Happy New Year

Well, it's not so bad
Spent the day with my roommate
we took a drive up the coast
explored a rainy, mellow saturday
then ate some take-out indian food
and now sitting on my comfy warm couch with the most important 'person' in my life- my son
nice to be with him to bring in the new year.
i'm watching times square, and reveling in the anticipation of being there next year!

as expected, i'm feeling a little introspective (altho, pleasantly NOT on a bus)- taking a bit of mental inventory. another year marker is here. i'd pledged to get my life together by 30. then extended it to 35. well, that's here.....

i was reading through the writer's market today, and kindof had an epiphany of sorts-
the question that haunts my life seems to be 'what do i want to be when i grow up?' and all of the other things i want seem to be held up by the unanswered state of that question. i kept thinking all week, i can't imagine any 'job' that i'd love so much that i actually looked forward to it. work just sucks, right? most people just suck up that fact and deal whereas i'm too stubborn to accept it, yes??

today, i was reading through the writer's market and it dawned on me- advertising / publishing. maybe that's my field.
i mean most people stumble or gravitate into a field they love, and then they spend their 20s exploring different jobs in that field until they find their niche. I, on the other hand, have meandered around all over creation with no rhyme or reason, dancing in and out of career fields aimlessly. but i've been in the publishing industry now since 2000. and i really do like it.
i don't like i'd like bookkeeping 1/2 as much if i wasn't sitting in the art dept of a publication.

and what i didn't realize until today, was that there are more jobs than i ever stopped to consider in that industry-
not just in the art department, or publishing my own magazine. i could be editor. or something else. wow.

suddenly it seemed that maybe, just MAYBE, all the wild divergent strings were coming together-
that all my interests and abilities- photography, design, writing, creativity, psychology, inspirational expression. it could all be tied into that field.

advertising , with a minor in photography- that was clearly the career choice- the major, i should've chosen.
i started thinking of what a dope i've been for missing all the signals.
in high school i joined the yearbook staff and LOVED it. love love loved it. I didn't even know it at the time, but what i was doing was page layout!!!! duh!

i was such a dumb-ass in college. i didn't look around at careers. all i did was sit on my butt and read through the majors listed in the hand-book, and then chose the only one i was familiar with.

after freshman year, there was interlochen. we made puff painted shirts. and then junior year, we made broad shirts. they were amazing. my creativity was beginning to unfold. then the 1st year after college, i remember distinctly going to a craft show with mom in columbia. i stopped at a nature photographer's exhibit, mesmerized, staring like a deer in headlights. i remember mom getting bored and sending her off. she went through the whole craft fair and came back, only to find me still soaking it up. i knew then that was what i wanted to do with my life. i looked into interning with national geographic. i remember the disappointing findings- they choose ONE person each year- a student who wins their competition. i was no longer a student, so in my typical quitter fashion, that was the end of that.

and i donno why it never surfaced earlier, but my creativity exploded that year. i cut out pieces of cardboard, wrote poems or quotes and started illustrating around them in puff paint. i painted picture frames, i painted my dresser- i painted everything that didn't move. god that was the year i had it most together (ironically, that was when my dad told me i needed to get my life together). i've yet to achieve such balance since. i wonder if it had anything to do with the fact that i was only working 4 hours a day. hmmmmm... i volunteered at a food bank, played in a community band, sang in the church choir, and had a group of friends. i was paid to hang out on the playground, play with toys, and devise crafty, fun ways to entertain 3 yr olds. what a job! aside from living with the ps, life was good!!

anyway, i digress.
4 years of teaching about killed the creative streak, and living in a small town toilet precluded taking any college courses. by the end of pageland, my college burnout was gone, i was ready to go back to school. so charlotte was a dream come true. life in a city. college courses. i took graphic design and photography the 1st year, and loved them both. then ice skating. bliss.
so there was design showing up again.

i always remember being interested in advertising, even as i didn't believe in it as a highly respectable profession. graphics, images, color, layout, expression, writing- i was drawn to it.

i found a bunch of career profiles from high school as i was going thru my hope chest this christmas at the p's house. i was surprised to find advertising and photography were listed as careers. why didn't i follow them?

as i said earlier, i feel like i'm closer than i've ever been to figuring it out, figuring ME out. for someone as ridiculously analytical, pensive and solitary as me, i was ridiculously non self-aware as a young adult. i didn't know who i was or what i liked. i mean, i spent my childhood trying to blend in, to morph to my surroundings as to not draw attention to myself or be singled out in a crowd. i had no concept of who i was. i was whoever the present company was looking for - whatever was attractive, charming, cool or desirable at the time, that's who i was. i became the chameleon- to avoid teasing, in hopes of fitting in, being accepted or liked. so much so, that i never stopped to think of who I was. I never had the confidence to be myself.

