My Own Basket

I have struggled with depression, anxiety, and anger my entire life. I was diagnosed my freshman year of college as having an anxiety disorder. My depression was so fierce that year that I was physically unable to sleep at night. I would sleep from about 5 in the morning till about 4 in the afternoon and repeat. I missed a lot of classes that year as one would expect living a nocturnal lifestyle.

They put me on zoloft. I transferred schools and started over.

The zoloft helped although I continued to deal with misplaced anger and a strong need to be surrounded by people. I am an extrovert and have been all of my life. I get energy from being around people unlike most introverts who get energy from being alone. I thought this was an okay way to live life and continued doing so. Until I met Dustin.

Dustin was a recovering alcoholic and a student at my second college (and what eventually became my alma mater). Dustin and I had a hard and fast romance. In total I believe we only dated for 7 months, but those seven months nearly left me dead.

I felt an overwhelming need for him. I allowed myself to put all of my eggs in his proverbial basket. Unfortunately his basket was full of his eggs and he seemed to drop my eggs a lot. I needed him to MAKE me happy. He needed addictions to make him feel human. All in all bad mix.

We eventually broke off our tumultuous and dangerous relationship leaving me in the psych ward and him off the wagon. I started having anxiety attacks at this time in my life. Hyperventilating, sweating, sobbing, out of control anxiety attacks. I had them conveniently enough when I wanted something from someone. If I wanted attention, affection, reactions, anything. I didn't know this at the time. All the doctors told me I had a real chemical problem and not to blame myself.

But the little girl inside knew what the truth was and she didnt admit it until today.

My dad who struggles with real depression and anxiety asked me what my anxiety attacks were like and how I got over them. That's when I said, "I decided to stop having them." He couldn't grasp how someone would do this and that is when I confessed that I believe that everytime I had them was for a reaction. I wanted to be held, or told that they loved me, or whatever it was. The reason I know this for sure is that several times during my "anxiety attacks" I would KNOW that I could stop if I wanted to. I also never had them alone... always when people were around preferably men who I had interest in or was dating.

I made a decision one day that I wouldn't use this manipulative stuff to get what I wanted anymore. This decision coincided with the beginning of my relationship with Mr. M. I didn't want these attacks to be the reason he said I love you or the reason he held me. I wanted him to do those things on his own, because that is the only true way.

When I first started dating Mr.M I saw that I was beginning to try and put my eggs in his basket. Mr. M did something very important when I first tried to reach my little egg filled hand into his basket and drop one in. He put the lid on it. Closed it... sealed it tight. From the beginning his stance was, "I don't MAKE you happy, YOU make you happy." At first I thought this was insanity! What do you MEAN you don't make me happy! You're my boyfriend! It's your JOB to make me happy.

Then I realized I had to live with myself when I was alone. On the weekends Mr. M works and I have to be alone all weekend. At first... I of course was myself... and dreaded the weekends. What will I do with my time? How can I ensure that I'm never alone for longer than a half hour? Who can I call? How can I schedule every last minute.

Then ... I got pissed. I got pissed at myself for not learning how to be alone and feeling comfortable in my own skin. I took up hobbies and found classes. I began singing again. I learned how to decorate cakes and bake all kinds of goodies. I learned how to plant seeds and watch them grow into full plants.

It wasn't till today that I realized that I am the happiest I've been in my life. Mr. M is not the person who makes me happy but he is the man who showed me how to do it. He showed me how to be responsible for my own happiness and to take care of my own mental health. He taught me that being happy is my responsibility and my duty to myself and my family/friends.

I finally have my very own basket with all my fragile eggs nestled warmly inside.

Dr. Laura = Evil Conservative Biaatch

Ok, so maybe the title of the post is a little harsh, but DEAR GOD, my ears are bleeding.

I went to meet Mr. M for lunch today in Uptown at Galooney's pizza. MMM, Galooney's rocks. On my way there I was listening to the talk radio station I usually tune in to on my way home from work. I had no idea that this Dr. Laura woman was on over the lunch hour but now that I do I will definitely be tuning out. WHOA!

