Dear Job Fairy

Please send work. I'm out of lotion.

Love,
Tink

P.S. I'll admit, I wasn't as stingy with my nest egg as I could have been. But who knew I was going to be out of work this long! As I sat in front of the computer yesterday, looking at my bank account and saying a bunch of expletives, I realized I had to do something (crazy). Otherwise I was going to start hitting into our "ABSOLUTE EMERGENCY!" money. That's the money I set aside in case Hoop or I ever ended up in jail or the hospital. It would be my luck that the moment I spent the money, one or both of those situations would happen. Hopefully unrelated!

Ugh. There are totally too many !s in this letter already. I don't want you to think that me running out of money means I can't eat. I can eat. I just can't eat expensive things like sushi, or steak, or anything that isn't on sale or B1G1 Free. Capeesh? Unemployment pays for 97% of my bills (thank God). So the worst thing that's going to happen by me running out of money is that my hair wont get done and my legs will start peeling (adding water to lotion only lasts so long) and I won't be able to go anywhere because my car will be out of gas and it's over 100 degrees outside.

It's enough to get a girl down. Last week I had to buy two weeks worth of groceries on $80. But I did it! I was so proud of myself that I bragged to the checkout lady, who didn't care one iota. This morning I realized that my littlest brother is turning 15 next Saturday. The thought of having to give him a crappy homemade birthday card that says "I'm sorry I suck. But I love you!" made my stomach sick. So I did something crazy. I gathered up all the jewelry my ex ever gave me and I sold it. I got $100 for it all. They even pulled out the gemstones for me to keep.

I thought I'd be sad. But I wasn't. I felt triumphant. And maybe a little liberated. I took a problem and I found a solution for it. I didn't have to borrow, beg or steal. I didn't cry and I didn't have a pity party. After pulling out the money for my brother, I went out and bought myself a bottle of wine... on discount, of course. I don't know what I'll do when this money runs out. I'm out of jewelry and Hoop isn't going to restock me ;). But maybe I'll have work by then. Are you listening, Job Fairy? That was a hint!

Have a wonderful weekend Homebloys.

I'll think of you over a glass of wine.

Weekly Words Challenge 85!

The words for this week were K and Metal.

How did you interpret them?

K for Keys




Old School K

Can you guess what old school package this K is on?

Metal
These were both in someone's yard.



(Other Random Photos)

Nuclear Cows


If you haven't joined the fun yet, go here for details. We also have a Flickr group for easy shareability. Not only do you get to add "Lowly Foon" to your resume, but you get to find out the new words at least an hour earlier. Happy snapping!

The words for next week are:
T
and
Not What They Seem

In Other News:
Hoop has turned into a computer zombie. He spent nine hours on our computer yesterday. The only time I spend nine hours on a computer is if 1. I am getting paid to or 2. the fate of the world requires it. Either way, I'm not going to be happy about it. When I finally got him off of it, sometime around midnight, he annoyed the bejebus out of me by staging a slow-motion fight with the dog in the office. When I asked him to stop he told me, "The dog started it!" It's been raining for three days straight. I think we might be getting cabin fever. Please send sun.

More tomorrow....

Also Tomorrow: I Heart Etsy!

Rules To Blog By

A real life friend, and part-time lurker, has decided to open his own blog- The Beer Geek. Feel free to stop by and haze him. As the bored good Blogger that I am, I have decided to compile a list of Blogging rules to help him and other noobs out. Feel free to join in on that too.

1. Never start a post with an apology for the stupid post ahead...
2. ...or the words "I have nothing to say" followed by details.
3. Great opening lines include the words booger, dinosaur, Chuck Norris, waffle and pseudopseudohypoparathyroidism.
4. Blogging requires no educational background (obviously)...
5. ...but it helps if you can at least site your sources.
6. Unless you have multiple personalities, you should limit yourself to no more than two blogs.
7. Having five blogs: one for what you ate, what movies you saw, what pictures you took, what you did on Monday and what strange materials you pulled out of your cat's hairballs is too much.
8. TALKING IN ALL CAPS SHOULD BE RESERVED FOR SHOUTING...
9. ...AND DOUCHEBAGS.
10. Nothing is private on the Internet. Nothing.
11. If you don't believe me, go ahead and post your social security number.
12. Don't write about anything that could get you fired, that you don't want your Mother or Lover to know, or that could possibly pin you to that Big Boy vandalism of '92.
13. I swear I don't know who drew a penis on that statue!
14. For the love of Jebus, please use spell chek.
15. When in doubt, list it out.

Black December

Back when I worked in retail, there were two words that were completely taboo to say. When spoken, these two words could chill the blood of every retail employee in earshot instantly. Those two words were... BLACK FRIDAY. To this day, hearing that phrase makes me shudder inwardly. Crazy things happen on Black Friday, unspeakable things. It's the one day a year that sweet old women can transform into vicious hand-slapping, discount-grabbing, monsters from Hell and no one will hold them accountable. Although maybe they should!

