Monday, October 29, 2007

Art School or Jail, your choice

This weekend I noticed graffiti all over the outside of my apartment complex, the fence nearby, various cars parked on the street and pretty much any inanimate object that was unfortunate enough to be standing still. I'm convinced that had there been a napping cat or other living creature in a momentarily stationary stance they too are now covered in gang tags. I was annoyed but this happens sometimes. At least the graffiti wasn't accompanied by the normal stripped cars and piles of shattered glass.

I live in the kind of apartment building that you have to be 'buzzed' into. I like to exist in a pretend state where I imagine that none of the bad guys ever get into my complex. I still case my apartment every night, pepper spray in hand, but I don't think I'd sleep if I knew how easy it is to get into the building overall. This morning at 6 am I got into my elevator, humming a jaunty morning tune, healthy lunch in hand and smart outfit on, only to be greeted by some lovely tag art ALL OVER THE ELEVATOR.

Some jackass had drawn on the whole inside of MY ELEVATOR.


Isn't it enough that the whole neighborhood is covered in spray paint? Did someone really have to get into my building and tag the inside? Or better yet, does it really help that some tagging jackass lives in my building? Now I have an overwhelming urge to buy quadruple padlocks for my door and start carrying a gat, not just pepper spray.

That, or spray paint. Because I'd rather join them than be beat by them.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007


Anyone out there know anything about reformatting a Dell Dimension 2400?


I can't find the right driver for the display. The fonts are blurry and weird looking. I also can't find the driver for the speakers in the monitor. That is not as bad as the display issue. I've tried Dell support and every google search on EARTH and after five hours I'm ready to cry/smash computer to bits.



Andy: Macs are pretty and all (look at the colors!) but I can't afford one and also no business on earth uses them. Which sucks. What also sucks? Spending five days formatting a computer that doesn't belong to you. Gah.

Sally: Thank you for the offer. I actually learned quite a bit reformatting the dell so now I think I'll be able to better handle my laptop. Read: Moving to cave in Siberia where computers don't exist.

Cholly: I actually reformatted the whole hard drive. And as it turns out I just need to have one freaking grain of confidence in myself because I did the whole thing right, I was just working with a non-native monitor and had to change the resolution. Sometimes I hate that I don't trust myself.

Hollowsquirrel: I laughed so hard I inhaled Bacardi and cranberry into my brain at your comment.

CEO: {{{love}}}}

So@24: Try some Bacardi and Cranberry. It totally helps.

Thank you for the input guys. I was without my own (now beloved) laptop for several days while I reformatted a PC for my family. As it turns out I am a computer GENIUS but have no confidence what so freaking ever and couldn't trust that I did it right. I would up showing it to the tech guys at work and both garnered respect and also may have shown some major vulnerability because after they looked at it they were like "what were you worried about?" and I was like "I have no faith in my abilities" and they were like "but you are so brilliant when it comes to Simpsons quotes" and then we all laughed and laughed.

Can I hide now?

Saturday, October 20, 2007


My mom, a lovely and intelligent woman who never leaves the house, is convinced that there is a family curse on her side. If you examined her family from the outside looking in you would see that as highly possible. What I see is a long line of depressives, schizophrenics and alcoholics. Curse? Perhaps. However, such behavior and traits do not bring on happy things, ergo, I can see why they are convinced that they are "cursed". Several hundred years ago I imagine our clansman sitting around a cave drinking fermented grass juice and feeling woe about the overall state of things while the other clansman were out with Braveheart actually doing something about their situation.

It bothers me that my mom thinks she is cursed. Life is frustrating and trial-some and sometimes downright horrible, but just because you seem to be load balanced with an unfair share doesn't imply that one of your ancestors kicked a witch while she was down. I think it implies that life is a bitch; so deal with it. Well, I would, if sometimes I didn't feel cursed too.

