Hi Ho, Hi Ho, It's Off the Deep End I Go

Sorry kids, I didn't realize editing a post would make people think there was a new one. I had previously listed all the guys I've kissed, but I had yet to add Mr. V-Day, or Fanny Pack Man, as Juan likes to call him. This is the kind of minutia that runs through your mind at 3am when you are trying your best to stay awake on the hour drive from Austin at your second job. But now that folks are peeking in and there's nothing to see, I'm feeling kind of bad about that. My blog (I just lost so much inner-cred for having written that statement) has just gotten its 1,000th look-see, and being a blog-tease is a pretty sorry way to treat folks. The fact that I have nothing particular to write about is now your problem. :-)

I can admit that at this very moment I am missing my Algebra class (old habits die hard!), which is going to be a review for the test we have Wednesday. Yes, I have once again mucked up my chance at getting a decent grade in a math class. I'd like to point out that I didn't have adequate funding to purchase my graphic calculator until the day before the first exam (I TRIED to borrow one; those that didn't pawn them right after they needed them are using them RIGHT NOW!), and that I couldn't afford the $60+ computer program until two weeks before the first exam, leaving me insufficient time to do my homework, but those kinds of excuses are pretty lame. True, but lame. Would I approve an appeal based on the info provided above? Survey SAYS! "Hell No!" The good news is that I understood all the concepts laid out in class, I am not a math dullard, just woefully pressed for time and trying to figure out what means most right now.

Whatever am I talking about? Lemme tellya! If I work over 8 hrs on Saturday or Sunday, I make $16.79 per hour opening and bundling mail for the IRS. If I go to work for the feds after work on the weekdays for 4 hours per day, I could potentially double my monthly salary. Hmmm….this algebra class, or getting myself closer to being debt-free….? Ordinarily I would actually pick education, because I'm not so short-sighted as to think fast money is more important than knowledge, but the opportunity to take algebra will be around, while my tour of duty w/the feds ends on April 25th, and not a day longer. I have to take this opportunity so that I can really get down to the business of going to school. There's just one thing though: Please, PLEASE don't tell my Mom or Dad! I KNOW, it feels unhealthy to me too, but I really don't want to disappoint them anymore than a single woman w/no prospects who allowed herself to fall in love w/a low class loser, and proceeded to lull herself into penury, despite everyone's good advice. I'm thinking I've put them through enough for now. I'm saving up my credibility for the big stuff! Y'know, when I come home pregnant w/a married man's child…something like that. (And if you don't think that's one of the most absurd thing I've ever written, please click out now; you don't know me, and I don't want to ever read from you again!) Humph!

The second part to this is that the job I had lined up for the rest of the year (before I realized I had the chance to make a bunch of dough w/the feds) fell through b/c the people who are in charge of hiring and training at the San Marcos Treatment Center have been working w/the mentally unstable children for far too long, and have now rendered themselves almost completely senseless. You see, no one bothered to tell me that I have to work a minimum of three 8-hour shifts per week as soon as the weeklong orientation ends. Yes, the 40-hour orientation which they've had to reschedule for me twice, though not gracious enough to call me beforehand to tell me the orientation was called off, [and as an aside, asking to change your vacation request two times in an office of 40 people, mostly catty women, whose policy is to request vacation for the months of January through AUGUST right when everyone comes back from Christmas break, (who the hell knows what'll be going on SEVEN months from now?!) is not a comfortable mission.] is something I had to accomodate my schedule for, however when the tables were turned, their accomodation skills were sorely lacking.

