I just need to talk. And talk. And talk.

As god is my witness, I'm half-tempted to delete the whole damn Magnificent Octopus and email her the "Final" verson, reading: "Once upon a time, there was a lovely little sausage called Baldrick, and it lived happily ever after."

Grr. I'm taking a break. I worked the morning at Eviljob, and since then I've been pulling more research and typing.

I know my Octopus isn't perfect, but it doesn't suck that badly, especially considering I've stayed out of her hair like she wanted, and did it all myself.

As for the study that doesn't exist, I've spent today confirming, in fact, that it doesn't exist. According to my advisor, who I can only surmise read a passing reference or skewed synopsis of it in an old textbook of hers perhaps (she emailed me over 24 hrs later with the names after I'd emailed her, explaining that I'd looked back to 1992 under more keywords than I care to think about and found nothing), it was (sort of like) Twarkmargit and Flarkbottom, 1971. Ok; so I look up Twarkmargit and Flarkbottom as authors, and in their short relationship together, they've authored exactly two things, neither of which are what my advisor said is this Landmark Study That Everyone Who's Anyone But Ancodia Has Heard Of.

No, Twarkmargit and Flarkbottom aren't their real names.

I live in absolute fear that someone I know will read this. I keep my complaining to myself (though that may be hard to imagine from reading this), and prefer less-confrontational modes of...confrontation. Ummm..whatever. You know what I mean. My cunning plan now is to just get this over with and quietly leave. Not the program, just leave to another advisor. I think I can do it, I just have to do it quietly. Quietly suits me best. After this is over, I'll still work with my group over the Summer, because otherwise I don't have the income to keep the Tribe in the manner to which they have become accustomed, but after that, I can try to pick up an Assistantship for Fall, and look into getting assigned to someone else. But I don't want to author anything else for this group, previously known as Stupidjob.

There are a few nice people in Stupidjob. One is really young (to be in this program), but really bright. His Nom de Blog is Doogie Howser. He's started his own company, and what's funny is that it is doing really well in...::drumroll::...India. As of the last month, some magazine in India that has a circulation up in the tens or hundreds of thousands contacted him to ask if they could include his product and a favourable review. So he's doing ok, just not in the money department yet; hopefully that's going to change when the Indian magazine does its special issue that includes his company. I wish him the best, and he's had his share of problems with our advisor, enough that he's planning on quitting the program.

Yes, I'm trying to talk to him about that decision.

Another nice person is The Really Cute Guy. Yeah...from one of my classes. Did I mention that he was beautiful? And nice? How about funny? Kind? Ok, I'm sure I didn't mention the unbelievably sexy eyes he has, and the really nice smile. I hate sitting next to RCG, because I want to kiss him. A lot. He's the kind of person it's not hard to imagine kissing; you know, like in movies where they stare into each other's eyes and just...kiss? Except that if I did that, he'd probably not take to it, for the simple reason that I did it. My luck runs that way. RCG isn't around much, but then again he's not getting a full amount of hours, so he's not supposed to be around a lot. Plus, his real advisor is someone else, and he's technically in another (similar) department. One of the benefits of my not saying much is that I don't look whiny in front of RCG. Sigh...a girl can have fantasies, can't she? Most of mine that contain RCG involve begging him to let me kiss him. See? I'm even polite in my fantasies. Ok; truth is, I'm too embarrassed to be able to really fantasize about him, though I'd go down on him in--what's faster than a nanosecond?--if he as much as hinted. Ok, that's not true; I'd not do it because I'd be too scared I'd misinterpreted the hint and would get rebuffed with an "are you kidding?" So let's say if he flat-out asked. He's just too...I don't know. Not that it matters. With my luck, he's probably gay. Or hates pale redheads; there's a lot of those out there. His Dream Girl is probably a tanned, toned, blonde, and loud airhead, if it isn't someone named Mike. In other words, not Ancodia. See? I'm used to the way cookies crumble; I'm adaptable. And ok with it, rilly.