I can write off the majority of bad things that happen in my mom's life as being totally random, and therefore not worth consideration, or totally relational cause and effect. Live a life focused on the negative and that is all you will see. I'm not going to go all "Secret" on you but even if there is no relation between positive thinking and good things, I would rather live a life with happy thoughts and crappy stuff than negative thoughts and crappy stuff. You can't change the crappy stuff but you can change the way you feel when you wake up in the morning. This is WAY easier said than done because somewhere in my nature, perhaps the genes from my mother's side, I have been programmed to be infinitely and interminably negative. It is my number one fault, a huge cripple, and severely depressing.

Perhaps that is the answer. My mother's family is not truly cursed: they are negative. I don't need a degree in, well, anything to tell you that negative people are unhappy people, unhappy people feel the brunt of their 'bad' decisions worse, and unhappy people lead unsatisfied lives. This isn't rocket science. It is common sense.

When my mother says something with an air of resignation in regard to "the curse" I react with anger and misery. "It isn't the curse damnit!" I want to scream, it is either random or due to negativity, and the only way to cope with it is to keep going forward. Don't dwell, don't let negative thoughts get the better of you, always look on the bright side of life! I cannot do this, however, because that may very well be the pot calling the kettle black. (Why do those two have an ages long rivalry?)

I am not responsible, no matter how hard I try, for anyone's happiness but my own. None of us are. That is likely the second greatest lesson I must learn. I cannot control anyone, nor the outcome of any situation. The only person I can lift the curse off of is myself. If only I knew a good witch doctor, I would be set.

I'm a full fledged adult now, damn wrinkles an all, and though I love my mother dearly along with my whole family, I need to distance myself and start living like an adult. Sure, I've been paying bills and being responsible for years, but there is much more to being an adult that resigning oneself to a 9-5 prison and settling in a city you don't particularly care for. There is the matter of actually growing up. And not being cursed.

Is there anyone in your life that carries a curse? Do you? How do you view it or deal with it? Should I start carrying crystals and sage around?

Thursday, October 18, 2007

Bacardi, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways...

How could one little needle hurt so much? Yikes! The flu shot I was administered yesterday has left me in a state of agony. I can't rotate my neck, my jaw aches and my arm is downright throbbing. It is ONE LITTLE NEEDLE. I could stab myself anywhere on my body with an ice pick and I doubt I could even come close to this pain. And never mind google, not only am I evil because I buy into the government inoculation conspiracy but I'm also THIS CLOSE to death; as apparently millions of people per year die within moments of receiving a flu shot.

The only thing that can kill this kind of pain?

Rum and Cranberry juice.

That's right.

In other news the tally for Halloween Costume suggestions is as follows:

Bartender (how does one dress for this?)
Secretary of State
Giant Cranberry
Alice in Wonderland (not slutty!)
Olympic Swimmer
Payroll Princess
Eris, Goddess of Discord (which, come now, I am this everyday)

The CEO has been all over this costume thing. You should go say hi, and tell him he should go as an Olympic swimmer for Halloween, as I imagine a person who suggests that is very toned, very tan, and does not live in a state where is snows.

Also, Anonymous has stopped by a bit, and I quite like them. Too bad they are anonymous. I think it may be a girl since last year they were the Payroll Princess, but you know what? That is a sexist assumption. So hello Anonymous! Have fun stealing candy from children this year!

You guys need to think more evil, Secretary of State not withstanding. Something witchy/warlocky/unholy undead-y.

Female grim reaper maybe? How would one dress for that?

Wednesday, October 17, 2007


The unscheduled lapse in my internet connection has been indefinitely postponed so I'm back! Again! Even though I was hardly gone! Yay!

Like all two of you care.

I must relate the following: Two weeks ago I decided to pick myself up some libations so I settled on Vodka and Tonic, my preferred drink choice, and wandered into a grocery store. Once there I had a powerful craving for vitamin C so I decided to go with Vodka and Cranberry Juice instead. I grabbed the first clear bottle of alcohol that I recognized, some Ocean Spray, and was on my way. At home I found the drink to be surprisingly tasty, I thought "Hey, Vodka Cranberries are surprisingly good" and drank up the whole bottle in this fashion over the course of about ten days. This Monday roles around and I decide again, that since the drinks were so good, I'd grab myself some more vodka. I went to the same place, grabbed the same bottle of clear alcohol, and was on my way. It wasn't until last night that I bothered to notice the bottle: Bacardi. Not only am I a drunk but I'm also a stupid drunk, I've been drinking rum this whole time.

