Great Incidents of the Weekend, 2005

All in all a quiet weekend, except for a few minor "incidents".
So I stayed over my aunt and uncle's house while they were away. Playing house, if you will. Rob of course stayed over with me. So I figure it's Saturday night, I brought a bottle of wine, yada yada yada. So Rob is starting to fall asleep. I start flipping channels, and come across a risque late night movie. So I cough loudly to wake him up. He wakes up, focuses on what's on the TV, and says those words every girlfriend is waiting for. "WOW my girlfriend likes PORN! I am the luckiest man in the world!" Ya not so much. What he actually said was " you know that feeling you have when you're really tired and your head feels heavy?" Puts his head back and promptly begins snoring. DADA da da da great no sex incident of 2005.
Next day he goes off to work, I stay at the house, of course the one day it's overcast is the one day I have off... but no problem I go swimming anyway. Actually a relaxing day for me. So I decide to cook a nice dinner that I know he will love. Steak tips on the grill, baby carrots, and sugar snap peas. I marinate the tips, prepare the carrots with ginger, cinnamon and a little maple sugar to glaze them, and put the sugar snap peas in a small other pan with a little water. Not enought water, apparently, and I end up burning them to charcoal on one side. Therefore the great sugar snap pea incident of 2005. I try to cover the lack of peas with fresh tomatoes and avocado, which I forget he does not like. Oh well. I tried.
So we come back here after eating to find a fire truck outside. A fireman tells me that there is a "water problem" in the building on the bottom floor. We are loaded down with packages, laundry, and such... and I am thinking of what the hell is going on in my old building. As we enter my apartment, Rob's pants fall to his ankles, for no reason at all. He is laughing hysterically walking through my dark apartment with his pants around his ankles. Mind you I have three bags in my hand, the mail, a duffel bag, and he is sidestepping - in the dark. The great no belt incident of 2005. Turns out my new downstairs neighbor, Sarah, was putting a nail in the wall to hang a picture and hit a water pipe. They did, thankfully manage to fix is rather quickly, so crisis averted, we have water.
Tomorrow is August 1 - 26 days until we go and see George Carlin. Rob is so excited. So am I, but more to go away to the Sea Spiral in Hampton Beach, where I am told we have a room where you have views of the ocean from the king size bed. Oh, and there's a Jacuzzi. Rob informs me that he will have to "save up" his errr ummm essence... in other words no sex until the weekend away in Hampton Beach. Ya right, that's going to happen. Ya I'm going to wait a month. NOT! Ya not so much.

Open Letter to my Mentor

First of all, you have the patience of a saint. I do not know how you kept your cool and did not slap me upside the head repeatedly. Secondly, for all those times I asked the same questions, I now understand. Third, for all the times I pushed back and stated my own case, I am deeply and whole heartedly sorry. Fourth, how did you always seem to know just what I was thinking? (And how do you bottle and sell that?) Fifth, yes I need one. A fifth of PATRONE! <
Sixth, your knowledge astounds me. Seventh, thank you for believing in me. Eighth Didn't you get tired of hearing your name called out? (how do you overcome that?) Ninth, give me the name of your ophthamologist. My eyes are spinning. And number ten THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU.
My second full day of mentoring the new hires has prompted me to write this. This new class is awesome, they ask great questions, and they remind me of how to fulfill my own day and manage my plate. I am very proud of all of them. I feel very important, and useful to the company. Not that I did not before, but now - it's just tangible. It's a great feeling of both exhaustion and euphoria all at the same time.
I have miles to go before I sleep and promises to keep.
God Bless my mentor.