I once witnessed a lady beat her friend over the head with a handbag because she thought she was going to grab the same pair of shoes as her. Other years were marked by shoe throwing, shoe shoving, and shoe stealing. As you might have guessed, I worked in a shoe store. At the end of the day, a large group of mall employees would meet out back for a cigarette and to share "war" stories. It was horrible. Fortunately, the madness only lasted for one day. Although the mess lasted for seven. I was glad to leave Black Friday behind the day I left retail.

Little did I know, there was a beer industry equivalent, and this one lasts for 31 days! December is, by far, the worst month to work beer. Most people think it's July, but it's not. On top of Christmas and New Years, there are all the in between parties. It's the end of the year, the end of the month, and the end of a Quarter. More employees (mostly upper management) are on vacation. Traffic is worse. All these factors bunch up to make one long stretch of never-ending work. No matter how much sleep I get (or coffee I drink), I still get home ready to crash out.

So if I've been quiet lately, you know why. It's not because I don't care.

It's because every second of free time I have is being used to plot ways to sneak into the beer vat.

Pshhhhh.

That's the sound my head makes before exploding.

I had a nice long post in mind for today. Then I got sucked into a two hour meeting with no signs of stopping... or coffee. Who the hell throws a two hour meeting without coffee? Before all that was the weekend, during which my computer went "thbt" and I went "Noooooooo!" This was followed by Hoop staying up for six hours last night saving all our documents so he could reload Windows. I was so nervous that I was going to lose everything, I dreamt I chewed my fingers off. Chewed. Them. OFF. So, if you're wondering about my honeymoon update (now three weeks late), it's coming. Just not today.

Daily Hoop Conversation:
(On the phone.)
Tink: Are you out of the doctor's office yet?
Hoop: Yup.
Tink: So, they took your blood-
Hoop: -and gave me a Tetanus shot.
Tink: Did they tell you anything?
Hoop: They said I was a superior human being.

Tomorrow: The WWC!

How was your weekend?

Pre-wedding Freak-out

I went into the hair salon two days ago to get my highlights touched up and came out a dark brunette. The woman said she had to even things out. I thought she meant with lowlights. I went in the next day to see if they could at least add some highlights back in. They gave me orange streaks. I AM NOT A HAPPY BRIDE. I have an emergency appointment at my Grandmother's (reputable) salon this afternoon to see if they can make me beautiful again. Pray my hair doesn't fall out.

After that, I have to get my nails done and then I have to run home to finish place cards. Tomorrow I'm working and then meeting up with two girlfriends, also Bloggers (Guess who!), for much deserved drinks. Friday is more work, followed by the rehearsal. Then Hoop and I have to split ways until the big day... SATURDAY. Holy shit, I'm getting married on Saturday! When did that happen? Didn't we just get engaged? I've lost five pounds in the last seven days. Did you know that getting married was the perfect weight loss regimen?

I wouldn't recommend this for the faint of heart though... or the faint of wallet. This is hands-down the most expensive five pounds I've ever lost. I'm hoping to gain it all back with cake. Mmmmm, cake. I'm not going to be on much for the rest of this week, if at all. Please don't take my silence as a sign that I don't love you. I'm just afraid to open my mouth, lest I start screaming and never stop. Just know that you all are in my thoughts, and please, let my hair be in yours. I'll try and pop on before the wedding to let you know that everything is OK and that I haven't run away.

Until then, have fun, be safe, and don't you dare touch the beer in the fridge.

Much Love,
TINK

Then God said, "Let her be sick on top of everything else!"

And Tink replied, "Gee, thanks."

What started out as a sore throat last Monday, quickly evolved into a vicious head cold by Friday. For three days, one side of my face has been screwed up into what can only be described as a precursor to a sneeze. Only, sneezing doesn't make it go away. It just switches sides. When I'm not sneezing, I'm alternating between being stuffy and being runny. Sometimes, my nose manages to do both. I'm convinced the snot is eating my brain from the inside, which would explain the freak headaches. Sometimes, just for the hell of it, my body will get to coughing too. But only if I'm on the phone or in a place where noise is not appreciated, like at a CPR and First Aid Class put on by the WELLNESS committee at work.

Ever tried to not snot on a dummy you're "rescuing" while nine pairs of eyes watch you? Not fun. I held my breath for so long, I was afraid I might pass out and be the next one who needed rescuing. The worst part about that day was not the two hour drive, the four hour class, or the head cold. It wasn't even the fact that two people skipped out on us or that one of those people had the only key into the building. No... It was the fact that I was doing it all for FREE. My boss had told everyone that it was optional. But to me, he had implied that it was mandatory. Being the sucker good employee that I am, I had agreed willingly to this early Saturday morning torture. I even got up early to vote! Unfortunately, everyone else in my city had the same idea.

