Tuesday.

It’s Tuesday, and boy am I tired. I’m working (yes, it looks like I’m working hard too, doesn’t it?), and blogging, and wishing for nine o’clock.

Tracey flew in yesterday afternoon, and it was great to see her. I went out to her house for supper with her and Brent, then we went to her friends’ Lynn and Todd’s house for some beverages and to chill for a bit. Bill came out to the house to meet up with us and see Tracey.

On my way out to Tracey’s house, I got lost. I’m usually VERY good at getting someplace again, so long as I’ve been there once before. But this time? Not so much. To be fair, the last time I was there (only once) I didn’t drive, and we went out long after dark.

So I was driving around the subdivision, an hour late, and very, very frustrated. I didn’t want to call her cell # as it would be long distance, so I called the number for her house. It rang and rang and rang. I figured she was screening calls, as it was a secret that she was in town, and didn’t recognize my cell number right off the bat.

Finally, it stopped ringing: “Heh-Looow—“

“Jesus-Christ, where the fuck is your house? I’ve been driving all over your goddamned subdivision for EVER—I don’t even think I’m on the right Jesus STREET!”

“What street are you on?”

“Blah-blah Street!”

“Okay, turn left onto Yadda-Yadda street—we’re at the end.”

“Okay…um…This isn't Trace--is it?”

“No dear, this is her mother.”

“Oh. Mrs. W….I’m soooo sorry. Oh my. Um..”

“Oh dear, that’s fine. You’re frustrated! It’s understandable…do you see me? I’ll wait here at the end of the driveway for you…we’re number 34!”

“Oh my. Yes, thank you. You don’t have to do that. Oh dear. I’m so sorry…I didn’t mean to curse at you. Oh dear.”

She met me at the driveway laughing. Tracey swears more than I do, and says ‘fuck’ in front of her own mother with great regularity…but I was always brought up not to curse (or even say ‘pissed off’—which is a curse at my house) in front of anyone, especially adults and parents. Mortified, that was me. I continued to apologize profusely…all through dinner. Which was held for almost an HOUR for me to show up. Which wasn’t such a big deal when it was just Tracey and her fiancé and I, but Oh man, did I ever feel bad.

Anyway, dinner was great. Drinks were good. Meeting new people was lovely. But boy was I tired. I bailed at nearly 2 am, and was labelled a quitter for my troubles. *laugh* I think I can live with that.

In other news, I finally got off my arse and called my landlord about my leaky fridge. I called his work and left a message on Sunday afternoon. Yesterday he called me back and said ‘I’ll go get you one tomorrow, can you measure the hole to make sure it fits?’ Today he called me from Sears to say ‘I’ve just bought you a fridge, is it okay if I give them your phone number so you can arrange delivery?’ Speedy Gonzales, he is. I should have done something about it sooner. I just dread having to call and complain about things…I absolutely dread doing it. I also dread the thought of random people trooping in and out of my apartment. Especially if I know they’ll be judging how I keep it. I know that visitors don’t do that, but if you OWNED it, you’d be examining things for wear, and to be sure the carpets were being maintained and such. So I don’t like to call about things. I make do until I can’t make do any longer. Bleh. I suck at basic maintenance things.

I got an oil change today, and had the fluids checked. They didn’t check the brake fluid though, and I think I’m down a bit. I am getting a slight grinding noise, and I know the pads and shoes are good, as we just replaced them in December and June. I figure I’m down on fluids and that’s not lubricating things properly. I’ll check that tomorrow before I take the car in for its annual safety inspection. It only expired at the end of May, so I think it’s time.

Okay....time to work! Must dash! More later--happy Tuesday, Poppets!

Thirstday, August 16th.

So there’s been a lot of drama at work in the last two weeks.  I’ve been rather disillusioned with my job, in ways that I have not ever been before.

 

There’s been an ‘opportunity’ being thrown around for the last little while, and there’s been wild speculation as to what will happen in terms of this ‘opportunity’.  (I.e. New job in this area—promotion-type job.  And who’s going to fill that position.)  I’ve been knowing that I am qualified for THAT position, but working hard at not getting too excited about it, as the one thing I’ve learned about my company is to have no expectations and you’re never disappointed.  (Okay, that’s a lie, I’m still disappointed quite often.)

