I mean, it really has to be. The house is at its quietest, and you're utterly worn out from a horrific day. Well, maybe not you, but me.
I never did get my paycheck, which means we cannot pay rent. This also means that the uber-bitch landlord will not give our $1500 deposit back.
Does it matter? No.
Why? Because we won't be here in four weeks. Instead of moving to Washington in 2 months, it is now 3 1/2 weeks. Seventeen days. We have to leave in seventeen days so that we can get across the country so that Venti can start his new job on the 26th.
He finally got the all-clear from the company tonight. We needed the good news, and it came just when we needed it the most. However, I am completely overwhelmed. As I sat listening to Venti call everyone he knows, and then email everyone he knows, and then check his email some more - I obviously had alot of time to think. (First of all - how about talking to me first? Not to dilute his absolute bliss about getting hired - just, well - I'm making a life altering change, too - ya know?)
There's so much to do, and what did I do other than panic? I wrote a list of rooms, and what to take with us - and what to put in storage to have shipped later. I thought alot about the upcoming guilt-fest my family is going to dump on me. I don't need that right now, but I sure would love their support...and not that riddled-with-sarcasm support shit, either.
Anyway, Venti called about 5 or 6, maybe more, people. I tried to get through to my mom, but only got her answering machine and she didn't call back. I didn't have anyone else to call. Ugh.
Grande Decaf is extremely excited and is planning on not going to school tomorrow so that he can stay home and help pack and throw things away. Seventeen days. Good lord. In the short space of 3 hours my home suddenly became knee-deep in cardboard boxes. We currently live about 3 blocks from an enormous outlet mall. Finding boxes are of no concern.
Venti is going to give his resignation letter tomorrow. I wish I could be there to see how they react. I bet it will be priceless, and I bet they'll counter-offer. He'd never take it, but it would be a boost to his ego. Priceless.
I'm wrong - people, well - me, don't think best at 3am, as this scattered entry tells. I'm all over the place with my thoughts tonight.
So - let me tell a stupid story about the bitch at Borders last week so that I can get my mind off of how much shit I have to do.
I needed a couple of books to get me through Venti being 3,000 miles away for several days, and so he took me to Borders. I wanted to read the novel version of Practical Magic (which, of course, was that Sandra Bullock movie.) I walked up to the computer and searched, and they didn't have it. Some goth chick was nearby at the counter and I asked her if she had any thoughts on books similar to that which might interest me. At the time I was holding a totally trashy romance novel looking thing in my hand. She looked me up and down and said "That's not really my genre."
Not really my genre. Really? Yeah, I suppose thinking isn't either. Christ. Don't judge me just because I don't have purple streaks in my hair. (Yet. The box of dye is still sitting on the dresser - just haven't gotten around to doing it yet.) I don't read fucking romance novels. I wanted something interesting, something other-worldly - and I wanted some goddamned help since she "worked" at the store - and I do use that term loosely. I ended up finding a couple of books on my own that were about alternate planes of existence, and fucking forgive me - but they were wound up in romance, too. It's not my fault. The Borders here doesn't carry many, if any, books on witchcraft. Did I see Christian Romance Novels, though? YOU betcha!!!
Give me a fucking break.
Here is one instance where I cannot wait to get to Seattle. The book thing - it's different there.
Anyway, back to my current plight. (I feel as though I can vent better about it now.)
So...12 hours ago life was shit, everything was up in the air, and I was crying. 5 hours ago I found out that yes, indeed, we are going to Seattle, and alot sooner than we thought. ALOT sooner. We'll be stopping in Montana so that we can visit Venti's mom for 2 days. His gay brother will be there. The last time I saw him he was really mean to me, and so I'm not really looking forward to seeing him again. It will be the first time that either of them will have met Short Decaf, though. After our stay in Montana, we will form a caravan with Venti's mom and brother, and drive to Washington.
So. Our first stop is St. Louis. We'll be leaving on a Saturday morning from Leesburg, Virginia. Google says that this is a 15-hour drive, but of course you have to leave time for stopping to eat and gas-up. Let's call it an 18-hour driving day. I really wish Venti wouldn't want to get that far that fast, but he says he wants to get across the Mississippi River so that we're no longer in "the East" as quickly as possible. Yes. He hates it here that much.
And I'm terrified. My panic doctor told me to not cross the bridge until I come to it when it comes to my utter fear of having a terrible panic attack while driving across the country. Well, yo doc! Bridge coming up!!! So, I have to call him, and also go see my family doctor to see what I can do to prepare for this. I will not be ruining a cross-country trip because of my panic attacks. And the funny thing is - it's not even the panic attacks that are the most terrifying thing.
I'm really scared about moving back to the west coast again. It's true that I'll have more family there than I do here, and that I'll see them all the time - but it's not MY family - as fucked up as they are. I don't know why this scares me.
Is it possible that I'm feeling traumatized? Too much going on? Overload? God - do you think nervous breakdowns are real? I wonder. I'd hate to have one.
My best never-met-in-real-life friend IMd me his phone number, but my son logged me out so that he could talk to his girl friends about moving. He is the only one who has cared enough to offer support, although I put out the distress flares yesterday. No familial response. And I'm scared to leave here WHY???
Ugh. I'm just so conflicted.