Can I just say, however, that clear bacardi and cranberry juice is quite tasty? You should try it sometime. I know I'm a convert.

Anyone figure out what I should be for Halloween yet?

Monday, October 15, 2007

Due to unforseen circumstances I will again be without computer access for upwards of a week.

In my absence think happy thoughts and hug your loved ones.

Sunday, October 14, 2007

Right or Left?

I cannot get the image to turn counter clockwise. No matter what I do.

Thank you Meg, for making my left brain seem pathetic and my right brain super huge.

Not Easy Like Sunday Morning

So, last night was FUN. And by fun I mean, of course, an extravaganza of crap.

Are your loved ones crazy? Hell bent on hurting each other and ruining their lives? Prone to calling you hysterical at 1 in the morning from a city two hours away and demanding that you come fix their (very real) problems? Have you even spent the wee hours of the morning alone contemplating calling the cops and or perhaps changing your phone number? Are your loved ones trying to kill you via means of slowly driving you mad? No? Then we have nothing to talk about. Moving on.

Due to the response I've received of late regarding my last few posts I feel I need to clarify some things: I was never a meth addict myself. In fact, I have never done an illegal drug in my life, including pot. Whereas the support I received for overcoming my addiction was very sweet and heart felt I feel I need to clarify. When I pointed out the parallels of my life with the girl I met up with for coffee I was referring to things like similar family backgrounds, having had the same surgery several times each and overall an aura of failure and doom that follows me, us, around like a sad little rain cloud.

To my recollection, according to a Rainbow Bright album I had once, if I sing "Paint a rainbow, inside of you, paint a rainbow, let the sun shine through! When it's cold and grey push the clouds away, paint a rainbow in your heart" then the little sad cloud should go away. I must not be doing it right. In between the friends that have passed and the friends who have become deathly ill over the last few years on top of my family self combusting in a brilliant and heart-breaking manner, my medical problems, subsequent debt and depression, I feel that Rainbow Bright is not entirely strong enough. I don't need to paint a rainbow. I need to fucking harness a rainbow and force it into a jar that I wear around my neck. I'll get right on that.

I need to take a shower now and then perhaps drag my comforter with my into my closet and hide for a bit. In theory hiding in my closet does sound nice, but in practice it isn't so much fun. I'll probably just take a nap seeing as how I technically got three hours sleep last night and have been up since the wee hours.

So, to be totally superficial and distract you from above: What on earth should I be for Halloween? I'm all tapped out on ideas and I need you to do my thinking. And no, I do not want to be Rainbow Bright.
Okay people! It is 2:30 AM. Why aren't you online to chat? I figured at least someone in the UK might be around. Sheesh.

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Still No Title

I've been able to process a bit more since last night and I've come up with some conclusions:

The girl I met is likely a meth addict

There but for the grace of God go I


No Matter What, If You Have All Your Teeth You Will Always Be Okay

Today is her birthday and last night I told her I would meet up for a drink or something small if she wanted to. I did try to make it clear that I go to be very early on weeknights because I work so early the next day but I don't know if she would have picked up on it since, in between her non stop talking, twitching and jittering I am not sure that she picked up on much. It is about six my time and I am sorta hoping she doesn't call, only because I have a distinct feeling that she would show up high or wind up leaving our meeting to get high with her abusive ex husband who is not really her ex husband because although he is a meth addict and wanted on several warrants for his arrest she can't bear to serve him with divorce papers yet even though she has already had relationships since their "breakup." Yikes.