When I got to the polling place, three minutes before they opened, there was a line wrapped around the building. Isn't the point of early voting to avoid the crowds? Hoop and I ended up going that afternoon instead. By then the line was much shorter and the people working the booths were hopped up on blood thinners or something. During the ten minutes I stood in line, I heard the old lady at the front door say, "I don't care who people vote for, just that they vote!" fifteen times. By the tenth time, I was mumbling "Liar" after each cheery outburst. Sunday, Hoop and I cleaned house for six and a half hours. It might have been overdo, but it was still madness. See what having house guests does to an already frazzled bride with a head cold?

UGH. I just bit into an apple and got stuck! I was too weak to pull my teeth out. On my behalf, it was an organic apple. Who knew piping chemicals into our food changed the consistency as well as the flavor? These things taste amazing and are hard enough to cause a concussion if thrown. Not that I would know... I may never go back to eating regular produce again. So, to wrap up this medicine induced ramble, I didn't finish the haunted house this weekend. But, Hoop and I did clean out the garage and all the supplies are laid out and ready to go. Thanks again for all your awesome ideas and links. Pictures will be posted soon. I'm not sure I can say as much for tomorrow's WWC entry. We'll see. Pray for the snot monsters to go away.

So, what did YOU do this weekend?

Movers, Shakers, and Ballbreakers

This morning I watched a teenage girl plow into a family of baby ducks I had just slowed down to let pass. Then she flicked me off. I cried rivers through my make-up all the way to work. When I finally got in, I hid in my office for an hour, not bothering to turn on the lights. My boss and his cohorts discussed politics on the other side of my door. Their voices carried through the vents like a loud speaker. "I think the government needs to stay out of things," my boss said to his audience. "Like Katrina. The government shouldn't have been helping those people."

I hissed air through my teeth, waiting for someone to disagree. But the silence, followed by a change in subject, told me that the cowards had all nodded their heads in agreement. "Those people", as if they weren't our people. Disgusting. I was standing in the checkout line of the grocery store two nights ago when a man carrying a case of beer came up behind my full cart. "Go ahead," I had told him, motioning for the conveyor belt. He took the spot without so much as a thank you. It made me think of all the doors I've held and cars I've let in lately without so much as a nod in return. Maybe these really aren't my people.

It feels like there's a Chinese fire drill going on in my head. All these thoughts are racing around, racing around, waiting for their chance at the driver's seat. "I'm too weak." "This is what I have to become to survive." "You're either a mover, a shaker, or a ballbreaker." I told Hoop on the phone this morning that I hate people. "You don't hate me," he said. "You don't hate your Mom." Leave it to Hoop to poke a hole in my generalization. "So I don't hate people. I just hate MOST people." I don't hate Jon Stewart... J.K. Rowling... the Dalai Lama. And for the record, I don't hate any of you.

There's a definite deficiency in the human condition though. Somewhere along the years we lost chivalry, followed soon after by compassion and morality. In an effort to be individuals, we lost the ability to be united. How do we fix that? Is it like a pendulum? Will it swing back? I'm not depressed. But thank you, to those who were concerned yesterday. I'm tired. I'm disappointed. I'm grieving over the loss of something I foolishly thought still existed. Every day I was being assaulted by it and I didn't even realize... This world is beating the optimism right out of me.

I need you to do something for me this weekend, OK? I don't ask for things very often. What I need is to hear about an act of chivalry, a conscious effort that caused you to go out of your way for someone else this weekend. I need to know that there's still hope. I'm going to do it to. Then I'm going to post about it on Monday. Leave your good deed(s) in the comment section of that post, or write a post of your own and leave us a link. It doesn't have to be something huge. Any small deed will do. Maybe if we put enough good juju out there it'll- I don't know, catch?

So pay it forward Homebloys, and have a wonderful and safe weekend!

Waterlogged

Whoever named Florida the "Sunshine State", never lived here during hurricane season. Which, for all you Yankees, is from June 1st through November 30th. That's six months out of the year! Boomerang Fay, or Fickle Fay as some have called her, dropped about 1 inch of rain per HOUR in Jacksonville. In fact, today was the first day in a week that we saw sun. I squinted out the door at lunch and asked the receptionist, "What is this strange feeling I'm getting in my eyes?" "I believe what you're feeling is called sunshine," she replied. Then the sky cracked open and rained on my parade.

While I was sitting on my ass watching the BBC on Friday, Hoop was working on beach side. You know, the worst freakin' place to be during a tropical storm. It wasn't until there were several tornado warnings reported in the area that his boss let them go home. Even then, it was against the corporate office's wishes. Corporate wanted them to stay and work. Because, according to them, the workers were just as safe there as anywhere else. What the hell is wrong with America? Once Hoop got back, we busied ourselves with a few rounds of Wii bowling... and completely missed the warning of a tornado in our own area.

