I couldn't resist Crimson Peak

It opened yesterday. The first showing nearest me was at 11:20. Depsite the fact that I have been suffering from a migraine all week and was dead tired; AND I'm supposed to go on Monday with some friends, I stayed up to go see it. Why?

And from the scene that has fangirls around the world screaming "She's in MY SPOT!!!"

Any Questions?!?

Because it was so early, I had a nearly private screening. It was me & two slightly weird guys, both of whom had to be discouraged from sitting next to me. Seriously. In a huge empty theater, the only place you can find to sit is next to the Amazon in the center of the top back row?!? One caught my headshake as he saw me and started up the stairs and had enough sense to stop and find a seat where he was. The other had to the threatened with being tossed back down to the bottom after saying "don't worry baby, you can cling to me if it gets too scary." He wisely decided to move a few rows down after that. AND I heard HIM screech in fright when the first bloody ghost showed up. Heh.

I won't say anything about the story other than I walked out of the theater wondering what the hell I'd just watched. Tom, is beautiful, even when his character's Loki is showing. (yeah, I went there) Jessica Chastain is wonderful as his possessive sister, and I even liked Mia as Edith despite the fact that she gets to snog Tom & I don't. Charlie Hunnam was wasted- they managed to make him look plain, and his character was boring.

The guy who had enough sense not to come near me at the beginning did linger after the credits to talk to me and ask what I thought of the movie. He turned out to be a rather nice comic book geek and we had an interesting chat. He also asked me if I wanted to go have lunch with him. I actually would have gone if I hadn't been so tired that I couldn't see straight. It was 2:45 before we left the theater- the previews were nearly 45 minutes and the movie itself was 2 hours! I did suggest meeting at the bookstore on Sunday instead and he agreed to that. It's not going to be a date, but I figured it might not hurt to make a new friend.

Three last things:

1. Guillermo del Toro lied. We DO NOT get to see "Loki's pokey stick."

2. Don't bother sitting through the credits. There's no bonus content.

3. the 2 best previews were for Victor Frankenstein (James McAvoy & Daniel Radcliffe- looked quite promising!) and the Last Witch Hunter. (Vin Diesel) Will probably wait until they both are on DVD, but they looked good!

The New Kids At Work Aren't Getting Any Smarter

The following conversation took place a few days ago:

Conversation with me and Officer Dimwit

Me: What do you have?

OD: *deer in the headlights look*

M: *slowly* What. Do. You. Have?

OD: (clutching citation & duffle bag) Um, a bag?

M: (resisting urge to slap him) Is it evidence or personal property?

OD: Ummmmm

M: You have to pick one.

OD: *hesitantly* Well, they wouldn’t take it at the jail…

M: So, it’s personal property then?

OD: Ummm, no it’s for safekeeping.

M: *barely resisting the urge to facepalm in front of him* Yes, that’s what personal property means.

OD: *blank look*

M: Does it contain any food, money, or medication?

OD: *blank look*

M: *repeats question*

OD: Ummm, no there’s no food or money.

M: What about medication?

OD: *Another blank look*

M: *wearily* Dude, work with me. Is there any medication in the bag?

OD: *suddenly brightly* Oh, you mean drugs?!?

M: *weeping silently inside my head* Yes. Got any?!?

OD: Um, gee, I don’t think so…

We repeated this process when I asked about electronics like cell phones or e-readers. It took 20 minutes just to get that much out of him. Then I had to all but beg for the citation. He had a death grip on the bag and the paperwork and it was like he wasn’t actually going to give me either of them.

Where are they getting these people?!?

Pokes & Prods

Welcome back to the medical soap opera that is my life. Last Monday I had the treat of literally being scoped out from top to bottom by the GI doctor.

Good news: I apparently have a beautiful colon.

Bad news: The acid reflux that I was told was all in my head has severely burned my esophagus and I am now having a Rx strength antacid
added to my medication. If the insurance company approves it. They want Dr. H to submit something in writing telling them why I need it before they'll pay for it. And of course it's too expensive for me to just pay for it outright. I'm trying to make do with OTC meds for now. They don't do a lot, but it's better than nothing.

Worse news: I have to give up my beloved iced coffee. The acid in it isn't helping. Luckily enough, I'm still allowed my teas.


Then on Wednesday, I went back to see Dr. M about my damned thyroid. He looked at the ultrasound pictures and said, "Well, the tumor's only grown a little bit." Yeah, but that little bit now makes it half the size of what's left of the kaza-flatching gland. "Hmmm, this isn't good. It's feeling firm." So what does that mean? Well, it's not likely to shrink, and it's apparently trying to calcify which means it's about to do something really icky. But again, the insurance company wants a biopsy before it gets removed. Dr. M did promise me though that if we don't get that sucker out by the end of March, it'll be coming out in the next 6-12 months. Fine by me. I'm not looking forward to the anesthesia mask- hello, flight or fight instinct!- but I want at least one thing to be finished and done with.

The Surgery Story (may be long & rambling- my brain is not totally functional right now)

So Daddy's heart surgery was on Friday. The planned procedures were: replacing 2 heart valves, doing one bypass, and scarring on a chamber to alleviate his A-fib.

My sisters arrived on Thursday. All four of them. This was a surprise to us, because we were told only one would be able to come after it had been re-scheduled. Only 2 of my BILs were brave enough to come along for this adventure. To be fair, Sandra's husband Eddie was in the hospital with congestive respiratory failure himself, but he insisted she come be with Dad.

We met at the hospital at 5 a.m. Friday. They took Dad back almost immediately, and we were allowed to come back for hugs/kisses/prayers before they took him off to surgery. The nurse took one look at us and asked "Is this ALL of them?" The look on her face when we said no was priceless.

Waiting is the worst. Around 7-8, we went to the cafeteria for breakfast. I'm a nervous eater and apparently so are my sisters. That place made a lot of money on us that morning! I took coffee & a danish back to Mom and we all sat around playing the waiting game. Sandra called the hospital back home to get an update on Eddie and scared us all to death when she burst into tears. It turned out to be a good cry though- they told her that he was off the breathing tubes and doing just fine. In fact he was fussing about wanting something to eat.

