Thursday, September 29, 2005

going home

. . . finally. Tomorrow. Today is the exam and the big meeting with the CEO and the division president. I should probably dress up, but it's raining. I don't feel very inclined.

Sunday, September 25, 2005

stranded

No car, no church. Stupid co-worker with the car keys. But I've had a very peaceful day, mostly featuring lots of sleep and some serious entertainment reading.

I am happy to tell everyone that there is progress taking place on Chapter Fifteen, for the first real accomplishment since early July. I had a productive Saturday.

Saturday, September 24, 2005

six months

Probably worth noting that yesterday was the six-month anniversary of the blog experience. I've posted 143 times since I began, averaging three days of four. And I still have nothing much to say!

More drunkeness and general chaos this evening, I gather. Cards and beer down the hall. This must be what normal college is like. Amazing. Meanwhile, I'm in my room, listening to banjo music, wishing I had my banjo here. I think this puts me in the running for "dorkiest person in Pennsylvania under thirty." Too bad. I've also spent a nice quiet morning polishing parts of the book. Everything is moving forward three years. (I know I'm the only person in the world with any clue when this book takes place. But I care, okay? That's my own special OCD brand of authorship.)

On a slightly related topic: Listening to Emmy Lou Harris, I notice that she can no more pronounce French than I can sing a high C.

Friday, September 23, 2005

smashed

My fellow-students went to the bar this evening and they are all somewhere between "intoxicated" and "unconscious." I went for dinner, watched the chaos for a while, and have returned to get ready for bed. They'll all roar back at two when the bar closes. I think someone has vodka and beer in his room, so this hall will sound like a moving frat party for an hour or two. Just as well I don't wake to noise.

I wish I'd spent the evening playing penny cards with 'Stacia, though. Drunk people are like their sober selves, minus a quarter of the wit and two-thirds of the good sense. Besides, my shirt smells like cigarette smoke.

wishing i were back in jiu-jitsu

I am engaged in a power struggle with a woman over a car. It's an idiotic thing. I wish I could just slap her upside the head and be done with it. But no, here in the adult world we're supposed to use tact, and strategy, and stern letters and stuff.

I would therefore really appreciate it if everyone would spend a minute this weekend and post their favorite ever literary defeat of an enemy. Moriarty-off-the-falls style. I need a nice dose of poetic justice to accept that I'll have to settle for a more pragmatic success.

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

nothing much

I feel terrible. Grrr. I wanted to go hide in the bathroom all afternoon, just so I wouldn't have to sit in class. Not that the bathroom is very charming. What I actually wanted was to take my book and lie on the grass outside the building and read it. Failing that, though, I wanted to act up. Throw spitballs or something. I begin to understand all those ADHD seven-year-old boys. Poor little tykes.

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

week two, day two

I'm not counting down the days on this training or anything. Not at all.

Is it embarrassingly enthusiastic to say I'd kind of like to go out and do the work I'm hired to do, instead of sitting in training classes all day? Part of it is that I'll have much more freedom. I won't have to get up early (except as mandated by the family, but that's a different matter.) I'll have more privacy as well as more autonomy. I'll be able to order that new Sebring. And then we can stop with this hammering of basic computer skills. We aren't even permitted access to e-mail accounts here until late in the third week.

Totally unrelated: Sharon got a new car in a gorgeous shade of blue. I can't wait to see it, which means she is obligated to go on a road trip as soon as she takes delivery.

Also: BleedFreed shoes work, but they make me feel like a marshwiggle.

Also: I'm getting really tired of cold cuts and Cheerios.

Also: I have clocked a full eighty hours since the beginning of last week, and that's not even counting today's time.

Also: There was a guy at church whose hair looked like he had been caught in a downpour. It was thin and fairly long, an indeterminate blond. and it all descended straight from the crown of his head to wherever it ended up. It was a bit on the ragged side, it had aspects of the mullet, and it was accompanied by a caterpillar mustache.

Also: I believe it's the full moon today. Does anyone know if it's also the equinox, or if it falls on the 21st this year?

Sunday, September 18, 2005

diet coke breakthrough

I have discovered (everyone, hold your breath) that Diet Coke in a bottle tastes acceptably like fountain Diet Coke if left overnight at room temperature and served over ice! Don't let's see any eye-rolling here, folks. This will improve my quality of life enormously. No more getting dressed in the morning for my daily fix. Instead, I can sit around with a bunch of novels, unwashed and still in my pajamas, eating Cheerios from the box, until noon!

Hmm. Put that way, it may not be the magnificent idea it seemed like. Full disclosure: I am sitting here with my aged Diet Coke, eating Cheerios from the box, but I am fully dressed for church--eyeliner, even--and the Cheerios-from-the-box thing is only because I'm in a hotel room.

On other, non-addiction-related topics, my future sister-in-law has sent around info for bridesmaids dresses. And lo, they are pretty. I am excited. I also went shopping yesterday, picking up some patented BleedFreed work shoes with sensible heels. I hated to hand over money for them. To make myself feel better, I bought a $20 watch from the Fossil store. It has a red dial, which is of course irresistable. I am also harboring a secret, but the less said about it, the better. I can keep a secret for up to 48 hours, if I try really hard. I'm going to attempt to do better this time. Christmas is a long time away.

That was a hint. But only a very little one.

Saturday, September 17, 2005

happy birthday, dad!

