promise

So the big forum thingy is over, and let me tell you it was quite a ride.

Pretty much every minute of every day was planned out for us. We moved from breakfast to meeting to lunch to meeting to orchestrated dinner to sleep. We were assigned a core group and when away from them assigned to other groups to mingle with.

I met the most amazing people from all over the world, and some pretty terrific ones from here in the states. I now have a place to stay in Hong Kong (score!!) and friends to meet for drinks if I hit the UK or France. It really brought me back to high school and college, where I hung out with all the smart kids. It isn't that I don't feel I belong in the class, I just feel like they care a lot more about getting ahead. They work harder and try harder. For me, it is not so much that I want the brass ring as I just enjoy getting good grades.

There was lots of free food, and plenty of free booze. Last night after the dinner event I even dragged a group to my favorite dive, Rudy's, and we stayed out until after 2 am. The hangover was pretty horrific today, but fortunately I was able to keep my lunch down for when Marjorie Scardino sat with my table to go over our innovation. Oh, and then right after when John Makinson had a little catch up session with us Penguin folks. Really, I hope the stench of jagermeister coming out of my pores was not too overwhelming for them.

It probably will take another couple of days for the whole experience to gel for me. Attending something like this really puts you at a point where your head has a tendency to swell. If anything I really don't want to walk away with an over-inflated sense of self importance. So for now I am left not knowing if this was something done to groom me or really to use my knowledge and enthusiasm to squeeze that more much lifeblood out of me.

brainstorm

I am smack dab in the middle of this corporate forum. All they have us do is brainstorm, then filter down, then brainstorm, then filter down....ALL DAY LONG.

When we are not ruthlessly running our brains, we are networking with each other. Seems there are about 100 of us from all over the world, and even though our groups don't work together we need greater connectivity. My boss thinks this thing is exciting and great, I actually dream of going back to work. There you get occasional moments of simple thought.

At least I am getting free meals and booze out of this. That is something. Yay company sponsored alcohol!!

random acts

Watch out for the guerrilla gardeners.

It seems that this group of people in the London area sneak out at night and plant things. They cultivate public areas, for no purpose but civic pride. They even do “seed bombings” as a quick hit when they don’t have time or cover for a main operation.

How cool is that?

And no, I am not interested in starting one here in the city. Albeit I would support them here, I am not quite the green thumb kinda gal.

closer to fine

Growing up I always felt like an outcast.

A tomboy amongst girlie girls, an intellectual in a blue-collar town, an atheist raised by devout Catholics. In high school I hung out with the drama club, the uncool honor students, and the non-catholocists in the all girl catholic high school.

Not so much to be a rebel, as a blind effort to find a place to fit in.

At one point I realized that I might not fit anywhere, that there was no hole to fit my peg. It happened somewhere around the age of 16 when my cousin Steven introduced me to the Indigo Girls.

To be honest, the Indigo Girls saved my life more than once. It is more than their harmony and their musicality; there is something in their songs that speak to me. The most important in my youth was this song:

CLOSER TO FINE

I'm trying to tell you something about my life
maybe give me insight between black and white
and the best thing you've ever done for me
is to help me take my life less seriously
it's only life after all
yeah

well darkness has a hunger that's insatiable
and lightness has a call that's hard to hear
I wrap my fear around me like a blanket
I sailed my ship of safety till I sank it
I'm crawling on your shores

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountains
there's more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in a crooked line
and the less I seek my source for some definitive
(the less I seek my source)
the closer I am to fine
the closer I am to fine

and I went to see the doctor of philosophy
with a poster of Rasputin and a beard down to his knee
he never did marry or see a b-grade movie
he graded my performance, he said he could see through me
I spent four years prostrate to the higher mind
got my paper and I was free

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountains
there's more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in a crooked line
the less I seek my source for some definitive
(the less I seek my source)
the closer I am to fine
the closer I am to fine

I stopped by the bar at 3 a.m.
to seek solace in a bottle or possibly a friend
and I woke up with a headache like my head against a board
twice as cloudy as I'd been the night before
and I went in seeking clarity.

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountains
yeah we go to the doctor, we go to the mountains
we look to the children, we drink from the fountains
yeah we go to the bible, we go through the workout
we read up on revival and we stand up for the lookout
there's more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in a crooked line
the less I seek my source for some definitive
(the less I seek my source)
the closer I am to fine
the closer I am to fine
the closer I am to fine
~Indigo Girls, words and music Emily Saliers

This song has gotten me through more dark parts of my life than any other.

Tonight it came on while DTH guy and I were breaking up, and I started to tear up. Because for whatever reason, I cannot be normal, and I really wanted to be. Not that DTH guy is normal, just that being in a healthy relationship would be.

Here I am, remembering not to question, but accept who I am. And then I will be closer to fine.

wow

I just worked until ten o'clock and then walked home. It has been quite a while since I have worked quite that late. Occasionally I get an eight o'clock-er in here or there, but this makes the night extra special.

Not that I'm complaining. You know if I stayed that late there was something important I was working on, and I was able to finish it. The sense of accomplishment, to me, is worth the overtime. Oh, and the relief that it is done. The sweet, sweet relief.

And now I am home, listening to some sweet tunes on my super duper awesome imac drinking a cool refreshing gimlet.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhh.

pick me up

I came in this morning angry.  Last night I was up past two am imagining all the rants I want to have at various people in my life.  You know, the nemesis, the boss, blah blah blah.  This continued as I commuted to work.  Literally I was one of those people walking the streets of New York talking to myself.  Classic.

 

The frustration was building, you could see the steam coming out of my ears and my boiling point about to top over.

 

Until Ali girl came to see me and tell me her fantabulous news!  (Which if you know her you are just going to have to ask her yourself.)  Needless to say, her news is so wonderful and the enthusiasm so contagious all of the bad mood was alleviated.

 

Now that is some good news!!  Yaaaaay!

booze

For you New Yorkers, if you are looking for a little something to do this Thursday I have a little party for ya. Just promise me you will try some of this or this.

Did I mention open bar? Oh yeah, makes it all worthwhile...

(Don't forget to RSVP, and make sure you say that "Erica the All Powerful" sent you.)

net worth

I'm going to share a little secret with you - I have been broke all of my life.

Okay, not so secret. If you know me this is not new knowledge. I have never traveled outside of the USA or Canada, and the majority of my continental travel was aided by me being a flight attendant for a year. I never owned a new car, and the car I did had often had all kinds of fun "quirks" like having to roll down the window to open the door or a layer of glass missing from the windshield or having to spray lighter fluid on the air filter cold mornings to start the car praying that it didn't back up and start a fire as it was oft to do. (Nothing like beating down an engine fire on a cold Michigan morning to get that blood pumping!!) My furniture still consists of hand me downs and college level quality. My clothes are Old Navy and Gap.

This is no one's fault but my own. Granted, according to that book "Rich Dad, Poor Dad" some of this is learned behavior. But my choosing to move away from home at twenty, change my career every year or so, and put myself through college and pay tuition for NINE YEARS might have something to do with it. The fact that when moving to new York I refused to live in a borough and kept myself in poverty by paying exorbitant rent just perpetuates my continued self-effacement.

I have to admit, I wear my destitution like a badge of honor. When I made my first real career change, leaving General Motors and a potential life of comfort being an engineer, I consciously chose an adventurous life over a well moneyed one. About four years ago when my debt reached a level that put me in panic mode because I had started to get all kinds of collection calls and had put my credit in the toilet. I had just let it get out of control, burying my head in the sand. At that time I got smart.

My time was then spent joining a credit improvement agency, creating a budget, tracking my spending, and really learning where my money had been going in order to figure out what I had to do in order to stop my downward spiral. It was a rough couple of years, but although still in debt at least now I am smart with my money. I pay attention to where it goes, and that is half the battle. For a couple months I didn't go out drinking. I stopped buying breakfast and lunch every day and brown bagged it. I did not clothes shop for a year. Oh, and the big one, I lived and entire two years without ANY credit cards. Only the debt of the closed ones.

After two years I was back in control, and for the most part my credit became good enough once again to be able to rent an apartment on my own in NYC. Which means something.

One side effect of my journey was that I have learned how to pay attention to my investments. Mysteriously at one point I realized I had accumulated some money in my 401k. So I started to monitor it, and actually MANAGE my money. Yes, it helped that I couldn't get my greedy little paws on it to spend a cent.

Today I went online to check the progress of my funds and had a revelation. Due to my careful grooming my little nest egg has accumulated to be more than my current debt.