When I was in college I believe she briefly had a day time talk show and I remember catching a show here or there and not liking it. I don't remember being knocked flat on my ass by her commentary though. I have read the criticism of her because at the time of her show there was this big hubbub about how she's not really a Dr. at all and that she's a fake, la la la.

So I'm in my car heading to meet my sweet man for a delicious and special lunch and I hear her talking to some poor woman. The woman is rather shaken because she just found out that her husband of however many years has been having an affair. She found this out through her daughter who "accidentally" read his email. The woman wanted to know how to address the subject with her children and what to say, she also wanted to know if she should get them counseling. Dr. Laura responded by mocking the poor woman, "OH MY, what did we all do thousands of years ago when we didn't have therapists?!? What could we POSSSIBLY do without a therapy?!"

Excuse me Dr. Laura, but aren't you being a bit of a hypocrit suggesting that your own self proclaimed profession is a bunch of hooey? I do think this woman should at least get counseling for her children and herself. Dr. Laura however thinks nobody needs any therapy and all she has to do is talk to her children and they'll be fine. If her asshole husband doesn't want to talk with her to the children then he needs to pack his bags.

errrr I'm sorry WHAT?

That was only the first of a long line of completely out there responses she gave to people during my 15 minute drive. She also told a woman who had severe sexual abuse occur when she was a child to "stop blathering on and answer my question!WHY DIDN"T THE COUNSELING WORK!".

Well I got news for you Dr. Laura. I will see a therapist if I want to damnit, I will send my children to therapy if I want to, I will NOT refer to myself as "my husband's wife and my children's mother" - because I am entirely more than just that. Of course, that is if I were actually married OR had children.

endrant.

Communication Error

Ring Ring Ring

Agency (judy): [bored sounding voice mumbling] amuuricanreeesearchtheesisjuuudyhowmayhulpyou.

Me: Hi this is Suzanne calling from International Corp. I'm calling about the Rootbeer Tracker Study.

Judy: WHO?!

Me: Suzanne from International Corp. you are doing a Rootbeer Tracking Study for us.

Judy: [hand muffled over phone] ssshhhhrrccchrrkkeer rootbeer study ssshhrrrkkkerr Corp. National something or other sshrhreekkkess. [removes hand from phone] Um yea the person you want to talk to isn't here. Her name is Bridget. Can I help you?

Me: I just need to know why your quota wasn't completed for last week and if you think it's going to be a problem finishing quota this wave?

Judy: well we had a virus in our computer. But we're cleaning it soon so we'll start again.

Me: When are you "cleaning it"?

Judy: today. Or tomorrow.

Me: and when will Bridget be back in?

Judy: Next weekend.

Me: well, that's a little late to be doing all of your quota from last week and next week's quota. May I speak to your manager?

Judy: yes, can I get your telephone number?

Me: well you should have it since you've been working on this study for almost 6 months now but yes, 867-5309. Isn't your manager there? What's your manager's name?

Judy: Marie, here she is, I'll try to get ahold of Bridget while you're on the phone with her.

Marie: Hi this is Marie

Me: Hi Marie this is Suzanne from International Corp. I'm wondering why the quota wasn't completed for last week on the Rootbeer Tracking study?

Marie: I don't know anything about this study.

Me: aren't you the manager?

Marie: no, Charlotte is.

Me: May I speak to Charlotte then please?

Marie: no she retired?

Me: [sigh] alright, WHO is the acting manager for your facility?

Marie: Judy is.

Me: I just spoke to Judy and she said it was you.

Marie: [yelling across the room] Why did you tell her I knew anything about this study I don't even know what this is!!!

Me: Excuse me... excuse me... Marie?? I'll just wait for Bridget to call me.

Marie: do you have a 800 number?

Me: yes. it is 1-800-867-5309. Thanks, bye.