another weekend behind me

Well it's Monday evening. My weekend is officially over. But what a fun weekend it was. After working Saturday, Rob picked me up and off we went to Sharrie's for an impromptu party with Special K, BBOT, and Carson also in attendance. Fun and frivolity were definitely the order of the day... and we did not disappoint. Much comic relief came from Sharrie's older daughter, Trinity, who is 4. What a riot. When asked where she thought the plane flying overhead was going, she said "to the airport". Well of course. All planes go to the airport. She is like an 80 year old woman. Her favorite line, is, of course, "I wish a I had..." followed by whatever it is she wants, instead of just asking for it. For example - as we're all drinking fabulous libations, she sighs deeply and says to me, "I wish I had a special drink." Too funny. BBOT (Otherwise known as Sarah) went on to ask Trinity where she thought the plane might be coming from, like for example Disneyland. Her retort was "I don't know I've got BOOZE here." Sarah nearly fell out of the hammock laughing.
I was trying to teach Trin the old game of Miss Mary Mack, or Oh Jolly Playmate" where you clap your hands and then the person across from you. She thought this game was great fun, but couldn't quite master slapping opposite hands. So she invented her own game, called of course, "Ace High Moose" where she made up a song as we clapped and slapped hands "Ace High Moose/is lots of fun/when you say moose/and I can clap/and then we play/Ace High Moose." Say it a couple of times, it's like crack.
The evening progressed on (with random Ace High Moose moments) until the subject turned, of course, to sex. In Rob's words..."OK so now I know WAY more about your co workers than I ever thought I would." I second that emotion. For privacy reasons, and because most of them read this blog, I will not disclose who prefers which shaving preference, who would sleep with Angelina Jolie, who named an upper manager "Golum", and who had "just one headlight turned on and the other one off". The last observation came from Rob, at 1AM, and was not directed towards me, the girlfriend. I did learn that Rob cannot say the word "fuselage" when intoxicated.
Rob and I stayed over, which was great fun, especially when both Shar's dogs slept on top of me (on the FIRM end of the couch) underneath a Hello Kitty comforter. When I woke up at some ungodly hour, and turned, stretching my arm in back of me (I was butt side facing out to accommodate the pooches), I was handed a bottle, by the 2 year old, Sheridyn, who had been standing there for God knows how long awaiting movement from an adult. No such luck with Rob who was stretched out snoring happily away. So I got the chance to "play mommy" for a little while which was actually quite fun for me. I must confess that I am indebted to Sharrie for entrusting her children to me for that brief time... it felt good, even with a pounding headache. Which reminds me I owe her some Tylenol. :) Trinity made another great comment, when I told her that I needed the Tylenol, she looked at me completely straight faced and asked if it was "because of the booze." Some time in the sun playing with sprinklers followed that. Very fun.
After a treat of donuts, and looking at wedding photos, we left and went to Rob's for a brief time, got changed, and headed out to Nahant Beach and recharged ourselves. Then it was off to the nursing home, for my grandfather's birthday. After a brief visit, and Pepperridge Farm cake, we went to Cindys to get pool directions (they are leaving to CA for 2 weeks) andthen back here, where we had violation Chinese food. I say violation because we didn't get anything remotely resembling good for you food.
Today I did nothing, except a little cleaning, vacuuming, and grocery shopping. Such bliss to have nothing on the agenda, and no one to tend to, answer to, or anything. I watched a couple of movies, made a bite to eat, and just chilled. Now back to the grind. I wonder if anyone will play Ace High Moose with me tomorrow. :)

tending

so I get a phone call, just as I am logging in at work to begin my day. It's the boyfriend. Who tells me that "your boyfriend is a klutz". Uh-oh, I think to myself. What fresh hell is this? "Well Java (the family's 9 pound Chihuahua) left a toy on the stairs which I didn't see and I ended up smashing my arm against the wall pretty hard. " I of course ask if he is OK, which is my job. I ask if he's gone to have it checked. Of course he hasn't Then a big sigh "So I am here at work moving tires one by one, (he's a tire salesman for NTB which he doesn't really like) and you're going to have to tend to a sick boyfriend tonight. " Joy and Rapture. I ask if there's someone there who can help him move tires. "Oh no, I wouldn't ask that of any of the guys here." Of course not.

I feel weird today. I don't know what it is. Like there's a storm coming. I feel all out of sorts, really tired, though I slept well. You know when you look to the horizon and see dark gray storm clouds gathering ? And you think, "looks like it's going to rain." Now I must confess that I love thunderstorms. I love the awesome power of Mother Nature flexing her muscles and reminding us that we are but mere specks compared to her. The feeling when the dark black clouds stack up and roll over one another and the wind picks up is an amazing thing. But this is a gut feeling. One that my emotions are ruling the clouds in my mind. Normally said clouds are fluffy cummulus clouds. This feels different. I don't have these feelings that often, and for this I am grateful. I tend to have a sunny disposition most of the time, or at least I try to. Being blessed with an Irish mother with a full head of red hair is most often a good thing, but damned if I don't also have her temper. Mixed with my dad, who is much more even keel in terms of temperament.
Something is coming. I can feel it. Jesus, I sound like a sidewalk psychic. However, unlike the Psychic Friends Hotline, I don't know if it's work, home, relationship, or my family. I do know that I have been burning the candle at both ends of late, and maybe it's nothing more than stress playing a fun game of catch up with me. Just remember if something big happens, and you're reading this blog that you heard it here first.