Butsoanyway.

Another nice one is Scooter. Scooter is gay, and he's funny. He's not really concerned about anything deeply, and so if someone starts to hassle him about something, he just says "Who cares? Do whatever you want." Getting dismissed like that shuts Sophie and Fluffernut up fast. Nastypants, I think, is intimidated by him because he knows a lot about certain areas--he's kind of a specialist. So no one really bothers him, and he bothers no one. Scooter's kind of like my big brother in the program, and I'm happy with the pick. If he were more involved, he might have been able to warn me more, but on the other hand, I never talked to him about it, and he's very much a "hands off" kind of person; Scooter won't lead anyone but himself unless you directly ask him to. Well, no, beg him to. And then remind him. :-) And I didn't know to, and now is too late. So it's not Scooter's fault, it's mine. If I needed something desperately, I could call him, I think, though I've never done it,and probably would never. I'm not the kind of person who calls anyone for help, ever. Which is probably why Scooter gave me his cell phone number--because he knew I'd never use it. :-)

There are a few other nice personages in there, and we might be getting yet another guy who seems sweet and is also cute, and is behind me academically, but is older than me and funny, so that would be cool over the Summer. Maybe I could steal him as an assistant, and teach him how to actually properly conduct research.

Ok...the mechanism operating here is lust being channelled into acting motherish. I know this. I'm like this. But it works out best for everyone, including me. He'd learn a lot that (trust me on this one) would otherwise not be mentioned to him, anyway. So it's not all selfish. And that way, I wouldn't have to work with Miss Nastypants, Sophie, or Fluffernut McWhinymuffin.

Miss Nastypants is the one I've written about a lot before--the one who tries to antagonise the caffinettes at upscale coffee shops, whose favourite topic is herself...yeah--that one. Her lessons for this lifetime are definitely Humility, Patience, and Charity. God help you if she perceives you as beneath her. I personally think she's a vacuous bitch, but that's just me. I'm also aware that my strong reaction to her might be because she does so very very much blow her own horn...constantly. When I was growing up, the most frequently asked question in my household was "who do you think you are to ...(insert anything Ancodia wanted to do here)?" In other words, I grew up with no sense of entitlement whatsoever. To anything. As a result, I put up with amazing amounts of shit from people, and never say anything about it. As a result, I attract even more people with amazing amounts of shit to dump. And so on. Which is why I'm in this situation with my Magnificent Octopus, among other things. Anyone with any sense of entitlement would have called their advisor out for not keeping meetings and promises a long time ago. Or switched advisors, or something else. So perhaps I resent or even envy her overpowering sense of entitlement. I'm trying to be fair here. But my point is that Nastypants IMHO, is a raging bitch, who fits the "princess" stereotype. ...a princess fit to rule some very tiny, underpriviledged third world country, that is.

Ok, I have my nasty moments too.

Sophie is a know-it-all, but in a more quiet way than Nastypants. Not in talking *quantity*, but in *volume*. She wants to be thought of as this Really Brilliant Genius Geek Girl, but she tries too hard. I mean, she wants to insert her brilliant opinion about everything, and if she doesn't like you (like she doesn't me), she'll try to trip you up (she thinks she's tripping you up--really most of the time she is trying to relate it to something that doesn't apply), and she tries to talk in this affected way that is hard to describe--kind of fast, and in a tone of voice that implies she's confused and too busy to put up with your dumb opinions. The style of talking she has I think is kind of stereotypical of geek girls, kind of like how every woman in the 40's would imitate Katharine Hepburn's style of delivery. Kind of like...what's her name...Jennifer Jason Leigh in that movie...not Hudsucker Proxy, I don't think, but one like it. Or maybe it was... I know I could go to imdb.com, but I'm tired of researching anything right now. :-) Pathetic, I know. But anyway, Sophie puts too much of her effort into wanting to appear weird and bright and intelligent and with-it in a geeky way. I think she's seen movies in the same genre as Real Genius too many times. When she and Nastypants get together, it's worthy of a migraine. Really. And that's without going into the other silly stuff she does, like wanting to sit in our office in the dark, listening to some weird beeping stuff. And I love techno, I like weird things, I even bought the shortwave numbers stations CDs. I'm cool with weird, as long as it has a point. but this was just silly, like she was just waiting for someone to walk in and catch her being so ultra-cool. I wanted to apologise to her for not having a movie camera to capture her brilliance with; she sure acts like she's expecting it. In sum, Sophie = Just Shoot Me. :-)

