With all of the nostalgia running through my veins, I need to step away. Away from the discs of family photos. Because if I don't they will consume me.
Let me explain. I was an odd child- bet that's a major revelation!
I would spend hours at my grandmother's house going through her jewelry box, asking what things were, and where they came from. At my other grandmother's house, it was the photo albums, jewelry box, and curio cabinet. I know all the stories. More than my mother. Possibly more than my father. About the things. Always the things. And the photos. Always the photos. Who they are. Where it was. The weather.
Sadly I was too young to ask a few questions that have come up since then- like why are there no pictures of my grandparent's wedding? Why no pictures of my grandmother pregnant? (she did have several of these occurances) These events in this particular instance appear to have happened in a void. Among endless photo static. Very odd. Perhaps those photos did exist, and in her endless scrapbooking, she discarded them as unflattering. But I don't think so. I remember going through these photos when they were in boxes, loose. And prior to editing. And there was nothing. In drastic contrast to the other grandparents. Who documented the wedding and pregnancies, and childhoods of the kids, but not themselves later on. Those pictures come from a different, more difficult source. And I have them too. The negatives. The scans. I am the conduit. I share, of course- because I am like that. But I don't even need to see the scans to be reminded. They all exist- and I go through the shots one by one. And it eats me alive if I let it.
So I shan't. Time to dive into something else for the day. Bait and switch. It actually works sometimes. Distract myself with bright shiny things. And let the slide show return later.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Friday, March 30, 2007
Just to be fair
This is my other grandmother. In my favorite picture of her. I don't own the picture (just a scan), but I do own the dresser. I think of her every time I see it.
I promised
here is Grandma when she was 5. On Lake Washington.This is the coolest picture I own. I think it says more about her character than I can ever convey.
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Easter dinner
Probably the scariest slide I've ever purchased in a thrift store...or maybe not.Yes, I'm being intentionally coy. Seems I might have a few scary images up my sleeve- if I was wearing sleeves...bwahahahaha
Took the day off
And the scariest thing of all is how desperate I am to go onto the network and check my work email. Because I fear what will be in there tomorrow when I return. But I am trying to control the anxiety. What disturbs me is that I have every appearance of being an addict. I am jonesing to get back into the system. First thing in the morning, I usually check in and see what happened over night. Because I am part of the legion who never sleep. And then I proceed to put out fires. And then I proceed to shut down, get dressed and go to work. Then I spend the day putting out fires. And then I monitor at night if I know that something important is going on. Which seems to be daily now.
So it's a big deal to me to not look. To not participate. I had to tell people yesterday that I wasn't going to be there today to carry on. And it wasn't easy. I kept trying to justify in my mind "just doing that one little thing"...But the sickness, though it appears blood borne, hasn't taken full control. I haven't done it. I haven't touched the work computer. It sits downstairs on the table balefully glowering at me. Chock full of little time bombs awaiting my attention. And there it is.
God, I love feeling so...necessary. And I need to stop it. Because it ends in June. And that is that.
So it's a big deal to me to not look. To not participate. I had to tell people yesterday that I wasn't going to be there today to carry on. And it wasn't easy. I kept trying to justify in my mind "just doing that one little thing"...But the sickness, though it appears blood borne, hasn't taken full control. I haven't done it. I haven't touched the work computer. It sits downstairs on the table balefully glowering at me. Chock full of little time bombs awaiting my attention. And there it is.
God, I love feeling so...necessary. And I need to stop it. Because it ends in June. And that is that.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Most meaningless and incomplete list ever
This is by request, and kind of under duress- because it goes against the rules. But I want to be entertaining, and respond to my readership.
Sharkjumping in progress!
Guess what I'm listing:
1. 2 Russian nesting dolls
2. 1 Japanese round doll whose eye you fill in when you want a wish to come true- color in the second when you get the wish.