About a mile from our house is a river called Black Creek. I'm guessing it was just a wee river when it was named. I used to envy all the expensive houses on the water, with their elaborate docks and pricey boats. I don't anymore. Some of those people might have to LIVE on their boats when this is through. Hoop and I took a drive down there yesterday. One out of every five houses has a "For Sale" sign in the yard. Yeah... Good-luck with that, buddy. Anyone want some rain? I have tons, cheap. In fact, I'll pay you to take it all off my hands. How can you refuse such a deal?

Inquiring Minds Want To Know:
I got the chocolate covered sunflower seeds from Fiwa, who I believe got them from World Market. The Skullcandy earbuds came from Target. They were available in all kinds of hot colors, including Rasta! I highly recommend them. They're super comfy as well as cute.

How was your weekend? Dryer, I hope.

This Blows... Literally.

Meet Boomerang Fay.

She's that red blob hugging Florida.

Fay's a bitch. She can't make up her mind where she wants to go. Which is precisely why I'm at work today. If I don't get to leave soon, I may not be able to go home at all. They're talking about closing the bridges down. Hoop and I both have to take a bridge to get home. *Sigh* Does anyone have a boat? Or a large raft? My boss has been in meetings all morning with the other managers about who should stay and who should go home. So basically, he's weighing which of us he's willing to lose.

I'm still here. So, I think you all know where I stand on the totem pole.

You probably think I'm the hippo. I'm not.

I'm the ant holding up the hippo.

Well, I should probably post this. Our power keeps flickering in and out. I hope all you fellow Floridians are safe. Living in Florida is crazy, no? Canada is looking better and better. Hey Canucks (which I say with the utmost love and respect), you might have me sold on the idea yet! To everyone else, I'll see you on the flip side.

Return Of The Weekend Recap

Weekend Recap:
1. Yesterday was Chore Day. I worked on the house while Hoop begrudgingly mowed the lawn.
2. Sometime around three it started to storm.
3. I went to the back door to check on Hoop. I found him standing in the middle of the yard, open mouthed, as the rain poured down.
4. He smiled when I stepped out on the covered porch. "Could you bring me some soap and shampoo?" "Seriously?" "Yeah." "Ok."
5. I came back out to find him naked.
6. "This is the most exhilarating thing I've ever done!" He yelled, ducking his head under the mini-waterfall our eaves made.
7. I've come to the conclusion that weddings make people lose their minds.
8. Friday, Hoop's Mom asked if she could have some blank wedding invitations just in case she decides to invite her coworkers.
9. So now we're just passing these things out like Valentines?
10. I don't fucking think so.
11. Saturday evening, Hoop and I received our first wedding present... a Wii!
12. Actually, we bought it ourselves. But it was under my Mom's instructions, as she's the one who is going to be paying us back for it.
13. My Mom, the health nut, swears by it. Papa Bear lost five pounds playing with theirs.
14. Crap. I just realized I forgot to do the good-bye month post for July! I'll get to it sometime this week.
15. Friday night -Oof, this is all out of order- Hoop and I took my two younger brothers and their friend Lance to see "Star Wars: The Clone Wars."
16. Lance wore a Darth Vader helmet.
17. Lil Bit wore a sombrero.
18. I'm not claiming it made sense.
19. On the way into the mall, a police officer yelled at Lance to take off the "mask". We tried to explain that it was a helmet and he was only wearing it in support of the movie, but the cop would have none of it.
20. Reason #982 why I don't like the police...
21. The movie was lame. It felt like one big advertisement for the cartoon coming out this fall. But I didn't care. The boys made it well worth the money.

So, what did you do this weekend?

Suzy Homewrecker

I woke up this morning in a funk. Hoop was still sleeping when I stumbled out of the shower to look for clothes. After wading through piles of dirty ones, I finally found the unfolded stack Hoop had washed the night before. I had been slaving away over the stove at the time, too busy to supervise. Had I known he was only going to wash the clothes I'd already worn for the week, I might have been able to salvage my morning. But I hadn't, and here I was, faced with a dilemma. Do I wear the outfit I wore on Monday or mix-and-match and hope no one notices?

"FUCK!" I yelled, kicking at the nearest pile of dirty clothes. For a moment my inner kid popped through and shouted, "Wheeeeee!" So I kicked another... and another. Then I upended the large basket of unfolded clean clothes. Then I kicked the dryer for good measure. I was just starting to feel better when Hoop ran out of the bedroom, rubbing his eyes. "Whasgoinon?" "I want a part time job," I told him. "Oh-Kay," He mumbled. "I'm serious. I can't keep up with all this shit AND a full time job AND plan a wedding AND cook dinner every night."

