The Face of Fashion...

is freakin scary! or maybe just the face of Versace. Even if it is cutting edge couture... would you trust that face? really?

Today is funny.

Off we go:

1. I am in flats (Pumas to be exact) because bond girl heels do not so much compliment this wicked shin splint I am having. and apparently I have lost a little bit of me (not really weight but mass?) and my pants are longer... and dragging on the floor.... and letting go of their hems. Very sexy. grrr....

2. The analyst who is my arch-nemesis i.e. the Wombat is fat. like crazy fat. like Guinness book of world's records fat. She has recently started to wear shirts that cover her massive bosom. With the roll out of a new process we have lots of higher up help in our building. She is getting many compliments on the new shirt. I sit here and laugh. No one likes the shirt.... they like not being able to see your boobage!

3. Her underling is super conservative little guy who is a couple of years older than me. He was over another department. He was super quiet. Now he sits by me and has developed a personality. Friday he shows up with a mohawk... and today there is a short sleeve button down to go with the mohawk. The Wombat blames me for this. I didn't do it but it is freakin funny.

ok and completely random... honestly I could not make this stuff up if I tried... I just got a phone call at work... this is how it went

guy: Hey, what's up

me: ummm, can i help you

guy: yeah, this g*** what's up

me: ummm, do I know you?

guy: yeah, this g***

me: I don't think I know you, I'm sorry, did you need something? can I help you?

guy: yeah, we met at the Shaw center... downtown, I was calling to talk to you.

me: I'm sorry I don't remember and I don't think I know you. But I'm a little busy right now, can I take your name and number and I will call you back?

guy: that's alright, I'll just talk to you later.

WEIRD.

Further weird because 1) how did he get my work number... plus all of the bureaucracy that protects me from having to speak to people... 2) who the f**k is he? 3) no offence, but his vernacular was not indicative of the sort of guy who would feel like they had 1/2 a shot in hell with me!

As I relay the call to my Cubby pals (to go with the new cubicles that replace psuedo offices)... Mohawk says: do you go to the Shaw Center?

To which I say "all the time! I've seen so much stuff there, there is the LSU gallery and Tsunami is there too. I've eaten there a bunch!"

Mohawk replies "apparently you've had a little bit to drink there also". Mohawk has jokes. I'm am loving the new personality that comes with too much gel.

Dk got knocked the f*ck out!

I am really not laughing at this. I'm really not. Promise.

But the situation is not really new, now is it?

For those of you who have known Dk for a sizable amount of time... we all remember those Saturday/ Friday morning conversations with the illustrious Dream killer of "What did you do last night?" with the standard response of "Went out in Tiger Land, got into a fight... I knocked him out..." blah blah blah.

Then that got moved up to the late Thursday / Friday night calls of "What are you doing? ummmm I was in a fight and I got hit and I think I'm going to die...." blah blah blah.

Best case scenario I would be able to tell you that he has matured over the years and no longer feels the need to exert his male dominance.... Which would be true except for the last time he got into a brawl with his BFF and got maced by a security guard. He calls me in the middle of the night and I let it go to voice mail. Harsh but he'll learn.

and for a long time he did...

Except for the Saturday morning call of .... "uhhhh, so me and Grant and 2 girls were going to have dinner at our program director's house when we got jumped by 10 guys! I had money and both of my cell phones in my jacket pocket... which they ripped off of me and took... and Grant and I were gonna try to take them but were were protecting the girls... and they scream 'F*ck Americans!' and hit me over the head with a pipe... and that is the last thing I remember...." He woke up with a busted lip and blood all over a really nice shirt, etc. etc.

and shockingly no one else got hurt. hmmmm. I'm not saying I don't believe him (ok, I don't believe him... but I did not SAY I didn't believe him), but it is a bit suspect. I did however make all of the requisite coo-ing noises.

However it happened, it does suck that it happened the last week before he comes home. He has finals on Wednesday and flies home on Sunday-ish. He is further telling me that someone in his class gave him a calling card so he will call me but a little less frequently... to which I ask "are you sure you don't want to call your umm parents or siblings instead?" I.e. anyone who still believes this sh*t but me?

To which he counters "You have to be nice to me, this is an INTERNATIONAL CALL (boy did that line get old!) and plus I am bleeding!"

Fine. Poor Baby.

Please refer to the pic... It's a Toadal Knockout... Sorry, I couldn't help myself.

In defence of Church.

You may have noticed my brand new toy. It is the Stimulated Boredom website and something I found while listening to live 365 at work. (because Internet radio is supposedly blocked :)

Let me preface this with while I do not agree with everything the illustrious Dana-jock says... I think he usually has an intelligent and well thought out position. and it makes my day a little less mind numbing to consider someone else's point of view... and counter it in my head.

It also spawned conversation with the Malty Milt Head who is, of his own admission, a dirty Catholic. It is odd that the evil capitalist is so superstitious and yet so Catholic. He goes to mass every Sunday and really lives the bit about giving and charity etc. etc. Not to say he gets it all right, but he tries and I contend that this is all any of us can do.

He has also said before that my faith (I am a Hindu) lends itself to a certain mysticism which is evident in my writing. (not like blogging but actual WRITING). The jury is out on this one.

But as I listen to an old set of debated... the existence of God parts I and II, I am intrigued, delighted and amused at the mere mortals self-importance of thinking their faith or lack there of affects anyone but themselves. and here we come to the meat of today's post...

I believe in God. I do. Being Hindu, while we have religious texts (I guess you can say they are akin to the Bible) there is the over-arching idea that they are the abstract ideas of God given as inspiration. The verbage, the actual writing is a human endeavor. God does not so much pick up his Mont Blanc and send memos to the masses.

So the debate on the existence of God is also that it is at odds with science. Does anyone remember the series of articles late last year by the Wall Street Journal on why more and more hard core scientists have come back to faith in God? It was quite good. But I digress.

The further challenge was Kirk Cameron (Mike Sever-Growing Pains) said he would prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that God existed with out using the Bible. Brave I would say. Want to know what the basis of his argument was? The 10 Commandments. Needless to say, he was quickly picked apart like string cheese.

So I sit and sift through trust agreements and I think about this. Friday morning I was too lazy to park 3 blocks away and take the trek to work. Nor did I have change for a meter or a $5 to park somewhere else. Because I know I will not get a ticket, and no one gets towed from Church, I pulled into the back parking lot of a beautiful cathedral. The people that work there are super cool. If they are having a function during the day- they put out a sign and we all respect it.

