Dooce.com

I've been taking time over the past couple of months at the suggestion of a dear friend to read Dooce, come to understand the meaning of being dooced, and what a blogsite can mean for people, like me, who write about work, amongst other things. For everyone who visits me - - please know that I am a person who doesn't fear much of anything. I tell my stories to make people laugh, I feel laughter is the key to living a full life. This post isn't about laughter, though... it's about my life!

If you want funny, select Parking In Rear, The Moneyman, or Bar Beeyatches.

Life is a road of twists and turns, fears and hopes, wins and losses, biting your tongue, and trying to prove (to everyone) you are strong, proud, and not what anyone expectes you to be. In many ways my life is like everyone else's. You can just live it as you go and hope as you are about to pass on wherever we go after this that you can look back and say, "Damn, I lived a full life and I LOVED it!"

In high-school I worked in radio on the weekends. I had crush on an older guy (gushing over him from when I was 13)... he hit on me on my 18th birthday, and we started dating. I moved out on my own after high-school graduation and kept working in media - - full-time in TV, part-time writing for a newspaper, and continued my radio job, all while being a full-time college student in Radio/TV Broadcasting. My 50-hour work weeks brought in $15,500 a year as my total earnings. My relationship with my crush ended when he said our love-life needed some spice and we should try a 3-some with a 17-year-old blonde with huge tits from his Karate class - - I slapped his face and told him he wasn't enough man to keep up with one of me, let alone two of anyone. I was 20. Two months after the break-up I found out I had out I had to have surgery, so I took 2 weeks off work for recovery and spent some time out-of-state with my oldest brother. Bless his heart, my brother pushed me into looking for a work somewhere away from home to change my life.

I got an amazing job offer with an events promotions company and moved across the country. I didn't date for over a year, I bought a house before my 21st birthday, got a new vehicle, got a promotion at my new job, got a raise, got to travel the country, and got to know myself. I became less mousy and more direct, I made a place for myself in the events circuit where I could call people and say my name and they immediately knew who I was and that I was calling to give them an invitation to an exclusive competition. I began dating again... a different guy every night of the weekend for months. A heart-surgeon had me accompany him to exclusive restaurants and parties, a marketing guy took me rock-climbing and hiking, a GM of a huge car dealership took me to concerts with front-row tickets every time, and a mechanic introduced me to the best live bands hidden in the dirtiest bars. The marketing guy and I dated more often than I saw any of the other guys, and a few months later we were officially a "couple" of sorts. A year later, the amazing job started going downhill when the CEO lost $250K on a bad event, my HOA had no money and I had to use all my savings to get my roof repaired, and the guy I was dating was moving out-of-state (we weren't really getting along anymore though).

I visited my mother back home and had some incredible quality time with her that we had missed since I moved, I returned and convinced marketing guy to let me move with him to get me out of the crumbling situation I was in with the company I was working for, I sold my home, gave away most of my belongings, and moved half-way back across the country without a job (to the city I live in now). A week after the move I was offered a management position in retail making $10K more than at my previous job. I began my job training, schedueled moving into my own apartment (since marketing guy and I were no longer dating), and things were looking good.

One morning I got a phone call that my mother had suddenly fallen ill and would not live another 24-hours. I got a flight out that afternoon, and was the first to see my father since he had gotten the news... which was for the best because he was able to cry with me, and he was able to be solid and strong like a granite peak when my brothers arrived in town. My mother lived another 2 days - - and was completely cognitive and able to communicate with all of us. Her lungs had quit absorbing oxygen for whatever reason, and the only way she could stay alive was by being on a respirator. She knew she was dying, and she let us know she wanted off the machine. We were all with her when the respirator was removed, and she hugged us all and let us know she loved us. I was holding her hand when she passed.

I stayed home with my father for a month and finished my job training (thanks to a great boss who had friends everywhere), then I returned to my begin my new job in management in the new town. As a friend, marketing guy had kept in touch as I was away, and had kept my belongings for me so I wouldn't have to pay storage fees. I got into my new apartment as soon as I was back, disconnected myself from everyone, and began drinking every night after work until I would fall asleep. After a few months I forced myself into therapy because I wasn't coping with the loss of my mother, I didn't recognize myself anymore... and one of my employees told me I didn't look healthy and needed to get out more. Three more months pass, my employee invites me to meet his friends a few times but I decline due to company policies, then Christmas comes around. Marketing guy calls and invites me to spend the holiday with his family so I won't be alone. New Year's comes and goes, I drink an entire bottle of wine to celebrate by myself.

