So it's all about getting back in the habits again. They were good habits, too. Like going to the gym daily. And writing daily- both here and elsewhere. And eating the right things. Though that one slid on occasion. Usually only once a week, though.

And where are we now? Not where we were. Not in a bad place, exactly- more of a holding pattern than anything else. But holding patterns are not momentum, and they are exhausting to maintain. So it's forward. That's what we're after. Forward. Into the void. Why the hell not? At least I haven't been there before. It's always a new void on a new day. Gotta be full of surprises, no? They might be subtle- like the pattern of black birds flying across the dusky sky, or the smell of damp chilly morning.

But those surprises are interesting. And often good. I'll take it. With interest.

Now THIS is good news.

From MSNBC this morning:

"It was nice and crisp gettin' off the airplane ... it reminded me a lot of Alaska, so I put my warm jacket on. And it is my own jacket," Palin said at a rally at Sioux City West High School. "It doesn't belong to anybody else."

Palin's quip came amid growing questions about her campaign and tensions among the traveling staff. The Politico reported Saturday that Palin had lost confidence in some of her senior aides and begun relying more on her own instincts.

The good news- she's relying on her instincts. I like that. Because I believe that those same instincts got her into a little trouble back in the day when she decided to act all vengeful on her ex-brother-in-law, et. al. I think her instincts aren't horribly refined, and appear a tad ham-fisted. This is very good news, indeed.

And that's probably the only political commentary I will make this election. I've been trying to stay the hell out of it. But I will make this categorical statement. I have never, nor will I ever vote for a crooked Arizona politician. That was a decision made many years ago when I lived there. And nothing has changed on that front.

If you want facts, here is a link, and an idea of where I get mine from:

http://www.phoenixnewtimes.com/1994-09-08/news/opiate-for-the-mrs/

To the vast aggravation of it all, yesterday my mentor took a good look at my resume for the first time. She is helping me revise. And she said, "just in looking at it, it's obvious that you are in the wrong job." Thank you. Thanks so very much. And I really do mean that with some sincerity. Because I was beginning to wonder.

Not that comfort isn't good- it's just deadly in my world. I am surrounded by people who do what I do, and have forever, and so on, the end. And they drive me batshit. They are often bitter. They are often chock full o' noblesse oblige. By proxy, doncha know. And I can see the appeal. It hits me sometimes.

But I know better. I know that more than one more year of this gig, and it will be very bad. Very bad, indeed. A bored me is a very unhappy me. And this has all the hallmarks of being that avenue.

So, there are job rumblings that I have to deal with, for sanity's sake. But not today. Not tomorrow. In the future, but that will rush up on me without fail. No pressure, though. No pressure.

Lately it has been that holding pattern kind of thing. Just a feeling like I'm living an intermission, rather than a real life. I think it is just the aftermath of weeks of frantic activity, and showing a calm game face, despite what is going on inside. I suspect this is so. All the adrenaline is leaving the body in a burst, and I'm left without much energy for anything at the moment. Or it's the change of seasons. Or it's the new windows and the enhanced warmth and quiet. Or it's the cat. Or it's just me.

But there you have it. Mornings this week have been tough. Tougher than usual. I have never been one to spring from bed, full of energy and life. It has always been a struggle. I emerge slowly. And with reluctance. And this week has been exceptionally hard. So there it is.

The nice thing is that bossman is traveling, and there is flexibility. I can come home and work remotely if I play my cards right. Then it's all about the comfort. Throw on the jammies, turn on the tv, and monitor my email for crises. All is well. But I still have to get up in the morning. And eventually I have to stop whining about it. Because that is boring, too.

Power jockeying

So one of the things that happened this week basically confirmed a suspicion that I had. Basically I am on the leadership team for a group at my company. There by default, because I happen to be a direct report of my manager. Not because I am supposed to actually do anything special. Just because it would be needlessly rude to exclude me from the room.

Or at least that is the assumption. I do have my allies. One of them in particular has been very vocal in private with coaching me as to the prerogatives of being in the room. As well as taking the assumption that I belong there to heart.

So there was a sudden meeting yesterday. And there was an accompanying email that I was left off of. Because I was asked to call the meeting, I was also on the invitation. When I walked in the room, the bossman registered surprise, and didn't say anything. I acted like I belonged there. And the meeting progressed.

Afterwards I asked him to forward me the email. He acted shocked, but complied as he rushed to his next meeting.

