Merry Christmas and Church last night

Phil and I went to church last night like we always do on Christmas Eve. We go late. We love the candles and the bells at midnight. We went to the First Christian Church of Edmond. We have gone there for every Christmas eve since moving to Edmond. It's a nice church, big and full of light...well until the lights go down...then it's really dark.

I feel bad because we do not know anyone. I said Merry Christmas to the ladies next to us but I wanted to say more (not during the service mind you, but before it got started.) I hate not feeling connected. Even when it was over, I wanted to rejoice "Merry Christmas" to everyone in sight but I consciencely restrained myself. (Yes, I choice I made and didn't have to go that way. Maybe I'm just shy. I can see those who know me, right now rolling their eyes to the ceiling at that thought.)

The service was very nice; a good mixture of gospel and song. One thing that bothered me though is this. One of the talkers...who could be a minister but I'm not sure...talked about an experience he had at Walmart. He apparently came upon a little boy who was wanting to buy a doll. His aunt told him he didn't have enough money for it. She conveniently slipped away down the aisle so this man was alone with the boy in the aisle. He asked the boy about the doll; why did he want to buy it. The boy explained he wanted to get his for sister who was in heaven and his mother was going to be joining her soon. The man asked the little boy to recount his money and while he helped him with this, he slipped in some extra money. The boy, to his delight, determined he did indeed had enough money for the doll and also for a white rose for his mother. Off the boy went with the aunt.

Later, the man discovered a report on the news that a woman and her little daughter were victims of a drunk driver. The little girl died on the scene and the mother was in a coma...her prognosis not very good. Days later he read that she did die. He went to the funeral home and found the mother...a doll and a white rose in the her casket with her.

It's a nice story to know that his minister was able to help this little boy with his grief and for the man to see a true meaning of Christmas. What bothers me is that this didn't happen to the minister...it happened to someone else. It might be petty but to personalize the story, to me, seems wrong. It's almost a form of plagiarism.

Last year he did this too; a story where all the people in line at Walmart handed up money to a single mom, who at the checkout didn't have enough. This too didn't happen in Edmond. I read it on the Internet.

I know what the point of the story is. I just think he should give some kind of disclaimer that this happened somewhere else and that the story had been relied to him from a different source.

Gawd, I hope this doesn't make me a scrooge.

Aw..Religion and Sins

I will be the first to admit, what I know about the Bible and religion you could stick in your bellybutton and still have room for your thumb.

I found a non-fiction book yesterday called...Understanding Your Man in the Mirror...something like that. It was a self help book for wives wishing to understand their husbands better. This book is heavy on religion. It says that all men (unless they are not heterosexual) will lust for woman who are not their wives and this is a sin. They need to pray to God to forgive them and then give them the strength to stop this activity. This is temptation. When I say lust, I don't mean stalkers who hide in the bushes with their extermities hanging out while they watch sunbathing women in meagerly clad outer wear. (This I know is wrong.) But the book says men who look at their waitress and have fleeting thoughts of a lapdance...this kind of lust. It's a sin!

I was in the lunchroom at work while I read this and told "P" about my findings. She totally agreed. This is a sin.

We got into a discussion about amendments..I mean commandments and what is needed to get to Heaven. I asked her why God gives us the ability to have desires like having fleeting thoughts of being (in the Biblical sense) with others who are not your spouse. She says this is the devil and God has given us Free Will to make the right choices.

For a man to look at a woman and think, deep in the back of his mind, "gee I wonder how she'd be in bed?"....a rather simple unhurtful fleeting thought is not a sin. Sorry, but even in my ignorant state I can't believe God would do that. If no one gets hurt, where's the offense?

My God wouldn't make life that hard.

More on this soon.

Friends, Gifts and Business

Okay, here's the scoop. I became friends w/ my co-worker Dee when I started working here in 1999. I began in February so by the time Christmas rolled around, we had developed a friendship. We exchanged birthday and Christmas gifts..like friends do. Then, a couple years later, Dee became my boss. This didn't change our gift exchanging traditions. A couple more years later, Dee became everyone's boss.

Now I give to her and she gives to me what she gives to everyone. For my birthday, I got a card. Not a special card; not a gift. Just a run-of-the-mill, from a box, not even from the card stand. For Christmas she handed out little tins of chocolate, cute but not like it used to be. It's not that I want a gift; that's not the issue! But she's my immediate supervisor (she only manages two employee directly but she manages all the managers who manage everyone else.) I can understand her thinking that she doesn't want to show favoritism but we were friends first and it hurts to think I'm nothing more to her than a subordinate.

The VP of the department gave the receptionist a gift for her birthday. I can understand him giving it to her, she does a lot to keep the phones answered. I understand that. Wouldn't others here understand if Dee did something special for me? I seriously doubt anyone would complain that she was showing favoritism. We were friends first, I work directly under her. It makes sense.

My fellow employee, who is also directly managed by Dee, asked me if I wanted to go in with her on something for Dee for Christmas. I told her I'm really ambivalent about it; should I continue to give her gifts? I'm giving something to everyone. I like to do this but I don't think I will be giving Dee anything better than what everyone else is getting.

I know in the whole scheme of things, this is really petty. It's just what's going through my mind.

Holiday Newsletter

Each year we have send out, to family and friends, our Holiday Newsletter from Oklahoma. Phil has always confessed he didn't like doing it; that he would rather send cards. Cards are good too if you have the time to sit down and write them out. We have over 70 to prepare to mail out. As an alternative, I started writing our year long News from the Okies.

Last year, I let Scruffy write it. It was good...a few mistakes could be found but what do you want from a dog? Scruffy talked about her advertures when she was "home alone" each day. Some days she slept on the sofa, sometimes in her basket; sometimes, when she really wanted to mix things up a bit, she'd sleep in the sun under the sky light in the master bath. In the letter she'd tell all that; how what Phil and I were doing would affect her. It was cute.

Yesterday, I told Phil that Scruffy needed to get going on this year's letter. Phil's response surprised me. "We don't do anything worth mentioning!" he declared. "Nobody should care."

My first response to this was, "Well, how does that make you feel? Do you think we should be doing exciting stuff?"

He didn't have an answer.

"Every day we can open our eyes and see the sun and hop in our cars to go to work is something worth mentioning. If we can breath, we can celebrate."

And that's how I feel.

Sunday Sunday - And colonnscopy news

Today is a lazy day. I think I am still working on recovering from my colonoscopy last Thursday because all I have done today is watch football and sleep. Oh Bills won by the way - yeah! Anyway, sleeping during the day is such a luxury. I was on the sofa, under my electric throw blanket and I said to Phil, "Life is good!"

Electric throw blankets are wonderful. Phil gave it to me for Christmas last year. This is definately the gift that keeps on giving. Several times, I'd sleep a little, wake up and proclaim, "I love my blankee!" Then I'd watch a some football, then go back to sleep. It was wonderful.

The colonnoscopy, for those who have been putting it off, isn't that bad. The preparation is the worse part. Even drinking the 16 eight ounce glasses of whatever isn't that bad. I got the power stuff that you can mix with water, juice, tea, coffee, even coke (but it takes the fizz out of it, so you might not want to go there) The power is indeed tasteless. But drinking 64 onces of anything is hard. I mixed my stuff with this orange drink from Minute Maid or some similiar OJ company and it wasn't bad. Of course, I have no interest even now to consume this drink even without the powder. Not at this time.

