And thank you for writing your requiem, which is so apropos for today, in the middle of so much death.
May Connie Waits, mother of two middle-school girls in my church, see her idea of heaven, and may it have all not been a sham.
And may the childhood friend of CAE's father rest in peace for eternity.
At least a reasonable facsimile of it. Because everyone falls into money pits occassionally, and at least it's not credit card debt, and I'm still way above average in debt anyway, and it'll all get fixed tonight. Who cares if I've given $600 to Key Bank this month.
Moving on. In order to combat this temporary poverty, I am following Kristy's excellent example and blatantly stealing her NJ06 model, otherwise known as No Joy in '06. Except it'll just be No Joy in February, or NJFB.
So! NJFB, here I come!
My soul is a deep dark navy blue. I am so broke, and yet Key Bank keeps withdrawing money. I don't even have energy to fight it. Verizon is screwing me over. I have no energy to fight that. CAE lives very far away from me and I'm tired of that fact. I'm tired of living in Tacoma. I'm tired of him living in Mill Creek. I'm tired of driving up there. I'm tired of waking up in the dark and coming home in the fucking dark! I'm tired of everything! I'm tired of it! Go away, world.
Yeah! Go Seahawks, Go Seahawks, go, go, go Seahawks!
For those of you who are Seattle natives, and care about pro ball (which would be no one who reads this blog) I don't have to explain what a big deal this is. For those of you who aren't Seattle natives or don't care about pro ball, I'll save you the explanation.
So, moving on. I spent most of my day sitting very still in my office chair and trying to stifle my groans. Note to self: walking, for an hour and a half, letting your dog set the pace, when you're still not at 100% health-wise and haven't worked out in a week...is a bad idea. My muscles aren't on fire so much as they're at sort of a dull roar. It's like I've been beaten, hard, by a pillow with a core of lead--not sharp enough to leave bruising, but hard enough to leave deep-tissue aches. And no, I don't really have any idea what that feels like. Thank God.
Obviously the way to counteract this would be to eat the health food I have here--spinach, peppers, and organic mac and cheese--but digesting "real" food just seems like too much work. And so I ate pizza for lunch and have had one mini Mr. Good bar, one mini Reese's Peanut Butter Cup, and one cherry Starburst. And dry cereal. (In other news, can someone tell me while cereal that's really good for you--like Kashi or Smart Start--is so effin' high in calories, and a cereal like Lucky Charms has a calorie content of almost HALF that of Smart Start? Why? Why? Oh, the insanity!)
Moving on, again. Finally the painkiller that I took (god bless you, ibuprofen) kicked in, and now I have some semblance of a sense of humor. I missed it while it was gone. Welcome back, humor.
In other news, everyone really needs to read this: 'Tis the Season to Be Sickly. Note to CAE: walking in the rain does NOT cause colds!
Also in today's news, I said "Foucault's Pendulum" when I meant to say "Occam's Razor". Whoops.
And finally, it will be the best Superbowl ever (at least for me) because PITTSBURGH is playing the HAWKS! (It would be helpful to know for everyone that I went to Carnegie Mellon in Pittsburgh for college. Nonetheless, there's no doubt who I'm rooting for. The Steelers have been to the 'Bowl already. Seattle is the underdog, and Seattle will WIN, WIN WIN.
So, a long time ago (about three paychecks ago, maybe four) I thought I had a lot of money in the bank. A LOT of money, I thought. And it was about to be Christmas. So I bought a lot of stuff. And fell off the Starbucks wagon. In a big way. (Can we say a ten dollar PER DIEM Starbucks habit? Yes, we can. Um. Assuming I can even pay for the use of my own vocal cords anymore. And assuming we know that Per Diem is Latin for per day. And by "we" I mean "you".)
So, about two paychecks ago, I became overdrawn at the bank. Which happened because even though my roommate kindly wrote me a check for his half of the rent, ON TIME, I FORGOT TO DEPOSIT IT. Did you read that correctly? I FORGOT TO DEPOSIT IT.
So, that check did not make it into my account, yet I continued to spend as if it had. The day before I'm about to LEAVE for WHISTLER, my MOTHER calls me and says,
"Did you know you're overdrawn at the bank?"