Sometime around 11-12, the surgeon came out to talk to us. He said Daddy had made it through the surgery like a champ! They wound up being able to replace the leaky heart valves instead of having to replace them, so the operation was less invasive/involved than they expected. (YAY) He also said that Daddy should be good for at least 10 more years now. (oh boy) It was going to be at least 2 hours before we could go back and see him, so we opted to go get lunch.

On the way to the parking garage, everything just hit me at once. I started bawling, much to the horror of my brothers. JR is normally a smart ass, but he was the first one to hug me and THEN he started picking on me to get me to stop crying. Roy started crying when I did, much to Audrey's disgust. Anyway, we all dried up after a minute or two and headed out.

We went to a Mexican restaurant near their hotel for lunch. They'd stopped in for Margaritas the night before and the host remembered them. (not entirely a surprise, given our family) Apparently he was so taken with the pack of us that he started pulling the staff out of the kitchen to gawk at us. The food was really good, though.

Saturday is kind of a blur. Daddy was still heavily drugged, so we took turns going in to sit with him. He did blink at us and squeeze our hands, so we knew it was really him in there. The ICU would only let us in 2 at a time for 10 minutes per pair. At the end of afternoon visiting hours, Sandra & I went shopping while the others went back to the hotel to pack up and move to a new one. Because the PGA championship was in town, hotel rooms were hard to come by and the 6 of them wound up having to share one room for Saturday night. I won't go into details about the dance off that took place before I left them for the night other than to say that Sandra & Audrey are wild women and should know better than to twerk.

Audrey, Roy, & Sandra had to leave Sunday morning. Daddy was still pretty out of it, but was fussing about his breathing tubes. The rest of us spent the day in and out.

Brenda, Angie, & JR left early Monday morning. Shortly after that, Dad managed to pull out his breathing tubes. Mom & I flew down to the hospital and were told that he'd thrown up while they were examining him to see how much damage he'd done to himself and aspirated some of it into his lungs. They were afraid they'd have to cut him open again to clean out his lungs, but were eventually able to flush everything out. He kept fighting the oxygen and other masks they tried to put on him in place of the breathing tubes, so they had to drug him senseless again and put him in restraints. And put the breathing tube back in. Needless to say, I didn't make it to work yesterday.

Today, after a night under sedation and lots of oxygen forced into him, Dad is MUCH improved. The doctors are optimistic that he'll be off the vents by Thursday, and if so, he can be moved into regular recovery. He waved at me when I stopped in to visit before work, and winked at me when I told him that I'd bought his lottery tickets for the weekend.

Then I made the mistake of coming to work. Psycho is giving me the silent treatment because I had the nerve to put my Dad before this hell hole, and if she rolls her eyes one more time when one of my friends drops in to hug me and ask about Dad, I am going to roll her head across the floor.

Yeah, life is getting back to normal.

Oy Vey

So, we're leaving for NC. At the same time a tropical storm is supposed to wash ashore. Can't reach the cousin who planned the reunion to find out if there is a contingency plan and my insane parents think we should go anyway. I'm going, but I refuse to be happy about it.

The Date That Wasn't

So, in a moment of insanity, I decided to give internet dating one final shot. I signed up on a different site than any of the ones I'd tried before, sorted through several likely looking candidates, emailed back and forth with a few of them, and finally agreed to meet one at the Barnes & Ignoble cafe on Saturday. Now, as per my earlier attempts at e-dating, I did not put a picture on my profile. I was VERY honest in my description of myself when he asked what I looked like because that's what I do. He apparently thought I was kidding or exaggerating, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

Saturday rolled around and I made myself get up and get ready for this date. I didn't have really high expectations for it, but I thought it would be nice to get out and it might give me a confidence boost to try another one. That didn't happen.

I sat there in that damned cafe for 40 minutes before he showed up. He took one look at me and walked back out, not realizing that I'd seen him. I have to admit, I was a bit taken aback by that. I waited a minute or two, hoping that maybe he'd just gone back to his car to get his cell phone or something. Uh-uh. He'd left. I got a lame email excuse from him a little later that evening, which I took great glee in savagely responding to. Then I deactivated my account on that site and officially declared myself through with online dating. For real, this time.


The evening wasn't a total loss. I got myself a take-out dinner from a nice restaurant (I wasn't feeling cheery enough to sit in the place eating alone surrounded by couples on date night) and spent the rest of the night watching Tom Hiddleston movies at home.

What doesn't kill me makes me stronger...

So right now I should be able to take on freaking Samson, or be Atlas with the weight of the world on my shoulders.

Daddy & Uncle John are both now in the hospital.

I can't take much more of this.

Post-Vacation Odds & Ends

So, I'd planned to spend Wednesday after Chad & Mel left sleeping in. Then I remembered that I had an appointment with Dr B on Thursday and hadn't had my blood drawn for labs yet. I called his office to see if I could reschedule and then next appointment wasn't until July. I knew he'd kill me if I waited that long, so I told the girl to leave me where I was on the schedule and made myself get up and go to the lab. He prefers to have labs done a week ahead of my visits, but I prefer not getting stuck by needles and at least I went.


Then I wanted to go home and go to bed, but I hadn't eaten for 24 hours (always have to do fasting labs), so I stopped at Panera for a snack. Harriet had called me and let me know my monthly pattern was in at the Needle Nest, and since it had been a while since I'd been over there, I decided I might as well go then. Stopped at Starbucks for more me-fuel, and hit the road. Spent way too much money as usual, but had a good time doing it. I may go to the stitch retreat she's organized in September. I wasn't going to at first, since it's the weekend of Dad's birthday, but we're not traveling for it this year, so I may go ahead.

The reason we're not traveling for Dad's birthday this year is because we're going to the Spencer Family reunion/Uncle John's birthday in July instead. Uncle J will be 87 this year and he told Mom that he didn't care if any of the others made it down, he wanted ME there. I don't know if I'll be able to get the Friday off that I need since we're short-handed in the office again, but I'm going to do my best. Worst case- I work and then drive straight down afterward.

But I digress-

Kept my appointment with Dr B on Thursday. He was thrilled with me. I'm down 15 lbs again, my blood pressure was down, my blood sugar was down, I'd actually checked my blood pressure at least once since my last visit and could tell him what it had been (117 over 75), and I promised I was going to the eye doctor on Friday. I really was planning to- Mom had cleared her schedule to drive me if they needed to dilate my eyes. I can drive after dilation, but my vision gets blurry and I'd prefer not to. Anyway, I don't have to see him for 6 months now. We still haven't figured out what to do about the fatigue and he vetoed my request for an antihistamine pump.