3. an elephant piggy bank that I got on a roadtrip when I was 3
4. an ostrich egg that sits on a latchhook rug my sister Kim made me
5. wood boxes containing 7 different tarot decks
6. 2 HotWheels F1 2006 racing car 1:14 models (Ferrari and Renault, if you must know) and their accompanying F1 team hats (only to be worn during races, as appropriate)
7. a little Kawasaki Ninja model (not mine)
8. a little UPS truck model (mine)
9. a picture of my grandmother taken when she was 5 on Lake Washington in 1927- seen from behind (might have to scan and post- it's excellent)
10. Glittery Las Vegas dice clock that a dear friend gave me
11. 2 Enid Collins purses from the 60's (flower basket and wooden Kit Kat Klub)
12. 2 wooden elk calls that were in my Grandfather's house
13. a wooden box with Elsa the cat's ashes in it
14. a basket of rocks- shiny ones my Grandfather cut and polished, and non-shiny ones that I found at Hope Creek on the Continental Divide
15. a ceramic flamingo from the 40s (ticky tacky, the way we like it sometimes)
There. And the answer? Well. It is all the assorted crap that lives with my books on the book shelves to the right of the computer desk. Some is very personal. Some is stupid. Some is just there. But most means something. Welcome to my cluttered corner of the universe, shark jumpers, UNITE!
Sharkjumping in progress!
Guess what I'm listing:
1. 2 Russian nesting dolls
2. 1 Japanese round doll whose eye you fill in when you want a wish to come true- color in the second when you get the wish.
3. an elephant piggy bank that I got on a roadtrip when I was 3
4. an ostrich egg that sits on a latchhook rug my sister Kim made me
5. wood boxes containing 7 different tarot decks
6. 2 HotWheels F1 2006 racing car 1:14 models (Ferrari and Renault, if you must know) and their accompanying F1 team hats (only to be worn during races, as appropriate)
7. a little Kawasaki Ninja model (not mine)
8. a little UPS truck model (mine)
9. a picture of my grandmother taken when she was 5 on Lake Washington in 1927- seen from behind (might have to scan and post- it's excellent)
10. Glittery Las Vegas dice clock that a dear friend gave me
11. 2 Enid Collins purses from the 60's (flower basket and wooden Kit Kat Klub)
12. 2 wooden elk calls that were in my Grandfather's house
13. a wooden box with Elsa the cat's ashes in it
14. a basket of rocks- shiny ones my Grandfather cut and polished, and non-shiny ones that I found at Hope Creek on the Continental Divide
15. a ceramic flamingo from the 40s (ticky tacky, the way we like it sometimes)
There. And the answer? Well. It is all the assorted crap that lives with my books on the book shelves to the right of the computer desk. Some is very personal. Some is stupid. Some is just there. But most means something. Welcome to my cluttered corner of the universe, shark jumpers, UNITE!
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Why I haven't been writing as much- again
I am in the midst of an existential crisis on the blogworld, of sorts. Seems that I am in my opinion re-hashing the same damned content. Over and over. And it is starting to get to me.
Kboy likens my blogging to a cheap kind of therapy, and says that it's really cool. Probably because it means that I'm covering this stuff without having to re-hash it with him ...again...and again... The poor boy has been through it all. We've had 15 years now to go over it.
Nevertheless, I bore myself sometimes. And feel totally self-indulgent. And not in a good new pair of shoes kind of way. More in a -crap I am being a total bore- way. But part of me is so stubborn that I will no doubt persist. But consider this, fair reader, I might be throwing something different out there. Just because the narrative of my internal life/strife just isn't all that interesting, even to me after a while. And because I feel like I might start stagnating creatively if I don't push the envelope a tad.
The primary worry is that I am doing this rather than writing something more important. But since this keeps me in the flow, and I don't have anything more important looming in my life, it's something that I choose to ignore for now.
So there it is.
Kboy likens my blogging to a cheap kind of therapy, and says that it's really cool. Probably because it means that I'm covering this stuff without having to re-hash it with him ...again...and again... The poor boy has been through it all. We've had 15 years now to go over it.
Nevertheless, I bore myself sometimes. And feel totally self-indulgent. And not in a good new pair of shoes kind of way. More in a -crap I am being a total bore- way. But part of me is so stubborn that I will no doubt persist. But consider this, fair reader, I might be throwing something different out there. Just because the narrative of my internal life/strife just isn't all that interesting, even to me after a while. And because I feel like I might start stagnating creatively if I don't push the envelope a tad.