And....moving on. Gas prices here are $3.08. Of course, our car can take nothing other than Ultra Supreme Unleaded so we always pay the highest prices. Now - we ARE getting $3k for moving expenses from the company, and thank God for that, but damn...gas is really going to fuck with our quality of trippage. Speaking of our car - it's at the VW dealer getting the seat fixed. We also need two new tires before we leave. Damn. Just thought of that. Fortunately, we got one of those thing-a-ma-bobs that convert a car's lighter into an electrical outlet - so we can at least keep all three kids occupied with movies via laptop for the entire trip. We'll only have to watch Shrek 12 times the first day. Niiiice.
Well, I should really think about my brother's bait shop website. Or should I go to sleep? (meaning - lay there and stare at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling.) Decisions...decisions...decisions...
So many to make in the next seventeen days.
PS: Thank you X for your # - although I lost it - it means the world that you sent it.
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
Making Sense
The oppresive air that's parked itself in our house is thick. It's choking us. We're waiting for everything.
I should explain that we went the legal route and notified our landlord that we would not be renewing our lease this year. We gave her 62 days notice instead of the 60 we needed to give her. Aren't we on the ball? So, again, whether Washington holds what it was supposed to or not - we're moving out of this house we've lived in for 3 years.
Three years worth of stuff to get rid of. We have to clean, paint, clean some more, paint some more...and beg the Universe that Landlord Decaf will give us our $1500 deposit back to us. We know she won't, in the back of our minds, because she's an evil uber-bitch.
My precious Venti is so stressed out. There's "stressed out" and then there's "pegged." Venti is well beyond pegged. I feel like there's nothing I can do other than say 'pick up a bottle of wine on your way home.' Could anyone in the entire Universe deserve more of a break than him? NO!! Where is it??? It's not coming, and he needs it to!
And where is my mother fucking goddamn paycheck???????????
Fuck. Diaper-changing time. No, it never ends.
- Waiting for gas to hit $4 a gallon so that our drive across the country is made considerably less comfortable. Say bye-bye to Holiday Inn, and hello to Betty-Lou's Travel Schack.
- Waiting for the company to call Venti. Why won't they call and give the go-ahead? Why does it all have to be so goddamned complicated?
- Waiting for my paycheck to hit the bank, which hasn't happened as it normally does. Naturally, having resigned from my job and this being my last paycheck I'm starting to become greatly concerned that it's NEVER going to be deposited into my account. If that is the case we cannot pay rent or other bills, and we're screwed to a wall. I got email notification that the money would be hitting my bank account on the 31st, as usual. It's never been this late in the day that it's gotten there - and it's usually been a day early.
- Waiting for this antidepressant, Lexapro, to kick in and help take away the racing thoughts, panic attacks, and - most recently - crying jags I've been having. I hope it makes me go mentally numb. I don't want to feel anything. I have to finish my brother's bait shop website before I lose all creativity, though. (Always some loose end like this hanging around.)
- Back again to waiting for specific times of the day. 4:15 when the kids get home. 6:15 when Venti gets home.
I should explain that we went the legal route and notified our landlord that we would not be renewing our lease this year. We gave her 62 days notice instead of the 60 we needed to give her. Aren't we on the ball? So, again, whether Washington holds what it was supposed to or not - we're moving out of this house we've lived in for 3 years.
Three years worth of stuff to get rid of. We have to clean, paint, clean some more, paint some more...and beg the Universe that Landlord Decaf will give us our $1500 deposit back to us. We know she won't, in the back of our minds, because she's an evil uber-bitch.
My precious Venti is so stressed out. There's "stressed out" and then there's "pegged." Venti is well beyond pegged. I feel like there's nothing I can do other than say 'pick up a bottle of wine on your way home.' Could anyone in the entire Universe deserve more of a break than him? NO!! Where is it??? It's not coming, and he needs it to!
And where is my mother fucking goddamn paycheck???????????
Fuck. Diaper-changing time. No, it never ends.
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
Back from Va-kay
No, never told anyone I was going, but I did. I only went to Mother Decaf's house 3 hours away and stayed one night.
My observation? People with central air should turn it the fuck on when it's 80º in the house and nobody can sleep. I'm serious. They have this huge central air unit and NEVER turn it on. I have slept maybe 4 hours ... and I feel like I'm lead-lined.
Venti got good news. The company is flying him out to Seattle. I'm nervous as hell about this. I'll go into more detail later, but right now I'm just wiped out. The trip is a good thing, of course, I just have my own stupid 'issues' about it.
If you have Firefox (and you should) get the extension called StumbleUpon. It's a helluva lot of fun.
Bedtime....
My observation? People with central air should turn it the fuck on when it's 80º in the house and nobody can sleep. I'm serious. They have this huge central air unit and NEVER turn it on. I have slept maybe 4 hours ... and I feel like I'm lead-lined.
Venti got good news. The company is flying him out to Seattle. I'm nervous as hell about this. I'll go into more detail later, but right now I'm just wiped out. The trip is a good thing, of course, I just have my own stupid 'issues' about it.
If you have Firefox (and you should) get the extension called StumbleUpon. It's a helluva lot of fun.
Bedtime....
Monday, August 22, 2005
Says it All
Oh my God.
Holy shit.
I just had a moderate hissy-fit encounter with my old boss. She called my house, my cell, and emailed me. She said she was greatly concerned that I'd been in the office over the weekend to collect my things.
The fact that I was in the office upset her - not my getting my things.
Within fifteen minutes of getting her voicemail on my cell phone the keys to the place were in her husband's hands. Then I got home and IMd her. She threw a hissy fit. She totally disregarded what I was saying. She totally ignored the points I made. She acted like a brat - oh, wait ... she wasn't acting. Fucking people with PhDs. Hers is in customer relations, in fact. She has no clue about people - so it's rather ironic.
