Realizations

• If I keep coloring my hair, I'll only know when I start going grey by the pubes.
• I can stand more pain than I ever thought.
• My list of plants for my herb garden is up to 13. That's not counting varieties of the same herb like chocolate mint or curly parsley or purple basil.
• Sam is too wide for my old laptop bag. I have to put all my stuff from my tote bag/purse into that, and put Sam in my tote bag for the trip home.
• I have 2 lunch dates this week. I'm so chuffed it's pathetic.
• I am addicted to Godiva's double chocolate raspberry truffle.
• I never ate lunch because I was too nauseous from all the codeine.
• Now that I've got an early morning appointment with a back doctor, it is feeling decidedly better and I'm going to feel like a fraud going in there.
• I'd rather be a fraud than in pain, thus proving I have no shame.
• I'm pathetically excited and in love with Sam. At least now I can let it out in the open and declare it for the world to know.
• And Sam is definitely male.

Ah, the Power of Brown

Brown has virtually cured my back pain. How? you ask. Easy.

I am posting this from my brand new laptop. Everyone, say hi to SAM. Sam is a new Dell B130 laptop with a huge widescreen, internal wireless, 512 MB RAM, 40 GB hard drive. And suddenly, my back doesn't feel half as bad as it did before. Must be those endorphins.

See, I'm already in love with Sam, but I really am trying not to let him or her know it yet. I mean, I haven't even figured out if Sam is male or female yet! Really, don't you think one should wait to declare their undying love until they at least know the gender of their beloved? So you can see why we need to keep this on the down low, at least for now.

OK, I've got to get back to "work" on my work puter. I'll talk to y'all more later. After Sam and I have become better, ahem, acquainted. *smirk*

Please send muscle relaxers

Sorry, kids, my lower back is killing me to the point that I can't stand up straight or walk without great pain and difficulty. Consequently I'm going home to self-medicate with codeine because all the ibuprofen I've taken ain't doin' a fucking thing.

Hopefully I'll be back tomorrow, which is, coincidentally, when my new laptop will be delivered to work. Finally.

Arrivederci.

You know what's really frustrating?

Tracking your laptop on the UPS website and seeing that it's only 15 miles away, but not being able to pick it up there. Then calling the 800 number and having them tell you that you can't change delivery until it reaches its final destination, which is only 9 miles away. So you sit and refresh the UPS website tracking page like a crack addict waiting for it to get to the final destination. Meanwhile you use the trip planner on the Metro website to figure out how to get to the pick up center before they close at 7 pm.

HURRY UP AND GET THERE ALREADY, DAMMIT.

I told you I was impatient. I could wait until Monday, when it's supposed to be delivered. But I can't. Because that would mean yet another weekend with no computer. And that would just be wrong. I might have to do more apartment organizing or something then.

*sigh*

Edited to say: Just found out after an entire day of anticipation that I wouldn't be able to pick it up until Monday either. So basically I'm screwed. Another weekend of apartment organizing and cooking, I suppose.

No Spoilers, Please!

And I'm not just talking about the ladies' free skate result at the Olympics, either! Although I am trying my damnedest not to look at any media outlets online, but it really is sooooo hard.

But like a true friend, Tessa has tagged me for Five Food Challenges to keep me occupied for a little bit. This is actually kind of difficult because I do cook a lot. Like every day, or at least 6 days a week. But here it goes:

1. Learn how to make candy. I would really love this, but I know it's pretty exacting and precise. Then again, I seem to excel at things exacting and precise, so perhaps it's right up my alley, or grocery aisle. I think I'll try chocolates first, and if I can master that, I'll move on to taffies and hard candies. Put your orders in early for truffles.
2. Preserve the recipes for the foods that have become beloved family traditions. These include baked macaroni and cheese, apple cake, strawberry freezer jam, berry cobbler, pork roast with white beans (they might be navy beans, I forget), the coating for our fried oysters, cranberry and walnut salad, and lots more. These are all things that various family members are known for, but every time you ask for a recipe, they just spout off "Oh, you do this, then throw in some of that, and a little of this other . . ." because they've done it for years. But if no one actually pins them down on at least approximate amounts, temperatures and cook times, these could all be lost. And that would really be a culinary shame.
3. Grow my own herbs. We all know that fresh herbs can make a dish absolutely sublime. Surely they can't be that hard to grow? Even for someone like me with a black thumb. I'll at least try. Can you grow garlic bulbs in a window box? I love me some garlic!
4. Learn to cook some new ethnic recipes. I love Thai, Vietnamese and Indian foods, but I've never attempted cooking them. I think the unusual and exotic herbs intimidate me. Maybe I'll start with Tom Ka Gai. That seems simple enough.
5. Bake my own bread, and not with a breadmaker. I've never had a breadmaker, so that part's already accomplished, LOL! And as much as I love baking, I've never attempted my own bread. I think I'm intimidated by blooming the yeast, then proofing the dough, etc. But really, how much could it hurt to fail? Maybe $3 in ingredients and a few hours?