The primary worry is that I am doing this rather than writing something more important. But since this keeps me in the flow, and I don't have anything more important looming in my life, it's something that I choose to ignore for now.
So there it is.
Heavy sigh...
I've been following the Attorney General kerfluffle lately. Rather than write, I know, I know. Bad girl. Just not been as inspired as usual- more to follow on that...
But what makes me shake my head in absolute confusion and a touch of derision is that the administration obviously never learned one of the key lessons of teenagehood.
Lesson: When you get caught, just fess up and take the punishment. It'll only be far, far worse if you try to cover your ass and keep it under wraps.
I guess I have my rather stern-on-occasion father to thank for getting that one through my silly little teenaged skull. Seriously. When he busted me, and if I tried to squirm out of it, he would shout, (think tones of extreme exasperation) "Just listen to what I am saying, and don't argue! You'll be in much better shape!" Frustrating for me, because there's nothing I love more than a good argument. But the idea of shutting up and taking the lumps isn't a bad one. It tends to give satisfaction to the authority figure, and even though it can really be a pisser, it does tend to make the incident go away faster.
That's the lesson that I don't think those geniuses ever got handed to them. Guess they had the wrong daddy. If for example, they had tried for transparency in the first place, it would've been a touch uncomfortable. But now that they have been shown to be lying through their silly teeth, they look not only foolish, but deceptive. And Congress and the press hate that. Not only that, but it gives the Dems something to chew on. And to act upon. Idjits.
But what makes me shake my head in absolute confusion and a touch of derision is that the administration obviously never learned one of the key lessons of teenagehood.
Lesson: When you get caught, just fess up and take the punishment. It'll only be far, far worse if you try to cover your ass and keep it under wraps.
I guess I have my rather stern-on-occasion father to thank for getting that one through my silly little teenaged skull. Seriously. When he busted me, and if I tried to squirm out of it, he would shout, (think tones of extreme exasperation) "Just listen to what I am saying, and don't argue! You'll be in much better shape!" Frustrating for me, because there's nothing I love more than a good argument. But the idea of shutting up and taking the lumps isn't a bad one. It tends to give satisfaction to the authority figure, and even though it can really be a pisser, it does tend to make the incident go away faster.
That's the lesson that I don't think those geniuses ever got handed to them. Guess they had the wrong daddy. If for example, they had tried for transparency in the first place, it would've been a touch uncomfortable. But now that they have been shown to be lying through their silly teeth, they look not only foolish, but deceptive. And Congress and the press hate that. Not only that, but it gives the Dems something to chew on. And to act upon. Idjits.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Something in the water
From all appearances, cruelty comes easily and casually to some people. Just like picking out a pair of shoes. Just like breathing. Doesn't seem to require any effort whatsoever.
This makes me sad. Because the more of an asshole you are, the lonelier you will wind up being. Because not everyone is paid to put up with you, and generally people hate being around assholes. Just comes with the territory.
Yes, someone got under my skin today. Nothing personal, just business. Which is pure and unadulterated bullshit. The kind that is found in heaping, steaming mounds in the fields at home.
It's just always personal. Because when you shit on someone, and call it a constructive criticism, it's still shit. I don't play the emperor has no clothes game, because I'm not paid to. And see no advantage.
So there you have it. Crappy day. That's all.
This makes me sad. Because the more of an asshole you are, the lonelier you will wind up being. Because not everyone is paid to put up with you, and generally people hate being around assholes. Just comes with the territory.
Yes, someone got under my skin today. Nothing personal, just business. Which is pure and unadulterated bullshit. The kind that is found in heaping, steaming mounds in the fields at home.
It's just always personal. Because when you shit on someone, and call it a constructive criticism, it's still shit. I don't play the emperor has no clothes game, because I'm not paid to. And see no advantage.
So there you have it. Crappy day. That's all.
Monday, March 19, 2007
Quick update
For those of you who come here for the new, just the news, minus the existential crises:
Kboy is not exactly loving the job. But the adjusting is well under way. He is liking the increased pay and the knowledge that he works with cool people. And he is enjoying learning about a new industry. But it's hard. Going from something beloved and familiar to something new and very, very different.