[10 minutes later]

ring ring ring

Me: Hi this is Suzanne

Bridget: Hi did you call about the Rootbeer study?

Me: yes, I was wondering about why you didn't finish your quota.

Bridget: I only come in on Sunday's and your server was down so I couldn't do any.

Me: why didn't you call me, my emergency cell is on the study guide for that very reason.

Bridget: Sorry I didn't know. We should be able to get it done this week.

Me: so you're starting today then? I heard you had a virus?

Bridget: no, they don't know what they are talking about over there. I only come in on Sunday's.

Me: only on Sunday's? Why is that?

Bridget: well, I don't really work there I just work this study.

Me: I see.

--------

Note to self, change that agency next wave.

Corny Confession

I have a confession and I'm embarrassed to admit to it.

I just cried to the Chase Manhattan commercial.

I am always a sucker for these stupid commercials. This one in particular was about a girl getting married and her father kept having flashbacks to when she was a child. When she tried on her wedding dress he saw her as a 7 year old in a fairy costume at halloween. When she opened the doors of the church he saw her as a little girl again. Then when she asked him to dance at her reception they showed the two of them walking toward the dance floor and then cut to her as a small child again skipping along holding her daddies hand.

AHHH. It KILLS me!

It's official I'm a total sucker.

And For My Fans

The recent addition of the sidebar RetroStats button is proving to be more of an obsession than anything else. Of the 19 total visitors I'm not sure how many are me. I would guess that they restart each 24 hours because I highly doubt that 19 individual people have stopped by my blog. Plus 2 of those 19 are definitely me since I use my blogroll from work and home.

So for the rest of my 17 adoring fans who don't comment and must have stumbled here by mistake... I give you a post.

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My friend whom I spoke of yesterday has finally responded to my email in a way that I find satisfactory and I am now willing to continue the friendship with her. However I am extremely hesitant due to the fact that what kind of friend flips on you like that. What kind of friend takes out their own insecurities on you? NO LIKEY.

This weekend I'm looking foward to lots of ass time. I'm gonna sit on my ass like nobody has EVER sat on their ass. Naturally you'll find me at the gym between 7-8 everynight making up for the serious ass time.

In related ass news, I need a new pair of jeans as it seems my old standby (translate: fave jeans) have decided to go all tight on me. Making it semi painful to sit at my desk with the button cramming into my belly and the thigh seams making lines on my inner thighs. Say it with me now people... WTF!

I work out, I try to watch what I eat (please do not bring up the starburst episode from yesterday or I'm likely to spit fire) and I still have the seam lines on my thighs from my old favorite jeans. Because yes they are now my OLD favorite as they have BETRAYED ME! I have one pair of jeans that I refer to as my "fat jeans" because that's exactly what they are for, fat days. They are way loose on me though as they are a size 12! and could possibly drop to the floor if I raise my hands above my head. So I save them for gardening and around the house chores. Apparently I find it easier to show my ass crack to my neighbors while knee deep in dirt than to my co-workers.

As you may or may not have noticed I've added a few peeps to my sidebar addiction reads. Corporate Mommy had a post a few weeks back about the whole blogroll thing and what it should be vs. what people make it. I agree that I don't like the snobby cool kids thing where they segment the people they loooove from the people they feel obliged to put on their site.

Let it be known hence forth - the blogroll you see on your right is the sites I actually read and I actually like. I would expect the same from everyone else. If somebody has me on their blogroll for a polite reason, please by all means delete it. If you don't really read my blog, that's ok, you don't have to put me on your blogroll. So, in conclusion - I'm not a cool kid in the blogosphere so I won't act like one. If I like how you write and it applies to me in some way, you're there. If I don't know your name and you have a blog that I've never read... you ain't there.

endrant.