Fluffernut McWhinymuffin is not friends with anyone. Not me, not Doogie, not Sophie...no one. She hates us all. Except for our advisor. Fluffernut is ahead of all of us (year-wise), and thinks we're stupid. Fluffer is a Very Serious Person. And when we have our group meetings, anyone who criticises Fluffernut (and ANY comment to Fluffernut other than "How brilliant! You've done a great job!" is criticism) is in for it. She makes faces like she's constipated, or smelling a litterbox, rolls her eyes, makes exasperated huffing noises, tosses her hair--all while you're talking, not even listening to what you're saying. I found this out at our very first meeting, and almost never came back. Then other people told me not to pay attention to Fluffer, and then I saw her do it to others, so now I just ignore her. And don't comment. Fluffer is also The Most Important Person In The Room (in case you didn't know), and this causes her to clash with Nastypants a lot, and Sophie occasionally. Ages ago, one of my entries here was about going out to dinner with some of our group, including Nastypants and Fluffernut; I called it (if I remember correctly) the Attack of the Drama Queens and Attention Pigs. It was horrible. Anything you can do, Fluffernut McWhinymuffin's done better. Anything you've had go wrong, Fluffernut's had it worse. I am desperately in hopes that Fluffer will find it in her to pass our qualifiers and graduate...quickly. Very, very quickly. Fluffer (and I've nicknamed her Fluffernut simply because it would be So Very Offensive to her were she to know--she's much too serious and accomplished to be called a Fluffernut, and McWhinymuffin because she IS one...she whines.) looks like she should be majoring in Feminist Studies, or something like that. And I have nothing against feminists, for the most part. But, have you ever noticed that all of them look like they are wearing a uniform? Unbrushed hair, often a bandanna around it like a kerchief, no makeup, shapeless shirt or tank top, jeans or hiking shorts, and earth shoes or hiking boots or somesuch, and often a fanny pack, bum bag, whatever you call it. Go ahead and tell me they're not prejudiced and stereotyping themselves--if they really were all-accepting, where's the feminists with the fluffy hair, makeup, and pink frilly skirts with fuck-me pumps? Huh? That's what I mean--they're prejudiced. If you like dressing like that, you're not "serious"; you're not a "real" feminist. Huh? Okay. Well, that's Fluffernut, except with her it's more of an "intellectual" thing than a "feminist" thing''. The whole "I was too busy Thinking (with a capital T) to care a whit about my appearance, and if you care, it's 'cos you're Shallow (with a capital S)." I think she dislikes me because I wear makeup. :-) Or because I don't consult her on everything. As if. Dream on, Fluffer.

So that's mostly the group I work with at Stupidjob. My other job (Eviljob) I've had for a few years, and only keep it because it gives me health insurance and a feeling of accomplishment. Oh--and more money to spread amongst the Tribe. Plus, like I would be doing anything productive with my weekends and the few weekday hours I spend there anyway. So Eviljob is kind of my "spare time". Yep, in my spare time, I hang out with corporate dweebs and throw fish, read books about time-management, and write emails that use a lot of hyphenated words like "action-dependent", "growth-focused", "learning-enabled outcomes",and so forth. After all these years, I'm actually very good at making up hyphenated words. I hope that doesn't go out of style any time soon.