Can we all let that sink in for a second? That my MOTHER knew that I was overdrawn before I did? And how did she know? Why, she was talking to my father, who happens to be a cosigner on my account, and he was looking at his accounts online, and mine happens to show up because it's an account he's on, after all. I also imagine that besides telling my mother, my father called HIS mother, who probably called her sister, and her sister probably called five other church ladies, who probably eventually told Former Boss, who probably told his friend, the editor of The Tacoma News Tribune, and I fully expect the fact that I was overdrawn to be front page news anytime.
Moving on. So, because Key Bank is the devil, they charged me a lot for being overdrawn. Like, about 160 dollars. Out of money that I already didn't have. So the day I'm supposed to leave for Whistler (one of the cheapest vacation spots in the world, ha ha!) I'm running around from bank to bank with two people that I DON'T know from Adam in my car, treating them to a first-hand view of how badly I manage money.
But no, it's not over. Not by a long shot.
I cash Roommate's check into Key Bank, mentally cursing them for raping me with overdraft charges, and run over to BECU, at which is my "savings" (HAHA!) account, and withdraw $200, CAD. In preparation for Whistler. I'm thinking, it'll be tight, but I can make it! Yay!
AND THEN I FORGET MY SKI PANTS. Yes. Really. And I totally forget that you can rent ski pants, so I run out and spend $100 CAD on ski pants, trusting my $100 CAD to get me through three days of skiing and parting at Whistler.
Ha. Did I mention I now owe a bunch of strangers some money? Yes. The people who I went on the ski trip with floated me money.
But no, the pain is not over yet. Perhaps now would be the time to mention that I got a call way back in JULY with an offer to add unlimited text-and-picture messaging to my Verizon account for the low, low price of $5.00. At the time, I thought: well, I don't use text messaging OR picture messaging that much, I'll just keep it to a reasonable amount.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! God, I crack myself up.
Because then I started dating CAE, who LOVES to text message, not to mention that we spent all of the holidays away from each other. In loud bars. Where speaking, or hearing, wasn't really possible. So, we texted. A lot.
And then (yes, there's several more "and thens") I forgot to pay my phone bill and got a late charge! So I come back from Whistler, completely broke and owing people money, and I get a phone bill for $221.89. I just about cried.
Did I mention, also, that my insurance check bounced as well, giving me a ton more late charges, and that my phone bill bounced too? Did I mention that up to now, I've given freely of my own accord TWO HUNDRED FORTY FUCKING DOLLARS to Key Bank? Did I mention that? And spent easily $60 on phone bills that were completely unnecessary? Did I mention I just got a letter from my no-good cut-rate insurance company that seems to be the only one who will insure me because of my expensive driving record that states, verbatim, "due to the above referenced-loss the amount of property damage may exceed the liability coverage available to you under the above-referenced policy"? And that maybe turning tricks on the corner for quick cash is beginning to look completely appealing? And that I'm seriously considering selling my body to science? Hey, four weekends and ten day-time appointments = $1800 in my book.
We can all welcome CAE (Chicago Aerospace Engineer) to this blog, because he has the address and may read it.
Hi, honey!
MY HAIR IS SHORT! WOO! Pictures are coming!
In other news, I'm super sick. My head feels stuffed with cotton, I haven't gotten anything done at work because I can't think, all the people I see annoy me, etc. Good times.
Blech.
Two posts in one day! Who'da thunk? Okay, so this is copied straight off the internet. I still found it hysterical.
25 Signs That You Are Grown Up:
1. Your houseplants are alive, and you can't smoke any of them.
2. Having sex in a twin bed is out of the question.
3. You keep more food than beer in the fridge.
4. 6:00 AM is when you get up, not when you go to bed.
5. You hear your favorite song in an elevator.
6. You watch the Weather Channel.
7. Your friends marry and divorce instead of "hook up" and "break up."
8. You go from 130 days of vacation time to 14.
9. Jeans and a sweater no longer qualify as "dressed up."
10. You're the one calling the police because those %&@# kids next door
won't turn down the stereo.