But that got me thinking about the things I have benefited from by means of Church in recent memory:

1. You can not get towed from Church
2. They provide food for homeless people. Especially downtown where there are lots of Churches, there is no reason that someone with no job is not getting fat off of 3 meals a day!
3. They provide classes and programs for all of the little kids around that area, who don't have much adult involvement.
4. When studying for something, the best place to go is Christ the King off of Campus. Even is no one is there, there is nun who opens the study rooms and brings you free coffee if you want it. It is air conditioned, heated, and most importantly QUIET
5. Then there is the whole community and fellowship aspect of it. Kudos to them.

That's what I got so far. I'm sure I will have more but this is what it is now. and looking at that, it occurs to me, whether or not you are Christian, whether or not you believe 110%, You have to acknowledge that we are better off as an aggregate whole to have this institution somewhere near us. Because it is so voluntary and requires nothing of you. You give out of respect, yes... even I ante up when Tourettes drags me to Church.

She whispers "it's my church, you don't have to do that" but my take is... it is the house of God. The God. and I would do it anywhere else I saw or felt God.

Maybe the amusement comes from seeing people look for a literal God. And I reflect on Gibran's conception of being able to give charity with open hands and closed eyes... not needing the self serving bit of knowing where it goes or who knows you gave it... and having that be a reflection not of your good deed, but truly giving with the eyes of God. and I think that looking for the "universe creation factories" requires a lot of energy that a lot of people will regret when they come to know the purpose of their lives.

I do however fervently agree with Dana assertion that really questioning your faith does either strengthen it to something worth having. or settle you in a different way.

Jumping off my soap box know, before I look overly zealous and no one talks to me anymore :)

also...later post. The dream killer got mugged and beaten up in London on Friday. that's not funny, don't laugh.

what's your story?

So I'm listening to NPR on the way in this morning (SHUT UP! It's science Friday.) and there is a recording of a woman's story about growing up with epilepsy and the way people reacted to her seizures during her childhood. It is part of an on-going community art project where people go into these special booths and record a story. They are housed at the library of congress and I imagine there is an archive on NPR's website.

As I listen, I wonder... what would our defining story be? What would you talk about in a booth that gives the impression of privacy and the vague promise of anonymity... and you have one shot to go as long as you want. What would it be?

I think maybe it would be like a verbal blog? like what I do here but talking about it. and you would want to pick something that you really want to express as it is not unlimited and you want someone to listen. I think. hmmm dunno.

Today promises to be a good one. Blanca comes out the shop next week. JB is making dinner for me tonight. and the new shoes and I ran on Wednesday to great results. It was yesterday that was physically not so good.

As you recall the goal for the end of this year is to get into vigorous training schedule for triathalon for next year. I'm not saying I will be able to do the damn thing... as mommiey points out "you have issues... real limiting issues. You can't train and stop, you have to be consistent as an athlete to do these things (mom used to be a runner) but you as a person have to stop when your body tells you to."

argh.

Wednesday was the 1st day back in the gym from last Wednesday. With therapy the workouts have been spotty. So 1st day back was a beast... Anti-gravity class (think the total gym machine) abs for 1/2 an hour, then 2 rounds of circuit and a mile on the track. and I was still able to walk after. not bad.

Today is circuit and 2 laps on track. Maybe we'll see how the 4.2 miles of the lakes do this weekend. plus I have new tape to wrap my knee under the brace :)

The only other thing I have is no more posting Bama. We're done there. No issues. I wasted too much thought on someone not worth it. my bad.

oh and I love A-rod. Since the Ken Griffy days with the Mariners... but maybe leaving the yankees? my favoritest team ever? really... and the cheating on his wife (insert horrified-shocked-saddened expression that was mixed with no surprise what so ever!). grrrr.

I do like the fans making fun of him with the masks though. C'mon that is freakin funny.

"Plays Well With Others"

That is me. Or at least it will be.

It is on a shirt and I guess I should buy the shirt.

Further, the Malty Milt Head is a fantastic asset for me to have. He happened to call on the day of interview with uber-awesome consulting firm in my city. He is beside himself that he called on THAT day. We schedule debriefing coffee for post-interview. Speaking of coffee... I have great coffee today. I bought it in a specialty shop in New Orleans.... for $10 for a tiny bag it had better be amazing! it is.

So yesterday I get the call to have 2nd interview with hiring manager. which the MMH is convinced it is due to the serendipitous event of HIM calling ME. Usually if we lose each other for months at a time, it is me that drops the call or text of "How are you, whatcha doing? Tell me you still exist and schedule some face time so I remember what you look like!"

Further, his stance of "let's work on you and figure out what was up with the 'no'" may have started to pay off. This is the guy who owned his own company and sold it, then moved to VP of a telecom company, then pharmaceuticals... rounded out with medical equipment. His parents both have PhDs and chastise his mere Masters. (I should be so lucky to have such a problem).

He has been staffer and head cheese in many many powerful situations, so his criticisms are useful. and as he knows Bond and the extent to which I need to be handled with kid gloves.

But in some ways I can see the progress. Even from the superstitious weirdo.

His further analysis of consulting firm is that the last interview is to make sure I play well with others. His great big sage advice "THINK BEFORE YOU OPEN YOUR MOUTH!!!!! PLEASE FILTER!!!! NO JUST WINGING IT!!!' and when (i say if) I get this job... he is paying for obnoxious dinner.

and how great would it be if we could schedule it between the 5 days that separate our birthdays. Did I tell you that Bunny's is 2 days after mine? We are trying to do Destin for that weekend.

I heart Bunny. She mailed me an encouragement card and I did a goofy dance at the mail box.

also, had quarterly review at work yesterday... apparently I ROCK on paper... so they would get the benefit of a 2 week notice. :)

oh and MMH sent me this as our horror-scope today.

The smiles that people will be giving you today will carry a slightly more risque message than 'Hi, how ya doing?' -- there is a lot of flirtatious energy around you today, and romance is most definitely favored. All this attention will leave you feeling good and ready to move a relationship to the next level. It's time to stop beating around the bush and tell that certain someone what you are feeling. They have been waiting for you to make the first move for a while. -


.......right.... today's theme DjMark - 111bpm - Maroon 5 - Makes me Wonder because I like this version.

Indecisive Squirrels Get No Sympathy.

Let me go ahead and explain that. Driving somewhere with someone a squirrel ran into the road and I hit the brakes. He stopped in the middle of the road, I stopped in the middle of the road. He faked left, I eased off the gas... he faked right, I hit the brakes. Whoever was next to me said "GO! What are you waiting for?" I say "I'm not going to hit him!"

He says... "ok, K... yes we love all of the bunnies and fluffy creatures of the world... BUT INDECISIVE SQUIRRELS GET NO SYMPATHY! If he doesn't have the good sense to get out of the road, hit him!"