So there are my five food challenges for myself. And now I think I'm supposed to tag some more people? Okay, I think I'll tag Jo, Machiruda, Iggy, and Chimera. Cheers, ladies!

Happiness is . . .

• freshly brewed coffee ready when you wake up thanks to a programmable coffeemaker
• a Godiva chocolate store around the corner from work
• a 50% off shoe sale found at lunch
• realizing that I'm not really broke and haven't been for a long, long time
• planning a proper holiday
• getting a lovely free crystal beaded table lamp
• having a whole apartment to myself again

Only one bad note for today: if I hadn't gone and ordered a new laptop (found on eBay), I would have been able to get those absolutely divine Marc Jacobs pumps I found at 50% off in addition to just the boring black loafer-style travel-to-work shoes I got. T, I'm sorry, I let you down. Maybe they'll be there when I get paid next week.

A New Sort of Olympics

You know, it really is damn near impossible to get away from the fact that the Winter Olympics are taking place. You'd have to practically remove yourself from society and go live in the woods with no tv, no radio, no news sources at all. Basically, go live under a rock somewhere.

But still, I like them. For as much as the hype is ridiculous and initially turned me completely off, I can't stop watching. Sometimes even on nights when there isn't figure skating! Some of the new sports are pretty cool, I must say. Snowboard cross, for one. One person I know described it as a kind of roller derby on ice. I think her inference was that it was low class or something, but I think that's why I like it. See, that's me. I like either the things that are high falutin', like figure skating, or trailer park, like snowboard cross.

And then there are some sports that just make me think, These people are really fucking insane. Like ski jumping and freestyle aerials. Or anything where you launch yourself off a perfectly good snowpack into the air for absolutely no good reason. It's insanity, I tell you!

Therefore, I think we need a new Olympics just for the insane. I mean, we've got the original, grandaddy of them, the Summer Olympics. Then there's the Winter Olympics, so the Canucks and Scandinavian countries can win some stuff. There's the Paralympics for the physically challenged. And, of course, the Special Olympics, for the kids riding the short bus.

But what about these insane people throwing themselves off mountains? They need their own Olympics, dammit.

I'd call them the Manic Olympics, but NOW and all the militant lesbian feminists would come back and say, Why not the Womanic Olympics? Hey, I didn't name mania, go talk to the ancient Greeks.

Maybe we could call them the Shock Therapy Olympics. Or ECTOlympics. Wait, that sounds like some sort of Olympics for Ghost Busters.

I dunno, but we need another one. Any ideas for names?

How to Get Y Really Fucking Pissed Off

Leave a message on my voicemail telling me that your supplier only had a limited number of laptops available and they are all out and you won't be getting any more at that wonderful price, and so will be crediting the $$ back to my Visa.

Staples are FUCKERS. Don't buy anything from them. They will be going on my Shit List as soon as I figure out how to add one here.

It's called attitude an' shit, yo!

A long, long time ago, way back in my 'tween years, I read a seemingly innocuous book. If you're female, you probably read one just like it, too. You know the kind: gangly ugly duckling teenage girl suddenly becomes the most popular girl in school, head cheerleader and Prom Queen. How did she do it? She transformed herself from the shy ugly duckling by acting, pretending that she was outgoing and confident. Of course, she did other things, too, like wear different clothes and cut her hair, wear makeup, etc. But the premise was that even if she had done those things, they alone would not have been enough. It was the attitude.