So they rescheduled me twice, then on the first day I was told I had to start Saturday and I had to work a minimum of 24 hours per week. We all know that math is not my forte, but 40 hrs per week at my "real" job + a minimum of 16 hrs per week at the temp. job + another 24 hours at a third job, AND the commuting time…would really…not be good. But I was actually willing! Yes! I am one of those rare employees who cares when I sign a document, or say I'll do something. If they hadn't screwed around so much getting me "oriented", I would have said no to the IRS job. Stupidly so (I only recently realized how much the Sunday night differential OT pays), but hey, the Feds ponied up first and I meant to keep that commitment. So during one of the breaks I expressed my concern to the woman doing most of the orientation at Crazy Camp, and also told her that I didn't think I would be much use to anyone if I tried to do all three, but as soon as my job w/the feds ended, I was all hers. She flatly told me that either I could work my three shifts starting that Saturday, or I could do orientation during some other week. Yeah…reschedule a week of vacation a THIRD time…thanks lady, you're aces! But hey, I had asked for the time off, and that orientation is paid so I figured worst case scenario, I'd get a small paycheck for being on "vacation". Plus, it was just so unreasonable that a part of me really didn't believe that was the final word. That I wouldn't HAVE to start working right away. I mean, they'd have a trained, willing, potential employee, right? Who could say no to this face?

Tuesday I was talking to one of my peers in class, and she told me of her spring break plans to go on a cruise beginning Thursday.
"Thursday?!" I asked. "But that means you can't finish orientation."
She replied, "I know, she (Crazy Camp Nazi) said I could just do the last two days in three weeks when the next orientation happens, and then I'll start working."
Bu…wha…sha…???

So I go to CCN and relay what I'd just heard, and though it would still mean one week of no sleep, it would allow me to finish the bulk of my training now, and only ask for a long weekend in 3 weeks, and everyone's happy! Weellll, not everyone. She said that the other woman had worked that out with her beforehand, and that she had given me my options yesterday: I could work 3 shifts next week beginning that Saturday, or I could sign up for the weeklong orientation at another time.

Suddenly I realized something….earlier that day she had been teaching us that these teenage patients will often engage us in power struggles. You know, the old "Please sweep your floor now." "No, make me.", and the only way to deal with those situations is to give them two choices. "You can either sweep the floor now and we can go on with our day, or you can choose not to sweep the floor and you don't get time in the rec. yard." This lady was treating me like a patient in a power struggle! Well, I can tell you one thing, I'm not freakin' sweeping your stupid floor!!! So I walked out. I went to the HR department and was told that Crazy Camp Nazi had the final word, and her boss was not available for consultation, but I could make an appointment at a later time. Ffffft!! (That was the sound I heard in my mind, which is the verbalization I have typically made when shooting the bird.)

I should've known. This was something that I had learned the first time around when I worked there (which is also written in this here blog, if one would care to backtrack): These places have such a hard time finding dependable people who come in to work day after day, week after week, year after year, that those basically have run of the place. Five years ago, the guy who kept leaving me alone w/the mental patients had worked there for about 3 years. Who were they going to invest in? A 5 month employee who statistically wouldn't last there a year, or someone who has proven that they have the mettle to get kicked, spit on, and in some cases, poop thrown from teenagers who will probably never know another day of being in "the free" and not somehow institutionalized. So really, I guess both parties have made decisions that would best benefit them.

One last thing before I go: two weeks ago as I was sitting in the orientation mentioned above after working from 6pm to 6am w/ the feds, then going straight to training, and trying my level best not to go to sleep during the "If you don't know how long you should wash your hands, sing Happy Birthday" speech, when I realized that some things just had to change. So I got rid of my cable and my land line. There's just no reason to put myself through all these paces and pay for services that I'm either never home to enjoy (the cable) or that place more obligations in my lap (listening to my machine/answering the phone). I've since realized that my DVD collection is for sucks, but I'm determined not to spend any money on obtaining anything that's not essential, which means no renting or purchasing DVDs. As a result I have been watching an inordinate amount of Lord of the Rings lately. Well! I love documentaries, more than movies it seems, so the appendices on the three movies have been all I've watched lately. This explains why I dreamed of Frodo last night, and when I'm starting to think things like "Anon…you have left your corset on the floor." H E L P M E!