I am not about to leave anyone alone on their birthday, especially when they seemed so excited to be offered with a chance to do something, but I also think that this may turn out yucky no matter what. If she does call I will make an effort to go, provided it isn't eleven at night. If she doesn't call then I will hope that she is off surrounded by caring people who value and love her and aren't going to propagate a bad situation. As is stands I am going to change into okay clothes and meet up with another long standing engagement I have on Wednesday nights and after 8:30 I'm thinking the phone should go off, because that is just too late for me. If she hasn't called by now (I left her a message about two hours ago) then she probably won't call, right?

The thing is, I worked really insanely hard to get my crap together. The majority of what happened I had no control over, and though it has been hard as hell I've managed to do okay. But I wanted out. I wanted to be okay. I don't think she does. She talked about how she hadn't seen the abusive "ex" for months then let it slip that she'd just been there last week. I understand abusive relationships very well and no external influence will get you out until you want to be out. She doesn't want to be out yet. She is a nice girl but she just isn't there yet. Explaining what I had to do and how I got out may not make much a difference, but if she calls, I'll meet her for a drink. Of course, a drink may not be the best idea...

I hope she winds up okay. I hope I wind up okay. I hope we all wind up okay. I'll keep you posted.


It is now nine my time and I never heard from her. If she really wanted to meet up she had my number. Let us hope that there isn't a strange backlash at work (she is the daughter of a supervisor, remember?).

I'm going to bed.

Tuesday, October 9, 2007

No title

I met for coffee. It was eye opening. I'm still not processing it.

How is it that two people could have such similar experiences and wind up so different?

All I ever, ever do is beat myself up. I'm a failure. I'm overweight. I'm a social retard. I'm unlucky. My life is pathetic.

It isn't. I'm not. I'm stupid for getting caught up in those thoughts, ever. I'm blessed. I'm lucky. And even though there are people I know who are living in New York city and flying to Paris every other weekend, living a movie perfect life, MY life is pretty damn good.

I'm not discounting the hell I've been through, or am going through, or how much I struggle (perceived or real) but the fact is I fared pretty damn well.

I've overcome major medical issues.

I've dug myself out of a debt hole so big that I didn't think there was an end, and now, I can see one faintly in the distance.

I have an apartment.

I have a family (as hard as that is right now).

I've managed to scrape together a few friends.

I have a job. I am damn lucky to have a job.

I measure my worth based on the people who have more than succeeded, and I also have this secret fear that if I allow myself to be happy with what I've got somehow I've failed or God will take it away from me. If I'm always miserable God can't punish me anymore, right? Things can't get any worse? Right?

The girl I met for coffee has had a life eerily similar to me. Same medical problems. Same debt problems. Same crippling set backs that seem cruelly unfair and insurmountable, yet, I sit in a damn nice apartment surrounded by things like furniture and books and clothes and internet and she didn't quite fair the same. Our lives do drastically diverge in several huge areas but short of that I could be in a very, very different place. It is odd, and I haven't really processed it yet. She is in the same place I was a few years ago; holding on to a really bad relationship because it was literally all I had, unable to get a good job, so jacked in the credit department that I couldn't even get power in my own name (thanks to my ex roommate who still owes my 2,500 bucks) and yet today, years later, I'm doing fairly okay. What was the difference? What makes me survive and even, daresay, prosper? I still have no money, I still struggle daily with my demons, but I look around and I just know, I'll be okay. Relatively speaking.

Even though she and I have had very similar life experiences we are totally, absolutely different people. We have everything in common and yet nothing in common.

She's a nice girl who is desperately lonely, very lost, and in a bad place. I suspect that she is doing drugs. She only works part time and dissapears for days. I didn't know what to say when she said that tomorrow is her birthday and she has no one to spend it with, would I please do something with her? Was I not in exactly the same place just weeks ago? Except, still, it wasn't quite the same.

It is a bad situation and I can't get involved, I don't even think I would feel comfortable being light acquaintances, every red flag I have is going off, yet I'm stuck. I can't just not talk to her. I also can't just turn someone down on their birthday when they have no one to hang out with, even if I feel like she is going to wind up with her ex doing drugs later that night.

