology), middle east politics, political prisoners, torture, enterprise architecture, wines, how to illegally ship a laptop over seas, Greece, diving, bungee jumping, and our favorite place to vacation (Lebanon for him, Turkey for me).
Then I started thinking about how I never go out (S said that's kind of fucked up, but, given my track record, I think the world is safer when I'm at home). But I don't go out that much because I feel weird. With S I was comfortable. We could get into a political argument (he started defending the palestinians and I was like don't EVEN go there with me) and it was fine. We had a conversation about ideas instead of the usual gossip. I was reminiscing about Greece, and he was reminiscing about coming to the US and ending up in, of all places, fucking Nebraska, and having drinking buddies there, and he said to me "A true friend sees you through hard times when you are down. Most of friends are not like that". I was thinking about chemo days and I said "Friendships, for the most part, are like paint. They chip with wear and tear. Most of my friendships are like stain. They'll always be there."
The next day, when I got to my classroom, S had done research at my company (he's worked there for 10 years) on how I can publish a book and get my company to pay for it. He contacted people he knows to inquire about the best way for me to write a technical book, and what the best topics would be. In turn, I had made him a CD of my favorite middle eastern music (I was disappointed to discover that some of it was religious).
Anyway, when I'm in Florida I am going to meet his wife and kid. On tuesday I'm introducing him to some consultants that can help him out. I wish every work relationship was like this. We're helping each other instead of trying to stab each other in the back to make a buck.
There was no point to this blog. I'm just waxing philosophical while getting drunk.
I'm glad he came to my class. I'll call him S. S is from Lebanon, so right away we had a lot to talk about because I am fascinated by the middle east. I didn't even rip his head off too badly when he started dissing the jews (I just saw a documentary about the golan heights, yeah, I kind of see some of his points). S took me to dinner for helping him and we had many interesting discussions over the course of the evening. It's funny that we were looking for a bar to go to and we both wanted to find a place quiet enough to talk. That's not my usual MO for people I'm hanging out with. I usually don't talk much at all when I go out.
I found out how S met his wife. We discussed persian music, babies (he has a three year old), what he thinks is wrong with me (he has a minor in psychology), middle east politics, political prisoners, torture, enterprise architecture, wines, how to illegally ship a laptop over seas, Greece, diving, bungee jumping, and our favorite place to vacation (Lebanon for him, Turkey for me).
Then I started thinking about how I never go out (S said that's kind of fucked up, but, given my track record, I think the world is safer when I'm at home). But I don't go out that much because I feel weird. With S I was comfortable. We could get into a political argument (he started defending the palestinians and I was like don't EVEN go there with me) and it was fine. We had a conversation about ideas instead of the usual gossip. I was reminiscing about Greece, and he was reminiscing about coming to the US and ending up in, of all places, fucking Nebraska, and having drinking buddies there, and he said to me "A true friend sees you through hard times when you are down. Most of friends are not like that". I was thinking about chemo days and I said "Friendships, for the most part, are like paint. They chip with wear and tear. Most of my friendships are like stain. They'll always be there."
The next day, when I got to my classroom, S had done research at my company (he's worked there for 10 years) on how I can publish a book and get my company to pay for it. He contacted people he knows to inquire about the best way for me to write a technical book, and what the best topics would be. In turn, I had made him a CD of my favorite middle eastern music (I was disappointed to discover that some of it was religious).
Anyway, when I'm in Florida I am going to meet his wife and kid. On tuesday I'm introducing him to some consultants that can help him out. I wish every work relationship was like this. We're helping each other instead of trying to stab each other in the back to make a buck.
There was no point to this blog. I'm just waxing philosophical while getting drunk.
dumb ass
People who forgot today is my birthday:
me
my mom, who is supposed to keep track of this stuff for me so I don't have to worry about it (hell, if I pushed 5 pounds or whatever I weighed (I was a preemie) out of my vagina, I think I would remember that day forever)
People who remembered (in order of appearance):
My co-author (hbd via Bob Dylan)
Trina (thanks for the ghetto bday wishes!!! that was the funniest text ever)
Glen-ski, my best friend from high school, how he remembers shit after all this time I don't know (sorry I made fun of you in NYC)
my brother Bob, who never remembers anything, including his own birthday (maybe because I just spent my birthday evening painting his house his brain did that thing where it actually thinks)
my old boss Barry (who called me two days ago to wish me hbd, and then called me today because he realized he called the wrong day, I actually feel guilty now that I purposely got the idiot admins on our project to put his name as "Berry" on all of his award plaques)
my sister's husband (though I suspect he was really calling me about the dogs, since I'm watching them this weekend)
my dad, who can't remember his birthday either (this could be a genetic thing, perhaps someone would like to do a scientific study on my family) - in fact, not only did he remember my birthday, but he also sent me a jewish cookbook (he said the recipes looked "easy" and I was like okay dude, you can cook one when you come visit me and he was like fuck that, we're going to order out) and a book on sharks (every shark in this illustrated masterpiece is shown ripping a hand or leg off of some unsuspecting swimmer)
Felty, the mail man stalker, who's question prompted this email
me
my mom, who is supposed to keep track of this stuff for me so I don't have to worry about it (hell, if I pushed 5 pounds or whatever I weighed (I was a preemie) out of my vagina, I think I would remember that day forever)
People who remembered (in order of appearance):
My co-author (hbd via Bob Dylan)
Trina (thanks for the ghetto bday wishes!!! that was the funniest text ever)
Glen-ski, my best friend from high school, how he remembers shit after all this time I don't know (sorry I made fun of you in NYC)
my brother Bob, who never remembers anything, including his own birthday (maybe because I just spent my birthday evening painting his house his brain did that thing where it actually thinks)
my old boss Barry (who called me two days ago to wish me hbd, and then called me today because he realized he called the wrong day, I actually feel guilty now that I purposely got the idiot admins on our project to put his name as "Berry" on all of his award plaques)
my sister's husband (though I suspect he was really calling me about the dogs, since I'm watching them this weekend)
my dad, who can't remember his birthday either (this could be a genetic thing, perhaps someone would like to do a scientific study on my family) - in fact, not only did he remember my birthday, but he also sent me a jewish cookbook (he said the recipes looked "easy" and I was like okay dude, you can cook one when you come visit me and he was like fuck that, we're going to order out) and a book on sharks (every shark in this illustrated masterpiece is shown ripping a hand or leg off of some unsuspecting swimmer)
Felty, the mail man stalker, who's question prompted this email
Sunday, May 17, 2009
tagged
Friday around 530 I went for a bike ride. I had the week from hell and figured it was time to stop working and get outside.
When I got back some little fucking fuck of a fuck tagged my garage door (and two others in my alley). It wasn't even a cool tag. It was the initials "DK" scrawled obviously by a little kid (judging from the height). I was fucking PISSED. On top of everything ELSE I had to do this weekend I now had to take care of that.
I went to home depot Saturday and this really nice guy greeted me at the door. I asked if they had something to remove graffiti. The guy showed me this spray and we chatted about this fucking kids tagging our houses. He has gotten the same tag that I had on the side of his house. I told him if I caught the kid I was going to break his fucking spray finger. The guy laughed and then said to call him because he was going to kick the kid in the nuts.
I got home and decided to start my other little project before I cleaned the graffiti, mostly because I realized I didn't have any paint to touch up my garage door. I lent it to my next door neighbor before he moved and the fucker never gave it back. My other project was to sand down and restain this lingerie chest I have in my room. I've been meaning to do it forever but just got around to it.
That project ended up being a disaster. I realized someone (likely my ex-boyfriend) took my sander (I don't blame him randomly, he took almost all of my screwdrivers, which were new) so I had to get another one. Then I got this stain with polyurethane in it that sucked. I called my friend Neil and texted my co-worker Jamie to find out why the stain wasn't sticking. Neil told me to resand, get a new stain, and start again, which I did, and now the lingerie chest looks just like I wanted it to.
Back to the graffiti, I opened my garage door and started to read the directions on the graffiti cleaner. This guy walked up to me and said his name was Robert. He's worked for the city of Denver for 18 years, building and rebuilding low income housing. He was the NICEST guy and he helped me clean my garage door (maybe he was afraid of a girl with a spray paint can). His house gets tagged all of the time too and he said he wakes up at random hours of the night to try to catch the kids, but he hasn't yet. He lives in this big, really nice Victorian a few streets over. It's all white so the kids are constantly tagging his walls.