The instructions I received from the doctor's office did not say you have 4 hours to drink all this. I called them when I was on my 13th glass and 45 minutes had passed. I was relieved to know I had several hours before it had to be all consumed. I decided to get it over with and just finished the last three glasses. Shortly there after....the games begin. My advice: stay very close by to the commode...bring in plenty of reading material.

Hunger is your next biggest enemy. Jello really does fill you if you consume enough of it. And it can stay with you for 20 minutes. You just have to keep shoveling it in. Try not to watch TV because the Subway commericials will make you cranky. Between shoveling Jello and doing all that reading...time will fly.

I found it amusing that the waiting room at the ASC is a good 30 seconds running from the restroom. This is a design flaw for sure. I mean, you probably won't need it by the time you get there, but after your prep experiences you know to not trust this.

After filling out all the paperwork and being asked for the 15th time, "are you allergic to any drugs," you get into the room. As I sat there, this one man comes in and says "Hi, I'm John, I'll be helping with your procedure."

"Hi John," I say, "I'm Eva. I'll be your patient today."

John laughs.

"So John, what are your credentials?" I ask.

"I'm a Gastroentologist Specialist. I help the doctor out with the equipment," John says.

"Oh," I pause, "So you won't be seeing my naked butt, right?"

He turns from the equipment and I can see the wheels turning in his head. "Well, actually....yes, I will."

"Oh. But I'm just another face in the crowd, huh?"

John laughs again.

I get undressed and get in bed. John comes back in and says he needs to get the scope. He comes back with this hose thingy and attaches the one large end to the machine.

"I'm glad to see that end goes in there." I point to the machine.

The nurse explains that another nurse will be in to administer some drugs to my IV so I will not be aware of much. The doctor comes in and talks to me a bit and then says, "Okay, lay on your left side."

"Wait!" I blurt, "I haven't gotten any drugs yet."

"Yeah, you will."

Sure enough a lady who tells me her name is Lesley comes in and adds some lines to my saline circulating IV. It will sting a little, she tells me. It does. The TV is in front of me and I think this will be cool to see what my colon looks like.

I never see my colon. I never see John seeing my naked butt. The next thing I know, Phil is sitting at my feet and the first nurse is telling me it's over. I knew nothing.

On the way home we stop at Subway. I wait in the car and think about getting home to my "blankee."

It's not that bad.

Happy Birthday to Me!

Well, I made it half way to 90! Yikes. How can I be 45? I was in class last Tuesday night. I was talking to one of my classmates. We got on the subject of birthdays.

"I'm going to 45 on Saturday," I said.
"Oh really," she offered all bubbly, "My mom just turned 40!"
"Oh righty now."

To top off the start of my 45th year, I'm schedule for a colonoscopy on Thursday and a bone density test on the following Tuesday. Oh righty now...yes, let the games begin!

What I need....

This is too funny.

Borrowed from Phil....
INSTRUCTIONS: Ok, go to Google. Type in "(your name) needs" Remember to use the quotes. And remember to replace (your name) with your actual name. First name only. Look at the 5 websites that say you need something. (Use different websites) What are the 5 things you need?

This is what I got...(I got 7 I liked)

1. Eva needs to work on toning down the spunk and serving up some elegance.


2. Eva needs to review all her medications with her physician, including the information that she discontinued a prescribed drug.


3. This means Eva needs her revenge, and she could use some help getting it.


4. Lonely and devastated, Eva needs love like any other human being, but love is something she'll never find; instead, she's stuck in a cell with Elvira, who is as predatory as the men on the outside who ruined her life.


5. What Eva needs is solitude; she needs time to be with herself. Now that Burt is no longer a burden to her, she can lead her own life and make her own decisions without the constant worry of his harassment.


6. Eva needs to find the source of a mysterious illness sweeping across Africa.


7. Eva needs to understand the connection between anxiety and the fear of moving.

Too funny!

Politically Correct?

Today my boss, Dee, was talking to me about a report I gave her. The VP of the department came over and Debi stopped talking to me and directed all her attention to the VP. VP Man did not apologize for the interuption. He just kept talking to Debi like it was expected of her to stop our dialogue to focus on him. I said, "Dee, come back here and talk to me." She said, "I will in a minute."

Now, I know I'm a pion. I get that, but my time is valuable too. Personally I think Dee should have said, "VP Man, I'll get back right with you in a minute, I'm talking to Eva." But I get the feeling I'm dreaming. If Dee and VP Man were meeting and I needed her, I'd have to wait until they were done or, if it was a serious emergency, I'd have to apoligize for the interuption. Is it wrong to ask for the same kind of consideration? The time I spend with Dee is not for fun and games. It's for work. I just don't get it. Maybe I'm not happy with my status in the workplace. Maybe it's just me. The world has accepted the notion that VP's carry more weight but for some reason I didn't get that memo.

Just thinking.

I am a lamb.....Baaaaa

You Are A: Lamb!

Peaceful and gentle, lambs have been used in religious imagery for millennia. Lambs are baby sheep, an animal tended by shephards since the dawn of history. As a lamb, you tend to stay together in a flock and graze on grassy land. Lambs don't mind being led and tend not to go off on their own.

You were almost a: Groundhog or a Duckling
You are least like a: Turtle or a ChipmunkWhat Cute Animal Are You?

EMPLOYER WANTED

Dedicated, creative, computer literate individual would like to work for a company who values a good work ethic; who believes in supporting its employees as the employees do their job to better the company; who doesn't tolerant big-headness or a "that ain't my job" attitude; who expects its employees to work together "for the cause"; who embraces the employees other talents that may not fall in their job description; who believes in their employees and actually asks for their input on how to do something better; who gives freely their encouragement and tries to make the workplace a fun place to work.

Dream on, right?

It's just 'stuff"

I had a conversation today with a lady at work about the victims of Katrina. She is suppose to get a displaced family to come and live with her and her daughter. Although I admire her good-nature and big heart, I told her that I don't think I could do it. I'm not so trusting. I work all day. What would this family do while I was gone? I know, I'm too cynical but I can just imagine my laptop, 34" screen televlsion, stereo, CD collection just walking out the door of my home. I told her this. She said, "It's just stuff. If they need it that bad, then so be it...they can take it."

Yeah, it's just stuff but it's my stuff. And yes, the chances of this family being a good family is greater the chances of them being bad people. I guess I believe that. But you just never know and that's what stops me.

I believe my things are things and that if a hurricane or tornato (I'm in Oklahoma, remember) came through and took them from me but left my husband, dog and me in tact, I would be very grateful. Losing them would not be so bad. But if they left me because of someone else's doing, that would be something different. If that makes me materialistic...well, I am.

I am helping out someone who is a victim of Katrina. My friend, John, has a gentleman staying with him who has been displaced. His name is Jose and although I haven't met him yet, I want to help. I put up a flyer at work asking for donations of clothing. I have some people willing and able (they have clothes that will fit him) to donate. I'm glad for that.

I do feel like I'm doing my part. Yes, I could do more, but something is better than nothing, right?

The holiday is over...

Today I took a nap in the middle of the day! And you know why I took a nap? Because I could!!!! Man, I love days like that. I wasn't overly constructive but we did do some things today that needed to get done. We trimmed the hedges. Did laundry. Cooked some foods to have during the week. Life is good.

We also re-connected with our neighbors across the street. I'm so happy for that opportunity. I feel so isolated from my neighbors and I know it is partly my fault because I don't always put myself out there. I think about it a lot but I am a little shy, I guess. Phil is even worse than me. Of course, once the ice is broken we are good.