After my visit with him, I dropped by the eye doctor clinic since it was right across the street, to see if they could schedule me for Friday. (They're normally a walk-in place) I explained that I needed the specialty diabetic eye exam and the receptionist said "Well, we can take you right now if you'd like. There's nobody waiting at the moment and 2 doctors are free." Might as well do it, right? So I did.

The good news is that the diabetic exam doesn't require dilation. The better news is that my eyes are very healthy, although I am totally blind without glasses. The doctor asked me if I was sure I was diabetic because the state of my optic nerves didn't indicate it at all. (Dr B is going to love that) Then we did the rest of the tests and I was handed the delightful news that I have graduated to bifocals. Yay. I kind of knew it was coming since I find myself looking over my glasses more often than not when I have to read small print.

Then we got to my favorite part of the eye doctor- picking out new glasses! Of course they didn't have the same frames I already had in stock, which is a shame because I love these. (yes, these- will explain in a minute) I finally found a pair of purple metal frames with sort of squoval (squared oval) lenses that I liked. Then I picked a pair of silvery framed sunglasses- real sunglasses this time, not just regular glasses with dark lenses like my last pair. The total, after my insurance discounts, was $750. GULP. Now I remember why I go so long between eye doctor visits. Luckily I had signed up for the flexible spending card when we did insurance last year, and Dr B had changed me to some less expensive meds, so I was able to pay for them.

However, I'm still in my old glasses at the time of this writing because my new Rx was so jacked up that they had to special order both pairs of lenses and it will take nearly 2 weeks for them to come in. Yeah, I'm special like that.

Friday rolls around and I get a call from my mom that Dad is going to the hospital AGAIN. It seems he'd been suffering tummy troubles all week and didn't mention it until late Thursday night. Dr B had worked him into the Friday schedule, freaked when Dad told him what he'd been experiencing (won't go into detail- you're welcome) and immediately ordered his admittance. Then he said, and I quote, "What it is with your family?!? I finally get one of you functioning correctly and another one breaks!" (No HIPAA violations here- he has permission to share our records with each other)

We spent most of the weekend dancing attendance on the old coot. Mom & I did go get Chinese for dinner on Saturday, and we had another batch of Pigs in the Blanket for Mother's Day dinner. I bought her a copy of Book Lover's Scrabble, so we're looking forward to playing that the next time I'm over.

Sadly, my vacation ended, so it was back to work. Blah. I really need to win the lottery so I can live the life I'd like to become accustomed to...

Still here...sort of

The last few months have been filled with drama & trauma, but things seem to be levelling out again. I hope to resume blogging regularly. A short list of what's been going on:

1. Dad's 80th birthday party trip.

2. Iowa family gathering

3. I was hospitalized twice due to blood pressure issues (not fun)

4. The usual work drama, only I didn't get blamed for everything for a change and someone else got into serious trouble. (HAH!)

5. I played Candy Crush so obsessively that I reached the final (as of now) level and am dying of impatience as I wait for them to create more.


I've also read a ton of books that need to be reviewed and done a little cross-stitching.

More soon, I hope!

The Dear Officer Files

Dear Officer:

I see it's time to remind some of you morons of the following:

1. YES, you need a report number for anything you deposit with us. It is not our fault if you are not smart enough to tell Dispatch that you need a number for found or personal property, it doesn't get marked, and Reports harrasses you for the next six months.

2. DO NOT attempt to hand me a needle that is not in a safety tube. Should you manage to do it without sticking me, I will still break a foot off in your ass.

3. PLEASE tell us if ANYTHING you are handing us is sticky/has blood on it/anything you would not want your sister/wife/daughter touching with their bare hands. It is not funny to us and watching you laugh at our disgusted/panicked reactions when we've been exposed to god-knows-what is not going to help the situation.

4. DO NOT bring in something oversized/heavy and think you're going to waltz out without helping us move it to a storage location.

5. If you are a repeat offender for any of the things above or other issues named in previous "Dear Officer" letters, don't ask us why we're never happy when you come in. We'll tell you.


Disgustedly,

The Angry Amazon

Close Encounters of the Moldy Kind

So, at the beginning of July, they tried to kill me at work. 

It was a Thursday night that I was working alone and had been extremely busy. Then the 1st division Flex squad showed up with a search warrant. Warrants are fiddly, time-consuming, and usually a colossal pain in the ass because they collect everything they can get their hands on ESPECIALLY if it's a drug case...we've had furniture brought in because it "was probably bought with drug money."

This wasn't too bad as search warrants go...until I got to the money. I knew something wasn't right as soon as I touched it. A wave of sour, stale moldiness wafted up to assault my nose and the money was damp & sticky. "Was this in a basement or something?" The detective turning it in looked down and mumbled something about a safe.

Well, the bills were sticking together something awful and I kept having to recount them. The smell got worse with every recount and by the time I was done, I was a sneezing, wheezing, watery-eyed hot mess. AND my hands itched. (I tried wearing gloves but it's really hard to count money with them on, so I gave up)

It took 3 shots of my rescue inhaler, a double dose of antihistamines, and several applications of eye-drops to be able to breathe & see after I got everything packaged & put away. By the time I got home, it felt like there was a lead weight on my chest and my throat was on fire. Was I smart enough to go to the ER? No. However, I WAS smart enough to fill out the exposure forms and email my bosses about the issue before I left the office.

After a VERY bad night, I went into work the next day. Like an idiot. I told our "coordinator" that I was sick and needed to go home and/or see a doctor. Both the Sgt & Lt had taken vacation days and the useless wonder was left in charge. She called around to ask if anyone would come in and at least cover part of the shift. No, dummy, in a case like this, you are allowed to FORCE OT, which is what she would have had to do if I'd just been smart enough to call in sick in the first place. The problem was that she asked them all first (and was not surprisingly turned down), so when she called back to try to force someone in, nobody would answer their phones. (despite knowing that I was sick- my coworkers ARE asshats, in case you were wondering) So she said I'd just have to stay, but if it got too bad to call her and she'd try to come back and cover me herself. Gee, thanks.