Then this guy who lives behind me, whom I've never met before, but I see him when I'm riding my bike, came over and said "I just wanted you to know that I didn't do that and my brothers didn't do that". He has three younger brothers that I some times talk to when I'm out walking.
We talked about the graffiti problem for a while, and the guy who lives behind me said he would try to find out who's doing it. I said "bring the kid to me, I'll have him arrested". The guy said "How about if I just beat him up instead?" I was like hmm. Then I said no, because even though I like the idea right now of him getting beat up, if it really happened I would feel bad.
Kind of funny how nice everyone in the neighborhood was about my tagged garage. I was just thinking today that I wished we all talked more, and not just when something bad happens...
When I got back some little fucking fuck of a fuck tagged my garage door (and two others in my alley). It wasn't even a cool tag. It was the initials "DK" scrawled obviously by a little kid (judging from the height). I was fucking PISSED. On top of everything ELSE I had to do this weekend I now had to take care of that.
I went to home depot Saturday and this really nice guy greeted me at the door. I asked if they had something to remove graffiti. The guy showed me this spray and we chatted about this fucking kids tagging our houses. He has gotten the same tag that I had on the side of his house. I told him if I caught the kid I was going to break his fucking spray finger. The guy laughed and then said to call him because he was going to kick the kid in the nuts.
I got home and decided to start my other little project before I cleaned the graffiti, mostly because I realized I didn't have any paint to touch up my garage door. I lent it to my next door neighbor before he moved and the fucker never gave it back. My other project was to sand down and restain this lingerie chest I have in my room. I've been meaning to do it forever but just got around to it.
That project ended up being a disaster. I realized someone (likely my ex-boyfriend) took my sander (I don't blame him randomly, he took almost all of my screwdrivers, which were new) so I had to get another one. Then I got this stain with polyurethane in it that sucked. I called my friend Neil and texted my co-worker Jamie to find out why the stain wasn't sticking. Neil told me to resand, get a new stain, and start again, which I did, and now the lingerie chest looks just like I wanted it to.
Back to the graffiti, I opened my garage door and started to read the directions on the graffiti cleaner. This guy walked up to me and said his name was Robert. He's worked for the city of Denver for 18 years, building and rebuilding low income housing. He was the NICEST guy and he helped me clean my garage door (maybe he was afraid of a girl with a spray paint can). His house gets tagged all of the time too and he said he wakes up at random hours of the night to try to catch the kids, but he hasn't yet. He lives in this big, really nice Victorian a few streets over. It's all white so the kids are constantly tagging his walls.
Then this guy who lives behind me, whom I've never met before, but I see him when I'm riding my bike, came over and said "I just wanted you to know that I didn't do that and my brothers didn't do that". He has three younger brothers that I some times talk to when I'm out walking.
We talked about the graffiti problem for a while, and the guy who lives behind me said he would try to find out who's doing it. I said "bring the kid to me, I'll have him arrested". The guy said "How about if I just beat him up instead?" I was like hmm. Then I said no, because even though I like the idea right now of him getting beat up, if it really happened I would feel bad.
Kind of funny how nice everyone in the neighborhood was about my tagged garage. I was just thinking today that I wished we all talked more, and not just when something bad happens...
Saturday, May 16, 2009
another word on torture
Someone posted a comment to my blog that not torturing people puts our military at greater risk.
Wrong.
It does NOT put them at greater risk. They are at greater risk BECAUSE we torture. Whatever we do to another country, how can we condemn them if they do the same to OUR military? John McCain has said torture doesn't work. He should fucking know. Robert Baer said it doesn't work. CIA for 25 years, I think he's a better source of information that most of the idiots out there. The bottom line is that we need to improve intelligence at the outset instead of waiting to capture some one to find out what's going on (and, by torturing them, we are getting incorrect information, read the fucking studies).
Until congress forces the different agencies to work better together, and until our intell community returns to HUMINT instead of relying on technology to gather information, things won't get better. But, you can see how stupid we are about these things. We put people at the airport to screen for terrorists instead of spending that money trying to find them BEFORE they buy a plane ticket.
Back in I think it was 1995 Clinton signed a bill that said the intell community could no longer recruit people who had a criminal record. That has to be one of the STUPIDEST decisions ever made. Who do YOU want as a source of information? A little old lady who's never done anything, or a woman who has worked with criminals and knows what they are doing? The problem was confounded by agency directors who put more money into technology than boots on the ground. Would it have been easy to find out about the 911 plot? No, but could it have been done? YES. There are MANY books out there about the intell failure that led to 911, and they are based on what's been declassified. I'm sure there's even more stuff out there pointing to the intell communities' failure.
And here's another thing to think about...torture assumes the person captured is guilty without any due process to determine guilt. That is TOTALLY against the way america is supposed to work. How would YOU feel if a member of your family was captured by the Saudi government, for standing on a street corner in let's say Istanbul, on vacation. The Saudis' took that member of your family and you had no idea where they were. Your family member was gone for 5 years. The whole time the government was torturing him or her.
Would you be like "oh, that's okay, they were doing it for protection"?
And if you have a loved one in Iraq, how do you feel about the fact that they would be treated equally to how we've treated prisoners? Would you be okay with that, water boarding, beating to the point of organ failure, sensory deprivation? Or would you at that point want to invoke the geneva convention?
If we don't believe that every human being is equal, we have lost our humanity. The fact that someone is an insurgent in Iraq does not make them any less of a human being than we are. If we can't treat them with respect that should be accorded to anyone with a soul, we should not call ourselves religious, or believers in god.
We should call ourselves inhuman because that's how we are behaving. And the fact that we have imprisoned innocent people, and tortured them, is going to have blowback. If you don't believe that you know nothing about history or the middle east.
Wrong.
It does NOT put them at greater risk. They are at greater risk BECAUSE we torture. Whatever we do to another country, how can we condemn them if they do the same to OUR military? John McCain has said torture doesn't work. He should fucking know. Robert Baer said it doesn't work. CIA for 25 years, I think he's a better source of information that most of the idiots out there. The bottom line is that we need to improve intelligence at the outset instead of waiting to capture some one to find out what's going on (and, by torturing them, we are getting incorrect information, read the fucking studies).
Until congress forces the different agencies to work better together, and until our intell community returns to HUMINT instead of relying on technology to gather information, things won't get better. But, you can see how stupid we are about these things. We put people at the airport to screen for terrorists instead of spending that money trying to find them BEFORE they buy a plane ticket.
Back in I think it was 1995 Clinton signed a bill that said the intell community could no longer recruit people who had a criminal record. That has to be one of the STUPIDEST decisions ever made. Who do YOU want as a source of information? A little old lady who's never done anything, or a woman who has worked with criminals and knows what they are doing? The problem was confounded by agency directors who put more money into technology than boots on the ground. Would it have been easy to find out about the 911 plot? No, but could it have been done? YES. There are MANY books out there about the intell failure that led to 911, and they are based on what's been declassified. I'm sure there's even more stuff out there pointing to the intell communities' failure.
And here's another thing to think about...torture assumes the person captured is guilty without any due process to determine guilt. That is TOTALLY against the way america is supposed to work. How would YOU feel if a member of your family was captured by the Saudi government, for standing on a street corner in let's say Istanbul, on vacation. The Saudis' took that member of your family and you had no idea where they were. Your family member was gone for 5 years. The whole time the government was torturing him or her.
Would you be like "oh, that's okay, they were doing it for protection"?
And if you have a loved one in Iraq, how do you feel about the fact that they would be treated equally to how we've treated prisoners? Would you be okay with that, water boarding, beating to the point of organ failure, sensory deprivation? Or would you at that point want to invoke the geneva convention?
If we don't believe that every human being is equal, we have lost our humanity. The fact that someone is an insurgent in Iraq does not make them any less of a human being than we are. If we can't treat them with respect that should be accorded to anyone with a soul, we should not call ourselves religious, or believers in god.