The Kids Are All Right

I feel like I need to restore my honor…we really did have a great time on Northgate! Sure I drank a lot, but that was throughout the entire day, AND I had lunch and dinner. I'm not a sappy drunk, but I was talking about the fact that one fear I have is that I've waited too long to get serious about finding a partner, and really, there's no going back once you've made that decision, y'know? And I've made no bones about the fact that recently this has been weighing on my mind, as I'm realizing that the "spring" in this chicken will one day reach its twilight. But that's a cogent thought, a real fear, and when speaking frankly w/people that I trust, some of the "id" leaked out. I'm OK w/that. One cursory wipe of my eyes, a short apology, and back into a night of revelry! Actually, I believe it was back onto the dance floor ("Where is Jana's ass? Must smack the hiney…") HA HA!

And the dance floor thing really did work! Since most students were still out of town, there was enough room, and we incited about 5 women to shake their money-makers w/us. That was cool! No, no, no mental thoughts of a sweaty Aimee, barely able to hold her own head up, loping around and unable to make her hands meet to clap. Guuuurrrl, I was SHAKIN' IT! That's how I broke my shoe strap! Which was also the only reason we left the bar; I had my "B-team" shoes in the car. I never fell down, I never threw up. I don't want to jinx myself and say that I'm too old for that, but truly….I'm too old for that shite!

Now, the "incident" w/the family jewels is something I'm not especially proud of, but ONLY because I had only recently met these friends of friends, and his wife was really cool about being our designated driver. Now, keep in mind that our partying was over, we were settling into a nice dinner at Denny's, and as I was ordering my food I was suddenly attacked by forces from the North. Thankfully I was able to protect my eyeball (my blink reaction is truly awe-inspiring, I must confess…) and as I looked astounded and waited for the apology, I was met w/a wicked grin. !! So of course, I started talking trash (as is my way) and it was DISCOUNTED! (I'm pretty sure I heard Jana gulp at this point). My parting word was that I would avenge my eyeball, and its tender juices. (well, I didn't say it like that; we were just about to eat dinner, remember?)

So anyway, dinner was all good, we all got up to leave and I used the same element of surprise to fulfill my promise of revenge. But the girly, stifled fists into this man's side were not as fulfilling as I had expected, plus I hit him twice on each side, you'd think he would've protected his manhood w/in the first millisecond of the attack (that's what my brother used to do….) but he didn't, so when my knee connected w/his "boys" he was startled, then pissed. Y'know that point where it was supposed to be a lighthearted juke, but somehow it goes funky? That was it! I honestly did not mean to hurt him; I'm not that type of person. I was only play punching him, and I really expected him to block me- I simply lifted my knee (there was no force behind it), but unfortunately it was serendipitously timed just so for maximum testicle crunchage. It has never been my intent to alter the virlity of any of my friends, and that is actually the only other person I have ever done that too, except my friend Damon when we were in middle school. He then explained to me that even grazing in that area is not cool. Umm...well, I guess I forgot...

I acted prostrate in the car, but Jana played me out when I winked & smiled at her, then it was the quiet, uncomfortable car ride home. Well…..HE STARTED IT!!!! Sighh….but they really are a very nice couple. I plan on sending a thank you card for the ride home, and possibly a small gift. Jana has suggested a bag of nuts. (This is part of the reason why we are good friends.)

See, it's all good! I'm still a responsible adult! I show up to work showered, nicely dressed, and not smelling of rubbing alcohol. Rootie is fed daily, her hair is washed and brushed on a regular basis, her little teeth are white & clean, and I've never left her in the car while "mama" goes in for a toot. No need for an intervention! Now when I start to get so much plastic surgery that I begin to resemble Joan Rivers, THEN, you guys need to come to my aid. Until then, it's all good in the 'hood, my nizzles! :-) (And thanks for caring)

Boobage, Bullying, and All-around Blarney!

St. Patty's day was a riot! Which is exactly what my friend Jana and I caused as we first walked inside Dudley's on Northgate this past Saturday. We were regaled w/clapping, hoots of glee, and even hugs! After about 5 minutes at our table we were then each given a shot of Apple Pucker, b/c we're just that freakin' COOL! (Or the Aggie b-ball team just won the game…whatever…we're still awesome).