Yes, that is correct, today my net worth is not in the red. I am no longer worth negative money!! Okay, turns out it has been that way for a couple months, but I didn't realize it until today. Heck, I am proud of myself.

Not to get carried away here - after all my goal is to eradicate my debt so that I can completely change my career and take a huge pay cut. But the smart way this time, by living within my means and even continuing to increase my savings. I don't have to be poor; it just took me a while to figure that out.

tumult

How appropriate, that this is what came up on my word origin calendar.

Tumult

In Latin, the verb tumere means "to swell." From this came the noun tumultus, meaning "a disturbance." In another form, it was tumultarius, a term applied to a troop of soldiers raised in a hurry.

Okay, so that is kind of a boring origin. This week has for me has been quite tumultuous regardless. One of those Murphy's Laws kind of weeks, everything just seemed to go wrong. It cultivated yesterday when I had to fire someone.

Letting an employee go seems to me like a milder form of divorce. At first you meet, feel each other out. Then you make a promise of commitment, and spend time growing in your new relationship. Over time you have your learning curve, bumps in the road, an occasional wrong turn. But if it is meant to be, you grow together and something good is created.

Then as it ends, there is a sense of denial. Maybe if you try a little harder, maybe you are asking too much of the other person. It seemed to work before, what could have changed?

Something big then happens, and there has to be a split. Even though it is the best thing to do, it is stressful and you cannot help but feel that somehow you are to blame, that it is your fault. You know that you both will be better off apart, that the status quo is actually at this point detrimental to both parties.

That is the thing that always amazes me, that besides having to deal with the end of something you have to deal with the guilt of what happens to the other person.

And the sense that you failed. You mistrust yourself because you picked the wrong person. How can you do better the next time? How do you learn to trust yourself again?

Thank god for Cinco de Mayo and all the sweet, sweet tequila that flows therewithal.

compounding

Let me expound upon why I have a new nemesis. It is not only because she talks smack behind my back.

All the back-stabbing put aside, it is that additional flavor of two-facedness that drives me batty. You know she had the nerve today to try and "chat" me up? You know, asking personal questions, interjecting what in her mind is witty banter.

Dude, it is bad enough you don't have the courtesy to confront me to the face with items you deem as flawed in my work realm, but then trying to act like my best friend and cozy up to me?

Pure, unadulterated evil.

I was up for an extra hour last night thinking of ways I could get her fired. Then I realized how silly that was, I should just leave instead. Let her clean up her own mess, I say!

Gotta work on my resume...

grrrrrr

I have a new nemesis at work. There is nothing like having someone who should be on your team talk about you behind your back.

Oh, what can I do to foil her evil plans? What superpower do I already possess?

For this I have no bright side. Take that!!

more fun with links

I think the searches that lead to my site are getting even better:

spitting at work

falling rockstar

bliss personal lubricant

la vie boehm

downside of alloderm for hernia repair

calories burnt in female orgasm

saggy masochist

best part, the spitting one got me the most hits.

rock

on

superhero power

If I could choose any superhero power I would choose beauty. This is a brand-new power, so bear with me.

It is not that I think I am unattractive. I am cute. And it works for me. I am unthreatening. I entertain, I blend. Occasionally I can cause a giggle.

Beauty, like any superpower, can be dangerous. As Ani Difranco says "everyone harbors a secret hatred for the prettiest girl l in the room."

Too much of anything makes people uncomfortable, or suspicious. Power also intimidates. In any form.

On the other hand, all human beings, of any culture, trust attractive people more. The more attractive you are, the more honest and loyal you are assumed to be.

This is why beauty as a superpower is brilliant. Most of the time, through everyday life, you are a normal person drawing no extra attention and causing no controversy. Your alter ego, secret identity.

But in those moments when you really need it:

When pulled over for a traffic ticket

If ID'd for a club when you forgot your license

Those last minutes during the closing of a sale

At the closing of a job interview

You pull out your superpower and BAM!!! It was the edge you needed.

Now, just like when you are given the opportunity to choose any superpower - as we normal people are given the choice in that it is all theoretical - would you use your powers for good?

Of course!!!! Collecting money for charity, helping other people feel more attractive by proxy...oh, and the phenomenal masturbation fantasies I would provide!!

I just ask when this new superhero is created she is called Rockstar. Okay, and a 2% royalty. Unless I write my own graphic novel...

Anyone know any cool female graphic artists? Hmmmmmm

paranoia

I was in Ali Girl's office earlier today, talking about personal gossip, kind of quietly as to not advertise my juicy stuff to the world. But not in an overtly conspicuous or secretive manner, as I really have no secrets.

As I was leaving her office, a coworker was walking by. And then stopped quite suddenly, inquiring:

"Were you guys talking about me?"

Immediately I broke out into guffaws of laughter, as did Ali Girl. Our coworker looked kind of surprised and confused, so I patted her arm (note inappropriate at-work touching) while still laughing saying "No! No, talking about you? No no no no..." I even continued to chuckle as I walked away.

Thinking back on this, I have been laughing all day. It isn't just the paranoia of the situation; it is the ego-centrism of it all. She is nice enough whatnot, but on my list of people or things to talk about, she rates near the bottom.

I find it hysterical too the audacity to stop and ask like that. Really, you shed yourself in such a negative light doing something that, well, desperate. This girl always seemed to me to have more poise.

Ironic that I am talking about her now though, eh? Is that even karma?

reflections

When you start dating someone, you spend less time watching tv. And blogging.

Seems you keep busy doing other things. *cough cough*

Just sayin.

Guess you all will be able to monitor the level of my sex life by my blog activity, eh? Just 'cause you all wanted to know.

work it

I know it is going to be a good day when I plug in my ipod to the speakers at work, hit the random song function...

And the Copa Cabana plays.

Awwww Yeah!

This has been a crazy hectic week. I have had to work ten times harder than I have in a very long time. We are talking everyone needing something from me, helter skelter cries for help, and me having to roll up my sleeves and go shoulder deep into the belly of the beast to help them all.

It has been great.

(Well, except for that one night I got really pissed off. But I'm over that now.

Every night I have worked late, some nights past nine. Call me crazy, but I like being busy, and I really like feeling necessary. Becoming management had taken a lot of that away from me. It is so much easier to feel accomplished when you create a report or a system then grooming an employee.

Oh, right, I guess that's why I get paid more money. Gotcha.

sense of direction

I'm totally biting this off of Bacon, but it is way too awesome to ignore.

calendar

From today's word origin calendar:

Working Stiff

If you feel that your job is bad for your health, you may have a real reason to use this phrase. It originated from an old slang use for the word "stiff," meaning "corpse."

I always wondered what it was like to be one of the walking dead. Seems I have known all along...

whew!!

The surgery went fine, and my sister is going to be okay. It took just under five hours and the tumor was about the size of a peanut.

Tomorrow they will do another cat scan to make sure the brain and whatnot collapse back into the space accordingly, but the doctors believe that all is well.

Now I can go back to planning the bachelorette party. Oh, the bachelorette party.

And my speech for the wedding. Yes, it will rock.

Hooray!!

saga continues

Thank you all for your well wishes and good thoughts!!

So far Katie is okay. The doctor opened her head, took one look, and closed her right back up.

Seems she had some pretty major looking blood vessels where they shouldn't be, and they were all around the tumor. The doctor did not want to risk going in "blind" and my sister potentially bleeding out.

I appreciate that.

What happens next is that they have to perform an angiogram, a very invasive procedure to determine the blood vessel mapping in her brain so they can plan a course of action.

Once they know where everything is and what to avoid, they will go back in to take out the tumor - most likely Monday. Poor thing has to stay in the hospital over the weekend, and then she will be in the ICU for at least three days during her recovery.

Sucks.

sisters part two

Through self imposed trials and tribulations, my sister and I remained close.

We survived my immediate family. Then discovered our extetended. We traveled together. And still liked each other. We lived in sin. (With boys, not each other you dirty bastards.) And were forgiven by the religious family.

Now you all know I have had health problems. Long and extended ones.

My sister's were shorter but way more intense.

One month after my second surgery, where the foot of my intestine was removed, my sister was admitted to the very hospital where I had been chopped to pieces. For her the symptoms were nausea and headaches.

When she was unconscious for 24 hours we got worried. My loud voice could not wake her. That is shocking, c'mon.

Turns out she had a brain tumor. At 17. It was benign, but the process was still long and hard for her. As much as I have gone through over many years, she experienced the more intense version - all before being legal.