So it's been a long process of self-discovery. and even tho by every standard, my life is still lacking in any measurable success- husband, house, kids, career, money, etc, etc. i'm closer than i ever have been- to knowing who i am and what works for me.

if i could just figure out how to make a good living in this world- to support myself well; to find my passion, my voice and my calling- then all the other pieces could fall into place. i've been so in survival mode in regard to money, that i haven't been able to progress past surviving into thriving in any area of my life.

god, if there is a force in this universe, puLEASE let these random pieces fall into place SOON.
wouldn't it be great if all my random meanderings actually were leading me somewhere?

one of the amazing women in my life said something so cool to me last month.
i was talking about my trip- telling her that half the time i feel like such a failure, running off to south america because i can't make my life here work; because i had no path or direction whatsoever. and she brought out this book by mr rogers- and read to me a passage about a ship and a rudder. In response to my 'directionless' statement, she told me, 'no, you're on a ... what do you call it? (translating from her spanish train of thought), a track' , she said. 'even though you can't see it, your rudder is guiding you to where you need to be, to the jungle' that is one of the coolest things anyone has ever said to me. she SOO goes in my hall of champions for that. for believing in me even when i don't believe in myself- that is the mark of a great leader and an amazing woman!

if i have a new year's wish, that would be it- that all my aimless wandering thus far, this whole meandering mess, has all been some predesigned plan, some invisible track, leading me right to where i finally belong.

I'd be much more well adjusted with Valium!

and by the way, new years eve just sucks
all you happy cloud people can just shove that holiday right up your ass
i remember ONE that didn't suck. i was 16
turns out 2006 will be another solo event for me
don't think anyone could have anymore alone holidays if they tried

whatever
seriously
whatever

wish there was ever a moment that everything felt ok
i feeel nervous
god, i am my mother
twitchy
anxious
on edge
always
i would kill for a vicodin right now

i was thinking about my friend here today
she's so got her life together
and not in an obnoxious happy cloud way- thank god
i hope i end up living w/ her for a while
she has so much to teach me
please, somebody get me out of this hellish rut of a life
i was thinking what she has that i aspire to having: a job she loves, a house, nice car, adventure, friends, boyfriend, balance, confidence, fun, trips/travel, summers off, exercise, cute boys flirting with her, plenty of $
no wonder i have such lack mentality.
there are a lot of things i want, and i don't know how to go about getting them

Christmas 2005

The idea of christmas in my head is always wildly discrepant than how it actually plays out in reality.
Christmas is the only holiday i like. I love everything about it, and i refuse to let it be tainted.
but what i love is the holiday commercials, the christmas lights, ice skating rinks, carols, the spirit of giving, all the eye candy of the season. what i've always wanted is the norman rockwell version of it.

i had it once. when we got evacuated from the middle east, we ended up in NY for 4 months with my mom's family- the family i always wanted to grow up in. she has 4 sisters, all of them a total hoot. so christmas 1980, we were in the best city- we bundled up and went to see the big tree in rockefeller center, ate at the street venders, and froze our toes off! then we got a huge tree and decorated it. christmas morning, i was surrounded by a whole bunch of family, exchanging presents, gathered around this big tree in my grandma's huge living room. THAT is what christmas should be.

like i said, aside from that one year, the reality has been quite different
this year, i went to visit the parents for the first time in a few years to find my dad falling to pieces.
despite being only 66, he's on medication for high blood pressure, high cholesterol, irregular heartbeat, asthma, and peripheral neuropathy. all my mom talks about is his doctor visits, his wheezing, his different medications, and how 'out of it' he is. i didn't want to believe her. everytime i talk to dad on the phone, he seems alert and happy and normal.
but there were signs hard to ignore.