charlie's chocolates

Went and saw Charlie and the Chocolate Factory last night. Take my advice - Do.Not.Go. What a wretched movie. Johnny Depp was full on weird - trying too hard to be Jim Carrey as Fire Marshall Bill. Creepy Oompa Loompas, who did not sing their songs and were all computer generated, there was just one guy who was miniaturized. The children were all just odd. Helena Bonham Carter as the mother - weird as hell. Bad movie. There were like 5 chuckle moments in the whole thing. Give me the original with Gene Wilder any day. Very disturbing for children, in my opinion. Thumbs WAY down. Even Rob agreed, and he likes pretty much any movie, even silly ones. The only way that movie might be tolerable is if you were under the effects of some mind altering agent. Not that I would EVER know what that was like. :)

Nutcracker

So it's wicked hot today. (Can't tell I'm from Boston, can you?) :) I get off at Downtown Crossing, my normal routine. I see all these folks in red t-shirts, and a stage step up. Some protest or some such nonsense, I think, and I start to walk through the crowd. A woman stops me and hands me a mini candy cane with a promo flier, saying tickets go on sale for the Nutcracker today. I look again and there are all the characters from the show, Mouse King, Clara, the Nutcracker, ballerinas, all right there. So I run over with my digital cam and snap a couple of pics. A local DJ from Magic 106.7 comes out and says they are going to have some trivia and give away some cool prizes. What the heck, I think. They ask simple stuff to start - what is the little girl's name, what does the Nutcracker turn into, what is the little brother's name... bla bla bla. Then they ask who greets the little girl on her arrival into the Land of Sweets? "Sugar Plum Fairy!" I yell. Bingo! Two tickets to the Nutcracker. Opening Night. Row G. I'm going to see the Nutcracker la-la-la la-la Way to start my day. :)

teenage angst

So I have a cousin Jessica, whom I adore. Given the difference in our ages, she's more like a niece, but that's just fine. She's 15. She's always been a great kid, and I see so much of myself in her. We've always gotten along well. So she's been having what she considers to be high drama with her boyfriend Steve, whom I think is very sweet. They are on again off again at the drop of a hat. Which is quite typical. Well he's gone off to Florida (oh, did I mention he's from a wealthy background?) and she's not sitting around pining for him. So he's pissed. Her mom, my aunt, has had her going through therapy for her attitude and a bunch of other stuff. Children (and young adults) can be so cruel. Because she's with Steve, her friends are jealous and spreading lies about her. Which is really unfair, but part of growing up. So she's been on her own since school go out. I mean she has a couple of acquaintances, but her deep down long time friends are not around. So I feel bad, and suggest that she and I will have a day that's just us. No guys, no parents, just us. She somewhat reluctantly agrees. Kind of a "well I suppose so, I've got nothing else better to do" type attitude. So I sleep over last night, after an impromptu BBQ with her parents and my parents and Rob. She comes back from the movies last night and immediately is in her room. With 3 of these new friends. Two of whom are boys. In her room. With the door shut. No big deal. I mean, my parents probably would not have permitted it, but who am I to say. I suggest we go into town on the T, maybe go on a harbor cruise, or a whale watch, and go shopping. I get the eye roll. Big sigh. "what would we do?" "how long is a whale watch?" I perserve. It will be fun. We'll go where the wind takes us. So she gets out of bed and says she's getting ready, yet I find her on the computer IM-ing a bunch of people. (I've had to have some talks with her about her choice of screen names and IM buddies, but that's a whle other story.) So I say "let's go" and off we go. So we head into Boston to this store that I thought she would love, it's a jewelry store where they have all sort of twinkly sparkly things : rings, toe rings, bracelets, necklaces, you name it. She does seem to enjoy it and we are having a good time. So I say that we had better get a move on if we are going to hit the whale watch. Eye rolls and big sighs. "I don't think I want to. " OK, I think to myself. "how's about a harbor cruise?" "Well I don't want to go on a thing where I have to learn stuff. It sounds kinda boring." Now let me point out that it's like 85 degrees with 98% humidity. Being out on a boat, even for a short time sounds cooling and refreshing to me. Not so much to her. So I ask what SHE wants to do. Go shopping. Go on a duck tour. I. Get. Nothing. No "that's sounds OK".... no crumb or morsel of interest. In desperation I ask if she wants to go to a movie where it's cool. "All the movies that are out are stupid." OK then," I reply. "Do you just want to go home and go swimming?" Her comeback is classic. "I don't care, whatever." So I decide we are going on a Duck Tour. I could have gotten really mad, but I do remember being that age. Where hanging out with anyone more than 4 years older than you is just the worst. I do catch her laughing a couple of times, but when I acknowledge it, she clams up. I try to open some communication "Are you excited about going to California?" "not really." "what books are you reading for the summer" "haven't started it." Oh - let me point out - she's going to CA for 2 weeks with her parents, to visit our family. One is in Lake Forest, with a huge pool and she always has the run of the place, One has a place in CA as well as Lake Havascu, where she gets to jet ski, and hang out with my cousin's incredibly good looking husband, who treats Jess like a queen, and one lives in a million dollar condo in Costa Mesa and is loaded and spends money on her like it's going out of style and she's "not really" interested in going??? Excuse me???
So all in all it wasn't quite the day I had in mind. Ah the angst of youth. I will, however, say this: I would never go back there, not in a million years.