Random Ramblings Of My Mind

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I found the best yogurt flavor of all time. Especially for those of you who, like me, don't enjoy the slimy chunks of un-identifiable fruit swirling through your yogurt. It's Orange Creme from Yoplait. Tastes exactly like the dreamsicles from my youth. We used to have those ice cream guys on bikes with the freezer on the front come by in the summer. mmmm

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I'm the only one at work in my department this afternoon. Feels weird. I find that I am still a child and am thinking of ways to get out early without anyone knowing. Will this ever go away? Will I always try to get out of work no matter what I'm doing? The ways for getting out so far are: put phone on forward calls to cell phone and bring laptop with me to check emails so it looks like I've been keeping up all day, stay till 4 so I can meet the fedex guy then leave promptly, leave now and drop fedex off at some other location. All good ideas I think, but when am I gonna get over this lazy ass shit!?

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2:00 hits and I'm craving sweets so I go to my candy drawer and pull out one single pink starburst. I try to savor the pinkly goodness and suck on it till its no longer a solid thing. Who the ef am I kidding... I pour entire bag on on desk and start going at them.

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I added a brand spankin new web stats thing in the sidebar. I tried to get retrostats a long time ago but at the time they weren't allowing any new accounts because of people "abusing their accounts" whatever the ef that means. Funny thing is most of the "hits" are me since I use my blog to read my blogroll. Guess that makes me a loooooser that I've only had 9 visitors since starting it two days ago and 2 of them are me. feh.. whatcha gonna do.

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Went to the gym last night and benched. Which I haven't done since I was 18 and a buff mama. ooooweeee do my arms and chest hurt. feels good though maybe something is working. *she says while shoving the 12th starburst in her mouth.

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I think I lost my best friend. She wrote me an email about how I act like an elitist because I don't drink beer and go four wheeling. How she works at a factory and I work in an office with a college degree so I'm some snobby bitch or something or other. She also wants to know if I can manage to spend "one night away from Mr. M". She soooo doesn't get it does she. I responded with a heartfelt email. I said things like "you know that's not me, I'm hurt that you think that" blah blah blah. In truth, the only reason she would feel that way about me is because she feels that way about herself. I have never once judged her lifestyle. She's more than welcome to drop out of college and work at a window factory the rest of her life. I don't really care what she does as long as she's happy. Apparently she's not happy if she's writing emails like that.

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I find it strange that I have all of a sudden matured 10 years and have realized that when people lash out or say judgemental things to me... it's soooo about them and has nothing to do with me. The same goes for people who give me compliments. Not really about me either.

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I'd like a new cell phone please. Mine sucks big rocks.

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I love my kitten more and more everyday. She is so luxuriously beautiful with just the right amount of personality. Me and her... we're pals.

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Why do I get so tired mid-afternoon. I feel like napping everyday at 3. So I drive home thinking... ooooh a nap mmmm. Then I get home and I get this second wind. Why couldn't I just get that second wind at like 2ish.

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I absolutely LOOOOOVE the America's Next Top Model show. I TiVo'd it every time and watched with great anticipation. Me and Mr. M picked our favorites and amazingly both of our girls made it to the end. I desperately wanted the awkward but adorable Kahlen to win but understood that Naima had more of the package with the necessary "presence". Have I revealed my dorkiness yet? If not... let me give you a taste. When they were about to announce the winner I put it on pause and ran around the house screaming.. "KAHLEN KAHLEN COME ON KAHLEN". Then when they said "Naima" I almost cried. hehehe. yup, big dork.

end rant.

Oh The Sweet Sweet Smell Of Love

After racing home from work for an emergency love making session I made dinner and we went for the most lovely walk.

We live in this lovely little town that's actually a suburb but you wouldn't know it because it actually has a soul and a main street. We're only 15 minutes from downtown and we get to have a community at the same time. I LOVE IT.

Strolling past all of the neatly manicured lawns and gardens smelling the lovely new flower buds was absolute heaven. Little boys playing baseball on the local diamond trying with all there might to hit the ball as far as they can. My fingers laced through the chain links as a drank in the cool spring night.