We should call ourselves inhuman because that's how we are behaving. And the fact that we have imprisoned innocent people, and tortured them, is going to have blowback. If you don't believe that you know nothing about history or the middle east.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
a word on torture
Yesterday when I was running an errand, I caught talk of the nation on NPR. Neil Conan was interviewing Robert Baer and Ted Koppel about torture, and whether it should be legal. If you care at all about this issue, I recommend a listen: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=104021713
I was horrified to hear most of the idiots who called into the show that said it was okay to torture people. Robert Baer, who worked for the CIA, said he has never, ever in his career encountered a situation where torture was necessary. He cited examples of countries that torture (us, Saudi Arabia, Egypt, yeah, we're in great company) and said that they consistently have bad intell, where as countries that don't torture (he cited Jordan as an example) get good intell.
Ted brought up the whole "bus is going to blow up, you have to get the location of the bomb immediately" situation, and Robert Baer said those types of situations rarely, rarely if ever happen, and should not be grounds for having a law that says torture is legal.
I won't go too much into a tirade on this, but I read a quote that I thought was very profound about torture. It's in this week's issue of the new yorker, in an article by Philip Gourevitch, where he says:
"Former Vice President Dick Cheney has said that we must torture because it is effective*. That is at best, a false argument: a crime is not absolved because it works. (After all, terrorism can be effective.)"
I also would like to point out to any conservatives reading this that the problem stems from the intell community. If they did a better job doing their jobs, we wouldn't need to torture people. 9/11 didn't happen because we failed to torture people. 9/11 happened because the disparate intell agencies weren't sharing and acting on intell. Why wait until a crime is about to be committed to have to hurry up and torture someone? Why not be fucking on top of the problem BEFORE it becomes a problem?
Bush set up the DNI but that has just created another level of bureaucracy and its only purpose was to give bush intell analyzed to support whatever bush was doing. And nothing has changed in the intell community since 9/11. There are still information stove pipes, people who won't work together, and idiots who would rather go home on time than do their fucking jobs. Because, I guess they figure we can torture people and find out by being a bully what they were too stupid to figure out using their brains.
Anyway, it's something that has been weighing on my mind. This concludes the tirade on torture.
*and the idea that torture is effective has been mis-proven so many times in so many studies I assume the only reason that assumption still exists is because the idiots on Fox news are reporting their usual incorrect information
I was horrified to hear most of the idiots who called into the show that said it was okay to torture people. Robert Baer, who worked for the CIA, said he has never, ever in his career encountered a situation where torture was necessary. He cited examples of countries that torture (us, Saudi Arabia, Egypt, yeah, we're in great company) and said that they consistently have bad intell, where as countries that don't torture (he cited Jordan as an example) get good intell.
Ted brought up the whole "bus is going to blow up, you have to get the location of the bomb immediately" situation, and Robert Baer said those types of situations rarely, rarely if ever happen, and should not be grounds for having a law that says torture is legal.
I won't go too much into a tirade on this, but I read a quote that I thought was very profound about torture. It's in this week's issue of the new yorker, in an article by Philip Gourevitch, where he says:
"Former Vice President Dick Cheney has said that we must torture because it is effective*. That is at best, a false argument: a crime is not absolved because it works. (After all, terrorism can be effective.)"
I also would like to point out to any conservatives reading this that the problem stems from the intell community. If they did a better job doing their jobs, we wouldn't need to torture people. 9/11 didn't happen because we failed to torture people. 9/11 happened because the disparate intell agencies weren't sharing and acting on intell. Why wait until a crime is about to be committed to have to hurry up and torture someone? Why not be fucking on top of the problem BEFORE it becomes a problem?
Bush set up the DNI but that has just created another level of bureaucracy and its only purpose was to give bush intell analyzed to support whatever bush was doing. And nothing has changed in the intell community since 9/11. There are still information stove pipes, people who won't work together, and idiots who would rather go home on time than do their fucking jobs. Because, I guess they figure we can torture people and find out by being a bully what they were too stupid to figure out using their brains.
Anyway, it's something that has been weighing on my mind. This concludes the tirade on torture.
*and the idea that torture is effective has been mis-proven so many times in so many studies I assume the only reason that assumption still exists is because the idiots on Fox news are reporting their usual incorrect information
eldo practice epic
Dr. Jay and I went climbing at Eldo yesterday afternoon after my million billion conference calls, which started at 5 am, were over.
We decided to climb something on the wall that's across from the Bastille. I forget what the name of our route was. It was supposed to be a fun little multi-pitch climb.
We got to the bolts at the top of the first pitch, and then decided to do the second pitch even though Jay had never climbed it before. We got to the top of the second pitch and realized there were no bolts or slings to rap from. So we free climbed what might have been the third pitch of the climb because it seemed like roping up at that point was just a waste of time. The pitch was only about 50 feet.
At the top of that, we still couldn't find any bolts or slings. Also, there was no way to walk off. By this time, I was in some serious pain. I have been walking around in flip flops so I have blisters all over my feet. Not so much fun to walk around in tight climbing shoes. Plus, I was getting worried. Twice before I've ended up in the same situation at Eldo (with two different climbers) and remembered both situations ending with a long walk in climbing shoes from where we rapped down to where we had left our packs. My feet were muttering "I am SO not happy about this AT ALL" and I was like "quit your bitching or I'll send you back to China".
The sun luckily was not going down as fast as I was worried it would. I was convinced that Jay, who's been climbing in Eldo for years, would figure something out. That something involved downclimbing a very steep and scary rock section to this tree. Jay was standing on the base of the tree, with about a 200 foot fall right in front of him. I started to get nervous and asked him to sling the tree and clip in. Then I down climbed the section. I could tell Jay was nervous that I was going to fall. I had images of me falling, landing on Jay, and the two of us ripping the tree out by its roots and all of us tumbling down the cliff. That made me laugh and I felt less nervous.
Jay slung the rope around the tree and rapped down first, with the assumption that he would find a ledge or bolts and we would be able to get down. Luckily less than 100 feet down there was indeed a ledge that we could use to walk off the cliff. I was hugely relieved. I rapped down and then started to pull the rope. The bastard got almost all of the way down when it decided to lodge itself in a little hook on the rock. I was like fucking great. I hung off the rope with all my body weight and it didn't move. Jay tried to yank it too, but it was lodged tight.
Jay started moving around to different areas on the ledge to see if he could dislodge it. The rope wouldn't budge. I did have one moment where my heart almost stopped because Jay was leaning backwards off the ledge, with about 100 feet of air at least between his current position and the deck, and suddenly the rope twinged. If the rope had dislodged Jay would have gone flying off the cliff. I was like please do NOT do that again! Jay just laughed.
Dr. Jay ended up climbing up this kind of scary looking route to get the rope down. I kept telling him that I would rather leave the rope and buy a new one than risk something bad happening, but Jay seemed to be enjoying the danger. I gave up and let him do what he wanted, which was to get the rope down. Luckily he didn't have to climb up too far to get it and was able to rap down off of yet another strategically placed tree. I was very relieved when he finally got back to the ledge. As he was pulling the rope again we were joking about it getting caught again. But, it didn't.
I hobbled, and Jay walked, back to our packs, and I finally took off my climbing shoes. I had a blister the size of a quarter on the bottom middle of my left foot that was completely filled with fluid. It had so much fluid in it that when I finally drained it (for the record, Dr. Jay told me to drain it) all this water shot out and made a wet spot on my carpet. It was kind of gross, but at the same time fun. Also, a chunk of one of my toenails that has been loose for a while got caught on a seam in my climbing shoe and broke off. I'm so bummed because I was going to paint pink them this weekend, and there isn't enough toenail left on that toe to paint.
When we got back to Dr. Jay's car we were talking about how climbing is a great engineering problem, and how it's kind of fun to have practice epics so you can do some problem solving when your life isn't on the line and you are just inconvenienced. I also think we did a good job of solving problems as a team. I was like "Jay, can you fix that" and he fixed it.
On the drive home I asked Dr. Jay if he was going to get mad if I wrote a blog about the climb. He laughed and said he wouldn't, but then said he was going to write corrections if I exaggerated anything. So I did my best to not exaggerate. I probably got some stuff wrong anyway. Stand by for Dr. Jay's corrections...
We decided to climb something on the wall that's across from the Bastille. I forget what the name of our route was. It was supposed to be a fun little multi-pitch climb.