This book captured my attention and filled my head with possibility and hope. See, I was that gangly ugly duckling 'tween girl in school. I was too skinny, my hair was long and straight with no discernable style. I wore super thick glasses. I had braces. I got the best grades, and (this is by far the worst sin I committed) I was proud of those grades. But I never wanted to be that girl. Nobody ever does, do they? I wanted to be the popular girl. Or at least not the one that got made fun of anymore.

So I did what any smart cookie who's a little over the edge would do: I performed a little experiment. I wanted to see if this would actually work in real life, or if it was just another bad teen girl book waiting to become an after school special. I cut my hair. I got contacts. I started wearing makeup and fashionable clothes. (oh, my aunt loved it, she had so much fun teaching me how to shop!) And I got attitude. I acted. I pretended to be confident. I pretended to be happy. I made myself smile at people who had previously done nothing but intimidate me. I forced myself to talk to the popular people beyond just letting them copy my geometry proofs.

And guess what. By the end of that year, my experiment was a success. I was part of the "in" crowd. I was popular. I learned a life lesson.

Attitude works.

This is something I've carried with me ever since then. When I've gotten depressed, I've pretended to be happy, and I end up being happy. When I feel fat and bloated, I pretend I'm taller and slimmer than I am, and I end up feeling great and meeting tons of guys. When I'm unsure of myself or scared, I pretend that I'm confident and know exactly what I'm doing, and it works out.

But it's something I forgot for a long time and only really regained with the dawning of the new year. I made my list of things I want to achieve and started working on some of them. However, I was only really going at it half-assed until my friend A recommended me for this new job I am currently revelling in. It wasn't really until I decided that I was going to go for it and take this job, no matter what, that I found attitude again.

Yeah, I prepared for the interview like I've never prepared for any other interview. (Okay, I really never have prepared for any other interview, but that's beside the point here. Stay with me!) But I decided in my mind that I was getting this job. I walked in and interviewed with 7 different people for over 2 hours, and I acted like I was interviewing them. I owned that interview, yo!

And I decided to quit smoking. Since the day I quit, I've had one cigarette at a party, and a few more out one night with A. I don't want them in the morning with my coffee now. I don't want one when I get home. I don't want them at all. Not even with my wine. Come to think of it, I don't even want that anymore, either. Not like I did. I just decided. And that was that.

And that taking care of myself stuff. And taking control of my life stuff. I did it. I am doing it. I feel so much more confident about myself, both emotionally and physically. People actually notice me again when I strut by.

All because I DECIDED.

Your mind is a really incredible, phenomenal thing. It's really amazing just what you can do when you decide to do it.

And if you read this and you think I'm talking to you with that last part, then there's something that you want to do. So don't just go try to do it. DECIDE to do it.

It's called attitude. Go cop one and see what you can do.

How to outsmart yourself

• Step 1: Order much-anticipated, long-awaited beautiful new laptop computer at super deal with free shipping
• Step 2: Note that estimated delivery date is Monday, February 20
• Step 3: Realize that there will not be anyone at home to accept said delivery
• Step 4: Decide to have said laptop delivered to work
• Step 5: Slap self in head when you realize MONDAY IS A FEDERAL HOLIDAY and the office is closed.
• *sigh*

Contest: Name That Laptop

Okay, there's the little darling that will be winging its way (or delivered by a hopefully yummy delivery man) to me in the next few days. While I'm sitting around praying for it to arrive here at the office on Friday instead of when they say it will, that being Monday, let's have a contest to name it. It looks kind of masculine to me, so I think it needs a male name. Deposit your entries in the comments thingie; winner gets, um, absolutely nothing. Hey, I'm still broke, what did you really expect?

BTW, I really, really hate waiting. I am by nature an impatient person. Except for when I'm in my zen mode and can't really see the point in hurrying scurrying, but whatever. I'm a girl, it's my prerogative to change my mind on these things. But really, I want this laptop to be here already! Like this morning, hours ago! Why do I have to wait so long?! Gaaaahhhhh!

Anyway, some specs in case anyone is interested. Then you can tell me how crap a deal I got, even though I'm really proud of myself. It's got the integrated wireless card, 512 MB SDRAM, 80 GB hard drive, the processor is something like 1.5 Ghz and it has a CD-RW/DVD-read only drive and 14.1" widescreen. Or something like that. It comes with XP Professional and a 1 year warranty. For $600 and free delivery, I think it's a pretty damn good deal and it should last me quite a while.