I remember the feeling of this kind of evening from my childhood. Everything about this town we live in reminds me of my youth. All the way down to the baseball diamond and movie theater. The smells of lilacs are so potent that you want to just inhale them all day since they only last for about 2 weeks.

So here we sit up on the porch that is actually on top of our home. Our kitten (translation: big fat cat) sits on the edge of the porch watching the cars go by. We have speakers on either end of the porch that play random mp3's wirelessly from the computer downstairs. The half moon above is just starting to twinkle as dusk is just setting in. Warm hot cocoa and cool breezes carrying the most lovely mild fragrances.

I love this. I really do. I love him sitting across from me with his cigar smoke twirling around above him.

Marriage? Children? who needs it when you have this....

don't make me regret that mmmmkay?

Tips - Anyone... ANYONE!?

Enough is enough. I'm sick of feeling fat.... SICK OF IT!

I started working out in January because I was sick of it. I've been working out consistently since Jan. 2nd. Going 3-5 times a week, for 1 hour at a time. 10 minute warm up (usually brisk walking on the treadmill), 20 minute weights (upper/lower body), 30 minutes of sweat your ass off cardio on the elyptical.

I went from being a sloth sittin on the couch everyday after work to this.

So, what do I have to show for it... absolutely positively... NOTHING.

I haven't lost a POUND! In fact, I gained an initial 6 pounds when I started of "muscle weight" so they tell me. Which I think is a crock of shit. Then I lost 3.

So that means that from start point to now, I'm 3 pounds heavier than where I started. No my clothes don't feel looser, no I don't feel more toned, and NO I DON"T FEEL GOOD.

I'm beggin the blogosphere... PLEASE HELP ME!

endrant.

Don't Judge A Book By It's Cover

One of the many friend's of Mr. M is visiting us from Seattle. Like most of Mr. M's friends he too has a level of social ineptness.

Let's call him, Gary.

Gary is 32 years old, works at the public utilities department out in Washington and he's worked there for 12 years. He's 32. I would venture to guess he's a 32 year old virgin and probably never been on a proper date with a woman. About 6 months ago he fell in love with a girl. Trouble was, it was truly a girl. His best friends daughter, she's 18. He started seeing signs in music and in things she would do that pointed him to the SURE truth that she felt the same way.

say it with me now people... WTF!

So he told the poor child and I do mean child about his undying love and she reacted just how I thought she would. She freaked out. She's never had a boyfriend and not exactly the social queen herself so this was extremely frightening for her I'm sure.

He went in to deep depression, listening to a handful of songs over and over again by himself, never leaving the house. He lost 60 pounds (which is good but not a healthy way). He played online poker non-stop and babbled on to Mr. M about the girl that got away endlessly.

He came to visit us and Mr. M asked me if I would take him shopping for a new wardrobe. For two reasons. The first one being that he does dress pretty awful. But the clothes definitely match the man. He wears tapered tight jeans that go to his ankles, scrubby tennis shoes (the only shoes he owns), t-shirts that say things like "I'd rather be fishing", the largest glasses I've ever seen, and an over grown goatee. The second reason being that he had lost such a significant amount of weight that everything he owned was baggy.

So we went out on our trek for a new wardrobe. After some serious arm twisting he tried on and bought 2 pairs of dress pants (khaki and black) and 2 pairs of gap jeans. 2 button up crisp shirts, a pair of square toed black dress shoes, dress socks, and new glasse. OH and a new wallet to replace the velcro one he's had for 20 years. The grand total was 700 dollars. I was pretty proud of myself when we got him all dressed up in his new clothes. He actually looked somewhat attractive.
Unfortunately I couldn't talk him into getting rid of the circa 1990 goatee. But, I pick my battles wisely and merely planted the seed that he may want to think about getting rid of that.

We went out to listen to some live music and my friend Nene met us. This is the moment that I realized you can take the dork OFF of the boy but you can't take the dork OUT of the boy.

He proceeded to try and take pictures with his cell phone of everything that walked by, he attempted to take a picture of Nene to which she told him flat out to knock it the fuck off. She ain't shy. He had drink after drink which is fine... have fun!

