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15 posts from June 2007

29 June 2007

What's that Word?

You know. The one that describes the seemingly insurmountable amount of shit that you have to pack in four days during which you have to also work and sleep whilst trying to reduce your life for the last five years in a three bedroom house to one that will be sustainable in a two bedroom apartment in time for your brother, who is doing you a favor by driving nearly eight hours from another state to help you move by loading the moving truck while you're away finding an apartment in Texas and then when you return will help you drive the ten hours back and then unload said belongings from said truck?

What's that word? Mmmmm. It's on the tip of my tongue.

Oh yeah.

AAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

28 June 2007

Heart Disease: the silent, deadly killer. And her loud, ungraceful, CRAZY cousin: Panic Attacks

For the last week or so, I've been having these dreadful symptoms that are driving me a bit wonky. I've been paranoid and worried that I'm having heart attacks and not paying attention to any of them. Images of me driving to Texas when the "Big One" hits, a sudden slumping over the wheel, and then Em, the animals, and I plunge over a bridge into a watery grave.

Yeah, not  pleasant at all.

I know I'm having stupid panic attacks. Why do I know this instead of carrying my fat ass to the ER with the possibility of cardiac arrest? Because I don't think one of the symptoms for heart disease among women is the constant twitching of your left eye. Seriously, I've been twitching. I am officially crazy. Whereas, I was on the cusp of acceptably nutty with a hint of emotional instability; I am now "family history of fucking crazy" for those medical questionnaires of my future generations.Movingboxeskitchen

Sigh.

I'm stressing out a bit about this move. Folks, do you realize that I'm leaving in little over a week?! I'm fucked! I'm getting those chills that occur from anxiety as I speak. Rationally, I'm sitting here typing away but I'm quaking at the same time. FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!

I have declined assistance from my mother for the last few days but now, I (fuck! What's that word that describes what General Lee did at the Appomattox Court House to end the Civil War?! Shit, I can't think of the fucking word....doesn't it start with an A? AH FUCK! Now, I'll have to use another word but it won't be the same because I have a craving to use that particular word. You know the word. The one that describes when you hold up a white handkerchief and wave it. What Napoleon did?! Please, for fuck sake...someone tell me the fucking word!.....I had to look it up and evidently SURRENDER starts with A in my tired mind. sigh) surrender. She can help.

I had intended to have garage sales over the next couple of days but I need the time to pack. It was a lofty goal but I was going to try. Now? Now that I'm physically rebelling against sanity in the form of facial tics, jaw pain, arm and leg cramps, irritable bowel syndrome, shaking and every other crazy person symptom; the garage sale will not be. I'm donating to the balikbayan boxes my mom will be sending to the Islands, the local charities' thrift stores, and friends that happen upon me in the next few days.

I'm stressing....just a wee bit.

"Wee bit," she said in that leprechaun voice and with her forefinger and thumb in wee bit position including the hunching of the shoulders.

I fly out for a home finding trip on Tuesday night. I will be back on Friday morning just to turn around and drive back to Texas on Saturday. I'm thanking The God for my brother who will be making the drive with me. As much as I thank The God for the help, I want to hit everyone involved thus far for this lovely, wee bit of stress I'm going through right now.

No, really. I'm excited about the job....Can't you tell?

Ok. I've fucked around enough for the time being. Back to the trenches for packing.

Oh, by the way. I've been watching Dead Like Me and I'm already pissed that I know the show's been canceled. Why the hell are we canceling shows with a higher caliber of writing? And why the hell do people enjoy shit like the Age of Love? I'm tired of REALITY TV (except Last Comic Standing because me loves the funnies.). And my god, this guy is ugly anyways! Please. For fuck's sake, television and screen writers, do something of artistic value instead of monetary. You canceled a cable show! How fucking hard is it to keep a show on cable?! Seriously! I love this show and am sad that I will have only two seasons to watch for eternity. And trying to adapt for the screen. PLEASE DON'T!

But, I digress.

