Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Ready to leave

No, seriously; I am. After I get finished moving, I am going to hit another round of applying. I am back to hating it here. Sometimes it seems like TG tries to go out of his way to convince me that I don't matter at all. He stopped by my desk last night as he was leaving (despite the fact that I was in the middle of something and never bother *him* during work) and asked that I phone him when I left. So I did, and he has his son for the week, so he practically hung up on me after telling me he was busy, as if this were just a drill to demonstrate that I don't matter. I gave him my standard 'sounds great, have fun, talk to you later, ::click::', which apparently isn't the 'right' reaction, because he phoned back twenty minutes later, only now he had time to talk. Go figure. So, to hopefully bring home the point that this is either 50/50 or by MY schedule, I did the Last Action Hero schtick ('uh-huh, uh-huh, yeah, yeah, uh-huh') until he decided to go. I had a shitty day yesterday, my attitude sucked, and a good part of it was because of the Monday night total bullshit he pulled.

This really bothered me because in my world, one doesn't treat someone they care about like that, ever. I do not need family, friends, lovers, or co-workers who do not fight on my behalf; a true friend, again, would have started from the perspective of partnering and protecting, as *I* do. Even if it's an issue of opinion or perspective, starting from the 'ooh! Here's my chance to beat into the ground!' is not acceptable. Behaviour like he has exhibited makes me wonder how he intends to act were I to, say, take him to a panel discussion where my opinions are the unpopular or non-traditional ones (which is often the case); supporting me or shutting up are options. Jumping into the fray and trying to get slaps in because everyone else is? Ummm...not so much of an option.

Butsoanyway, I have to go teach. I will get over this, it just feels like a betrayal and has really hurt my feelings.

And I have a nose/throat infection that is a holdover from TG getting me sick, and I just cannot seem to kick it.

I am going to do something nice for myself; I bought some demi-permanent hair dye and may get a blouse, skirt, or something if I can find something nice on clearance after class.

In Other News, I have found some awesome new (old) community cookbooks, and I am really excited about that. I tried to share what I'd found with TG, but he couldn't give a fuck less, just like he couldn't be bothered to even send a supportive text for yesterday or today.

Today is going to be rough. Sigh. And I have to get moving; more about my cool ass cookbooks, since you, Blog, is the only one who gives a fuck.

- Posted using SomeBlogApp that I don't know how to use. o_O

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Getting backed up...

On drafts, I mean. This happens periodically. Once I figure out how to un-draft these, I'll get on that.

I was so hurt and angry last night that there was nothing I could do but medicate and go to sleep. After two days of being really nice, This Guy completely blew that all to hell in two short hours. Fucking unbelievable.

I work, and in some respects live, in a highly competitive environment. It is stressful. One of my jobs involves essentially sitting in an academic shark tank, waiting for the next round of asshat to come by and attack. I work all day, virtually every day. In short, I don't get days off from being under siege in some way.

So after I get out late from Eviljob, since TG has been so nice for the past two days, I decide to skip dinner and drop by his house on the way home. When I get there, he ignores me at first, couldn't care less about what I am talking about (so I finally shut up), and then decides that we are going to talk about something in which I have a personal interest, and is somewhat related to my dissertation.

And then decides to fight with me over it.

Now, in fairness, this is essentially a stupid argument; as it turned out, both of us were misremembering different aspects of a movie series. But he royally ticked me off by rolling through one IMDB screen so fast that I could not read it (with the explanation that he 'scans really quickly'). Ummm...excuse me, don't I get to use technology to defend myself, as well? And last I checked, I had a pretty respectable reading level and graduate-level research skills. And instead of *partnering* with me -- operating from the assumption that I have a few working brain cells, and trying to investigate what I am talking about -- he goes on a crusade to prove me wrong, at one point even sticking his tongue out at me in a teasing 'I won, nyah!' way, as if I am just supposed to sit back and let someone beat the shit out of me emotionally and intellectually over a stupid fucking movie. So since I wasn't being allowed to use his computer, I went to my purse and pulled out my cell and started searching MY way. I found out in about two minutes that the problem was that I was misremembering the order of the trilogy we were discussing -- characters that I thought were in pts. one and three were in pts. one and two, and I was not remembering all of two. When I pointed out my mistake, he again declared himself the 'winner', despite his having misremembered/misattributed aspects as well.

So I gave up. Fine. You won. You have proved that I'm completely stupid. Yay. Go, You. ::applause::

So then he starts showing me other movies that he claims I'd like (not bothering to ask me what I DO like; he couldn't name a favourite movie of mine if you held a gun to his head), and finally I get a phone call and tell him I'm leaving. And all the while, I'm thinking, 'I actually skipped dinner for this?'