I disagree. The Squirrel does not understand the concept of the road and cars. He should not be persecuted for our need to get somewhere 20 seconds sooner.


...more later.

... Here's more : Jessica Simpson should not speak.

this is a quote from an article where she is discussing her big rack and small bum. I will grant that things can get taken out of context... but really?

I dress for men," admits Jess, whose dad-manager-string puller Joe once famously observed of her double-Ds, "You can't cover those suckers up!" "I dress for men and myself. If I'm dressing for men, then I know it's good for myself!"

She can sing... but like much of the celebrity world... she just should not speak. I just don't have the patience to expound upon the 18 things wrong with that statement.

Pending: part II

Just because something smacks of "Daddy Issues"...

doesn't make it not true.

This is a good one.

Do you have issues with your parents/the way you were raised? I contend that most of us do in some form or fashion.

Has anyone sought to analyse you over what they think they know of your "situation"? I contend most of us have.

Does the opposite sex seek to explain your approach towards (non) relationship with them on the basis of those issues? Or bring it up in an argument? I further submit that this is something that is a textbook kidney punch... and illegal to boot.

Right, so my parents divorced when I was young. I don't remember any of it, I was young. But it was apparently messy and ugly and my dad was a bad bad man. He is now dead and I never knew him. He remarried and has a whole other family that I have never met and do not feel the need to. He did not want my sister or I, he never made an effort. Mom over compensated for lack of dad... my sister is the one with daddy issues.

I have heard several times over the years, in what purported to be adult romantic relationships that I have issues with it. I do not so much think so. I had surrogate relationship with mom's older brother. He was father-figure. My sister, Kris, had another uncle who happens to be the worst person ever. So she choose badly from jump.

It truly has never been an issue. Except Shy jabs that it is. He further says he is not pressing the issue and one day I will talk about it. Over the weekend I say "you're full of it, bring it!"

Shy: I say you have issues because you do not talk about him at all.
K: Because there is nothing to talk about

Shy: I think it is because it is painful
K: No, I'm pretty sure I would know if it was.

Shy: We don't have to talk about this now.
K: Let's. Let's talk about it, so we don't ever have to do this again.

Shy: Did you love him?
K: No. there was nothing to love. There was nothing in him specifically or specially for me.

OMG!

Why does that last line of conversation look familiar? Because it has been my reason for saying no in a couple of situations. Wow. spell it backwards... wow.

Flashback to JB who has known me too well for too long. Countered with Happy Drunk Ken Doll because they have conflicting ideas of my approach to relationships.

JB: 1. Says I have been a jerk to some really great guys (ok, so she is right) and that I sort of squash them with my expectation. and that I expect them to do back flips through rings of fire. (maybe when I was younger. I've grown up a lot!)

HDKD: calls me McMahon. I.e. Chris McMahon who falls in love every other day... and out of love the very next day. He says I get happy puppy to quickly and then countdown to when I cannot stand said person. But the minute the "relationship" is off the table, I think that might have been the greatest person ever.

So maybe he has a point also.

After all, your friends know you on what you do, what you say, and what they see.

So bringing it all together... I talked to the Dream Killer yesterday who is back in London from Amsterdam. and he says he is considering spending next spring studying abroad in London and next summer in Brazil. I say "rock on". He is under the impression this would be devastating to me (the reality of it was that I was watching TV and only 1/2 listening).

But he picks a fight because he was expecting me to say "no, don't go! stay here, You have a reason to stay here... ME!" ummmm nope. why? because there is nothing in there for me. He "wants" relationship but doesn't have it in him to humble himself ... nor will he ever be able to afford the ring it would take (not that to marry it would take a massive ring... but we have history and he's messed up too many times. It would take a sick nasty diamond FROM HIM).

Further he says that he calls so much because he thinks I have abondonment issues. That he is reassuring me that he is coming home. Really? I thought it was because you lost all emotion minus residual loyalty from me because you pitched for a relationship while trying to sleep with nasty trailer park "bohemian" trash, and you are trying to somehow make up for that.

ugh. I had a point. what happened to it?

here is the today's theme. Only because it is on repeat.

Sophie Ellis Bextor - Music Gets The Best Of Me

Beautiful Backhands.

So literally that is the back of some one's hand. With Henna on it. and you thought I was going to go for the uber-obvious tennis pic. Imagination, people.

Yesterday was weird.

I have new running shoes. I got them from an uber-specialty running shop that analyses the way you walk/ run and finds the perfect shoes for you. The ones I got are by Brooks. They were $120 w/tax and they are ugly. But they feel amazing. I have had the same shin splint that feels like a fracture for almost a month. It was time to change the shoes because I am still working out on it. I have never spent that much on athletic shoes. Mom chimes in w/ "really? because I've spent more than that on your sporting/leisure equipment!"

So we'll see if these things are worth it. As they are un-becoming I will certainly only wear them to work out it (shallow I know... and I tried so hard to pick cuter ones... but they didn't fit/feel the same). Below are my shoes.

Back-handedness... Out of the mouth of a woman I know superficially at my place of work "What are you still doing here? This job is beneath you, you are too talented, too experienced, too good for this ... blah blah"

She ambushed me at the water fountain. I said something like "I know, I'm looking. For a while this job allowed me to do all of the other things etc.." But the sad truth is that she is right. and my boss and I had a battle of wills this week. Which was stupid on her part. Why? because she got her bum handed to her when I was out for 9 weeks. Another peer is about to have some surgery and she will be out for 6-8 weeks.

My ideal situation would be to quit the day my peer leaves. and my new boss will be up a creek. and I will forget that she exists.

The battle came over my non-schedule. I come and go as I please. You get 8 hours plus out of me. I am the best at what I do and I help my other people. If you want to drop me into a structured 8-5... go ahead but you just shot yourself in the foot. How did she over look that she needs me? no matter, much like a guy who fails to behave himself, I will not tell you what you should know. you will know it when you don't have it. ugh.

Mr. Working on his Masters in Philosophy is going to have a child. With a girl he has dated for 2 months-ish. Weird. Not an ideal circumstance, but he is going to be a great father. and I look around and think I am ready to be open to a relationship and get to a point where a baby is a possibility...but I don't know what I would do if I had just baby. I guess I'd figure it out as I went along.

Ick. goofy disjointed post. Also, got a call-back from big consulting firm about a Corporate Training Co-ordinator. I could do that. Now I just need Bunkles to tell me what he does (that is what he does for my company). He's coming in early to have coffee w/me.