And I don't mean a bleeding word of it. That's the best part of Eviljob. And no one at Eviljob has any idea.

Eviljob is Mostly Harmless. True, it's annoying at times to put up with the stupidass bureaucratic bullshit, and true, it's corporate atmospheres like Eviljob that "represent all that is soulless and wrong" (from Office Space), and, true again, companies like Eviljob probably herald the End of Western Civilisation. But hell...it was gonna end sometime anyway, right? Right. So what the hell. There are worse ways to go. I mean, fire...it burns; ice is cold. Being crushed under a mountain of triplicate forms just so you can get a new stapler, well...at least it's not burny or chilly. And we have ok coffee, so there's always that.

I have some work-friends at Eviljob. They're ok people. I don't think they *mean* to be all soulless and wrong. But they get awfully excited about Franklin Covey Solutions (it's not a planner, it's a frickin' solution) , PDAs, and stuff like that. I'm not sure I would get along with them like, on a night out on the town. I can't even really picture most of them dressed in anything less than "business casual". And that's only on Fridays, Love. Sigh. :-) My work-friends at Eviljob think I'm funny 'cos I forget to dress down, but in reality, it's too much work for me to remember. Yeah...I'm that stupid. :-) But they like me 'cos I write good letters of rec, I help out with resumes and stuff, and don't ever compete or get into anyone's way there. And I listen to kvetches and never repeat them, never sandbag, or anything that's negative engergy stuff. And I don't pep talk. I just mostly listen, and maybe tell a joke or story to entertain if I think it's appropriate. Fact is, I could probably disappear tomorrow, and the only people that would notice are the cleaning staff. Ancodias are invisible that way.

At least, after all these years, I know what it will be like to be stuck on the Golgafrincham B-Ark. In case you're worried, it could suck worse. The coffee will probably be ok.


And, of course, there are Cute Guys at Eviljob. One in particular. I haven't seen him in a few weeks though, because I only see him in the halls anymore. About a year or year and a half ago, I kind of realised I was liking him too much, so I changed how I leave my office for breaks and stuff. I used to go down the back stairs to avoid everyone and cut through another department (his), and after accidentally talking to him a few times, I started talking to him *every* time I would go on break. That's three times a day, if I don't cheat and say I went on break when I didn't, which I do sometimes. And I've already established that I am not normal with who I think is cute, so he's not (who is hot? I forget. One of my friends at work has a mad crush on Johnny Depp, so let's say Johnny Depp) Johnny Depp, but he's cute to me. He's a supervisor in this other department, and he's probably somewhere in his forties (ok, so I like much older guys, generally), greying hair, a few extra pounds, and so forth. But he's (there's that combo again) kind and funny.

Now I have not ever really dated a guy who was the kind-and-funny type. I figure there has to be a reason for this. Plus, I retired from dating and things. I figured a while ago that that would be best because no one nice ever really liked me anyway (as in wanting to keep me, or date me seriously, or even date me at all), and I got hurt pretty badly (emotionally and physically), which would be something I would rather just forget about, and plus when you get with someone, there's so much to have to worry about, like if they are thinking about you the same way you are thinking about them (e.g., not cheating on you, or wanting to), if they have some weird tropical disease, if they are going to get embarrassed or pissed off at you and dump you or hit you, and so on. All the beautiful parts of life.