11. Older relatives feel comfortable telling sex jokes around you.
12. You don't know what time Taco Bell closes anymore.
13. Your car insurance goes down and your car payments go up.
14. You feed your dog Science Diet instead of McDonald's leftovers.
15. Sleeping on the couch makes your back hurt.
16. You take naps.
17. Dinner and a movie is the whole date instead of the beginning of
one.
18. Eating a basket of chicken wings at 3 AM would severely upset,
rather than settle, your stomach.
19. You go to the drug store for ibuprofen and antacid, not condoms and
pregnancy tests.
20. A $4.00 bottle of wine is no longer "pretty good stuff."
21.You actually eat breakfast food at breakfast time.
22. "I just can't drink the way I used to" replaces "I'm never going to
drink that much again."
23. 90% of the time you spend in front of a computer is for real work.
24. You drink at home to save money before going to a bar.
25. When you find out your friend is pregnant, you congratulate them
instead of asking, "Oh S*$#, what the hell happened?"
Bonus: 26: You read this entire list looking desperately for one sign
that doesn't apply to you and can't find one to save your sorry old
butt.
I would like to be able to say that I cut my hair off yesterday...
But I can't. Because I didn't.
Although, in spite of the title of this post, it was NOT because I chickened out! Really!
I was stuck in meetings all day. Scout's Honor. On the plus side, the meetings went AWESOME and my new lead APPRECIATES me! People listen to what I have to say! I'm INCLUDED on email chains! My lead COMPLIMENTS me on my work!
It's sad that I'm excited about being treated well at work for the first time ever.
But it's important! This is the last time for awhile I'll get to be Lady Godiva.
My long, wet hair. (Click for actual pic.)
Because it's all coming off for Locks of Love on Thursday at NOON! That's TOMORROW!
And yes, there will be before and after pictures. Duh.
Also, B----- peeps continue to get out of control, the weather outside is frightful, and when I called Bank of America to investigate their Loan Consolidation offer, the guy I got helping me out was this STUD named Patrick from Virginia, just a month older than me.
Actually, I have no idea what he looks like, but he was so hot and funny on the phone! I had no idea that consolidating my loans would be that enjoyable!
Think that's strange? I've gotten picked up in hospitals, by police officers patrolling clubs, and while walking four blocks between a Metro Stop and a bar in Foggy Bottom in DC (shoutout to THE SCHARDT!) among other places.
What does that mean? Am I building muscle?
I mean, for Chrissake, I went skiing and dancing for four days in Whistler!
And yes, to say I had a good time would be an understatement. Whistler is really paradise. 
Cheers!
Other, extremely boring news:
1. I couldn't find a swimsuit at Nordstrom that was a) cute, and b) not 130 dollars.
2. I realized that even with my $50 Nordstrom gift card, I wouldn't be able to afford anything AND eat in Whistler. (Unless the entire swimsuit was less than $50.)
3. They have really great sheet sets on Overstock.com that I can't buy, either, even though I really need new sheets.
4. Following the above rationale, I can't afford an old team suit at NW Swim Shop either. I will just wear the bikini I already have with the stained crotch and take what comes.
5. At least my legs will be shaved.
6. I cannot make CAE pay enough attention to me.
7. Of course, I'm in a mood in which "enough attention" would be physically covering me, 24-7.
8. Really. I just want to be held. I've realized, while talking to him on IM today, that I don't really have anything to say.
9. And there's nothing wrong with the relationship. I just want to be covered in CAE. Not in a sick way. Just in a smothering kind of way.
10. Why is it that when you really need to be entertained, no one will entertain you?
Good things about today!
1. Yesterday I spent all day at my desk just ACHING for the gym. Could not wait to get to that gym. That was odd, but great.
2. Today, too, I can't wait to get home and maybe go for a run before Hip Hop Anonymous. (HHA) (CAE came up with that and I love it.)