THEN -- as I am trying to leave -- only then does it become important to try to give me a hug and a kiss. Not when I show up. Not when I am sitting there, patiently listening. Not in apology for his behaviour immediately after not listening to me and going out of his way to demonstrate that I am wrong. No, showing any affection to me becomes important only as I am trying to leave after telling him earlier that I had work to do, and could only stay an hour-ish, and ended up staying two because I had to sit through a stupid argument that I wasn't even participating in, just trying to defend myself from the 'man, you are SO WRONG' attacks.

I think anyone who really cared about me and respected me would have operated from the assumption, as I did, that our memories may not be identical, but I don't talk out of my ass as a hobby, so there has to be something to what I am saying. I mean, *I* don't try to stomp people I care about into the ground and then gloat about it.

Fuck this shit...seriously.

- Posted using SomeBlogApp that I don't know how to use. o_O

Friday, April 22, 2011

Really quickly-like

I love you. I do. I have to sneak out of work and save a cat from Death Row, cos I got an adopter, but...

I can't comment on my comments with this app. I am app-stupid. I really don't know how to work this, and don't have time to figure it out. Butsoanyway. Turns out Sweetie *does* have an infection. Dr Superhero is in hospital from a spider bite (more on all of this later) and I saw the good dr who partners with him this time. Sweetie'd anal glands were impacted and gave her a bad case of vaginitis and he didn't check for a UTI but put her on cipro and gave her a shot and expressed her anal glands and put some antibiotic cream in her anal sacs or somewhere back there. He seemed pretty sure that if there wasn't a UTI yet, it was coming and the vaginitis and sore anal sacs is the cause of her peeing everywhere. so the shot and cipro will fix her up. cat vaginitis. I learn something new every visit. Go figure.'s my window to sneak out. Love you. Mean it.

- Posted using SomeBlogApp that I don't know how to use. o_O

Tuesday, April 19, 2011


Just checking to see if i can use my f'ing phone again with Blogger after this froyo update.

Good News (for once).

I have finagled summer employment teaching, with a way-higher stipend and perqs than I deserve.

What a relief.

Okay, now on to the kvetchy stuff:

I have a deadline I am afraid I won't make. I'm working on it. Bleurgh.

I also apparently shocked the hell out of This Guy when I didn't stay quiet and let him do what I have come to call 're-lecturing' me. As in he presents a point, I offer a solution, he rejects this solution because it requires . I say okay, because I am not in the horse business, whether it is leading them to water *or* trying to make them drink. He senses then that I know his objections are total crap, so he revisits how distressed he is over the situation, and how I Just Don't Understand, and this lament takes longer than the initial exchange. I have already given up, so I am writing, grading, filing my nails, or something else. He takes this silence as concession, and finally works it out of his system.

Well, tonight I just got tired of this same schtick over and over, and said that I am not going to discuss it further. That we had 'agreed to disagree' (his words), so drop it. This shocked the hell out of him. Then he tried to change the subject and ask if I'd heard about this Summer position, and I told him I had gotten it. Then he got upset 'cos I had not told him before; I reminded him that he had monopolised the conversation with his diatribe (the one with no resolution, per him). Then I talked for a few minutes more and closed the call.

The bottom line is, I am tired of this. Anyone who knows me knows that my silence doesn't imply consent, it implies that I think the person is too neurotic, cowardly, stupid, incompetent, or simply unwilling to accept the input of others and take action. I do not communicate like a girl; I communicate more like a man in that I offer solutions to problems. What I am realising in my senescence is that people -- most people -- don't WANT a solution. They just want to vent or play victim; *I* am the one running my ass off to fix their broken messes to show them how to fix it. It has taken me years to get here, but I no longer do things like jump in with my Batman cape on when a coworker tells me that her car was towed because she didn't notice the County sticker on it because she doesn't drive it often, and now she doesn't have the money to bail her car out.

No, seriously. The Old Me would 'lend' (give) her the money, or phone the towing company (I have amazing negotiation skills) and work something out, or...something. I have learnt to instead say,'man...that sucks'.

I made the huge mistake of jumping in once last year with TG, and have vowed never again. Trust me: people find their way out of messes, and it makes them stronger. I just have to learn to keep my mouth shut and stop offering advice.

Boy, there are going to be some quiet-assed conversations ahead. Glad silence has never made me uncomfortable.

- Posted using SomeBlogApp that I don't know how to use. o_O

Monday, April 18, 2011

Home again...

I had fun. I still didn't get froyo installed on my stupid secondary phone, and I had a massive mindwipe out of sheer exhaustion on the way home and couldn't remember the word 'Tanakh' until I got home, but I loved the drive to and from with Meg, we talked about her research all the way there, and listened to religious radio and cracked jokes all the way back.

Sorry if you are offended by the thought of us ragging on religion, but it's fun for us. For what it's worth, I'm the biblical scholar between us. That should tell you enough; we basically MST3k the shows and songs, except for when we can get an Unshackled! show: then we just listen...and laugh. If you are of a (secular) mind to be entertained, you should check it out at unshackled-dawt-org.