Every officer that came in that night was horrified to see me. By 6 o'clock, I was back to wheezing/sneezing, my eyes were watery again, and I looked like someone had punched me in the nose and blackened both of them. Oh, and my relief for the night wandered in 15 minutes late to boot. (bitch)

Did I go to the ER then? Noooooo. (Yes, I am an idiot) I went home, crawled straight into bed and spent the night fighting a fever & chills. I spent most of the weekend in bed, sick as a dog. Monday, I called in sick and dared them to argue. Tuesday morning, I finally went to the doctor. She was horrified and gave me an antibiotic that I have forgotten the name of but was like germ napalm. Not only did it knock out the sinus/throat infection my allergic reaction turned into, it cleared up acne!

It took nearly two weeks for me to get back to what passes for normal in my life. In the meantime, my bosses quizzed the detective who finally, albeit reluctantly, admitted that the money hadn't been in a safe, but was hidden inside the gaps of cinder-blocks in the drug dealer's foundation."But none of us had a problem after WE handled it!" Yeah, well none of YOU has a compromised immune system AND major mold allergies. Asses were ripped, apologies were issued, and the tellers at the bank were NOT happy to get that moldy money.

Lessons learned:

1. When a detective gives you a sketchy answer, make THEM handle the evidence.

2. GO TO THE FREAKING HOSPITAL

3. I will no longer answer my phone if it's the office. If they need someone to cover a 'sick' coworker, tough shit. I sucked up, they can too.


*****************************************************************
I'm on vacation for the next two weeks. Blog posts will continue to be sporadic.

Odds and Ends

Late post. At least there IS one this Monday...

Anyway, I seem to have hit a patch of writer's block, so here are some random reflections from my weekend:

1. Had lunch with my parents at Carabba's on Saturday. My father ordered a weird seafood canneloni dish that he didn't like instead of the shrimp fettucine we all knew he would, just to prove a point. No idea what that point was, but there you go. Mom had chicken fettucine and I had the steak marsala with garlic mashed potatoes and it was awesome. However, the best thing we ate was the caramelized onion and bacon flatbread! That's going on the list of favorites.

2. Went to Trader Joe's and, as usual, the parking lot and store were both a zoo. I grabbed the few things I needed for the mexican meal Mom & I planned for Sunday and tried to get out of dodge before I lost my mind. Got to the registers and they all had long lines. Several family groups were there, including one idiot woman who clearly believes in the free-range children version of parenting. Her children were doing some whirling dervish spinning/dancing, throwing things at each other, and being genrall obnoxious while she smiled beatifically at them. The cashier said something to her in a low tone and she said "They're free spirits!" Fine, ask them to be free spirits over there (pointed at the door) becasue they're in everyone's way over here. She huffily called them back to her side. About the time I made it through my line and tried to get to the door, the older child had once again left mom's side and was spinning in the middle of the exit aisle. I stopped and the brat crashed into me. Before I could do/say anything, Mom snarls at me. "You need to watch out for my child!" I favored her with my best evil, someone's-about-to-die smile and the cashier hissed, "No, your child needs to watch out for her!" The child was yanked back to her side in a hurry.

3. I attempted to leave the Trader Joe's lot and get to Whole Foods. 35 minutes later, I'd made it 20 feet. So what do I do next? I didn't stop at WF, I did something even more idiotic- went to Walmart on a Saturday afternoon. The geniuses at the Walmart by my house had filled that main aisles with displays that barely left room for one person with a cart to get by in either direction. they also decided that 5 p.m. Saturday was a perfect time to drag pallets out of the storerooms and leave them in random aisles so people couldn't duck down them instead of trailing along behind groups blocking the main aisles. Naturally, I got stuck behind Shamu's sister who was waddling along in 5 inch heels (yeah, those help with the mobility problems that go with obesity), leaning on her cart while munching on a bucket of (unpaid for) fried chicken from the deli and hollering for "Junior" to go get her some Doritos and Cheez Whiz (not making this up) while yacking on her cell phone. There were 10 people backed up behind me when I finally snapped and started screaming. One man whispered "Follow that lady!" to his wife. "We might actually get out of here sometime today."

4. Sunday stupidity was self-inflicted. I decided it was time to color my hair again. Have actually been meaning to do it for weeks, but decided yesterday was the day. Warm Reddish Brown is the color I was supposed to get. Warm Reddish Brown, my big fat ass. My hair is the color of burnt plum sauce. Or, as my mother said, "well....it's kind of purpley in the right light."

5. Dinner was excellent! We made Sausage & Potato and Spicy Fish Tacos. Topped with Creamy Cabbage & Corn Slaw or Citrusy Radish Slaw. I got to zing my mother with one of her classic lines regarding the fish tacos. "How Do You KNOW You Don't Like Them If You've Never Tried Them?!?" She tried one and allowed as they weren't bad, but she preferred the sausage.


So that was my weekend.

Oh, and today's moment of stupidity? Came from the officer who looked at me and said "Is your hair supposed to be that color?" I asked him about his limp. "What limp?" This one...and I kicked the crap out of his shin. (Relax, it was a friend and I was reasonably sure I wan't going to be charged with assault)

Odds & Ends

No review this week- am quite a bit behind on everything. So here's a list of things that have kept me from reading or are just cluttering my brain.

1. The IRS strikes again, so I won't be going to BEA this year after all. They claim I still owe them money, despite documentation to the contrary, so I expect we'll be fighting that out for a bit. Yay.

2. I have had more migraines in the last six months than I have for six years. Am not enjoying them at all and they can go away at any time. The smarter officers have learned that if I'm wearing my sunglasses in the office, trying to be funny is NOT a good idea. (today's symptoms include light sensitivity, sound sensitivity, dizziness, nausea, and unrelenting pain. This is a step up from Monday, which included auras and fainting, yet my boss still tried to make me come in until it was pointed out that he'd be violating our union contract by denying my sick day request)

3. Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (on top of migraines) seriously sucks. My house is in desperate need of cleaning/organizing and I can't get it done. I'm almost to the desperation point of asking my mother to help me.

3a. Laura & I went to the Needle Nest on Saturday to check out the new patterns from the Nashville Needlework Show. We had lunch & shopped, and were gone for maybe 4 hours. That was enough to wipe me out until Sunday afternoon. (The migraine kicked in late Sunday night) However, I did get some fun new stitchy stuff, including this little guy for keeping track of my needles:

3b. As a result of being worn out from my brief excursion, I still haven't gotten my Mongolian Bacon. Waah. Mom has promised to get me some for lunch one day this week IF I can drag myself out of bed early enough to meet her there before work.

