Moving, Money, Mean Office Manager

I usually try to keep my blog for events that happen in my life, but since the past few months have presented very few events, ergo, I'm BORING, I'm just writing to write now.

Today ended a week-long hiatus of the Evil Office Manager Women. At the end of the work day yesterday, several employees lamented the end of their freedom, the end of the large exhale we all felt when she first went on vacation. It kind of amazes me how I can almost totally ignore her, how she no longer has much effect on my work day, and yet there's that very subtle awareness of just how much more happy and relaxed I am when she's not around, even if I like to pretend she's wearing an invisibility cloak all the time when she is here.

Besides her, work overall is going fairly well, despite the fact I haven't confessed my departure to my boss yet. Why? Because I'm a complete coward and my boss, whom I have grown to deeply like and admire, will be SUPER pissed. I'm the first person she's had to really help her out ever, (her workload is monstrous), and she's really enjoyed it. And I know she's thankful and thinks I rock, cause she literally said so in her own self-evaluation she handed in to her boss last week. Huzzah!

And one thing I realized a little while ago, is that although I'm getting paid fucking peanuts, and a good part of my job involves menial tasks, I am still learning a LOT. I feel like I have acquired, under her guidance, a real kind of expertise in certain academic areas of higher education. This would have been an ideal job for me about 10 years ago - a position to learn and grow in. Now, it's just kind of an interesting internship.

In other news, Beau and I are very slowly moving into freaking out-bickering mode. With the upcoming move to Missouri becoming more of a reality (we kind of are in the "we'll believe it when we're actually turning the key in the rental truck" kind of mentality), a lot of the oppressive stress that accompanies such a big move is beginning to descend. As always for Beau that includes, "How the FUCK are we going to pay for all of this?!" For me, that includes, "How are we going to pack and get this place cleaned in time?!" Due to our awful student loan situation and back taxes, we will not see one single cent of our "stimulus" check. So much for that MUCH NEEDED help. All those who went out and bought new leather furniture or jet skis or a trip to Hawaii can kiss my white butt.

And, being the World's #1 EXPERT on moving, I have already begun, with a great amount of gusto, to prepare for the move. I began taking pictures off the wall and packing away books the day after Beau accepted his new teaching job. We've already cleaned out our little storage unit and I have rapidly begun filling it with precisely-packed boxes. I'd pack even more, just so we could get a headstart on what I'm truly dreading -- the CLEANING -- but the slow disappearance of our worldly possessions from the small apartment is beginning to make Beau nervous. It's true, the simple act of removing pictures from the wall turns your place from a "home" to an empty hotel room.

Speaking of student loans - those beasts of educational burden - both Beau and I were finally tracked down by our loan people and forced (yes, forced) to start coughing up money again. Some guy kept calling my work (thank god someone else answers the phone), and asking for me. When I looked up the private company he worked for, the website displayed a sort of creepy "We can find anyone, dead or alive!!!" motto. FREAKED me out. And I very much doubted that I was being sought out for an inheritance from an unknown rich relative. Still, though I knew it was most likely the student loan people (my credit is otherwise just fine now), it was rather scary that they would hire such a company.

Well, after the guy called several times, and the receptionist was starting to give me the "I'm getting sick of covering for you" speech, I bucked up and took his call. Unsurprisingly, it was the student loan people, but in a weird twist of fate, it was NOT the people who own the 90% overall chunk of my loans, but the guys who have the other 10%. Seeing as I can only possibly pay one of these guys at a time, at least it was the 10% people who got me. If/when the 90% people get me, I'm going to fucking starve, and I'm not being cute.

My weight continues to be a big issue, and continues to aggravate my blood pressure. I've wanted to get off my blood pressure meds, not just because I hate having a host of pills to take every morning, but also to save me from the humiliation of my office mates watching me get up and go to the restroom every 30-60 minutes like some sort of pregnant racehorse. But my doctor said unless I had some sort of "significant weight loss," I had to take them or face a stroke. Lovely.

I'm still pretty stymied as to why I've been so steadily and rapidly gaining weight, despite the continued dramatic changes in my diet. I've even begun running in the mornings, an activity I don't enjoy, so hopefully something will come of that soon. It's funny, many years ago I was a long-distance runner, and now when my fat ass runs a much shorter length, I feel so totally ridiculous. It's like my body is flapping and protruding all over the place. As I run, I swear it feels like I'm sticking my butt out in some kind of tarty pose. My feet pound on the ground like I'm trying to grind corn. And after my short run, I have the same heart-searing, gasping-for-the-breath-of-life feelings I once had after running an under-7-minute mile. To think I won that Presidential Fitness Award twice as a kid. Now? Pathetic.

One big joy has been our community garden which is again chock-full of tomato plants (20 this year!), purple and yellow beans, butternut squash, Thai chilies, basil, mint, kale, and THE most amazing sugar pea and snow pea plants I have ever seen, thankyouverymuch! The pea plants are beginning to take on a familiar Little Shop of Horrors look to them, which I am rather proud of. It was pretty touch and go for awhile, since just TWO FRICKIN WEEKS AGO it snowed here! Yes, yes, it snowed! For TWO days! In JUNE! Death to tomato plants! Luckily, they pulled through (not sure if the Thai chilies will make a comeback), so I eagerly await their bounty.