My whole perspective has changed, conversely, however the big issue is that I'm very conflicted, what should I do?

Monday, October 8, 2007

Right now I feel like typing "Guava"


That last post, wow, you loved that one, didn't you. The whopping zero comments in garnered is astounding. Tap Tap, is this thing on? Yikes people. I hope you're all okay. Not that I'm writing anything for the sole purpose of comments, but still. It would be nice to know that someone was out there. Hell, it would be nice if someone were online to CHAT ever. I thought that getting the internet at home would connect me more with the world. It has, in fact, had quite the opposite affect.

Ah well.

Tomorrow I am supposed to meet up with the daughter of one of my bosses for coffee. It started out innocent enough; she is the same age as me and new to town. She is supposedly looking to meet people. Or so it goes. Until I find out more of the story. Even though we are the same age she has, er, issues. She disappears for days at a time with her parent's car and money and only shows up when she needs something. It got even better when I received a surly phone call from her at work. She sounded like one of the fifteen year old girls I worked with at the psychiatric hospital; angry, lost, and mean. She also sounded like the last thing on earth she wanted was to meet up for coffee with me. It doesn't have to be this hard, you're an adult sweetie, you don't have to meet up with me if you don't want to. I know I don't want to. Better yet I find out that the night before her parents lectured her that it was time to start hanging out with better people and they basically made her call me. Let me say, the hell?

IT IS COFFEE PEOPLE, why does it always turn out to be some weird mess? Now I'm hoping that she blows me off because I don't know what I would talk about with this girl and HELLO AWKWARD, she is the daughter of my BOSS. If I'm not a good influence on her is it going to affect her father's opinion of me? I know it is my fault since I walked right into it, but really? It was just supposed to be coffee. With a new girl in town the same age as me. Now I'm fearing that she might shive me if she does show up (believe me, I heard it in her voice, I've worked with people like this before).

What am I supposed to do? What would you do? I've googled "coffee with boss' delinquent full grown daughter" but I'm coming up with nothing. I like my boss, I just don't think that the daughter and I are going to get along. If she shows up. And the last thing I need is her hating me because she believes that I am in cahoots with her dad.

Sunday, October 7, 2007

2007 is shaping up to be a drought year

Trying to find a date is about as fun and performing my own dental work. It hurts like hell, I have no idea what I'm doing, and the results are going to be horrible, painful, and last a lifetime.

It doesn't help that I'm surrounded by people who think that I must have no trouble in this department. Friends, family, co-workers and always expressing interest in my love life and making cute little comments regarding the fact that I must have no trouble in this area. This bothers me deeply because, um, what are they seeing that I'm not? Am I blind to the bevy of non serial killer men just swooning to spend time with me? Am I missing subtle hints dropped by nonexistent men that I've never seen begging to feed me lobster and tell me I look pretty? WHAT AM I MISSING?

The folks who have twenty or thirty years on me are especially bothersome in such that they are convinced that I spend my weekends stringing along dozens of love struck men who live for my every word. Never mind that these people have all been divorced AT LEAST once, if not FIVE TIMES (I am not kidding, seriously) so I am in awe of their misplaced optimism. I can't find a freaking girl to meet for coffee much less a guy to meet up for a movie.

I'm cute, sure, but I'm not turning heads. If I am it is only the thrice divorced men who were born before my mom, and even then I'm a sucker for a guy in a sweater vest with grey hair so I wouldn't turn them down. It doesn't make a difference, though, because I'm not getting any bites. I would step up my lure but I'm tired of the idea that, on top of having a career, degree, spotless home, booming social life, interesting hobbies and a great car I have to be super duper hottie with boobs up to here, makeup that never comes off and an ass to bounce quarters off of. I recently read a quote somewhere to this effect; that in the seventies you had to be cute, in this decade you have to be cute, ready for sex any time, never have a period, love giving head and be a corporate dynamo. To this I say fuck you. I also say, lose the beer gut and clean out your damn car fatty. I'm cute as hell. We're all fucking cute as hell and you are a waste of oxygen.