Man, who would ever think $600 qualified as bargain shopping? Only in my world.

Aliens think I'm special

Okay, as mentioned earlier, because my regular timefiller is on the fritz today (it's up now, but incredibly slow), you get a megadose of Y! Oooooh, you lucky things. You just don't know how truly blessed you are! Let me tell you one reason that I know I'm extra special.

Aliens took my right ovary for my eggs so they could start a master race from my DNA. Ah, I hear you sniggering unbelievingly, but it's true!

See, I have a condition known as PCOS, or polycystic ovarian syndrome. Basically, this means, among other things, that I often have multiple cysts on my ovaries. Sometimes these can become quite large and cause great pain, not to mention that if they are of a certain type and rupture, one could bleed to death, although that is very extreme. Anyway, a few years ago, I ended up in the emergency room for the 2nd time in 3 months with pain on my right side, bent over, moaning and shaking in pain. Needless to say, this is not a good thing. After I was mercifully given that gift from the gods known as intravenous narcotic painkiller (demerol, in this case), a sonogram indicated a large cyst on my right ovary that my doctor (after a second sonogram confirmed) determined needed to be removed. Unfortunately, at the time I was in the middle of planning my move from San Diego back to the DC area and had to put the surgery off until my health insurance here kicked in. Of course, then I had to go through all the hoops all over again, find another doctor, get a NEW sonogram (3rd in 3 months now) AND an MRI (and I'm claustrophobic), and then schedule a surgery date.

So I finally get into surgery, they slice me open, take out my girlie innards and look 'em over and find something entirely different. Not only don't I have a cyst on my right ovary but, wait for this . . . I HAVE NO RIGHT OVARY! The doc asked me after the surgery if I'd ever had surgery before, which was silly because he would have seen any scarring, and told me that it looked as if it had been surgically removed!

Now this is really strange for numerous reasons. First, as far back as 1992, when I went to the emergency room for the first time with an ovarian cyst (confirmed the next day by internal sonogram at the doc's office), there has been documentation of an ovary on my right side. Second, whenever I'm ovulating, I only ever feel the twinge on my right hand side. Third, 4 sonograms (3 external and 1 internal) in 3 months AND an MRI provide evidence that there was a right ovary there with a cyst on it.

Seriously, peeps, I couldn't make this shit up, I don't have the creativity for it.

So that's how I know I'm special. Aliens came down and took my right ovary sometime between late April and the end of June 2003. I think when they finally find extraterrestrial life, it will look suspiciously similar to me. I should probably just apologize to the extraterrestrials now.

Of Roses and Nigerian Pygmy Goats

Happy Valentine's Day, for those who celebrate such nonsense. Personally, I couldn't care less and view it as just another day, but it certainly has been a good excuse to eat brownies for breakfast, and to chow down on a heart-shaped doughnut and some homemade chocolate candy here at work. The head honcho got lovely pink roses for each of us, so that was nice.

You know, if this was really meant to be a serious holiday, it would be either on the day of or the day after people get paid. Like on the 15th, 16th, or last day or first day of the month. See, that's how you know it's a bogus holiday. Besides, we don't even get the day off work. Hrmpf.

And to the person who found their way here searching for how to buy Nigerian pygmy goats in southern California, I'm really sorry, but I can't help you. I hope you enjoyed your diversion here, and I sincerely hope those goats are meant for non-carnal purposes.

Strangely, I seem unable to access the travel bulletin board that I normally use to pass the time during the day, so it may end up being a day of mental diarrhea here. Meanwhile, I'm going to keep eating hearts as every good Scorpio should do.

Uomini della neve

And so it snowed. About a foot, or so the reports say. These snowmen were on my block and I just thought they were cute. I especially like the sombrero on the Latino snowman, and the other one looks like a grumpy old man.


However, I did not let the snow get in the way of my shopping excursions because, well, what kind of shopper would I be if I did that?! The local weathermen kept saying that it wasn't supposed to start snowing until Saturday afternoon, so I figured I could get out and about and do my stuff before then. I almost couldn't believe it when I turned out to be right!

