Thursday, September 11, 2003


I don't have much to say about today being the anniversary of 9/11... other than I find myself fascinated once again with the images that are being replayed the last few days on MSNBC and CNN. It's almost like in the absence of those images and of the reminders you become numb to it. I watched a special on the survivors of the Twin Towers on the Discovery channel last weekend, and that feeling of disbelief is still there. Man. Even more strange to me is that in a few months I will be standing at that site to pay my respects and that in itself boggles my mind. It's just so sad.

Ok, in other news... I am happy today despite the solemn tones. I am happy because it is fall, and since every other journalist out there seems to be contemplating the 'quiet calm of fall' or whatever the hell they are calling it, I thought I would as well. I am wearing my favorite grey sweatshirt and appreciating the crisp air. All I can think of is the leaves that will soon be covering the ground, how I'll need to turn my a/c over to the heat position soon, and am anticipating carving pumpkins, and more than that decorating for Christmas! Oh, I so cannot wait.

I had the most stressful dream; but I'll keep it short, because I know how boring it is to read about other people's dreams... but Aaron and I were getting married and I had two hours till the ceremony and my dress wasn't finished getting altered, I had no veil, no flowers, and 13 bridesmaids without dresses as well as no flower girl and no ring bearer. The pisser of all of this? I had 250 bucks to spend to cover all of that, AND every time I got up to pee (3x for those of you playing the home game) the dream would continue. I was so stressed in the dream I woke up not feeling rested at all. Arg. oh well, I can't call it a bad dream, because I WAS a bride in it afterall. :-)

Have you heard those radio spots for Albertson's featuring Patricia Heaton? They bug the shit out of me. "Hi there Ms. Heaton, what are you doing?" says the voice over (or something like that) then she responds with "hi there, just doing a little shopping. Actors have to eat too, you know." STUPID. DUMB. CONVERSATION.! I can't even tell you how much they irritate me or exactly why they just do; I hate hate hate those commercials.

Found out some good nose (note heavy sarcasm), a warehouse about oh... 6 blocks or so from my work has been chosen to be a halfway house for level 3 violent sex offenders. YAY! I should note that the article states that they will be monitored and all that shizzle, but you know what? Not good enough. Level 3 means violent, and highly likely to reoffend. Those fuckers can be monitored night and day; and incidentally there will ONLY be a staff person to each resident during the day. At night there will be less staff on hand, which you know just oozes fucking confidence. Joy. I am so buying mace.

You know why I hate people? I hate them because they are idiots. Of course, I am speaking of the assholes that call my office, typically Satchel's customers. Actually 75% of everyone who calls for Satchel is probably not even a client, rather they are members of his little Republican club... he heads up the district of Republicans where he lives, so all of his little followers call here constantly. Anyway, I digress. One dipshit calls this morning, and asks for him and I tell the fucker that Satchel has stepped out which is actually code for "he's in the bathroom spraying the walls with shit... or well, that's what it sounds like from out here." Anyway, the dipshit says "he stepped out?" Like I'm speaking a foreign fucking language. I say "mmm hmm" and he goes "you allow that?" and starts laughing like a big fat dickhead. Why do people say such stupid asinine shit like that and then laugh about it? I have absolutely zero tolerance for 'office niceties'. The stupid inane comments office co-habitators seem to make incessantly. Just shut the fuck up and let me do my fucking job. Don't ask how I am or tell me to 'cheer up buttercup, It's THURSDAY!" ARG.

I got into it with Satchel yesterday (big surprise, I know) because he wanted me to call up our office supply company and see if they'd match a price he found at a competitor for copy paper. First of all, it is my job to worry about office supplies, not his. Second of all, our supplier doesn't have a 'beat all competitor's prices' policy. Third of all, um fuck off and worry about yourself. I wouldn't even know what to say, and you know what? If it's that big a deal, do it yourfuckingself. I told him that I didn't have time to call them up and dicker around about price of paper and that I really didn't think anyone would give that big a shit about it if we ended up saving 5 bucks on copy paper. Not only that, but I would feel uncomfortable begging for a discount. He said "well, I would imagine your job would be to find the best possible prices and I wish you would care about it." I said "even if I did, it's the last possible thing on my priority list right now, and I don't have time to call around beg for discounts." He looks at me and says "yes you do, just go ahead and do it." I crumpled up the note he wrote me about it, and threw it in the trash can. I am not his lackey, and I am not his personal assistant. I hate that fucker so much sometimes I actually can't think straight. He has to make everything his business and he's always right. Just ask him.

That's enough ranting for today...

My cousin Dawn and her youngest, Camryn. (we were at their cabin for the family reunion last weekend.)

Big smiles!

How big is Evan? This big!


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