Archive for the ‘Stupidity’ Category

hooplove So, I’m sitting here at work, basically just trying to keep myself sane until 5pm, when I decide it’s definitely time for a blog update. My poor bloggy has been so neglected, sometimes I think I should just give it up and hit the delete button, but then I remember all the really good stuff I’ve written here and I just can’t bring myself to do it. I tell myself that I’ll get better, and post more often, but as they say, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions, and apparently so is the internets. Good intentions and porn.

Things have not really changed too much since my last post. I’m still struggling in a job I can now say that I honestly hate. It’s not the position at all-I love my role as a receptionist. It’s actually what’s going on within the restructuring of the company as well as the behind the scenes drama-rama that’s just making everyone insane. It’s only getting worse with each day. Needless to say, I am looking for another job-no big surprise there, right?

I think I’d like to do something a lot less receptionist-y, and maybe more administrative. I have mad admin skillz! *sillygrin* I’d also really enjoy something in which I could actually use my college degrees-maybe editing or proofreading?

Of course, if I won the lottery and became a multimillionaire, this would all be a moot point and I’d be writing blog updates from Cabo, so maybe I should just better start working on that!

My dad is doing well, though we’ve been told he’s reaching the end of his physical therapies and will need to be moved to a permanent, semi-private room soon. He’s no longer a candidate for assisted living as he is still very impulsive about his decisions and is not very ambulatory by himself. What this means of course, is we’ll now have to switch to private pay and begin the whole process for applying to Medicaid. What a pain in the ass.

I just began another bellydancing session with Michelle at The Goddess Hour. Loves it! I’ve also been working a lot on my hoopdancing with the help of online tutorials and I found a wicked awesome online hoop community, Safire Dance, through Safire’s youtube hooping tutorials. I’m not brave enough yet to post my own hoop video-I fear I still look like a seizure victim at times and I’ve not lost that “learning a new trick” face of utter concentration. When I’m more confident in my skills and flow, I will definitely post some vids!

I have some new pics to post too, which I’ll try to do either tonight or sometime soon.



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thoughtfulfae.jpg My father has worn wingtips his entire life, or at least as long as I have known him. He had wingtips he would wear to the office, and shiny, flashy wingtips he would wear for a night out. He would wear a pair of old battered wingtips to putter around in the yard or to take a walk or a bike ride. He always wore dress slacks or work slacks as well, with the constant button down collared shirt. No shorts, jeans, or sweatshirts for my dad. I’m not sure why he was so opposed to wearing casual, comfortable clothes however I can speculate that maybe his style of dress was simply a reflection of how he felt inside, and how he viewed the outside world around him.

Recently, my dad has begun wearing sneakers, as they are required during his physical therapy. His therapists had me buy a size larger than what he had requested because, come to find out, he had been wearing the wrong size his entire adult life. The size I got him was perfect and for the first time in his life, my dad was wearing comfortable shoes in the correct fit. Even now, weeks later, he seems always amazed at how comfortable they are and how good his feet feel.

Last night at the hospital, I had an opportunity to see my dad’s bare feet as they stuck out from beneath his covers when the nurse asked him to wiggle his toes. His feet are deformed and knotty looking from years and years of stuffing his feet into too small a shoe size. They look painfully awful and I can’t help but think how sad it is, that he’s lived his whole life this way.

In fact, his feet are kind of an analogy for how he’s lived his whole life. Uncomfortable with himself, I think, and with others around him, he used formality as a type of wall to close himself off from the world. He would rather live pinched and uncomfortable than open himself up to things he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, understand. Maybe he feels that by doing without any luxuries or comfort, and suffering silently on a daily basis, that that somehow makes him better than everyone else, stronger, more resilient.

We all end up at the same place eventually. Time has a way of creeping up on us. It’s difficult for me to understand my dad and his quirks and eccentricities, and I have long given up trying to “help” him see another side of things. Now, I smile and make small talk, and bite back the remarks that might argue or upset. We have never had a bond or a connection, we have never had an in-depth conversation, and perhaps it for this very reason. It pleases me though now to know that at the very least I was able to give my dad a comfortable pair of shoes.


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…so says my hubby.