 

I decided a couple of weeks ago to bide my time quietly, but to start a serious job search in the meanwhile.

 

Then, last Friday when I was on a day off (much-needed and well-earned), chaos happened; the kind of chaos someone who wants a promotion actually looks forward to.  A manager in one of our Metro locations was dismissed for cause.  It was sudden, and it was a surprise to most everyone.  Our District Manager is filling in the position in the interim.

 

The rumours immediately began to fly.  Many people came to me and asked me if I was taking the position.  Unfortunately, none of these people were anyone who was in a role enabling them to GIVE me the position.  I explained that unless they knew something that I didn’t, no, it wasn’t likely…but that if it were offered, I would be more than happy to consider it.  (Diplomatic, but a politically correct ‘hells yeah, I want it!’)

 

Well…nobody has known anything since.  I determined Tuesday that if nobody important had mentioned anything to me yet, it wasn’t going to be me.  I made my peace with that.

 

Nobody knew anything since.  Until NOW, that is.  And the person that’s getting the job?  The ONE person I would prefer did not.  The ONE person who could possibly add insult to injury.

 

Luke’s going to be the new manager in our Darkness location.

 

Talk about a kick in the head with a frozen boot.  Oh well.  At least it’s Thirstday.

 

Scott at least had the decency to try and tell me privately—he just barely got the words out before the other assistant barged into the office (closed door—does this mean NOTHING?!) with a flippant ‘Oh…did you want that closed?’  She obviously just was being nosy, so I changed the subject, and moved on.

 

We then had a department head meeting, which was mercifully short.  Lisa kept trying to ask me what I thought about the appointment.  I told her I hoped he’d do a fine job.  After that, I took an extra-long lunch and went to the gym.  I needed some Me Time.  I needed the opportunity to be alone with my thoughts.  My thoughts that went something along the lines of:

 

“Fucking snot-nosed little cocksucker.  Oh well.  He’s worked hard.  But the little fucker took my job.  Twice.  But he probably deserves it.  More than some of the others, I suppose.  But what a little fucker he is.  And there’s no goddamned way I’m fucking staying to ‘be patient’ now.  Little cocksucker.” 

 

You see how I’m conflicted?  The inner turmoil?  I’m pissed off.  I’m frustrated.  I’m even angry.  But I at least am able to see that he HAS worked hard.  Granted, the little bastard hasn’t had the decency to call me in two years, but whatever.

 

I couldn’t get over the amount of sheer joy I took in uttering the word ‘cocksucker’ over and over again.  That is actually what caught me off-guard more than anything.  It’s not a word that I ever use…but it sprang to mind so quickly when I thought of the little weasel.  Generally when someone uses that word as an epithet, I reply with “You say that like it’s a BAD thing!”  Because really?  How many men do you know that actually think that’s a BAD thing?  None.  My point exactly.  But say the word out loud.  Say it with feeling.  It feels GOOD.

 

Anyway…sorry I’ve been such a slacker about posting.  I’m not sure why, even…except that I’ve got over 200 of you on my Bloglines, and I can’t keep up.  I’ve developed a better system lately—that involves pretty much ignoring most of you.  That seems to be working alright lately…but yesterday was a day off, and I spent ALL of it catching up on 5 or 6 days of blog reading.  It was deadly.

 

In other news—more pleasant and not-necessarily work related—I have a new roomie.  He’s in, and he’s okay so far.  It’s early days, but I find him to be more pleasant than the last one, although quite odorific.  He’s a bit of a cologne-a-holic.  He’s even got Old Spice scented body-wash.  And cologne.  And shaving cream.  And deodorant.  And body spray.  Yes.  Like that.  Old Spice, even.  Good times.