4. My beloved high school BFF, Drew, signed me up for a Facebook group for our 25th reunion. OMFG- 25 years. What amused me is that most of the people listed on the group page were in the class before us or didn't go to the school at all. Too bad that I still don't give a shit about most of those people. I kept in touch with the small handful of people that I cared about and have NO intention of participating in this lunacy. Remind me to kill Drew later...

5. Got these t-shirts in the mail this week:



I love Woot Shirts and it had been almost a year since I bought any. These 2 were too good to pass up.

I think that's about it for now. More later...

Stupid Moments In My Employment History- part 2

Shortly after the heart attack incident, our bookstore moved. The property owners were re-developing the property and we were being moved into a 3 level area across the lot from our existing location. We were literally loading carts with books and pushing them across the broken asphalt of the parking lot to the new building and/or hauling bookcases. Well, some of us were. The in-crowd got to sit on stools and supervise.

Much to my amazement, I managed to get through the entire experience without any injuries more severe than broken nails and numerous bruises. So, of course, I tripped over a box in the warehouse of the new building and severely sprained my ankle AFTER we had re-opened for business.

Did you catch the bit about the new building being 3 levels? We now had a customer service desk on each level as well as the main cash register bank on the middle floor. The lower level was the smallest area, the music/video department and not heavily trafficked during the week. The other two desks were where the bulk of the books were and involved a lot of walking to get to anything. Also, the elevator wasn't working yet, so we had to take the stairs to each level. Since I was under doctor's orders (which my bosses had copies of, since it was a worker's comp issue) to walk as little as possible and keep weight off that ankle, I asked if I could either be assigned to the registers or lower service desk as much as possible until it healed. I could sit on a bar stool at either of those locations without it being obstrusive and still work. I also offered to do the jobs most people hated- stickering/destickering best sellers, pricing gift & accessory items and the like, since they needed to be done and it would be easy for me to work on them at either spot since I couldn't run around the store to help customers. Ideally, I would have stayed home until the ankle was better, but we didn't have paid sick leave and I couldn't afford the time off, so I thought I was offering some reasonable compromises.

The first day, good old Cleve (remember him?) took great delight in scheduling me at Main Service and Upper Service for the whole day. We all knew this was deliberate, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of begging for a different assignment. I *DID* ask if I could have a stool to sit on between customers and this was grudgingly allowed.

Day 2- Scheduled for the two heaviest service desks all day again. Gritted my teeth, got my stool, and tried to tough it out. Customers saw me limping around as I slowly & painfully made my way around the store to fill requests or show them where things were and asked why my bosses didn't give me an easier job. I mumbled something noncommittal and soldiered on. Until I came back from lunch and the stool was gone. Cleve & Bonnie (our GM) were waiting for me and he had a truimphant sneer on his face. Bonnie reminded me that employees were not supposed to have stools on the sales floor because sitting around was against (unwritten) policy. Um, I have a sprained ankle and I'm NOT supposed to be standing on it. "Did you ask if you could have a stool today?" Nooooo, I kind of thought it was obvious that I was going to need one wherever I was assigned until my ankle healed. "Well, you can't just take it upon yourself to bring stools onto the sales floor. You HAVE to ask EVERY day until you're better. Since you didn't ask today, this is going to have to be written up for your personnel file and we're taking the stool away for the rest of your shift." Seriously?

Day 3- same as before, but I asked for permission to have my stool. "How long is this going to be going on?" Um, until my ankle heals, and every day that I spend limping around this damned store, up & down stairs is going to make it that much longer for it to heal. It might help if I could be assigned to the register or lower service as I requested. "You don't decide schedules or how jobs are assigned, that's our job." And then I was written up for insubordination.

Day 4- same schedule, but amazingly none of the stools could be found when I went to get one. Right. I've had enough of this. So, unbeknownst to me, had one of the other assistant managers. HE called the owners and raised hell. A very panicked Rahm (one of the other owners) raced into the store and saw me limping back across the sales floor to the desk from a trip up to level 3. Cleve & Bonnie were summoned to the offices upstairs. 20 minutes later I was sent to lower service with a stool and told that I would be assigned down there until the doctor cleared me to be running around. Rahm not only read the managers the riot act about violating my doctor's orders, he removed both notes from my file and made them come apologize to me on the main floor in front of everyone. I graciously accepted that (okay, there was some smirking) and reiterated my offers to work at the registers if needed (as long as I could have a stool there) and the stickering projects. Rahm was pleased that I was willing to try to do things to make myself useful while on restricted duty and commented to Bonnie & Cleve that THEY should have thought of things like that themselves. (yeah, still not endearing me to the bosses)

Of course I knew that the ONLY reason Rahm was taking my side is that he was afraid I would file a lawsuit against the store. I found out later that D (the manager who called him on my behalf and who was in law school at the time) pointed out that there could be legal ramifications  for them violating doctor orders, especially on a workman's comp case. Heh.

Bad Dates 4- The Yahoo Personals Date w/Surprise Bonus Follow-up!

Oh yeah. I went there. The same idiot friend, M, who set me up on the first blind date managed to talk me into the early days of online dating. (in retrospect, it looks like *I'm* the idiot since I keep letting myself be talked into these things) It actually started as a class project- we were learning computer skills (a class mandated by the school for the non-traditional students. Really useless as most of us were more savvy than our instructors as well as our fellow traditional students) and one of the projects was to join an online group that related to one of our interests. Since most of the wrestling chat rooms were (and probably still are) mostly filled with comments like "THE ROOOOOCK IS SOOOOOO HOTTTT!!!1!" and "UR A GAY TARD!", and most of the rooms I found for my other interests were mainly peopled with freaks trolling for sex (again, probably still are) I was not enjoying this project.