The conversation...
ME: Hi [owner of business]...I got your messages. I dropped off the keys with [insert HER husband's name here] about 45 minutes ago.
HER: Did you talk to [insert HER husband's name here]?
ME: No - my husband walked them over to him ... [insert HER husband's name here] wished us luck, and that was about it.
HER: Both of us are concerned about how you have handled this situation. Personally I am disppointed that you walked off and didn't come back. I thought you were a very professional person but this past week or so has not been so. None of this makes sense to me.
HER: Just walking quitting and walking off is quite odd. That's all I'm saying.
ME: I became very ill due to the stress i was under. It wasn't a one day kind of illness. I'm still affected by it greatly. I apologized profusely for having to just leave so suddenly, and offered you four weeks of my services from home as that was the best I could do. I'm sorry that wasn't something that would have worked for you.
HER: See, that's the problem. You should have talked to me before you just walked off. I would have gladly worked on a solution with you. But just walking away and not coming back does not speak well for anyone. I sent you an email that day and asked for an estimate to do the webiste work. No reply. Anyway, we do with you the best and hope you find peace wherever you end up. Take care of yourself.
ME: I did not just walk off, though.
ME: I went to the emergency room.
HER: and never came back
HER: never called, nothing
HER: There's nothing we can do about this now. It's done. I do hope you get things worked out. I always thought a lot of you.
ME: I absolutely loved working for [insert company name here]. I really did. I knew I would be leaving soon, and when I saw what [insert ill-treated employee's name here] went through with you - knowing I would have to go through the same thing - I was, naturally, really nervous about discussing my own situation with you.
ME: But, I do wish you the best, and [insert HER husband's name here], as well.
ME: Just one more thing - I couldn't call from the ER, but I did have Venti call [insert HER husband's name here] for me as soon as possible. It wasn't my intention to be unprofessional. I just didn't want you to think I didn't call.
HER: I get the point that you called on Friday. But then you just disappeared. Quit with no notice. That's my disappointment. Whatever you are talking about [insert ill-treated employee's name here] situation, I don't know, but at least he gave us notice and helped us get ready for the transition. You might do that for your next job as I'm sure they will appreciate it too.
ME: Again, I offered you four weeks of assistance. You did not to respond to that part of my email. I did not respond to the website as - in thinking it over - I could not find a way to effectively do that on a contract basis. But, anyway... take care.
I hate Virginia, and most of the people in it.
Sunday, August 21, 2005
What Do you Have to Do???
I mean, I PICKED lottery numbers. I got ONE. One out of six. How dumb is that? They say you're something like twice as likely to be killed in an automobile accident on your way to BUY the ticket than you are to win the jackpot. Damn odds. The California lottery - however - is supposed to be worse. You're more likely to be hit by lightening TWICE than to win that. Glad I don't live there.
Shit. I really needed that money, too. Quitting - no RESIGNING - your job really sucks because then you're not making money. You've been warned.
I've been wondering if I'll get reimbursed for the PTO I didn't take. I had 20 days, and I used 3. Wouldn't THAT be nice! Well, I suppose we'll see at the end of the month. They say the odds of getting reimbursed for your PTO are similar to those of winning the California lottery.
I have a movie line stuck in my head. It's from Shrek 2. I can't stop saying it at any opportune (or inopportune) time. "Look out Shrek! He's got a piece!" hehe Donkey (Eddie Murphy) cracks me the hell up. (omg. I'm lame.)
So. The kids have school supplies, nice new clothing, and the ever-important new sneakers. Being the dumbass that I am, I just realized that I didn't make sure they both had non-marking soles. $120 out the window? We'll see. And what in the HELL is the first day of school doing in August? August 29th? That's messed up.
We're watching Venti's friend's cats. Yes, that's plural. We have a cat of our own who is very shy and somewhat dopic. We love our cat. He does not appreciate the two new cats that will be with us for another week. He got into a fight with the female cat - thank God she's declawed. Our cat is already down to only one eye - (been that way since a kitten) - so man, if she would have punched him in his eye he'd be screwed. I will say that I can now definitively say that my cat DOES, in fact, know how to hiss. He has become "okay" with the other male cat. This other male cat is so mellow it wouldn't be phased if it's tail was on fire. He's cool.
So Venti has off of work all week. Not sure what we're going to do. Oh, wait - I know. Nothing.
Well, we'll probably start packing for our move. By that I mean throw stuff away. Lots of stuff. Moving is expensive so you have to say to yourself (1) is this replaceable? and (2) would it be cheaper to replace it than move it? Most of our stuff falls into the latter category. All of our belongings are basically junk since we never thought we'd be staying here this long. We had a five-year plan, by which I mean "A plan to get the hell out of here that shall not exceed 2 years god damnit!!!" It's been three. We're getting itchy. Oh, there's just something about the weather (100º with "Heat Index Warnings" due to intense humidity every fucking day), the people (95% of which are major fucktards who would rather slit your throat than see you get to the barista in Starbuck's ahead of them), and then there are the people (99.5% of which are major dickheads - men and women alike - who would prefer to keep that stick rammed up their ass rather than look at you and say an actual Hi!)
God, the people here suck. Please - if you're reading this and thinking of moving to northern Virginia or anywhere within a 30-mile radius of Washington D.C. - just let me give you a few facts to help you come to your senses.
Shit. I really needed that money, too. Quitting - no RESIGNING - your job really sucks because then you're not making money. You've been warned.