We got to the bolts at the top of the first pitch, and then decided to do the second pitch even though Jay had never climbed it before. We got to the top of the second pitch and realized there were no bolts or slings to rap from. So we free climbed what might have been the third pitch of the climb because it seemed like roping up at that point was just a waste of time. The pitch was only about 50 feet.
At the top of that, we still couldn't find any bolts or slings. Also, there was no way to walk off. By this time, I was in some serious pain. I have been walking around in flip flops so I have blisters all over my feet. Not so much fun to walk around in tight climbing shoes. Plus, I was getting worried. Twice before I've ended up in the same situation at Eldo (with two different climbers) and remembered both situations ending with a long walk in climbing shoes from where we rapped down to where we had left our packs. My feet were muttering "I am SO not happy about this AT ALL" and I was like "quit your bitching or I'll send you back to China".
The sun luckily was not going down as fast as I was worried it would. I was convinced that Jay, who's been climbing in Eldo for years, would figure something out. That something involved downclimbing a very steep and scary rock section to this tree. Jay was standing on the base of the tree, with about a 200 foot fall right in front of him. I started to get nervous and asked him to sling the tree and clip in. Then I down climbed the section. I could tell Jay was nervous that I was going to fall. I had images of me falling, landing on Jay, and the two of us ripping the tree out by its roots and all of us tumbling down the cliff. That made me laugh and I felt less nervous.
Jay slung the rope around the tree and rapped down first, with the assumption that he would find a ledge or bolts and we would be able to get down. Luckily less than 100 feet down there was indeed a ledge that we could use to walk off the cliff. I was hugely relieved. I rapped down and then started to pull the rope. The bastard got almost all of the way down when it decided to lodge itself in a little hook on the rock. I was like fucking great. I hung off the rope with all my body weight and it didn't move. Jay tried to yank it too, but it was lodged tight.
Jay started moving around to different areas on the ledge to see if he could dislodge it. The rope wouldn't budge. I did have one moment where my heart almost stopped because Jay was leaning backwards off the ledge, with about 100 feet of air at least between his current position and the deck, and suddenly the rope twinged. If the rope had dislodged Jay would have gone flying off the cliff. I was like please do NOT do that again! Jay just laughed.
Dr. Jay ended up climbing up this kind of scary looking route to get the rope down. I kept telling him that I would rather leave the rope and buy a new one than risk something bad happening, but Jay seemed to be enjoying the danger. I gave up and let him do what he wanted, which was to get the rope down. Luckily he didn't have to climb up too far to get it and was able to rap down off of yet another strategically placed tree. I was very relieved when he finally got back to the ledge. As he was pulling the rope again we were joking about it getting caught again. But, it didn't.
I hobbled, and Jay walked, back to our packs, and I finally took off my climbing shoes. I had a blister the size of a quarter on the bottom middle of my left foot that was completely filled with fluid. It had so much fluid in it that when I finally drained it (for the record, Dr. Jay told me to drain it) all this water shot out and made a wet spot on my carpet. It was kind of gross, but at the same time fun. Also, a chunk of one of my toenails that has been loose for a while got caught on a seam in my climbing shoe and broke off. I'm so bummed because I was going to paint pink them this weekend, and there isn't enough toenail left on that toe to paint.
When we got back to Dr. Jay's car we were talking about how climbing is a great engineering problem, and how it's kind of fun to have practice epics so you can do some problem solving when your life isn't on the line and you are just inconvenienced. I also think we did a good job of solving problems as a team. I was like "Jay, can you fix that" and he fixed it.
On the drive home I asked Dr. Jay if he was going to get mad if I wrote a blog about the climb. He laughed and said he wouldn't, but then said he was going to write corrections if I exaggerated anything. So I did my best to not exaggerate. I probably got some stuff wrong anyway. Stand by for Dr. Jay's corrections...
Monday, May 11, 2009
the bad building
Last night I had a dream that I was supposed to be presenting at a meeting, and I was in this huge building that looked like a Vegas casino. I was trying to find the elevators to get to my meeting but I couldn't. Then some guy said "you have to push the blue circle" and I saw this blue circle on the wall and pushed it. The wall broke apart into two curved pieces and there was this metal box thing that was the elevator.
I asked the guy how to get to the floor I needed and he said "the elevator only goes to one place". So I took it, got off when it stopped, and ended up wandering around in this maze of conference rooms. None of them were the room I was supposed to go to.
I ended up getting into and getting out of about 10 different elevators trying to find the room I needed. Every time the elevator would go down it felt like free fall, and one time I was riding the elevator down there was a 10 year old kid in there with me and he started crying because he thought he was going to die when the elevator crashed. I kept explaining to him that elevators are safe but he wouldn't listen to me.
Finally I decided to call my client to get exact directions on where the meeting was supposed to be. But my blackberry wasn't working in the building. I tried to find a door to get outside but I couldn't. Then I came to a bar and a bunch of people I used to know in Maryland were sitting there drinking. I asked if they knew where I was supposed to go and they gave me directions. I started to follow their directions, which were taking me deeper and deeper into the building, and I realized I was trapped in the building and would never get out.
Then I woke up.
I asked the guy how to get to the floor I needed and he said "the elevator only goes to one place". So I took it, got off when it stopped, and ended up wandering around in this maze of conference rooms. None of them were the room I was supposed to go to.
I ended up getting into and getting out of about 10 different elevators trying to find the room I needed. Every time the elevator would go down it felt like free fall, and one time I was riding the elevator down there was a 10 year old kid in there with me and he started crying because he thought he was going to die when the elevator crashed. I kept explaining to him that elevators are safe but he wouldn't listen to me.
Finally I decided to call my client to get exact directions on where the meeting was supposed to be. But my blackberry wasn't working in the building. I tried to find a door to get outside but I couldn't. Then I came to a bar and a bunch of people I used to know in Maryland were sitting there drinking. I asked if they knew where I was supposed to go and they gave me directions. I started to follow their directions, which were taking me deeper and deeper into the building, and I realized I was trapped in the building and would never get out.
Then I woke up.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
my empire of dirt
Saturday I spent two hours of my life I'll never get back pulling weeds in my back yard. I actually didn't know some of the things were weeds until my guests came over for sushi night.
After I pulled up all the weeds my yard was looking like shit. I ended up going to bed at 9 pm last night because I was so tired from the week's engagement, and got up at 4 this morning and couldn't go back to sleep. I realized around 7 am that home depot would be open so I went and bought 40 plants for my yard. I know, what was I thinking?
So I've spent the day burying them and trying to get the rest of the yard in order. I bought something called dragon's blood, because it sounded cool. And some little green spiky things because they look like robots. I bought two plants that had pink flowers on them, and some more lavender because I planted that last year and it didn't die.
What a fucking pain in the ass when I got home though. I was digging for like a million years. Then I kept forgetting that I had planted stuff in a certain place and accidentally stepped on some of my new plants. Also, I was afraid while I was digging that I was going to dig up a snake, because they hide underground, so I had to put these huge shears on my lap, opened, so that if a snake came out of the ground I'd be able to chop it in half. Then I remembered this story someone told me about how a snake's head can bite you even if it's dead. So I had to take my little cushion thing that I had been kneeling on and make a barrier in front of me in case, when I chopped the snake in half, the head came flying towards me. Now my knees hurt. Fucking snakes, I hate them for almost biting me and making my knees hurt.
There were little direction things that came with all my plants, but some of them I couldn't read because I got mud on them, and others I read but found to be ridiculous. Like one said to plant the plants at least 8 inches from each other. But the plants themselves were only an inch big. That seemed really gay, so I planted them closer together. I think if they're so far away from each other they'll die because they think no one cares, but if they're close to each other they'll all grow up to be great because they're trying to outdo the other plants to be the best looking plant. Then I had more plants than I had holes, and didn't feel like digging more holes, so the final 4 plants I put into one big hole in a little pattern.
Finally, because my yard was a total muddy shit show, I decided to put down some grass seed I found in my garage. Even though I hate grass, I hate mud worse (except digging it, and mushing it around, that was the only fun part today). I pulled out all these little pellets that smelled like dog food and put them all over my yard. After wasting 20 minutes doing that I happened to glance at the bag and realized it wasn't fucking grass seed, but grass seed accelerator. What the fuck is that? It's like my grass is going to be split and then someone can build a bomb out of it? I was annoyed, even more so because now my yard smells like dog food.