I remember when our neighbors next door moved in. Phil and I were like Doug and Carrie on The King of Queens.

We had visions of a nice mid-age couple without kids (or grown kids) from out of town who knew nobody so we could become fast friends...maybe even put a gate in between our fences for easy access to each other's yard. Or maybe get one of those pool ladders to straddle the fence. We'd sit in one of our yards, drink beer, maybe get one of those outdoor fireplace so we could sit out there all year round. Of course we'd go over to each other houses, play dominos, eat pizza, watch football.

When they moved in, I wanted to go over pretty quick as they unpacked...you know, stake our claim "They're our friends, gosh darn it!" Phil was more resistant. He wanted to wait but as I walked over, he followed me...tagging along. We went though the usual stuff, names, where they are from, occupations, etc. It was good but far from my visions. Oh, they are nice people but they have lived here all their lives. They don't need any more friends and they are surrounded by family. So we are just on a first name over the fence bases.

We have never gotten invited over. Yes, I haven't invited them either but that is because my house isn't child proof and what do you do with two little kids while the adults pay dominos. It would be so much easier if they invited us over. It's been two yaars and it hasn't happened. Phil and I are okay with it, just wish it was different.

I think about the reports you hear on the news where one neighbor is slain in their house and the other neighbor says to the news camera, "Oh, they just kept to themselves. It's a real shame," as they nod their head in disbelief. I don't want to be like that. I really want a sense of a community. I guess I will have to work on this.

Angel over Philip

Hey all. I think this photo is amazing. The picture behind us is really a jigsaw puzzle our friend Tim put together and then had mounted and framed. Tell me you don't see the angel over Philip's head? I swear, I did not doctor this photo up.

Commercial

Have you seen that commercial where the lady is in a row boat with her boyfriend or gentleman caller and suddenly her eyes light up and the announcers start singing..."Gotta go, gotta go..gotta go right now." She has a condition where her bladder needs to be emptied often. I have to wonder, does she not know she has this? Is this the first time this has happened to her? The announcer comes on and lets us all know, she has a reoccuring condition. So my question is why they hell does she get in a row boat in the first place? Did she think the seat lifted up and a toilet appeared? What's up with that?

First Night of school

Well, it had to happen. The summer had to end and school had to start again. Generally I like the end of summer because that means the beginning of fall which is my favorite season...cooler weather, football, the sun isn't so friggin bright on my peepers...but I'm not excited about school this time. I'm taking a 2000 level class on Magazine editing. It's not doing anything for me. Fortunately it's once a week, albeit for three hours every Tuesday from 7:30-10:30.

I had the instructor before for Feature Writing. I snagged an A there although, I have to say, I really deserved it. I managed to get three features published in Oklahoma Women . This was last May, July and September. That was good exposer.

Anyway, maybe there will be kids (yeah right, let's go with that) my age in class. At least I know the instructor is older than me, but not by much. I am what they call a "non-traditional" student. This basically means, I could have given birth to most of the kids in my classes. Okay, not all of them but that would be a good story.

Time for class.

Eddie's Bastard

I just finished this book by William Kowalski. It was so good. He's a great storyteller. The books takes place in Mannville, NY, a fictious town on Lake Erie. The cool part, for me, is that although the town doesn't exist the surrounding towns do. It mentions Angola, NY which is where I grew up, for real! The loved the reference to Buffalo, NY. It made the book that much more fun to read. This is the first book Kowalski wrote that was set in Mannville. I also read his second, The Adventures of Flash Jackson. That was good too but sometimes he got hung up on unneccessary details. I liked them both.

Okay....now I have to do some of my own writing.

Got a confession to make...

Phil went home yesterday..for 11 days! I feel so bad because as I sit here at work I think, "I'm home alone!" and I feel...glee! Pure unadulterated GLEE!!!! I feel guilty about this, but I can't help but feel happy about not having to be subject to baseball on the television or on the Internet; not having to eat at certain scheduled times; not having to plan my getting-ready-for-work activities around anyone elses schedule. I can have Cherios for dinner if I want! I can read in the livingroom because I can keep the television--a novel idea--OFF! I can get a pizza for dinner and it will last me 5 meals! How bad am I?

I might get really deviant too and get a coconut cream pie and eat the whole friggin thing myself right from the TIN...no using a plate (not in one sitting, I'm not THAT bad).

For 11 days I can work on my writing; clean the house; organize my "stuff"; read all the books I have out of the library ...4 right now! Be free!!! Be free!!!! How bad am I?

Check out the Biker Chicks...

I just had to post this here.

Senseless Rules

I have just been informed that i can not listen to the radio after work hours. Even though only a handful of people are here, I can not put on the radio. Okay...whatever. I will do what I need to do to stay employed no matter how totally illogical and petty it might be! It's their rules. If they say I can't wear purple to work, then, by golly, I guess I won't be wearing purple. Never mind the fact there are more important things to dwell on. I'm a reasonable person...especially when faced with the realization I have no other choice.

I am so bad..

Phil is mad at me. I gave away our guest bed. It's a queen and I would love to keep it but I really want to use that room for more than the once a year guest we get and a place to store all fifty zillion TV Guides Phil has collected since Bill Clinton was President.

To be truthful, I had "donation remorse" too. A girl at work said her friend, a single woman, mother of four, was in need of a bed. I've been wanting to get rid of the bed for a while and buy a daybed for the guest room for some time now. I caustionly put my plan into motion when I saw a daybed for sale at an area antiques shop on Broadway. Phil turned a deaf ear to my plan but for some reason I was compelled to move forward with it. Part of me didn't want to "give" it away but then I thought it was against the law to sell mattresses and the next thing I knew I was making a sign for the billetin board in the lunch room. I didn't even put the sign up. Three girls in my department all spoke up for it. They verbally duked it out and decided to give it the person who needed it the most. The winner being the single mom of four. Phil was none to happy when I told him the news.

This morning I went to the antique store to buy the bed...yeah! My luck..it was gone. So the guest bed is now in the pickup bed of Regina's husband's truck on route to a worthy destination, no doubt and my plan has staled.

My new mission is to find a cheap day bed somewhere. Oh, and try to get Phil out of his begruntly charitible funk.

Just an observation...

If there is one thing I am sure of, without a doubt, it is my sexual orientation. That being said, I wish to relay a observation.

Yesterday one of the ladies I work with got a visit from her daughter and her grandkids. The daughter has three kids, one is 3 years old, the other is not two yet and the youngest is 4 weeks. The mother (not the one I work with but the daughter) is a woman of substantial substance. She was wearing a low cut shirt over her ample bossom. Now I have no particular attraction to anyone's bossem but I couldn't help but look...like an accident scene. These things were huge! I'm sure lactating has helped this endevour but I can't even understand how she can stand erect. I didn't get a clear look, not that I wanted one, but I could only imagine they would be like soggy pumperknickle bread loaves with nipples on them. They hung down to her waist. The girl is no more than 25 years old but gravity is not being kind to her even now. I just couldn't believe they could be so big!

No More Books for Me

Yesterday I finished a novel I've been reading for a few days. I was on the stationary bike at the Y with only 27 pages left to read. I ended up staying on the bike longer than my 20 minutes because I just had to finish the darn thing.

"The End!" I proclaimed to no one in particular. The lady one bike down from me didn't even flitch...her headset affixed to her like it belonged there.