It's 2003, January 5th I get a call at 8 AM from my employee telling my I have to meet his friends. I decline. He calls a hour later, and says if I don't come along there won't be enough people to play the games they had in mind. I drag my ass out of bed and go meet up with my employee. A group of guys is hanging out at a nice little house on the other side of town... and I was the only girl there. The day passes and we have fun hanging out, and later in the evening the guy who owns the house comes home and everything stops. Tall, dark, & handsome - HELLO! I memorize his phone number as he is giving it to my employee before we all leave. Two days later I call Mr. Good-Looking, and we talk for a few hours. Every night for a week we are on the phone together for 2-6 hours a night, just talking. I finally ask him to meet me for dinner so we can talk face-to-face again. We meet up to eat, and talk at the restaurant for 4 hours. I invite him back to my apartment (a big no-no in my rulebook until you know he's not a serial killer). We watch Monte Python, we play HALO, we talk until 5 in the morning. I tell him he can stay and sleep on my bed, but threaten that if he touches me I'll shoot him with the hand gun under my pillow (amazingly he's not scared off). We sleep a couple hours, he wakes up and calls in sick to work, then we start talking again... and talk until 7 in the evening when he realizes he has to go home. He said to me, "This is everything I've ever wanted. I think this is it." I reply, "We're soul mates!" He says, "We certainly are."

Four months later we were married, and he truly is the love of my life... faithful, understanding, patient, kind, gentle, stubborn, brilliant, funny, goofy, sweet, and snugglable to name a few. The journey has been a long one, but without the twists it's taken I would have never met the amazing guy I get to call Hubby.

Parking In Rear

Another great story... which I really need to get blogged before I forget all the details.

From previous posts, you can tell there are many unique qualities and advantages to working in the company I work in, another of which is if you have kids and school is closed, your kid is sick, or it's summertime - - you can pretty much haul in your kidlet and camp them in a conference room with some cartoons for the duration of the day. The downside of this is that kids tend to wander, sick or not, when they get bored - - and they will chatter your ear off until you go bonkers and come up with tasks like sending them to find a color of paper that is nowhere in the building. Now a woman I shall nickname Raspberry Beret - A woman who has made her way through the ranks by flirting, flaunting, and sleeping with various members of the industry she is in. Everyone knows it. Even before returning to her most recent position (no pun intended) her own manager said she has her "special" way of working with men. All the above things in mind, Raspberry Beret brought in one of her midgets that was sick, and did the aforementioned "camping of the kid in the conference room". The kid eventually began to wander around in the afternoon, and started talking to different co-workers becuase the poor kid was bored. Upon getting into a conversation with an account manager, the child said, "You know, my mommy is so silly! She had a friend over last night and I heard her in her room laughing, and giggling, and she kept saying 'Put it in my butt'. She's such a silly mommy!" It didn't take but five minutes for the story to burn through the building like wildfire...

Oh, my poor child, you will feel so tortured when you discover what that actually means. And Rosie, tell Josh I highly recommend he change his catch phrase from "EEEEE-MMMMAAAAIIILLLL" to "Put It In My Butt" - - I think it will suit him much better. ;-)

Shinie Things

So, not my entire life revolves around Advertising & MMPORGs... My true passion in life is faceting. I take ugly, lumpy rocks and facet them into gems for rings, earrings, necklaces, and everything else that can involve stones. Now don't get all excited! My home isn't full of diamonds, rubies, and sapphires - - I do this as a 2nd job, and I primarily focus on doing repair work for my clients. Precious gems are too damn expensive for me to invest in a collection of pricey stuff (you need a certification to cut diamonds anyway - and I don't have one).

My life is full of color, and I love to facet colored gems. I think my favorite type of stone in the world would be tourmaline. The stones come in over 100 different colors, some for with 2 and 3 colors in one shaft, and they are very friendly to cut (polish easily, reveal amazing colors, hearty stone for any setting). My preference is to facet harder gems like amethyst, aquamarine, and citrine (all types of quartz), sapphires, tourmalines, and topaz.