I've been wondering if I'll get reimbursed for the PTO I didn't take. I had 20 days, and I used 3. Wouldn't THAT be nice! Well, I suppose we'll see at the end of the month. They say the odds of getting reimbursed for your PTO are similar to those of winning the California lottery.
I have a movie line stuck in my head. It's from Shrek 2. I can't stop saying it at any opportune (or inopportune) time. "Look out Shrek! He's got a piece!" hehe Donkey (Eddie Murphy) cracks me the hell up. (omg. I'm lame.)
So. The kids have school supplies, nice new clothing, and the ever-important new sneakers. Being the dumbass that I am, I just realized that I didn't make sure they both had non-marking soles. $120 out the window? We'll see. And what in the HELL is the first day of school doing in August? August 29th? That's messed up.
We're watching Venti's friend's cats. Yes, that's plural. We have a cat of our own who is very shy and somewhat dopic. We love our cat. He does not appreciate the two new cats that will be with us for another week. He got into a fight with the female cat - thank God she's declawed. Our cat is already down to only one eye - (been that way since a kitten) - so man, if she would have punched him in his eye he'd be screwed. I will say that I can now definitively say that my cat DOES, in fact, know how to hiss. He has become "okay" with the other male cat. This other male cat is so mellow it wouldn't be phased if it's tail was on fire. He's cool.
So Venti has off of work all week. Not sure what we're going to do. Oh, wait - I know. Nothing.
Well, we'll probably start packing for our move. By that I mean throw stuff away. Lots of stuff. Moving is expensive so you have to say to yourself (1) is this replaceable? and (2) would it be cheaper to replace it than move it? Most of our stuff falls into the latter category. All of our belongings are basically junk since we never thought we'd be staying here this long. We had a five-year plan, by which I mean "A plan to get the hell out of here that shall not exceed 2 years god damnit!!!" It's been three. We're getting itchy. Oh, there's just something about the weather (100º with "Heat Index Warnings" due to intense humidity every fucking day), the people (95% of which are major fucktards who would rather slit your throat than see you get to the barista in Starbuck's ahead of them), and then there are the people (99.5% of which are major dickheads - men and women alike - who would prefer to keep that stick rammed up their ass rather than look at you and say an actual Hi!)
God, the people here suck. Please - if you're reading this and thinking of moving to northern Virginia or anywhere within a 30-mile radius of Washington D.C. - just let me give you a few facts to help you come to your senses.
- Nobody here will like you. You will not know your neighbor's names no matter how many times you try to say hello.
- You will be overworked and underpaid.
- You WILL sit in traffic for most of your waking life. Your commute will be a fucking nightmare because nobody - I repeat - NOBODY here knows how to drive. (Except me and Venti.)
- You will be one of the first people in the country to see $3 for gas.
- You will not be able to buy groceries on your cutesy old little grocery budget. Don't believe me? Go to Giant and enter zip code 20166 and compare your weekly circular to the one on that site. Yeah. Hamburger is ON SALE for almost $4 a pound. It is cheaper to eat out.
- Eating out won't be a problem. You'll do it alot. The food will suck, the staff will hate you, and your order will never be right. They will all treat you like shit. Every time you order food for delivery it will be wrong. They will forget something and it will taste grim.
- People are REALLY stupid. Everybody from IT directors to convenience store workers. Most likely your IT director won't know what http means. Your 7-11 cashier might know what http stands for, but will not be able to make change for your gatorade. And they won't speak English.
- There are more people here that do not speak English than do. The people who do speak English, but very poorly, have been lumped into the "don't speak English" category. This leaves approximately 30% of the population who you will be able to communicate with. (Don't get me wrong, I am in awe of people who can learn a second language. Go them! I just hate not being able to ask anyone anything.)
- When you go through a drive-thru anywhere you will be at least the 12th car.
- Your boss will hate you. I'm not being funny. They will hate you.
- Brand names are big. Your kids must be labeled or they won't fit in. Old Navy isn't good enough. If you put all Old Navy on your kid their "well, we used to be friends, but...." will think that one of their parents recently lost your security clearance and the other had a nervous breakdown. (Happens all the time.) If you have a small child under the age of five they must be wearing Gap, Land's End, LL Bean, Gymboree, or preferably boutique brands.
- You may never shop at WalMart again. You will be totally looked down upon. You will be disgusted with the store (if you already weren't). You will walk 3/4 of a mile to get to your car. You will stand in line for (I shit you not) 45 minutes to check out. I haven't been to WalMart in a year and feel much better about myself as a person. Nobody will be able to help you because even if English is their fist language they'll pretend they don't see you. If they decide to speak to you it will be by yelling. (on your part and theirs) You will realize that Target is the only place to go for that crap you don't need anyway.
- When you go to the post office - the very fucking small post offices because nobody fucking planned on how big and fast everything would develop here - some fucking bitch in a maroon SUV with "I'm a Christian, you suck", "My kids are honor students of God", and "Vote 4 Bush" stickers on it WILL bang their fucking cheap-ass SUV doors into your $40,000 limited edition vehicle (and I don't mean a gold Camry LE - I mean a Passat W8) and when you say "Hey, you dented my car!" the bitch will say "Uhm, yeah. Like, I don't think so." and walk away while you scrape Maroon paint off of your car with your fingernail. You will want to harm them - but won't, because their children are with them wondering why their mommy has a stick in her ass and was just so mean to "that lady." This is just a "for instance" - not like it ever happened to me. (That fucking BITCH.)