foot dexterity, flashing, and fatigue

Well it is Saturday afternoon - day after Ozzfest. A really great show, and a great time had by all. (Side note We went and visited Grammy - she was sitting up and fully recognized us, was pleasant and cheerful...WTF? Everyone has good and bad days I suppose! ) Onto Ozzfest from there. Wow, was it hot. I am so glad the cooler contained a high percentage of beverages, thanks to me :) Great shows, great performances, Rob Zombie was awesome. Only thing I hate is when tall guys shove their way in front of me only to block me after I've "staked my claim". Forget keeping your personal space, there's no such thing in a mosh pit. Saw a girl get full on kicked in the head. Ouch. So we go to our seats, which are in the section right next to the sound board. This girl comes to the aisle in front of us, her b/f is carrying a full tray of stuff drinks, chicken fingers, and such and I think wow, she must be cold, she has her arms pulled inside her shirt and she's wearing long sleeves. Ya not so much. Girl had No. Frigging. Arms. I thought wow, it must be somewhat challenging to be here, but I'm trying not to gawk at her. In my head, I'm thinking bathroom must be a challenge, and Rob leans over and whispers in my ear "Jesus Christ I wonder how she wipes her ass. " Freaky, huh? Now this is cool. She crosses her legs, and with her toes picks up a chicken finger, dips it into honey mustard, and brings it to her mouth. Takes a bite, dips again, and repeats like 4 times. Rob and I are dumbfounded. Forget the fact that there is heavy metal all around us, girls flashing their boobs, music assaulting our eardrums, it's hotter than hell, there are lots of scary ass people.... we are both transfixed on this girl eating fucking chicken fingers with her toes.
Now the flashing. So I am near the pit at Rob Zombie and this girl says to one of the roadies, "So can I get over this wall so I can go up front?" His simple answer is "no." "Will this help?" and she lifts up her shirt in front of all these people. Dude looks her straight in the eye, not the boobs, and says "Not so much." Fucking great. :)
So the rest of the show rocked, it was a great time... the traffic leaving the arena always sucks and as a result we did not get home until 200 AM. But my friend Gene stated what might be one of the best quotes ever (while sitting in the backseat) ... "So I am going to go home, take a shower, get nude, set up my Clint Eastwood poster cut-out and rub one out." Rob nearly drove off the road laughing. What makes this REALLY funny is that Gene is not gay.
And Rob had to work at 7:00 AM. Poor guy. I do not have the heart to tell him that after he left, I fell back asleep and slept until 11:30 AM.
So here I am at work. I so wish I had taken this day off as well as yesterday. sigh. "i wish I had a vacation." :) Actually this has not been a bad day. Sharrie's still home sick, but I've got Special K, which makes it all worthwhile. :)