3. Actually Did Stuff at work. (still on a path toward World Domination)
4. Had a great lunch with other new-hire friends. Funny and wonderful.
5. Last day of work for the week! WOO!
6. Leaving for Whistler for THREE AND A HALF DAYS, TOMORROW!
7. Picking my one of my BEST friends and partners in crime up tonight at the airport!
8. Going to Karaoke!
And an observation: in the New World Order, there will be no meetings. Ever.
a. If two people need to talk, they can talk on the phone. (Cell, of course.) So that they can be anywhere. Like, a Starbucks.
b. If three or more people need to talk, they can get a conference call through a central operator. And still be on cell phones. Shopping, or walking along downtown.
c. If a face-to-face event is required, there will be NO SITTING. And discussions will last no longer than 15 minutes without a break.
ARGH.
February 11, 2005
So, I'm dating these two guys, named B and D. I know. Recipe for disaster, right? The worst thing is, their names on my Caller ID look almost EXACTLY alike—I really have to look closely when either one calls, and now I'm so paranoid about it that I have to look three or four times to check and re-check, and I still forget by the time I pick up the phone. Fortunately, their voices sound different—D's got the typical West Coast quick-quick-slow pattern, whereas B is from Cleveland and is a bit more nasal, almost Pittsburgh-type in sound. But it's hard to tell that from a simple "Hello".
Moving on. B's supposed to call me at 11:30 today, so I step outside for a walk at about this time. While waiting, I call mom. She's on lunch break too, and we both have so much to say to each other that we immediately start to chatter full speed ahead, often talking over each other trying to get the words out in time. We're still in full flow twenty minutes later when someone beeps in. I look at the phone, expecting it to be B, and it's D. Or is it? I double check. Nope, still says D. I interrupt my mom in the middle of a life-changing realization and say I'll call her back. I look at the phone again. Still says D.
Me, purring: "Hi." (I figure I can't go wrong either way with this.)
Then I get the shock of my life: the guy who says "Hello" back sounds incredibly nasal. I'm terrified. My phone said "D"! How can it be B? But it does sound like D, somewhat, but really: he's so nasal! A dozen possibilities flash through my head: have they merged into one person? Have they discovered each other's existence and is one of them calling to fuck with me? What if they traded phones to bring me to my doom? Is my phone fucking with me out of revenge for being dropped in the dog’s water dish?
Fortunately, because I'm dating both these guys, a lot of my conversation is transferable, and nervousness has made me more hyper than usual. I chatter about the gorgeous day and what I'm doing right then, which is walking along the banks of the Duwamish River. Even more confusing, D (if it IS D) is in full business mode, asking me about B----- and so on, which is more of a B thing to do. Finally, my head is spinning like a top in full Exorcist mode when the guy on the other end (whom I've barely been listening to) says, "...blah blah blah Local Tacoma Restaurant blah blah..." and I'm saved. It IS D! Hallelujah! I settle down and begin to pepper my conversation with terms of endearment. After all, I am sleeping with him and calling him my boyfriend—he and I have a different relationship than me and B. D and I are in the middle of exchanging dirty suggestions when my phone beeps again.
You guessed it. It's B, calling half an hour late.
Me: "Oh, hang on sexy, it's my Mom." *beep*
D: "Sure, go ahead."
Me (praying that I have actually switched over lines): "Hiiiiiiiii," purred.
B (very nasal and Cleveland): "Hi! Blah blah blah I hurt my foot on my run this morning and might have to get it operated on!"
Me: "Oh no, hon! Tell me all about it!"
B: "Blah blah blah blah blah remember our date tonight blah blah blah!"
Me (several minutes later when I remember that I'm still on the phone with D): "Oh, hon, I have to go! I got so caught up in talking to you that I forgot I was on the phone with my mom! Can I call you back at 2:30?"
B: "Sure!"
Me (clicking over again, praying equally hard): "Geez, my mom! Talk talk talk!"
D: (laughs) "So, My Friend blah blah blah what are you doing on your night as a free woman blah blah?"
(aka the night I already told D I wouldn't be free because I'm going out with B, but told D I was going out the The Girlz.)
Me (inventing frantically and stalling, but trying to make it sound like I'm just drawing out the revelation): "Weeeeeeelllll...Co-Waitress and I have been in some talks...blah blah blah no actual plans yet blah blah probably come home early anyway blah blah total bullshit blah blah blah!"
D: "Sounds great!"
Me: (silently) Thank you, Goddess of Courtesans.