I will not lie. When I first learned that my sister had a brain tumor I freaked the fuck out. I went on laughing and then crying jags from one minute to the next. I was hysterical.

Until I decided that I could not believe that she would not get better. I call it conscious denial. You refuse to think of the worse.

She got better. I won. Again

This past Monday I got an email from my sister:

call me later
they are going to cut my head open again on friday :)"\

Wha.....what....WHAT????

So not funny.

Wasn't meant to be.

My mom's email, two hours later, went more like this:

This morning Katie got the results of the MRI she had yesterday. She has been having really bad headaches the last few months. Her brain tumor is back. It is the same type (Hemangeoblastoma)and in the same place (behind her left ear) as last time. The good news is that it is benign and not too hard to get at. It is fluid filled cyst. The Surgeon, and Katie both would like it out as soon as possible. She is going to have surgery Friday morning, 4/14/06, at the University of Michigan Hospital in Ann Arbor. We don't know the exact time yet, they will have to bump someone to get an Operating Room. We are going to see the Surgeon for a pre-op appointment tomorrow morning. So, please keep her in your prayers. We hope for as good an outcome as we had 14 years ago.
Love,
Mom



Katie is having brain surgury Friday morning. My baby sister. the kindest most forgiving person I know, has to go through this less than two months before her wedding day.

If I could take all the pain, suffer as much as humanly possible to take this away from her I would. But I have no choice in the matter. My sister has a tumor the size of a golf ball in the lower left part of her brain, and she has to have brain surgery for the second time in her very short thirty years of life.

I believe in positive visualization. All of you reading this have to imagine me, right now, dancing at her wedding. Giving my speech, congratulating her and her new husband for their new lives promised to each other. Me telling my stories of how I tortured her in her youth but cared for her at the same time. Please, only image the good things I speak of, and I believe the best scenario will come true.

If you imagine rain, it will pour. Please, believe in the sun.

Your positive thoughts make the difference. This whole week for me has been about her. If you know the devil, introduce me to him so I can sell him my soul. Not much left to give, but it is worth a try.

At the very least, imagine Katie mocking me for the rest of my live for being such a sentimental, sappy, and emotional bastard. I can take the torture, it is worth the price.

sisters

I can remember when my mother was pregnant with my sister. Specifically because my brother wanted a brother and I wanted a sister. It became a competition.

And I won.

Growing up I tortured my siblings ruthlessly. I would provoke my brother until he got so angry he turned beet red and shook. My sister is four years younger, and her trials by my hand were way way worse.

There was the time I used to get her to do my bidding by threatening to tie her down, blindfold her, gag her, and play the intro to Thriller. You know, the Vincent Price monologue with the spooky sound effects. Then she told on me and I got into trouble. So I explained her that if she ever told on me for threatening her again I would shave her head bald in her sleep.

When babysitting, the abuse was worse. Sis was afraid of the dark, and I would follow her around the house turning off every light as soon as she would turn it on. While my brother followed around saying "Stop, you shouldn't do that." He wasn't very convincing.

Thing is, these were just control games. As much as I made my sister's life miserable, I did so much to try to make her happy. Like the times when I would decide to make her laugh so hard she couldn't stop. Or how I taught her not to be afraid of the dark, by sitting by the night-light and turning it off for 30 seconds at a time to get her used to it. Or when she couldn't sleep telling her to concentrate on the sound of my breathing, to know she was safe. Or when I told her the reason that her myriad of stuffed animals would be on the floor when she woke up was because while she was asleep they were having a super duper party dancing and whatnot, but when she woke up they had to stop wherever they stood. (Yes, this was YEARS before Toy Story, dammit!!)

My sister and I have remained close throughout our lives, and she means more to me than anyone in the world. It just isn't because she is a better, kinder person than myself. But because she knows me better than anyone else in the world and she still loves me. That means a lot.

you're welcome

If you are going to see any movie in the next couple of weeks, see this one. The BF and I saw it the other day, it is the best thing I have seen in quite a few months.

(Yes I did say BF, which stands for boyfriend. It is official, and teetering on stage three. Tis a whole 'nother post.)

If you don't believe me, then at least believe my favorite critic.

This movie was smart. Funny. Endearing. Scathing. Kind. Heartfelt. And just darn cool. DO NOT MISS IT!!!!

get real

Change is inevitable. The only thing you can count on. Besides death and taxes.

Why should you care deeply about anything if it only will go away? Is the joy worth the loss?

Is a life of mediocrity better because the end of mediocrity is easier to endure than the end of something great? Is it the question of how high you can go or what depth you can take?

run obsessed

Today I ran another race, the Thomas G Labrecque 4 mile. The weather was nice, a sunny 41 degrees. But the crowd. Oh, the crowd.

There were 5,368 runners in today's race. That means it took me six minutes just to get to the start line alone. Which I can handle, that is no biggie. What blew me away is how much the crowds affected my race.

First of all I was going for another personal best in this race. I wanted to beat my 9:51 per mile average that I got a couple of weeks ago. Out of the gate there were a lot of slow people in front of me, and I didn't try to pass too aggressively. Until I finished the first mile in twelve minutes. TWELVE MINUTES!!??!! That kicked my passing mode into high gear.

Secondly, I didn't realize this until literally half way through; I never got a chance to appreciate the scenery. Normally when I run a race I make a conscious effort to look around, appreciate central park in its full nature filled glory. Especially now while in spring when trees and flowers are in bloom, it is a fabulous sight. Thing is I could not take the time as I was too busy trying to navigate my way around the other runners.

I don't know if these problems were really because of the quantity of runners or the quality. When you get in line before the start, there are markers for you to line up against based on your expected run speed. This way passing is minimized. It seems that in this race there was a large number of people who just lined up as close to the start as they could with no regard to their run time. Bastards.

In spite of this all, the race was still awesome. I kicked it into high gear and finished with yet another personal best, averaging a 9:33 minute mile. All I have to do is keep or improve upon that time for my 10K in May and I am on my way to my goal marathon time!

dichotomy

A few years ago I read The Unbearable Lightness of Being. To save my life I could not tell you about any of the characters or even what the plot was, but something did stick. The idea of weight and freedom as a really great analogy.

There are people in life who prefer to have sex while being on the bottom. Symbolically this can represent having a weight on them, but more than in a literal meaning. This weight holds you down, keeps you stable. Or if you look at it another way it can stifle you, keep you from full range of motion.

Then there are the people who like to be on top. There is nothing keeping them anywhere for any amount of time, they can get up and go at a whim. This allows pure freedom, no strings attached. But then what keeps you from floating away, without any direction?

In my mind it seems like this analogy is improved upon by thinking of your life in a hot air balloon.

I have been weightless for a long time. Everything is done on whim, fancy. It has been simple to be this way, as I am a very spontaneous person. Also, I am kind of different in that I am very rarely lonely. Really this explains why I have been single for so long. Not being afraid of floating, not missing an anchor.

This does not mean I don't like the weight, just that I never looked for it.

Recently I have been caught on something, and it has been nice. Familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time. One could argue that it is not natural to have nothing holding you down. Every balloon has to land once and a while.

On one hand it feels safe and secure to be grounded. On the other the tugging of the rope feels new, and sometimes raw.

I don't remember the exact moment with the Detroit ex when the anchor was attached, but I remember in crystal clear detail when it was cut. With that pain I made sure to bring up all lose ends to make sure I didn't catch on anything by accident. Now starting something again hits some of that sense memory. It is so much harder this time around to get used to an anchor again.

It is ironic that the actual act of letting go of being in control, of truly being free, seems to involve being held down.

spread the love

I have been working on a couple of posts, but have been having a hard time getting them just right. In the meantime, enjoy the discount:

"As Spring is in the air, we are once again offering friends and family a code to use to receive 15% off their total order placed now through May 15, 2006.

Simply visit penguin online and shop many of the best books for adults and children. When checking out, enter promotional code friend4 to receive 15% off your total.

Please PASS THIS CODE ALONG to your friends and family so they can enjoy these special savings."

Yay cheap books!

copy cat

To steal one from RFW, I just went to the lady doctor and when she started asking what kind of STD testing I wanted done...

 

"We tested for HPV and Chlamydia, were you interested in a HIV test as well?"

 

"Uuuuuum, yeah, that is probably a good idea."

 

"Okay that is fine.  What about Syphilis and Hepatitis?  We normally don't check for those..."

 

I look at her for a moment, sigh in resignation and reply, "Just supersize me."