I thanked him for sending it, and made sure to tell him that if he expects me to remain "on message" with the team at large (and god knows I have more visibility there than he does), I need to be in the loop. And that it is perfectly safe to trust me with this kind of thing- in fact safer if I know about it, and can not fuck things up inadvertently due to ignorance. Of course I said all of this in as diplomatic and nice a way as possible. Hopefully hiding my irritation. Because this is the kind of shit that I hate having to fight for. Total bullshit. The assumption appears to be that I can operate just fine in ignorance, and any problems that arise therein are mine to handle. I officially called shenanigans on that yesterday. We'll see if it has the desired effect.

And that was that. What my week was composed of, in a nutshell. Political jockeying. And the hope that there will be a resultant increase in information. And no, I don't take it personally, just realize that it's lower on the priority list for him, and just doesn't come naturally to his mind. I'll fix that. I have confidence. And the might of being right! Bwahahaha....

Seriously, I sometimes think that they just don't know what to think about me. And I like keeping them a little off-center that way- it is kind of fun. Shhhhhhh......

Housekeeping

We had new windows installed in La Casa. So the computer that I write on was shifted to the side of the room and turned off- since normally it sits looking out the window at the Cascades (on a clear day). Besides which, I also had another abnormally busy work week.

It appears, however, that the frenzy is coming to a close. I will have my life back to normal again. I don't quite know whether to be pleased or saddened by this. Operating on adrenaline is definitely intoxicating. But it is also exhausting. I can use both hands and count how many days in the last 2 weeks I was in bed by 8:00. Not much of a life on the side, I suspect.

So that is happening.

Other events- well nothing that I can report in an open forum. And nothing worth worrying about, either. The man himself is currently on a hike with a friend- I was invited, but laughed in his face when he said they were meeting at 7:00 AM on a SATURDAY. Fuck that noise. Not in a mean way, but really. He does know me better than that. But I do appreciate the offer.

So it's sleep in Saturday with coffee, fleece jammies, kitties, and the computer. Ah, so very cozy. And it's sunny outside. Which makes for more happiness. And we have sparkly clean windows.

It's been one of those weeks again. Was online working at 6:00 AM yesterday, because it appeared necessary. Now whether or not it actually was is another discussion entirely. Because of lack of coordination on the other end, turns out, not so much. But I was still there. And gone from the office early too. So there.

Now if I could just figure out where I hid a necklace when I went on vacation. It totally pisses me off. I was being clever. And now, since it's 3 months later, and I am finally remembering that I want to wear it, I can't figure out where the fuck I put it. Ye gads, I am an idiot. And here is your bona fide proof.

Nothing else to report here, on this end of things. Just wrapping up stuff and nonsense and trying to figure out what the hell I want to do when I grow up. Which appears to be now. Great. Thought I would have more time. But I am beginning to think that this is not the case. Maybe it's because I am around grownups all bloody day. And they take themselves and their lives very, very seriously.

So once again I point out, we live in interesting times. Like you haven't noticed. Well, if you get your news from Fox TV, like some of my more reactionary relatives, you are full of fear and angst. These are the same sillypants people who continue to send me anti-Obama spam, insisting that because it came across the interwebs, it HAS to be true. Ok, same person. Only one. And I love that person. But still, this is just silly.

And then there's the finances. The lovely thing, I got a pretty nice stock award with my annual review. And now? Well, it's not nearly as nice, as the company's stock has fallen. Substantially. Crap. I have to keep remembering, that it's a long-term thing. Not a short-term thing. And that otherwise, we are really doing well financially. For once. We appear to have finally gotten over the Montana tax- where you make about half of what the rest of the world makes, doing more work, and are expected to be grateful for a) having a job in the first place, and b) the fact that it is Montana. As if the scenery pays the fucking student loan. What a load of horseshit. If anyone doubted why we left, please re-read the above.

So then there is the rest of my interesting personal life. Actually vicarious interesting, as my own life is pretty sedate, and just fine. Wish it was the same for others. And that there were more concrete things I could do to assist. But there you have it. Geography, and the knowledge that it's just not my place.

Yes, interesting. And if I take a broad overview of it, there are some factors that seem just right about the whole thing. For example, despite how much it hurts right now, and despite the fact that it scares the hell out of significant people in my life, I can't help but be glad that the financial shenanegans of those asshats on Wall Street are being ferretted out and shut down. I have been paranoid about that whole thing for a long time. I had a job once upon a time in banking, and learned a lot about how shady and really scary that line of work is. All theory, no actual substance. And we all should know how the Emperor's new clothes turn out.