I was thinking I should stop at the library and get another book or maybe I could wait until today It made me a little anxious to know I didn't have a book to read. Could I possibly wait until Sunday to go? Not that I don't have enough blog reading to do. I waited...watched a movie, read some blogs, played my Pop Drop game on myway.com.

I worked today. Yes, burned that Sunday oil. Afterward, I went to the library. I combed the isles looking for the book...that one that would grab me, throw me against the wall and scream "read me! read me!" Nothing suited me. Then I got to thinking...reading other people's books is a procrastinating tool my psychy or something inside me uses to get me to not write one myself. So often, when I start reading a book it brings up thoughts of what I could say. I even wrote this blog in my head on the way home...one the way home bookless. The book stops here, people. No more procrasting. I have to seriously write something. This is starting to piss me off because I know I can. I just got to do it.

Gotta clean my house.

I need drugs

At the office, here, we have this medicine chest. It's up on the wall in one of the coffee areas. It is filled with aspirin, non-aspirin, cold capsules, sinus pills, allergy pills, etc. Each one come in little wrappers, two pills per wrapper. It's a wonderful perk for the company to think of supplying us with the medicines we need to keep our heads up high enough to do our jobs. The problem is...there is NEVER any Valium or Darvoset in there. I really think that's not right! It doesn't matter what time of the day I go into it, it is always out! I spoke to management about this and they are going to look into it. My thinking is, the person who replenishes the supply is hording the Valium and they should be punished. We'll have to see how that goes.

I'm in Charge!

My boss is out today as was my co-worker. This means I'm in charge! I'm in charge of myself. I think I might be taking this a little too seriously. I've been really cracking the whip...really pushing myself around a lot. I even sexually harrassed myself! Yeah! I kept slapping myself on the butt saying, "Good job, honey, good job!" I suppose I should go downstairs and report myself to management. I really shouldn't be allowed to do this. I mean there are laws you have to follow when you're in charge. This is gross misconduct on my part. Somebody needs to sit me down and really give me a good talking to. I'll let you know how it works out.

Playground and Toy Boxes ...Yeah Right

Okay, here's a photo of two businesses near my house. Oklahoma Playgrounds is a company that makes playsets for kids. And so appropiately...if there's a playgound, why not a 'toy box?' There's Christie's Toy Box right next door. Hello? They don't sell jacks and balls there, okay maybe they do sell balls....ones that come with an AC adaptor. How funny is that?

If you got it....

This woman is totally naked. Her clothes, or what you see on her have been painted on her. Well, except for the high heels...they're real. How funny is that?

Hello!

I was recently reminded of a situation where my hands ended up getting thrown in the air and my eyeballs hit the ceiling. On July 2nd I was vacationing in WNY and I went to my brother's house for a pre-July 4th party. My mother, who everyone was expecting at Ed's house, decided she wasn't up to going so it was just me and my dad. We walk into the back yard together and head out to the tent where everyone is sitting, standing, drinking, what have you. This women who I do not remember looks at me and says, "Mary!" Mary is my mom and yes we look like mother and daughter but to be accused of being her seems to me to be a stretch.

"Um....she's 70!!!" I find myself saying out loud. "Hello!" This does not set well with me all night.

****

Yesterday my husband and I went to Target to get a few things. This is one of those Target Supersavers so you can buy all kinds of stuff. Phil goes to the grocery section while I check out the sports bras (started to jump rope at the Y...yeah...need a little support there.) I meet up with Phil in the frozen foods. We go to the check out. I start to read the magazines but I remember the bra and I know Phil is embarrassed to be buying it without a woman with him. I head to the other end, next to where you sign your name on the credit machine thingy. I'm watching the checker lady. Phil had placed the bra on the check out belt. Had I been in line, I wouldn't have even set it down but I know Phil is too embarrassed to do that. The bra is the last thing to go get scanned. Checkout lady puts it in the same sack as the bananas! I'm like "Hello!"
"Did you not show up for 'purchase packing' class?" I step up and remove the bra from the bananas and ask for another bag. "She's 70!" rings through my head.

Stop the world, I want to get off

There is so much bad stuff in the world today I just feel like ignoring it and burying my head in the sand and hoping it just goes away. I know I should be more socially conscience but I just don't want to be. Ignorance is not only bliss, it's what gets me up each day. I feel if I turn a deaf ear or a blind eye to what I have no control over, I'll do better for me. Now, this is not to say that if something were happening right outside my door, I would act the same but events thousands of miles away..I just feel it's okay to be ignorant. Does anyone agree with me? It's okay if you don't because I can pretty much turn a deaf ear/blind eye to that too. I feel bad for all the turmoil terrorists are doing but what really can I do?

I was at the Y today and there was a couple in their, I imagine, 70s doing some exercises on little blue mats right off the indoor track. I found myself so drawn to them. I really wanted to ask them if they needed anything; if they could use a little instruction...anything. I wanted to talk to them. Now, here is something I know I can help out - I can make a difference (albeit on a much smaller scale). I love working with seniors and I really should find a place where I do that. Or more of it. They were laying down and when they got up, I so much wanted to race to their sides to help them steady themselves. I didn't feel comfortable but I did watch them to see if they were at all wobbly...fortunately they were not. (Had they been, I would have gone over to them in a heartbeat.) I did finally ask the woman when she came over to the machine I had finished with if she needed any help. She said, "No, it's all programmed into the machine, but thanks for asking." So she knew more than I thought she would know. I wanted to congratulate her for her dedication to exercise. It's over 100 degrees here and it's uncomfortable to be out in it even to run from AC to AC.

Anyway, I guess what I am trying to say is that I need to be in some control. I certainly don't have any on world issues so I need to just concentrate on the local.

The lady at Walmart

The lady at Walmart was named Alberta. I was so tempted to ask if her sister was Ontario and her brother was Nova Scotia. I really was!

Awfical Blues

I'm sitting at my desk in my Awfical (Office+Cubical=Awfical) and I'm going nuts. Love the work. Just can't stand snorting co-worker of substance. He snorts every 60 seconds or so. Grabs whatever bile is in his lung and snorts it into his head so, I imagine, he can swallow it. It is so disgusting! I have complained but apparently it's a "medical condition" and "he can't help it". Yeah, right. I remember a time when I cried a lot at work. I was told it was unprofessional and tears weren't allowed in the workplace. I used to be ashamed of it. Intellectually I knew it was stupid but emotionally...I couldn't stop. Well, by golly it's a medical condition! I can't help it. Don't think nothing of it. It's just my illness. Guess I can save the money on my Zoloft..cool. That's what I'm going to do. Weed of the drugs and just let the tears roll.

Okay..back to work.

What now?

Okay, my vacation is over until November. Work is busy as can be..even busier than that...they are letting me do overtime which is like so unheard of..."time and a half, what? are you nuts?" School doesn't start until the end of August...now what? Oh, I know...I could work on that short story I started to write for "TRUE STORY." Have you ever read any of those stories? They are so lame but I probably shouldn't say that since I might need to make nicey nicey with the editor (as if). You should look at them at the library. The headlines on the front cover are something like, "My mother caught me masterbating...will I ever see again?" I know I could write better stories than you will find in there. All of them have happy endings where the narrator learns a lesson.

Okay, back to the subject at hand....what's next? I know I should go to a pilates class but the Y has them at 7:45pm and it's hard for me to leave the house once I am home. Phil and I go to the Y three times/week but not usually that late. I go right from work. I hang out a work a while because if you to the Y early, it's too crowded. Everyone wants to get their workout in before dinner. Phil and I eat late usually.