- You WILL definitely need to secure your wireless internet connection. Not that you shouldn't always, but there will be someone using it if it's an open connection.
- You WILL need to come up with a really clever personalized license plate. You will spend hours trying to figure out what everyone else's mean. They're free in VA, and yes, I have one.
- You will pay $400,000 for a (VERY poorly built!!) 3 bedroom townhouse in a neighborhood that's going to shit. The one on the corner down from me just did. Three years ago it was $200,000. (Don't think this is a good thing - the market just died.) You will also have NO parking because your neighbors have 4 kids and the family owns 7 (I shit you not) cars.
- Nobody stays here for very many years except people who like being major assholes. Please don't be alarmed at how often people around you will move in and move out. Many people realize what a mistake they've made, cut ties, then run like hell. (Decaf raises hand.)
- Nobody will have a ladder. Don't even bother asking around.
- Xanax, Klonopin, and other anti-anxiety medications will almost always be out of stock at all nine drugstores in your area. I'm not joking. Everyone here is maxed out and ready to explode with stress.
- If you have a medical emergency be prepared to wait five weeks to be seen by a doctor. (I'm not kidding in the least.)
- Nowhere in the country - NOWHERE - will you find meaner, nastier, more thoughtless doctors, nurses, or front-desk medical receptionists. The chiropractors are even mean. It's like a Jiffy-Lube for people. They don't give a shit WHY you feel the way you do and will have no problem signing for their lunch order before attending to you (while you stand there with a kid with a broken arm. I shit you not.)
- If you're not an aggressive driver don't move here. You will be in an accident. I'm not joking. People will hit you just to make a point. The point is (1) They're fucking stupid. and (2) They're fucking mean.
- You will try to save money by stopping at a yard sale. You will be looking at a used shirt with a price tag on it of $10. Nothing costs $1 - let alone a quarter - here.
- Those cute little farm stands? The ones with the fresh produce? Yeah - they're mean, too.
- If you have a slight weight problem people will laugh at you. If you are overweight, or God forbid, extremely overweight you WILL be outright looked at in disdain as if you are polluting the landscape with your very presence. There are more exercise-obsessed, diet-obsessed, I have to be a size 3!! women here than anywhere I've ever seen. And they're MEAN. (This goes for caucasion house-wive's mostly. This does not go for black woman who are 1000% times nicer than any white woman around here (except me). Why couldn't I have been a black woman? Life sucks.)
- VT means Virginia Tech. Love it or leave. I choose to leave. Fuck Virginia Tech!! All the way man!!!! You WILL see more VT flags on cars, trucks, as curtains, bumper stickers, mugs, shirts, etc., than you would see Nascar flags in West Virginia. These people suffer major cock-pride over their VT shit. It's sickening.
- Your doorbell will ring with people asking about your neighbors as they try to get their security clearance. You won't know your neighbors well enough to answer. By the time you think of something good to say your neighbor will have moved away, so don't bother.
- There is no good coffee. They even fuck it up at Starbucks. Venti went into a coffee/pie shop (very cutesy) and asked for a latte. The dimwit short-bus girl behind the counter blinked at him. She'd never heard of a latte. WTF? The best coffee I've had has been at home. Okay, there are coffee shops that probably don't have terrible coffee, but the people there will suck and the lines are ridiculously long. If you order a Doppio (2 shots espresso, 1 shot hot water) they will say DOPE-EO instead of Dop-e-o. It's just bad coffee juju here.
- You will get your neighbor's mail. Your neighbors will get yours. You will give your neighbors theirs, but don't think for a second they'll give you yours.
- I think I could go on endlessly, but it's Sunday and I have to go for a drive and get some shitty coffee.
Thursday, August 18, 2005
True Facts
True Facts: "If you hook Jell-O up to an EEG, it registers movements almost identical to a human adult's brain waves."
True Facts
True Facts: "
The day after President George W. Bush was reelected, Canada's main immigration website had 115,000 visitors. Before Bush's re-election, this site averaged about 20,000 visitors each day."
The day after President George W. Bush was reelected, Canada's main immigration website had 115,000 visitors. Before Bush's re-election, this site averaged about 20,000 visitors each day."
True Facts
True Facts: "A perfect SAT score is 1600 combined. Bill Gates scored 1590 on his SAT. Paul Allen, Bill's partner in Microsoft, scored a perfect 1600. Bill Cosby scored less than 500 combined."
SimilarMinds.com > Visual Pattern Fluid Intelligence Test Results
SimilarMinds.com > Visual Pattern Fluid Intelligence Test Results: "Visual Pattern Fluid Intelligence Test Results
Sir Francis Galton, the cousin of Charles Darwin, first popularized the notion of measurable intelligence in the late 1800s. Charles Spearman later discovered that all mental abilities tend to correlate together when statistically analyzed. He called this G. Modern researchers tend to agree that there are two kinds of intelligence, crystallized intelligence (learned knowledge) and fluid intelligence (abstract processing ability). Most non-verbal intelligence tests measure the latter. Some research suggests that fluid intelligence may correlate best to G.
Your overall percentile is 28% which means you scored higher than 28% of the people who have taken this test. The internet population tends to be more intelligent so your percentile might be higher if the test taking sample was perfectly random. Keep in mind, taking this test more than once will render your percentile score inaccurate because the percentile score assumes these questions were fresh to the test taker.
The point of this test is to challenge you and show you how you compare to other test takers on a set of novel questions. Consequently, I need to keep the answers secret to protect the integrity of the test.
