Hollow Weiner

I've been bad, I know. Sorry.

I've been busy... with working and stuff... and I had an interview yesterday for that Atlanta job so we'll see.

Halloween was good. I had two trick or treators, princesses in sweatpants and tiarras. Even thought it was about 80 degrees out. They each got about 5 tons of candy, since I was pretty sure that was about it for the night.

Other than that, the next month might be a little sporadic. I will eventually get back on track with the nonsense but in the meantime, everyone just chill!

The Full Monte Cristo

I've had a rough few weeks. So I've been slacking with the updating. My bad.

The one bright spot was a totally awesome visit to Disneyland with my good friends Betty and Whitey. We had a completely righteous time. Checked out the Nightmare Before Christmas holiday overlay on the Haunted Mansion ride, which was completely coolio as always. My only criticism is I really dig having the ghost guys at the end because I really enjoy sticking my toungue in their ear or fondling them. The holiday overlay gives you a present or a jack in the box or something lame like that, and what nasty things can I do with that? Not much. Meh.

We also went to the Blue Bayou where I ate the most delicious sammich ever created, the monte cristo. That thing is like an unholy union of fat and carbs. It's like the bastard offspring of a donut and a hoagie, and I love it. I ate half of it and still walked around all day uncomfortably full.

I also went on the new space mountain, which I have to say was definatly not improved to the point it justified being closed down for as long as I can remember. And I miss the Dick Dale rockin surf guitar soundtrack that it used to have. That was awesome!


So, what do all you guys know about Atlanta? I'm looking at a job possibility there now.

Working for the Weekend

Yes, I'm feeling a lot better, thanks.

Still a little cough and runny nose but I feel fine, which is all I can ask for.

I felt well enough to get dragged on a little downtown Disney shopping trip with Erin. She got a raise and is now officially in the 100K club. But, she works at a firm and is miserable so no jealousy from me.

So we went out and had the dinner and drinks thing which she paid for and was awesome for a change not to have to fish out my wallet at the end of dinner and realize how much the damn drinks cost. Oh, and this girl ran up to me and smack into a wall. I was laughing hysterically at her stupid drunk ass when she did the only thing she had as a defense mechanism, puked all over herself. I was still laughing until I realized she was pretty close to me and that was gross. Ew. Go away vomit girl.

The next morning we hit up Sephora. OK, actually, we stopped and had brunch and I had one too many mimosas which led to an error in judgment on my part.

I bought a moisturizer, and I didn't check to make sure it was ok by opening the lid. So when I get home, of course someone had ripped the lid off and stuck their dirty finger in there. Savages. THEN I open my Bare Escentuals starter kit and it was all screwed up, too. There was two of the same exact thing and no top coat. Mother of Pearl.

So the next morning I have to trudge back to Sephora and exchange everything. And I "forgot" the cleanser that was in the kit I was returning. Hey, I had to go all the way back there, and everything I bought was fucked up. I consider that a token compensation for my time. Bastages. Snotty sales girl gave me a hard time over it until I dragged the manager over there. I'm rich, bitch! Ok, I'm poor but dammit, mind me.

Go to my good friend Betty's and wish her a happy birthday, already! Assuming of course she's not the only person who reads my blog. In which case, happy birthday, DEEJ!

Sick Day Blues

I starting getting sick last night, and this morning awoke with a raging head cold. I called (actually, emailed) in sick.

Because it's me, things didn't go the way I planned.

This morning, I decided since I was up and had the whole day, I would get my unemployment appeal paperwork off my back. Since the hearing is Friday, I wanted to go to Kinko's, print out the appeal I spent a few days writing and revising, and Fedex it to make sure it got there in plenty of time. Sounds like a reasonable plan, right?

So I drag my butt out of the house in yoga pants and a fat chick sweatshirt, with my unwashed hair tied in a knot. Hey, lay off me, I'm sick. I managed to print out the paperwork, find an airbill, fill it out, and wait an inordinate amount of time to get helped. I made sure to seal the envelope so that the creepy Fed ex guy didn't get a chance to read all my personal business.

He types in the address, then looks at my airbill and frowns. "it says the zip code doesn't match the address," he tells me. I look at the notice of hearing I have from the court, and say "92802?" That's right. He then snatches the paper out of my hand, and proceeds to peruse the entire document, flipping through the pages and obviosly reading the sordid details of my current battle with my former employer. I was so pissed. And normally, he would have gotten an ear full from me, but I was standing there, looking like shit warmed over, with my head in a fog, and just didn't know what to do. Actually, it's not true. I knew what to do. I just couldn't do it. I didn't have the strength. He then proceeded to call 411 and ask a bunch of stupid and useless questions, loudly asking for THE UNEMPLOYMENT APPEALS BOARD (like there is only one of them in the country), then slamming down the phone angrily when the operator couldn't read his mind.

So, after looking at my paperwork way too long to see that the address, which was clearly on the front page and clearly the same as I had written, was not a mistake, he told me he couldn't help me because the computer would not let him enter it. Jackass. How dare you make me feel like a looser. You work at Kinko's.

So, I go over to the computers to look up the address on the internet, but of course when I put my credit card in, the thing flipped out and mooned me, then crashed.

So, I called the number listed on the paperwork (which stupid yelly nosy guy ALSO had, and could have called instead of 411, I guess), and the reasonably intelligent woman told me to just fax it, and gave me the number.

