At my last house on my long day, I told him I had to leave and he ran up to give me a hug. He said, "Awwwww! When are you coming back?"
Yeah, that's pretty great, isn't it?
Monday, April 28
Worth
At my last house on my long day, I told him I had to leave and he ran up to give me a hug. He said, "Awwwww! When are you coming back?"
Yeah, that's pretty great, isn't it?
Wednesday, April 23
Pink
I have been reading In a Sunburned Country, by Bill Bryson, and I am falling into a serious crush with the author's style. He has, according to the book, spent half of his life in the United States, and half in England. This explains his lovely accent* and also the lovely british terms and phrases he uses.
*I also really enjoy a book on tape read by the author. Gives another dimension to the story telling, especially in a work like this, nonfiction.
I am very happy to discover that he's written many other books. At least two of these are books that I've thought many times should be written. Seeing now that they not only have been, and by someone whose style and wonderful sense of humor I very much enjoy tickles me pink. I'm thrilled.
Someone remind me to buy these books: A Short History of Nearly Everything
, and The Mother Tongue. Thanks.
*I also really enjoy a book on tape read by the author. Gives another dimension to the story telling, especially in a work like this, nonfiction.
I am very happy to discover that he's written many other books. At least two of these are books that I've thought many times should be written. Seeing now that they not only have been, and by someone whose style and wonderful sense of humor I very much enjoy tickles me pink. I'm thrilled.
Someone remind me to buy these books: A Short History of Nearly Everything
, and The Mother Tongue. Thanks.
Monday, April 21
she: i have a problem finding guys who are mutually interested with me.
she: actually, you know what? scratch that. i think this is humankind's issue.
he: ha
she: it is so fucking rare to find someone you actually find interesting who actually finds you interesting as well.
she: at least long enough to have more than a couple of conversations with
he: I suppose.
he: kids these days
she: and i am totally vain enough that i cant get into a guy, no matter how hot, if he's just generically into pussy
he: ha
she: and if everything interesting about him is that he's interested in me, that's even worse.
he: makes sense
she: I mean, I am fucking awesome, but I pretty much already know everything there is to know about me.
she: so it can get you a little ways, but after that, you'd better be planning on some damn fine conversation.
she: that's reasonable, i think.
she: sorry, i bet you're still trying to get laid, aren't you?
he: hah
he: no
he: It is reasonable.
he: I haven't even talked to her.
he: You got most of the conversation.
she: is that a really nice way of saying, "You're talking an awful lot"?
she: actually, you know what? scratch that. i think this is humankind's issue.
he: ha
she: it is so fucking rare to find someone you actually find interesting who actually finds you interesting as well.
she: at least long enough to have more than a couple of conversations with
he: I suppose.
he: kids these days
she: and i am totally vain enough that i cant get into a guy, no matter how hot, if he's just generically into pussy
he: ha
she: and if everything interesting about him is that he's interested in me, that's even worse.
he: makes sense
she: I mean, I am fucking awesome, but I pretty much already know everything there is to know about me.
she: so it can get you a little ways, but after that, you'd better be planning on some damn fine conversation.
she: that's reasonable, i think.
she: sorry, i bet you're still trying to get laid, aren't you?
he: hah
he: no
he: It is reasonable.
he: I haven't even talked to her.
he: You got most of the conversation.
she: is that a really nice way of saying, "You're talking an awful lot"?
From What to Expect When You're Expecting*:
Cunnilingus is safe throughout pregnancy, as long as your mate takes care not to BLOW AIR INTO your vagina. [emphasis mine]
Please tell me this alarms you as much as it does me. Luckily for me, no one has ever needed this instruction (with child or not) and I hope that you ladies never have to resort to telling a guy you are not a balloon, either.
PS: I am not pregnant. I can't help but pick up this book when I see it lying around. It's so fascinating and alarming! Full of things I never wanted to know and yet want to be prepared for, should they ever happen to me!
Wednesday, April 16
Payback
Can you imagine for a second how defeated I feel after blowing the third tire in four months?