 

Luckily she found that funny.  Thank goodness for realistic doctors!

too early

I hate daylight savings time. 

 

Yes, I know that the extra hour of daylight is nice.  Yes, I know that it is a welcome symbol of outdoor summer fun to come.  It is just that the adjustment to my poor sad sleep schedule is murder.  Being a night person staying awake that extra hour seems practically impossible to resist, but goddamn that alarm goes off  way way too early.

 

What do I need daylight for?  This pasty Irish skin is made for Guinness by moonlight.

condundrum

People like to tell me that my brother's second eldest daughter is "just like me".

They tell me this because at all family gatherings, most of the time she just kind of wanders around of her own volition, following any and every urge. This would be in opposition to accepting attention from any of the many adoring family members or deciding to play with anyone else. Basically they see her, at her very young age, of being very independent minded - thus taking after her aunt rockstar.

Really my sense of liberty always came naturally. Like breathing. Or drinking alcohol.

I can remember being in junior high refusing to let my parents drive me the mile to any of my softball practices - why have them do that when I could get there by my own steam on bike? Not to mention, I didn't have to worry about any one waiting for me or me waiting for anyone else.

When at seventeen I had my appendix out I remember shoo-ing my mom home from the hospital - why sit around in an uncomfortable chair when all I was going to do was sleep and watch TV? I was fine, nurses were all around! To my mother I insisted, "Really, there is no need for you to stay - go home!"

Even as a small child, I remember my mom offering to walk me to my first day of kindergarten and me thinking - why? I know how to get there, what is the point? (Admittedly I did end up crying that first day, but only because everyone else did and for some reason at that age crying is contagious.)

In high school I wore my independence as a drama club member badge of honor. Being one of the freaks and geeks was fine by me. It wasn't until college that I began to realize how loud the beat of my different drum is. How hard it is to ignore, and even more importantly, how much I want to follow it.

What strikes me as funny is that where in my youth this was beneficial, as I get older it becomes more disadvantageous. At some point I transitioned to being fiercely independent to being prideful. And too much pride is a bad thing, as we all know.

How really are independence and pride different?

Independence is defined as "Free from the influence, guidance, or control of another or others; self-reliant"

Pride is defined as "A sense of one's own proper dignity or value"

I ask you, how can you be true to yourself without valuing your own sense of direction the most?

As with everything in life, I suppose the key is that anything can be bad for you in excess. It may not be so much that the sense of free will is diminished, but that you are willing to listen to and be influenced by someone else's drum. That by letting someone walk you to your first day of kindergarten you are not losing independence, you are allowing someone else listen to your beat.

Just so you know, mine sounds kind of like ska.

stage two

The second step in modern day courting rituals for Rockstar.

I have been ruminating quite a bit about what all these stages are, and polling many of my friends. DTH guy and I are still canoodling after a month, and we have gone on more than three dates. (Dates defined as making a plan and doing something together, not falling into bed after happening to be at the same bar for an event.)

We have also moved into a comfortable assumption of time being spent together - that we will see each other again within five days kind of thing.

This puts us to stage two. "Seeing Each Other."

Although several people know his secret identity (he is part of one of the bar distros I am on, therefore was not a stranger at time of initial hook-up) we have still been keeping our interaction on the down-lo. As we are assuming that we will continue for the foreseeable future, we are being less stealthy. Not trying so hard to hide what we are doing.

Not that I ever really am good at hiding much of anything. I tend to share my life in minutia with anyone who will listen. Oops.

detox day six

Lord, do I miss my caffeine.  Did you all know I love coffee?  Oh god I miss the stuff.  I could write a sonnet.  Or a symphony.  Or a soliloquy...

 

Day one of the detox I was in a fog.  Swear to god my brain was underwater with sand in the gears.  I felt rather as if I was extremely hungover - like all sounds and visuals came in through their respective channels and bounced right back out.  My own personal brain force field, lucky me.

 

Second day, worst caffeine withdrawals of my life.  I have quit the fabulous legal stimulant many times over, never have I experienced pain like this before.  My head throbbed, sound and light drove me mad.  I acquiesced and took some Tylenol, which only LIGHTENED the pain. 

 

Saturday and Sunday, blech, who needs caffeine when you can sleep?

 

Yesterday and today, days five and six respectively, have illuminated to a fine point my love for the drug.  It is not necessarily that I am sleepy, it is that my brain just works better on speed.

 

While in college for psychology, I recall being taught how it was that hyperactive children were able to be made calm by Ritalin, a stimulant.  Basically everyone's brain has a certain premium activity level.  If your brain by nature runs a little sluggishly, action must be taken to speed it up to the appropriate range, be it physical or pharmaceutical.  It seems I fall into that group.

 

Wait, did I just admit I was slow?

 

Anyhoo, working on a project this morning I could sense how close I was to premium working capacity, and could feel in every fiber of my being that if I just took a little sip of coffee my focus would be refined and my thoughts crystal clear.  Oh, the temptation, to enter back into the world of the synapse superhighway rather than the lowly unpaved dirt road that is my natural mind.

 

Oh, the willpower, are you all impressed?  If my tummy acts up during marathon training after all that I am doing for it I'm going to be one pissed off chick.

secret garden

There is a magical mysterious hidden place in New York City, and it is the High Line.

The High Line is a long closed above ground rail system in Manhattan. It has been closed off to all public access for years, and thus has become overgrown and wild. And intriguingly cool.

While walking the city, all you see from below are rusted girders and chipped cememt. It looks like industrial waste. But from above? Paradise. A secret garden.

Ever since I have heard about this place my imagination and heart have been captured, my interest piqued. And now they are going to renovate to make it into a public park! I am so stoked!

personal space

Lately I have been having this problem. I have been acting out strangely, and even though I catch myself doing it, sadly I realize too late after the fact. Once done, I immediately ask myself "Why, why, why???"

I have become a toucher.

For example, I will be in a meeting, and at some point I will have made a joke or engaged in a side comment to the person next to me, and then I reach out and touch their arm. Worse, often I touch it again ten or fifteen minutes later! Doesn't even matter who the person is, they could work with me, work in another department, or even be a vendor. It could be the most closed off, isolated, robotic person I know, and here I am invading their personal space.

What the hell am I doing???

This behavior has even extended outside of the boardroom. We are talking any time, anywhere. Elevator, bar, checkout line in the cafeteria, chance conversation on the subway platform, doesn't matter. A shoulder, the back, a tie, I see myself doing it like an out of body experience, all the time thinking "stop now! Don’t do it! No touching, leave them alone!!"

It worries me that I am creeping people out by doing this, but somehow it has become natural to me. I just don't want to be that freaky girl - the one who makes people uncomfortable by acting too familiar.

I wonder if this is some kind of mental backlash from working in a corporate environment too long. Argh, corporate life. They take away my sneakers and I become a social freak. Rock on.

on the wagon

My insides have been rumbling a tiny bit, so in the spirit of prevention I am back on the detox. Liquid diet for ten to fourteen days. Oh yeah.

One would think the fear of hunger would give me pause, or even the abstinence from caffeine, but no. No, my real apprehension lies with upcoming bar nights.

Next week there lie not one or two, but THREE birthday celebrations. It is sad, but I really have grown to rely on alcohol as my social lubricant. Why is it I believe I’m funnier, smarter, and more suave after I imbibe a cocktail or two? It is not as if most of my life isn’t spent sober (really, it is) and I’m just as witty.

So this of all things will be my big challenge for this fast. The small one will be getting my brain back, as the lack of caffeine is officially making me stoopid. My poor brain is sluggish with no signs of kicking into action any time soon.

snacking hell

I'm still haven't finished the damn things, here almost a week later. I have worked out a way to consume the bastards without having to spit, as spitting at work is not the best way to make friends and impress others. Sadly this method converts to approximately one seed per minute.

Yes, it was a big bag. Shoot me, it was 99 cents.

So sad

Last night when I got home I had a voicemail from apple, they had some questions about my application.  The second interview had gone off smashingly, if not strangely.  It was a group interview, myself and five other candidates, and we answered a few questions, had some discussion, and had a presentation to give.  At the end of the interview we were told that we would be contacted in seven to ten days with our job offers.

 

Whoa.  I was skeptical, how can they place me after just that?  But then the phone call.

 

It seems my initial doubts are true, I am overqualified.  In order to work at the store I would have to take a pay cut of over twenty grand.  I was willing to go down ten, that is how much I love the damn company.  Right now to go down that much would spell bankruptcy.  My recruiter was sad, I was sad, both of us expressed remorse at my inability to make the leap. 