Hoop opened his eyes a little wider. "So you want to be a part time house wife?" "Yes!" Then I thought, "Oh my God. Did I really just say that? I DID! Holy shit, I meant it. That's it, I'm brainwashed. Those fuckers at the life improvement center really did it. They turned me into Suzy Homemaker. Now I'm going to start talking like I belong in Stepford. I might as well go buy an entire set of aprons with Monday through Friday stitched on them." "It'll be OK, baby." Hoop rubbed my arm lovingly. "You keep getting ready and I'll go find you an outfit to wear." So it's true... They got Hoop too.

Dun, dun, duuuuuuun.

P.S. Sorry I haven't been around to everyone's blog to comment this week. Things have been crazy around here. I'll be sure to stop by soon! For those of you waiting on your contest winnings, I'm running a little behind. Are you seriously surprised? But the good thing (for you) is, I keeping adding more stuff to it the longer I wait to go the post office. They'll be shipped in the next couple of days. Much love, Homebloys.

Suspended Animation

There's a blank spot in my brain where positive thoughts should be.

I've been prodding it for awhile, waiting to see what stimulates it.

So far, nothing.

It seems to be effecting the rest of my brain too. I haven't cleaned the house in a month. I know, ew. We've been doing laundry on a need-to basis. Groceries? Pfft. I've been eating soup for three straight days. I come home and literally wander around. It's not that there isn't a million things to do, some fun (like reading) and some not (like mowing). I just can't find the motivation to DO them. I decided to walk the dog yesterday... the fat one. She started pulling me toward home after five minutes. I was like, "No. We're doing this, damn it!" I expected to feel something afterward. Lord knows the dog did. But I didn't feel anything. I didn't feel rejuvenated or tired or even accomplished.

There are so many things wrong right now... in my life, in the world. I get hung up on all the problems and I just stop moving. Like maybe if I stay real still they'll forget I'm here. Hoop and I have been on a losing streak for about two years now. If it's not house troubles it's car troubles. If it's not financial problems it's emotional ones. For awhile I seriously wondered if I was bad luck. "Or maybe it's Hoop. Or maybe it's us." But now I'm starting to think that the world is generally a little fucked. I woke up yesterday morning and decided I was going to move forward, finally. I was going to use my optimism as my shield, deflecting bad juju as I went.

The day started off fine. Then the work started piling up. The phone wouldn't stop ringing. My boss had the nerve to ask me what I "do for this company, exactly". All of a sudden I couldn't find my shield. Where was is?! *Panic* Did it get buried under this rising pile of shit? Then I came home and tasted smoke on Hoop's lips. His Mom blew us off AGAIN on the list of wedding guest addresses. I realized we were out of soup. Suddenly, I found myself sobbing quietly on the kitchen floor. Irrationally, I wondered if I could make a run for it. Maybe, if I left right then (alone), I could get away before the problems noticed. But I'm weak. I decided to crawl into bed instead.

Each day this empty space inside my head gets bigger. It stretches itself out, taking possession of neighboring territories. I wish I could call it a hostile takeover. But it isn't. It feeds on apathy. There used to be this voice inside my head. It was strong and beautiful. "I can...!" "I will...!" "I am...!" But now it tells me, "I can't..." "I won't..." "I'm not..." The relief comes when it doesn't speak at all. Sometimes I'm overcome by anger and I think that I would do anything to have that voice back. Anything! But at what cost? I wish someone could tell me. But then again, what if it wasn't what I wanted to hear?

What if it meant giving up everything?

The End Of A Love Affair

I'm breaking up with Yahoo Answers.

I posted my question on their site this morning and they shut me down!

Pfft, as if I needed more votes anyway. I think it's pretty clear who's going to win. But, what can I say? I'm a poll whore. Secretly, I just wanted to see how many strangers I could drag (willingly) into my wedding madness. Five minutes after I'd posted the question, someone came and flagged me (TWICE) for inappropriate contest / spam. So then Yahoo yanked my legitimate question off the site and docked me twenty points. Twenty points! Srsly?

The point system really pisses me off anyway. The whole thing reeks of a 10th grade popularity contest. You get two measly points every time you answer a question, ten points on the off chance you get voted for best answer, and minus five points if you dare to ask a question. Then, people get to judge you on how much they liked your answers. It doesn't have to make sense either. Sometimes people will give a thumbs down to a perfectly good answer just because it isn't what they wanted to hear.

"I'll just email the administrator," I thought at first. "They'll sort this out for me." But really, it's hard to rationalize a situation like this when there are questions on the site like, "My fiance's father called me a 'WOLF BREASTED VAGINA' what does that mean?" Surely that's more offensive than, "What color invitations should I get?" After a couple of hours the administrator-bot finally emailed me back. Enclosed was a copy of the site policy and a manufactured apology. But they weren't going to retract the action. Asshats.

I shouldn't care. I really shouldn't. But it's the principle of the thing!

The Cleaning Lady's Daughter:

The little girl's name is Amelia. I feel better for knowing it, somehow.