And the election. It will end some day. I don't quite understand the undecidedes. They worry me. I wonder how they make their everyday decisions. I wonder if they are undecided about many things. I would actually love to sit down and discuss this very thing with someone in that camp- not to harangue them into my way of thinking, but to understand how you get this far and still can't make up your mind. I don't understand. But I would actually like to. The good news, though, is that it will end soon. Very soon.

Beg week on our NPR station will end soon. Very soon.

I am just waiting for things to sort themselves out again, and it will return to some semblance of normality. Of this I am confident. For today.

Well, now that I have had the cat in my lap making biscuits, we are ready to start the day. It's a ritual. I drink my coffee, read websites, and he is there being happy. For him. He is an odd one. But then that goes with the definition of being a cat.

Weekend was full of sleep, reading teenage vampire books (from the library, I refuse to spend money on them), and going to the Sigur Ros concert last night. Even better seats than before. Had a couple of 21 year olds in flouncy dresses behind us. Annoyingly young. Stupid loud commentary, trying to be erudite. Only without the word erudite. Because they are unlikely to know that one. Luckily they settled down after making a couple of phone calls and were good little girls. The boys next to them were not good little anything. They kept talking in thier outdoor voices, and then got very quiet. I smelled a tuna fish sandwich. Kman smelled schnapps. One of the boys had vomited on the floor near our seat. On the little girl's umbrella, it turns out. Leave it, flouncy girl. Not worth the fuss. There will be many other umbrellas in your future.

The show was lovely. Again. Only different, as they have left the girl band animaa behind in Iceland (from the Myspace page, I suspect one of those girls is very pregnant, and no doubt wouldn't tour in that condition). So it was a pared-down version of 4 who performed. It's hard not to rave. It's hard not to order everyone out to watch. But I won't because I do recognize that they are an acquired taste.

Otherwise all is well. Going to the office. Gonna get lots done. In theory. In theory.

Another day in chaos, even if it is partially self-inflicted. Mainly because I can't just see a void. I have to step into it. And try and make the bloody thing better.

Some random thoughts appear whilst drinking some fine single malt. Not the best of the bunch, but a lovely bright distillation. It works.

I wonder if I am the only one who remembers that he chewed his nails down to nubs, and they were always rough and raw looking. When I would ask him to scratch my back, because I loved that as a child, he wouldn't be able to do more than rub. No scratching. Ever. Especially now.

I wonder if I am the only one who thought that he sang Paul McCartney's song "Silly Love Songs." Not sure about that one. I was pretty little. That's the only excuse I can come up with.

I wonder if I am the only one who thought that he was George Carlin on the records that he played in the basement. Because for some reason their voices were the same to me.

No, to the first. Certainly yes to the other ones.

Nothing other than that worth recording. And I would argue that this was nothing worth recording, either. Only feeling self-indulgent. Blame the scotch. Or the moon. Or whatever deity you choose to follow. Myself, well I have been trying to convince myself that choosing one of the old ones might be a pleasant diversion. Mithras comes to mind. Only I am not a warrior. But still, it would be entertaining to take days off to celebrate Mithrian holidays- and come back with a bit of beef blood on my forehead to commemorate the sacrifice. It would be odd enough to win me enemies, but interesting enough to win me friends. In some segments, that is.

Only I am never that daring any more. Once upon a time, it might've happened. But then I grew up and became much more afraid. Mainly because I learned about consequences. And about living without the perpetual safety net. I'm sure it's still there in places, but I don't want to test it. I don't want to be on the ropes. I guess at this point I am rather content to have a secret life of the mind, and leave the rest to being somewhat ordinary.

Only I do wear the black stone necklace when I want to pretend that I'm a witch, and am embracing the darkness. I really do. And it helps a bit. The pretend, not the necklace. I do know the difference so far between pretend and real. More scotch, and that might change.

So the trick is to keep the game face on. All the fucking time. And yes, there is strain. That's what getting coffee and restroom breaks are all about. Walking away for a few quick minutes here and there.

But the game face. It's all about calm in the face of Clear and Present Danger (thanks, Tom). Keeping them from seeing panic that they feel and want to share. Keeping them from feeling like they will have to deal with another problem. Keeping them grounded. Making them laugh here and there. Because otherwise the stress level will become even more toxic. Ah yes. The toxic. And that's the week. Keeping it from killing anyone.

Walks at night after work with Kman help. But that is about all there is to offer, besides drinking ones-self into a stupor. Which, given the rigors of the following day isn't very appealing. Ah, but it is. But it really isn't.

And the game face. Keeping it from cracking off, chipping like paint. Exposed to the elements. And the salt. And the cold. Keeping it intact. Keeping it fresh, even.