 

I mentioned that in six months I will be debt free and revisit the jump, and she promised to keep me active in her mind especially if a new area opens up that I could fill that still meets my needs.

 

So sad I can't go to apple now, but my foot is in the door.  Someday I'll get past the threshold, goddammit!!

trends

Okay, so I think that a pattern has surfaced in what is bringing web traffic to my site:

straight men locker room sex
quadruple amputee wwi basket case
pictures of ejaculation fluids
men in locker room
straight men locker room shower

I don't think that my target audience is being hit here...

pure joy

A new cult classic is on the way. My god, these people are funny. Could this be better than Old School? TBD.

And here we have my next guilty pleasure. One look at the trailer, and I was hooked. I'm so stoked I'm almost ashamed of myself.

ugh

Lots of beer and maybe a couple of shots. Oh, the hangover. Obviously, as I am posting before eight am. A fabulous time was had, I even did a shot at lunch with my boss! Nothing speaks to corporate unity like drinking together.

Must get back to bed, I brought someone home with me. DTH guy showed up at my bar of choice, for that I had to reward him with a sleepover! All my friends thought it was sweet. Tonight I get to hang with Seattle Girl, who is in town. YAAAAAAAAY!!!

erin go bragh

You know, I didn't always like beer.

*Stunned silence*

That's right, when I started drinking at the ripe old age of 16 I was hardcore into the Sun Country Coolers. You know, the orange flavor that came in the two liter. (If you are too young to know of this marvel, so sad for you damn whippersnapper.)

Eventually I graduated from the coolers to rum and cokes to vodka and kool aid to tequila sunrises to jack and coke to southern comfort and mountain dew. Note the constant combination of sugar to my alcohol. Quite important to give sugar to an overly energetic teen while drunk.

It was such a relief to turn 21. All of my friends were older, they had been allowed to purchase alcohol and even gain entry to bars while I was a sad sad underage girl left to my own devices and their mercies.

A mere month after I turned 21 I geared up for my first legal St Paddy’s day, and decided that not only would I hit a REAL Irish bar (the Old Shillelagh for those familiar with Detroit), but by god I WOULD DRINK BEER. And drink beer I did. I started off with Harp, and eventually even started to drink of the mother's milk Guinness. I started to enjoy it. Problem was, I did not take the necessary time to acclimate to this new delivery system of alcohol to my blood, and may have consumed a drink or two more quickly than I should have.

Thus my first ever blackout. Oh, the nostalgia. I don't remember getting home, hell I don't remember throwing up. My sister and mom made sure to inform me of such actions. You know, because they care.

Since that faithful day, I have always loved beer. I try not to black out every time I drink it though. Sometimes I fail, but that is no fun because if I forget everything than what do I have to blog about?

May your St Paddy’s day be joyous, and as my 100% Irish father would tell you, may your best day of last year be the worst of the next.

Even better, one of my favorite toasts:

In life, there are only two things to worry about, if you are well or if you are sick.
If you are well, you have nothing to worry about.
If you are sick, you only have two things to worry about, if you live or if you die.
If you live, you have nothing to worry about.
If you die, you only have two things to worry about, if you go to heaven or if you go to hell.
If you go to heaven, you have nothing to worry about.
If you go to hell, it won’t matter – you’ll be too busy shaking the hands of all your friends to care!!

Cheers!

seriously

I just did algebra as part of my job. I'm not kidding. I could not figure out how to get a number, so I made up variables and did the damn thing. Note the proof:

If

N = G * (A/B)

then

N/G = A/B

1/G = (A/B) * (1/N)

and finally

G = (A/B) * N

Awww yeah, I am that urban legend.

calling all michiganders

Okay, here is the deal.  As I am the maid of honor and the only bridesmaid in my sister's wedding, it is my esteemed duty to throw the bachelorette party.

 

There is no truth to the rumor that really I am organizing because I am such a drinker and socializer.  Nope, no way.

 

Anyhoo, my sis has laid down a few ground rules. 

 

1)  No strippers

2)  Someplace equidistant from Ann Arbor/Tecumseh and Roseville/Warren.  (sis suggested Novi)

3)  No people taking off their clothes for money

4)  A locale in which we can reserve an area and activities are to be had.  (sis suggested Gameworks)

5)  No pizza or police men allowed who are feeling constricted by their apparel

6)  Alcohol should be served

7)  No hanging around people who have a longing for money being stuffed in their underwear

 

Now I call on you, my friends still in the wonderful mitten state, for some input and advice.  My sister does not play video games, and never did.  There HAS to be a fun place or two around Novi that focuses on something more down her alley?  We are not talking my alley, all I need is a lot of beer and a drunk corner to pass out in, thus my needs are easily served.  And this is her day.  Or at least the one before that day where she wears white and makes some kind of promise to some guy about sickness and jewelry.

 

Are there any dueling piano bars in the area, or any other fun adult type things?  Also, any hotel or limo/car service recommendations, specifically places you personally know are good?  I can search on the web like a mutha, but if ya'll have experienced some professional bliss I'd love to hear the good word.  (Or if you know places to avoid that is good info too!)  My sister said a hotel was not necessary, but I'd like to spring for a room or two to help relax the pressures of the evil word TOLERANCE that could incur from having to drive an hour home as certain parties may be prone to do.  That word is not needed at a bachelorette party thrown by me.

 

I mean at any bachelorette party for my sister.  Not about me, not about me...

 

Of course, any information will be accordingly rewarded with time and drinks spent with me during the long week before the wedding of which I will be in town, and most likely will also result an invite to the actual non-stripper night itself.  Cause that's how I roll.

 

Oh, and do you guys know any good stripper agencies?  Just kidding!!!  (Or not...)

by accident

I bought sunflower seeds with the shell on.  How the hell do you eat the damn things???

personal best

This is a training update, so I must warn that you are about to be inundated with all kinds of numbers and running lingo. Well, at least one or two.

Today I ran a four-mile race in central park and had my best time ever, a 9:51 minute mile, net time for the race 39:25! It was 50 degrees, and raining. The park was still dead and cold from the winter, trees barren of life. None of that mattered, running felt natural and fluid, I was in the zone from beginning to end.

This time means more to me than a notch on a board, it says to me that I can finish the marathon in my goal of four and half hours or less. Honestly, my times have been so mediocre that I have had doubts. I still have to shave off a couple more minutes (I have to run a 10K with an average 9:35 mile) by July 3rd when my training regimen begins, but now I have that little piece of me that knows I can. For gods’ sake, how much faster alone when I knock of these last fifteen pounds? Like lightning, I tell ya.

canoodling

I know you all are dying to hear how the dinner went last week.

Well I decided to go the trust my instincts, no recipe needed route. DTH guy is a self-proclaimed meat and potatoes guy, so I did meat and potatoes. I picked up the groceries, and made the following:

Cheese platter of gouda and parmesan romano
Antipasti of mixed olives
New york strip steaks with parmesan crust
Twice baked truffled mashed potatoes
Asparagus sautéed in ginger soy sauce
Finished with local bakery bought nut free brownies

Went off like a charm. He brought wine and flowers, so thoughtful and sweet. And the evening was perfect.

We talked, we laughed, and laughed some more. The conversation was delightful and flowing, no rough or awkward spots.

While grocery shopping I had a realization about why I had offered to make dinner, and later on I discussed with DTH guy. On our first date the previous Thursday, while picking up the check he had explained that he believed strongly in always paying the bill. It is more than just a traditional patriarchal ritual and more of the concept of treating me for the honor of my presence. Still sounds vaguely like prostitution, but I'll believe that's not the point.

Now, I happen to be a fiercely independent person, and have a very time asking for or even receiving anything. Someone buys me a drink at a bar; I buy them a drink and a shot. I just abhor the idea of being indebted to someone.

Knowing that any place we go he would pick up the check, how could I balance the scale? Cook dinner.

Yes, I have issues.

Upon realizing this, I came to terms with the idea that I will just have to learn to sit back and take it like a man. Pun intended. Since Saturday we went out two more times, and he came over last night after the Pisces bday party and spent the day with me today. In other words, things are going well. The more time we spend together, the more fun I am having with him, which is nice. We are officially to the canoodling stage of a relationship, in the rockstar dictionary. Soon I will post all the stages, just so ya'll can follow along accordingly.

And yes, he reads my blog. Keeps me honest.

One step closer!!