Oh, I could clean my house. Yeah, there's a thought.

I do want to learn more about Access too. I could work on that. I could join the PC Users Group in OKC and go to meetings. I could learn more about investing. There is a lot to learn. I'm just not finding anything here.

I gotta think about it more.

Me and Mom

I think I have discovered how to put photos on my blog. Oh, good, something new to play with. This is me and mom at Bingo last Tuesday. You would never believe I was adopted? Okay, nice try, huh?

The Box

Randy Travis had a great song out a few years ago. I have it on his greatest hits CD which I play in my car. The song is called THE BOX. It's a ballad about a man whose father just passed on and in the process of attending to his dad's things, he comes across a wooden box in his father's workshop. He carefully lifts the top off and in it, he finds personal momentoes of his dad's life...some things he is surprised to find...a poem the dad wrote about his wife and child; a long lost pocketknife the singer gave to his dad for father's day; postcards and pictures. The singer says, "we had all thought his heart was made of solid rock, but that was before we found the box."

I had heard the song before I went back home last week. I really wanted to find the opportunity to sit down with my dad and talk about "stuff". I did try...a little but it just didn't happen.

I had noticed a wirey fake flower wrapped around a button on my dad's shirt - obviously a gift from a fund raiser he apparently donated to - when I first arrived on Wednesday night. I noticed the flower again on Thursday. On Friday...I had to say something...you can't wear a shirt for three days...you just can't. I told him he needed to change his shirt, that he had worn it long enough. "You're wacky," he said to me. He has said this to me a lot over the years.

"There's a man at work. He's 82 years old. He told me he needs his wife to tell him when to take a shower because 'when you get his age, you need to be told'. He's 82 and still works." I told him this so he knew he wasn't alone; that his thinking was normal for a man of 75 and he shouldn't feel so bad. Dad left the room. I really thought he had taken my advice. A little while later, I saw him and that same wirey flower around the same button.

"Oh," I said. "I was hoping I didn't hurt your feelings."

He walked by me on his way to the basement. "I don't have any feelings anymore."

"When did you lose them?" I asked. He laughed and kept on going. The next day he changed his shirt.

I want my dad to write his thoughts down because if I ask him he doesn't know how to answer. It seemed like everything I asked him he answered with a question or some big prologue that was so unnecessary. I must have said 15 times last week, "Dad, please just answer the question." He kept thinking his answer wasn't what I wanted to hear but the reality is, it didn't matter to me what the answer was...I just wanted an answer. Example, he was going to drive me over to my friends house so, as we were leaving, I asked him, "Should I lock the door?" To which he replied, "What for?" "Dad, just answer the question. It doesn't matter to me if it is locked or not, I just want to know what do you normally do when you leave." (They live in a small village outside of Buffalo, NY. There is a crime rate but not a high one and locking the doors when I was a kid was an option but not mandatory. I haven't lived there in twenty years so what do I know?)

I might have to wait to find "the box." I just don't know if that's the best thing.

My Mother's Wine

I'm visiting my folks in Western NY. I have been here for four days and I am exhausted. My mother is 70, heavily affected by osteoporosis and unable to walk more than a couple steps assisted by a walker. She is also legally blind. Normally she is the most positive person you could meet even with all her health issues. She often replies, "there are people worse off than me," when I say, "my poor mama." She works for TAP (Telephone Assistance Program) where she calls shut in a couple times per week. Her big high light it so go to BINGO on Tuesdays with my dad and sister-in-law. Aside from doctor appointments it is her only chance to get out. She reads Guidepost and can quote from Dr Norman Vincent Peale. She says she can do anything if she wants to if she puts her mind to it. I once joked with her that she just might have a problem getting into the space program. "My books also tell me I shouldn't be around people who are so negative," she gruffs at me.

Mom has always liked her alcohol. She's not a drunk but I could rely stories from my childhood where alcohol played a big role in my life. Last night, Dad and I got back from visiting my brother. Mom was invited but decided she wasn't up to going. When we returned it was blatantly obvious she had gotten into the wine. I was not in the room where dad was making up a plate of food that we brought home for her but when I entered the room, dad was fuming, "How many glasses of wine did you have!" Mom went quiet which is not a good thing because you know the wheels, lubricated by the wine, are turning around in her head faster than normal. She sits in her wheelchair, behind her big thick Pre-80s style glasses, randomly sticking her fork into the left over baked beans and potato salad on her plate. After a few mouthfuls she not too forcefully throws her fork into the plate and gushes, "I can't believe you father reprimand me just because I had a little wine." By now she is crying.

My father has escaped to the livingroom after his assault where the TV volume level is set to 75 year old ears. I have traveled 1200 miles to witness this scenario no doubt a repeat of my last visit. I am mad at dad for bringing this up. Even I know you don't confront a drinking spouse about her drinking while her head is swimming. Now, I'm in this position to make everything right again. I have not deluded myself into thinking this is ever possible, but I have a need to try. I convince mom to go to bed. She agrees to that as she rolls away in a huff. I get the kitchen somewhat organized and go into her bedroom. She is halfway dressed; her exposed flesh making me gasp. My heart is breaking to see her so frail, so thin....her last weight reading was 89 lbs. This is a woman who averaged throughout her adult life around 140 lbs. I leave her to changing herself because I am not comfortable with helping her and she is by no means, even in her slightly inebriated state about to welcome my help. I return a few minutes later. She is in laying in bed, in a heap of arm, shoulder, back bones. The osteoposis is so advanced her neck extends her head down to her chest which was pigeoned chested since birth making the bone heap higher. She senses my presense. "I can not do the things you all can do," she declares between tears. "I can not go bowling, I can not drive, I can not walk much. Why does he have to make me feel bad for having a little wine?"

I sit on the edge of the bed, touch her thin arm, notice the veins therewith. "Mom, it is just so bad for you," I say softly.

"Bad for me? He smokes!"

"That's bad for him too, but wine can make you dizzy and you can not afford to take another fall," I have had this conversation before.

We go back and forth. She's not buying it. I finally say, "I don't know what more to tell you. It is just bad for you and we are never going to agree on this."

I let her go to sleep. My father should not smoke but at 75, I don't think it would make a big difference in his health if he stopped. It would make the house smell better though. I see his ice cream in the freezer and think to complain to him that there is too much fat in it but I think, "at this point, why bother?"

I can see mom's point. I don't discourage dad from his vices but I do mom. She can not see the harm...even after all the surgeries, the confidements, the pain she has entured over the past 18 years. I wish I could offer an alternative but I have no idea. It breaks my heart.

On picking a church

I have lived in Oklahoma for almost seven years. I have thought about joining a church and I have gone to a couple churches in the past two years for services, weddings and funerals. I just haven't bothered to join.

I guess I am hoping to find a church that isn't so hung up on religion....so hung up on the rules. I know, sounds more like a social club. It seems strange to me that here I am in the so-called "Bible-Belt" and yet the crime rate is so high. So friggin high. How can that be?

There are so many churchs here...as popular as 7-11's.....one on every other corner. There are all kinds of denominations too...Baptist (I went to a funeral at a Baptist Church...there were so much "amen"ing and "praise the Lord"ing the poor pastor couldn't get though the service.); Catholic (went to a memorial service at a Catholic church... the priest actually kissed the pulpit, kissed his Bible, kissed his little sash he wears. I got my arobic workout by kneeling, sitting down, standing up, kneeling, sitting, standing.); Lutherin (no slightly amusing tales to share there). Then there are so many who have to be first...First Church of Edmond; First Church of Christ; First Church of Overthinking...everyone wants to be number one! What's up with that?