I am so ready for something good to happen. Also, I feel like Shy is my big test in life. He offered me a job working for him. I do not want to work for him. He puts $50K on the table, 1/2 of it being a non-taxed check. To be office manager of a dialysis center he is trying to get up and running. But I can't. He is my friend on a good day and an acquaintance when he shows his bum. That does not mix well w/ a professional relationship. Even for $50K. I haven't given the official no but I know better than to take the devil's offer.

You guys can email your thoughts on this... I'm in massive need of guidance.

I approach "friendly debates" like competing on Survivor.

1. I am in it to win...

2. I will be patient for as long as it takes.

3. I will Outwit, Outplay and Outlast (TM)

4. I can concede the battle but not the war

bring it Bee-otch! (yeeeeeaaaaahhhh bumblebee!)

case in point, I am a day late on the David Vitter (U.S. R. Senator from LA) info. I saw it on MSNBC yesterday and laughed until I cried. I am 2 days late on posting.

I laughed until I cried because Jenny Bear helped out with his campaign. She was uber-committed and politically backing of this douche. When we lived together our routine consisted of Saturday morning coffee while washing clothes... before Tourettes woke up hung-over from Friday night.

Coffee was usually several hours of talking about everything under the sun. Lot of politics as well... with a background rumble of cartoons (for ambiance).

I take no issue with Vitter, but I did sort of cock my head to the side over his "Family Values" platform and strong righteousness. I'm not saying I don't believe in those things. I do. But if a public figure wears this as his super-hero cloak... note 2 things:

* You better believe it 110%

* and you better live it 110%

Meaning you do not get to do anything wrong EVER! why? Because you look like the worst sort of slimy politician... because you were supposed to be the good guy. If not EVEN you can get it right, we are all f*cked.

Our further battle to the death was the proposed bill that banned same sex marriages. Ok, I said it was a long time ago. The issue I took with the stands of politicians was a religious bias. I argued from the stance of "We live in America, we have a separation of Church and State. You can feel strongly anti-same sex marriage... but argue it without bringing Christianity into it and tell me why it's wrong. The idea of marriage that is controversial is an institution recognized by the state. It is separate from what the Church recognizes which the state can not outlaw and the church doesn't have to recognize. People still live in union..."

Enter Vitter to put his foot in his mouth. How sacred are those vows he righteously upheld? and the is the apology now because he suddenly feels bad, or he suddenly got caught? hmmmm.... where was the askance of forgiveness when he smited his marriage?

hee hee.

So I talk to JB today.... and she says "I was waiting for you to call me. Ok you got THIS ONE, but you are still backing Jindal and he's a Republican too, so I won that one." hee hee.

Also, the bribe taking- Urkel looking Cleo Fields is running again for State Senate as the incumbent.... so the Politician won't be getting that one. Here is hoping I'm wrong on that one. I will still support and back him.. but a little quieter and more demurely.... he is after all running against an incumbent.

Idealism is expensive.

I think it may be the most expensive trait I encompass. Even more so than petulance, shoe fetishes or being a mini snob. Mini because I can not afford to be a big-girl snob. So I've retaliated by being Bond Girl on a Budget. Very super hero like... very super heroine looking... but today my entire outfit was massively on sale at the Banana Republic.

and yet...

So I need a new job. I am still aggressively b*tch slapping sites w/my resume. The hits are coming, slow at times, then in spurts... then offers I cannot afford to take. Or the no from progressive and Pfizer which was uncharted territory.

Talking to Dk (yes I am now talking to him. 4 times a day. He calls 4 times a day. every day. it's hard to stay that mad for that long!) he says "really? offers you CAN'T AFFORD to take, really K? Dramatic much?"

no. and i resent the implication.

I did get a hit that made me sit right up. Coordinator for a new non-profit initiative to promote literacy in my parish (think county) as a test and ultimately state-wide school system. Whoa! I want it. Yes, please. Now, please.

I got this nibble from the local government and based on teaching for JA and other stuff. Very exciting. So what the problem is?

I will tell you and then we will have a deafening moment of silence for how broke I am about to be.

It is under the umbrella (brella...brella. I hate that song) of the AmeriCorps. This job is a full time position for appx. $11,000 for the 1 year commitment. F*CK. ohhh and at the end you get a 4,500 stipend to go towards educational expenses. Basically Loans or Tuition.

I am going to be sick.

Bianca quips "No, you are about to be a weekend bar-tender." I give her an EDS to which she snickers and says "You are too passionate about this. You have already talked yourself into it. You and that goofy bleeding heart". ugh.

Dream Killer's take? He is about to be a law clerk for the Dept of Insurance and still getting student loans. He looks like a slimy weasely-snake hissing "I look really good to you right now, don't I?"

ummm. no. no you do not.

Mr. Johnny Walker.. he looks like a prince among men.

I am further saddened by this as I get ready for work this morning and imagine how much I could cut my expenses and how little I could live on. I remember the days when my hand lotion (Clarins) was a luxery. Like the only way I got it was because my mommy would feel sorry for me and take to to a department store make up counter and buy me stuff.

Today I am a Decepticon... Specifically Starscream.

and new starscream too... with all of his dreams of grandeur.

why Decepticon you ask? even though i thoroughly heart the BumbleBee

Because I cheated on my girlfriend and she kind of knows... and she threatened to stab me in the hand with a pen if she gets confirmation that I cheated.

Wow the explanation of that one sentence is going to be too long. Off we go.

During Bunny and I's date, it was after work and I'd worn a dress. She went home after work so she showed up comfortable in jeans. So people at the restaurant kind of thought we were together. Which was funny. So when we saw people we knew and they came to say "hi" she offered "between K and I, I am the girl in this relationship because I called it 1st!" rat bastard.

So weeks later Bianca and I are having dinner at the same restaurant and I tell that story. and finish with "so between you and I, if people think we are together I get to be the girl because I called it!"

So her birthday was yesterday. B-day dinner got pushed to earlier movie and then dinner tonight. The movie is Transformers. A while ago she made me promise to see it with her. I said sure. and I meant to wait...

but then on the 4th of July.... it was rainy... and Tourettes called early in the morning with tickets... and Bianca was out of town... and I was weak.

On the phone today we are picking the time, and out of the blue she says "YOU'VE SEEN IT! I can hear it in your voice!" to which I promptly respond "NO! why would you say that?"

because I am the best liar in the world.

and by best I mean the only way I could be worse would be if there was a ticker above my head that allowed you to read my thoughts.

To which she says "ok, but if I get the slightest inkling that you have seen it, you see this pen... I will stab you in the hand with this pen"

I say "which pen?" get it? we were on the phone.

Right. so going to see the transformers again, and still very very excited.

Is dating a married man like buying a fake Fendi?