doghouse, dying, and the Great OJ Incident of 2005

Well it has been a marvelous day. I will begin with the Great OJ Incident of 2005. So Rob stayed over. Had a relatively nice morning. Until 10, when he said that he had to get a move on or he would be late for work. But we needed to get breakfast. So over to Bickfords we went. He was talking about French Toast, which got me thinking about French Toast. So I ordered French Toast. He got a Meat Lover's Omlette (WTF?) and.... an orange juice. Complete with condensation on his glass. That's right you guessed it. DADA da da da SLIP! Crash! And a small wave of OJ came right at me. Rob nearly dove under the table in embarassment. The waiter (who is creepy due in large part to the huge goiter on his neck) started ineffectively wiping up the spill with a damp cloth, causing ripples from the large puddle to wave towards my side of the table. Spilling all over me, my shirt, my pants, my new bag, into the bag, and on the seat. For some reason, this wave of fury and anger swept over me. I stormed back to the house (I love right next door to Bickfords) and changed. I went back, the food had arrived and Rob was already eating. Had not considered to wait for me. (Doghouse entry #1) The contrite look, the I'm sorry - meant nada to me at that time. "What's your problem? I said I was sorry." (Doghouse #2) My throat closed up. I mean I was seething and had no idea why I felt so vehemently. "You usually laugh these things off" was his comment. (#3) I asked for a to go container. Then I said (testing the waters) "You're going to be late for work if you drive me, so I will take the T." His reply was "OK". (A big ol' #4) So off he goes, playing ICP amd up to make a U-ie - in the direction I am walking. His normal routine. and I start off down the street. By this point I am just sobbing with frustration, anger, and god knows what else. He pulls over. "What is it? What have I done? Is it a hormonal thing?" (#5 as I don't have a hormonal cycle, I don't have my "monthly" which he knows. ) I can barely talk I am crying so hard at this point. He asks me to get in the car, which I do. "There's my bus", I say. "Well let me at least get ahead of it and drop you at the next bus stop." (#6) So out of the car I go, the bus pulls up and he goes off.
I get into Boston and pick up a few items for tomorrow's concert as I am all of a sudden the official caterer. Of course I am. I am going with 6 guys. All clueless about advance preparations. Off to work I go, to find Sharrie just miserably sick. ("How do you feel?" "Like death", is the reply.) Poor Sharrie is looking rather like the walking dead but assures me she is off to the doctor shortly. She listens, as she always does, to my tale of woe regarding the above, trying all the while not to laugh in commiseration, as it so closely mirrors her life. I resolve some outstanding requests that I have, and then out come the newbies to the floor, all full of eager anticipation. What I say and do today will reflect everything about what they will be doing. I must be sunshine and light. I must be upbeat. When all I want to do is be like Greta Garbo...i.e. "I vant to be alone." But I perservere and charm and delight the newbies. "I want to sit next to her!" "Isn't she the coolest?" These admirations lift me up.
Then, the phone rings. I notice that it is my mother's cell phone. I ask the girls not to listen in and pick up the phone. She tells me that my grammy is not doing well at all. Trouble breathing, low heart rate, non recognition of anyone, bad skin tone... my mother is frightened. My uncle, the stoic show no emotion man, is contemplating not going to Las Vegas she looks so rough. Goddamn it all. I know, and accept, that my grandmother wants to die, to be with her beloved husband. My grandfather, EJ. I know, in my heart, she is going to a better place. But there is still that small selfish voice in my head that does not want her to leave me. Not before she sees me, her eldest grandaughter, married. Please, just a little while longer. Now that is not a reason in the slightest to get married. Nor would I ever act upon it, or vocalize it to Rob. It is selfish of me to think it, but yet the thought escapes me. I'm not ready for her to leave me, but if that is her will, and God's wish, I will let her go. I have no choice, do I?
Off to Ozzfest in the morning, but Rob is taking me to go and visit her. I dread that this may be a saying goodbye, but at least I will have no regrets, OK few regrets.