Whoops. I fell asleep Thursday night at around seven, and didn't wake up until five on Friday morning. Clearly I've been shorting myself in the sleep department. The entire class here went out drinking last night. I went to bed. They did, too, around 3 a.m.--I know, because I heard them outside in the hall. Strange thing about drunk people. They all remind me of eight-grade earth science class. The same things are funny, and I feel just as much like an outsider. The big difference is that I get to feel healthy and superior when I wake up the next morning and go on a walk, instead of groaning in bed for hours.

Anyway, back to Dad's birthday: Happy Birthday! I love you! Your present will be in the mail as soon as I find a post office that's open before or after my workday.

There was a presenter in class yesterday with a thick western Pennsylvania accent. I had to get up and go to the bathroom to laugh after twenty minutes of it. All her l's turned into w's. While I can handle "Awright," I could not keep a straight face as we discussed "weaving our wog-on screen unattended." It was too reminiscent of Princess Bride.

We were instructed not to take more than eight hours on our homework this weekend. You may imagine my delight.

Thursday, September 15, 2005

this is only a test

There will be an exam tomorrow in class. Those who know me will understand that when I say I'm pretty laid back about it, I'm telling the truth. No sarcasm for me. And after fifty hours of study in the last four days, why stress? If I don't know it now, I never will.

So I'm off to the hot tub. Happy Thursday, everyone.

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

shoes

I wore my spiffy new shoes to work today. They're attractive heels that look exactly like Anastacia's favorite pair of heels, but are a size-and-a-half larger. She swears that they are the most comfortable shoes she owns. I beg to differ. There are big ugly protoblisters on my poor left foot. Soooo not cool. I'm going to have to go back to the boots ('Stacia knows what we call those boots) and just deal with the 4.25 inch heel.

You might say the problem would be solved with normal shoes. I might agree. But there will be no solving of problems until I've addressed chapters 5, 6 and 7 in the manual and written up the associated worksheets. And then there's the spurious Schmidt case to document, and the expense report to correct, and the #)$%(@# second hard drive to deal with. When all that is finished, then will I buy new shoes that do not make my feet bleed whenever I look at them.

I will also read one of the three cheap books I bought at the Borders Outlet store around here. Didn't know they had Borders Outlet stores? Neither did I. Am I lucky, or what?

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

welcome to government work

Despite the private and for-profit nature of my new company, all the rules are set by the human resources arm of the federal government. OPM has a lot of rules and a less-than-gripping prose style. I spent all yesterday evening going through stacks of requirements. I took a relaxing bath and read the OPM manual. I noted with some annoyance that I cannot actually type anything whatsoever about my cases unless I type into the OPM reports computer. I.e., there will be lots of handwritten notes in my future. For someone who types over 80 wpm when on a roll, this is a pain in the metacarpals. It will also cost me a fortune in white shirts--I can't operate a simple pen without serious blottage.

So that's work. Pennsylvania is beautiful, although the foliage has yet to change. The weather is gorgeous. The humidity is pleasant, not overbearing. The food, however, could use some work. Yesterday, I went to a Chinese restaurant for lunch. I ordered curry beef (described as a dish featuring beef, vegetables, and potatoes.) I was presented with a plate covered with gluey sauce. There were chunks of gray meat floating in it, along with slices of onion, and a number of curried French fries. Someone in the kitchen must have looked at a bag of frozen fries, thought, "Hey, sliced potatoes is sliced potatoes!" and emptied it into the pan. It was vile. The belly laughter was worth the seven bucks I paid.

Sunday, September 11, 2005

more and more and more employment

So here I am, your cheerful corrispondent from Pennsylvania. There's a lot to be said for being paid $20 an hour to read and drink Diet Coke, even if it's done in a cramped plane. Tomorrow is real work. The first week at New Job was educational. Primarily, I was struck by the real entertainment value of being able to plan your own schedule, meet people face-to-face, and (best of all) drive around.

Anyway. It's time for bed. I was up at 4:30 to catch my plane.

Sunday, September 04, 2005

mostly little news

Chief Justice William Rehnquist died yesterday. I am totally unqualified to comment about it. So I'll stick to my own little news.


To wit:

Mom canned sixty pounds of green chile this week. I did all the prep work. Skinning and seeding hot chile leaves the hands almost bleached white, and they will tingle for the rest of the day. Proper professional chile-cleaning wear includes rubber gloves and respiratory protection. I had neither, so I made do with lots of cold carbonated drinks and cheese sticks (calms down the throat when you've breathed too much capsaican.)

We also canned pears. I did lots of peeling and slicing and cleaning. By the second or third canning day, I was deputized to do the actual canning. It seemed to work. We'll see in the winter. We marked the jars I did so we know who to blame if someone gets botullism.

Anastacia and I went shopping AGAIN yesterday. Her good shopping karma continued to benefit me.

Gwyn and I made a fresh peach pie from scratch this afternoon. Even the peaches were homegrown, if not by us. It was enormous, and it turned out beautifully. This evening we will make a plum tart. Still no idea what we're going to do with the other million or so pears we have ripening on the back porch. Pear tarte tatin?

I start New Job on Tuesday, early. Please wish me luck.

Gas prices are outrageous, so Little Bear is consuming more soybean oil than usual. The petroleum stuff is just too expensive.

I had to teach Sunday School today. It did not totally stink, which was as high as I was aiming.

Recommended book of the week is Hot Water by P. G. Wodehouse. No Jeeves, no Wooster, no kidding. Anyone disinclined to read may watch recommended movie of the week, Finding Neverland. Yes, I actually watched a movie this week. And yes, I know you've all already seen it. And told me I'd like it. And are rolling your eyes because I never pay attention to you. Sorry.

I get to start jiu-jitsu again in October, when New Job's New Medical Coverage kicks in. COBRA's too expensive to mess with.