But one of the drawbacks of being me is that I still am a very "touchy-feely' kind of person, even though I touch people exactly never anymore. Well, almost never; sometimes I do it sneakily. :-) I mean like touching someone's arm or hand, or something, as a natural part of conversation--they don't notice it as being weird. And no one touches me. But the inclination is there. I think about it a lot sometimes; other times, I can block it out and not think about it. But it's basically ok because the guys I have dated weren't "touchy-feely" kinds of people, and so I am not sure I would have the guts to actually successfully touch someone again for real. I mean, one time I actually got my hand hit and a sharp "quit it!" just because I touched a boyfriend's hair. Ok, in fairness, I was only lightly touching a lock on the back side, and that might have been annoying, but I did it that way because he had complained that I "always messed up his hair". In life, nothing is "always" or "never"; I had just felt his hair a few times. He was one with a lot of rules. He also didn't want me to touch his face, which hurt my feelings at first, then I just decided was him being weird. The only thing I *was* allowed to do was give a massage, and only a certain way, blah, blah. blah. Like I said--rules, rules, rules. Not that I'm disrespectful of others' wishes, but... This was just stuffy. I had stuffy at home, growing up; I don't need it now. So I thought for a while that maybe I would find someone who didn't mind if I did it so much at least sometimes, and then I realised all those people weren't interested in me, and were probably with other people anyway. Which has made me kind of confused and sad, because a few guys I know who I think would be ok or even happy with a girl that was like that are with some strange girls. Not that I really have the right to think about anyone who is with someone else, and I don't in truth, but some things are hard to not notice. So I don't think of being with anyone who is with someone, or doing anything with them, because I don't have the right to, I just notice in a general way, and usually only because they talk to me about it. So I figure that maybe my problem is that I'm not strange or neurotic enough. Or strange and neurotic in the right way, at least. The whole thing I don't understand, so I just stay away from all of it. Things are better that way. I can do all my stuff, become rich and successful, and pay someone to let me touch them. :-) Like I'd ever have the guts to ask for that, either. But I could.

So in short, I don't really have anything to offer anyone who is kind and funny. Not RCG at Stupidjob, not Mr Supervisorperson at Eviljob, no one. I'm not going to date them; they probably wouldn't want me to anyway, and to people like them, I probably seem depressing and too quiet and if I did talk for real, I would seem too concerned about daily mundane stuff or stupid school stuff that means nothing, or maybe someone like RCG would think I was two-faced and materialistic for doing what I do at Eviljob, and Mr Supervisorperson would think I was silly for staying in school and hanging around some of the ding-dongs at Stupidjob, or would be shocked and dismayed to find out that I think that a "decision-based principle" or "commmunication-equivalent medium" is something to giggle about when one's door is closed. I don't know. Yeah, I just made both of those up, too. I need to remember the "communication-equivalent medium" one, though; I can use that tomorrow. :-)

So I just quit wasting his time, basically. It meant too much to me, and probably nothing to him. That's how I think of it. I mean, I have never intended to stay at Eviljob. I'm wasting his time. The way Eviljob works is that he goes from Supervisor to Manager to Director, so he's got his life all set, game plan down, all that good stuff. What can I contribute to that? Nothing. Nothing at all. And he probably knows that. But he has a really nice smile, and really cute arms. Yeah, arms. It was when I noticed that that I decided that I needed to not detour his way anymore. Just goes to show you--roll up your shirtsleeves and, well, it's the Victorian libertine in me.

I have never, ever, EVER said that I was anything but pathetic. And stupid.

So we still email back and forth, but I don't drop by because I was getting a crush on him. And as far as I know, he's looking for some beach bunny type, or a nice girl named Mike, too. All I know is that he's not married currently--he's divorced. Though he could consider breaking up with someone named Mike a "divorce", too; you never know. I noticed from some things he said. See? PATHETIC.

I was going to work more on my Magnificent Octopus, but I just don't feel like it. When I feel like this and don't work, I always feel like I am being so lazy and self-indulgent, and I hate that. I wish it were ok to take a day off and go to the mall with a friend, or something like that, but it wouldn't matter anyway, 'cos there's no one I could really go with that wouldn't be talking about work, or would I lend some money, or can I borrow your car, or let me tell you about my faboo boyfriend, or something that I just didn't feel like dealing with. And I don't mind going places alone--in fact, I usually do--but...I just don't want to right now. I think I'm getting depressed.