I'm hopeful things might go good for my new plants because I have grown some plants in the past. My best plant is a christmas tree named Michael. When I got him he was only up to my knee and now, two years later, the little bastard is almost as tall as me. If he keeps being good and not dying this year I'm going to get him some beads for decoration.
I know I'm supposed to water stuff after I bury it, but it looks like it's going to rain, so I'm holding off. I figured whatever deity controls the weather has got to do a better job of watering than I could.
After I pulled up all the weeds my yard was looking like shit. I ended up going to bed at 9 pm last night because I was so tired from the week's engagement, and got up at 4 this morning and couldn't go back to sleep. I realized around 7 am that home depot would be open so I went and bought 40 plants for my yard. I know, what was I thinking?
So I've spent the day burying them and trying to get the rest of the yard in order. I bought something called dragon's blood, because it sounded cool. And some little green spiky things because they look like robots. I bought two plants that had pink flowers on them, and some more lavender because I planted that last year and it didn't die.
What a fucking pain in the ass when I got home though. I was digging for like a million years. Then I kept forgetting that I had planted stuff in a certain place and accidentally stepped on some of my new plants. Also, I was afraid while I was digging that I was going to dig up a snake, because they hide underground, so I had to put these huge shears on my lap, opened, so that if a snake came out of the ground I'd be able to chop it in half. Then I remembered this story someone told me about how a snake's head can bite you even if it's dead. So I had to take my little cushion thing that I had been kneeling on and make a barrier in front of me in case, when I chopped the snake in half, the head came flying towards me. Now my knees hurt. Fucking snakes, I hate them for almost biting me and making my knees hurt.
There were little direction things that came with all my plants, but some of them I couldn't read because I got mud on them, and others I read but found to be ridiculous. Like one said to plant the plants at least 8 inches from each other. But the plants themselves were only an inch big. That seemed really gay, so I planted them closer together. I think if they're so far away from each other they'll die because they think no one cares, but if they're close to each other they'll all grow up to be great because they're trying to outdo the other plants to be the best looking plant. Then I had more plants than I had holes, and didn't feel like digging more holes, so the final 4 plants I put into one big hole in a little pattern.
Finally, because my yard was a total muddy shit show, I decided to put down some grass seed I found in my garage. Even though I hate grass, I hate mud worse (except digging it, and mushing it around, that was the only fun part today). I pulled out all these little pellets that smelled like dog food and put them all over my yard. After wasting 20 minutes doing that I happened to glance at the bag and realized it wasn't fucking grass seed, but grass seed accelerator. What the fuck is that? It's like my grass is going to be split and then someone can build a bomb out of it? I was annoyed, even more so because now my yard smells like dog food.
I'm hopeful things might go good for my new plants because I have grown some plants in the past. My best plant is a christmas tree named Michael. When I got him he was only up to my knee and now, two years later, the little bastard is almost as tall as me. If he keeps being good and not dying this year I'm going to get him some beads for decoration.
I know I'm supposed to water stuff after I bury it, but it looks like it's going to rain, so I'm holding off. I figured whatever deity controls the weather has got to do a better job of watering than I could.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
negative airways
Today traveling home from WVA I had two really strange experiences...
The first was when I was sitting in a people mover at Dulles waiting to be taken to my gate. It had 5 minutes to go until it left so I pulled out a book I'm reading about blackwater. Two soldiers got on the people mover and sat across from me. One was obviously a seasoned soldier and the other was a new soldier who had apparently never been on a commercial airplane before. The seasoned guy was explaining to the other guy how the airport worked.
He then noticed the book I was reading. The people mover started filling up. He felt the need to start expounding on americans who don't appreciate the war in Iraq and how they are just stupid liberals who don't know shit about shit, and how it should be illegal for someone to even publish such a book. At first I was going to just ignore him, but then I started getting mad. I put my book mark in my book and looked right at the soldier. I could tell the other people in the people mover were worried there was going to be a fight.
I looked at the soldier and I said "Are you talking about me?" He looked unsure as to how to proceed, and then he said "Yes". I said "You are offended by the fact I'm reading this book?" Again, he said yes. "Do you know me, know anything about me, or know anything about this book?" I asked him. He sat there and didn't say anything . So I said "Does it bother you when people see you in uniform and react negatively to that?" He answered in the affirmative. I said "So why would you do the same thing to me that you hate other people doing to you?"
I then explained to him that the most important point being made in the blackwater book is that the company has defrauded the tax payers out of a lot of money, for example, by bringing in people who aren't as trained as a soldier, to do the work of a soldier, and that those people make at least 4 times what a soldier makes. I offered to read to him sections of the book I had marked where high ranking soldiers complained that blackwater was shooting people and ramming cars for no reason, and how retaliation was usually directed at soldiers and that it unstabilized regions that had been stable. And that blackwater had bought so much equipment for their guys that the Army and Marines were unable to give all of their soldiers bullet proof vests and armoured cars.
"Does that bother you?" I asked him. He said "Yes." I told him I would mail him the book when I was finished with it, if he wanted to read it too, or at least the sections I had described since I had them tabbed. He said "Ma'am, you don't have to do that, I'll buy a copy". I then said that one of the things we are supposedly doing in Iraq is allowing the Iraqi people the freedom to read a book that may say negative things about their government, and that his comment about not publishing books like the one I was reading, or imposing negative consequences for people who read those books, was exactly against everything that americans are supposed to believe.
There was dead silence on the people mover for the rest of the ride. As we got to the gate I wished the soldiers good luck. I think the thing that most pissed me off about the whole encounter is that I've worked with special forces and the marines my whole career, doing things to support them above what I was required to do. Last summer after I worked with the Navy SEALs the captain who hired me walked me to my car the last day of my engagement and said "I just wanted to thank you for your support to the war effort. We get thanked because we're in uniform, and people like you are usually forgotten."
And, I just spent the past week working 14 - 16 hour days to support another military organization. I don't have to do that. I do it because I know if I don't do the work it won't get done, and I'm not okay with that. I'm sure in his head that soldier was thinking "fuck you" but maybe he really will buy a copy of the book.
Then, I got on my plane. There was a couple sitting next to me with a little girl who was around 3. They seemed happy enough. The wife was very attractive and she and her husband kept talking about her mom, whom they were going to visit.
The steward brought us drinks, and the husband asked for a straw. The steward gave him one of those straws that you use to stir coffee. The husband looked at it, obviously pissed. So I leaned over the aisle and said "I have some real straws if you want one". I have a hard time drinking out of a normal glass since I have limited feeling in my lower lip due to a bike accident so I always travel with straws. The guy said "That would be really great!"
I pulled out my straws and asked if the kid had a particular color in mind. The husband laughed and said "anything is fine". So I chose a pink one for her. He thanked me again.
A few minutes later I was reading my book and I accidentally knocked over into the aisle this little trash pile that had accumulated on the edge of my tray. The husband immediately leaned over to pick it up at the same time I did and we knocked heads. We both kind of laughed, and then he picked up the trash and handed it to me. I put it back on my tray, closed my book, and decided to try to get some sleep.
The next thing I know the couple is in this huge fight about me. The wife was asking what had happened when we knocked heads and why he was leaning over. She accused him of flirting with me. She said a bunch of other stuff I couldn't hear because he told her to lower her voice. I did hear her say some thing about him helping me pick up my trash being disrespectful to her. It was kind of insane. Then I heard her say "No, what happened was you put your dick in her mouth". I guess the guy had recently had an affair or something. I heard the word "attorney".
The fight lasted for the next two hours, and then the wife put on her headphones and ignored the husband for the rest of the flight. While I feel for her having to deal with her husband's infidelity, I was only trying to help by offering a straw. I would have done the same thing if she had been sitting on the aisle seat. I felt bad that an innocuous kindness had caused a big fight.
When we landed I saw them again at the baggage claim. The wife was sitting on the floor by herself sulking. The husband was walking around with the kid. I decided to wait outside until the bags came to avoid having contact with either of them.
And of course the baggage loader had a problem so it took 45 minutes for my luggage to come out...but I decided to not be unhappy about that. There are enough unhappy people in the world I think.