Except if your 32 and act like a complete ass when you drink and don't know how to be a normal person. He put ice in Mr. M's coffee while snorting and belly laughing (cause yea, that's really funny, NOT). Then his voice got about 20 notches louder and he would say "HEY HOMER CHECK HER OUR!!" He calls Mr. M Homer. Finally I had to say "GARY, excuse me but do you MIND! I am sitting right here and although you might be on the prowl you are sitting next to my BOYFRIEND! So knock it off!" That was the last of that.

All in all... I realized, you really can't judge a book by it's cover because in most cases it's just a shiny paper cover and underneath it will always be the same - words and character.

Excuse the Hiatus

This week I experienced a new phenomenon.

Flying isn't fun anymore.

I used to love the whole flying scenario. Packing, excitement, traveling, planes, little packs of pretzels, sleeping for hours on the plane, arriving at a cool location.

Now - it goes more like this:

• Run around frantically trying to get everything into the suitcase that I'll need the next morning.
• Attempt to clean the house enough so that I'm not embarrassed when friend Katie comes to play with/feed the kitten.
• Set alarm for the ass-crack of dawn.
• Get on cramped stuffy plane that's hot.
• Find out that I'm sitting next to two children under the age of 3 and a pregnant mother "do you mind if we take your window seat? they love to look out." - ummmm "yea I frickin MIND!"
• Get spit on, drooled on, jumped on, kicked, poked, and prodded. (ok, I don't mind if it's my kid or even a relatives/friend's kid - but not some stranger's kid)
• Get on another hot stuffy cramped plane.
• Girl sitting in my seat says "Oh sorry I took your seat by accident, I'll move" - why thank you. "but I accidentally spilled some perfume, I hope it doesn't bother you". (oh no, why would THAT bother me!)
• finally get home from stupid business trip with no fun pictures, no tan lines, and definitely no fun stories.
• Wake up next morning for work.

UGH.

endrant.

Uncontrollable Spewing Mouth

I've had this problem for a long time... but here's one of my best.

Pip-Squeak Rookie ME (psrm): so we need a contact email address for the video streaming of the focus groups.

Senior Exec (SE): oh, ok we'll probably have that be Brenda our client contact.

PSRM: are you sure you don't want it to be me or you? since Brenda will be busy at the site that day?

SE: umm. no I don't want to get involved really (mumble mumble).

PSRM: [laughing] we are at such different places in our career! I'm like YES PICK ME PICK ME [raising hand while flailing it] and you're like, ummmm no I think I'm playing golf that day.

SE: [nervous chuckle]

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The uncontrollable spewing mouth strikes again! Way to go ME... ugh.

let me also add that my boss and co-workers were all within ear-shot.

Where'd Everybody Go?

As I was driving back from lunch today I was at a stoplight and for some reason was thinking about all the people that had sat at that stoplight and drove on. Because I have the most abstract random mind EVER this made me think about life in general and how people in my life are at my proverbial stop light and then move on.

As a child I had a bevvy of girlfriends in elementary school. I grew up in Bismark, ND and walked to school each day never fearing any harm - ah the joys of midwest, small town livin.

I went to Will-Moore Elementary school from grades K-4 and then moved to Minnesota with my family. I have extremely vivid memories of my elementary days. Sometimes I wonder if this isn't normal, because most people I ask can only remember vague things from growing up. I however can remember outfits I wore and bows that I had. I remember my bedroom down to the the color of the comforter and what was hidden under the bed. Most of all I remember all my friends - I can picture them in my mind.

Christy Wentz was a half native american and half white. She was the cutest girl in class and had sandy blonde/brown straight hair that was very 80's in that she hairsprayed the sides out and had the infamous claw bangs (you know the ones). She was good at math and ran faster than me in gym class. But we were very good friends. She got bussed in from "Lincoln" which I didn't realize was actually the reservation when I was a child. As an adult I now realize all the racism that went on with the Native Americans in my class.