Just got this email:

To: bridget.rockstar@gmail.com
Subject: Apple

Hi Bridget!

Thank you for attending our interview seminars earlier in the week!
At this time we would like to invite you back for a second smaller group interview.

The interview will be taking place at the ******* building, and according to the availability that you gave us on your survey, we'll see you on Wednesday, 3/15 at 5:00pm.

We look forward to speaking with you again!!

Regards,

Andrea

Woo hoo!  Game on!

natural woman

Do you have something in your life that everyone wants but you just don’t care about? Maybe everyone loves Desperate Housewives and you just don’t have any interest, the world is insanely in love with KanYe but his music bores you, your whole family craves vanilla and you are perfectly happy living with just chocolate?

I was a tomboy growing up. When I was young my lack of femininity caused me insecurity and doubt in myself. It wasn’t until I got older that I learned that I not only am okay the way I am, I am pretty darn terrific. (I’m good enough, smart enough, and gosh darn it, people like me…)

Eventually I learned the skills and bought the products (oh, the products) to become girlie. Or at least cute. I learned how to walk in heels, became comfortable in stockings, even occasionally wear jewelry. But by nature the most definitive instinct that supposedly exists for a female is still lacking. I am lacking a maternal instinct.

You know how someone comes into a room with a newborn and all the women start cooing at the baby and touching the baby and want to hold the baby…yeah no. I don’t love the baby smell, I don’t sense a longing for a child of my own, I do not wonder at the miracle of birth.

When I was in my late teens and early twenties and people would ask about kids I would always say “I don’t want children. I’M NOT SAYING I WON’T CHANGE MY MIND… I’m saying I have never wanted any and have a feeling I never will. AND I KNOW NEVER TO SAY NEVER.”

I had to 1) add in the defensive bit and 2) to yell because they inevitably would say, quite condescendingly “Oh, you’ll change your mind.” They just never could believe I could know myself well enough to make that kind of a statement.

Lordy, I always hated that.

Now that I am in my thirties my lack of desire to have children is easier to discuss in the open. Occasionally people still misinterpret my disinterest as a loss of hope in ever being in the right situation by the time the ole’ biological clock runs out. These days the doubters are much less common. Possibly because as I have gotten older I have so much going on and my life is so full. Maybe too my situation is a little more readily accepted because of prominent women figures that are admired despite their childlessness. (Gloria Steinem, Oprah…)

Who knows. All I can say is I never understood the allure of vanilla, but sure do love my chocolate. And I am so glad to be alive in a day and age where I am not burned at a stake or stoned to death for my “unnatural” views.

Oh, was that a bright side? Doh.

endurance

This morning, upon retrospect, I realized I have had drinks every night for a week.  Exciting life, diseased liver.

 

overwhelmed

The Apple job seminar was so exciting I almost cried. I would not be surprised if the entire time there was smoke coming out of my ears. The company is just so awesome, to work for them really would be a dream come true.

I asked some questions, some that were too sensitive to answer to the general public, which makes me nervous. Overall I think that they will call me for the next step, the small group interview. It looks like I really am overqualified for most of the positions they are hiring for, which just breaks my heart. It would be like seeing into heaven and then slamming the gates in my face.

Hope springs eternal.

Off I go to post-funeral lunch/wake/drinkfest to admit that I am not as strong tolerance-wise as boasted last night. Humility rocks.

hypothetical question

So if following a viewing for a dear departed irish loved one you were surrounded by seven strapping male second cousins and you yourself were the only female gender present, and - shot in hand - say you were to yell

"bring it on tommorow biyatches, I'll kick all your sorry asses!!!!"

Referring to drinks at the wake the next day, would you worry?

Aunt Margaret

The first time I ever came to New York was approximately 12 years ago when I was a grand age of 22 or so.  Three of my friends and two of my cousins decided to make the trip with me to celebrate new years eve in times square.  When I had initially mentioned my plans to my dad, he voiced that there was no need to find a hotel in the big apple, we had family to stay with.  Family which I had not seen since I was eight. 

 

At first I was wary, how do you call up people who are complete strangers and ask to stay for a few days with five people in tow?  I mean, they are family, but they are my dad's cousins...how removed is that?

 

Then my dad said the magic words:  "They are just like Aunt Pat, they love company."  My Aunt Pat LOVES entertaining, and with that I made the fated call. 

 

My god were these people excited to hear I was coming out.  Seems my dad was stationed in new york once upon a time when he was a young lad in the army, and he spent quite a bit of social time with these folks.  They adore my dad, and the excitement of having Reece's daughter out was almost too much for them to take. 

 

When we arrived to Tuckahoe we met the whole clan:  Joan and Ray, my dad's cousins, Ray Jr, Anthony, Jill and James (their kids) and of course Aunt Margaret, my dad's aunt and the matriarch of the Cooney/Meegan family.  We walked in that door and it was like coming home, they were so welcoming and generous.  It always amazes me how much family can have in common just because of our DNA. 

 

Right away we made the introductions and then IT WAS ON.  Drinks were handed out and we started playing asshole at 3pm, pre-gaming before we headed to the city for the ball drop.  Now, you know I felt right home since I could get to drinking right away.  It was just that much more amazing that all three generations were drinking and egging myself and my friends on. 

 

Then the moment of truth.  I lit up a cigarette, and realized my company.  Quickly I explained that my parents did not know I smoked, and asked my newfound family not to say anything.  My Great Aunt Maragret said in her raspy voice while laughing:

 

"Oh please.  I'm drinking and smoking and look at me!  I'm seventy-two and I'm fine!"

 

Awesome, absolutely awesome.  This really was my family.  It was the defining moment that I truly felt that I was among my own.

 

Aunt Margaret passed away this weekend, tonight I will be going to the viewing and hopefully attending the funeral tomorrow as well.  She was an amazing woman, and she lived long and full life.  The Irish family will all be coming together, and I'm sure that the joy she spread in her life will be celebrated and remembered with much aplomb.

 

Margaret B. Meegan

Born: November 27, 1921

Died: March 04, 2006

 

Services:Tuesday, March 7, 2006 at 9:30AM Immaculate Conception Church, Tuckahoe,NY Interment Woodlawn Cemetery

Visitation:Sunday 7-9PM Monday 2-4, 7-9PM

 

Margaret B. Meegan, nee O'Keefe, 84, died on March 4, 2006. Beloved wife of the late Joseph. Devoted mother of Peggy Dowd and her husband Pat, Joan Stabile and her husband Ray, the late Betty Ann Lubrino, Kathleen Cohn and her husband Walter and Grace Dellapi. Loving grandmother of seventeen. Cherished great grandmother of sixteen. Also surviving is Margaret's son-in-law, Ralph Lubrino. Friends may gather at Westchester Funeral Home, Inc., Eastchester on Sunday from 7-9 p.m. and Monday from 2-4 and 7-9 p.m. Mass of Christian Burial on Tuesday 9:30 a.m. at Immaculate Conception Church, Tuckahoe. Interment to follow at Woodlawn Cemetery

inspiration

Last night my bar night plans with my girlfriends didn't pan out, so I ended up watching Rent on DVD and tossing back a couple beers. The combination of the two resulted in the following, in order:

Light singing

Loud singing

Tears

Replaying the La Vie Boehm scene and acting out the dances in my living room

Replaying the Out Tonight scene and acting out the dance in my living room (very challenging endeavor)

Discovery and invention of speech for sister's wedding that made me cry

Determination I am an incredible speech-maker

Complete inability to recall said speech

Invention of blog post in my mind saying how much I miss Seattle Girl as she is such a neat person and cherished friend, making my self cry yet again due to my own verbal elegance

Texting DTH guy (named after the place of initial contact) saying "I miss the taste of your lips." Because such a normal thing to do.

Amazing how much one work of art can be the catalyst to so much.

Another inspiration I recently had to which I am utterly dumbfounded occurred yesterday morning. When discussing our next encounter, I offered to cook dinner for DTH guy.

Wha??? What the hell came out of my mouth? It isn't that I can't cook, I can follow a recipe, and even doctor it to make it better. It is that I honestly believe that paying someone else to do all the work is so worth it. Now I have to go shopping, prep and cook the damn meal, and then clean up. Since I am a bright side person, I am already looking to the challenge and adventure of it all, as I of course cannot prepare anything I already know how to make. Don't be silly, what would be the fun in that?

Said encounter is tonight, so off I go to find a recipe and get this thing off the ground. Wish me luck.

much love

All I gotta say is, I got five times the normal hits on my blog today than normal. Ya'll are dirty muthas. And that is why I am proud to call you my friends. :)

three times

Just in the first hour.