The first was when I was sitting in a people mover at Dulles waiting to be taken to my gate. It had 5 minutes to go until it left so I pulled out a book I'm reading about blackwater. Two soldiers got on the people mover and sat across from me. One was obviously a seasoned soldier and the other was a new soldier who had apparently never been on a commercial airplane before. The seasoned guy was explaining to the other guy how the airport worked.
He then noticed the book I was reading. The people mover started filling up. He felt the need to start expounding on americans who don't appreciate the war in Iraq and how they are just stupid liberals who don't know shit about shit, and how it should be illegal for someone to even publish such a book. At first I was going to just ignore him, but then I started getting mad. I put my book mark in my book and looked right at the soldier. I could tell the other people in the people mover were worried there was going to be a fight.
I looked at the soldier and I said "Are you talking about me?" He looked unsure as to how to proceed, and then he said "Yes". I said "You are offended by the fact I'm reading this book?" Again, he said yes. "Do you know me, know anything about me, or know anything about this book?" I asked him. He sat there and didn't say anything . So I said "Does it bother you when people see you in uniform and react negatively to that?" He answered in the affirmative. I said "So why would you do the same thing to me that you hate other people doing to you?"
I then explained to him that the most important point being made in the blackwater book is that the company has defrauded the tax payers out of a lot of money, for example, by bringing in people who aren't as trained as a soldier, to do the work of a soldier, and that those people make at least 4 times what a soldier makes. I offered to read to him sections of the book I had marked where high ranking soldiers complained that blackwater was shooting people and ramming cars for no reason, and how retaliation was usually directed at soldiers and that it unstabilized regions that had been stable. And that blackwater had bought so much equipment for their guys that the Army and Marines were unable to give all of their soldiers bullet proof vests and armoured cars.
"Does that bother you?" I asked him. He said "Yes." I told him I would mail him the book when I was finished with it, if he wanted to read it too, or at least the sections I had described since I had them tabbed. He said "Ma'am, you don't have to do that, I'll buy a copy". I then said that one of the things we are supposedly doing in Iraq is allowing the Iraqi people the freedom to read a book that may say negative things about their government, and that his comment about not publishing books like the one I was reading, or imposing negative consequences for people who read those books, was exactly against everything that americans are supposed to believe.
There was dead silence on the people mover for the rest of the ride. As we got to the gate I wished the soldiers good luck. I think the thing that most pissed me off about the whole encounter is that I've worked with special forces and the marines my whole career, doing things to support them above what I was required to do. Last summer after I worked with the Navy SEALs the captain who hired me walked me to my car the last day of my engagement and said "I just wanted to thank you for your support to the war effort. We get thanked because we're in uniform, and people like you are usually forgotten."
And, I just spent the past week working 14 - 16 hour days to support another military organization. I don't have to do that. I do it because I know if I don't do the work it won't get done, and I'm not okay with that. I'm sure in his head that soldier was thinking "fuck you" but maybe he really will buy a copy of the book.
Then, I got on my plane. There was a couple sitting next to me with a little girl who was around 3. They seemed happy enough. The wife was very attractive and she and her husband kept talking about her mom, whom they were going to visit.
The steward brought us drinks, and the husband asked for a straw. The steward gave him one of those straws that you use to stir coffee. The husband looked at it, obviously pissed. So I leaned over the aisle and said "I have some real straws if you want one". I have a hard time drinking out of a normal glass since I have limited feeling in my lower lip due to a bike accident so I always travel with straws. The guy said "That would be really great!"
I pulled out my straws and asked if the kid had a particular color in mind. The husband laughed and said "anything is fine". So I chose a pink one for her. He thanked me again.
A few minutes later I was reading my book and I accidentally knocked over into the aisle this little trash pile that had accumulated on the edge of my tray. The husband immediately leaned over to pick it up at the same time I did and we knocked heads. We both kind of laughed, and then he picked up the trash and handed it to me. I put it back on my tray, closed my book, and decided to try to get some sleep.
The next thing I know the couple is in this huge fight about me. The wife was asking what had happened when we knocked heads and why he was leaning over. She accused him of flirting with me. She said a bunch of other stuff I couldn't hear because he told her to lower her voice. I did hear her say some thing about him helping me pick up my trash being disrespectful to her. It was kind of insane. Then I heard her say "No, what happened was you put your dick in her mouth". I guess the guy had recently had an affair or something. I heard the word "attorney".
The fight lasted for the next two hours, and then the wife put on her headphones and ignored the husband for the rest of the flight. While I feel for her having to deal with her husband's infidelity, I was only trying to help by offering a straw. I would have done the same thing if she had been sitting on the aisle seat. I felt bad that an innocuous kindness had caused a big fight.
When we landed I saw them again at the baggage claim. The wife was sitting on the floor by herself sulking. The husband was walking around with the kid. I decided to wait outside until the bags came to avoid having contact with either of them.
And of course the baggage loader had a problem so it took 45 minutes for my luggage to come out...but I decided to not be unhappy about that. There are enough unhappy people in the world I think.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
floods, bugs, emotional hugs
Early this morning I was at my customer site, and I went into the mess to get some hot water for my tea. The water thing was out of water, so I decided I would change the barrel thing by myself.
I removed the empty barrel, ripped the seal off of a new barrel, picked it up, and started walking towards the water thing. I had somehow failed to notice there was a power cord coming out of the water thing (presumably to make the water hot). Anyway, I tripped over the cord right as I was aiming the barrel downward to put it on the water thing, lost my balance and accidentally dropped the water barrel.
Five gallons of water spewed all over the floor. It was A LOT of water. I was like fuck fuck fuck. Then I realized, hey, it's 630 in the morning, no one is in yet, so I left the mess in the mess, and went back to my cube, where I kept laughing hysterically every time I thought about tripping (I would pay so much money to have the whole incident on tape). I am kind of embarrassed I did that, and I would have cleaned up the mess but there aren't even paper towels in the mess.
Luckily, when my customer got in, he immediately wanted to go over to a conference room in the other building. We were there all day, and when we got back to my cube it was 530 in the evening and the flood in the mess was gone.
Then, I realized I had caused yet another problem. I'm working in a SCIF, and no one told me we had to pack out our own trash. I ate two bananas, an apple, and two clementines on monday. I threw the peels and core away in the trash can under a desk in an empty cube. The trash was never taken out so I guess the peels and core started rotting or something. Plus, it's been raining like crazy here. Anyway, there is now an infestation of what the customer called "stink bugs" in the SCIF. They were literally jumping off the wall onto my keyboard when I was trying to go through my email and crawling on the cube walls. And they've even crawled into the honey comb space in the blinds, so all the blinds have dead stink bugs in them.
I don't think anyone has figured out the peels and core were mine. Or maybe my customer knows and he's being polite.
Because, he's really a great customer. Every night when I leave he says "thanks for everything you did today". I've never had a customer do that and it's like getting a little emotional hug at the end of every day. He also is getting really excited about all the architecture products we're creating. And the other day, when I pissed off a commander by saying, in response to a stupid comment, meant to suggest the stuff I was working on had no value, "That would be a great idea if you were presenting it in an insane asylum" (the commander ripped my head off), my customer told the commander "She knows what she's talking about. And if you don't get it, you're fucking stupid". The comment was a suggestion that, rather than research interfaces to a system that's going to be replaced, we just "unplug it and see what happens".
BTW, to get that commander back for being a dick, I devised a bunch of SQL queries to show, on a daily basis, how much work his team is getting done (next to nothing the past few days) vs. how much work my team is getting done (a lot!). The suck thing about that is our stuff is relying on theirs, and the longer they take, the less time we have to get our stuff done. When I showed the program manager what I did he got a smile the size of Texas on his face. He's going to present the reports at the next technical interchange meeting.
As for me, I am going to try to get through tomorrow without fucking anything else up in the office.
I removed the empty barrel, ripped the seal off of a new barrel, picked it up, and started walking towards the water thing. I had somehow failed to notice there was a power cord coming out of the water thing (presumably to make the water hot). Anyway, I tripped over the cord right as I was aiming the barrel downward to put it on the water thing, lost my balance and accidentally dropped the water barrel.
Five gallons of water spewed all over the floor. It was A LOT of water. I was like fuck fuck fuck. Then I realized, hey, it's 630 in the morning, no one is in yet, so I left the mess in the mess, and went back to my cube, where I kept laughing hysterically every time I thought about tripping (I would pay so much money to have the whole incident on tape). I am kind of embarrassed I did that, and I would have cleaned up the mess but there aren't even paper towels in the mess.