That said, he is no baby. He will prevail. And the world shall feel his wrath! Actually, that is a joke. He lacks wrath on most days. And then when he has wrath, it's just kind of irritable and cranky. He's just too damned nice and funny to be wrathful. I guess I handle that in our home. But only in short bursts. Takes too much energy to be wrathful long-term.
So there you have it. Slowly things are evolving. Just as they are supposed to. Because things are supposed to happen. Always. Nothing is static, no? All devolves/evolves/revolves.
Kboy is not exactly loving the job. But the adjusting is well under way. He is liking the increased pay and the knowledge that he works with cool people. And he is enjoying learning about a new industry. But it's hard. Going from something beloved and familiar to something new and very, very different.
That said, he is no baby. He will prevail. And the world shall feel his wrath! Actually, that is a joke. He lacks wrath on most days. And then when he has wrath, it's just kind of irritable and cranky. He's just too damned nice and funny to be wrathful. I guess I handle that in our home. But only in short bursts. Takes too much energy to be wrathful long-term.
So there you have it. Slowly things are evolving. Just as they are supposed to. Because things are supposed to happen. Always. Nothing is static, no? All devolves/evolves/revolves.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Half life in amber
The feelings are still there- just nick the surface, and they pool out like warm blood
Days spent at home, nothing really to do.
Just sitting and reading.
Listening to albums.
Waiting.
For the mail to come- as the highlight of the day.
Because there might be letters. From someone for me.
I could then sit down and write back, right away.
Then re-read the letters. And place them in a box.
and Reread them some more.
so spending time.
And reading.
And re-reading.
And waiting.
And watching.
And wanting.
And needing.
And boredom.
And necessity.
All not really a life.
But part of a life.
Spent not really in the rest of life.
Outside of it.
Marginal.
Days spent at home, nothing really to do.
Just sitting and reading.
Listening to albums.
Waiting.
For the mail to come- as the highlight of the day.
Because there might be letters. From someone for me.
I could then sit down and write back, right away.
Then re-read the letters. And place them in a box.
and Reread them some more.
so spending time.
And reading.
And re-reading.
And waiting.
And watching.
And wanting.
And needing.
And boredom.
And necessity.
All not really a life.
But part of a life.
Spent not really in the rest of life.
Outside of it.
Marginal.
Saturday, March 17, 2007
At least the attempt is being made
Now before you get all harsh on me, just remember, I haven't devolved to the level of just putting a bunch of lists online. Things I hate. Things I love. Things I have never done, etc.
Just because I see that as the ultimate jumping the shark moment. And I don't want to do that quite yet. Surely it will happen. But hopefully in the blissfully distant future.
It has been a chore lately to get online and participate in my ongoing dialogue. Mainly because I have gotten sidetracked, and upstaged. I have also been coming down off of a 2 week adrenaline high that work inflicted on me. For the first weekend in a month I didn't bring home the computer. And I resolutely decided not to check my work email at all. And I'll just fucking live with the consequences.
Upshot- they really don't pay me to be that bloody vigilant. That's reserved for the FTEs (full time employees, to translate). And my time there grows ever shorter. And that's really ok. Because as much as I love what I'm doing, I can live without it. I did before. I drank the Koolaid, but haven't really gone all the way. Only to 3rd base. Is it really consummated without penetration? I didn't think so.
It's just a silly little dance. One step in that direction, deal with the resulting riposte. Then a firm step in another direction. No tentativeness required. Because they smell fear in the air. Then they bite, like feral little kitties. We don't need to enrage the machine. We don't need to put those ruby little drops of blood in the water. We don't want to see the shadows of the big fish with the bigger teeth circling overhead.
I just keep repeating, "there's no place like home," and clicking my ankles together. I lack sparkly shoes. I lack the requisite magic to make it all gel. I lack the hope and faith that keeps the dreams of LED lights that signify something perilous from taking over my sleep. Damned LED lights. The yellow one is particularly bad news. Don't ask, I can't tell.
Just because I see that as the ultimate jumping the shark moment. And I don't want to do that quite yet. Surely it will happen. But hopefully in the blissfully distant future.