Oh my indeed. ;)

tribute

Yes, second day in a row without an original post from me, but this is too good to pass up.

I was forwarded this from Seattle Girl. How cool is that? Okay, maybe it is geek love, but that is the only love I know.

The date is still on for tomorrow night, so if all goes well no post until Friday. Oh, the suspense. Can you handle it?

vocabulary

My partner in crime Ali Girl gets credit for sending me this one from urban dictionary:

1. Nanogasm

Obsession and erotic enjoyment derived from the mere thinking of Apple(tm) Nano Ipod or its accessories

user1: until then, IPOD CASES!!!! Seriously. I’d get a nano just to have those SEXXXXAY cases.

user2: are we going or are you just going to have nanogasms

Extra tidbit, although my date for this Thursday owns a nano, I doubt those are the particular kind of 'gasms I'll be having by the end of the night.

Oh my!

too good to be true?

Okay, so I got this via email today, and nearly passed out. I was hyperventilating from excitement.

Am I an Apple Rockstar? Do people like working with me?? Do I live the iLife????

Oh, all those dreams of working for apple...

Now the question is what job are they shopping me for? Really, this is a retail environment, after all. I am hoping management or back of house. Please please please let them not be shopping me for part time cashier work. My god my resume has too much good stuff for that. One would think.

And yes, I am going to the seminar to check this opportunity out. I can't not see what is up. C'mon.

misconceptions

I have this thing, a talent for setting people at ease. As mentioned in that personality test I took, I am great at "easily picking up the gestures, facial expressions and speech patterns of others."

This ability comes in really handy most of the time. I make friends easily, am good at helping others feel better about themselves, and am able to get things done more efficiently by alleviating people roadblocks.

Now add to my skill the fact that by default I like everyone. I honestly believe that there are amazing and interesting things about most people, and cherish those unique boons. It takes a lot for me not to like someone. So you know they must be the bizzaro world version of me if they become my nemesis.

The thing is that sometimes I feel guilty about my talent, because in some ways I am deceiving others. By mimicking them they see themselves in me, and that is not necessarily who I really am. For example, everyone whom I interview for a job thinks they've got it, because we got along so well. After meeting me people always guess my age as being close to theirs, as how could I really be ten years older when we are so on the same wavelength?

Now combine that with the fact that I have a really hard time trusting people. It takes a lot of time and patience for me to start confiding real things in new people. So although I have a lot of friends, only a few know the real me. I suppose that is not so abnormal, but I did not start out this way. I gave so much to so many people and got burned so many times I just learned to shut down. In some ways I miss having the ability to be more giving, but not enough to give up the safety and security of my ivory tower so far away from being taken advantage of.

Another disadvantage is I often distrust the affection of others. I really believe that what most people like in me is that mirror reflection. This gets more confusing when the affection is from a suitor. You know, I used to flirt a lot. I stopped that a couple of years ago. I mean, combine sexuality with my super-reflective powers and all kinds of misconceptions and hurt feelings are soon to follow.

So what is a girl to do when it comes to dating? Just let go and trust someone else's perceptive abilities, I suppose. Which is harder, to former or the latter? I don't know, I'll keep you all posted on that one.

inhibitions

Ah, tequila. Wondrous beverage derived from cacti. Last night I went to a friend's birthday party, and this was her shot of choice.

As a person known to imbibe from time to time, I have observed that different alcohols give a different kind of drunk. Wine is a chill buzz, beer a stupid one, vodka cuts like a knife, and jager just makes the world glow. Oh, but tequila. So good, yet so so bad.

I remember my first time with this beverage. I was a spry 21, living in Warren, and was throwing my first New Years Eve party with my roommates. My cousins Joe and Paul came, tequila bottle in hand. We had several shots in conjunction to playing some spinning quarter game. I was feeling pretty good (translate - completely knackered), but then noticed the party was getting awfully loud. Immediately I was able to ascertain the cause - the TV was on and the volume on high, thus people had to raise their voices to be heard over it. Well, I am fervently opposed to TVs being on at parties, so I got up, walked over to the TV, and shut it off.

And was yelled at very loudly by all in attendance. See, this was a New Years Eve party, and I had just turned off the TV in the middle of the countdown, ten seconds before the ball hit bottom.

Smooth.

Back to last night. Oh, sweet nectar of the agave. I had a couple shots, drank a little beer, played (and lost) a little beer pong. And the creature came out. You know, the ass-grabbing creature.

Four years ago I was still working at Tuscan, and my uniform included a very tight pair of stretchy silky black pants. I was about fifteen pounds heavier, and definitely very bootylicious. As I never have been a retreating violet, and I was known to partake in sexual innuendos with my coworkers, one day I decided to have an ass-grabbing contest.

Everyone was given a chance to grab my ass, and I would judge the best technique.

Too be honest, this was a fun game.

The winner was my friend Rudy, who at the time was in the fifteenth year of his relationship with the same woman. He had obviously learned a thing or two over the years.

Since learning this method, I have been known on occasion to share the wealth with others I know. As I have moved up in the ranks at my job I try to do this less often, as in some circles this kind of thing can be construed as sexual harassment. Me teaching this always results in large numbers of people 1) grabbing my ass 2) having their asses grabbed by other people, 3) watching or being subject to me groping a handful of tush. (Get it, handful? ahahahaahha)

Now, combine the fact I have not had any action in a while, the inclusion of tequila, and the repeated grabbing and rubbing. This may or may not have resulted in me making out with someone for a half hour at the bar. And it may or may not have resulted in this someone coming home with me last night. And it may or may not have resulted in various stages of nudity. And it may or may not have resulted in plans for more of the same later this week.

As they said in Grey's Anatomy, now the beast is awake, and it wants to be fed.

tactile

I learned in college that when you touch, taste, or smell something in your dreams, you really experience them as in waking life. See, all sensation has to travel to your brain, where it is received and then interpreted. So technically, if all those sensors go off in your brain regardless of where they originated, how are you to know the difference between reality and fiction?

Normal people who dream have a kind of block that stops the action/reaction sensors that go off in the brain from traveling to the rest of the body and causing movement. Thus why this was discussed in my psych class, because people without the block would sleepwalk.

Ahhhhhhhhhh.

Knowing this kind of puts a whole new spin on dreaming. It makes sense that sometimes you wake up and are confused because a dream just seemed so real. Of course it did, to your brain it was!!

So last night I had a rather intense dream about a guy seducing me. It was one of those dreams that seemed to last forever, and you can remember every detail. Oh, and it was hot. I didn't want to give in, and I held back. But he was just too good, and eventually I just didn't want to say no anymore. Really it was all about the chase, and how much I enjoyed it. The pursuit was slow and sensual. Eventually I was won over, (and over), and then woke up. Perfect timing. Stretch, grin...

Freeze. It was about a real guy, a guy I know. It was totally unexpected, I never would have guessed this guy would have ended up in my dreams, but he did.

This has happened to all of you before, don't lie.

By god, next time I see him I am going to blush and stutter like a fool, and he will have no idea why. How can I not, when those sensations were real, even if only for me?

No, I'm not going to tell you who the mystery man is, but if you catch me in the act of the uber-blush and call me out, I will spill the beans. Just cause I know you all love a challenge. (Shouldn't be too hard, I am rarely flustered!)

job security

You know, a few years ago when I was still an assistant I would often say to people that I wanted to get paid to think, not to do. It was necessary to go through the doing to learn how to think correctly for a specific business, of course.  But that is how you get ahead, by being an idea person, someone with solutions.

 

Since my last promotion, I am definitely responsible for more thinking, but still I am still overworked because there are still things I have to do.  Reports to create, data to analyze, things to make work.

 

I just came up with an idea that may put me one step closer to full time thinking.  And to think you don't need to put in overtime.

Woo hoo!

double entendre

My sister and her fiancé have two dogs, Molly and Murphy, both girlie types. (I know you wanted me to say bitches, but they are such sweet furry things.)

My sister has been known to talk about her dogs. A lot. It is love, sheer love. Devotion. And sometimes a bit of something else.

As a late birthday gift, I sent her a little something from Neighborhoodies, a way cool local shop for customized gear. Their website is super user friendly, the choices are stellar, and the product high quality. Oh, and the customer service rocks. I mean, just check out this email they sent me when I placed my order...

Dearest Bridget,

Welcome to the magical world of Neighborhoodies.