Luckily, when my customer got in, he immediately wanted to go over to a conference room in the other building. We were there all day, and when we got back to my cube it was 530 in the evening and the flood in the mess was gone.
Then, I realized I had caused yet another problem. I'm working in a SCIF, and no one told me we had to pack out our own trash. I ate two bananas, an apple, and two clementines on monday. I threw the peels and core away in the trash can under a desk in an empty cube. The trash was never taken out so I guess the peels and core started rotting or something. Plus, it's been raining like crazy here. Anyway, there is now an infestation of what the customer called "stink bugs" in the SCIF. They were literally jumping off the wall onto my keyboard when I was trying to go through my email and crawling on the cube walls. And they've even crawled into the honey comb space in the blinds, so all the blinds have dead stink bugs in them.
I don't think anyone has figured out the peels and core were mine. Or maybe my customer knows and he's being polite.
Because, he's really a great customer. Every night when I leave he says "thanks for everything you did today". I've never had a customer do that and it's like getting a little emotional hug at the end of every day. He also is getting really excited about all the architecture products we're creating. And the other day, when I pissed off a commander by saying, in response to a stupid comment, meant to suggest the stuff I was working on had no value, "That would be a great idea if you were presenting it in an insane asylum" (the commander ripped my head off), my customer told the commander "She knows what she's talking about. And if you don't get it, you're fucking stupid". The comment was a suggestion that, rather than research interfaces to a system that's going to be replaced, we just "unplug it and see what happens".
BTW, to get that commander back for being a dick, I devised a bunch of SQL queries to show, on a daily basis, how much work his team is getting done (next to nothing the past few days) vs. how much work my team is getting done (a lot!). The suck thing about that is our stuff is relying on theirs, and the longer they take, the less time we have to get our stuff done. When I showed the program manager what I did he got a smile the size of Texas on his face. He's going to present the reports at the next technical interchange meeting.
As for me, I am going to try to get through tomorrow without fucking anything else up in the office.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
feral climbers, crazy catholics, and a barfing barry
In the past few days I've had 3 really bad dreams.
The first, on Sunday, was a dream about an ex-boyfriend of mine. I was in Yosemite with him (for the record, I've never climbed there) and he was leading a 5.8 pitch. I was standing on the ground in this kind of sandy area. He was mouthing off about how hard the climb was (in real life, that was kind of his climbing MO when I climbed with him). Suddenly, he fell. As he hit the ground I realized he had been 20 feet up with no pro in.
Then, all these, I guess I should call them feral climbers appeared out of crevices in the rock. They started mocking my ex. He was laying on the ground. There was blood all over the sand. Then one of the feral climbers threw a rock down and hit him right in the middle of his head (he's almost completely bald). I was like oh my god because a bunch of blood shot out of his head. Then two climbers threw another rock down on him, and it landed on his leg, and the bottom part of his leg shot off and landed about 5 feet away from his body. I kept thinking I should move his body but I was afraid the feral climbers were going to start throwing rocks at me, and I was tied in to an anchor.
They threw more rocks and my ex's body was just getting pulverized. One said "Ha! He'll never be able to get his leg attached!" and another said "It doesn't matter because he's dead". And then I woke up.
Monday night I had a dream that I took my dad, my mom, and my grandmother to some remote area of Colorado. We were following Jeffy, who was on a snow mobile, in my subaru (I was driving). Jeffy started going up this really steep hill that was covered in snow drifts that were really high, and I tried to follow him, but my subaru kept sliding back. My dad was yelling at me so I hit the gas, and this time when we slid back my subaru went off the road and ended up in a ditch. Then these people from what I initially thought was an abandoned mining town appeared. They took us inside a house. I was really worried because my grandmother is old and she was really cold.
They bundled my parents and my grandmother up in these blankets that were magic blankets. Once you put them on they locked you up in this blanket cocoon. My grandmother and mom didn't notice, but my dad did and he was like "Franki, you have to go find Jeffy! We've been captured by crazy catholics!" Then one of the townspeople stood up and started doing this mass thing. I didn't want to leave my family but my dad kept telling me to run. So I ran out in the snow and started running up the hill where I had last seen Jeffy on his snow mobile. I was running as fast as I could and I was having problems breathing and I thought I was going to pass out and then my family would die. And then I woke up.
Last night I had a dream about my old boss Barry. In real life, Barry drinks a lot. Anyway, I was at a bar with my friends Neil, Jamesy, and some other old work colleagues. Barry was really wasted, more so than I've ever seen him. We were sitting outside at a long table at Nottingham's. Barry suddenly lowered his head and puked up this huge stream of fluid. I was like gross, he is so drunk! Neil asked me to help move Barry outside the bar in case he puked again but I didn't want to touch him. So Neil moved him alone (entirely possible, as Neil is about 6'4" and built like a brick shit house, and Barry is 5'5" and maybe 90 lbs soaking wet).
After Barry puked I wasn't having fun anymore so I told everyone I was leaving. Neil said I should bring Barry home with me. I didn't want to because I was afraid he would puke in my car. Neil said if I didn't bring him home he might die, but I left without him.
Then I got back to my parents' house, which was actually my grandmother's house (but my parents were living there), and I told them I wanted to sleep at their house because I was too tired to drive all the way back to my house. My mom was like "you can't stay here, there's someone in your room" and I went upstairs to look in my room, and there was Barry, passed out in my bed. I was really, really mad, so I went downstairs and was like "what the FUCK is he doing sleeping in MY bed?" and my parents said "he got here first". So then they pulled out this mattress from a sofa and told me I could sleep on that, but it was the wrong size, and way too short, so every time I fell asleep I would fall out of it. Then I suddenly realized Barry had died in my room. And Neil came over to see how Barry was and I was afraid for him to go see Barry dead because then Neil would think I was the worst friend ever.
Then I woke up. And, kind of funny, I had fallen out of bed. Which seems like it should be hard to do since I'm sleeping in a king sized bed. For whatever reason, I start sleeping right in the middle of the bed, and wake up in the morning right on the very edge. Or else I end up sideways. This happens even when I build a pillow blockade around myself before I go to sleep. I used to do that when I was a kid, and, hell, I seriously have about 10 pillows on my bed, so why not build a wall with them?
The first, on Sunday, was a dream about an ex-boyfriend of mine. I was in Yosemite with him (for the record, I've never climbed there) and he was leading a 5.8 pitch. I was standing on the ground in this kind of sandy area. He was mouthing off about how hard the climb was (in real life, that was kind of his climbing MO when I climbed with him). Suddenly, he fell. As he hit the ground I realized he had been 20 feet up with no pro in.
Then, all these, I guess I should call them feral climbers appeared out of crevices in the rock. They started mocking my ex. He was laying on the ground. There was blood all over the sand. Then one of the feral climbers threw a rock down and hit him right in the middle of his head (he's almost completely bald). I was like oh my god because a bunch of blood shot out of his head. Then two climbers threw another rock down on him, and it landed on his leg, and the bottom part of his leg shot off and landed about 5 feet away from his body. I kept thinking I should move his body but I was afraid the feral climbers were going to start throwing rocks at me, and I was tied in to an anchor.
They threw more rocks and my ex's body was just getting pulverized. One said "Ha! He'll never be able to get his leg attached!" and another said "It doesn't matter because he's dead". And then I woke up.
Monday night I had a dream that I took my dad, my mom, and my grandmother to some remote area of Colorado. We were following Jeffy, who was on a snow mobile, in my subaru (I was driving). Jeffy started going up this really steep hill that was covered in snow drifts that were really high, and I tried to follow him, but my subaru kept sliding back. My dad was yelling at me so I hit the gas, and this time when we slid back my subaru went off the road and ended up in a ditch. Then these people from what I initially thought was an abandoned mining town appeared. They took us inside a house. I was really worried because my grandmother is old and she was really cold.
They bundled my parents and my grandmother up in these blankets that were magic blankets. Once you put them on they locked you up in this blanket cocoon. My grandmother and mom didn't notice, but my dad did and he was like "Franki, you have to go find Jeffy! We've been captured by crazy catholics!" Then one of the townspeople stood up and started doing this mass thing. I didn't want to leave my family but my dad kept telling me to run. So I ran out in the snow and started running up the hill where I had last seen Jeffy on his snow mobile. I was running as fast as I could and I was having problems breathing and I thought I was going to pass out and then my family would die. And then I woke up.