 

But even considering that; I like him, he’s pleasant, his girlfriend is a sweetie, and they mostly stay in his room—but with the door OPEN—so they’re unobtrusive, yet available for me to holler at.  “Hey, want some watermelon?  What time do you work tomorrow?  Are you guys going to the Busker Festival at all?”  It’s been okay so far.  I just have to work on finding my bedroom floor again.  When Joe moved in, I had to move all the stuff from the spare room into my room.  And it’s still there.  I keep climbing over it, stubbing my toes on it, and pushing it off the bed, only to lift it back onto the bed in the morning.  And I need to deal with that some time soon.

 

Also—I’m going on vacation!!!  I’m so excited.  I was booked off for the last week in August—leading up into Labour Day weekend.  I had no real plans, but I wanted to DO something.  Since my job has left me feeling rather cranky and unfulfilled lately, (on top of the personal drama of a month or so ago—it’s been a long, hard summer) I have recently developed a strong urge to go Home.  I wanted to go see my mom, and my sister, and my dad.  I wanted to go eat a peach fresh from a local tree.  I wanted to go see Niagara Falls in the summer time.  I wanted to be some place where it was sunny, and HOT, and all around beautiful.  I wanted to go HOME.

 

Flying was prohibitive due to the short amount of notice, and my short amounts of expendable cash.  I decided I could drive, if I could find company.  I started asking around.  Nobody could get any time off.  I mentioned it to Bill when he was talking one day about needing to do something different.  And that he had vacation burning a hole in his pocket.  “You should come to Ontario with me for a roadtrip!  Then I could go home!  And it would be different!  It would be an adventure!”

 

He thought about it for a few days, and I tried to not get too excited about going home…but I DID play with the budget over and over again in hopes that I could squeeze a plane ticket out of my meagre savings.  Bill came through in ways my bank account couldn’t.  He’s coming with!  I get to go HOOOOOOOME.  I’m so excited.

 

I haven’t told my mom that I’m coming home…or my sister.  I want it to be a complete surprise.  I’ve already checked to make sure that they’re going to be around.  Mum is for certain, and she said that Amy was going to the cottage for the long weekend.  That was going to be great, because I was going to go to the cottage with them once she found out I was in town.  But in talking to my sister, I found that she was only telling mum that as a trick.  Amy was planning a surprise trip home with Jer for the long weekend.  So it’ll be a double-whammy.  Surprise visits from both of us, and a surprise for Amy and Jer as well!  So exciting!

 

We’re driving to Ontario through Maine, because that way we can stop and see Bill’s sister, and visit the new baby.  It’s very exciting—because that’s an adventure for me.  I’ve never driven through the States to go home, only ever through Canada.  And we’ll be coming BACK through Canada.  But it’ll be a fun trip, I’m sure.

 

That’s pretty much the ‘short version’ of what’s going on with me, longwinded though it was.  I’m frustrated and disappointed with my work, I’m content with the new roomie, and especially with his timely payment of rent, and I’m more excited than I have been in 15 years about going home.  There’s not the slightest bit of dread or anxiety—just overwhelming happiness.  

 

What’s new with you?

 

BTW:  Thanks to L-Girl for the nomination as a Rockin’ Girl Blogger.  It’s kinda nice to be mentioned, and it goes without saying that I feel the same way about her—but I’ll say it anyway.  L-Girl?  You ROCK!

 

 

What a weekend.

Today was Monday, and it wasn't half bad...especially considering the lack of sleep I had last night/this weekend. I'm still up now, at 1:43am, and I really--REALLY--should be asleep.

First thing's first...Billy's sister had a baby, and she's BEAUTIFUL. Her name is Muirean. (meerrrran) Yep, Gaelic. I expect she'll be called Maureen more often than not. Poor kid. Oh well, she's adorable. (Mmmm....tasty, delicious babies!)

Well...I don't know where to begin, and I'm not sure how to start...and considering the drama that happened the last time I drank with the boys and considered the possibility of being naked, I'm not sure exactly how much I want to share here anyway.

I have a stupid meeting tomorrow morning in Dartmouth at 8 am. My shift doesn't start until 10. However, my entire morning is supposed to be taken up with this stupid meeting. Which will be a waste of time, as we will get together, discuss nothing, and come up with a list of things to tell our DM which we will phrase in the manner he wants to hear them. Why? Because he doesn't want us to come up with our own answers to his questions, he wants us to come up with HIS answers.