The good news? Next week the boss is travelling. And there isn't much for me to worry about then. Because once in play, he is in play and the game rolls on without me.

This weekend has been spent primarily hunkering down in expectation of absolute chaos next week. The boss is back, and there are critical things that happen on Wednesday- career making kinds of things. For him. And there will be stress, ah yes. In my world, indeed. So I planned ahead and slept a lot. And took care of things that will get neglected during the week. It's all good, just expecting a shit-ton of stress and angst. But that is the joy of having a job, no? As long as they're not too horribly cranky, I can deal. And if they are, I go to the new Top Pot donuts nearby and buy them treats to shut them up. Or cry. Because that usually stops men in their tracks and flips the remorseful switch full on.

But I wouldn't do that. No, that is the heavy ammo to be reserved for another day.

All I can really say this morning is that I am glad as hell I didn't get the job at Washington Mutual. I interviewed there several times, and am highly relieved.

Scary fucking stuff. I just hope that calmer heads in congress will prevail and they will hold off on spending all our blasted money in saving structures that ought to be looked at closely before determining if they actually need the assistance. Or if this is a Henny Penny maneuver. Oh, yes. The sky is falling. It happens. If you are a silly chicken, and if this is a children's story. I wouldn't share this story with a child though. It's boring and scary at the same time. But the boring prevails.

On the happier side, the stock at work went up this last week, and I got my first award a month ago. It's nice to see something resembling stability in my life. At least financially. The rest is pretty good, but that helps.

Gotta go to work in a bit- so will sign off. I'm hoping to have time to actually put some writing on the page this weekend. It is possible. And likely. Hold tight, I'll be back soon.

I've started and discarded two posts already this morning. I am worried that the day might follow along like that- fits and starts. But there you have it. Nothing new to really report. Nothing at least that I want to say out loud. In public.

Oh, the angst in the household right now....

We put those claw dealies on Buddy's claws this weekend. He is a very bad boy, who loves to scratch the shit out of the furniture. Not that we have nice furniture to ruin, but it gets on the nerves. And one of the amps is totally denuded on the side, and will need to be repaired. So we glued the plastic covers on his claws. He was very good. And now he is disturbed. Doesn't know what to do with himself.

Very odd to see his kind of perplexed and nonplussed little self. Don't like it much, but prefer training him this way to declawing him. Would hate to do that. Would really hate it.

Bad Buddy.

Now there's a break in the rain. It's good. Because after a perfectly dreary Saturday (CATURDAY!!!) it'll be nice to emerge into something not wet. Damp, perhaps. But wet is not ideal.

I don't intend to spend enormous amounts of time writing about the weather. It just takes over sometimes. Back in the day it was the snow. That would take over. We were prisoners of the winter, and had to deal. It happens here, but not as often. It's more dramatic here, as people stop driving and trees fall over.

So on the docket for today, the amazing and fun job of cleaning the house and finishing my big project of the weekend- the one that had me all pissy and annoyed yesterday. I am going through boxes of papers. And shredding tons of things and just throwing plenty of stuff away. I hate carting things around, and have a very bad habit of hoarding paperwork. I think it is genetic. Ask my father. He has a professional reason for it. But I would say in this instance it imprinted.

Makes me grumpy as hell to go traipsing through the past like that. I see where I spent time that wasn't justified. I see where I spent energy that wasn't clarified. It was not all fun. So then after getting well out of sorts, we had dinner with friends, and I abandoned the project for the day. It helped.

And now to get rolling- there is very little left.

Ah, Jack, you let me down last night.

First off, I don't blame you for the crappy acoustics-playing in the WAMU theater is like playing in an airplane hanger. That can't be helped, I suppose. Ditto the really stupid seating. It was hard to connect with the folks in the seats when they are half a mile away and separated from the band by a sea of people. Don't know how the sound folks could possibly counteract the crappy venue. Bummer that.

But the opening band? The Kills? Really? They were considered good enough? Really? From what I saw, they basically pranced around on stage posing rather than actually playing music. And the endless repetition and drone of the alleged lyrics...really? I am perplexed. Quite perplexed. Won't be going out and buying their music soon. Or ever, really.