Even the people who know me best somehow believe that I'm out trolling for hotties wearing a "heartbreaker" T-shirt all night long. What is this? Are people trying to live vicariously through me? Or anyone under forty? Do they not understand that the highlight of my weekend is getting laundry done and that my life is more pathetic and dry than stale wheat toast?

And if they do insist that I'm such a dating fiend why the hell aren't they offering to set me up with anyone? The hell?

Thursday, October 4, 2007

Hell Fucking Yes

Here Dove, just take all my money.
You earned it.
Thank you.
Hey internet, how are you?

No, really.

How are you?

I'm okay.

Wednesday, October 3, 2007


If the good lord had intended for me to be a programmer I sincerely believe he would have given me the brains for it. So why, then, is heavy technical stuff the only thing that seems to be offered to me?

The things I'm good at, or at least inclined for, are an endless uphill struggle from hell. Yet, the things I abhor, and am no good at, are the things that seem to fall into place. At the new job they want to move me into heavy, heavy tech stuff and are opening all kinds of doors for me. SQL? Here Eris! We'll train you, certify you and let you do whatever you want! Please! We think you are brilliant! Um? YIKES.

People. I can program ATM code like it is going out of style but that was based on necessity. Remember how long it took me to figure out basic html in the old (beloved) blogger? How long it took me to build a link list in my sidebar? Now imagine me building code for a STATE WIDE system that thousands of users will depend on. Crap people Crap.

Life is weird. You set out to do one thing and it pushes you toward another. I'm an English and Spanish major working on networking.

I'll never figure this out.

Monday, October 1, 2007


To the sullen bitch who took my rent check today, didn't say hi, didn't even look up when I walked in the office and then grunted at the rent check box: The hell? When I asked if you were at least going to date stamp it or something I didn't mean to interrupt your very important brooding, I am SO SORRY that you have a cush office job while other people are starving on the streets. I am also SO SORRY that I expected YOU, the front person for my rental company, to be some semblance of friendly, if not at the very least semi polite. I swear to the heavens that if my rent check turns up missing and they try to charge me a late fee I am so getting up in your face. I've seen a few commercials for Jerry Springer, don't cross me hood rat.

To the tattooed jackass with the Napoleon complex who bagged 28 pounds of groceries into ONE FREAKING BAG (hell yes I weighed it when I got home): the hell? Um, sorry I'm a consumerist bitch that won't buy your "reusable" grocery bags and demands paper, because, guess what? I reuse the paper bags until they literally decompose all on their own. My grand kids are going to get some of my paper grocery bags as part of their legacy. Don't give me bitch-ass attitude, particularly when you are SHORTER than me, when I ask for paper freaking bags. Also don't put all of my purchases in one bag, starting with the RICE CAKES on the bottom. This isn't a competition, I know I am likely more eco friendly than you you fucking poser, so give me more than one bag for my groceries. I will so call your manager and complain because I? I can be that way. Customer service is an art Sir, and you are no artist, no matter what you think your tattoos tell the world about you.

And finally, to Britney. Baby? We gotta talk. You were blessed with two beautiful children. I know that your life has been turmoil and a mess and I also know that society more than helped contribute to it, but I pray that you, and someone else close to me much like you, find strength and grow the hell up. I would be in awe if I somehow were blessed with children, much less given all the money in the world, and as much as I just want to beat the ever living shit out of you until you "get it" at this time you are just in my prayers. They took your poor kids away for a reason sweetie, don't make it worse. You are in my prayers in a way few have ever been before. Please don't go on a drug binge and please don't try to hurt yourself. We all fuck up, that is probably the meaning of life, but that means that we have to grow. Please be safe. Please. Because if you can then someone else I know might get better too.

Also, I would be the number one hater in your anti fan club but that performance you gave? The dead, soulless, high one at the VMA's? You were a horrific train wreck but you weren't fat. I'll give you that.

Peace out.