I don't care how long the meeting goes--I'm going to the gym on my way to work. I have to close again tomorrow, and I'll be damned if I'm going another whole week with no workout just because work sucks.

I am currently making baked beans. They are my first attempt at home-made beans, and they are in the oven. They've been there for about 3 hours now. Another 4 hours and they'll be ready to come out. I really hope they taste okay. I never liked them when I was a kid, but I've been wanting to make them for almost a year now...so I did. Cross your fingers!

Friday I was off all day, and it was great. I tanned briefly (not that you can tell), managed to not swim, moved furniture, purged crap, dropped stuff off at the Salvation Army box, and did a whole lot of nothing. I stayed up far too late reading blogs, and didn't get a whole lot of sleep. I wasn't doing anything in particular, except not going to sleep.

Saturday, however, I did a LOT of stuff.

I worked from 6:30 to 4. Looooooong day. (not busy though, as you see I posted from work!) After 4, I went with Lynn to pick out paint colours at Benjamin Moore. Then I made her come with me to buy bras. They were on special at Zellers, and I was desperate for some new ones. I still am, as they had not a hell of a lot to choose from in my rather sizey-size. I am not a terribly large person, but proportionately speaking, I'm a wee bit busty. This is a challenge when it comes to fitting into clothes, and to buying underwear.

Everyone always says 'oh, I have a shirt that will fit you!' and scoffs when I say that 'no, no you don't. I'm pretty sure your shirt won't fit me.' They scoff, that is, until they force me to try it on, and I either bust out a seam (literally) or hand it back all stretched out and shapeless. Needless to say, I very seldom borrow shirts from friends.

I bought 2 bras that were identical to one another--both black. I wanted a white one and a beige one, but they only had black in my size. So now I have 4 black bras that fit, and 2 stretched out white bras that sort of fit, and a beige stretched out bra that only manages to fit where it touches. An embarrassment of riches, almost.

I then drove some shed parts out to a customer's home in Tantallon. She had a lovely home, in a spectacular neighbourhood. And she was nice too...which makes me not hate having to do a good deed for her.

On my way out there, Ange called to see what the plan was for Saturday night. (we were heading to Chris' to drink, then downtown) I said she should make arrangements with Chris, and I'd call her back when I got home.

No sooner had I walked in the door and put down my stuff (7:20?) than my phone rang--it was Ange. She wanted to know if I needed any 'refreshments' from the liquor store. I did not. I asked what time we were heading over, and she said 'i'm on my way to your place now...aren't you ready yet?' The scramble was on.

I was dressed and ready and out the door by 10 past 8. That includes emptying a cupboard in the kitchen to make room for Joe's food-stuffs.

We went to pick up a couple of girls Ange had invited along, and then sat in their parking lot for 20 minutes while we waited for them to be ready. They kinda sucked. Oh well.

We were at Chris' by 8:40. There we commenced chatting about stuff, discussing things, and drinking copious amounts of liquor. Angela had challenged Chris to a duel. Chris is my age, and a smart man...he knew it would get messy. She's 25 and tiny. He's 6'4" and not so tiny. His liver has an extra 11 years of conditioning. Chris was a good man, and conceded from the beginning. Not to say none of us got sloppy anyway, but...it was less sloppy.

The girls (J&J2) walked back to their apartment (2 blocks away) to get their dog that they were dog-sitting. I don't understand this, but they did. They brought the dog to Chris' house. It was at this point that I realized Chris' kids were home. I played superhero action figures with them for a little while. The boy head-butted me by accident. (I head-butted him by accident too. I'm thinking it was a mutual accident. No-fault insurance came into play.)