Though I have been a bit too keen on lists lately, I must describe to you the amount of spirits that were ingested by yours truly this past St. Patrick's Day, 2007:

Black & Tan (Guinness & Bass)
Snakebite (Guiness & Ace Pear Cider)
Black&Blue (Guinness & Blue Moon)
Darme un beso
Flaming Dr. Pepper (w/beer)
Tiny sip of a Spic-mick
½ pitcher of Shiner
Shot of Apple Pucker
2 bottles of Guinness
1 Irish Car bomb (w/ANOTHER Guinness)
Pitcher of Blue Moon
2 tall (20 oz) glasses of Blue Moon
1 shot of indeterminate origin (Latin Manhattan, perhaps?)
Tuaca & Lemon something…(Lemondrop?)

This may better explain some of my actions which included starting a dance floor in a shot bar, ashing in my own beer (thanks to Jeri for the head's up), smacking Jana's ass more times than should be legal, sending risqué pics to various friends, breaking my shoe, getting wet-eyed at the sudden realization that YOU are the "too old to be here" lush hanging out w/ married folks who are only in the bars to visit (this isn't their top mode of merry-making, as is in the desperate case of yourself), and kneeing the groin of our very gracious and patient DD's husband as payback for the unfortunate timing of one errant straw cover. (Though he may soon not forget that when I get ruffled, mocking is the WORST way to handle me).

GOOD TIMES!!! College Station is not at all how I left it, but once inside places like "Dudley's Draw" and "The Chicken", I was able to settle into the time warp I had been seeking. There was one very adorable moment in The Chicken w/a young Ag w/white walls, glasses, and brown overalls, who when asked, absolutely assured us that he was old army 'round those parts. Uh…class of '03. Ouch. The other raw spot was our lame attempt at bench-fucking during spring break, though that did give me one last opportunity to pee on Moore Hall. Heh heh heh…. And my apologies to the poor fish who were hiding in their rooms when two rather loud, militant old Ags began banging "Hullabaloo" on their windows. May you never be faced w/the same apathy when nostalgia calls and you try to relive but a moment of some of the best years in your life. (But seriously, we were scary-drunk, and ya'll had every good reason to hide from us)

And on the non-drunken part of the weekend (though admittedly there were not many of those moments), much thanks to Molly & Joel for dinner, Jana & Nick for hosting me (though I suspect Nick put up w/his Beer Bunnies in order to get in good w/the Breakfast Bunnies), and Jeri & Jared for putting up w/me in general. Next time let's play in my backyard!

V-Day '07 and Other Egocentric Delights

All in all I'd say it was pretty good. The date had a shaky start, but it went OK. Yes, I got a "first kiss" on V-day (it was our third date, not counting the night that we met, so we were due). No, I didn't have butterflies or a tight chest or any of the other things that I've read/heard of/seen in movies. Just like every other kiss I've ever had, it was all smacking sounds and the smell of spit. (Apologies to _______ and _______, and _______, but I am a truthful gal.) I talked to some women I work with and I've ascertained the following:

1. It's not just a Hollywood notion; a "real" kiss truly does feel wonderful
2. I have felt the whole nervousness & longing thing, but I've always been too chicken-shit to go after it, so while my anatomy & physiology is all good, the psychology could use some work.

Y'know, sometimes I wonder where I would be if my Dad hadn't cheated on my mom, and been so selfish, while I was growing up and forming my opinions of the opposite sex. Would I have carelessly thrown my heart to some ne're-do-well and have kids by now, or would I have been able to trust some great guy and not run away? It doesn't matter now, but I sometimes wish I could get "Scrooged" and see how things would have been if I didn't have such hang-ups with trusting men. Well, maybe I'm being too hard on my Dad b/c it's not like my view would have changed the world I live in because I ALSO learned last night that meskins just don't have it in them to appreciate it when women cook, serve, and feed them. I mean, he liked it in a "since you were at the store already, thanks for picking up a loaf of bread for me.", but not the "WOW! You just spent 2 hours, after working all day, to make me a homemade dinner, complete w/lemon meringue pie from scratch. YOU ARE THE BOMB!" And that's where many of you would say that if someone doesn't appreciate it, you shouldn't do it. But I LIKE to do things for other people! I just want to be worshipped for it, is that too much to ask? J