That is a serious question. I foresee this post being a bit disjointed. I shall try to connect the dots as quickly as possible.

and at some point... most young ladies actually have to settle the question with themselves... Would you date a married man?

For me that would not be the question... Mine would be... What do you hope to get out of this? and is it different than philosophy you go into dating anyone with? I contend that it is.

It comes up as Tourettes has a new roommate. A girl she has know forever and ever. I met her a couple of weeks ago and I take no issue with her. I tell Tourettes so and she is ECSTATIC, because apparently people do not so much warm up to Febreeze (as I so dub her!). After yesterday, I see why.

She has lost her mother and long-time boyfriend both recently. Mom to terminal cancer. Ex-boyfriends is terminally an a*shole. She is 30 (?) and an accountant type person. She has small hands and feet. Like a rat. She is the 1st Puerto Rican I've ever met with a VERY southern accent. It just doesn't make sense. She is domestic, Tourettes needs that. She is nice enough... She has a "sugar daddy" as she calls him, who is her ex-boyfriend. He is very married and has been since the day she met him.

I agreed to an adult version of a slumber party. It sucked. It was lots of drama. I remember these being better. I left early.

I follow Febreeze around as she is neurotically cleaning. I help. She says the house cannot look like this when her "man" comes over. I say, trying to be tactful, "oh, so things are working out with you and the ex?" no. "So you are seeing someone new?" nope. "err?"

Intro "sugar daddy". She explains that while he is married, it is not his fault that he cheats... he's in an arranged marriage. That he divorced the love of his life for, because his parents did not approve. Everyone loves him, he's very charming, he's such a sweetheart and (here is the cherry on the cake) once upon a time she thought it would be awful being the OTHER WOMAN but it's really not that bad.

That's funny. It kind of looks like he has no balls and you have no self respect/esteem.

I don't want to be judgemental. I really don't. But really?

I ask if she thinks she will ever marry. She says she does not want to and what is the point. She cites LA's common law marriage laws as proof of her legitimacy without a license. Yes, but if someone else has said license over him... you aren't entitled to squat. Even if he pays your rent for over a year.

Now I am trying to wrap my head around is what she is getting out of the arrangement. Want to know what it is? Dinner. and sometimes a he pays for things like a hair cut.

Granted dinner is Ruth's Chris, Sullivan's and Primo's (all really nice restaurants here). So you are sinning your soul, shredding your reputation, and creating a situation that perpetually makes you feel bad about yourself for better food?

Most guys you meet who want to take you out will take you to the best place within their means. So this is not special. Plus we all have a certain something..... what is it?..... what do they call it?... how do you say it in this language?.....

Oh yeah, IT'S CALLED A MUTHA F*CKIN JOB... FOR WHICH YOU GET PAID IN US DOLLARS!

So, I leave Febreeze and take my wine back to the couch and fill my not-going-to-get-me-in-trouble-mouth with cheese, crackers, apples and caramel. all at once. Tourettes is laughing at me. She says "You have to remember... She is fat. This is the best she thinks she is ever going to do"

Here's where the Fendi comes in. I currently do not own a Fendi bag, nor a Prada. One day I will but for today it is beyond my means (at least the the one I would want). I am trying to be more educated, more qualified and higher up on the pay scale so that I may be able to afford such a thing. If I marry well and the hubby is able to provide such a thing, cheers.

In the face of lack of Fendi, I have seen lots of fakes. lots. But I don't want a fake cheap purse. Even if no one else knows it is fake, I would know. I am also not willing to spend the chicken feed I make on such a thing and be able to do things like put gas in my car. so the big girl decision is "not yet on the Fendi".

Is Febreeze's non-relationship with a married man like buying a fake Fendi? A real relationship being the actual designer bag? Is it settling for something that looks a hell of a lot like the real thing... without the most essential things that make it legitimately worth having?

and in the face of selling herself for stuff... when it all comes down to it... if all you had was the real Fendi bought by a married man... would it be worth it? When everyone you know doesn't respect you because of your public non-relationship... how good does that bag really look?

Back to this compared to dating. Is it not the same as "dating" a man for where he takes you and what he buys you? Gold-digging as it were. That is wrong too. But the married thing makes it worse. He has a wife and 2 kids. If he is a Sh*t of a man then you are replaceable. Yes, if not you, then it would be someone else. Even if it is you, it is not only you and the next one gets younger and prettier. You are helping him to disrespect the idea and ideal of family. and if you don't think he chooses them over you... he does it everyday. By staying married.

Summation. I take no over-arching issue with Febreeze. What she does or does not do is her business. But I do not respect her. and I don't see us being best buds... and I don't think I'd spend lots of time in public with her either. How does the saying go? Lay down with dogs, get up with fleas? The married man is Arabic. I have known of him for years. I don't respect him either. But he has picked up my tab in better bars out of a kind of respect. He thinks I would tell his wife. I don't think enough of either of them to do such a thing.

I'm still holding out for the real Fendi. with all of the legitimacy it implies.

Blue Crushes all around...or Blue Hawiians...whichever

You must be 18 to serve alcohol.

You must be 21 to consume alcohol (and buy lottery tickets. and cigarettes?)

You must be 21 to flirt with me.

You must be 24 to take me out.

You must be at least 26-ish to be taken serious by me.

So those last couple are kind of tentative. :)

I say this in light of few recent events. 1st of TRANSFORMERS WAS AWESOME! I don't remember the last time I was in a movie theater transfixed and clapping like a child. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Tourettes threatened to sit on me if I didn't shut up. So what, she weighs like 2 lbs. I can take her.

As we leave she says "That was so great... I feel like we should have an adventure! Or just lunch." We had lunch.

But... I have drinks tentatively scheduled for tomorrow evening... with a 21 year old bartender. This is not good. I said yes because I really wanted to say no. But this is how we are to have experience and stop being awkward. Yes? ok, I have no idea.

Coffee this morning yielded the girlies and I talking about patterns. Patterns in our lives, our mistakes, our decisions. and how to change such things. Lemon may have been a repeat of another guy who tried to date me. Super sweet and I kind of didn't recognize how special it was. Because it is. Or I just didn't know what to do with it.

So you promise yourself that next time you will be different the next time, and then it comes back... and you do the same thing. Crazy right?

Intro bartender. Bartender at a restaurant/bar that I've been dragged to a good couple of times in the past couple of months. He is always sweet sweet. He makes me cool stuff and entertains me when I do not want to talk to anyone else at the bar. The last time I was there he asked for my #. I took his instead (which means I'm not going to call. Eventually I will call a # I have been given... it just hasn't happened yet). He puts his # in my phone... and calls himself. So now he has my #. Very good.