The dog stayed at the house with the kids while we all went to Cheers. We danced and danced. I talked to boys. The girls had all bailed long before to go to the Alehouse. Chris and I had been dancing like fiends on the dancefloor, and didn't want to leave. I didn't want to pay a second cover, and I didn't really want to go to another bar. I was happy, and drinking, and dancing, and that was good enough for me. I think I even told Chris, "You guys can all go if you want. I'll just stay here until it's time to go home" Chris stayed with me, Morgan went with the girls. Morgan came back...and that's when I managed to lose the boys. I went to the bathroom, and when I came back--'POOF! they was gone! After wandering the room a couple of times to no avail, I sat at the bar for a few minutes and watched golf--and then, thinking I was truly abandoned, I went and stood next to a guy I recognized from Plenty of Fish and made conversation until the boys (Chris & Morgan) came back to find me.

After a while, we decided it was time to go. We went outside, and Chris & I wanted to eat. Morgan just wanted to go home. So he left. Chris and Steve (POF-guy) and I went to PizzaCorner for street meat. Hot dogs galore!

We then wandered up to the library to sit on the wall and wait for a cab. Steve came with us and we chatted and gabbed. Apparently I'm quite entertaining. My firm grasp of the obvious ensured that I would remark on an attractive black man's head. "That man has no hair." Steve dared me to go and touch his head. I scoffed in his general direction. It was a stupid dare.

I immediately walked over to the man who was laying down on the wall. "Excuse me sir. May I touch your head?" He agreed, and I did. It felt good. He said that, actually. "That feels Great!" I said "Thank you sir! Have a good evening!"

I walked back to where Chris was laughing his butt off, and Steve was looking surprised. Chris knows me well enough to not dare me to do stupid things. Steve apparently thought this was bold. He needs to stick around, or get out more, or something. Bold, my ass!

We were about to exchange phone numbers when the cab pulled up. I was very excited about the cab, and so jumped up quickly and ran to it! I climbed in, pulling Chris in behind me, shouted 'Thanks a lot! See you later! Nice to meet you! Good bye!' over my shoulder, and off we went home.

'Cept it wasn't my home, obviously. My keys, booze, and Angela's car were all at Chris'. The plan was to crash there. I expected Angela to be there too, because Chris had given her and the girls his spare key...but they had left it at the apartment. So they just went to J&J2's house after they left the Alehouse. We got back to Chris' at about 5 am.

** that's it for the update tonight. It's 2:21 am here, and I have to be up for 6:30 for that stupid meeting. Suffice to say, I had a GREAT weekend--Lower deck sunday...boys...girls...animals...adventure...ice cream...it was a great weekend. I'll finish up tomorrow. I promise! **

Saturday morning, and here I am at work again. It seems like I’m always here on the weekends…which is partly why I’m becoming so disheartened with my work, I think.

Lately I’ve really been jonesing for a Monday to Friday gig. I’m tired of working nights when everybody else is able to go out and have a life. I’m tired of working weekends when all my friends have them off.

I’m not really all that disheartened, it’s just that I’ve been working so MANY nights in a row lately that my frustration levels have been getting the better of me.

But the Monday to Friday thing has been coming for a while—bubbling just beneath the surface. All of my friends that I spend time with lately have weekends off on a consistent basis: Lynn, Angela, Bill, Chris--all Monday to Friday. I’m tired of not being able to play with everybody else and of not having people to play with when *I* have time off. Oh, I know…I don’t really let it stop me—but what suffers then is my sleep.

I’m excited about Gaelic starting again for the fall. I got my registration info on Friday, so I’ll be submitting that on Monday. Patrick suggested that we all sign up for Wednesdays at 6:00 pm. It’s okay, but I have a really hard time getting downtown for 6 when I work until 5. I’m going to suggest 6:30 or 7. Which puts us out of class at 10 pm, but so be it. I’m pretty sure I’ll be outvoted anyway.

I’m going to try to take a night-class at the university as well. I’m not sure exactly what. I was thinking about accounting, just for practice. I did really, REALLY well in it before, but I have no real use for it now, so it’d just be to kill time.

I should really take something interesting that has more practical applications in my life; mainly because I’m already taking Gaelic as my ‘interest’ course. It has no practical application in my life. In anybody’s really, because what’s the likelihood I’m going to run into a fluent old Gaelic speaker who doesn’t understand English any time soon? Slim to none, I’m thinking.