Of course, the fax machine had a paper jam, and then ran out of paper. I grabbed a stack of cover letters sitting next to the machine and shoved them in upside down, so I could get my confirmation. Fuckers.

Then I waited again in an unreasonably long line to pay my three bucks for sending a fax.

I got home and flopped on the bed, ready to pass out. Then the banging started.

It seems my upstairs neighbors picked today to fix the plumbing in their apartment which has been royally fucked up since last Christmas. Thanks, assholes. Could you maybe bring in a marching band and give me something to really bitch about?

Around 2 it started to quiet down, so I laid down for a whole half hour before I was awoken by three strange men in my bedroom who looked at me like I didn't have any right to be there, then said "Fire sprinkler inspection". Granted, one of them was a fireman and HOT, but still. And of course, I looked like crap.

So now the whole day is pretty much shot. I didn't really get any rest and I still feel like crap. Tomorrow I will go to work where at least it's quiet. However, no hot firemen will magically appear in my bedroom, either.

Feedback Buffet

What I learned this week.

Corporate is the way to go. First, people automatically fear and respect you because you aren't dealing with 500 other asshole lawyers. ALSO... and it took me awhile to realize this... because you're doing transactional work, it doesn't matter where you are sworn in! FREEDOM! HORRIBLE HORRIBLE FREEDOM!

However, if there is a downside, it's that you have to learn the lingo. For example, there are no problems in the corporate world. There are challenges. And there is no criticism. There is feedback. Although, I have to say, I love it. I love sugar coated euphemisms that make those bitter little pills go down so smooth. Ahhh.

And yes, using my new found vocabulary, I managed to get paid. Because when I finally got a date I could expect a check, it was September 25th. And I've been working there since mid-August. I pulled out the big guns, and calmly told them that this was going to be a PROBLEM. Oh shit! She said problem! You know it's serious! Well, they got some feedback, let's just say.

And about the fruit fly saga... It seems that, at some point in my life, I purchased a potato. I'm not exactly sure why I did that. But, a potato was bought. Sometime in the last two years, said potato fell behind some boxes my roommate has in the bottom of the pantry. While there, the potato was fed by every negative vibe ever produced from the dank hole of sorrows that is my life. The potato grew into something horrific and foul. It grew spindly arms and legs, and began to shift it's nature from solid to a sort of festering sludge apparently desirable to the incorrectly termed fruit fly.

The potato is now gone. Fruit flies have mostly disappeared too, although I saw a few stragglers today apparently mourning the loss of what must be, to a fly, the equivalent of getting comped at a Vegas buffet. I can see the fruit flies now, in their powdered wigs, arguing about whether that trough holds tapioca or bread pudding.

Aww, I feel almost bad about hunting them down with a can of Raid.

Using My Curse Word Allocation For the Year

Someone smarter than me once said that hope is the belief that things will get better.

Between national news and the never-ending shit storm that is my life, I'm having a real hard time believing it right now.

First, why is it that anytime I have a job which is reasonably acceptable and doesn't make me want to kill myself eight times a day, they can't quite grasp the concept that they are supposed to pay me? I'm not doing this for a hobby motherfuckers! It's been three weeks and no green! Make with the fucking dough, asswipes! Today I wandered the halls trying to figure out what the hell is going on and got mostly blank stares, and so-and-so is in a meeting and I'll ask him for you as soon as he gets out. My rent check is going to bounce like a fucking crazy ball cocksuckers!!

AND those fucking fruit flies won't leave me the hell alone... .

With all this plus the hurricane stories ripping my guts out lately it is really hard to maintain my fucking natural cheery ass disposition.

Everyone just do what the fuck you are supposed to do and nobody gets hurt, dig? FEMA dude, you are supposed to respond on the FEDERAL level to national EMERGENCIES. I assume that's what the FE stands for and not "fucking eeediot". Fruit flies, you go harass some fucking fruit. I have no fruit in my house except one pathetic grapefruit that is hidden in the crisper drawer getting moldy so you got no beef with me. Accounts payable.... guess why we call you that? PAY MY ASS! If everyone just does their own fucking job, I can pay my own bills and not have to hide from fucking Citibank.

Why are you still reading? GET TO WORK, FUCKERS!

The War at Home

Arielle's father thinks she, (and, by association, I guess I) need a gun.

Not that I have anything against them in the abstract... but guns make me nervous. Mostly because I am that person that "those things" happen to, like someone breaks in while I'm asleep, and before I even know they are there I'm looking down the barrel at my own weapon.

Which begs the question, how are you supposed to feel safe anymore? Gee, we created a department of homeland security and although it seems that extra layer of bureaucracy did a bang up job in the gulf (yeah, by that I mean our OWN gulf) somehow I don't feel safe in my homeland anymore. The thought that when California finally succumbs to the "big one", the probability of getting the help I need from the people who are supposed to do that sort of thing kind of strikes me as not all that probable.

But, everyone is ranting about that. My point is that although I don't feel protected by my government, I think I feel less safe taking steps to ensure my own survival if it means I have to keep something in my home that makes me ill even at the thought.

If there is a bright side, I thank God that my problems are so petty in comparison.

Because right now my biggest issue is the fact I someone managed to cultivate a colony of fruit flies in my kitchen. They seem to like the sink, even though there are no dishes in there and I have no idea what the hell they are living on. .

I'm lighting a candle every night for all the people affected by this terrible tragedy. Please, if you have a few dollars to give, go here and do so.