It has been a chore lately to get online and participate in my ongoing dialogue. Mainly because I have gotten sidetracked, and upstaged. I have also been coming down off of a 2 week adrenaline high that work inflicted on me. For the first weekend in a month I didn't bring home the computer. And I resolutely decided not to check my work email at all. And I'll just fucking live with the consequences.
Upshot- they really don't pay me to be that bloody vigilant. That's reserved for the FTEs (full time employees, to translate). And my time there grows ever shorter. And that's really ok. Because as much as I love what I'm doing, I can live without it. I did before. I drank the Koolaid, but haven't really gone all the way. Only to 3rd base. Is it really consummated without penetration? I didn't think so.
It's just a silly little dance. One step in that direction, deal with the resulting riposte. Then a firm step in another direction. No tentativeness required. Because they smell fear in the air. Then they bite, like feral little kitties. We don't need to enrage the machine. We don't need to put those ruby little drops of blood in the water. We don't want to see the shadows of the big fish with the bigger teeth circling overhead.
I just keep repeating, "there's no place like home," and clicking my ankles together. I lack sparkly shoes. I lack the requisite magic to make it all gel. I lack the hope and faith that keeps the dreams of LED lights that signify something perilous from taking over my sleep. Damned LED lights. The yellow one is particularly bad news. Don't ask, I can't tell.
Friday, March 16, 2007
Once again
I find myself
in that place
buzzing, but not completely drunk
not on life, but on the real meal deal
not bad, but not completely there
because the edge has worn off
breaking the cardinal rule I set for myself
no blogging live when in this state
leads to regrettable secrets being stated out loud
and once spoken can never be taken back
even if I delete, someone, somewhere has cached it
to trot out on future occasions
to discredit and condemn.
Because uber alles, life amongst the hopelessly
narcissistic means that it's always all about them.
and never about me.
ditto me, by the way.
Narcissism as a hobby or career path.
your call.
I don't get to vote on that.
I just live with the results,
which should be comfortable enough as a member
of the American electorate without enough
money to buy my vote any real impact.
But what I meant to say before I got all distracted
has been lost along the way.
As I struggle to hit the right keys and say the right things.
And as I figure out where the thoughts went to that
seemed so profound and important and special
like the 14 year old boy who discovers
Led Zeppelin when he gets high the first time
and has a religious revelation
that he never fully recovers from
Thank God that didn't happen to me until I was 28.
Because I don't need to stay in that place forever
and can see the hilarity of being a 14 year old boy
trapped momentarily in the body of a 28 year old
female.
And like I said before, in this game, I get to be
the queen of narcisissm land. For right now.
I'll forget it tomorrow- when the Petite Syrah has
left the building. Through the pipes. Literally and figuratively.
And .......scene.....
in that place
buzzing, but not completely drunk
not on life, but on the real meal deal
not bad, but not completely there
because the edge has worn off
breaking the cardinal rule I set for myself
no blogging live when in this state
leads to regrettable secrets being stated out loud
and once spoken can never be taken back
even if I delete, someone, somewhere has cached it
to trot out on future occasions
to discredit and condemn.
Because uber alles, life amongst the hopelessly
narcissistic means that it's always all about them.
and never about me.
ditto me, by the way.
Narcissism as a hobby or career path.
your call.
I don't get to vote on that.
I just live with the results,
which should be comfortable enough as a member
of the American electorate without enough
money to buy my vote any real impact.
But what I meant to say before I got all distracted
has been lost along the way.
As I struggle to hit the right keys and say the right things.
And as I figure out where the thoughts went to that
seemed so profound and important and special
like the 14 year old boy who discovers
Led Zeppelin when he gets high the first time
and has a religious revelation
that he never fully recovers from
Thank God that didn't happen to me until I was 28.
Because I don't need to stay in that place forever
and can see the hilarity of being a 14 year old boy
trapped momentarily in the body of a 28 year old
female.
And like I said before, in this game, I get to be
the queen of narcisissm land. For right now.
I'll forget it tomorrow- when the Petite Syrah has
left the building. Through the pipes. Literally and figuratively.
And .......scene.....