The most difficult stones are soft gems like sunstones, tanzanites and apatites - - people will often set them in rings where they are bumped and knocked around until the top of the stone is demolished, upon which it is sent to me to repair. Not only is it a challenge to not remove too much of the stone, but once the facets are re-cut, applying a glossy polish to soft stones can often make me want to pull out my hair! If you are going to buy a setting for a softer stone... be sure to make it either earrings or a necklace, as a ring setting will be costly in the future to maintain the stone.

The way faceting works is very similar to sanding a wooden board to make it smooth. It starts with attaching a stone to a metal stick which mounts into a device that measures your cutting angles. You put pressure on the stone at certain angles, initially against a rough grit on a rotating wheel, and then gradually apply pressure to the angles with finer grits until you achieve a polish. The entire process is very mathematical, and stones must be faceted at precise angles on the bottom (pavilion) and top (crown) to provide the most shine and sparkle possible for the type of stone being cut. Facets work like tiny mirrors within a stone, and if they do not compliment each other the stone with have places where light drops through and you see dark spots inside.

If you are shopping for an engagement ring or gift of jewelry for someone, feel free to ask any questions in my blog. I'm not a seller of anything, so I'll be sure to give you a no bull-shit response... and can help you make a wise jewelry investment that can be cherished in the future.

Halloween drunken stupor... notice all but maybe 3 people in the picture are holding drinks. We had a total of 38 people in attendance for 2005.

Bar Beeyatches

I enjoy the occasional drink. I try to not get completely drunk out of my wits but once a year... and I usually reserve that for our Annual Halloween Costume Party (nothing better than being drunk in an outfit you will never wear again... see picture above). My friends and I have a tradition of going to a local Irish Pub at least once a month for song night... Irish Pub + Song Night + Drinks = Very Happy Me. The thing I love about this place is the more you go, the more you learn the songs, the more you get to know the people who work there, and the more it feels like Drunken Irish Family Night back home. Our group of friends has been frequenting this place more than usual lately because it's getting closer to the all important St. Patrick's Day, and we really need all the practice we can get.

There's nothing unusual about going to this Pub and having people dance a jig, play a game of cards or dominos, or pound on the old wooden tables until glasses rattle off the edge and clamor onto the floor. It really isn't even unusual to see drunken women scream out a song title at the top of their lungs to try to get the attention of the lead singer so that he will play the songs they want to hear. What is unusual is a group of belligerently, disgustingly drunk women repeatedly screaming out songs in an intelligible manner that no one understands (not even my entire group of friends sitting directly in front of them).

The dialogue goes something like this:
"THAOLDUMPHOWSOGPLEEEEEEZE" ("The Ole Dun Cow Song PLEASE")
"WEWANUHEEAHSZOTTYZKEWIT" ("We wanna hear Scotsman's Kilt")
"PLAYDAHWIOWDOVER" ("Play the Wild Rover")
"GERWABBERZINMEMERDBIN" (***I have no idea)

I have very little patience for behavior like this... mostly because if you can't speak, you shouldn't. Even when I get REALLY drunk, I will do no more than say, "I ought to stop drinking" then grab some random person's ass and call it a night. So I took vocalizing (a.k.a. shouting in an understandable fashion) after the wenches would scream. Sometimes I tried to translate what they were saying, and if I couldn't understand I'd shout "COCKA-DOODLE-DOO!" or "DRUNK CHICKS ROCK". At one point one of them said, "Hey, youknowurmakinfunofus?" "No! Not at all! I'm just trying to make sure the singer can hear you since we're sitting closer to him" "Oh, wellthnksthen! Yourereallysweetgal." Oh believe me, I know. By the end of the evening it was a running joke between the singer, me, and all the non-plastered people in the bar. I half expected to have a few of the Drunken Beeyatch Posse waiting for me outside, but as I left with my friends I got a few handshakes and beer glass salutes for a job well done.

Sleepy Dog

Here's the pup... snoozing on our sleeping bag which she has recently decided to claim for her self. No one would ever accuse us of spoiling her though, judging by this picture she is surely abused!