"
Sir Francis Galton, the cousin of Charles Darwin, first popularized the notion of measurable intelligence in the late 1800s. Charles Spearman later discovered that all mental abilities tend to correlate together when statistically analyzed. He called this G. Modern researchers tend to agree that there are two kinds of intelligence, crystallized intelligence (learned knowledge) and fluid intelligence (abstract processing ability). Most non-verbal intelligence tests measure the latter. Some research suggests that fluid intelligence may correlate best to G.
Your overall percentile is 28% which means you scored higher than 28% of the people who have taken this test. The internet population tends to be more intelligent so your percentile might be higher if the test taking sample was perfectly random. Keep in mind, taking this test more than once will render your percentile score inaccurate because the percentile score assumes these questions were fresh to the test taker.
The point of this test is to challenge you and show you how you compare to other test takers on a set of novel questions. Consequently, I need to keep the answers secret to protect the integrity of the test.
"
What Places In The World Match Your Personality?
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| Your personality type is RLUAI |
| You are reserved, moody, unstructured, accommodating, and intellectual, and may prefer a city which matches those traits. |
| The largest representation of your personality type can be found in the these U.S. cities: Washington DC, Portland/Salem, Richmond, New Orleans, Norfolk, Denver, Albuquerque/Santa Fe, Kansas City, St. Louis, New York City, Indianapolis, San Antonio and these international countries/regions Slovenia, Croatia, Caribbean, Czech Republic, Netherlands, Belgium, Guam, Ukraine, Argentina, Greece, Brazil, Israel, Wales, Finland, Germany, Poland |
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SimilarMinds.com > Test Results
SimilarMinds.com > Test Results: "
Free Jung Personality Test (similar to Myers-Briggs/MBTI)"
| INFP - 'Questor'. High capacity for caring. Emotional face to the world. High sense of honor derived from internal values. 4.4% of total population. |
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
Ha! I Posted in Less Than a Month!
I quit my job. No. I resigned with four weeks notice, actually. This marks the first job I ever resigned via email. I like it better than a letter or message on an answering machine. (My boss did not take the 4-weeks notice and wanted me to finish designing the company's website via contract - which would be more than she's paying me for a salary. Uhm - these things don't happen in 2 days. It takes a bit more than that to build a website.)
Yesterday was my first day home all day long with the three kids. Wow. Man, they have energy and moods. Today Tall and Grande are going to visit PA to be with their dad. He'll be here in a few hours and will be taking muh-boyzzz away from me for four days. Ass. Grande is getting his braces removed after something like five years - that's tomorrow, and I can't wait to see his great smile minus the metal. He's pretty happy about it, too.
So, why did I quit my job? Well, it's a complicated story that ends in a full blown panic attack. I'm sure I've captured a huge audience by now, so here goes...
As you may have read my family plan is to move to Seattle by January. We're getting close to January. Venti has three jobs in the works. One is quite unlikely, one is "could still happen", and one is "almost definitely going to happen." He's on his 4th phone interview with them so they MUST like him alot. Phone interview today at 12:30, phone interview tonight or tomorrow night with the guy who initially referred him, and then all-fingers-and-everything-possible-crossed, an in-person interview next Friday. (This means a flight, which they'll pay for, thank God.)
So, I know for a fact (okay, a 90% probability) that I'm going to have to resign my job in 2 weeks or so anyway, and I'm standing outside of work talking with a co-worker when the owner pulls up looking like Don Johnson in Miami Vice. Convertible top down, unfashionable sunglasses, bad hair, and music blaring. Co-worker goes in after saying a short "mornin." I'm left standing there with a full cigarette and nothing to say to owner.
Owner has several interviews coming up to hire someone to finally, after six months, replace the guy that left when I started my job. This guy was supposed to take some of the slack off of boss, and he did - then he left, and I took the slack off as best as I could. Boss tells me he's going to want to get together with me and talk about where I see my career with [insert company name here] going because it's going to affect his hiring decision. I'm trying to smoke this cigarette real fast. I mean, think about it.
How am I going to answer this? I can't outright tell him I'm going to be resigning in two weeks. He thinks I'm there for the long haul. (I did, too, when I first started.) I start hyperventilating and getting dizzy and so I put my cigarette out and hang on to the door handle, half-way in the building, half-way out listening to him ramble. Don't I look BUSY??? He finally let me go.
So. This happens to be a Friday. This also happens to be the last day of work for another of my co-workers. We'll call him AOL. So, AOL had a really unfortunate time after giving his three-weeks of notice. The boss's boss/wife who owns the company came down cruelly and harshly on the guy. He asked for his PTO balance of five days and from there things just went way south. She turned psycho-bitch on him. I felt so bad for the guy. His wife had just lost her job, too.
(God. The phone just rang and I answered it and had to quick stop myself from saying "Thank you for calling [insert company name here], this is Decaf. How may I help you?" DUH.)
So. It's last day of work for AOL and even though the owner has been a mighty cruel wench, her husband has decided that he's going to buy lunch for everyone and I have to take orders and call it in. What is this? A fucking celebration??? AOL walked in and I asked him what kind of lunch he wanted - Italian or Chinese? I felt really stupid. Like I was asking him what he wanted for his last meal on death row. He went with Italian, so that's what everyone got. Anyway, so I'm really anxious by this point and had a hard time calling the lunch order in.
I kept thinking about sitting upstairs in a conference room with those guys, everyone knowing AOL's been treated terribly and would probably rather being sticking pins beneath his fingernails than be sitting there eating lunch with everyone. I keep picturing it.