I deleted his #. He just hasn't been around long enough to earn a permanent place (like my phone is permanent... do know how many I've been through in the last year?!)

But he texts. He's cool. He's in summer school. This does not look good. I didn't know he was 21 until I'd already agreed to have drinks. But I am still going to go... if only to get used to the idea... and learning to be open and comfortable with myself. (ohhhh I sound like a loser!)

Which oddly enough is why I had lunch with the 22 year old. How did I miss that he was not that cute? Scotch. That was how. The night I met him, Scotch was my best friend. He showed up at the Olive garden in shorts, tee shirt, and flip flops. After expressing for several days how much he looked forward to this. No, that looks like you are a slob. That is what it looks like. It also looks like lack of effort.

Yes I acknowlege I am spoiled. And what makes it worse is that not even retardo Dream Killer can say he doesn't know how to behave himself. He changed his cell to an international plan and bought a cheaper cell in London to call me 4 times a day every day. Yes guys know how to pursue a prize and don't ever let me hear you say differently.

The conversation was cool but it was evident that we were just on different wave lengths. He's never been to college and is fiercely proud of being a "blue collar" worker. There is nothing wrong with that. But he brought much ex-girlfriend issues to the table. literally. Which looks out of place for a 1st date and also looks like it is not my problem. So no more him.

My friends try to pass it off as he is young and he doesn't know any better. Which is cool. It is not like I told him that I would never answer the phone when he calls again. I did politely thank him for lunch. But the experience itself was good.

But yeah... we are about to have one more parameter for saying no... age. who knew I would get the young ones? What's up with that? It's not like I get the option of Floridian surfers ;) like some people.

I am a techno- idiot.

...otherwise known as ... "Come back, Michael...come back..."

Did my words look like were fading away... they were supposed to. With 'I love youuuuuuu' whispered at the end.

So one of the big changes as my workplace is that internet radion/tv/streaming media has been blocked. Or just the big ones. Like YouTube and Pandora. Or maybe just YouTube and Pandora. Now I seek other ways to amuse myself. and have successfully found internet radio/TV/and streaming media.

I found a jazz/big band/standards radio station which was cool. It has a link to Michael Buble's website, which I like. I click. he sings.

I bounce around to "Everything" and sigh to the beginning of something else... and I somehow managed to mis-click... because now there is silence.

And I am pouting at the computer screen. Because I am sure it is his fault (this moniter has never liked me). So Plan A was pout and stare until the sound of Michael's voice came back.

Oddly enough, that isn't going really well.

Plan B was to try to fix it myself. As I am still locked out of all internal computer systems, I figure 'How much harm can I really do?'

Plan C is to suck it up and ask an IT guy. But then I would have to admit that I am just spreading the papers around to look like I did something. No, we cannot do that.

Plan B it is.

Please work, please please please.

Update: I pulled the plug out of the wall. plugged back in and turned computer back on. It works now :)

The Future of Medicine Should Scare You

"He's lovable like you! There have been times that I wanted to pop your head off and put it at the top of a tree with you body in a whole other tree... but given a little time, I can't stay mad at you and I would spend every cent I have to put you back together again."

This was the analogy my mom gives me on my way into work. WTF?

One of her little case techs is in BIG trouble and she is not taking this well. We've established everybody loves my mom. Especially all the newbie hospital staff, case techs, and kids that work at the hospital trying to get into medical school.

On a good day she lets them hide behind a desk and study while at work. plus she feeds them, so now they follow her like a mother duck... on a bad day she chases them with a broom or throws things if she has to- to get stuff done. She puts the fear of God into them... with a very English accent even.

So Techie is a lovable goof. He has been accepted to LSU-Shreveport (med-school) for August.

He was bopping around on Friday. In an operating room where they are working on a carotid artery (major artery... if they mess up... you die) some genius gives Techie a piece of dry ice. He put it in a blown up latex glove with the intention of hanging around until the ice popped the glove.

He was not in the room when it popped. It did not disturb the surgery because it was almost done. But it popped very loudly. That is beside the point.

Someone finds the glove and no one knows who it belongs to. Until it is being discussed in the hall, and Techie hears it and says "Darn! I missed it! I wanted to be there for it!" So he busted himself.

The Doc in the OR reported it to HR who sent him home. Techie is informed and hides behind my mom. Mom should have been told 1st... she is the supervisor. Doc was highly upset so he didn't tell her. There is nothing mom can do at this point, Techie has to appear before a committee.

It's about to get worse.

Fast forward to Monday. Doc has had the weekend to think about it... or more specifically to have his ego stroked and righteousness inflamed by an Anesthesia Tech who did not get into med school. Doc is also going to have a chit chat with the committee and pen a letter to LSU-Shreveport. So that Techie may not have plans for the coming fall.

Mom is not taking this well.

She calls me to ask "Should I call Techie and tell him to grovel? Have his dad write letters and grovel as well. If he doesn't throw his weight behind his son... He's not going to med school... he will be devastated. I don't think he even understands the severity of this. Blast you kids!"

Hey! I resent that.

The other thing is that the Doc thinks my mom takes Techie's side. and the only reason he has been productive for a year and a half is because mom is behind him with a broom. I say that makes her effective. If there is anything of value in you, my mom will find it. So mom can give her professional opinion... which is only that he has potential.

The only other way she gets honorable mention is that Techie once brought his guitar to work. and played it at the nurses station with a back surgery in progress behind him. She grabbed him by the ear and raised hell in a closet. The guitar has not shown up since. So she has the merit of being effective.

But Techie is young minded. He does immature things and has a lot of growing up to do, yes. Maybe med school with straighten him up, but maybe not. and is this what you want in your Operating room? Removing your spleen... or other miscellaneous surgeries.

It is nice mom asked my opinion, but I know I am the sounding board for her to bounce off of. She is going to try her damnedest to save him. Because that is the bitty bitty moms that she is.

I'm Done.

June LSAT. 155. That is 2 better than February and 2 less than June 2006. So that is what I am applying with. Okay. This could be worse.

It is 64 percentile. and under the very best circumstances. I have to feel good about that I guess. and this is what makes us accept that I'm not going to do better than the 157. Shit.

Ok let's see what the Princeton's Review's refund policy is.

So I walked away from this. and I come back. I am tired of hearing no. I will say that I do not feel like so much of a failure. I tested well on every practice. I did better on EVERY practice... and I took a lot of them. Maybe it is the way I stress myself out... Maybe I am just not that smart.

Now I feel like the point I start my applications from is.... "I know this doesn't look GREAT... but really I am going to make you proud of me... Just let me in."