Then M found the Yahoo personals. Have just broken up with her on/off boyfriend again, she decided to post an ad. But she didn't want to do it alone, so she convinced me and 3 other girls in the class to do it to. It took about 4 responses to my ad for me to realize that this was NOT one of her better ideas. The vast majority of the people who responded (not just to me, but to all of us) were only looking for sex, and freaky deviant sex at that. If that's your thing, cool, but keep it to yourself. Don't bring it up before you've even met the person you're propostioning, and no, thank you, I don't want a candle stuck there. (that was one of the tamer offers I got)

In amongst the disgusting pervy replies, there were a few that had some potential. One, and I swear I cannot remember his name to save my life, sent me messages that were intelligently written and we actually had some common interests. He was also a student, although a little younger than me. He sent me a picture of himself, taken at an awkward angle, so it was mostly his face, but it wasn't a face that sent me screaming out of the computer lab. (I learned later though that this should have been my first warning flag) After several weeks of emailing, I finally agreed to meet him in real life. *cue ominous music*

Actually, it wasn't that bad. Except for the fact that we lived in different parts of the state. I live in Louisville. He was in a small town near Lexington, about 45-75 minutes away. He didn't want to come to meet me and insisted I come to him. (warning flag number 2, if you're keeping score) Stupidly, I agreed. I did, however, tell several friends WHO I was meeting, WHERE I was supposed to meet him, WHEN I should be home and that if I didn't call them within 24 hours of the date to report me missing and to call my mother.

So I drove to Lexington and found the restuarant with very little trouble. Bud (well, I have to call him SOMETHING) had chosen a Mexican chain called Don Pablo's for lunch. Hey, it was a step up from my usual fast food dates. (my talent for finding cheap jerks is legendary) It didn't occur to me then that it might not have been the best choice for a first date. Now, I hadn't been able to send Bud a picture of myself, but I did give him a fairly honest description of what I look like. (I still don't put many pictures of myself up online- mainly because of my Bell's Palsy now, but I've never liked having my picture taken. In case you've not met me and are wondering, picture the Rock in drag only flabby, not as pretty, and with a bigger chest. That's fairly close)  He was waiting out front when I got there...only I thought maybe he'd brought his little brother and sent him out front to meet me.

Nope. It was Bud. He'd neglected to mention that he was a Hobbit. I don't mind dating guys shorter than me (up to a point), and I don't mind dating heavy guys because it's not like I'm skinny myself. But when you're only 5 ft tall and as big around as you are tall, a little honesty might be a good thing. Then again, in our shallow society, honesty probably got this poor guy rejected a lot. Who knows? "Wow," he said when I walked up and said hello. "You really ARE 6'2!" Um, yeah. Silly me, I actually was honest in my description. (I've since learned that a lot of people, especially those with an interest in sci-fi/fantasy, tend to describe themselves as they wish they were or ther way they imagine their RPG characters to look. Did I mention that I used to be somewhat naive?)

We went in and had lunch and managed to have a fairly lively, entertaining conversation once we both relaxed and he realized I wasn't going to look at him and run away. The problem was that we hadn't made any plans beyond lunch. I just didn't think about it, and he figured I'd blow him off when I saw him in person. There was a Barnes & Noble nearby, so after the third time our server walked my the table and glared at us, we decided to head over there and talk books.

Now, while I wasn't feeling the least bit romantically inclined toward him, I WAS enjoying the conversation, and I can talk books for days. He said he was going to stop by the restroom and he'd meet me at the store. I went to the bookstore and started browsing.

Still browsing, it occurs to me some time later that I haven't seen my "date" since I left the restaurant. I looked at my watch and realized I'd been there for 45 minutes. Well, I'll be dipped. Did *I* just get blown off? I had picked up a couple of books, so I decided to head to the register. I was almost there when I heard my name being called. Here came Bud, gasping for breath. "Sorry to take so long in the bathroom," he said. "Mexican food does that to me."

I could have gone the rest of my life without knowing that. I almost would have rather been blown off. We chatted a few more minutes, and I finally made my way back to Louisville.

Bud & I emailed a few more weeks, but he never wanted to make the drive to see me, and I wasn't interested enough to keep driving there to see him. The story more or less ends here...

...Until 1-11-13...

My BFF Laura is a big fan of the Robert Jordan Wheel of Time series. Joseph-Beth in Lexington, one of the few surviving indy bookstores in the area, was hosting a signing with Brandon Sanderson (the estate-approved author who finished the series after Jordan's death) and Jordan's widow. Laura was dying to go, so I agreed to go along for the ride even though I've never had an interest in the series. We had a great day- stopped at a couple of needlework stores, had a great Mexican lunch (I know, I know), and when we got to the bookstore, she waded into the crowd and I went and found a good chair to read & people watch.

Let's just say stereotypes exist for a reason. That night was proof that nearly every one about sci-fi/fantasy lovers was true. The handful of us who weren't there for the event spent our time fending off sundry geeks & nerds who didn't get the "GO AWAY" signals. My favorite was the guy with the wooden sword who posed in front of me. I looked at him, at the sword, rolled my eyes and shook my head NO. He shuffled off, to be swallowed by the crowd, and I went back to my book.

Then it happened...I heard a voice say, "Hey, don't I know you?" I looked up and there was Bud. OH NO. We exchanged hellos and he asked what my line number was for the signing. I'm not proud of what I did next, but in the interest of honesty, here it is: I told him I wasn't there for that myself, but with someone who was. (true) He craned his neck to look at my left hand. No ring, so he asked (in what I think was a hopeful tone) "Oh, are you here with a boyfriend?"

(I'm going to hell for this one) "Nope, here with my wife." The look on his face was priceless. "Yeah, she loves this series & got a good line number, so we should be out of here pretty soon." Just then, Laura texted me that she was through the line already and would meet me by the registers. I made my excuses to a stunned Bud and fled.

Laura just about died laughing when I told her what I'd done. I had to tell her right then- we'd decided to grab a snack in the cafe before we left and there was a chance he might come over to say hello. I would have told her anyway, just not while we were still there. At least she waited to call her husband and tell him about it until we were in the car and on our way home. I think he's STILL laughing.

Bad Date Stories 3- The LAST Blind Date

Despite previous experiences, I let a friend talk me into a date with his coworker a couple of years ago. It was another case of "good match on paper due to mutual interests" with the warning that his social skills needed a little work. C passed my number on to his work buddy and I waited for the call.

A few days later, the guy called. He asked me to meet for lunch becasue he didn't want to spend a lot on dinner in case it didn't work out. Strike one.

I suggested a few places for lunch, none of which was ungodly expensive. (Panera, for example) He countered with White Castle or McDonald's. Strike two.