I also want a church who isn't going to discriminate because you are gay or pro-choice. I am neither of these things, but I still don't want someone telling them they are wrong. My church would except you for who you are. Well, of course, there are limits there too since I still don't think it's okay to be a pediphil or a murderer...so I guess acceptance has its limits too. It angers me so when you hear on the news how church members can justify bombing an abortion clinic. It's like, what is wrong with this picture?

My church would just believe in being good; doing good things and having a little prayer now and then. My friend at work says I should read the Bible. I know this isn't going to happen. I believe what I believe and I really don't think I need to talk about it. When a friend sends me one of those emails that says, "If you love God, you will forward this to 10 people." It ain't going to happen. God knows fully well what I feel about him. I don't need to bug 10 friends about it. I also don't want my church to post the tally of my contributions. I don't think church should cost me anything...if it does, I won't go.

What I should do is Church shop...go to a new one every week and then make a decision. I'm going to sleep on that. Good night.

The birds have my name on their beaks...

They are saying, "Cheap, cheap.." I will admit, I am a cheapskate. As I had stated before, I'm really big on thrift shopping. Oh man, the deals I got yesterday just make me want to squeal. I bought this beautiful Amanda Smith two piece suit...ivory, fully lined, with pleats in the skirt and functional pockets in the skirt and in the jacket. It is in great shape. I just need to get it dry cleaned. I paid a whooping $2! Yeah...that's two bucks. Whoever owned it before me couldn't have worn it more than once. The threads on the waist band that held on the cardboard label are still intact. Those are the threads that you need a seam ripper to pull. I bought my husband a perfect pair of Dockers...his exact size for 50 cents! I also bought a jumper (made in the USA) for $1.75. All are going to the dry cleaners today (except for the Dockers which are machine washable). I may never pay retail ...or even sale price retail again. Sorry I if am dwelling on the unimportant....I just can't help it.

Work is so darn busy. I have a major mailout that has to be ready to go out Wednesday. I'm going home Wednesday morning (6/29-7/7). I'll get the mail merge done, the letters printed but someone else will have to stuff envelopes. I'm not missing my plane. Besides if I were in charge...if only...it would have been done by now...but that's another story. More later.

Bloggernauts Unite

I'm new to this blogging and I gotta say, I'm loving it. And it seems so many are on the same track. I'm so glad there are people out in cyberland who know how to write...not this "how r u doin 2 nite?" crap. When chatting with people, even those with a piece of paper that says they received an education, it amazes me how they got so far when they say things like, "Your so funny," or "There going to the beach." Aw...what a turn off. (Okay, I'm not above making an error now and then, but you know when it's an error and just plain laziness.) It's refreshing and unfortunately I have to cut this short as my lunch is over. Dang this working for a living...really cuts into your personal time. :)

My Physical Therapist is Amazing

Oh...I feel good all over. Just back from PT. Dr. Love (I'm not making this up) is so good. I said, "You must have a very happy wife," as his hands did its thing on the tension in my shoulders and neck. Then he hooked me up to these electroids...on my lower back and my shoulders/neck area. They sent electricity to my skin as I laid on hot pads. It was so fine...until the buzzer went off and I had to leave. Damn. Damn it was good.

Not much else new in my world. Snorting co-worker was still doing his thing but I managed to tune it out. Life is good.

OMG...I'm getting comments! This is so great!

Oh, I can not believe it! People are reading me! I'm so darn excited. One commentor who collects interesting imbecile stories (an interesting past time...certainly not boring) conceded that I am not an imbecile just a poor maiden in need of a life. I say, touchet but as my blog disclaims..."It's kind of mundane but I like it that way." (Okay, not all the time...I'm working on that.) Thanks for reading. It has made my intensely data-entry-laden-life-at-work bearable. I don't mind being in my "Awfical" even if my co-worker (a man of substance...how's that for a euphemism?) still insists on swallowing the bile he resurrects from his lungs every three or four minutes. (I'm just happy there isn't an odor attached to it.) So thank you.

Since I am at work, I have made my browser screen microscopic so only one short line of text is visible amongst the Access database I have open. I'm just one quick click away from not being discovered. Of course, this doesn't include the MIS guys downstairs. "Hi Steve"...in case he is watching my every keystroke. They said I can't email but they didn't say anything about blogging. I'm of the belief you sometimes need to NOT ask. Just do and apologize later if need be.

I better get back to work. More on my boring life later. Oh, and did I say, Thanks for reading?!!!

Found a book, found a bargain, got some bread

Could life get much better? I went to the Edmond Farmers Market. Didn't buy a farmer but I was looking. I did get some bread, zuchinni/raisen/nut...love it. Then I went to the library and a book grabbed me enough to actually check it out. Plus I learned how to do the self-service check out. That is so cool...scan your card, scan your book, out pops the receipt. See, I'm so easily amused.

Then I went to this thrift shop on Litter. There were a lot of cars in the general area of the shop. I found out why...almost everything was half price. I bought four pairs of slacks for a whopping $2.16. Two of them I have to hem to make into Capris...I'm just too tall and finding my inseam is a feat. One is for Phil but I might have to hem them because he's so short (not really but his legs are shorter than mine even though he is taller than me). The other...Eddie Baurer...is a good fix. My waist is 32 and my inseam is 34...the Eddie Bauer is exactly that which is amazing because clothing people, or the person who purchases the clothing for stores, usually don't have 34 inseam unless your waist is 34 or larger. Of course, I don't shop at the high end places when I am looking to pay retail. But even the cataloges (Penneys, Sears) don't think long legged people are relatively thin. Most catalogs list a tall size and state the inseam is 32...whooo whoooo. Anyway, I'm happy w/ my finds.

Since I started this Pilates exercise, my body has gone amuck. There's this one exercise where you have to squeeze the muscle that you use to stop yourself from peeing. I can't remember the muscle..I think it starts with a "K". Well, you won't believe it but I think I pulled that muscle. Something "in there" hurts a bit now. Only I could do this! Wait till I tell my Physical Therapist. He'll flip.

I gotta go...later.

Tom and Katy are getting Married!

Oh, I'm so happy for them. Really! Okay...not really. I can't believe this is headline stuff. Like Michael Jackson being found not guilty. It was the headline in the Oklahoman. Surely this can not be the most important item in the news, no? The local news this morning had a story about Tom Cruise and Katy Holmes...he proposed to her at the Effiel Tower. Okay, yes, I'm jealous but I still don't think this is headline stuff. I told Phil, imagine going some place for leisure and not having to worry about how much money you are spending. We can't do that...everything has a price. We can't go bowling, it cost a fortune...money better spend on food and clothing. I just can't imagine the ease of just buying what you want....and I'm not talking about extravant stuff...I mean just lunch and tickets to a play or a concert or simple stuff.

Oh well. Maybe in another life.

I go to the library (thank God that's free) and I try to find a book that really grabs me, throws me against the wall and screams "read me, read me!" I can't find one at the moment. I'm sure I will eventually but I have taken two out and discovered I couldn't get into them. I'm so picky. I just like upbeat happy girl meets boy kind of books. I seem to gravitate to the first person narrative. Like, The Book of Joe and Everything Changes by Tropper. I need to find one this weekend.

Oh. what to do?