I will admit that I was a little bummed out b/c I didn't get any V-day cards. I didn't know this but my mom has been sick since Sunday with a stomach virus, so besides some e-wishes (and thank you kindly for those!), I came up short. Not a biggie; I put out so much positive V-day karma this year that I will be shocked if someday my marriage proposal doesn't come via Megatron at the Superbowl. HA HA! (That was like wrapping 4 outlandish fantasies into one fell swoop! Mad skillz, ya'll!) Then I look at the world where children are starving, moms and wives are struggling to keep it together while their sons/husbands are sitting ducks in a hostile foreign country, and drug addicts are getting cornholed for a 20 minute high and I think "Your biggest worry is a two-dollar card? Damn…you are such a weenie!" (And a lucky/loved weenie at that.)

This weekend I'll be watching Pan's Labyrinth w/my cousin (and perhaps the date-man mentioned above), and studying the hell out of algebra since my first exam is on the 21st. Perhps my "kavorka" is wearing off (no prescriptions necessary), but the past two weeks have been quite a trip. Thanks to everyone for their support! E-beer is on me!

What I Can't Do...

...when I have to wake up at 4:30am to catch a plane leaving at 7:00AM:

1. Putting on my underwear right-side-in [hour 1]
2. Deducing that if crap coffee from a gas station, and crap cappuccino from a gas station are both $.79 cents per cup, you'd get more caffeine in your system by picking the dessert-like cappuccino. (Apparently I can't drink more than two sips of really shitty coffee before throwing it away.) [Hour 2]
3. Successfully get a tube of make-up past the "Liquid Police" at the airport, as they found my "mascara bomb" yet again on my carry-on luggage, and (yet again) held me up to search through every facet of my belongings. (Thankfully I had a zip lock bag handy, which somehow satisfactorily acts as Kevlar.) [Hour3]
4. Notice that the motion sensors controlling the water in the Houston Hobby ladies' room cannot tell the difference b/w a human hand and the all leather Coach backpack I recently (and quite triumphantly) purchased on Ebay, and nonchalantly placed in the sink. I did quickly recognize that human hands are MUCH easier to dry. [Hour 7]
5. Realizing that "Roly Poly" is no longer selling wraps, though I've spent nearly 15 minutes in their parking lot situating my belongings in my car while looking for the book I had intended to read during the lunch I was surreptitiously taking once I finally arrived in San Marcos. [Hour 10]
6. Finding a suitable substitute for lunch once you've prepared yourself for a nice, hot wrap from "Roly Poly". [Hour 10]
7. Actually attaching the documents you're supposed to e-mail to folks, and heeding such minor details as "Reply All". [Hour 12]
8. Recognize the number of a student who keeps calling you (thereby avoiding said student), in order to set up a appointment to have you "model" for her Mary Kay project, i.e., come to her home so that she can try to make you buy a bunch of make-up you don't need. [Hour 13]
9. Not cry when Bonnie Rait's "I Can't Make You Love Me" comes on the radio on your drive home from work [hour 14]
10. Refrain from driving 70 mph in a small town like Seguin when the city speed limit is 45. (But my house was SOOO close; it was a subconscious thing!) [Hour15]
11. Abstain from checking myspace [Hour 17]

And yet there is not enough sleep haze in the world to have me thinking that 5 hours in a rental car is worse than the crap I had to go through today in order to begin traveling at 5am and arrive at my destination SEVEN HOURS LATER! A trip from the valley to San Marcos should not be (and in my experience has not been) such a pain in the ass.

G'night all! Tales of my fantastically frantic month to follow. (Maybe)