I firmly told him that if we were going to do burgers, I at least wanted to go to Steak & Shake...and I would pay for my own meal so he wouldn't feel the burn if our 'date' didn't work out. He agreed to that. *eyeroll*

We met for lunch on the agreed day. C, and our friend B (who also worked there), apparently had described me well enough for him to recognize me as I walked in, but failed to mention that I'm, shall we say, statuesque. So I was greeted with, "Are you Mickey? Damn you're a big 'un!" Strike 3.

At least the food was good. (I ordered onion rings- a sure sign to anyone with a brain that you are NOT getting a kiss or anything else) The company left a lot to be desired. He spent most of the meal talking about his ex, ranting about politics (he was VERY conservative. I am not- in fact I was surprised he agreed to go on an interracial date by the way he ranted), and how he shouldn't have to support anyone but himself. I didn't get a word in edgeways, not that I tried too hard.

During a pause for breath, I mentioned that I needed to leave soon as I was due in to work in 20 minutes. (not true, but I needed an excuse and forgot to arrange for the fake emergency call. What? Like you've never done that) Waved the server down for my check- I DID pay for my own meal- and left him there to finish the food he'd barely touched while he was ranting.

C called me a few hours later, laughing. My erstwhile date had called him and said I seemed pretty cool and we'd be going out again soon. "When he told me that he was surprised you'd ordered onion rings on a first date, I knew he'd blown it even if he didn't. Are you really going out with him again?"

Um, no. In fact I was surprised to hear that he thought we would. He did call me later that night and tell me that I seemed like I'd be laid back and not demanding (ok, maybe C & B didn't describe me that well...LOL) or a gold digger (that part was right), so he'd be up for another date. I told him I appreciated the thought, but just didn't feel a connection, so maybe it was better not to see each other any more. "Oh," he said. "In that case, bye!"

And that was that.

Bad Dates 2: The First Blind Date

Shortly after I moved to Kentucky, one of my classmates at culinary school asked if she could set me up with a friend of a friend. Since I was trying to embrace a new phase of my life, I said yes. The first warning sign should have been the fact that all communication was done through my classmate.

Since I wasn't crazy about giving my home address out to a stranger, I offered to meet him at the Books-A-Million cafe. (you think I'd have learned to avoid anything to do with that place and dates) M told me that she'd given him a rough idea of what I looked like and that I had a dominant personality. (remember that) All she told me about him was that he was tall.

So, date day arrived. I got to the cafe early, ordered a drink and settled down at a table to wait. it didn't take long. I heard someone say "oh my lord" and a few snickers, and I knew without turning around that this was going to be my date. Sure enough, this figure walks over and stands at attention beside me. Dressed in head to to black latex. He was tall, I'll give M that much. About 6'5 and weighed about 100 lbs. (not a typo) And he apparently took "dominant personality" to mean something entirely different.

"Hello, mistress!" Gulp. "I've been a bad boy...will you punish me?" *facepalm*

The people sitting around this spectacle were gawking and starting to snicker. I quickly jumped up, told him there had been a mistake, and practically flew out the door. Jumped into my car, burned rubber backing out of that lot at 90 m.p.h., and fled home. Called M, screaming, when I got home. She spent the next 6 weeks apologizing and doing my dishes in class.

Bad Dates- Story 1

Part of the "Why I Am Still Single" series, here is a look at some of the worst dates I have ever been on:


One outstanding memory is from my time working at Books-A-Million, back in NC. We had several  semi-creepy regulars, some of whom kept trying to get dates with the female staff. (And on one memorable occasion, one of the male staff members) Two of them were good matches for me IN THEORY as we had several interests in common. However, they had zero social skills and as superficial as it sounds, were both kind of odd looking. (Like I'm a real prize, but still they just didn't do it for me)

Anyway, one of them, who I shall call Wolfie (as he was on a werewolf kick when we met), came into the store a lot. One of my coworkers, A, warned me about him. She'd given in and gone on a date with him shortly before I started working there and said it was the longest night of her life. So I made a point of keeping our conversations brief, yet friendly, and heading him off at the pass whenever he started veering into "will you go out with me territory?"

We were doing a scanning inventory of the store, which meant going shelf by shelf, scanning barcodes, and pulling out any titles the chain wanted to discontinue. It was my turn to scan and I was on my knees working on a low shelf of art books. (and cursing a blue streak under my breath) Wolfie came in, asked a coworker where I was, and proceeded to come stand over me as I worked, yapping away. I wasn't entirely paying attention to the conversation as I WAS WORKING, so my end mostly consisted of the occasional "uh-huh" and "Sure." Until I heard him say "Great! When should I pick you up?"

WHAAAAAAA? I looked over at the service desk and 3 of my coworkers were doubled over laughing. Apparently one of my absent minded "sures" was in answer to the date question. DAMN.

Since there was no graceful way to get out of it without being an utter cow (I am sometimes a nice-ish person), I decided to bite the bullet and go ahead with it. Also, I knew I was moving to Kentucky in a few weeks weeks, so it's not like there was a chance of any further dates. I flatly refused to give him my address- I told him I'd meet him at the store- but relcutantly gave him my phone number.

When he called later, we discussed ideas and went with the classic first date combo of dinner & a movie. We both liked Chinese, so I said any restaurant but the one where I'd gotten my first (and worst) case of food poisoning would be fine. We were both Godzilla fans, and he wanted to go see that, but I told him I'd already seen it with my brother (true) and didn't like it enough to go again, so we agreed on something else.

Date night came, and I reluctantly went to BAM to meet him. I got there at 6 on the dot. Wolfie was on the payphone as I walked up to the building. He saw me, hung up in mid sentence and snapped "You're late!" Um, we'd agreed on 6. (I found out later that he'd started calling my house at 5:45 and was arguing with my dad about my whereabouts until I got there & he hung up) Not a good sign.

We went to his car, and the first issue came up. We had driven past 2 very good Chinese places and I realized we were heading toward the ONE restaurant I had said I would not eat in. I tried to tactfully make that point, and he said "But it's my favorite place and it's cheap!" Um, oooookay. Sure enough, that's where we went. I had a glass of terrible iced tea and watched him eat. No conversation, just him shoving food into his mouth like he hadn't eaten in a month. Our server came over during one of his 6 trips to the buffet and whispered "Good luck honey, he's a cheap bastard that doesn't tip."