I came in to work yesterday and was immediately disappointed that there wasn't a note on my desk. I had been sure that there would be that day. After double checking the cabinet and both shelves, I came back to the desk and wheeled out my chair. There is was, folded neatly on the seat. I opened the page and a smaller one fell out. The smaller one was from the girl, Amelia. She wrote:

Thank you so so much for my paper pad. Ive been felling real sad because my brother had to go back to Washington so Ive been sad for the last day. Thank you so much I will use it everyday and all the time. THANK YOU!! Love, Amelia.

The bigger note was from her Mom. It read:

Thank you for the nice note. I knew Amelia was leaving notes on ---'s desk, however I didn't know she was leaving them on yours as well. Amelia had been coming with me for the past few weeks and was feeling sad because her stepbrother moved back to Washington. However, she shouldn't have been leaving notes on people's desks. Anyways, that was very sweet of you to give her sticky notes. Thank you so much.

I have a feeling I won't be getting notes anymore.

But it was fun while it lasted.

Delayed On Account Of Stupidity

The 3rd Annual Blog Header Showdown will start tomorrow, and not today as originally stated. We were without power for most of the weekend and it was all my fault. As I was blow drying my hair Saturday morning, the power went out. Oddly, it didn't dawn on me to think that the two might have anything to do with each other. No. My conclusion was that we were experiencing a brownout. Hoop checked the breakers, but not thoroughly. Because, as I'd told him, we were having electrical problems. So what was the point? It would be back up soon.

Fast forward to last night. -Do you like how I did that? You didn't even have to live through the torture of the whole thing! You're welcome.- Still no power. "Listen," Hoop finally confessed. "I've never heard of a brownout before. But I'm pretty sure our electricity should be back on by now." I had to agreed. "Maybe it's one of the GFCI outlets." I am so fucking brilliant. So we ran around the house looking for reset buttons to press. That's when we realized that our house only has ONE GFCI outlet, and it's not in either of the two bathrooms. Huh. Termites AND shoddy electric work.

After pressing the reset button of the lone GFCI outlet, the electricity still wasn't back on. That's when Hoop decided to go back out to the box. "Oh!" Came his muffled reply a minute later. "This breaker wasn't fully tripped!" Suddenly, the lights came back on. I couldn't decide whether I should be elated or pissed. "Yay!" I shouted, followed by "What the hell, Hoop? I had headers to make tonight!" His smile quickly turned to confusion. "But YOU said it was a brownout." And that's when I realized...

It's not always such a great idea to act like you know what you're talking about.

Because the one time someone decides to listen to you, you're going to be wrong.

Daily Hoop Conversation:
Tink: Wouldn't you say that I'm a pretty independent person?
Hoop: ...Sure you are.
Tink: Why did you hesitate?
Hoop: I didn't hesitate.
Tink: You did to! What, you don't think I'm independent?
Hoop: You're always asking for help.
Tink: With what?
Hoop: The laundry, the dishes, the yard-
Tink: *Smacks Hoop's arm*
Hoop: What? It's TRUE.

TOMORROW: WWC and the start of the 3rd Annual Blog Header Showdown. Yeah, both. I know, I'm crazy. My head is going to blow up one of these days. Btw, don't forget to get your MS Button below if you've participated in Newt and OneDaisy's Fundraiser.

America The Sellout

I would like you all to join me in a collective scream.


Thank you.

It's been a bad day.

The family that runs the distributor I work for has decided not to pay our health insurance anymore. They're probably going to use the money to buy another BMW instead. Or maybe one of their homes in the country club needs a new pool. That large bow-tie shaped one is soooo outdated. I bet one of their gajillion kids (they're Catholic) needs a solid gold retainer. Whatever the reason, I'm sure it's not good enough. The "free" health insurance, if you didn't count the copay and limits, was the last shining perk of this job. Now it's gone. Gone like the Mastodons.

If you subtract what I'll be paying for it a week, on top of what I'm paying for gas, divided by the number of hours I work and the ten hours I commute a week... Yeah, I'm making the same pay as a Wal-Mart employee. Only, Wal-Mart provides free vests and a friendly cult-like atmosphere. All my company provides is a dicKtatorship and a motto of "You'll do anything for job security!" And how. Our parent company announced in the news yesterday that they might be selling-out to Belgium. For years they've drilled it into our heads that they're superior because they're American Owned.

"Born Here! Brewed Here!"

As an employee, I was constantly bombarded with statistics on why I should be proud to work for this company. "The SAB in SABMiller stands for South African Brewed, dontcha know? 68% of their profits go outside the U.S. 100% of our profits stay in the states. Don't you love your country? Support this company because we support America! Buy American goods!" To which I say now, find me something that's American made and I'll buy it. I love the idea of America, much like I love the idea of fat-free ice cream that tastes good. Ideas like that usually fall short in reality.

America has disappointed me.