There’s nothing quite like coming home after a hard day’s work to find cat vomit on the bed. Even though we have the four, it’s pretty easy to figure out who exactly the culprit is. Willow.

If Willow were a person, she would be Rosie Perez. She’s got that whole ghetto superstar thing down. She’s a little psychotic, a bit neurotic, and a whole lot of bitchy.

She doesn’t like her long fur. She would rather be naked, and when we get her shaved down in a lion cut, she prances around like she just knows she’s the shit. We haven’t taken her to the groomer’s in awhile, so she’s taken the task on herself of eliminating her fur by pulling it out in mouthfuls here and there as part of her daily cleaning routine. This explains the hairballs.

Willow spends probably 95% of her time on the bed. She only gets down to eat and to use the potty. She likes to sleep. When she’s not sleeping on the bed, she’s “monitoring the situation.”

Regardless, puke on the bed means more laundry for me, and I was almost caught up, darn it. So after throwing a couple blankets in the wash & towels in the dryer, Craig and I were off to Home Depot to find a solution for another issue. Stupid, inconsiderate neighbors.

Earlier in the year, our dear friends next door sold their home and moved away. The people they sold to, Kim and Mike, are the most inconsiderate, thoughtless people I have ever had the unfortunate opportunity to neighbor with. They are constantly, every day, using our driveway to pull in and out of their own tiny driveway, rather than move one of their own cars so they can get out or drive on their own lawn to back out. All without asking for permission. It’s driving Craig and I insane.

Twice this summer, we’ve come home to find a gigantic woodchipper and dump truck in our runway sized driveway because they’re chopping down trees in their backyard. They have never once asked us if this is ok. I’m sure it never even crossed their minds.

(Maybe I should send them a copy of “Fargo”…?)

It seems pretty cut and dried, doesn’t it? Just ask them to stop using our property? Well, here’s where it gets sticky.

Apparently, there’s several inches of our driveway on their land according to the survey map. It’s been this way forever, and we were told about this before we bought the house. However, with the previous neighbors it was not an issue. They were great friends of ours. They always asked if they needed to use the driveway. It never became a day to day habit.

We’ve looked into correcting this problem in the spring by removing the offending piece of driveway, but according to the town, we would need a lawyer and so would they, we’d need their permission, etc…and it’s apparently not as simple as we had thought it would be. Sounds pretty costly. I dunno. We’re going to look into that more closely.

In the meantime though, it’s inches. Not the whole friggin’ driveway, so stop using it like you own it, bitches.

We thought maybe we’d get those reflector thingees you poke into the ground and just line that side of the driveway with them, but we’d need stands or something because the land on the other side of the driveway belongs to them. I’ve thought maybe of getting some big landscaping rocks, big enough they can’t drive over them, and lining the driveway with those, but Craig is worried about ruining the blacktop with sink marks.

We’ve also talked about just going over there and talking to them about it, but we’re concerned it would backfire on us.

I’m really at my wit’s end with these people. Do you all have any ideas? Please leave a comment! The guy at Home Depot last night suggested a shot gun. *grinchuckle* I’m not sure we’re ready to go quite that far.


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snow.gif In light of it being Friday the 13th, I thought I would share a creepy story with you, something that really happened to me…something that completely freaked me out.

After graduating high school in DE, I moved up to NY to attend college. I was living with my dad, and dating a really nice guy, Jeff, whom I had met at school. I was eighteen, and like most eighteen year olds, I knew it all. *rolls eyes*

Well, Halloween night, Jeff and I decided to hang at my house, and hand out candy and watch scary movies, while my dad did laundry downstairs in the basement. Getting into the spirit of things, so to speak, we decided to pull out my Ouija board and mess around with it. I had only ever used the Ouija board with my mom, and both of us being very strong conductors, we’d had really good “reception.” We also knew how to protect ourselves, which is crucially important when working with a spirit board.