He didn't tip either, despite the fact that he kept our server busy refilling his drink and demanding she go tell the kitchen they needed to add various dishes to the buffet. I surreptitiously left a couple of dollars on the table and he actually picked them up and pocketed them.

Issue number 2 came up in the parking lot. He said "We're going to see Godzilla!" I said no, I'd seen it and would prefer to see almost anything else. "But I had my heart set on that movie!" I suggested that he drop me off back at the bookstore and go see it himself. I mentioned that I'd rather see King Kong Vs Godzilla than the movie in theaters at the moment. He accused me of making the movie up. I told him it was a real movie, and he should look for it at the movie section of Wal-Mart the next time he was there. So he insisted on going to WallyWorld right then to see if I was right. Bought himself a copy, and then he wanted to go back to his place and watch it. "And my roommate's gone, so we'll be alone!" Oh no. Not me, not tonight.

Issue 3- Since I wouldn't go to the movie he wanted to see, and I wouldn't go back to his place, we needed to find something to do. (I was mentally pleading with him to take me back to my car) So off to the local indie record store we went. Just my luck, a former coworker was working there and was on duty when we dropped by. J grabbed my arm and hissed "What are you doing with that freak?" I hissed back that I was on the date from hell and would appreciate any assistance he could offer to get me out of it. We were in that damned store for 4 hours. Wolfie had to look at EVERYTHING. And criticize the music I was looking at. The only reason we left is becasue they were closing.

At that point, I thanked him for an interesting evening and insisted he take me back to my car. He said we should go clubbing since it was too late to go to the movies. I told him I needed to be at work early the next day, so I really needed to go home. (not a lie, actually)

He tried to follow me home- I shook him off in a residential area that was maze-like and hard to get out of unless you knew where you were going. I walked into the house and my dad informed me that if that fool ever called and argued with him again SOMEBODY was going to get their feelings hurt. I told him that I wasn't going out with the fool again and he could feel free to make things up if he was insane enough to call.

Don't you know he called 3 more times that night? 2 in the morning and he calls. (Dad had a great deal of fun with that) Then he showed up at the store when we opened to ask when we were going to go out again. Never, that's when.

And they let these idiots have guns why??? -or- Why I Should NEVER Sign Up To Work Overtime

It snowed here last night. This produced the usual panic in the streets and the grocery store shelves were instantly denuded of bread & milk. (We got maybe 1-2 inches, so clearly NOBODY was going to be able to get out to the stores *eyeroll*) It also had the added benefit of making it a slow night for me as even the criminals freak out and stay in when it snows.

Since there's still snow on the ground (but not the streets), I was kind of hoping for another slow day at the office for the OT shift I stupidly signed up for. It probably will be slow for the rest of the night, but I just had a trio of chuckleheads come in and send my blood pressure through the roof.

Chucklehead 1 comes in with 2 cell phones that he says are evidence, and some personal property for the same suspect. No problem. Knock that out, wish him a good afternoon. He tells me that he's waiting for his partners, Chuckleheads 2 & 3. OH NO. Chucklehead 2 is the same idiot from an earlier post who tried to tell me I'd mistaken a cell phone for an MP3 player and dragged his Sgt down here to yell at me, only to get chewed out himself when it was revealed that I HAD done my job correctly and he was a moron.

2 & 3 show up. C2 proceeds to tell me how everything I just put in for C1 was wrong & I need to fix it. 1 phone should have gone in as personal property, the other should have been evidence under another suspect. C1 & 3 take one look at my now murderous expression and back away, slowly, while C2 keeps flapping his yap. I open the door, grab C1, hand him a release form and tell him to fill it out for the phone they're giving back. This is the easiest way to fix things since it's already in the system. Otherwise I'd have to request a deletion from IT (which usually takes days) and re-enter both phones on new slips.

I asked C2, who was still telling me how I should have done things, to give me the name for the person whose phones is being kept as evidence. He told me it was "hers" and started talking about something else. WHO IS SHE? is what I needed to know. "The girl that was with the guy." Give me a name & address or I'm going to just kill you now and be done with it. Finally manage to get that and then he proceeds to tell me again how the other phone should be personal property of the original suspect. We're done with that, idiot. Shut Up.

Now they've got more evidence to put in on the same suspects. Chucklehead 2 tells me that I need to put both their names on it. We have been using this stupid, inefficient computer system for 5 years. It does not allow us to put more than one name on a property record, and we have this conversation EVERY FREAKING TIME this asshat comes in. I proceed to ignore him and ask C3 which name they want put on the record. He opts for the male suspect.

Among the evidence being put in is money....which is short from what is on the log sheet.  Since I tend to be bad at numbers due to my dyslexia, I count everything twice before I tell someone there's an error. (if I get the same number twice I call myself lucky) I tell them this and they tell me to count again. I count it again and it's still off by $30. C2 tells me I have mistaken a $20 for the lone $10 bill that should be there. I point out that there is no $10 bill in the stack. C3 tells 2 to shut up and go check the car...and is ignored, so he goes and looks for himself. Sure enough, it's out there. He brings it in, everything adds up, I finish my entries, package the stuff, give them their printouts and try to send them on their merry way before I totally lose it.

Chucklehead 2 isn't finished yet. (1 has fled to the car, recognizing the signs of my impending explosion) "You didn't put both suspects on the sheet."

KABOOM

I called that fool everything but a child of God. Chucklehead 3 quickly grabbed the envelopes with the drugs & money, threw them in the drop and frog-marched C2 out the door...only to come back a second later and sheepishly tell me he'd thrown them both in the same drop and could I please let the bosses know so they can fix it on Monday? (They go in separate drops- my bosses deal with the money, but only the narcotics techs can get into the drug drop) Am I surprised? No.

Where Do They Come From & Why Do They ALL Find Me?

Just had the world's dumbest woman come into the office. She called 4 times from the parking lot, trying to find out how to get into the building. Then she stood there at the door and called 3 more times. I couldn't answer the phone because I was tied up on another idiot call, so she called dispatch. They called to tell me that she was outside and I needed to go let her in. I told them to tell her to put her hand on the door handle and fucking well pull it and if she was too stupid to open a door she didn't need her frigging laptop back. Then she calls FROM THE LOBBY and says she doesn't know where to go. I told her to look for the door DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF HER WITH THE BIG RED SIGN THAT SAYS "PUBLIC ENTRANCE"




Seriously, how do some of these people manage to make it from day to day?!?