There, I said it. Bring on the torches. We're like the young hotshot who walks into the board meeting expecting everyone to listen. We're the bully. We think we're beautiful, powerful, rich, better. So it must be so. I can only imagine what other countries must think. Do they sit in the back of the room, older, wiser, and whisper "Who DO they think they are?" Do they humor us just because they have to, or is it because they can't wait to see us fall flat on our faces? Here's my confession. I'm not all that proud to be an American right now. I'm a little ashamed, actually.

If I could, I would scoop everyone up -the poor, the proud, the determined, the scared, the regular Joe's just trying to get by- and build a country worth putting faith into. It's a shame that all these good souls are out fighting for this country, and there's going to be so little of OUR country left by the time they get back. "N.Y. Landmarks for Sale to Foreigners?" Where did we go wrong? "Sale Of An American Icon." Is it too late to turn around? "Stocks Turn Mixed As Oil Prices Rise." Because America? I want to believe. I do. So, I'll be leaving a light on... Just in case.

In Other (Lighter) News: We got our deposit back!!

Wedding Hell

Saturday afternoon, Hoop and I went to finalize the details of our wedding at the restaurant hosting our ceremony/reception. I'd diligently written a list of questions the night before, determined not to leave anything out. The moment we arrived, I felt uneasy. The coordinator, Bridget, looked all of seventeen. "Let me show you the upstairs room," she said airily. "We don't need to see it," I said. "We've already booked it. For the eighth of November?" Red flags were popping up in my head. I willed her to remember. "Oh!" She replied, looking confused. She took us upstairs anyway.

"I have a question about the seating," I started off. Originally, we were told this room could seat seventy-five. Then we were told only sixty. I was wondering if that was the max capacity of the room? Does that include the servers and the DJ?" "You don't have to feed your guests if you don't want to." She answered. I tried again. "No, we WANT to feed them. I was just trying to figure out how many people we could invite." "Um..." It was obvious she had no idea what I was asking. "We don't have a fire code or anything. But it would probably be too crowded to have a dance floor if you invited sixty people."

"Are you serious?" My throat was starting to constrict. "I wish someone had told us this before we reserved the room." Trying to diffuse the situation, Bridget took us back into her tiny office to look over the calendar. "Unfortunately, these other two rooms are booked. This one has a reception at four-" "-At four?" Hoop interjected. "But... Won't that conflict with our ceremony? They'd have to walk through where we're having it to get to their room." "Oh!" Bridget gasped. "Well, that's not going to work! Who booked this?"

"YOU booked this," Hoop snapped. "I booked it with you on the phone about two months ago." I was starting to feel dizzy. "Can we just go home?" I pleaded with Hoop. "You could always change your date." The girl suggested, pointing at the next weekend. "But we've already ordered the cake and the flowers and the favors-" I answered weakly. "That's not going to work," Hoop replied. "We've already put in for the next week off and booked a cruise." Bridget shrugged and looked at me pityingly. "You could always have the ceremony at 4:30." Great. Right as the Saturday dinner crowd is arriving.

I suddenly had a vision of what the place would look like with two ceremonies, three receptions, and a normal dinner crowd all going on at the same time. Would anyone even know which party they belonged to? I begged Hoop again to go home. I wanted to leave before I cried. There was no way I was going to let this little ignorant girl push me overboard. It was either cry or leap across the room and beat her with her own toothpick arm. That's doesn't make me a Bridezilla, does it? I suddenly understood my florist's reaction when I'd told her where we were getting married.

"Oh, the Hilltop." Said as if it were a synonym of "puke" or "herpes". "What's wrong?" My Mom had asked, suddenly going very white. "Nothing," Quick recovery. "It's just... They have a slight problem with double booking or overbooking their venues. You just make sure they do things right by you." I blew it off as just a bad experience. How could a lovely place like that, which makes most of it's revenue from weddings, possibly screw this up? So here I am, four and a half months to go, looking for a new location for our ceremony and reception.

Thank God I hadn't made the invitations yet! Just cross your fingers these assholes give us our deposit back. While you're at it, cross your other fingers that the rest of this goes smoothly. I'm not sure how much more of this I can take. Remember, I wanted to elope! Poor Hoop. Last night, as he was falling asleep, he mumbled into my hair. "I knew the moment that girl opened her mouth that she was going to ruin my weekend. I just knew it. That's why I was so mad." Well I'm glad he has this whole thing in perspective. Maybe I could learn a thing or two from him.

GINGER

(Guest post by Hoop)

Hey everyone! I know it has been a long time since I have made a guest post, but it is necessary. Help would be very much appreciated. If you have ever been on the receiving end of this situation and are offended, I'm sorry. We have a very annoying, helpless, temperamental hypochondriac plaguing our office. We will call her "Ginger." She causes everyone to do more work and she is stressing out the manager beyond belief. She has called in sick 16 days so far this year but always presents a doctor's note. She won't stop asking questions. She always F's up. She is incapable of learning. She always has an excuse. She tries to transfer blame. She gets jealous and on and on and on...