Lunch time in my "awfical" (used to be 'Offical' as in a combo of office and cubical...now an awfical). I have the heater blasting. I had my back on ice until it melted. Thank God for reuseable ice packs. I was surfing the many blogs on the net. Some are very interesting. Some just want to sell something, some just want me to know about their sex life. Not necessary....Thank you very much. I wonder if anyone ever just comes upon my blog. I hope they leave a comment.

I have PT tonight. Phil's getting a pizza. That works for me. His sister's birthday was yesterday. They got pizza and I think Phil felt bad to not be there. He said we should have pizza tonight because they had it yesterday back home. I said, we should celebrate Kathy's birthday, too. Phil doesn't let on what he's feeling or when he's missing his family. He should tell me more. He did say he was jealous that I was going home in two weeks and he wasn't. "I didn't plan my vacation, right," he said. I didn't tell him what I was thinking...that I wanted to go back without him. Nothing personal...I just want to concentrate on my visit w/ my mom and dad. If he were there too, I'd have to spend more time at his family's and I really don't want to. I will see his mom for sure. I'm not sure if I will stay the night though. I'm at someone's mercy for a car or a ride. Anyway, I'm glad he shared his feelings with me.

I better go. Later....

I need an Attitude Adjustment

No, doubt! I can't get people to understand that the world does revolve around me. What's wrong with them...all of them? Surely they know the sun rises each day for me, no? I want more than I'm getting. I want people to know where I'm coming from before I have to explain it. I want to be in control. I want to work more. How crazy is this? I want to work but my boss won't let me. Budget issues, she says. OH, then she says I'm being too perfect...spending too much time on my project. She knows it won't ever be perfect but I want to make it as perfect as possible. Surely management can understand that? No? I want a job where I can work till my hearts content. Is that so much to ask for? I want to be in demand, by golly...I'm worth it.

I need to remind myself....the world doesn't work the way I want it to work no matter how illogical that may be.

Saturday headache

There ought to be a law against having a monster headache on a Saturday. This headache was definately a "call in sick to work" headache. It's gotten better but it's still there. Caffeine doesn't seem to touch it. It's a sinus thing no doubt. The weather is freaky too; a barometric change happening. Phil had said the models were setting up unusually according to the National Weather Service. There is a hurricane in the gulf...storm Arlene is brewing. I think she's messing with my head.

I am going to physical therapy. My therapist, Mr. Love, has told me the bad news on Thursday. My structure is really out of whack. I need to do Pilates...a series of exercises designed to help with my posture. Most of my aches and pains can be linked to my poor posture. The good news....I'm not a worse case scenerio. I need to do my strength exercises too tonight.

I would really like it if I had someone to blog with. I have one friend, Rob but he's not very reliable. I also have Liz but she is too busy too. Everyone has a life but me.

Went to a party at Kathy and Al Wheelers. It was fun but it would be more fun for me if people paid a little attention to me. Yes, I am sure that is a defect in my persona that probably is a catch 22...this need no doubt turns people off, even if I don't come out and say so. There was one girl there I talked to, Christa or Christin or something like that. I told Phil I didn't care for her personality. The truth is though, it's probably one of these "don't like you" before you make it clear you don't like me. I'm whacked.

Newsletter disaster

I finally got the word that I could copy and distribute my newsletter "The Illuminator" to everyone in the department. Debi said it was a go. I had to redo the letter on Publisher, which I had been doing on my own time. Something happened when I was saving it. Apparently I was updated an older version. I printed it out, in a hurry because I knew the time situation was an issue for Debi. It was wrong! Debi brought it back to me. I was so mad at myself. I fixed it but then after I sent it out again, it was still wrong! Here was this chance for me to shine a little, to show off my creative skills and I frigged it up. I started to cry. I talked to Debi about it. I told her, "I'm not trying to make excuses but I didn't want to spend too much time on it so I didn't review it again. I thought I had made those changes weeks ago." She looked at me and I could see the wheels turning...the expression said, "well you didn't check it and now it's wrong." Debi is not good at supporting you when she thinks you're slightly wrong. Aw.....I was so upset. I was trying to tell Flora. She understood. Aw....more later.

The Artist's Way

I started reading the book THe Artist's Way. I need to do what they call "morning pages." This exercise consists of writing every day three pages of whatever is on your mind. They want you to do it in longhand which really is hard for me. I tried to do it and the first paragraph almost paralized my wrist. I wonder if it would be less affective if I type it. Maybe I could blog it. I need to ask Liz.

APRIL 14TH, 2005

Work is where I am...doing the mindless, repetitive...a trained monkey..okay a highly trained monkey could do this. Changing provider specialties in "the system". I'm feeling overwhelmed with school. So much is due and Jim, Debi and the kids will be here on Saturday. My boss is off to Washington on Tuesday. Why does life get so busy at once?

April 7th, 2005

I want to be one of these students here in the Cyber Cafe at school who are clink clinking on the keyboard writing out all they need to say, having their thoughts just pour out of them. I'm not like that, unfortunately. I play my stupid computer game because I can play it here and not at work. I can blog at work. I lost my game before hitting 500k so that was a waste of time.

News Editing was canceled. Dr. Clark said that might happen as an old colleage who used to work here was dying and they knew it was a matter of time. He died last Friday. Classes were canceled on Tuesday. I called to check. It was so strained to ask if there would be class, like I was looking to get out of class. I should have said, I have no problem w/ going to class. I'm trying to avoid an unnecessary trip. Sherry Stupp, the lady who works for the journalism department listened to me babble out my consolence speech, all the while I'm thinking she is thinking I don't care about the teacher they lost and I just want to get out of class. I didn't know him. I'm sad for the teachers who did and who will miss him but honestly I guess I am looking to see how his death affects me. That's the bottom line.

Since class was canceled I made my way here to the student center. I had lost $3 in the pop machine in the communication bldg. I didn't think they would give it back to me as I didn't have the exact dates. The machine is like a wishing well. You put your dollar in and you push the series of numbers that identify your selection and you pray, "Please fall, please fall" you root on the soda. Four times since the semester started I have lost a dollar. One day I saw the pop man and I told him, he gave me a free coke. Since I had the time, I came here to collect my money. Three bucks is three bucks.

There's a man in here whose cell phone rang. Instead of answering it by quietly murmuring a "hello", he answered it like he's in his kitchen with a girl in the livingroom waiting on him to bring in the beers. The phone so he answers halfway between the kitchen and the livingroom. He wants the girl to hear him, to know he's speaking to another girl. I have thought people over react when they complain about people on cell phones and I didn't understand that. But if they are going to be so loud about it...okay, I see their point.

I'm going to go back to the communication bldg. Later.

April 6th, 2005

I must be this hypersenitive person who just can't be happy. I am so annoyed by the big sick snorting co-worker...it makes me nuts. No doubt it must be me. I can handle the coughing and the throat clearing but the "suck the crap into your brain so you can swallow it" just grosses me out. The sad news is, no one else is affected by it enough to complain. Debi says people will have to complain to their supervisors and then their supervisors will have to complain to her. So, first the employee has to be pissed off by it enough to go to their supers and then the supers have to feel it warrants a talk with Debi. Double wammie for me. Not going to happen. Another thing is that this department employees so many people "of substance". How's that for a euphanism? Every time someone walks past my cube it feels like an elephant is walking by. My cube shakes...a lot. I think I get motion sickness. I wrote an email to Lynette about it. Hey, I don't need to make a trip into Bill Duckworth's lap downstairs. The email will help me out in any litigation that may arise when the floor collapses. Lynette said she will have the floor checked out. (Okay...let's see if that happens.)