Just woke up
Took a long nap. Told the boss that I was going to enjoy the afternoon off (I had plenty of hours in from earlier this week). Instead I slept. Despite the sun. Despite the daylight. I slept. I dreamed.
Now I feel fuzzy and all warm. It's kind of nice. I have some of those folds on my skin from my clothes. I look creased.
It's all I think about some days. Sleeping. Just sleeping. All weekend long. All morning long. It takes me longer than ever to get out of bed in the morning. Where it used to take 10 minutes of NPR babble, it later took 19 (had to listen to the traffic report). Now that the traffic report doesn't matter, I still listen. And then some. We're at 29 minutes. And counting. Where it's going is a mystery. I still get there at exactly the same time. Give or take 5 minutes depending on if I catch the right light at the right time.
Now I feel fuzzy and all warm. It's kind of nice. I have some of those folds on my skin from my clothes. I look creased.
It's all I think about some days. Sleeping. Just sleeping. All weekend long. All morning long. It takes me longer than ever to get out of bed in the morning. Where it used to take 10 minutes of NPR babble, it later took 19 (had to listen to the traffic report). Now that the traffic report doesn't matter, I still listen. And then some. We're at 29 minutes. And counting. Where it's going is a mystery. I still get there at exactly the same time. Give or take 5 minutes depending on if I catch the right light at the right time.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Distractions
Just a little distracted. Discovered the whole MySpace thingy. And found out that some time in the distant past (ie. I just don't remember when...not an unusual occurance) I had signed up for an account. So I cleaned it up, brushed it off, added some actual content, and opened shop.
Which means that I am now dealing with two problem children, rather than just one. So must divide and conquer, spit spot, and all of that.
Overall I must say I'm not impressed by the MySpace interface. From a professional standpoint. Not very helpful if you're an html idiot like I am. And certainly not cool to have that many ads on the home page. But it's free and we like free.
So right now, I am watching a flock of blackbirds on the wing- flying through and over the pine trees. They appear to be circling. The question arises- what would the Roman Augers predict? Especially in the shadow of the Ides of March? And with the sodden grey skies in the background, and the narrow glowing band of sunshine hitting the hills across from my window. It all bodes either ill or well. I'm neither Roman, nor am I an auger. Merely a dabbler in so many, many arenas.
And all I really want to do right this moment is crawl into bed with a book, nothing to distract me, and sleep to follow. All because the stupid clock changed, and my delicate constitution took a hit. Sleep is such a sore spot around here. If it's not ideas playing tag in the grey matter all night, it's too much coffee after 11:00 AM. Or then it's every other season. So there.
Which means that I am now dealing with two problem children, rather than just one. So must divide and conquer, spit spot, and all of that.
Overall I must say I'm not impressed by the MySpace interface. From a professional standpoint. Not very helpful if you're an html idiot like I am. And certainly not cool to have that many ads on the home page. But it's free and we like free.
So right now, I am watching a flock of blackbirds on the wing- flying through and over the pine trees. They appear to be circling. The question arises- what would the Roman Augers predict? Especially in the shadow of the Ides of March? And with the sodden grey skies in the background, and the narrow glowing band of sunshine hitting the hills across from my window. It all bodes either ill or well. I'm neither Roman, nor am I an auger. Merely a dabbler in so many, many arenas.
And all I really want to do right this moment is crawl into bed with a book, nothing to distract me, and sleep to follow. All because the stupid clock changed, and my delicate constitution took a hit. Sleep is such a sore spot around here. If it's not ideas playing tag in the grey matter all night, it's too much coffee after 11:00 AM. Or then it's every other season. So there.
Friday, March 09, 2007
The long and short of it
I am making the gut-wrenching discovery that it's harder to blog, read, watch tv, and basically do all of the important life-affirming things that I enjoy when I work. But I have also discovered that I really like the money.
What to do? What to do?
Well, I guess that playing the lotto is an option. But getting 2 numbers didn't make big things happen. Bubkus. I guess that it's about the sacrifice. Somehow, I can delude myself into thinking that I am making the world a better place by putting on a tremendous show of being a worker ant extrordinaire. All the while seething inside, just wanting to sit in front of the computer and type. And read, and watch the tv.