The worst part is the other 5 of us are getting bad. The behind the back jokes are getting out of control. If she heard the bombs being dropped, surely she would take the old double barrel wrapped up in the rebel flag behind the seat of her boyfriend's duelly to her head. Granted, like a bear, it would take a few shots to penetrate to the brain and someone would have time to get help. Also assuming she could figure out how the gun worked. And that someone would help her. It is getting very ugly and this woman will not quit. We are in the lending business and we have way too many obstacles to overcome right now as it is. Our customers don't like her either. All she talks to them about is how our economy sucks. How can I get her to quit? I've assigned a heavy workload, but I find myself helping her do it.

Any other ideas?

Hoop

Pensive

When I'm overwhelmed my brain has an odd habit of latching onto a phrase and repeating it over and over again, like I'm sinking and those words are the only thing that will keep me afloat. Today I thought, "My head feels like it's going to explode. It just might." Those last three words ran circles in my head, taunting me. "It just might. It just might." It felt like the prequel to a migraine, right before losing the ability to see noses. But the migraine never came and I eventually drowned the words out in coffee and curses.

We're two people short this week. Our receptionist, absentee extraordinaire, has been out since last Tuesday. She screwed up her back while lifting a milk jug out of her car. A MILK JUG. You have to hand it to her. She gets an "A" for originality. Next time I want to take a vacation, I think I'm going to have an unfortunate orange juicing accident. Maybe I'll be squeezing one and it'll fly out of my hand and hit me in the head, giving me a concussion. You know, the kind of brain trauma that can only be cured with sun and a bottle rum. Yo-ho!

The other employee, a friend as well as my mentor, is out because her Mom is in the hospital with heart problems. As much as it sucks to have her gone, I wish she'd stay away from work for awhile. She rushes around all day taking care of personal stuff, only to come in later and work long hours. She says, "I'm fine." She's not. She smiles like she has cancer of the soul. "Oh, she's so stoic," they say around the coffee pot. It breaks my heart. Why is this favorable? Why do we praise people who don't "burden" us with their emotions?

This same employee disappeared for a hysterectomy two years ago. No one knew where she went, or what for. Just that we weren't supposed to care... or send flowers. No flowers? For some reason that struck me the most. Even the dead get flowers. She came back four months later, a little sadder than when she'd left, and everyone pretended like nothing had happened. I wanted to throw her a party. Like, "Yay, you have so much room in there now! We should eat CAKE." But stoic people don't get parties I guess. Which makes me think, I'd rather cry. I'd rather they feel uncomfortable, damn it.

Maybe my head will explode...

It just might.

No Good

No good could come of my broken brain today.

All I can think of is work, and the idiots around me who orbit like dysfunctional satellites. I walk to the coffee pot and they circle, asking things like "How do you spell 'scratch'?" Grown men, old enough to be my father, and they can't spell at a third grade level! When I complained to the receptionist she replied, "Don't they have spellcheck?" As if THAT were the point. I walk back to my desk and they swoop in to gather data. "How do you forward an email?" "How do you put paper in the printer?" "Can you fix this for me?" I want to stab at them with my stapler, screaming "Back! Back!"

But I don't. Instead I calmly go and fix their problems, answer their queries, tell them there are no stupid questions. But I'm lying. There really ARE stupid questions. I hear about a hundred a day. Last night I dreamt that my ex-boyfriend's wife broke into our house because she wanted to see what were we're all about. But the roof was caving in and it reeked of cat pee. She acted appalled and quickly declined my offer of coffee. "We don't have any cats," I remember thinking. "This isn't what we're about!" I yelled after her. Then I closed the door and cried. I don't know why. It's all so strange.

My parent's, the biological one and the adopted, aren't speaking to each other at the moment. So I can't act happy until they're through. It just wouldn't do. I can't talk about the cute things Hoop said to me today, or the way I woke up smelling his hair and I didn't want to leave the bed. I can't talk about how he has annoyed me lately either. That would clearly mark me on the side of my Mother... or man-haters... or women in general. So I don't talk. It's not safe. Instead, I watch the clock and wait for the day to change. Is it the weekend yet? Can I stop pretending to be nice, or to care, or that I'm really sane under here?

Like I said... No good can come of my broken brain today.

Spam Subjects:
(In the order I received them)
When We're Together I secretly blame my farts on you.
Revolter What is... A gun that makes you sick.
Grinning Ear To Ear Has anyone ever stopped to imagine how WEIRD that would look?
Misunderstood? Not really. They all pretty much understand that I'm a nut.

January Search Terms:
(What people type into search engines that gets them here)
my hamster got shaken what can I do Oh no! Quick, reverse time.
warmed cockles
I hate elves Me too. Unless they're making me rice crispie treats... or cookies.
sesame street squares are really rectangles
homemade nair Removes the skin as well as the hair!