he has a breathing treatment he does, and instead of putting the correct drops into the machine, he put mom's eye drops in it, inhaling those instead. he broke and spilled a glass of wine all over the living room floor and the side of the couch. and then, when i went into the kitchen, there was wine down the side of the cabinet. (????) and the most disturbing, i was trying to help him upload pictures to his blog, and it was taking him forever to do the simplest tasks on the computer. granted, he was sick with a sinus infection, which can make you feel 'out of it'. but he looked at the blog homepage and stared at the big username and login section like he'd never seen it before. then it took him 2 times to enter his password info, and he had to look it up on a sheet. then after i uploaded the info, turns out he'd already uploaded that and forgot. SCARY.

he's fat- hugely fat. mom says 260 lbs. looks 9 months pregnant with twins. and his face is so swollen and fat, he looks like he's got the mumps. he has these huge wine glasses that he kept refilling, despite the fact that alcohol counteracts most of his meds. seems quite hell bent on killing himself. mom says everyday she wakes up wondering if today will be the day that he drops dead. 4 days with him, and i felt like that too- scared to leave him alone, nervous when he was too quiet, waiting on edge, expecting to hear the dreaded sound of breaking glass and a large thump. i felt like i was in a nursing home- with all the talk of breathing machines, nebulizers and various drugs and diabetic shoes. i was constantly nervous with an upset stomach.

the night before i left, i was awakened by him coughing violently. mom got up and rushed him to the doctor at 7 in the morning. and i imagined what it was like living day to day like that. and i understood why she's so angry at having to take care of him- keep track of his pills, clean up his spills, rub down the callouses he can't feel on his feet, try to limit the crap he eats, etc.

so that was christmas 2006- in the geriatric, alcohol-food addiction ward at my dad's house
i don't have the stomach for dealing with sick or old people. it makes me a nervous wreck.
and now i'm talking with my brother about interventions- conversations i didn't expect to be having for years.

Mental Meanderings

LA Blows
miles per hour does not apply here
more like minutes per mile
today it took me 30 mintues to drive 5 miles
maddening
i'm so done with LA
no wonder there is so much road rage here
aside from the traffic, this city is filthy with no heart
everyone's selfish bad mood and the constant trash all over the streets gets depressing

i was talking today with a coworker about what i'll do when i get back from my trip
told him, i donno. while i'm away, i hope to god to finally have some epihany about what the hell to do with my life
and the direction of 'what to do next' will be obvious
he told me, 'you should sell your car and move to NY'
and that idea really took up roots in my brain
NY has been talking to me lately
it was always in the plan
i don't know how i got so far from it
no one in the world loved NY more than me, growing up
and lately i've been wanting to visit so badly
i could so see going there next
i'm SOOO over driving and traffic
god, how great to not have to drive
and to have a city with heart
only problem with that, except for the impossible cost of living of course, is that i've gotten pretty into outdoor stuff. can't see where there'd be an outlet for that stuff there.
but we'll see

maybe my whole life will be just about running off and doing things i wish i would've done in my 20s.
lonely but filled with adventure......

new topic.
Heroin sucks
i hate it
fucking life-sucking shit
g is going down that road again
last time i begged and pleaded and tried to get her not to do it, naively thinking that ANYTHING i would do or say would matter, thinking that i could care enough to make a difference
but i now realize that it doesn't matter how much i care
doesn't matter what i do or say
I don't matter
nothing i can say will get her to see that she is too bright, unique and amazing to throw her life away to some stupid drug
that just blows
i feel helpless
and somewhat upset that sentiments of anonymous strangers seem to mean more to her
oh well

she said something so profound. she said, 'i don't want the rest of my life to happen to someone else.'
that the last 13 years have been a blur.
god, i could cry buckets over that.
you know, at least she has a good reason for that. the death of a love
what the hell is my excuse? my life is unlived, miserable and boring, for no particular reason at all

the bus is revving up here- big time

I Want List

i want...