Things are a little different here than in the outside world. For instance.

When your order arrives and you, with a maniacal anticipation, bust open the package:

1. you will laugh out loud with delight
2. you will never want to take off your neighborhoodie.
seriously. you will sleep in it for days.
3. you will tell everyone who you know about this amazing site.
4. strangers will approach you on the street and ask you where you got such awesomeness. sheesh, don't be such a wiseacre - tell them about us; it's how we grow together.
5. remember! neighborhoodies is not a cult. it's just the way things ought to be.
We craft each order, lovingly, by hand, one at a time, in our Brooklyn studios.

Thanks for becoming a customer. Neighborhoodies wants to be your favorite company of all time.

If you have any questions, send us an email to love@neighborhoodies.com


cheers!
-michael
(founder)

So knowing my sister has this intense love for her pets, what could I possibly put on a hoodie for her? Then it hit me. Awwwww yeah....



In case you can't quite read, it says "ask me about my girls". Oh yes, it all comes together. See, it is written across her chest in pink...her girls...you know...

This of course was not the only photo sent to me -



Once again, all about the woofies. Gotta love the sister for her puppy love.

Oh, and they do doggie outfits and underwear too. Gifts for years! Or at least as long as I can come up with witty ideas to pay someone else to stitch on fabric.

They just keep coming

Here is the email I received from my brother yesterday morning:

Subject: We have baby!

Hello, all!

The Cooneys of Redford have a new baby: Teresa Rose Cooney was born this morning at 8 lbs 4 oz. and 20.5 inches. After Teresa's daddy gets a bit of sleep, pictures on cooneysite.com will be forthcoming.

Pete & Mary C

That would be number four on their part.  And they don't plan on stopping any time soon.  They alone will repopulate the earth with Catholics.

ode to Jack LaLanne

Last Thursday I woke up and I knew it. I was coming down with something. My head was heavy, I could feel the germs gathering force at the back of my throat.

Oh no, not my birthday weekend!

I spent all day popping Tylenol, knowing that after my bar night I had the whole weekend to recover. This is the year of health; I do not want to be sick all the time anymore. Hells no.

Friday I slept all day. The germination had not progressed, but was still present.

Same situation Saturday when I awoke. I got up, went to the gym, struggled through a workout. Then I hit the Amish Market and bought my salvation. Ingredients to my power juice. I came home and made my elixir. That night I hit the town with my peeps, we all went to Dead Poets, of which I have heard many wonderful things but myself had never experienced. Turns out I got to drink for free as I share a birthday with a famous literary figure.

Sunday I woke up, made and drank more juice. I again rested all day, even though the germs in the back of my throat seemed to be losing force, no need to tempt the army to one last charge.

For those of you out of the loop, last year I went on a liquid fast lasting two weeks for the health benefits. I bought the Jack LaLanne Juicer, and discovered that guy is not a quack. Myself having a *slightly* flawed digestive system, I was amazed at the difference drinking the fresh juice of fruits and vegetables had to simply having a very healthy diet or even taking vitamins. Not only did I feel better as a result of my actions, but also I have not had an episode since. (Knock on wood.)

But I digress.

Today I woke up, and by god I am better. I am ecstatic! Once again I have had my faith in the juice reinforced. Not that I necessarily want to live as long as Mr. L, but I'd like to feel relatively healthy while I am still kicking.

Just in case you are curious, here is my recipe for the uber juice.

five regular carrots
a bunch of kale
one medium beet
one cup strawberries
two cups red grapes
two fuji apples

Yes, this actually tastes good, like grape apple juice. Gotta love the natural sugar.

Things to keep in mind - if you user a blender instead of a juicer you will make one disgusting fiber filled drink. Just don't do it. Also, the sooner you consume after you make it the better, juices somehow magically leak their nutrients into the air once made, losing potency very quickly. My scientific mind does not understand this concept, but if the LaLanne says so, it must be.

the anatomy of fictitious men

What is it in that second X chromosome which makes women innately love chick flicks? Or at least the romantic leads involved in them? Heathcliff, Mr. Darcy (Pride and Prejudice or Bridget Jones version), Doctor Zhivago, Lloyd Dobbler. The archetype of the love tortured, faithful and true, strong yet sensitive male.

It isn't that they are mirages. Great fiction is based on what is true. Many of these famous characters are even created by men. I have myself met many of these mythical creatures, and even dated a couple.

The fact that they are rare is what keeps us hooked. That and the fact they are two dimensional on screen, free of flaws, fated to utter incomplete perfection.

Now that I have lured you in with my educated ruminations, I bring you back to the base reason I started this debate. The men of Grey's Anatomy - whom we so lust for but yet if we dealt with in reality would so suck.

Let's start with the obvious - Dr. Alex Karev.

Why we love him - He's the bad boy with the hidden sensitive side. You know, the one who will change for you. Also, as the bad boy he clearly presents with an animal magnetism, his sexuality worn on his sleeve. Nummy.

Why in reality he sucks - They never change for you, that is crap. Also, his forewarned hidden sensitive interior will lose the battle to the harsh outside one every time it really matters. You will be hurt and betrayed over and over again, as maybe you should for expecting anyone to morph for you.

The flip side, Dr. Preston Burke

Why we love him - He's the guy who falls for you just because you are there. You push him away and push him away again, yet he just wants to get to know you. You complete him. His obvious perfection was a fallacy, he needs to use every ounce of emotional energy he has to prove to his true love that even though he has no idea what you are really like inside, he loves every ounce of that hidden darkness.

Why in reality he sucks - Let's see, the guy is a world class cardiac thoracic surgeon. He is in impeccable shape. He probably saves puppies and kittens in his spare time. The man is addicted to challenge, and once you cease to be one, he'll find another.

The longing side, Dr. George O'Malley

Why we love him - He thinks of you first. He gets you, he really does. Because he watches you, thinks about you all of the time. He is a sensitive guy, always there for his friends and loved ones, always taking one for the team. He is utterly devoted to you.

Why in reality he sucks - This guy never gets the girl. He pines and pines and waits and waits and misses his window. By the time he actually gets his gumption up to say something, he has stored up so much pent up emotion that he freaks the chick out and she turns him down flat. As much as I love the piner, the very thing that makes him in theory appealing in reality makes him undatable.

Finally, the romantic lead, Dr. Derek Shepherd

Why we love him - He is sensitive, smart, strong, and a romantic. He is also very moralistic, so much so that he pulls away from a woman he loves to make his marriage to a philanderer work. And when he looks into your eyes he sees your soul. Most importantly, he is mysterious. Oh, what ideas lurk behind those baby blues?

Why in reality he sucks - He wants what he cannot have. The grass is always greener, and when he gets close enough to you your lawn looks like it needs to be watered. And that mystery? It is the potential you fell for, not the reality.

The key to a good romantic movie or book is one believable romantic male lead and the key to a good TV series is several. The show inevitably has to jump the shark – not because the writers get stale or uninspired, but because eventually when we get to know the characters long enough we see more of the flaws than the fantasies.

I’ll still enjoy it while it lasts. I know who my favorite is, who is yours? (Men in this case would be even more interesting to hear from, but so much less likely to have anyting to share.)

good times

The party went off without a hitch - I have so much gratitude for those who were able to come, it is wonderful to feel so well liked and appreciated. Seeing everyone was wonderful, and I was so flattered that everyone made the effort to come out. Looking at all the wonderful people surrounding me, I cannot help but feel like a success in life.

That being said, nothing that constitutes great gossip happened. I had enough foresight to drink the mother's milk, guinness, the whole night. This helped me from drinking my way over the edge. Also, I had but one shot throughout the evening, of jagermeister, which has always treated me well. Seeing and talking to everyone was great fun, and I believe everyone enjoyed themselves a bit.

Great way to start a year, I tell ya. As for today, I laid around on my ass and it was great. I slept almost all day.

Tomorrow is my actual birthday, and it seems RFW has worked out quite an agenda. She definitely is going above and beyond, which at first makes me squirm, as I do have to work on being able to accept the generosity of others.

bring it

Tomorrow is my birthday party.

It

Will

Rock

And if you all are lucky, I will remember some of the greatness and be able to blog about it.

in your honor

As an early birthday gift (but yet oh so appropriate that it has been shown to me on v-day), ali girl - my work partner in crime - has led me to the best thing ever.

A special item named for me.

Awwwww yeah. Bow chinka bow bow.

in like flynn

flynn must have been a very busy man...

shout out

Bacon, this one's for you. Just for the title, really.