Tuesday

Well another weekend closer to Ozzfest. Not a bad weekend, all things considered. Traded shifts with one of my co-workers to attend Ozzfest, so I worked Sunday but had Monday off. Still managed to hit my friends impromptu BBQ - impromptu as I brought the burgers and dogs. And chips. And cupcakes. :) Rob decided to play hooky Monday so we hung out at my friends house and went swimming which was fun. Went to the movies after and saw War of the Worlds which was pretty good. So. Last night. We get home and I, trying to play fun, say "OK I'm ready for you to ravish me." He looks at me and says "you really are impossible." Rolls over and starts to snore almost instantly. I just don't get it. Any other man would be psyched to have a girlfriend who has "a healthy drive". But no. Not him. So then I was up until like 1:30 AM just seething. And not sleeping. Both of which do absolutely nothing to help combat my high BP. Then this morning la la la nothing wrong in his eyes "good morning I love you bla bla bla" And I'm left like WTF? SO I ask if he feels like coming back to bed. "What for?"
I give up.
Sharrie's having some serious concerns with DSIL, I feel so badly for her. Maybe drunks aren't so much fun when they wake you up at 12:45 AM to give you a mild heart attack when their cry for help goes WAY beyond a cry.
Work is eerily quiet after Friday night's fiasco. No one is saying much of anything, which concerns me a little. It's quiet. Too quiet. Except for a new fruit bat
Lemme esplain. We have this one chick at work, unkindly we have nicknamed her fruit bat - for the simple fact that she has ears that instantly pickup even the vibration of a private conversation. And she's up and out of her chair, prairie dogging over the cubicle walls to involve herself. It appears that being a fruit bat is contagious, as her next cubicle co worker who is just ODD has adopted the habit - to the point of several coworkers being ready to shout "NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!"
Fruit Bats aren't fun.

Friday

Well it's been just a wonderful few days since my last post. Let's see. Rob's uncle commited suicide and the funeral was set for today.
I went to have the coins from Aunt Sally appraised and found that my 2 weeks of hard work and cataloging 20 pounds of old coins yielded a whoppng $208. None of the coins that I thought might be valuable were worth jack shit.
I went to the doctor and was diagnosed with planta fascitis, which is basically tendonitis of the heel from wearing non supportive shoes (like the skip on sneakers that I adore.) No cure. "wear better sneakers and it will be better in 2 weeks." Great news. I also have high blood pressure - ya how's your newsflash hello I am wicked stressed, not sleeping well, all ancients in nursing homes and degenerating rapidly, stressed at work... and now I have to go on fluid pills to combat high BP? Awesome. I also gained back weight, which does not help. Sigh. Back on the diet. Great news. I've also been told that my eggs, are, in fact, still viable and I could effectively have them harvested and have a surrogate mother carry a child for me, but I need to make that decision in a year, as after 40 there are way too many risks. Add that on to the heap of shit I am carrying around and it's no wonder my BP was 165 over 90. So there you go.
Thursday I also heard the horrific news from London of the terrorist bombings. Increased security on the T. Bad feelings all around.
I stayed over Rob's on Thursday to attend the funeral of his uncle today. What a horrible day. I mean no funeral is fun, but this was bad. You see Rob's dad is one of 17 children, 4 of which have died from suicide, and one in an accident. They are very disfunctional and not at all close, which is hard for me to understand given the closeness of my family. The poor widow, Kim, was all by herself, and not one person gave her any support, save, of coure, me.... who does not know her in the slightest. She was kneeling in front of the coffin, sobbing, and not one member of that whole fucking family was showing her any support. My heart was just breaking for this poor woman, who's husband of 14 years was in a casket - with mottled purple skin showing through the orange cadaver makeup, all bloated and horrific looking. She wrote this wonderful eulogy but just could not read it, so Rob's sister did, which was nice. At the graveside, she stood alone, with the undertaker holding an umbrella over her, and again not one person showed her any support at all. I ended up standing behind this poor shaking woman whom I didn't know, just to let her know that someone cared about her. She leaned back against me, crying, and staring at the gravesite. Then she knelt down at the casket and just sobbed after they handed her the tri folded flag while taps played in the distance. Finally someone she knew came up to her and hel her - I have no idea who this person was, maybe a friend, and I stepped back. What was the icing on the cake was that after all that, Rob's aunt said to Rob in front of me that she wished there was a happy reason for us all to get together - like a wedding and Rob said he just was not ready. After all I had done, and said, and acted, like buying groceries for he and his parents so we could have sandwiches afterwards, like holding up this woman, like going to the fucking funeral when I really had to be at work, and he's not ready ? WHAT MORE DO I HAVE TO DO? I mean dear God above I love him and I know he loves me, but COME ON!!!! I just had to get that out.
OK after the funeral, I went to work, where I spent the whole day dealing with this request for a van rental for this really wealthy client of ours at work. Problem? It had to be 15 passengers, in California, and all the rental agencies were sold out or did not have big enough vans. It culminated with the president of the client calling me like a raving lunatic saying unless *I* fixed this problem that *I* had caused, he would not only be speaking to my bosses, but the millions that he invested in the company I work for would be lost because of me. Just add a fucking cherry to the fucking hot fudge fucking sundae that has been my day thus far. Did he think I could manufacture a van out of my ass? I ended up finding a limo service that would take them in a van to go and pick up their precious 7 children from some overprivelged camp and bring them back to go back home. This is one of those days where I really question my salary (or lack thereof) and sanity at working for this company. Most days I adore it, due in large part to the people I work with. But this bullshit? Ya not so much. I am having a drink as I write this, knowing that I have to be back there in like 12 hours, and really dreading it.
Thank you for reading this, whomever you are. I needed to vent. Now, on to the alcohol.