25 June 2007

Because I Look Good in Red

CorollaNew car. A 2007 Impulse Red Toyota Corolla CE. And when I say new, I mean new. Only 48 miles on it before I came home with it. It's not all stacked with a million options but it's still pretty and the gas mileage is very good. 32 city/41 hwy. Yay!

22 June 2007

Only a Couple of Weeks

I'm starting to get panicky. Do you realize that it really isn't that too far away before I leave Pcola?! I have entirely too much to do before I head to Texas and not enough time to do it.

I'm packing now and feel I'm a lilliputian in a herculean world. There seems to be no progress and I'm not feeling good about this....all....breathy....heart palpitations.....shaking hands....good god! I feel overwhelmed. I tried to ease my irrational fears today (as I tried yesterday) and it helps for a good, solid ten minutes. I've started in the den and I think that's where my problem may lie. We spend most of our time in the front rooms of the house, namely the den so the majority of our crap is here. I'm thinking that after work today I start in the back rooms like the bedrooms.

Will be having a garage sale next weekend if you're interested. I have no idea how that will go but it's a monumental task that HAS TO HAPPEN. I can't carry all this shit to Texas with me and I want to get something for the stuff I'm giving away. If you're in Pensacola, I'll have dishes, pots/pans, furniture, bed linens, books, and all the spices of every day living. What doesn't get sold in three days, goes to people and charity....reminder to self: ad in paper.

If you're not doing anything and want to help me move, I will welcome the help. I may have to make a path to the door first.

God, I wish I was Samantha Stephens.

Blabberized

I found a new toy that I must share. Have fun!

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18 June 2007

I've heard everything is bigger in Texas.

I will be moving to Texas within a month for a promotion in the company.

This is a big step for me. I'm afraid of success. Most of the time, I don't feel I deserve it; but I've been working for this and the steps following it for some time now.

I've battled myself and my natural tendency to just moan about things. I've almost strangled that little bitch that resides in me that tells me that I'm worthless. She still clings to certain lobes of my brain like a cancer that has wrapped itself around the foundation of what I am. But by god, she's not going to win.

The move is hopefully going to go smoothly. I worry about finding an apartment. Again, the credit thing but I will make this work.

I'll keep you updated as the clock clicks down. As of now, my first day in my the building will be July 13th.

Immature Behavior, on my part.

I truly believe that what you put out into the cosmos comes back to you, multiplied. I take this belief to an extreme. If you think it, it can come back to you in a physical manifestation of itself.

As I get older, I realize what a bitch I can be. I don't think the core of me is bad bitchy meaning that I don't go out of my way to wish harm upon a person; but I will speak my mine. I will be outspoken. AND I will give you the shit you give me back. I will, again admit that I can be bitchy.

There are things I am angry about that occurred in my life. There are people I am still angry at; however, I am never past the point of ever writing anyone off. If you really know me, you'll understand this about me. Read enough of this journal and you'll see the woes I've been through with my mother yet I will never remove my mother from my life. My friend Beth can vouch for this fact. We were not friends for several years because of my anger towards a situation and my way of going about expressing it.

I guess this is leading up to something.

My dad's family.

I miss them. I am angry at many things concerning them. I was very vocal about my relationships with members of them. But none of that means that I don't want to be part of my family. Hell, I've seen and heard crap from all of them; and I have no doubt they've experienced the same from me. I just don't know how things can be mended now.

When my father died last year, it was one of the worst times of my life. Things were hostile with the family on the day of the funeral. Some apologies were made for which I'm grateful, but things are still fucking weird. I don't feel like a part of my dad's family. I feel uninvited and unwanted and I mostly stay away. Phone calls to those that I still talk to seem tense and obligatory; and I hate those.

I miss talking to my grandfather, probably one of my favoritest people in the world, in that way it was before I got pregnant with Emma. He used to call me his Southern Belle, making fun of the accent I had (not that he didn't have a thick Wisconsin one himself). Now? I think he's ashamed of me.

I miss my grandmother sending me a children's card for every holiday with a dollar stuffed into it. Now? She's polite to me.