I need to be hypnotized to not be so sensitive to this. I got to call Gary. Maybe he can do it for me.

Later....

March 18th, 2005

Okay...I'm doing good now.

My "Spring Break" is over now I guess. I did not accomplish all I wanted to do..dang...it was so nice to be off from school. It is going to be intense work from now until the end of the semester. Ewww.....not looking forward to that.

Work was so nice and quiet the past two days as the sick snorting co-worker stayed home to watch NCAA basketball. Oh, I was so spoiled. Debi was off too but she's not noisey...not often. Liz dropped the bombshell...why she and Debi have been in conference more than normal. Liz, much to my dismay, is leaving at the end of the month. She got a better offer...one she couldn't refuse. Gawd, I'm the kiss of death...my good friends, the ones I really connect with, leave me. Ray, Gary, Pam, Joseph, and now Liz. I don't blame her; I just don't like it. Debi must be in agony knowing she has to find a replacement. It will get hairy at work too. It could be interesting. The nice thing about this departure is, Liz understood how important it would be for me to hear it from her before the general population got wind of it. I appreciate her for doing so.

I met Gary for lunch today. He's nice. He's very smart, much more well rounded than me. He knows a lot about a lot. It was nice to see him.

Funny thing for this week: I was wearing earplugs when "snorting co-worker" was in attendance. I discovered if you pitch the plug around the middle of it and push it to one side and lay it on the table...well, it resembles something very funny as it bounces slowly back into shape. Nurse Debbie was laughing her ass off.

Worked out today. Wrote a letter to old boyfriend Dave in Pittsburgh. I wonder if he will respond. Here's the letter...

Dear Dave,

Hi. Surprise! It's me, Eva xxxxx. I thought about writing you for some time now. The thing is, I just can't believe it's been so long…close to twenty-five years since we had any communication. That's a long time to not know how someone you once cared about is doing. Are you happy? I know you married Cheryl; did you have children? Are you still doing accounting? How is your
family? How is Jared? Gosh, he must be close to 30.

There's a country song that goes something like "…. unwritten law, protocol…says to leave the past alone." But I don't know what is wrong with reconnecting on a different level.

I live in Oklahoma. Yeah, I'm an Okie…but not from Muskogee.

Phil and I have been happily married for almost 18 years. We did not have any children (just not in God's plan) but we have nieces and nephews and that is fine.
We have been in OK for seven years. Phil took a job with Hertz. Their data center is here; he's a programmer. I went back to school, at 42 years old, to get my bachelors in Journalism. I'm only going part time so it's taking me a while. I've been working at an insurance company for six years. It's not brain surgery but it pays the bills. I have been freelance writing a bit. (See Okwomanmag.com if you're interested) I hope to get an internship this summer at an ad agency or publication. Life is
good.

I would love to hear from you, just to say "hey." That would be great.

Well, I gotta run. Phil and I meet up at the Y three times a week, after work, to work out. Today's the day. (Rejoice!) Please take care.

Eva

I wrote to the publisher of Metro Family Magazine about an internship. Let's hope something becomes of it.

March 15th, 2005

I will write on my lunch hour now. I need to do more of this.

I mailed out a "brosuresume" w/ a letter to Brainstorm. They are an ad agency in Edmond. I want to intern there this summer. Debi has agreed to let me work 8 hours / per for 10 weeks. It's very nice of her. I can't help but wonder though if she's doing it because she's hoping to get rid of me. There is no benefit to the company to let me intern. Oh silly me. She's just being nice. Anyway, I really like the brosuresume. It outlines my work experience, education and acheivements. Let's see what happens.

Phil is doing really well on his diet. He's down 21 lbs. I don't notice it on him and this upsets him but I can't help it. I just don't see it....well maybe a little....if I squint. He wants to drop 9 more lbs. I have dropped some too but I think I got it all back. We have been good about going to the Y though...3 times /week. We went last night.

Thought for the time between now and the next thought:
"I'm a reasonable person....I will do whatever is needed when faced with the realization I have little choice."

This includes acceptance of a co-worker who hacks up a lung every 90 seconds and then pulls the snot out of his head so he can swallow it. I am lead to believe I have no choice in these matters. He has a medical condition. I should be thankful it's not gas. I wish I had known about this back in my days at Jaeckle when I cried all the time. I could just have told them it's a medical condition (behaviorial but still a medical condition) and it can not be helped.

Something is up w/ Debi and Liz. They have been in conference more than usual and have meet up outside of work too. I don't know. It reminds me of Chari and Lori and Me...the third wheel who got left behind all the time. I liked it better when they were fighting. So many things remind me of how little I have changed. Maybe someday I will find some peace. But not like Josette did.

February 27th, 2005

Josette died last week. They said it was a heart condition; the same thing her husband died of at 40 some years old. Josette was 42. They had two little girls. I still can not believe she is gone. I have not spoken to her in years, but now I know I had relished in the idea that I could if I wanted to. Upon further review, it was determined that it was not a heart condition but Josette's own need to find peace despite the consequences to her children. Jenny said she must not felt she had a choice. So many I have talked to have said they do not understand how she could do this to her children. All I can say, in Josette's defense, is that we do not know that dispare unless we have looked into that darkness and found no way out. I can remember a moment in my life 20 some years ago when I saw the darkness before me but I could not face it; I remember running as fast as I could the other way. It was like a ledge, a high dark ledge that has forever intensified my fear of heights and darkness. I agree with Jenny, Josette felt she had no choice...she got too close to the edge and could not make her way back. They say you will not go to heaven if you do what Josette did. I so hope God makes an exception. She was so sun shiny bright; so happy in her hey day. Please God take her in and embrass her.

February 8, 2005

Hey. I have my left hip on ice. I hope it helps the pain. Well, I also took a loratab (or however you spell it). It should kick in soon. It is almost Wednesday, Ash Wednesday, to be exactly. I have decided to give up phospheric acid...it's the carmel coloring you find in most cokes or brown drinks. It's not good for your bones and I think my back problems are linked to too much coke. I could be doing too much coke....really! I will be drinking more water which is definately a good thing. Phil thinks I will be grumpy so I have to make a conscience effort to not be grumpy too. I told him, "I'm not giving up caffeine." Hopefully I can do it. It just that coke or diet coke is such a treat for me. Oh well. We will see.

School is good. Work is good. I love the structure of work. I look forward to it since I decided to change my attitude. Debi said, "the job is what the job is." and she is right. I'm going to go to work, do my job the best I can and leave. Overtime has been cut. Poor Liz..Debi is piling the work on her so I don't do any OT. She is fnally saying "enough is a enough." I'm glad for that.

January 9th, 2005

Here we are...2005. How weird is this? I can remember when it was 1999 and the new millileim was approaching and everyone was all up in arms over what will happen. Phil had to work on New Years Eve so he could be on guard watching that all went well in the car rental business. Right now it is almost 3am. I am obsessed with sleeping but after having done it a lot today, I find it hard to do. Phil is in bed. I will go there to listen to him snore. It is not a loud snore, not usually, but just heavy breathing that has a sloothing rhythm to it. Scuffy will snore too on the other side of me. I'm writing in a journal more than on line. I found some nice ones at the dolllar store. I love the dollar store. I bought 8 journals. I don't know what I will do with them but I had to have them. I'm working on my novel...rewriting what I have. Oh if dreams really could come true.