a husband just like ferris-
a passionate happy, healthy relationship
someone to cook for me
weekly massages
a house with hardwood floors, uncluttered, sparse and simple, full of color
to feel happy and content, and have good feelings instead of rage, misery, and impatience coursing through my system at all times
to not feel so bitter and envious of everyone else
to feel like what i want and need is within my reach/ that i am capable of getting them
to feel self-sustaining and capable of supporting myself
an existence where i don't have to drive much/ where driving doesn't suck so much
to make a difference; to matter
to have a tight knit group of close friends and an active social life
to never worry about or spend another birthday or new years alone (or any other holiday, for that matter)
to live in a city i love- earthy, green, warm, clean, with culture and heart
to travel every inch of the globe (well, except maybe antartica)
to do cappoeira and ice skating regularly
to learn salsa dancing
to get back down to and stay at 115 lbs
to regain the flexibility of my youth
to be active and exercise regularly
to figure out how to make a living doing something i love that pays very well and gives me the freedom to not have to work for anyone else
to be confident and secure in myself around people / not shy- eliminate the anxiety
to like meeting with and hanging out with other people
to be an inspiration
to get up in the morning and look forward to my day
to travel often
to camp and hike and do active adventurous things often
to get over my committment phobia
to be confident and happy and secure
to feel like everything is handled
to be able to afford a brand new prius and a really nice apt when the time comes (with exposed brick and hardwood floors)
to be flirted with by the cute guys
to know what the hell to do with my life and the courage to do it
to live by my principles and not sell out

I Don't Do Mediocrity

so i had a small bit of an ephinany this morning
i know i'm always angry, and i'm so frustrated by that
i don't understand what the hell i'm so angry about
except that my job drives me crazy
but i realized it's A LOT to do with this job
not just this job
but every job i've ever had
and it's because i always KNEW i would do something huge
i would "show them"- the people, namely my parents, who never believed in me, and the kids at school who treated me like a lower life form just because i sported more hair than the missing link.
probably because no one did believe in me, i determined for myself that i would make a difference, save the world, be loved by all, etc etc
i think in retrospect, that was a backlash to feeling like i never mattered
by being kicked around. i told myself, 'they don't know how special i am; how amazing i am; well, i'll show them!'
i couldn't wait to get let free to leave them in the dust
well, this life i have going was NEVER in the plan
working for a local newspaper?
i'm pissed.

i'm resentful of everyone at my job that i'm there
sounds kinda arrogant, but i was born to be so much more than this.
i was destined to do so much more with my life. that's why people like julia and linda set me on fire
they are living in that plane that i should be operating in

and then it hit me,
i hate my job because i'm always battling 1/2 ass work and mindset, incompetece, lack of work ethic and complete apathy.
everyone who works there does so because they're too damn lazy to work their ass off at a real job. because no one else would pay them for the pitiful lack of effort they put out.
and here's the thing,
I JUST DON'T DO MEDIOCRITY
that's why i got into a fight with my boss over satan. i told him he's not doing anything. well, he didn't want to hear that, but he's wasting his money by paying that guy to jack off all day. that's wrong on so many levels. A) he's taking advantage of the boss' trust in him to do his job while he's not looking B) because he's not doing his job, i have to do it, leaving him more time to play around. C) he doesn't care anymore, and it's obvious to me, but obviously not to the boss.
i can't stand to be around people who have no conscience and no work ethic. i literally could not sit there and surf the net, waste all my day chatting on IMS when i was supposed to be making sales calls. i could not do goof off if my numbers were in the toilet and my job wasn't getting done. and i hate being around people like that, especially when they are getting paid to do nothing, and since they are not doing anything, that means, i have to do what they are getting paid to do.
and i hate spending my time doing work that means nothing to me. i mean, who cares about a local paper?
i don't even believe in or like newspapers.
that job is all about mediocrity (every one i've ever had has been). and i don't do that. i can't sit there and watch my boss throw away his money on incompetent pricks who spend all day IMing and surfing the net. i can't watch them trade paying accounts on stupid trades and whims.
mediocrity doesn't work for me.

On Being OK

not sure i've ever felt this, so i donno if i even know what it looks like, but instead of just concentrating on what's miserable, let's try to look at it from a new angle.
i'm afraid i'll never be "ok". well, what would that look like if i had a fairy godmother grant me that wish?
what does 'being ok' look like?
i'd be married to the most amazing guy just like my environmental boy. so in love with him that i couldn't wait to come home everyday to see him. i would love who he is in the world, what he stands for, how he is with people, how he spends his time, who i am with him, who we are together. he would treat me like gold. adore me and respect me. we would have a happy relationship.... i could go on and on.
a wonderful, happy intimate relationship with a cute guy who is my husband.
money would be handled. i would be able to support myself nicely. be able to afford a prius, a house, and trips. there would be lots of travel, adventure, camping trips, time for hobbies. i would feel comfortable around people. socially comfortable.
i would have friends. i would feel loved, wanted, accepted. part of a group. i would feel like i'm doing something with my life. useful. i would live according to what i believe.
i wouldn't be scared all the time.
i'd be confident. feel like everything was handled. the opposite to how i feel now where there is total lack of everything i want and need and i feel powerless to get it. money, guy, friends, supporting myself, job i like, etc.
i would feel content. i would laugh. there wouldn't be anything to figure out or to worry about.
i would feel relaxed and free. i would do what i want. i wouldn't feel like there were a million obstacles in the way of getting what i want.
right now people are simply a great big nuisance. they are in my way. on the road, at my job. preventing me from something, aggravating me. i'm trying to get home (free) to spend MY time how i want it. they are in the way. doing my job, their incompetence and annoying behaviors piss me off. if i felt like i had everything i needed, i might feel freer and more at peace with people. if i weren't such in 'get out of my way' mode, i'd be more content w/ people.