The highlight of my shopping excursion was looking at laptop computers, without a doubt. Honestly, I haven't seen a brand new laptop in so long . . . and I came to the conclusion that it really doesn't matter what I get, I'm going to love it because they are all so far ahead of what I've had before. Seriously. I bought my first laptop back in 1995, a Toshiba. That was my one and only brand-new, out of the box, never touched by anybody but me computer. And even it wasn't the latest and greatest - I think they had just come out with the original Pentium processors, so I got a 486 because they were soon going to be obsolete anyway. That laptop worked fine for me until around 2000 or 2001, I think, when I started using the internet more. At that point, my best friend K upgraded to a new laptop for her work and gave me her old one free, and it was nicer than my old one by far. I was thrilled! That one worked fine and dandy until I left a glass of wine next to it one night and Buca knocked it over onto the keyboard. RIP, Laptop #2. So then I was without one and very miserable for about 8 months, until I went out with $200 and got Millie, a very serviceable Pentium III IBM Thinkpad 610E. And that brings us up to date.

So with the idea now that anything brand new, out of the box, never been touched by anybody but me is going to be better than what I've had before, I went back to the 3 most reliable, cheapest manufacturers' websites and priced out their base models without most of the stuff I had wanted added on, and had gotten the price down to $500 after rebates. Then out of curiosity, I searched a few store websites, and what did I find? A pricier model, with lots more memory, longer battery life, and better operating system for only $100 more on a special sale, with free shipping. So my choice is made. Come Wednesday, my saved cart is being brought back up, the submit button shall be hit, and in 3-5 business days, a man in brown will deliver my new baby here at work. Then I'll have to think up a new name.

Anyway, I actually got quite a bit accomplished at home this weekend. A certain reader will be shocked, no doubt, when they read that all of my clothes are now unpacked from the move (yes, from 2+ months ago, back around Thanksgiving). Not only unpacked, but washed, folded/hung and put away. I even ironed the wrinkly stuff. It's so satisfying to see everything hanging in its place and to open drawers and riffling through perfectly folded stacks of clothing. Of course, this now means re-organizing and shifting things around until I have reached the optimum logical placement of everything. Re-organization on this scale could take at least another month. And that's not counting organizing the shoes . . .

Aside: somebody here in the office is using Skype. The first time I heard the ring, I was uncertain - I thought maybe they had just seen an ad on a website or something. Nope, I just heard it again. Somebody is Skype-ing. I wish it was me.

Where was I? I forget.

I had the whole apartment to myself for the entire weekend. And I loved it. I waltzed around naked after showering instead of hiding in a robe or trying to make a towel cover the large marine-mammal like body I seem to be inhabiting these days. I peed with the door open. I left dishes in the sink until last night. I slept with my door open. I hogged the washer and dryer all weekend. Every time I opened the door to the freezer or fridge, or looked in a cupboard, I knew exactly what food would be in there, and nothing was missing that I hadn't eaten. Meanwhile, the Cuz has a bunch of job interviews out home this week and, god willing, will get a job there which means the end of our era. Yeah, she'll be back sometimes for weekends, but not as a paying roommate anymore. And as much as I love living alone, and that has now been reaffirmed, I'll miss her. But I want my own space again.

BTW, I'm not very busy at new job right now, so I have lots of time to think. Which will probably mean more posting than usual. Decide for yourself if that's good or bad, because I honestly don't know myself.

Pompous Condescending Fucking Assholes and assorted random shit

You know, this is just one of those days when the world's Pompous Condescending Fucking Assholes just seem to be out in full force. I don't know what it is, what alien signals get sent, but they just are. Makes me want to bash their heads in or put a little non-fatal poison in their happy hour drinks to give them the exploding shits or something. At least backhand them across the face for a little satisfaction. Them and their unsolicited fucking advice, thinking they are better than everyone else, all us peons. Why can't they just say Congratulations or Good for you once in a while, you know? Fucking pricks. /rant

So I got thrown out of a government office for loitering today, all in the name of doing my job. I actually thought it was pretty funny. They were almost nice about it, too. Ah, well, such is life.

It's supposed to snow here tomorrow. Normally I would be really excited, but for once it's extremely inconvenient for me. See, I have things planned this weekend. I have shopping to do at the grocery store, drugstore, and Sephora. I want to head up to the thrift store and spend a little more time going through the tops there. I want to go over to an electronics store and check out the different monitors on laptops. And that's just the stuff for tomorrow. Sunday I'm supposed to be going up to Baltimore for drinks with some internet freaks. That might still be on, but what about all my shopping? *wail* So very inconvenient. I suppose the buses will still be running. Grrrr.