Still More Stoopid People

I love visiting websites, and last week found it to be intereseting that MSN had posted a link on their homepage to multiple Blogs of people like "Catholic Mom" "Asian Dude" and "Fear and Loathing in My Butt". Now there really wasn't anything of particular interest on any of these sites that would lead me to much of anything except some little twit of a kid posted to "Catholic Mom" - - "i'm a asthestit. do u hate me now? LOL B*tch" Now let's review:
1) This child can't spell.
2) This child has very bad grammar.
3) This child has issues with Catholic people.
4) This child desires to be hated by other people.

I couldn't help but wonder what kind of childhood of neglect had driven this poor kid to type anything like that on a website titled "Catholic Mom". I don't remember much about the woman's blogsite except she talked about her family and planning some vacation... More than anything the site gushed of ooey-gooey family love and more love - - a bit much for me, but her site is honest enough in that she is simply typing for the sake of getting her thoughts out there. The comment by some jack-ass kid being an Asthestit (a boob perhaps?) without me commenting to his blog-site (which is nothing more than his favorite songs transcribed and miscellaneous yet pointless comments)... my response to him was as follows: "Wow. Saw your comment through MSN today. Are you like 12? I must say I'm very impressed you even know how to type. You'll come to learn what evil truly is when you get out of mommy's basement and have to get a job, idiot." To which this scrawny adolescent has created a GIANORMOUS post IN HONOR OF ME! I feel so special!!! Apparently I struck a chord with his little heart strings... He wrote to me asking me to not post on his blogsite anymore, and he said if I did he'd steal my credit card information (oh no!). BooHoo! What else am I going to post a comment on? His great misspellings and typos on his song transcription? Like I really give a crap.

ANYWAYS... as I was driving home last night there was a guy following right on my ass in a little wanna-be car with his music blaring so loud I could hear it at 55 MPH in my truck. I stuck to my speed (about 5 over the limit anyway) knowing cops have been out in full force along my main route home over the past few days. The guy in the car finally decided speeding my way wasn't his style, so he flew around me, and right into a speed trap. Police car lights started flashing, the cop went flying around me, and a short ways up the road the bumper-hugger had been pulled over. It made me giggle with delight!

Ahhhh, Scientology & Muslims!!!

This is the kind of good stuff I look for on the internet...

http://www.scientology.org/
http://www.xenu.net/

I love seeking out truth and understanding in the world. With all the hype about famous folks involved in Scientology, I decided to look into it to find out about all the hubub. One thing can be said about the scientologist official site... they have put a hell of a lot more money into it (all of their "nominal fees") than the anti-Scientology guy (just his time & pocket change). Yay!!!

I have spent a great deal of time looking into alternative religions, not really because I have an interest in joining (I'm not really much of a joiner unless you're buying the drinks), but I do have this unquenchable desire for knowing all I can about anything. To show you something cool I found - - take a look at these links about the "Cornerstone" of Muslim religion. When Muslims bow to worship every day they are praying towards the Kaaba (big black block building, say that 3 times fast)... and more specifically the stone (thought to be a meteorite) built into the corner of the building:

http://mb-soft.com/believe/txh/kaaba.htm
http://www.toursaudiarabia.com/kaaba.html

The second link features photos of the "non-idolitrized" Kabba Stone. Interesting and cool stuff.

More About My Personal Life...

So my husband and I bought a new house in 2005. We put money down in January, and then moved in when the home was completed in July. It is truly the home of our dreams. We picked all the colors inside & out - - from the rich beige walls and sage textured carpet, to the deep red exterior with multi-colored bricks. I love our home, and it feels more like my HOME to me than anywhere I've lived since my family home.

We were so happy to sell our house in our old neighborhood... 1st time home-buyers houses (i.e. cheap and very small), which worked perfectly for newlyweds with no responsibilty besides a few pets. Unfortunately, we had many neighbors who moved straight from the trailer parks they grew up in to our little corner of the world. For your minds eye, each house had a 1 car garage (besides us and another couple down the street who splurged on the 2-car upgrade), each house had white-ish vinyl siding, all were the same basic exterior design, and each house had a small front yard with a patch of grass next to the street. Quaint and cozy.