My thoughts, once again, turned to how they're going to treat ME when I resign, which I know I'm going to do soon. Hyperventilating began to get worse at this point.
Well, I passed that invisible line where a panic attack is in your mind to where your adrenal gland opens up and fire-hoses adrenaline into your bloodstream. That was it. I called Venti, told him to get there fast, and he did. 12 minutes. I wrote a note on a yellow sticky note that said "Suddenly very ill." and ran out to the car. I swallowed a xanax and cursed the little blue fucker for not working immediately. Who has sixty-minutes to feel like that when they're sure they're going to die in 1 minute? Oh, and does the panic come in waves? Uhm...YES. It was fucking awful. I had taken 2mg of xanax by the time I started telling Venti to dial 911. I didn't know what they'd do for me because in the back BACK back of my mind I knew the panic would pass, but I didn't know what to do.
He opted for driving me to the ER. Once I got there I managed to walk in and get taken care of. My blood pressure and pulse were fine, my heart was fine, however [shocker] I was having a major panic attack. The nurse talked to me about her panic attacks and calmed me down. By this time the xanax had gotten into my system, finally. I was no longer panicking, but I was incredibly tired and just wanted to leave. 45 minutes later the doctor came in and told me I'd had a panic attack and gave me some immediate-release Klonopin in case it happened again. I'm scared to take them.
So, I get to go and see Dr. Decaf on Friday because now I'm just panicking every day. I'm going to get on something. I don't know what. Probably, in all likelihood, Lexapro. It's worth a shot. I know my neice didn't gain weight on it, and she also drinks alcohol while taking it. I haven't had a drink in almost three fucking years!!! Do you KNOW what I'd do for a margarita? Just one big-ass margarita on a hot summer day on my deck???
Anyway...so I quit for many reasons...
I'm scared about moving. We'll be driving 3,000 miles. I keep thinking about Montana and South Dakota and how they go on forever, and what if, what if, what if, I have a major panic attack out there in the middle of Home on the Range? Thus, the trip to Dr. Decaf on Friday. I'm not so scared about actually living in Washington and not having any friends around. I don't know anyone here, so it's no big deal. I am nervous about Venti working across the water - hours away if I need him. This terrifies me more than anything. Thus, the trip to Dr. Decaf on Friday.
So. Now that I'm a SAHM again I don't remember how this whole thing works, and I'm trying to remember what the shit is that I'm supposed to be doing every day. It's coming back like a brick through the window as I hear Short Decaf saying MORE SHREK MORE SHREK MORE SHREK. That's right. I'm supposed to put DVDs in and make sure all kids are fed, clean, and get mental stimulation. Then there's a big-ass house that needs to be taken care of. I don't believe that SAHMs don't get money - a paycheck - from the government. This is a bitch of a job.
Oh, I did something smart last night. Woot! Score one for me! Venti had a question on his phone interview. It was a "Microsoft question." Whatever the hell that is. So you've got a windowless room with three lights in it, one door, and you are outside the room and can only go in once. How can you definitively tell which lightswitch goes to which light? I got it pretty fast. Dave said the guy on the phone interview said not to feel bad because nobody gets it. hehe. The answer is touch the lightbulbs - the definitive switch is pinpointed by flipping the first switch for five minutes, the second switch for a few seconds, and the third one not at all - then go in the room and feel the lightbulb.
One problem with that answer - I had to wonder if you could write on the switchplate so that you could remember which one you left on for five minutes. That's the shit I always fuck up. Yeah, I can get the answer - but I fuck up those little details all the time. That's me. Tard.
I learned almost nothing new at my job which I just quit. I can use PowerBuilder and SQL something or other. Use in a very limited fashion, but use non-the-less. I also now type a constant 100 wpm +.
Well, this brings us pretty much up to date.
Yesterday was my first day home all day long with the three kids. Wow. Man, they have energy and moods. Today Tall and Grande are going to visit PA to be with their dad. He'll be here in a few hours and will be taking muh-boyzzz away from me for four days. Ass. Grande is getting his braces removed after something like five years - that's tomorrow, and I can't wait to see his great smile minus the metal. He's pretty happy about it, too.
So, why did I quit my job? Well, it's a complicated story that ends in a full blown panic attack. I'm sure I've captured a huge audience by now, so here goes...
As you may have read my family plan is to move to Seattle by January. We're getting close to January. Venti has three jobs in the works. One is quite unlikely, one is "could still happen", and one is "almost definitely going to happen." He's on his 4th phone interview with them so they MUST like him alot. Phone interview today at 12:30, phone interview tonight or tomorrow night with the guy who initially referred him, and then all-fingers-and-everything-possible-crossed, an in-person interview next Friday. (This means a flight, which they'll pay for, thank God.)
So, I know for a fact (okay, a 90% probability) that I'm going to have to resign my job in 2 weeks or so anyway, and I'm standing outside of work talking with a co-worker when the owner pulls up looking like Don Johnson in Miami Vice. Convertible top down, unfashionable sunglasses, bad hair, and music blaring. Co-worker goes in after saying a short "mornin." I'm left standing there with a full cigarette and nothing to say to owner.
Owner has several interviews coming up to hire someone to finally, after six months, replace the guy that left when I started my job. This guy was supposed to take some of the slack off of boss, and he did - then he left, and I took the slack off as best as I could. Boss tells me he's going to want to get together with me and talk about where I see my career with [insert company name here] going because it's going to affect his hiring decision. I'm trying to smoke this cigarette real fast. I mean, think about it.