money is a big one. 2 fucking things have been the curse of my life: hair, and figuring out what to do for a living.
it always comes back to that. everything would or could fall into place if i could just figure out how to support myself with something i didn't hate.

Maladjusted

i'm feeling maladjusted
without much hope that things will ever be better
what did i put in that fears box at burningman?
i'm afraid that no one will ever love me
and
i'm afraid i'll never be ok

i see these shiny happy people wandering around
and yes, they are the ones with the shiny new car, which i can't see how i'll ever be able to afford
and the ones with the gorgeous 2 karat rock on their finger
they are bubbly and smiling
and i wonder if they have to deal with the shit i have to deal with
kindof the chicken vrs the egg question
did they become shiny happy because nothing bad has ever happened to them and they live in a candy-coated world?
or did they get all these great things because they are happy people?

i mean, do they deal with traffic?
jobs they hate?
nasty coworkers?
vet bills and not being able to afford social lives?

i doesn't matter i guess. it's not their lives i'm trying to fix. it's mine
i'm angry and scared and lonely
still
feel an extreme lack of everything

where was it that the fork in the road went straight to hell? it must've been a subtle sign post, because i missed it
probably looking down at the ground in fear of someone teasing me if i looked up!

i know that the gate was opened for me when i graduated HS
the oppression was over- mostly
but why couldn't i fly ?
was it like the baby elephants at the circus, who after being tied by a chain they couldn't break as a youngster, no longer are able to break free mentally even when they have the physical strength?
i think so

what messages did i graduate with? what was the indoctrination i was sent on my way to face the world with?
um... that i'm a freak of nature. that something is wrong with me, that i'm so unloveable that my own mother can't love me. that i'm stupid. that i don't fit in anywhere. that if i speak up or let anyone notice me, i'll get teased. that i'm incompetent, that nothing i do is ever good enough. that money is a struggle. everyone is always after your money. that work sucks, and you do it because you "should". that i was a nuisance, an unwanted obligation. that people who you let get close to you will betray you and hurt you. to not trust anyone. that i'm ugly. that no one wants me. that boys are assholes who find me repulsive and non-human, forget attractive.

now how does all that translate to what i'm dealing with now? to the sucky life i keep creating?
i mean, it's ridiculous to think that someone with all that drilled into her brain and then finally let loose, could break free from it and suddenly think the world is a shiny happy place full of opportunity and nice people. really, everyone critizices me for my anger, but christ. where was i supposed to go with that? how was i supposed to discard everything i was ever taught to create a reality i didn't even know existed? people have done it. maybe they are stronger or more visionary. i mean, look at oprah, she's not crabbing about how shitty her childhood was. how did she do it? more importantly, how do i do it?
how do i believe that people are good and worth of trust? that i am capable, smart, and attractive enough that someone will want to date me? that i can do whatever i want? when all i see is evidence to the contrary?

FRUSTRATED in my hamster wheel.

More angry ramblings

shitty day at work
not as shity as i thought it would be
or in a different way i guess
worked through lunch and was 1/2 hour over
didn't get in a fight with satan, surprisingly
but with the boss -over satan

he doesn't want to hear about how his instant messenger is so friggin loud that it sounds like it's coming from my computer, when in fact, it's in the next room!!!
or how i'm doing his job while he plays around on that all damn day

aggravating to no end
but what can i do about it? he's the boss
you know?
why do i care?
satan can't even put together a runsheet once a week
can't or won't take the time to take out expired ads
has no idea what's running when
his desk is piled 2 feet tall in disorganized papers

knowing all that, what does boss man do?
he decides to put him in charge of legal notices!
these are the ones that have to run specific dates
have to be typed or written just so- in black ink,
very precise. involves a good amount of filing and keeping shit together
hello???
does anyone else see this coming?