Last time, I bemoaned the fact that apparently I looked like someone who is perfectly capable of changing her own tire. Only one person stopped, and it was a lady to offer me her cell phone. (Thank you again, lady!) This time, I think I was more irritated.
When this happened in February, my phone was out of area, and I think that was my main problem. I texted my brother (two and a half hours away) and asked him to call my dad (at work) just to see if it would be possible to get some help. I didn't get an answer (see above, re: phone not working) and decided I'd have to take it upon myself to change the tire. And I did, and I felt pretty damn good about it for the rest of the week. My dad was proud of me, it was nice.
Earlier today, I had barely pulled off to the side of the road and gotten the spare out of the trunk (again, my phone is not working) before an older couple in a truck pulled over and the man (I'm going to call him Walter) took the what-do-you-call-it out of my hands and knelt down to take over. Of course I appreciate their help. What I don't appreciate is their assumption that I needed their help. Now, I'm plenty lazy. I'm sure I would have let anybody who offered take over while I stood back and watched. It was Bessie's (I'm going to call her Bessie) constant comments on how, "You really need a big strong man for this kind of job!" and "It's good to have a man around to do this kind of hard work!" really chafed me. Just because I have a vagina and a set of bosoms does not mean that I am incompetent.
Of COURSE I thanked the couple many times for stopping. And I probably smiled in her direction as she made belittling comments, because they were helping me, taking time out of their day to help and do the right thing. And Bessie kept going on and on about how someone (Oh, excuse me. Some MAN.) had helped her one time and she'd tried to pay him (at this point, I believe I was hoping they weren't expecting me to offer them money) but he told her that someone helped his wife once and he was just paying it back. (If it sounds like a country song, well, it is.)
She laughed as they were headed to their truck, telling me not to forget to pay it back someday. I wonder what's funny about that?
Last time, I bemoaned the fact that apparently I looked like someone who is perfectly capable of changing her own tire. Only one person stopped, and it was a lady to offer me her cell phone. (Thank you again, lady!) This time, I think I was more irritated.
When this happened in February, my phone was out of area, and I think that was my main problem. I texted my brother (two and a half hours away) and asked him to call my dad (at work) just to see if it would be possible to get some help. I didn't get an answer (see above, re: phone not working) and decided I'd have to take it upon myself to change the tire. And I did, and I felt pretty damn good about it for the rest of the week. My dad was proud of me, it was nice.
Earlier today, I had barely pulled off to the side of the road and gotten the spare out of the trunk (again, my phone is not working) before an older couple in a truck pulled over and the man (I'm going to call him Walter) took the what-do-you-call-it out of my hands and knelt down to take over. Of course I appreciate their help. What I don't appreciate is their assumption that I needed their help. Now, I'm plenty lazy. I'm sure I would have let anybody who offered take over while I stood back and watched. It was Bessie's (I'm going to call her Bessie) constant comments on how, "You really need a big strong man for this kind of job!" and "It's good to have a man around to do this kind of hard work!" really chafed me. Just because I have a vagina and a set of bosoms does not mean that I am incompetent.
Of COURSE I thanked the couple many times for stopping. And I probably smiled in her direction as she made belittling comments, because they were helping me, taking time out of their day to help and do the right thing. And Bessie kept going on and on about how someone (Oh, excuse me. Some MAN.) had helped her one time and she'd tried to pay him (at this point, I believe I was hoping they weren't expecting me to offer them money) but he told her that someone helped his wife once and he was just paying it back. (If it sounds like a country song, well, it is.)
She laughed as they were headed to their truck, telling me not to forget to pay it back someday. I wonder what's funny about that?
Friday, April 11
Now, With Updates!
- Dad's surgery went fine, he came back home on Wednesday and walked around grumping about things. So he's good as new, hooray! And most of the parts of his brain are getting adequate blood flow!