How am I going to answer this? I can't outright tell him I'm going to be resigning in two weeks. He thinks I'm there for the long haul. (I did, too, when I first started.) I start hyperventilating and getting dizzy and so I put my cigarette out and hang on to the door handle, half-way in the building, half-way out listening to him ramble. Don't I look BUSY??? He finally let me go.
So. This happens to be a Friday. This also happens to be the last day of work for another of my co-workers. We'll call him AOL. So, AOL had a really unfortunate time after giving his three-weeks of notice. The boss's boss/wife who owns the company came down cruelly and harshly on the guy. He asked for his PTO balance of five days and from there things just went way south. She turned psycho-bitch on him. I felt so bad for the guy. His wife had just lost her job, too.
(God. The phone just rang and I answered it and had to quick stop myself from saying "Thank you for calling [insert company name here], this is Decaf. How may I help you?" DUH.)
So. It's last day of work for AOL and even though the owner has been a mighty cruel wench, her husband has decided that he's going to buy lunch for everyone and I have to take orders and call it in. What is this? A fucking celebration??? AOL walked in and I asked him what kind of lunch he wanted - Italian or Chinese? I felt really stupid. Like I was asking him what he wanted for his last meal on death row. He went with Italian, so that's what everyone got. Anyway, so I'm really anxious by this point and had a hard time calling the lunch order in.
I kept thinking about sitting upstairs in a conference room with those guys, everyone knowing AOL's been treated terribly and would probably rather being sticking pins beneath his fingernails than be sitting there eating lunch with everyone. I keep picturing it.
My thoughts, once again, turned to how they're going to treat ME when I resign, which I know I'm going to do soon. Hyperventilating began to get worse at this point.
Well, I passed that invisible line where a panic attack is in your mind to where your adrenal gland opens up and fire-hoses adrenaline into your bloodstream. That was it. I called Venti, told him to get there fast, and he did. 12 minutes. I wrote a note on a yellow sticky note that said "Suddenly very ill." and ran out to the car. I swallowed a xanax and cursed the little blue fucker for not working immediately. Who has sixty-minutes to feel like that when they're sure they're going to die in 1 minute? Oh, and does the panic come in waves? Uhm...YES. It was fucking awful. I had taken 2mg of xanax by the time I started telling Venti to dial 911. I didn't know what they'd do for me because in the back BACK back of my mind I knew the panic would pass, but I didn't know what to do.
He opted for driving me to the ER. Once I got there I managed to walk in and get taken care of. My blood pressure and pulse were fine, my heart was fine, however [shocker] I was having a major panic attack. The nurse talked to me about her panic attacks and calmed me down. By this time the xanax had gotten into my system, finally. I was no longer panicking, but I was incredibly tired and just wanted to leave. 45 minutes later the doctor came in and told me I'd had a panic attack and gave me some immediate-release Klonopin in case it happened again. I'm scared to take them.
So, I get to go and see Dr. Decaf on Friday because now I'm just panicking every day. I'm going to get on something. I don't know what. Probably, in all likelihood, Lexapro. It's worth a shot. I know my neice didn't gain weight on it, and she also drinks alcohol while taking it. I haven't had a drink in almost three fucking years!!! Do you KNOW what I'd do for a margarita? Just one big-ass margarita on a hot summer day on my deck???
Anyway...so I quit for many reasons...
- Panic attack on Friday because the owner of the company was an total jerk to a co-worker over his quitting.
- Knowing I'd be quitting soon and scared shitless about how they'd treat me.
- Moving to Seattle in a month or so.
- I missed my kids. Alot.
I'm scared about moving. We'll be driving 3,000 miles. I keep thinking about Montana and South Dakota and how they go on forever, and what if, what if, what if, I have a major panic attack out there in the middle of Home on the Range? Thus, the trip to Dr. Decaf on Friday. I'm not so scared about actually living in Washington and not having any friends around. I don't know anyone here, so it's no big deal. I am nervous about Venti working across the water - hours away if I need him. This terrifies me more than anything. Thus, the trip to Dr. Decaf on Friday.
So. Now that I'm a SAHM again I don't remember how this whole thing works, and I'm trying to remember what the shit is that I'm supposed to be doing every day. It's coming back like a brick through the window as I hear Short Decaf saying MORE SHREK MORE SHREK MORE SHREK. That's right. I'm supposed to put DVDs in and make sure all kids are fed, clean, and get mental stimulation. Then there's a big-ass house that needs to be taken care of. I don't believe that SAHMs don't get money - a paycheck - from the government. This is a bitch of a job.
Oh, I did something smart last night. Woot! Score one for me! Venti had a question on his phone interview. It was a "Microsoft question." Whatever the hell that is. So you've got a windowless room with three lights in it, one door, and you are outside the room and can only go in once. How can you definitively tell which lightswitch goes to which light? I got it pretty fast. Dave said the guy on the phone interview said not to feel bad because nobody gets it. hehe. The answer is touch the lightbulbs - the definitive switch is pinpointed by flipping the first switch for five minutes, the second switch for a few seconds, and the third one not at all - then go in the room and feel the lightbulb.
One problem with that answer - I had to wonder if you could write on the switchplate so that you could remember which one you left on for five minutes. That's the shit I always fuck up. Yeah, I can get the answer - but I fuck up those little details all the time. That's me. Tard.
I learned almost nothing new at my job which I just quit. I can use PowerBuilder and SQL something or other. Use in a very limited fashion, but use non-the-less. I also now type a constant 100 wpm +.
Well, this brings us pretty much up to date.
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