Kboy asked my last night why he can't just be happy and work. Why he has to examine things, and find the broken parts and fix them. I concur. And postulate that it's because we are both craftspeople. We want things to be both workable and intact. Whether we're discussing a motorcycle, or a system of delivery, or an interface. It should work and be intact. Otherwise it's a broken piece of shit taking up real estate.
I have become an expert in logistics at work. I know where things are, how to get them from a to b, and many of the details in between. This does not, however, translate to job security past June. Which both alarms and comforts me in equal measure. Would I stay? Hell yes, if offered a significant raise. Would I go? Probably will have to, so no real question there. Besides, that is entirely what I expect. Part of the whole hubris-killing experience of having this particular job has been the day to day hammering into me that my particular job isn't very important in the grand scheme of things. Despite practical examples to the contrary. But there you go. That's a whole political issue that I personally have no desire to play. Suffice it to say, they will miss me. Or someone in my capacity who knows what the fuck to do, and where to find the best places to bury the bodies, so to speak. Luck with that, I say.
Kboy and his job, you ask? Fine. Just adjusting. Lots of differences, no real roadmap of how to cope with all of the changes. But overall positive. Haven't really had a good opportunity to really discuss it with him. Just giving him space to process. Surprisingly enough, we don't actually talk all the time. It can be kind of quiet. But in a very nice way.
What to do? What to do?
Well, I guess that playing the lotto is an option. But getting 2 numbers didn't make big things happen. Bubkus. I guess that it's about the sacrifice. Somehow, I can delude myself into thinking that I am making the world a better place by putting on a tremendous show of being a worker ant extrordinaire. All the while seething inside, just wanting to sit in front of the computer and type. And read, and watch the tv.
Kboy asked my last night why he can't just be happy and work. Why he has to examine things, and find the broken parts and fix them. I concur. And postulate that it's because we are both craftspeople. We want things to be both workable and intact. Whether we're discussing a motorcycle, or a system of delivery, or an interface. It should work and be intact. Otherwise it's a broken piece of shit taking up real estate.
I have become an expert in logistics at work. I know where things are, how to get them from a to b, and many of the details in between. This does not, however, translate to job security past June. Which both alarms and comforts me in equal measure. Would I stay? Hell yes, if offered a significant raise. Would I go? Probably will have to, so no real question there. Besides, that is entirely what I expect. Part of the whole hubris-killing experience of having this particular job has been the day to day hammering into me that my particular job isn't very important in the grand scheme of things. Despite practical examples to the contrary. But there you go. That's a whole political issue that I personally have no desire to play. Suffice it to say, they will miss me. Or someone in my capacity who knows what the fuck to do, and where to find the best places to bury the bodies, so to speak. Luck with that, I say.
Kboy and his job, you ask? Fine. Just adjusting. Lots of differences, no real roadmap of how to cope with all of the changes. But overall positive. Haven't really had a good opportunity to really discuss it with him. Just giving him space to process. Surprisingly enough, we don't actually talk all the time. It can be kind of quiet. But in a very nice way.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Meanwhile back at the farm...
While some spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on Star Wars cloaks, and others buy fake limbs for the underprivileged, the world continues to spin.
On and on.
There you have it. Very few certainties, though. Only these:
Romanian wine is surprisingly tasty. Last night I polished off half of a bottle of Feteasca Neagra '99 that I saw at the store. Oddly metallic smell. But lovely to drink. It kind of snuck up on me while I babysat my email, and watched a movie. There you have it. I'll be trying many other Baltic vintages now. Because there seems to be quite a representative population of people with heavily accented voices, large bags of potatoes, cabbages and onions in their shopping carts, and multiple bottles of hooch with Cyrillic script on the label peering out around the starchy things. Ah, for the romance of the vast Steppes...
And then there's the movie. Kboy bought Stranger than Fiction, and we watched it last night. Reminded me in feel of both I Heart Huckabees and The Royal Tennenbaums. Would make a good little film festival grouped together.
And that's all. Just kind of checking in- more to get back into the habit of writing than anything else.