After setting things up, we jumped right in, and made contact right away with a spirit who claimed to be a young boy from the 1800s. As most spirits go, his spelling was a bit sketchy, but he was very energetic and eager to work with us. After asking a few questions of this spirit, Jeff was not convinced that I wasn’t moving the pointer myself. We began to ask personal questions that we already knew the answer to, but that the other person would have no idea about, in order to prove the validity of the spirit. I began to notice that I could “hear” the answer in my head before it was spelled out on the board. I started to ask questions in my mind then, and watched as they were answered impeccably on the board. Jeff began to get a little suspicious as I became more intent and silent, and so I made an effort to continue chatting, glossing over what I was doing exactly when Jeff began asking questions.

As I started to feel comfortable with what was going on, I began to feel pretty brave, and was soon asking the spirit to do things like tickle Jeff’s nose in order to make him scratch it, and so forth. Jeff continued on, unaware of what I was doing, as all of these transactions were taking place in my head. I was astounded-I had never had such an interaction before, and while I was nervous & a little scared, the excitement of it all drove me forward unrelentingly. I did realize that what I was doing, without my friend’s knowledge or consent, was technically against his will, but I ignored any squeaks of protest my guilty conscious made, as well as any screams of danger my intuition uttered, and plundered ever onward.

It wasn’t long before I asked the spirit if it could “enter” my friend and communicate verbally with me. It expressed that it could. My next question was, if I allowed this to take place, would it “leave” Jeff when I asked it to do so. It expressed that it would. I mulled this over for a while, before asking the question again in as many different ways as I could think of. The spirit always replied the same, that it would do as I had bid it. I made it swear & promise several times, disregarding completely everything I had been taught about the spirit world, and while I was smart enough not to trust it completely, I must have given it a little of my trust to listen to it, and to do what I did next.

Taking a deep breath, and crossing my fingers, I asked the spirit to enter Jeff. Watching closely, I saw Jeff’s facial expression change dramatically. The way he held himself seemed to shift. Something behind his eyes seemed different, scared in a wild sort of way, like an animal almost. Suddenly terrified, I ordered the spirit to leave Jeff immediately. It did. I watched Jeff, and chatted with him a bit to reassure myself that he was, in fact, alright & perfectly sound. He had no idea what I had just done. Seeing him unharmed by my little “experiment” emboldened me further and so I tried it again, and watched mesmerized as Jeff seemed to change right before my eyes. He stared at me as I watched him, and when the phone suddenly rung, he jumped like he had never heard such a noise before. Wide-eyed, his whole body tensed, he watched as I answered it & quickly hung up. I got him a popsicle out of the freezer, and after unwrapping it for him, placed it in his hand. He didn’t know what to do with it. I had to show him, after which he gobbled it down. He wouldn’t verbally communicate with me really-I remember a very few one word answers, and several nods & shakes of the head. Communicating with the spirit in my head now seemed a little different now as well, I think because the spirit wasn’t as focused. He was very caught up in looking around and touching things. He would listen to me, but I couldn’t seem to hold his attention for very long.

I left the spirit in Jeff’s body for about 30 minutes or so, and having begun to worry a bit about “evicting” him from the physical world, I ordered him to leave Jeff’s body and my house and return to the place from whence he came. Jeff’s body seemed to deflate a bit once the spirit left, his face shifting slightly again, back into a more Jeff-like expression. He told me he didn’t feel well, he felt very tired, and was really thirsty. After getting him a glass of water to sip, and something to eat, he asked me if he had fallen asleep. He continued to complain of drowsiness, and he wanted to go home, but I wouldn’t let him at first, I wanted to make sure he was okay. After another 30 minutes or so, I let him leave, reassured that everything was fine, he just felt drained. I continued to let him assume that he had fallen asleep while watching TV. The next day he was fine, right as rain. I never spoke of this to him, and I stopped dating him shortly after this occurrence.

Older and wiser for many, many years now, I know how many mistakes I made, and count myself as extremely lucky that nothing terrible happened. I knew then that I was swimming with the sharks at the deep end of the ocean, but being just another stupid eighteen year old, I believed myself invincible and chose willfully to ignore everything I had been taught.

I would not advise anyone to try what I did without knowing exactly what you’re getting in to, how to protect yourself & any others involved completely, and how to fix any issue or problem that may arise. Never summon anything unless you are 100% sure how to send it back, and have a back up plan. Never involve anyone without his or her knowledgeable consent.


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