Emily Nordwall had blonde curly hair (which I believe her mother permed) and pale skin with blue eyes. Her father was a doctor or lawyer of some sort. She was my rich friend. She got the cricket talking doll before ANY of my other friends and let me play with it. I later heard that she ended up being quite the pot head in highschool and then went on to be some sort of hippie in college. Who knows if that's true.

Kelly Klundt was the girl who moved in down the block when I was probably 8 or 9. I didn't realize her last name was funny until I was much older. Nor did I have any idea that her mother was a HUGE republican pro-lifer. I remember she used to go to the "clinic" to "volunteer" and she always wore her fur coat as she used to be some sort of model and was extremely fashionable. However Kelly's mother was a bit crazy - she used to only park in a parking space if the cars around it had the same color scheme as hers. I believe Kelly is now some sort of intern in a major Republican Senator's office in DC. Which doesn't surprise me one bit.

Mary Haman was my friend who moved in only 2 years before I left Bismarck. Her family was catholic as all get out. I'm talkin 13 kids catholic, say your rosarie everynight catholic, wall dedicated to saints and Mary catholic. Funny enough - Mary was the most "bad" friend I had. She stole, drank, smoked, and kissed boys. She was the one who stole her sisters car told me if I didn't get in I couldn't be her friend anymore and went joy-riding at 3AM only to get caught by a cop and brought down to the station. I bawled the whole time - I was 13. Mary was pretty but had a nasal like voice and bad scoliosis. Many times I had to wait for Mary to finish doing her rosary before we could go out and play. To this day I know the first couple of words only because she mumbled the rest.

Scott Maslowski was one of the boyfriends I had in 4th grade. He wore glasses and was smart but a little nerdy. In forth grade if you have a boyfriend it means you are "going out" and you don't actually GO anywhere or DO anything. It's all very sweet and cute I think.

Nathan Hangslaben was the cutest boy in class. Which is funny because now when I look back at those school pictures we all traded. He was not so cute. He too wore glasses. BUT, he played hockey and I went to some of his games with his sister who I was pretending to be friends with just so I could be around Nathan. We were "going out" for a while too. Same scenario, didn't DO anything or GO anywhere.

Anne Dwyer my friend from church. She was very wealthy and had a cabin with horses that we got to ride. She was meek but daring. I don't know how to explain the juxtaposition of that except to say, she would ride a clydesdale bareback at 8 years old but would still hide behind her mom when she met knew people. I admired Anne's knowledge of all things out doors. She was also into figure skating and very good from what I remember. Her brothers were terrors and we did what we could to avoid them.

The list goes on of the names and faces I remember. All the way on into highschool and college. I always remember people. I wonder where these people have gone... after they left my stoplight in life.

Just a Few Ways To Annoy Me

1. don't finish the quota I assigned you
2. don't say anything about the missed quota until I call you and ask
3. be un-apologetic about the quota you missed
4. be un-helpful when asked to give suggestions for remedying the situation
5. send me emails asking what the job number is for entering a report - knowing full well you've worked on this job for 4 waves now.
6. send me emails about a job I'm not working on after being reminded nine MILLION times.

and... just some other random things that are annoying me currently:
1. belly hangs over my jeans
2. belly isn't shrinking after 4 continuous months of working out
3. busting my ass on the elyptical machine/weights 3-5 times a week and I've GAINED weight
4. getting a weird raised mole on my FRICKIN LIP PEOPLE! WTF!
5. stupid red bumps on the back of my arms that look like little pimples but aren't
6. can't get an appointment with a dermatologist until I see a regular Physician who's just going to refer me to a dermatologist. Which will then cost me 50 bucks instead of 30.
7. best friend isn't paying boyfriend the money she owes him to the tune of 800 dollars. So I paid it instead - cause I just won't have my friends screwing my BF out of money.


I'll think of more... this is just the surface stuff right now - feels good to get it out eh?

end rant.