And after all that, I do appreciate that your band was prompt. But the 45 minute set followed by the 5 minute powder, and the very short 15 minute reprise was shockingly abrupt. I was NOT feeling the love. In fact, what I witnessed was in no way a joyous reunion of the first Raconteurs concert that I was at a little over a year ago. That one was great. Lots of love from the stage. I attended it despite having thrown out my back an hour before. No pain meds, and extreme discomfort, and I still got it that you guys were having fun on stage playing songs. This time, no back pain, no meds, and I got it that you took over the band at some point and decided to run the entire show. Brandon was relegated to back up player. Not too cool, if'n you ask me. And I would love to give you the benefit of the doubt and think that perhaps he was off his game with a stomach bug, and you were generously taking the show and making it happen. But this isn't very likely now, is it.

And the brevity. That is where I feel ripped off. The brevity. What the fuck was up with that? You now have 2 albums worth of material that you can cover, and you still couldn't muster up a playlist that would go longer than an hour? WTF. Rip off.

Yes, I am cranky about it. Mainly because I have been a huge Jack fan for a while now, despite criticisms from friends and family- people who just don't get it, and accuse me of falling for hype. Now I am beginning to wonder. Perhaps there isn't room on a stage for Jack and his ego and the rest of a band. I don't know. I am not feeling very charitable at the moment. Just pissed off that I hauled myself across Lake Washington after a brutal fucking work week, and sat through a shitty opening band, to be treated to an hour of not horribly inspired music. Highlight- the re-working of "Steady, as She Goes". The low point- not playing "The Switch and the Spur."

I hold you Jack, to a higher standard than last night. I think that you are capable of much more as an entertainer- I have witnessed it through extreme pain and discomfort (when I said thrown back, I wasn't kidding- full on slipped disc, with a good 4 months of repair work to get it back to somewhat normal). I am hoping that someway, somehow, someone who you trust and like can talk some sense into you and bring you back to the place you should be- performing for the folks who love you, and sharing the stage with the band to which you belong. Otherwise, it all becomes the Jack White show, and that is not what I paid to see last night- and it does a disservice to the other boys in the band.

Now I shall finish, and go drink a little more coffee and try not to be cranky any more.

Nothing alarming today. Nothing really frightful woke me up on NPR. Just the usual crap- politics, economics, and surprisingly not religion. The third item on the list has been markedly silent lately.

On my trip, I read Fool on the Hill, by Matt Ruff. It was lovely. It helped the airport experience enormously. I'm reading his Sewer, Gas and Electric now. Not as quick a go at it, but it doesn't help that work has been brutal this week, and I am insisting on Kman going walking in the evenings with me so far this week. That way I can avoid the dreaded gym, get some exercise, spend quality time with the boy, and basically feel smug about my fitness levels. He is complaining a touch about not having enough tv time in the evenings, but I tell him, "Man up, Mary- are those your balls in your purse?" And he laughs. And plots kicking me out of the house with the cats- who really are great little coup planners. Actually they wouldn't really give a rat's ass who lives here, as long as they get enough food (by their definitions, which vary) and plenty of attention when they require it. It's like being coopted by a band of Banana Dictators. Only they are small enough to pick up and toss on the bed. And they poop in a box. Which might be said of the aforementioned dictators, only I am not privy to that information (did you see what I did there? Where is my "ba dum bum"?).

Ok, gotta go to work. It's promising to be another brutal one. But these are actually kind of fun. Like juggling monkeys. And hoping none of the monkeys have a really evil blood-borne pathogen that will cause my innards to seep through my skin.

Ok, I am going to break form and actually say something important.

If by chance you wander here and have small children who play soccer in the back yard, please, please read the following article and act if it applies to you:

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=94641865

I heard it on the radio this morning whilst trying to get out of bed. Scary shit, people.

Gotta say I appreciated the weekend away from most everything work. Was still processing things that happened, were said and were done. But that's probably to be expected. Poor Kman had to listen to my musings, but that's also probably to be expected. He gets beer out of the equation, and cup cakes.

Kman wrecked his bike at the track day. He is fine- just low sided. The bike not so much. Not sure what he will do with her. She requires a lot of reconstruction- it wasn't the new one though. But he might just part her out. He spent very little on her originally, so it's not a huge issue, just kind of sad. He messed up his hand a bit, but otherwise only has a large bruise and a sore elbow. I am really glad that he has always purchased the best safety gear available. And it appears to work. Had a debate with my mother yesterday about the relative safety of the track days. I said that I prefer him on a track to daily commuting (which he also does), mainly because it is a known course, with limited people on it, and they know what they're doing, and there is an ambulance available at all times. Versus his commute, where people are idiots, it is slower, but there are lumbering cars around, and they make very bad stopping points. She didn't agree, but that's not a problem, really. He'll go out and run again next season. After he decides the fate of the bike.

Nothing else, have a very busy day planned, so gotta run.