They have downloadable .mp3s. :D

Now, in fairness, I actually know a respectable amount about a few religions; off the top of my head and in no particular order, I've been to Protestant services, Episcopal/Anglican services, Catholic mass, Unitarian services, Lutheran services, and Temple (and I was a Jobie and did a superbrief stint in RG if you are REALLY counting), and when I was twelve-ish, I read the KJV Bible from beginning to end (like for *comprehension*), and did the same again when I was about 19 - 22, and I've read a translated Torah once, and have read/studied all 613 mitzvot (and bristle at them being called 'commandments', which only means you don't get it -- this isn't xtianity, where everyone is getting ordered to do everything else Hell; it's 613 clear-as-day chances to be a good person and do right, and from their POV, it's never too late to start, or something you pay penance for, you just make up your mind to straighten up and fly right, and all is well...even though some of them are -- sorry -- stupid and/or hideously misinterpreted IMO), I don't even need to mention at this point knowing Noahide laws, and so on. From back a million years ago when Mummers was forcing me to xtian church (mainly cos my father thought it was stupid), I was made to learn a crapload of stuff by heart (I honestly don't remember the name or, believe it or not, the denomination except that I know it wasn't Catholic), but while the adults did... whatever, we didn't colour and play (which is what it sounds like some Protestant kidstuff is these days, at least maybe the Charismatics? I don't know), we memorised stuff. I still know a ton of crap by heart, only some stuff I know is different from what they are teaching now -- I learnt a different Apostles' Creed than what I've heard. I mean seriously -- when I first moved here, I took a roommate to be social and went to her church a few times (again, to be social), and when they said the AC, I was all like, 'WTF?? How can ALL of you be getting this wrong?' Oh, and I got the 'Are You a Whacko?' look from those sitting around us when I was there the first time and went off-script, per them. Did you know Jeebus *didn't* go to Hell? Well, if you're not me, you probably did. That's not a MINOR point, guys. Just sayin'. Eventually, I stopped going to any religious services even to be social (though I will still go to Unitarian or non-Orthodox Temple services if need be), and i prefer to not make any professions of faith cos I'm freaking LYING when I say it. And my Eviljob work wife, who is Baptist, says the wrong Apostles' Creed. Well, wrong according to me. And, I guess, Mummers. Though that's one of millions of things I never got around to asking her about, cos she said she was Methodist, even though she didn't go to Methodist church; when she went in later life, she went to Unitarian, Episcopal, and MCC. We never really talked about it, except in a genealogical sense (there's one of EVERYTHING in my family tree), so when Harry took info for her obituary (which ended up mangled beyond all recognition, but I just wasn't up to dealing at the time, so Harry just got the questions they needed and took my answers...which they then totally fucked up, from bio even down to name misspellings), I just told him to say she was Methodist, 'cos that's what *she* always said. So I don't know what religion she was trying to raise me as for a year or two, or what being Methodist meant (to her, I mean); maybe 'Methodist' just sounded neutral enough? I'll never know any of this. Stuff like that kills me inside, and I still think about and miss her every day, I just don't tell anyone to not sound demented or crazy.

So, moving on...

Then I came home to find Sweetie'd peed on my favourite blanket, so that's IT. She's going to the vet for a UTI re-check, and she still doesn't have one, she's going on fucking kitty Prozac, Thorazine, and anything else I can get him to prescribe. I cannot live with everything I possess getting urinated on, I don't care if she ends up so tranqued-out that I have to hand feed her, this ENDS. Grr!!

And no, giving her away is *not* the thing to do. She's annoying, but she's family, and she's hurting. This is the only way she has to either tell me she really *does* have a bladder infection, or she's missing Mom, hating the life changes, and unhappy.

Me, too, Cat. :-/

Oh, and Meg did well today, for those keeping score at home.

- Posted using SomeBlogApp that I don't know how to use. o_O

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Going Out

Spent yesterday afternoon with my father and stepmother, and got so depressed over hearing Mummers being called a crazy bitch over and over that Meg took me to the Rainforest Cafe after. After all this time, my father still isn't over the divorce. Neither was Mom. They hated each other.


Going over to see jackass...err...This Guy ended up getting me sick. While normally I am understanding if someone didn't know they were sick yet, and started spreading it around, that son of a bitch had the gall to say that *I* made *him* sick. This is totally at odds with the fact that he complained of feeling poorly one whole day before I felt it. I think *someone* is having a hard time understanding prodromal stages and chains of events. If he makes another comment, I'll tell him that he does not have to worry about my getting him sick ever again. An apology would have been nice, but I would even accept 'I didn't know'.

I hate stupid people.

I'm travelling South with Meg today, mainly to have a change of scenery.