You know it's a good weekend when...

...you're surrounded by family and friends that you adore. For the whole weekend.
...you make fellow guests and hosts laugh so hard they pee their pants... literally.
...there aren't any leftovers of the dishes you bring to BBQ's.
...you can remember ALL the details of both parties. And not cringe.
...you get to see fireworks.
...you get to help set them off. Even if children are now traumatized.
...you get to see them with someone you love.
...you get to see your friend's drunk sister in law's nipples on a dare. (Don't ask)
...you can play Star Wars trivia and not feel like a geek when you get the answers right.
...your uncle throws a sparkler and almost lights the roof of the garage on fire.
...you make your OWN fireworks. Three times. In one weekend. :)
What a great weekend.
Sharrie's was an absolute blast... her husband is just so funny, even when he is telling graphic childbirth stories, complete with sound effects and lurid descriptions and hand gestures. Sharrie and Bobby her husband just adopted two adorable dogs originally from Spain... Polly and Maggie. Too adorable, even if Polly did enact the Great Salami Incident of 2005 by stealing my Herbe de Provence salami and eating 1/4 of it.
Special K and her honey Jonathan (Jay) were there as were Heather and Sarah from work, along with Sharrie's drunk sister in law. And she really did show me her nipples. And Sharrie really did pee her pants. Good times. Drunks are fun.
Monday was spent at Cindy and Joe's where some of their friends came, who are awesome people. Their friends Laura and Peter bought their two sons, Vitaly and Alexi, who are adopted from Russia. Too adorable. While I was in the pool, holding Vitaly, I was instructed "not to let go until I was told otherwise." That implicit trust was amazing to me. Tugged a little at the old heartstrings. Mom and Dad came also and they brought me this beautiful heart shaped plate from Vermont. Dad is thrilled, he has his Jovan shower gel. My uncle Joe did, in fact, throw a sparkler that landed on the roof of the garage. I have the picture to prove it. Somehow it's OK to sing "You're a Grand Old Flag" offkey while waving sparklers in random patterns. Hey, it's Independence Day, why the F not?
Rob and I left and went into Boston to view the fireworks from a bridge on Memorial Drive. Too bad we couldnt get a riverview seat, but still it was an amazing show.
Ten days to Ozzfest. And I go to the doctor on Thursday to see about why my heel is fucking killing me for no obvious reason. Only the left one. WTF!

July 1

A new month upon us. What a wild and crazy week it's been. I am dog tired. Yet I am not sleeping well, and I have no idea why.
I have some new challenges at work, for which I am both apprehensive and excited. I have been asked to mentor the new class. I met them today and they are eager to learn and very nice. It will be good for me, I think. I truly look forward to the discipline it will provide me to do my own job better.
The sunburn is turning tan, for which I am grateful.
We had a great time at the annual summer work party, lots of fun and the booze flowed freely as it always does.
Rob and I are doing quite well. Looking forward to the holiday weekend. We have been invited to a BBQ at Sharrie's on Sunday night to see if her husband Bobby can light the house on fire. ($150 worth of fireworks!) Sharie and family became parents to two new members of their family this week - Polly and Maggie - 2 adorable dogs. Can't wait to meet them.
We also plan to visit both Grammy and Sally this weekend. So we'll do that before the BBQ, so that we will be truly ready to drink. :)
Monday's plans are a BBQ at Cindy and Joe's in the afternoon, followed by fireworks viewing somewhere. I'd love to go to the Esplanade, but it's probably WAY crowded and hot and Rob will be cranky. (OK I will pass on dealing with that!) I still get goosebumps when I hear the 1812 Overture.
14 days until Ozzfest. Rock on. Should be a great time. I'm going with 6 guys. What a hussy I am ! :)
Off to bed.