I had a fantastic day on Thirstday—and a pretty good one yesterday.

It’s funny how well Thirstday turned out, actually, as I started the morning by spilling a full cup of coffee all over my lap as I got out of my car. I looked down at my wet, wet lap and was disgusted, angry, and soggy simultaneously. I called my boss from the parking lot and said ‘I just poured an entire cup of coffee in my lap. I’m going home to change my pants.’

I went home and changed. I then futzed around, put on some makeup, ate cereal, and meandered back to the store an hour late. It was great.

My day was rather uneventful at the store—which is a really good thing. I had agreed to stay late for one of the other managers, as he had a doctor’s appointment late in the afternoon, so I took an extra long lunch. I used this time to run a couple of errands, and go to the gym. It was GREAT to go to the gym on my lunch. I showered, and headed back to the store feeling really content and refreshed.

The meeting was cancelled in the afternoon, which made my day a bit longer, but it was quite pleasant overall. I got home around 7, had some fruit, read some blogs, folded a load of laundry, and moved some stuff out of the living room to make room for Joe.

Now, you may remember last week when I got a Happy Day present in the mail. Happy Day is a GREAT invention of my mom’s. Everyone should participate.

What does this have to do with Thirstday? Well…Julian was clearing out some toys from his house that his girls are too old for now, or just don’t play with anymore. One of the toys he brought in to the store to give away was Hungry, Hungry Hippo™. This is a fun game…but more importantly, about 2 weeks ago, Bill had mentioned this was his favourite game EVER as a kid. So when I found it in the box of toys, I very excited about the discovery. I immediately claimed it as my own. J I carried it around the office for a while, moving it with me whenever I switched work-spaces.

I tried to buy some extra marbles for it, as it was missing a fair number. The ones I found at work were slightly too big, or slightly too small. I’ll have to try and find some better ones at Zellers or something. Anyway, I wrapped the game up in snowman Christmas gift wrap and set it aside for Thirstday night.

Billy drove to beer, and I had asked him to help me move some stuff out of the apartment to the dumpster. So he came in, and we were taking the legs off my old table, and I gave him his Happy Day present. He was surprised enough to get a present, but when he unwrapped it? Joy abounded.

The grin on his face was like Christmas. He immediately took all the pieces out of the box and set it up on my living room floor to play it. He tested all the hippos, and we briefly faked a game. I left him to play with it while I dissembled the table. What a happy boy. It made me glad I’d come across it, let me tell you! There’s no feeling quite like giving somebody a gift that they really love. Happy Day. I’m telling you, it’s where it’s at!

(Aside: The funniest part was watching him unwrap the package. At first he was trying to untie the ribbon…which is impossible when I tie up a package. It’s knot central on my gifts. So then he took out his pocket knife…and he opens presents exactly like my father. I was both horrified and fascinated by this. He slit each piece of tape meticulously, on both ends and the bottom, then before opening the paper, he carefully folded up his knife and put it away in his pocket. THEN he opened up the paper, and the sun burst out on his face. It was ridiculously (almost eerily) similar to watching Dad open gifts. Spooky, really.)

I was up in the office this morning shortly after getting to work and doing my opening up stuff. My bag was sitting on one of the desks, and suddenly it started to ring. I had forgotten to turn off my cell-phone, but even so, it was VERY early for it to be ringing…6:50 am. I answered it…it was Tracey. Loaded, and calling me from Edmonton. She and Brent had been drinking all night, and decided that 4 a.m. was a good time to be calling people. She said ‘you sound amazingly chipper for 7 am! What’s up with that?!’ I said ‘I’m at work—have been since 6:30!’ So she called back on my work line, and we chatted it up for almost an hour.

They’re so funny; and such an adorable couple. And just so keenly Right together. Which is good, because Tracey would be one hell of a handful to date—let alone marry!

** Posting this on Sunday because of circumstances beyond my control. I'll update from the weekend later--after I'm finished having a weekend. Suffice to say, it's been a great one. **

You. Must. Read. This.