- I've got my new house tonight, the house with the little girl who can't talk. It makes me nervous. Dad has a habit (totally understandable but no less freaky for that) of hovering when therapy is going on. Therapy consists of a lot of mimickry of the nonsense sounds she makes, which is kind of on this side of embarassing to do with an audience. She's also very climby, which makes a person tired. I can only sling around a forty pound moving sack of potatoes for about a half an hour at a time without getting too winded to speak. Or mimic nonsense sounds, rather.
- The amount of time I spend driving and money on gas is making me pretty seriously unhappy lately. I want a job I don't have to drive for, with steady and normal hours. They usually don't hire for aides at schools unless it's the beginning of the school year, though, so I've got a wait ahead of me.
- I'm excited to go to a conference for autism at the beginning of May in Appleton. Not the least of which because I'll be getting paid for it.
- Mom is finishing up my taxes as I type. Way to wait until the last second, Mom! Also: Way to bitch about your free and painless tax preparation, Sunny!
- I've got my new house tonight, the house with the little girl who can't talk. It makes me nervous. Dad has a habit (totally understandable but no less freaky for that) of hovering when therapy is going on. Therapy consists of a lot of mimickry of the nonsense sounds she makes, which is kind of on this side of embarassing to do with an audience. She's also very climby, which makes a person tired. I can only sling around a forty pound moving sack of potatoes for about a half an hour at a time without getting too winded to speak. Or mimic nonsense sounds, rather.
- The amount of time I spend driving and money on gas is making me pretty seriously unhappy lately. I want a job I don't have to drive for, with steady and normal hours. They usually don't hire for aides at schools unless it's the beginning of the school year, though, so I've got a wait ahead of me.
- I'm excited to go to a conference for autism at the beginning of May in Appleton. Not the least of which because I'll be getting paid for it.
- Mom is finishing up my taxes as I type. Way to wait until the last second, Mom! Also: Way to bitch about your free and painless tax preparation, Sunny!
Tuesday, April 8
Sunday, April 6
Round and Round
I went shopping on Friday night after work and ran into an old friend's mom. That's always awkward. Espeicially when the old friend is one that I no longer speak to because he treats me like dirt when we do talk and I don't think I deserve that.
It's one of those situations where I feel compelled to send him an email every year or so (hmm, coming up on that time of year, come to think of it!) and when he gets it he feels compelled to tell me why I'm worthless and heartless and a low-down-rotten excuse for a person. It's way fun. It's like this though, I can't seem to give up on it. I think I have an imbalance somewhere. Called optimism. Plus, I've been known to get nostalgic when looking at old underwear, so you can imagine how I feel about old friends.
(If Bruce reads this, he will be sitting inside of his monitor by now, using every bit of the force of his will to tell me not to email this guy. He knows.)
That's not where I meant to go with this post, but there it landed. Where I meant to go with this post was, "I bought a pair of shoes on Friday and the silly salesgirl put them in a seperate bag from the board game I bought and then didn't give the bag to me. So I had shoes that I purchased festering in Green Bay over Friday night, and I'm lucky that I had to work there again on Saturday or I would have had to waste a bunch of gas for them." Much shorter post.
I should also mention that after working with the new kid on Saturday (and with two new people, as well), I was feeling pretty scared and unsure of myself. After talking with some friends and marinating in it for a while, I realize that I wasn't scared that I couldn't do it so much as I was insecure about how the new girls saw me. Which won't be helped by me having a lead therapist there on Tuesday, it would probably only make it worse. I'm sure I'll be fine. New houses just make me nervous, new people make me nervous, new kids make me nervous, and this new kid is non-verbal which makes me very nervous. The best way to cure all of that (for me) is to dive in.
It's one of those situations where I feel compelled to send him an email every year or so (hmm, coming up on that time of year, come to think of it!) and when he gets it he feels compelled to tell me why I'm worthless and heartless and a low-down-rotten excuse for a person. It's way fun. It's like this though, I can't seem to give up on it. I think I have an imbalance somewhere. Called optimism. Plus, I've been known to get nostalgic when looking at old underwear, so you can imagine how I feel about old friends.