We had one neighbor directly across the street who found it necessary to park his oil-leaking shit-pile of a truck on his "lawn" (a.k.a. patch of dead grass he was too lazy to maintain) because he did not splurge on the 2-car garage with a wider driveway. His garage was a work shop for his Harley that he never could figure out how to fix, and his wife would park 1/2 on the sidewalk & 1/2 on the patch of grass next to the street. They were a drunken, angry couple who had a child they never kept track of (shot at houses with his BB Gun, vandalized vehicles in broad daylight, pissed on the mailboxes), and found it necessary to yell at us for having a green lawn our front and back yards after they received a citation from the city for their fire hazard 18" tall weeds in their front & back yard. Fun people.

There was also the sleazy whore next door (divorced 30-somthing), who on several occassions came over to our house (braless in rather revealing outfits) when my truck was not in the driveway (either I was gone or had parked in the garage). The first time she came over it was rather late at night... the doorbell had rang and my husband answered the door. I heard a woman's voice say "My computer just crashed and I'm writing a term paper and I can't get it running again." My husband, still in his work clothes, told me he'd be right back... it was as I walked him to the door I noticed she was in a bathrom. I figuered no big deal, right? He was back in 2 minutes... "She's not so bright. She just needed to reboot her computer. That was weird." There was another occassion that as I came home from work (when I still worked retail) my husband was blocking her off at our front door. She was in flannel PJs this time, asking about recovering a file from a floppy disc. I came in through the garage door after parking, and heard the tail-end of a conversation from my husband saying, "If you're getting a disc error that says that it means you never had files on the disc. Maybe look through other discs to see if you accidentally saved it somewhere else." Good hubby. He wouldn't offer her more help than that. The next time she came over... I left to go the grocery store, and her mother waved as I backed out of the driveway then ran back to her daughter's house as I drove away. Ten minutes later I return home with the soda and chips, and there SHE is... on my front porch in Daisy Duke shorts and a lace-trimmed tank top giggling at MY husband. I get out of my truck, walk up to the front door and she says, "Oh! I thought you were gone to work! I just came over to ask for some help on my computer if your man has a few minutes..." Not sure of what all had been said, I stepped in between her & him, up into MY doorway, turned around and said, "He's unavailable because he has a date with his WIFE tonight." She said, "Aw, it'll only be a couple minutes... surely you can let him out of your sight for a few minutes." I responded, "George across the street owns a computer repair store and it looks like he's home. We really have to get to our date night though." She pouted a moment and realized I wasn't going to budge so she left. I never did see her go over to George's. My husband and I had a lengthy discussion about her, and he told me she had started calling his cell phone (which was noted on our home phone answering machine), asking him to meet her for lunch or trying to set up computer repair time. He never answers calls from numbers he doesn't know, so he had me listen to her voice messages. She was making us both uncomfortable... and more importantly, making me angry. In my wisdom I decided it was time to take things into my own hands. The following week I had a Wednesday off, so my husband took my truck to work. About 2 in the afternoon, she rings the doorbell in a sun dress that was near-sheer. I open the door. She looks surprised (big surprise). "Is your husband home?" "No." "Where is he?" "At work." "Oh, can you have him come help me with my computer later?" "What do you need help with? I'm quite a computer saavy person myself." "Oh, really? Um, well, you know I think I can probably figure it out, but I thought..." I have to interrupt. "You thought that since my car isn't home you can come over and act like a home-wrecker, right? I do not ever, EVER want you to come by MY home for help of any kind ever again. Do you understand?" "I think you're mistaken." "You think my husband and I don't talk? You think I don't know about the phone calls? You think if you keep coming over one day you too can have have a happy marriage like mine? He's taken and has no interest in you. And if you try coming over again, even if you think I'm not here, you WILL be answering to me, and I WILL kick your ass."

I felt like a lioness claiming her territory. I became the Alpha-Female. Whether she felt frightened or called out, I don't really care. Her house was up for sale the next week.

We continued living in the neighborhood for 6 months, the phone calls from the whore completely stopped, and things were great but... we were now talking about a starting a family, and the house kept feeling smaller, so we had our new home built. There are plenty of frightening people in our new neighborhood, but that's information for another day.

Back on the homestead

Well, I wish I could go on about the fascinating journeys that are my life, but most of the good stories I have are about the freaks I work with and their soap operas... I figure anyone who visits my site doesn't really want to hear about the lives of people they don't know.

So this week I hurt my back at work, I've been dog-tired, and don't really have any interesting happening that doesn't have to do with work... so "Hi" to anyone who comes here!!!