Gotta go watch the emails, and drink some more wine. Tasty, indeed. According to the email that my mother sent me (she's been spamming the shit out of me all week...sigh...she's my mom), there's probably either nicotine or MSG in it to make it addictive. No? Right. It's WINE. Thus it doesn't need anything else to be addictive. Duly noted.
On and on.
There you have it. Very few certainties, though. Only these:
Romanian wine is surprisingly tasty. Last night I polished off half of a bottle of Feteasca Neagra '99 that I saw at the store. Oddly metallic smell. But lovely to drink. It kind of snuck up on me while I babysat my email, and watched a movie. There you have it. I'll be trying many other Baltic vintages now. Because there seems to be quite a representative population of people with heavily accented voices, large bags of potatoes, cabbages and onions in their shopping carts, and multiple bottles of hooch with Cyrillic script on the label peering out around the starchy things. Ah, for the romance of the vast Steppes...
And then there's the movie. Kboy bought Stranger than Fiction, and we watched it last night. Reminded me in feel of both I Heart Huckabees and The Royal Tennenbaums. Would make a good little film festival grouped together.
And that's all. Just kind of checking in- more to get back into the habit of writing than anything else.
Gotta go watch the emails, and drink some more wine. Tasty, indeed. According to the email that my mother sent me (she's been spamming the shit out of me all week...sigh...she's my mom), there's probably either nicotine or MSG in it to make it addictive. No? Right. It's WINE. Thus it doesn't need anything else to be addictive. Duly noted.
Sunday, March 04, 2007
New Things to report
Kboy has a job. He was hired at a place that he interviewed with several months ago. These things apparently take time.
He is going to make more than he asked for- which means they want him. And that's good.
We went to a charity auction last night and spent big money. But without remorse. Because we will enable people to be much healthier.
It was www.pofsea.org. We love them. I was involved a bit in helping put it together. It was good. Seeing all the rich folks throwing their money out there. But more than that, it was bloody hilarious seeing the Alpha dogs battling it out over some of the auctioned items. $5000 for dinner at this one dude's house...well, then. $3000 for a partial case of wine. Well then. Ah- to have that kind of cash to throw out there...
But we agreed- for birthdays, we will get each other one nice smallish present, and then donate something largish to a charity. Because it's time to quit acquiring crap that we will have to move someday, and we see that it can actually make a difference. Christmas now, all bets are off. I still want Christmas presents. Because I'm not a fucking saint, or anything.
It was cool though- because during one part of the dinner there was one of those hold your cards up if you can donate the following amount kinds of things- like at the Academy's last year. And they raised over $100K during that part alone.
And the food was good. And the wine flowed freely for most of the evening.
And today the sun is out, and I can see the mountains from my window.
And the Chinese temple down the street is having some kind of New Year's festival. I suspect that 's what it is. I haven't gotten dressed yet and gone to investigate. But that's on the agenda. If I can rouse myself...
He is going to make more than he asked for- which means they want him. And that's good.
We went to a charity auction last night and spent big money. But without remorse. Because we will enable people to be much healthier.
It was www.pofsea.org. We love them. I was involved a bit in helping put it together. It was good. Seeing all the rich folks throwing their money out there. But more than that, it was bloody hilarious seeing the Alpha dogs battling it out over some of the auctioned items. $5000 for dinner at this one dude's house...well, then. $3000 for a partial case of wine. Well then. Ah- to have that kind of cash to throw out there...
But we agreed- for birthdays, we will get each other one nice smallish present, and then donate something largish to a charity. Because it's time to quit acquiring crap that we will have to move someday, and we see that it can actually make a difference. Christmas now, all bets are off. I still want Christmas presents. Because I'm not a fucking saint, or anything.
It was cool though- because during one part of the dinner there was one of those hold your cards up if you can donate the following amount kinds of things- like at the Academy's last year. And they raised over $100K during that part alone.
And the food was good. And the wine flowed freely for most of the evening.
And today the sun is out, and I can see the mountains from my window.
And the Chinese temple down the street is having some kind of New Year's festival. I suspect that 's what it is. I haven't gotten dressed yet and gone to investigate. But that's on the agenda. If I can rouse myself...
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