Maybe Malty Milt Head has the right idea. and the better approach is to step back and figure out why the no. and what I'm doing wrong. and what I need to do better. and where I am going to go to law school.

Update part 3.
I looked at my answers. I stuck to my strategy... and this is what happened.

1 Logic/Arguments. I had to shoot for 20. I hit my 20
2 games- I had to do all. I finished and only got 3 wrong
3 1st reading... this was experimental... I got that
4 2nd reading... harder than 1st I knew it would be my worst section
5 2nd Logic/arguments. Even I knew I was tired at this point. I struggled to test through it and I didn't hit my 20. This is what messed up my score. 1 or 2 more questions right here and I would have at least gotten the 157 I started with.

and not even this makes me feel any better... and I cannot do it again. Only 3 times in a 2 year period. ugh part 2

Cat-callers are the public equivalent to some guy in a club.

Last night yielded this somewhat profound realization.

Let set the premises...

1. Guys who yell stuff on the street at women are trying to get laid.
2. These guys are under the impression this method is effective (maybe for some it is)
3. Their basic stance is that you can not get a girl's phone number if you don't say anything (there may be something to this)
4. I don't think much thought is put into what is actually said. The mission is to get a girl's attention. By any means necessary.
5. Even catcallers admit that this is easier done when not-sober.

oh and women have yet to figure out the formula of what men yell at and why. We also think these guys are jokes.

1. Guys in bars who approach women are trying to get laid.
2. These guys are under the impression this method is effective (and for a lot it is)
3. Their basic stance is that you can not get a girl's phone number if you don't say anything. (there is definitely something to this)
4. I don't think much thought is put into what is actually said. The mission is to get a girl's attention. By any means necessary.
5. Even guys in bars admit this is easier done when not-sober.

You see the similarities? Women, as a group, kind of don't.

I give you a second to let that sink in.

Now that we have the premises... let's talk about the disconnects. The differences if you will.
1. For the most part, being in a bar requires $. On the street does not. This sort of suggests that have some form of income.
2. Being in a bar gives you more diversity in they type of guys that approach you. As opposed to say... a certain type of minority using a certain type of vernacular.
3. Being approached in a bar is far less embarrassing and is less scary.
4. Women are more relaxed in bars. and usually more open to being approached.
5. Plus it helps that most decent bars have some sort of dress code or an idea of what is acceptable and more importantly... what is not.

In both scenarios... neither guy is looking for a fulfilling long-lasting committed relationship. At least not there.

My basic stance on guy in a bar... is that you are there for entertainment purposes. Maybe that is why I lack a proper boyfriend... because there are just situations I don't take seriously. I usually don't give my # out. I'll take the guy's #. But the chances I'm going to call are next to you hitting the lottery... again this is not about me.

So what about the idea that calling a woman out on the street is an exertion of dominance and an overt power struggle... is it less so in a bar? The female perception is that it is. Yes he may be doing it to impress his friends. Yes he may talk trash the minute you leave. But it is easier for women to believe that the bar situation had something to do with US (and in some cases I'm sure it does).

We all want that bit of romance that begins "We locked eyes from across the room and I was instantly drawn to her/him..." But on the street... if you don't look pretty freakin impressive... the chances of that scenario going that way are not good.

So final analysis... If you're looking to pick up women... stick to the bars. If you desperately trying to pick someone up on the street... You'd better be hot and start with the first words you learn in every language "Good Morning/Afternoon/ Evening" and "My name is..."

I am a Sheep. Baaaaa

I say so because I am about to write about an issue that everyone is writing about. Kimberly Klinger. She is a writer for the Washington City paper.

The link to her online article is I've Got You're Hey Baby Right Here.

She writes and chronicles the ways she is catcalled in public. You know what that is... you walk by a guy or a group and they make kissing noises, or there is the infamous "Daaaaaaaam", or something equally as articulate is screamed out.

Women have long tried to figure out how these guys are expecting this to work in their favor. Monito died laughing the day I was on the phone with him, while pumping my own gas, some guy drove by and honked screaming something supposedly complimentary out the window.

How was that supposed to work for that guy? how? was I gonna put the gas pump back, jump in the car and chase him down? is that what was supposed to happen?

Her article suggests that for the guys who engage in this type of activity it is for the sake of power. For them to feel powerful. I can see that. Like a rapist is seeking to be in control, also about power. Especially since those that engage in it are the least powerful. Supposedly minorities and less educated with nothing better to do then hang out on a street corner all day trawling for women.

and women find it digusting. not flattering. not at all. we know that it is not because we are hot, it truely has nothing to do with us. the guy calling us out in public is trying to say anything to get laid.

But I wonder if her way of dealing with it is most effective. She screams back, flips people off, and generally make it worse. I have found my own way of dealing with it and gotten basically good results. I don't scream. I don't like to. It hurts my throat, I'm not usually a screamer at people. and I don't like to be embarrassed in public...

1. You try to ignore as much of it as you can (all women do)
2. If accosted you try to be patient and look confused
3. Say thank you for the compliment and you have a boyfriend
4. Say something like "that is not how you speak to a lady. that's disrespectful to your mother"

The last one works well here. Not so much in NYC. Lucky for me, in most major cities I have had my overly protective sis to do the screaming and flipping off, so I am not only trying to get away from some guy on a street, but also get my sister away from them. Because she will get into a fist fight anytime, anyplace for damn near any reason. There is definitely something to be said about southern hospitality.

I say all of this because DJ Sabrozo is opening his club tonight. and all of the girlies and I promised to show up to support him. It is a latin club... with all of the gold and silver teeth that is expected. Talking to JB yesterday she used to be very opposed to salsa dancing. I don't care, It's the concession my friends give me. I love you, you will show up and be happy about it. I do trashy clubs for Tourettes, and look-at-me nights for JB, even pulled out of a bookstore (wearing jeans, a tank top and flip flops.... literally my shoes went flip and flop when I walked) and dragged to dinner and 3 successive bars because Bianca was about to kill her sidekick. and then everyone else we know showed up.

Back to JB. She is unusually psyched. I am curious about this... she explains she is still in look-at-me phase. and she knows that latin clubs are full of all the guys who say dumb sh*t. any other day, she could have written Ms. Klinger's article. Will let you know how this turns out.

"Honey I love you, I just can't pay that much for a blouse."

This is what made me leave the mall today.

The mall is on sale.

We love the mall on sale.

We (I) found myself in Dillard's saying this aloud to a Michael Kors blouse.

It was time to go.