whoooo saaaaaaa
i'm fucking sayin'

on the other hand, i'm tired of everything sucking so much
tired of the constant frustration i live in
my mother does just this- gets frustrated at the incompetent people she was working with,
and look at what a nut case she is. or how ridiculous it seems to the rest of the world, that she gets so worked up over things like this
i don't want to be like that
i mean, it IS his company. it's not my problem if he wants to keep the biggest boob in on the planet working there, or promote him, no less

i don't know.
why can't things be different?

HOME

i was driving home from a christmas party tonite, and grabbed a cd out of the case. it was alphaville, forever young.
that's an extremely dangerous song to play, but i felt pretty emotionally even- tempered and thought i could handle it without crying. wrong

you see that song brings me back to a magical time- my 8 weeks at Interlochen Arts Camp, 1988
i was "one of the rest of us" for the 1st time in my life. part of a group. one of the campers of cabin 16.
forever young was our cabin song.
and i just realized tonite as i was listening to the lyrics. it says 'forever young, i want to live forever. forever young.'
and how fitting that is, because that song activates the place in my brain where that experience has been captured, picture perfect, for all time. that experience, that time in my life, has been forever preserved in my memory- somewhere in my mind, i will always be that naive 16 year old-experiencing all that for the 1st time. forever young.

that time. that experience.....
it was so pure, so sweet, so full, so happy. i could've lived my whole life in that space.

and it suddenly occured to me,
that was home.
good god, i realized tonite
THAT
WAS
THE
ONLY
PLACE
I HAVE
EVER
FELT
HOME

i remember 1st getting there. the food was dreadful. the uniforms were so dorky. no tv. it was cold at night. it was uncomfortable on many levels. all the comforts of home were gone.
pretty much, at 1st we missed everything about home. all the creature comforts. it was my first experience without tv. with only a 2 shelves and a locker.
and then i remember, by the end, we didn't care about any of those things. our clothes, tv, all the stuff back home- didn't matter one bit. it was the music, the nature, the conversations with each other. we laughed, we cried, we held each other and had philosophical conversations, we grew, we challenged and inspired each other, we strove to be the best. it was life in it's purest form.
interlochen took away all our comforts- those distractions we thought we needed, so we could focus on the art and what was really important. and that became home. and then just as quick, in 8 weeks, they ripped me out of my new life, and dumped me into the nightmare from which i came

i miss it.
it was magical
and now when i hear that song, it brings back the sweetest spot.

i did something tonite after i got home that i've been debating about for a long time.
i found her email address. can't believe i paid $32 and i didn't even get her real email. how ridiculous. sounded like i was gonna get more info, but oh well
i emailed her. told her i still think about her. we'll see.

what's wrong with me anyway?
kinda sad that i miss her friendship when she probly doesn't even remember i exist.
oh well

2 words: hair SUCKS

i hate my hair i hate my hair i hate my hair i hate my hair i hate my hair i hate my hair i hate my hair i hate my hair i hate my hair I HATE my hair i hate my HAIR i hate my hair I HATE MY HAIR I HATE MY HAIR I HATE MY HAIR I HATE MY HAIR I HATE MY HAIR I HATE MY HAIR I HATE MY HAIR I HATE MY HAIR I HATE MY HAIR I HATE MY HAIR I HATE MY HAIR I HATE MY HAIR

not even close to expressing this sentiment
maybe breaking a big piece of expensive glass into a million shattered pieces repeatedly would come close. i doubt it.

i wish to fuck i could figure out what goddam gene mutated while i was being conceived or what body system is on overdrive when it comes to producing hair. but i'm sick to fucking death of it
hair on the carpet
ALL over the carpet, so much so that the beige carpet looks black
all over the bathroom floor, and the sink
spent now 2 hours dealing with it today, even tho i just got a haircut less than a month ago
sat on the bathroom floor with a scissors, thinning shears and a comb. thanks to my $550 vet expenses this month, haircut went right out the budget. isn't it always something
so after an hour of cutting like some possessed woman trying to carve out an alien, there is hair all over me, the floor, the newspaper, the bathmat, and the towel. sweep it up, sweep again. then dye my graying hair. then wash it
2 hours in total of my saturday, thank you

and then there's the hair on my arms that i have to wax every month. pluck the eyebrows that look like they would cover up my eyes if i didn't
then the icing on the cake, the $7500 i've spent on laser hair removal to absolutely no fucking avail. sure it takes it off. i don't have to shave. sadly, it's worth it right there compared to the 2x per day i was shaving. but it comes right back, strong as ever, not even phased. so it means, i guess, that instead of a car payment, i'll have a $300 laser payment every month for the rest of my life.