If you blog, you must read this. Particularly if you are a regular reader here. Because if you're a regular reader here, then you'll understand the concept of the 'personal blog' so much more than other people do.

There's something almost embarrassing when you meet up with a bunch of other bloggers--bloggers with purpose--and you have to confess: "Oh my blog? Well...it's really not about anything. It's just me." Because really? Who wants to read that?

But if that's the case, then why do we do it?

The $64K question, is it not?

The gauntlet--it has been thrown.

I love Halloween more than anything on earth. More than my birthday and Christmas all rolled up into one. I plan my costumes a year in advance. Last year's costume? I planned for a year and a half. This year? I began planning last September.

But this? (Blatantly stolen from FatMammyCat) This makes me look like an amateur. It makes me both sad that I suck, and it gives me pause...it is like a gauntlet, thrown before me. Oh yes...I WILL prevail in all that is costumey goodness.

In the meantime, enjoy this video--it's amazing.



p.s. if You'll be in the Greater Halifax area around October 31st, and would like to participate in a really great group costume, you should get in touch. There will most definitely be a party...because there NEEDS to be a party to show of a costume idea of such epic proportions as I've got planned. Stay tuned!

Today.

Today I felt more like myself than I have in weeks.

I was cheery, without having to fake it. I was pleasant, and meant it. (mostly) I laughed. It felt good.

I spent a lot of time thinking and sleeping the last couple of days, and I'm not sure which was more beneficial.

I came up with some plans for the next little while, and I feel really good about them. If I can make myself put them into motion then we'll be smoking right along.

I chatted with Bill a bit tonight about that, and about how he's in a funk himself. It's funny how our perceptions of ourselves are always so different from the ways that others perceive us. And that we are always so wrapped up in what we present to others that we sometimes don't even know what the 'real' us is. We are all so self-absorbed that while we're worried about how others are perceiving us, we don't even consider how hard things can be for other people in the same situation. Except that their issues are the complete opposite of yours; and you don't even know it.

He's the one person (other than all of you internets) that I have never been remotely concerned about impressing. I've never given a second thought to how he perceived me, or whether or not he would think I was 'acting' right. He does. All the time. And even with me. With ME...I was shocked to hear it. And saddened. Because heck...it's ME.

But that just made me realize how much of the previous statement is true. How we're all really just icebergs...10% visible, 90% happening under the surface. And how it's easier to believe the negative voices inside your head than it is to believe the few REAL voices telling you positive things. We all need to work hard at paying closer attention to the REAL voices. And if you don't hear them often enough? Make sure you're being a REAL voice for someone else...because odds are they're not hearing the positives often enough either.

Joe brought some stuff by the apartment tonight...I hadn't finished clearing out his room yet. And now all the excess furniture is in the living room. I'd been purging a lot lately, but not enough! The house is so full of crap! I need to have a good 'toss it' day again...but no such luck until Friday. We'll see how it goes tomorrow.

I'm considering driving home on my vacation in August. I want somebody to go with me on the road trip, if I drive. I can't really afford the plane ticket, but if I had somebody splitting gas with me--I could swing the road trip. That, and it'd be a blast if I end up with the right person. Now it's just a matter of figuring out who.

In other news: I found Dan-O on Plenty of Fish tonight. And Chris L. found me and sent me an email. (yes, I've re-entered that world. It's part of my plan to actually get out there and meet new people. It's certainly not ideal, but it's better than my previous plan, which was to do nothing and pine over lost 'maybes'. So far I haven't even spoken to anybody. I got one email which I haven't answered yet. But I just put up a photo yesterday--that always gets a hella lot more attention. We'll see what happens. I may just chicken out and delete it again. Who knows?) I don't know if it's embarrassing to be found on there or not...I have to look at it in terms that they're there too. I also signed up over at Lavalife. I saw Billy updated his profile last weekend. It made me a little sad, but happy for him. He needs to move on just as much as I do.

K folks...gotta hit the hay. Have to get up early and finish clearing out the spare room, and taking the throw-out piles to the Sally-Ann drop box over at Sobey's.