Last night I had a dream about my old boss Barry. In real life, Barry drinks a lot. Anyway, I was at a bar with my friends Neil, Jamesy, and some other old work colleagues. Barry was really wasted, more so than I've ever seen him. We were sitting outside at a long table at Nottingham's. Barry suddenly lowered his head and puked up this huge stream of fluid. I was like gross, he is so drunk! Neil asked me to help move Barry outside the bar in case he puked again but I didn't want to touch him. So Neil moved him alone (entirely possible, as Neil is about 6'4" and built like a brick shit house, and Barry is 5'5" and maybe 90 lbs soaking wet).
After Barry puked I wasn't having fun anymore so I told everyone I was leaving. Neil said I should bring Barry home with me. I didn't want to because I was afraid he would puke in my car. Neil said if I didn't bring him home he might die, but I left without him.
Then I got back to my parents' house, which was actually my grandmother's house (but my parents were living there), and I told them I wanted to sleep at their house because I was too tired to drive all the way back to my house. My mom was like "you can't stay here, there's someone in your room" and I went upstairs to look in my room, and there was Barry, passed out in my bed. I was really, really mad, so I went downstairs and was like "what the FUCK is he doing sleeping in MY bed?" and my parents said "he got here first". So then they pulled out this mattress from a sofa and told me I could sleep on that, but it was the wrong size, and way too short, so every time I fell asleep I would fall out of it. Then I suddenly realized Barry had died in my room. And Neil came over to see how Barry was and I was afraid for him to go see Barry dead because then Neil would think I was the worst friend ever.
Then I woke up. And, kind of funny, I had fallen out of bed. Which seems like it should be hard to do since I'm sleeping in a king sized bed. For whatever reason, I start sleeping right in the middle of the bed, and wake up in the morning right on the very edge. Or else I end up sideways. This happens even when I build a pillow blockade around myself before I go to sleep. I used to do that when I was a kid, and, hell, I seriously have about 10 pillows on my bed, so why not build a wall with them?
orange you glad it isn't Monday anymore?
I'm always bitching about my clients, so I thought I might mention that I am working with a client this week who, though the project is a shit show and there isn't enough time on the engagement to get things done, showed me two very thoughtful kindnesses today.
First, we were meeting with a team with whom my client has to coordinate. My client brought in doughnuts and bagels, and when I walked into the conference room where our meeting was to be held I saw he also brought in a huge bag of clementines. Last time I was with this client I ate 8 clementines over the course of 6 hours. He remembered. Not only that, he remembered I don't eat doughnuts and that I won't eat bagels unless they are toasted first.
The second thing he did, after I talked the group into having a working lunch instead of breaking, is, when we were ordering pizzas, he asked me what I wanted since he knows I'm picky. Everyone called that pizza the Franki pizza. One of the guys, who is an admiral, made fun of my pizza and then ate two pieces of it. "The Franki pizza wasn't so bad, was it?" I asked him, and he said "Yeah, I feel healthier already", then he rolled his eyes.
Which brings up a funny side note...since I'm in the middle of nowhere WVA there's very few places to eat. So last night I went to the restaurant where we ordered pizza from today to get dinner. I had called ahead, but when I showed up at the restaurant they didn't have my order. The guy finally figured out I called another restaurant with the same name, but that restaurant was located about 70 miles away. He called them and cancelled my order for me. Anyway, he's the one that brought the pizzas today, and as soon as he saw me he was like "Franki! You called the right restaurant this time!"
I refused to explain to everyone why he said that because I knew I would get teased for the rest of my life about it.
First, we were meeting with a team with whom my client has to coordinate. My client brought in doughnuts and bagels, and when I walked into the conference room where our meeting was to be held I saw he also brought in a huge bag of clementines. Last time I was with this client I ate 8 clementines over the course of 6 hours. He remembered. Not only that, he remembered I don't eat doughnuts and that I won't eat bagels unless they are toasted first.
The second thing he did, after I talked the group into having a working lunch instead of breaking, is, when we were ordering pizzas, he asked me what I wanted since he knows I'm picky. Everyone called that pizza the Franki pizza. One of the guys, who is an admiral, made fun of my pizza and then ate two pieces of it. "The Franki pizza wasn't so bad, was it?" I asked him, and he said "Yeah, I feel healthier already", then he rolled his eyes.
Which brings up a funny side note...since I'm in the middle of nowhere WVA there's very few places to eat. So last night I went to the restaurant where we ordered pizza from today to get dinner. I had called ahead, but when I showed up at the restaurant they didn't have my order. The guy finally figured out I called another restaurant with the same name, but that restaurant was located about 70 miles away. He called them and cancelled my order for me. Anyway, he's the one that brought the pizzas today, and as soon as he saw me he was like "Franki! You called the right restaurant this time!"
I refused to explain to everyone why he said that because I knew I would get teased for the rest of my life about it.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
downward dog
Tonight as I was exiting the room that comprises the hotel gym, or should I say "gym", after doing my cardio I ran into Bones. He was sitting outside the gym door, perhaps I flatter myself, waiting for me. I'm not sure how he escaped the evil clutches of the cheerleaders but he did.
I was telling him about my cardio routine and he followed me right into my room. I told him he could hang out but that I had to finish my work out. I got into downward dog position, and told Bones he might want to try yoga since he's still young and limber. But he seemed to think I was making some kind of human dog house, because he crawled underneath me and laid down. Then I went into plank and tried to tell him that my next move was into cobra, and that he was going to have to move. But instead of moving he rolled over on his back and was like scratch my belly.
I told him that I would pet him as soon as I finished my workout but he wasn't listening. I decided to fore go cobra and just get my bicycle crunches done. It was hard though because Bones thought I was playing some kind of game with him. Every time I would extend my foot out he would try to smack it down with his paw. And when I was doing my 100s he kept trying to grab my hands with his mouth, and when I told him to stop he decided to stand next to my head and lick my ear.
So I said that I was going to do some crunches and then end my workout. While I was doing crunches Bones decided that he should jump on my bed. Then he ran around and made the pillows all messed up. I was like you are totally not allowed to jump on the bed and he said that he was allowed because he's a puppy.
After my crunches I showed Bones a you tube vid of a shark getting attacked by an octopus. I think he liked it because he was wagging his tail and trying to put his paws on my keyboard. Then we laid down on the bed and watched a show called modern marvels. Eventually the manager came to collect him. I was reminding Bones to brush his teeth before bed and he sneezed and blew dog snot all over the bottom of my yoga pants.
I talked to the manager for a few more minutes, and Bones fell asleep in the hallway. The manager had to pick him up and carry him out to the car.
I was telling him about my cardio routine and he followed me right into my room. I told him he could hang out but that I had to finish my work out. I got into downward dog position, and told Bones he might want to try yoga since he's still young and limber. But he seemed to think I was making some kind of human dog house, because he crawled underneath me and laid down. Then I went into plank and tried to tell him that my next move was into cobra, and that he was going to have to move. But instead of moving he rolled over on his back and was like scratch my belly.
I told him that I would pet him as soon as I finished my workout but he wasn't listening. I decided to fore go cobra and just get my bicycle crunches done. It was hard though because Bones thought I was playing some kind of game with him. Every time I would extend my foot out he would try to smack it down with his paw. And when I was doing my 100s he kept trying to grab my hands with his mouth, and when I told him to stop he decided to stand next to my head and lick my ear.
So I said that I was going to do some crunches and then end my workout. While I was doing crunches Bones decided that he should jump on my bed. Then he ran around and made the pillows all messed up. I was like you are totally not allowed to jump on the bed and he said that he was allowed because he's a puppy.
After my crunches I showed Bones a you tube vid of a shark getting attacked by an octopus. I think he liked it because he was wagging his tail and trying to put his paws on my keyboard. Then we laid down on the bed and watched a show called modern marvels. Eventually the manager came to collect him. I was reminding Bones to brush his teeth before bed and he sneezed and blew dog snot all over the bottom of my yoga pants.
I talked to the manager for a few more minutes, and Bones fell asleep in the hallway. The manager had to pick him up and carry him out to the car.
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