- Posted using SomeBlogApp that I don't know how to use. o_O

Friday, April 15, 2011

I'm better.

I am still worried about my employment, but I have calmed down. And I received a letter about the recalled pet food settlement (finally!), and it looks like I will be getting back at least some of what I spent on Romeo. So...I'm okay.

And Meg's hair looks nice.

- Posted using SomeBlogApp that I don't know how to use. o_O

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Wish me luck.

Tomorrow I find out about a Summer position that I desperately need. Wish me luck, hmm?


On the speed-of-light commute between Job 2 and Eviljob, I stopped and bought a bottle of Kefir because I hadn't eaten anything yet.

Then I proceeded to throw it all over myself and my car as I was shaking it. No, seriously. I got to drink only about a quarter of the bottle, and had to race to Eviljob with poorly-cleaned kefir all over. Then I got out late from Eviljob, and stopped by to see This Guy. I ended up staying later than I'd wanted, and didn't want to pick anything up on the way home cos I don't need to be spending the money, and I needed to get my blouse in the wash, and the cats would get into anything I brought while I was getting a shower anyway. And I have literally nothing here to eat, because I suck at planning, and I am totally destitute. I'm fucking *starving*. This sucks.

Then Meg phones and is all like, 'I have a hair appointment tomorrow; want to come?' Um, no, I have no money and a job interview-thing, so I'll just pin my looking-like-shit hair up and hope circumstance and personality pull me through, Stylegoddess. Why don't you do something useful and order a pizza and send it over?

No one gives a damn about me, and even I sometimes have trouble mustering up a shit to give. Whatever. Let's just hope I get this job. Sigh.

- Posted using SomeBlogApp that I don't know how to use. o_O

More fun than...get that stick out of my face!

I am having a relatively good week. One of my many managers is pulling his typical MIA shite, but he's got one foot out the door anyway, so I won't let it frustrate me any longer; I'm stuck on a project, so I will just work around him...again.

This Guy (I may rename him Zaphod) is being okay. He has largely been letting me be to work, and he gave me a Caro Emerald CD that I've been desperately wanting, but couldn't work into the budget, seeing as how I may be tap-dancing for Summer employment. More on that later. But TG has been better-ish. He's still self-absorbed a lot of the time, and I HATE how I feel as if I'm not being listened to, and I HATE how I feel that he doesn't care enough to get to know me. But I've had a hard time over the past couple weeks, and he flat-out asked me what he could do to help, so I told him he could leave me alone and give me that CD, and he did. I hate asking for things, it's not like me, but apparently if I don't demand, he won't do; this is the first 'real' present I've gotten. But I won't waste my time complaining.

At least not now. Later.

I had thought I'd been okay with the speutering at Eviljob, but one of my cats turned up for dinner full of what will be more Easter Squooshables, so...shit, fuck, damn, piss, hell. It never ends. Guess what I'll be doing in a few months? Sigh.

I had dinner with some coworkers last night (I know...I just got done telling you I'd not been spending time with TG, but whatever; I'm a shitty girlfriend, and he's a non-stellar boyfriend. We're made for each other), and considering all that I am going through at Job 1, I couldn't help but be a little jealous. I basically got shunted into a less-than-productive work group (sure, my own complacence played a role there), and so hearing about how wonderful everyone else is when I am wallowing in my own mediocrity was..meh. I'm happy for them, but hey; I can be truthful here, right? Okay; so I has a jelis. :-/

I should be working, but I am taking the morning off because I am simply tired. With the ton of deadlines I have had over the past couple weeks, I had to teach unprepared yesterday. I did a kick-ass job (solely because I know the subject matter like the back of my hand and can ramble on and add Fun Facts at will), but it was a tiring lecture followed by margaritas and envy. So I'll get back on the work horse in a few hours.

All the emotional upheaval in my world has caused my 'new' cat -- Mummers' cat, Sweetie -- to start having behavioural issues. She's taken to peeing everywhere *but* the damned litter box, and it's driving me crazy. I know she is acting out, but I wish she had picked something more tolerable, like alcoholism or cutting. Grr. I have had to throw every pair of shoes I own into the washing machine, and it seems like all I do anymore is clean up cat piss and wash my feet. This just started a few months ago, and hopefully it will end soon. I've tried fussing, potching her on the butt, setting her in the litter box...and she just keeps peeing on my stuff. I know she's upset, I know she misses Mom, I know she hates when humans aren't around, and I leave too much and for too long. She's scared and sad, but this is going to have to end. I just have to figure out how to get her to stop.

I also have to quit smoking. More on that later...more on everything later (promise), 'cos I really just want to spend an hour or two lying here in bed and staring at the wall in a bleak depression over the failure that is my life.

No, seriously.

So I schedule my nervous breakdowns. So fucking what?

- Posted using SomeBlogApp that I don't know how to use. o_O