I called my grandpa for father's day yesterday and felt like a stranger; and you know me, I withdraw even more when I feel like I'm intruding. I really hate this.

I found my aunt's blog today. Remember, I talked about this aunt. I was unkind in referencing her before. She's much nicer in her writing than me. I look like acerbic, sardonic, crazy bitch in comparison. There is a lot of dirty laundry between us. Tense feelings. So much so that we avoided looking at each other at my pop's funeral. And I hate this too.

It's a regret to have such a miserable relationship with my father's family. I don't know how to fix it. I don't think I'm completely wrong for how I've felt in the past or feel know. I know there was some immaturity on my part on how things were expressed. I can't take any of that back now, but I sure as hell would like to be able to see members of my family without feeling like criminal.

Eh.

I think I'm going to write my grandfather a letter now.

13 June 2007

In Support

This country singer has penned the best lyrics for why our troops should pull out....ahem, sort to speak.

11 June 2007

This is NOT the Paris Theater.

Those of you from Memphis will instantly get this reference. For those of you unfamiliar to this particular establishment, I will explain in a very brief sentence. It is a seedy (aren't they all?) adult theater located on Summer Ave.

Having said that....My dear CODS get a motel, why don't you?!

The Use of "I"

I am not the greatest grammarian. I make mistakes frequently. I also like to make-up words and use things as adjectives that really aren't adjectives. It's fun. Makes for good television when you read my stuff. I don't proofread my posts nor do I spell-check them, so you get my thoughts in all their grammar-mistakes (see, what I'm saying about the adjectives thing?) glory. HOWEVER, I am tired of seeing the incorrect use of I when identifying pictures.

When you are labeling your pictures on MySpace or Flickr or anyfreakingwhere, please make note of the following.

It is "my sister and me" or "my best friend and me" or "Jessica and me" or "Billy Bob and me, standing in front of the Vegas chapel" for fuck's sake!

This is the rule I used to help Emmaline use me and I correctly. When you are identifying yourself as the subject of a sentence, use I. For example, Billy Bob and I were standing in front of the Vegas Chapel before our ceremony. If you remove Billy Bob from the subject (change the verb, of course), it would still make sense. I was standing in front of the Vegas Chapel before our ceremony. Try it the other way and it's illiterate speak for "Me stupid!" Billy Bob and me were standing in front of the Vegas Chapel. Me was standing in front of the Vegas.....

Now, let's apply the same rule to identifying pictures.
Billy Bob and me, Vegas Chapel.....Me, Vegas Chapel. Works, right?
Billy Bob and I, Vegas Chapel......I, Vegas Chapel. Who fucking talks like that?

If you can't do it right, just label yourself with your name. Takes all the guess work out of it. Holy Hell!

This is I in front of school. Yes, me can do it. Me can read.

Waiting

I interviewed for the Texas job on Friday and now I wait for a response.

I am nervous about a number of things excluding the actual job. I know I can do the job. The job would be refining and putting to practice what I've been spending the last few months learning.

No, I'm nervous about money. I worry about my credit and being able to get an apartment. I worry about the costs to turn on lights, pay deposits and fees, settling in...you know, the important stuff. Also nervous about how this will affect Emma. Hoping we find a nice neighborhood with kids that are good for her. Other worries too.

All are keeping me up right now as constant thoughts u-turning in my brain. Incessant little buggers.

I spoke with my mother about the job. I was scared to ask her for financial help for the move. Honestly, I don't know how I would actually afford leaving this city. Surprisingly, the money wasn't the hard part of the conversation. She said she would help. I am relieved.

Sooooooo, I wait and worry. Hoping to hear back in the next couple of days. Looking forward to see the offer. Scared to negotiate if I don't like the offer. Does anyone else have a problem asking for more money especially if you deserve it. Professional athletes and actors are the smart ones with agents making and breaking their deals. My friends at work have been my little agents whispering in my ear. Same as Carrie. According to them, I'm an extremely hot commodity and should ask for no less than a billion dollars. I have a feeling the company would counter-offer that...hey, I know it would be a huge salary cut but I'll do the employer a solid and accept a million. We all have to make sacrifices for the team sometimes.