I did something today that most people do without even giving it a second thought. I opened a new checking account and a new savings account. These are the first bank accounts I've had in, oh, about 8 years. I couldn't even get approved for a fucking bank account. That should give you some idea of just how fucked my financial situation and credit record has been. Well, through the modern miracle of the internet and bulletin boards, I found an institution that would gladly take my money. In 15 minutes, I was the proud owner of the aforementioned accounts. Such a small thing, but so big to me. It's another sign of the ongoing recovery of my life.

And today was my last weekly payday from the temp gig. Even though I only worked 2 days over there, I got a few dollars more than I expected which was very nice. I had already budgeted for most of it, HOWEVER, you know that included something nice for me, right? So I went out and got a lovely pair of black t-strap heels that I'd been eyeing at 9 West. Originally $79, on sale for $39.99 PLUS another 20% off! I wish they had a pic still up on their website, but it's not. They are just that cute!

I think I'm going to have to have an unpleasant talk with our landlord. He apparently let himself in a few mornings ago. As far as I know this is illegal. As a tenant, we have possession of the premises and are entitled to quiet enjoyment of the same. He is not allowed to enter without notice except in cases of dire impending emergency. Checking my bedroom ceiling for where I told him it leaked last Saturday for a few minutes is NOT a dire impending emergency. And I just don't like that he feels like he can just let himself in whenever he likes. It gives me the creeps. It's bad enough that he lives just next door. Off to research DC landlord/tenant law and go home . . .

What if I was a GUY?

Sometimes you have to wonder "what if". "What if" I grew up in a different time, or a different place? "What if" I hadn't been such a fuck up for all those years? "What if" I had known what I wanted to do 10 years ago?

The real truth is that most of us will never know the answers to those "what if's".

But I know someone who does, and is about to find out yet again.

The Cuz has been getting no joy in her quest for gainful, "normal" employment. Normal meaning not in a gay bar known to be a drug haven with shady owners and questionable employment practices. For those of you out there who don't know, The Cuz is my cousin and roommate. The Cuz also happens to be transgender, living as a woman. No, this does not mean she's had or will have a sex change. This means "chick with a dick", as she puts it. Well, it's pretty obvious that our society hasn't exactly progressed to true equality and tolerance yet given that she's perfectly qualified for and has actually done "normal" jobs previously, gets lots of interviews, and then . . . NOTHING. We've pretty much come to the conclusion that this is due to discrimination, but of course there's no way of proving it.

So after months on end of the search (and I know this must be killing her), she comes out with, "I think I'll try it as a guy." I guess she was thinking this before, but then her dad offered for her to live out where we're from with him for a while for free, and have free use of a reliable car, as long as she had a job out there, and had it as a guy. (He did, however, stipulate that she could, of course, be A on the weekends or for going out whenever, which is a HUGE step on his part considering how homophobic he always has been, which among other clues also leads us to think that he's homosexual, too, but that's a whole other issue . . .) And so tonight she's heading out home for a few days to send out resumes and go to some interviews as G instead of A.

All of which leads me back to "what if's".

What if I was a guy? I wonder what I'd be doing now. I wonder if my personality would be different, and in what ways. I wonder how people would treat me differently.

And of course, I used to think, after years of living by myself, "what if I had to have a roommate again?" I really thought I'd rather die than have to share living space again. But the truth is that I've really enjoyed living with The Cuz. It's not been perfect by any means, we've annoyed each other to no end and been angry with each other and stomped out in huffs and slammed a door or two . . . but I haven't regretted it for one minute and I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat. We got a rare opportunity to know each other better than anyone else, in our worst times when we were stripped bare, down to the core and completely vulnerable. And we still like to just hang out. There's not many people who can go through all that and come out the other side like we have.

So now I find myself wondering, "what if she really leaves?" Part of me is soooooo ready to live alone again, for all the space to be mine, to be able to make coffee naked, to leave the dishes in the sink for an extra day, not to have to share bathroom space and a home telephone line. But there's the other part that I never knew was there that will be sad, too, for a period in our lives that will be over.

I guess the reality is that that period is already over. I feel it. I'm moving forward with my life now that I've got it back on track, and she's making progress in getting hers back on track, too.