(If Bruce reads this, he will be sitting inside of his monitor by now, using every bit of the force of his will to tell me not to email this guy. He knows.)
That's not where I meant to go with this post, but there it landed. Where I meant to go with this post was, "I bought a pair of shoes on Friday and the silly salesgirl put them in a seperate bag from the board game I bought and then didn't give the bag to me. So I had shoes that I purchased festering in Green Bay over Friday night, and I'm lucky that I had to work there again on Saturday or I would have had to waste a bunch of gas for them." Much shorter post.
I should also mention that after working with the new kid on Saturday (and with two new people, as well), I was feeling pretty scared and unsure of myself. After talking with some friends and marinating in it for a while, I realize that I wasn't scared that I couldn't do it so much as I was insecure about how the new girls saw me. Which won't be helped by me having a lead therapist there on Tuesday, it would probably only make it worse. I'm sure I'll be fine. New houses just make me nervous, new people make me nervous, new kids make me nervous, and this new kid is non-verbal which makes me very nervous. The best way to cure all of that (for me) is to dive in.
Friday, April 4
Scared
I had lots of dreams last night. Oddly enough, I think they all included my cousin. And one of them had to do with a prostitution ring. Yeah, that kind of weird.
Things are very crazy right now. Dad has been having what he calls "episodes". From what I gather, he gets dizzy and feels like he might fall down. He had a stroke in 2003 (or a series of them, actually), and went to the neurologist yesterday to see if they could tell him what was the matter with him. They were concerned, and took him in for an MRI. They noticed a blockage in his brain and scheduled an angioplasty, probably adding some stents. And then they'll go and shoot him full of dye to see if the blood is flowing freely.
And last week, I was all worried about Mom.
Wednesday, April 2
Threesome
You all thought I was kidding in that Twitter, didn't you? Nosiree, I would not joke about such serious matters.
I think these days are probably behind us. I'm torn between feeling sympathetic relief for the slipper and Linus (and real relief for my ears! Linus was not a fan of the butt sex) and loss for the comedic side of things. Because really - homosexual threesomes with inanimate love objects? Wow. That's gold, baby. Solid.
Tuesday, April 1
Sick-Oh
I am sick. I don't know the exact moment that it happened (mostly because I was sleeping), but I know that I woke up with a pretty wicked cough. A cough is a cough, though, and unless it's of the -ing-up-blood variety, I can usually handle myself at work. So in I went this morning.
After work, I went to Green Bay to figure out my size for the bridesmaid's dress I'm scheduled to wear in August. I'm a size bigger on top than on bottom. Thanks, boobs. You really enjoy making things difficult, don't you?
(Although, I talked to Lisa today and asked her to please tell me I wasn't going to be seen as the fat bridesmaid. No, she says, I will be the bridesmaid with boobs. Score. Also, the dress is somehow slimming, making this perhaps the only flattering bridesmaid dress in the history of marriage.)
After lunch (thanks Lisa!) and wandering around the mall some, I started to feel a little off. When I pulled out of my parking spot, I pulled directly into another parking spot to call my supervisor and call in sick to my second house. I drove home, feeling pretty loopy the whole way, and went directly to bed. I am doubtful about tomorrow, but we'll see. It's not like I can afford too many sick days.
After work, I went to Green Bay to figure out my size for the bridesmaid's dress I'm scheduled to wear in August. I'm a size bigger on top than on bottom. Thanks, boobs. You really enjoy making things difficult, don't you?
(Although, I talked to Lisa today and asked her to please tell me I wasn't going to be seen as the fat bridesmaid. No, she says, I will be the bridesmaid with boobs. Score. Also, the dress is somehow slimming, making this perhaps the only flattering bridesmaid dress in the history of marriage.)
After lunch (thanks Lisa!) and wandering around the mall some, I started to feel a little off. When I pulled out of my parking spot, I pulled directly into another parking spot to call my supervisor and call in sick to my second house. I drove home, feeling pretty loopy the whole way, and went directly to bed. I am doubtful about tomorrow, but we'll see. It's not like I can afford too many sick days.
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