I'll post as soon as I hear something.

07 June 2007

My Least Favorite Chore aka Pbbbbttttt!

Does anyone want to update my resume for me? It's due on the prospective employer's desk by tomorrow.

How Python has crept into our lives.

I'm stealing from my friend, The Reverend again because this is the absolutely funniest thing.

The straight man delivery of every single line makes you shake your head and just pee with laughter.

Good God...I can watch this so many times.

My favorite lines have to do with cardboard and paper derivatives and cellotape.

04 June 2007

*clap clap* Deep in the Heart of Texas

There is a job posting in my company at a location in Texas. It's for the position that I would next hold. I want it but am seriously afraid of posting a reply. What if I suck, I ask myself? Well, I've been doing what the job entails without the pay or title for months now. I know the job. I am the job. So, why am I scared?

Financially, I am terrified of the move because I can't afford shit. The cost to connect any services and such would break me because my credit sucks and I KNOW I would have to pay a deposit. And speaking of Naomi-Credit Suckola-McCrap-Crap....how the hell am I going to be able to get an apartment with the financial tar bog known as my credit?! Fuck! I'll be working for more money but living out of a shoebox.

I just don't know. There are things about moving forward that are scary as hell. BUT none of them compares to the financial woe that it all involves. I do NOT want to rely on Mrs. Devine for help because she already thinks I'm a freeloading mess. She doesn't say it aloud but there are times that her message is loud and clear...like now.

I actually told my mother that I'm looking at moving up with the company. This was months and months ago. We had a discussion about the house that I live in.

Let's backtrack this story a bit. My mother owns this house. When it was purchased, we looked at putting it in my name; but because I am that money pit called Naomi, it couldn't be done. I have very little money living paycheck to paycheck so I haven't paid my mother regular rent since living in the house. Taxes come and I give her a lump sum that satisfies her momentarily.

Now, my mother has done a fairly good job of not pointing out the lack of rent. It only comes up when (1) she's angry at me which I avoid by avoiding her most of the time or (2) when our Filipino relatives call her for money which is generally once a month (even then I do the method as described in point one: avoidance). And, not having to pay rent has kept me from being desperately poor.

Back to the original thought.....when I first discussed the prospect of moving, my mother said she was going to sell the house. As an offer of generosity, she would give me an amount of the sale to help me live at my next location. In succeeding conversations, the same point was made. It would be more cost effective for her to sell the house since she's having to deal with the upkeep of the house whilst her daughter (me) wasn't. Selling the house would pay any mortgage off and make a little profit.

However, the most recent conversation went like this:

Mrs. D: I'll keep the house and rent it out because you'll be back. You always come back and you're NOT living with me.

Me: *silence*

Me: *more silence*

Me: *silence mixed with choked back tears* Ok, Mom. I've got to go.

Mrs. D: *with laughter* Nae.

Me: I'll talk to you later. *hangs up and cries like a little baby*

There is much more in the conversation than the above. I had told my mother the conversation made me feel inadequate and very much like a loser. I apologized for being crappy as a person and daughter. blah blah blah before I said goodbye and CRIED LIKE A BABY! My mother did call back and apologize.

I know my mother is disappointed in having me as a daughter. I see it more in her face than hear it as actual words; but it's there, that disappointment. I don't blame her. It's what's really keeping me from applying for the position. I work very hard to not screw up but I make the worst decisions, it seems. AND I can't come back to my mother again. It's humiliating and defeating and I can't do it again.

I know parents get disappointed with their children. I have been disappointed with mine at times. But I can't stand being the chronic disappointment to everyone.

What to do? What to do?

01 June 2007

Hristos

ευτυχή γενέθλια, Hristos. I hope your day was wonderful. Though our friendship has changed over the years, I wish you nothing but the best. Happy Birthday, my twin.