My mind still spins with all the "what if's", though. I don't want any more than are necessary. So that's been one of the good things out of all of this shit that's happened the last few years. If the "what if" is something that I have any control over, I'm going to find out.

And if you feel inspired, feel free to leave your "what if's" down in the comments thingie.

Money really is the root of all evil

I have a dilemma. It is a dilemma that I would have killed for only a month ago. But it leaves me in a state of paralysis now.

Here it is.

Millie the not-so-thoroughly-modern really appears to be down for the count, pending a professional savior. I've done everything I know how, and even solicited some help and ideas from those more knowledgeable than me (but still not quite professional in this area), all to no avail. So for the meantime, Millie is pasturing and I'm on the hunt for a new laptop (name to be determined).

I have two choices: I can treat myself and get a new one, custom-built to my specifications, complete with a very fashionable laptop tote bag and free printer, or I can get a cheaper used one, still perfectly good for a while, for a few hundred less.

But wait. That's not even the dilemma.

The real problem is that I also want to buy plane tickets for my forthcoming vacation in the UK. (Yes, you read that right, VACATION!)

Now. I could get a cheaper, used laptop AND get my plane tix with my first humongo paycheck from the new job. OR I could do what I've been absolutely dying to do and order that custom lappie and get the plane tix next month. But the problem is, the fares (which are already not that great, but are doable) could go way, way up by then, making the trip impossible.

GAAAHHHHHH. See, money really is the root of all evil. If I didn't have the wherewithal to do all of these things, I'd be happily working along, just paying my rent and bills and getting a really cheap laptop.

A few updates: Weight loss not going well. I've started over again. Kind of. But impending vacation really makes this more of a priority now. Non-smoking is going VERY well. Had a few cigs a few weeks ago when out with a friend, and that's it. I don't even really think about them anymore. Booze, same as cigs. I even turned down free booze the last few days from the landlord's leftovers from Super Bowl. Skin, much better now that Proactiv is vanquished from my medicine cabinet.

And I may be living alone again very soon. More on that another time.

Weirdness

Weird. Clothes feel really weird when your legs and hoo-ha are newly devoid of hair.

That's all for today.

Well.

I mean . . .

Isn't that enough?!

The View from This Side

Is looking pretty damned good, I must say.

As I settle into this new workplace, I find a new work Me. Or rather, perhaps I'm re-finding the lost Work Me, the one who was the go-getter, the best, the untiring, the unflappable, the irrepressible, the insatiable . . . And I like it. I more than like it, I love it. Again, I'm struck by how much of myself I've thought was lost these past few years for various reasons, and it's really comforting to know that maybe other bits that I've been missing aren't really lost but are just submerged, waiting for the right time/place/circumstance to assert themselves again. Sheesh, I sound like some psycho with a multiple personality disorder or something. No, you don't! See?

Anyway, everyone here seems quite nice, and there are some really strong personalities here. I can already tell some people have to be handled in certain ways, and that's fine. I don't have all that much to do as yet; they're trying to let me settle in first and do some basic background reading. Which, of course, means some internet time for me to do things like, oh, blog.

In other news, and I'm sure TessaJ and Julia will have something to say about this, but I am soooo not loving the new Luella Bartley line at Target. I expected more. On the other hand, I still love most of the Isaac Mizrahi stuff. Man, I never thought I'd ever really like stuff from Tarzhay for anything more than lazing around the house, but Isaac's line is nicely cut and affordable and most of the fabrics are far nicer than you'd expect. There, that's my fashion report for the year.

I've also looked and looked and looked at notebook pc's until my head spun and I had to stop. Then I went back and looked some more. I think I've got the specs that I want narrrowed down and the price range is pretty much where I want it. The only question is whether to order straight from a manufacturer and wait for delivery, which could be a few weeks, or go to a computer store and chance that they have what I want there. I suppose it couldn't hurt to mosey on by a CompUSA or similar this weekend, just to look . . . but I seriously have withdrawals at not having any internet at home. So much so that I spent $50 just to get a replacement operating system for Millie on the off chance that perhaps she can work at least for internet purposes. Ah, well, it's only $50.

Funny, $50 would have been my grocery budget for 2 weeks a few months ago. The times, they are a'changin' and I like the view from this side. I think I'll stay here on it for a while.