why? i swear, if there is anything to karma, i will come back as a cute little blonde with 2 hairs on my body. hair on my head so thin that people pity me. 'oh my goodness, you poor thing, you're hair is so thin'. but i will say, 'hell, no, it's WONDERFUL'.

i hate my hair
the time, money and effort i spend on keeping this freak show at bay is insane! i'm sick of it

The Looney Bin

i realize that i carry so much frustration and stress in my body, and i don't quite know what to do with it, but days like today make me realize how much of it is caused my the insanity i put up with on a daily basis at my job- a.k.a- the looney bin.

the art director is leaving, so i was next in line to pitch in, which i don't mind; in fact, i need the money. so today my new responsibility started. the only problem is that it involves working with satan, a guy who makes my flesh crawl just by his sheer presence, not to mention his abominating personality, or lack thereof. so that whole scene was tense, to say the least. he saw me doing it, got all pissed off, and stormed into the boss' office to complain. not abnormal for him, by the way.

then, lucy-fur, the office gossip/backstabber/control freak, who had her hours (thank god) cut to 2 days a week was there today, looking like a fish out of water. she was just standing around, evesdropping, or so it seemed, probably reeling from the lack of control she now has.

the boss was a little cranky. he found out that another employee, who is starting his own publication, is using some of his employees on the new venture. that didn't go over too well. then there's the tech guy installing and uninstalling monitors in the midst of all this, leaving boxes all over the floor. and finally, the freaky energy bouncing off the walls, as if some lunar activity was possessing everyone in the office.

and then there's the usual stuff that makes a sensical intelligent person with any shred of work ethic want to start drinking heavily or breaking office furniture over people's heads.

case in point: first thing yesterday, i am welcomed to work with an email full of accusations from the headbitch (sales rep) that i haven't paid her commissions on 35 ads. nevermind, she's maybe caught 1 mistake i've made in 3 years. the rest are all hers. nevermind that she phrases the questions as accusatory statements: "i haven't been paid on". nevermind that i have $50,000 worth of billing to get out. let me drop everything and work on your neruotic paranoia. nevermind that it's a total waste of my time, and that 1/2 of them she's already asked me about and i've already answered. i especially love finding that it was her lack of note-taking that was to blame. today she welcomed me nicely with a voice mail so bitchy that i deleted it halfway through- complaining about me asking her for contracts i was missing. toxic and selfish. no wonder i have to stuff my face with a mocha frappuchino every morning just to gear up for this crazy place.

which brings us to gumby, our sales rep who couldn't sell ice in a heat wave. god bless him; he's so nice, but so in the wrong field. Instead of getting his advertisers to sign a month long contract and getting payment up front, he runs around to 10 different places each week, on deadline day, collecting (hopefully) the money for one more week. same chump who just ran an ad without contract or payment in our big supplement. who does shit like this??? his favorite words are, "he's good for it".

social butterfly, who's usually cool in my book, because she is the only sales rep who bothers to get pre-payment for almost all her ads, was even on my shit list today. she ran an ad last week, without bothering to notice that their contract was expired. so now we may be out that money. being the collections person, it feels like working my ass off to collect every little penny, while walking behind someone who is throwing money on the sidewalk.

and then there is satan, who has 2 ads without payment on the AR report already. today he hands me a piece of paper with a credit card and an amount to charge of $645, sans rundates or signature. i email him that we need a signature. his response? "she's cool". that was so fucking hysterical, i had to laugh- it was that or get a gun. i swear. oh, far be it for ME, the accounts receivable/ credit manager to tell YOU what our credit policy is.
thanks for informing ME. that's rich. on so many levels!!!
so i joked with the art director,
oh, we have a new credit policy. visa, mastercard, or are you cool? what a joke this place is.
by the time i get to leave for the day, i feel like so my hostility is stuffed into my body and brain that i have to detox!
this place could be a research facility for the mentally insane!
whooo- saaaah