Oh, and another big joy has been the re-submergence into the glorious world that is Harry Potter. After a year or two of begging Beau to read the first book, he finally did, and with the second book, we continued our ritual of "Beau drives, J. reads," one of my favorite things in the whole world. So, to and from work, to and from the store, and muting the TV on commercial breaks at home, I read and read and read from the glorious books. We read a book, then immediately watch the movie. We just watched the Order of the Phoenix dvd this past weekend, and I'm already well past page 100 in book 6. It was so wonderful to introduce him to Lupin and Tonks and the awesomeness that is Fred & George and Neville and Luna and.... *happy sigh* We just need to finish Half-Blood Prince by November when the movie comes out, which I think will be no problem at all. I can hardly wait to start reading book 7!!!

Cold Stone Sucker

Beau and I have just "discovered" Cold Stone Creamery. I remember them in NYC a few years ago, but after once wandering into one on Times Square and seeing a $6 price tag for a cone of ice cream, I had quickly exited in disgust, thinking the long line of people were just a bunch of suckers.

Well, thank god for coupons, 'cause we made our way to the local one last night, he getting a Cake Batter ice cream with apple pie filling and me a Sweet Cream ice cream with cherry pie filling.

Holy hell, we were in utter fucking heaven! I don't normally blog about mainstream food like this, but we were just totally floored at how delicious it was! I remember when people started crowing about Krispy Kreme's over and over again. I finally got to try them in Chicago, enjoyed them very much, but never understood the searing passion that others did.

But now, I am completely in love with Cold Stone Creamery. Too bad it's pricey and must certainly contain 10,000 calories per cup. We were already negotiating with ourselves how we could justify have a cone a week "if we really do stick to our exercising and watch what we eat.." yadda yadda...

Yes, We Can.

Originally, I had written a good-sized blog about my philosophy behind why I moved from supporting Hillary Clinton to Barack Obama. But now, after all the dust has settled, it seems a bit late for all that. Basically, it was a slow process that built over time, starting from when Beau and I stood out in the cold for an hour or two to see Obama, to the time, a month later, when I saw Bill Clinton speak (notice Clinton making seductive eye contact with me). Obama was jazzed, Clinton was mad. Obama was fun, but not as awe-inspiring as I thought he'd be. Clinton was a lot more angry and tired-looking than I expected, though he did talk to the crowd very intelligently and gave lots of good, specific facts.

I sway back and forth between worrying that I am being swept up in Obama Idealism, to then getting angry at myself for being such a harsh cynic, and being afraid of feeling hopeful and excited about politics again. And it was pretty neat to see a state like Montana, which normally is basically ignored by candidates (and they do have a valid reason for it), get a little love.

In the end, in early June, I cast my vote for Obama, though I feel a twinge of sadness for Hillary, too. It's been awhile since I had two really good choices for president, and wasn't voting more against Bush than for a fellow Democrat.

I am also going to post again the lovely Will.i.am video which recites Obama's speech from New Hampshire, after he lost to Hillary Clinton there. Enjoy.

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It was a creed written into the founding documents
That declared the destiny of a nation

Yes, we can

It was whispered by slaves and abolitionists
As they blazed a trail toward freedom

Yes, we can. Yes, we can.

It was sung by immigrants as they struck out from distant shores
Pioneers who pushed westward against an unforgiving wilderness

Yes, we can.

It was the call of workers who organized
Women who reached for the ballot
A President who chose the moon as our new frontier
And a King who took us to the mountain top
And pointed the way to the Promised Land

Yes, we can to justice and equality. Yes, we can.

Yes, we can to opportunity and prosperity.

Yes, we can heal this nation.
Yes, we can repair this world.
Yes, we can.

We know the battle ahead will be long
But always remember that no matter what obstacles stand in our way
Nothing in the way of the power of millions of voices
Calling for change

We want change, we want change

We have been told we cannot do this
By a chorus of cynics
And they will only grow louder and more dissonant
We have been asked to pause for a reality check
We have been warned against offering the people of this nation
False hope

But in the unlikely story that is America
There has never been anything false about Hope.

The hopes of the little girl who goes to crumbling school in Dillon
Are the same as the dreams of the boy who learns on the streets of L.A.
We will remember that there is something happening in America
That we are not as divided as our politics suggest
That we are one people
That we are one nation

And together, we will begin the next great chapter
in the American story
With three words that will ring from coast to coast
From sea to shining sea

Yes, we can
Yes, we can
Yes, we can

Happy Birthday, Binabun!

Happy birthday, my beautiful Sabina,
the best cat that has ever lived!

Since you were two months old, except for the 6 months I studied in France and that horrible month in quarantine in New Zealand, you have always been with me. No other living thing has been with me this long.

You have quite the kitty passport! You've lived in 7 cities, 4 states, and 3 different countries. You've endured torturously-long plane rides, and, very begrudgingly, 4 different cat companions at one time or another. You've survived fleas from a dog, a cold from a cat, and impressively, the "black parasite" of Thailand which killed the two kittens with you. *sniff*

You're definitely tough! You killed my parakeet *wince* and scratched the shit out of a Doberman (who was then terrified of you for life) in Milwaukee. In Madison, you caught a bat in mid-air and then proceeded to kick the crap out of it. In Bangkok, you left the decapitated bodies of poor geckos on the carpet for me to find. In New York City, you destroyed the arm of Steve's couch. And in Montana, you seem to have resigned yourself to stalking and killing my black socks. Well, that's better than the habit in your younger years of knocking over trash cans and sticking your head into "empty" containers of yogurt.

Despite all this, all you truly want is to be a lap cat, with 24 hours of non-stop stroking (hey, I can't get enough stroking, either!). You are affectionate and sweet, a real lover, and I swear, it seemed like you never left my bed while I lay, alone in a foreign country, sick and suffering with Dengue Fever.

You still seem so young to me, I can hardly believe it's been this long. I hope you live 14 more years. I love you, Bina!