Furthermore... How does the saying go? Tell me who your friends are, and I'll know who you are. I had dinner last night with Bianca and Bunny. As Bianca only knows Bunny superficially and called her crazy... I feel the need to demonstrate that she is not. Plus I owed Bianca dinner because she paid for all of last Friday which was so not cheap and for helping me pull basic research for Shy's lawsuit. He has lawyers. lots of them... so why are we doing the b*tchwork? He lacks people skills and picked a sucky local lawyer. and then fired him and got another sucky lawyer. So if he changes again... anything he gets out of a settlement gets eaten up in lawyers fees. But that is not the point of the story.

So we are at dinner and I relay the bad Olive Garden date. My lunch and a movie... turned into just lunch. But that is a whole different post... I didn't want to sit next to him in the dark. and truly it is not the Olive Garden that was held against him. I have been know to eat some junk. and Olive Garden is not TERRIBLE terrible... just not really great. I live in south LA. We are spoiled by great food. (except for the brunch that I wanted scrambled eggs and was fed (or I ordered) yucky eggs benedict but in great ambiance with the most wonderful company so the bad eggs didn't matter... Thanks Lemon)

... and Bianca tells a tidbit of her parents... which is a bit of lore. Her parents are an urban myth. They've been married for 11ty billion years... and they still love each other. The 3 of us wonder if our generation is too self-involved (word supplied by Dk... changed to SELFISH by Bianca) to settle... and once we are married... to stick to it forever and ever. In truth, maybe we are.

Bunny's dad died when she was younger. She was Homecoming Queen at her high school so her mom had her Engagement ring melted down into a tiara pendent with the Diamond as the center piece. It is very beautiful and the gesture is very moving... and of course Bunny was queen... she is stinking gorgeous.

Bianca's parents are retired... and remodeling the house... and bought a huge plasma screen television... Bianca is a whole attorney who calls her parents once a week to say "STOP SPENDING MY INHERITANCE!"and hangs up.

Apparently... we are spoiled. and in good form, I put my foot in my mouth by pointing out how both Bunny and Bianca are but saying that surely I was different. They both spit out their food to keep from choking. Today, Shy tried to make it better by saying "But you are spoiled in a way that you think everyone is supposed to be nice to every other person. Not just you. So it's not spoiled in a bad way"

Like I don't know when I'm being pacified. Rat Bastard.

All- Star reject.

Ok so Pfizer is a no. but I kind of saw that coming. The regional manager asked 11ty billion questions about my selling motivation and all I had to come back with was personality, minimal sales experience, and a lot of make-the-world-a-better-place experience.

So these past couple of days are not looking so sparkly. Malty Milt Head is still gung-ho about working on me... and I want to crawl under a rock. but that is not what we are going to do.

I am frustrated... I've never heard so many no's in such a short amount of time... or all together actually. I am looking at each as a learning experience... so what do I need to do differently.

1. Find job I really want
2. Be able to express how it fits into my grand plan
3. Do not mention Lsat or Law school
4. Find said job relatively quickly.

and as much as I do not want to go back to my job... I do still have one. that will hopefully enable me to keep looking. and at least keep paying my bills... and I do not want to stay here until law school wherever it may be. I want to leave.

So if the resume keeps getting picked up, the problem is the interviewing? I've been told I interview well. I've met me... I like me... but if I am giving people the impression that a job I am applying for is beneath me... do I lower my self to said criteria and sell myself as this is all I encompass or do I aim higher... and what is higher? exactly.

Back to the drawing board, kiddies. Also, I will tell you about being wait-listed for swim lessons as soon as it bites me in the bum. You know you just know something is gonna bite you... and you have to do it your own way anyway? this is that. and I am a dork.

Verdict on Yesterday.

SUCKED! with silver linings and warm and squishy undertones.

I would like to say I was in mourning yesterday... but what really kept me from blogging was that I was watching the Age of Love. Tacky. I know. Tragic... I'm with you... and yet....

oh and I want him to pick a 40 year old. Because while the 20 somethings are pretty-ish... they were catty, superficial, and overly mean. I don't think they were truly representative of my age ground and I don't think that one among them was whole. but then again we do not see all of who and how they are... it is the nature of editing... and yet I still want him to pick a 40 something... so all of the mean 20 somethings can suck it.

I learned a lot yesterday. Did not get the position w/Progressive... because between Lsat, IQ and personality... 1. the regional manager thought the job was beneath me and 2. I look like a flight risk.

What did we learn? Don't say "I want to go to Law School or I just re-took the LSAT". When asked where you see yourself in 5 years... lie for all you are worth.

on to drug comp... It's hard to guage how that went. She asked stuff I was sort of prepared for but then some sweeping generalities that made me go uhhhhhh... very stressful. also... do not joke with a recruiter unless you know how it will be taken. Better yet... don't do it.

So I listed w/ a staffing firm also. If I want to go to law school and technically what I do is a division of our legal dept... I can find something in the field that will pay me enough... right? I'm not a paralegal but I have a real degree and work history and am competant so that should put me head and shoulders above an a**load of the competition... I've met non-attorneys that work at law firms... their jobs DO NOT look like rocket science. I know I can do this.

We are most aggressively looking this week and will go back to the job I have on Monday. Rat bastard to infinity. If anything it is just for now. sigh.

Also, Malty Milt Head is way to excited to be debriefed on the whole play by play so on the off chance I get the "thank you, but no" email... we will know what to do differently.

Really good or Really bad

Today is one of those days... it's either gonna ROCK or completely SUCK. no in between. Not today.

and as I get psyched for phone screening... Malty Milt Head sends me this...

You're about to be faced with several exciting opportunities. The good news is that they will add a lot of excitement to your life, and get you a lot of attention. The bad news is that all the activity will probably separate you from the people you really care about, at least for a few days. Be sure to be clear about your commitments, so that friends won't be disappointed. Set up realistic expectations.

Horror-scope extraordinaire... almost enough to make one superstitious. almost.

Stalking is never good advise!

Go with me...

So as I am doing research and talking to everyone who will talk to me about rep-ing for drugs... I find myself at my Friendly Commercial Bookseller. (it is Barnes and Nobles but has had repeat appearances... soon you will get the abbr. FCB...remeber this, there will be a test)

I pull a book... I forget the title but it's Lisa somebody and something like 3 days to drug rep interview. I imagine I could benefit from this. I snuggle down and flip through to see if it is worth buying. It is not. However, I do have plans to go visit it later today.

Her "program" consists of Day 1:

1. Wear a business casual outfit and carry about 20 resumes. (no problem there)
2. Drive to a facility that houses lots of doctors for a little before 7 am. (still not bad) and prepare to stay all day. Do not leave for lunch.
3. Wait for reps to pass by. You will recognize them by their suits and the rummaging in the truck of a lesser car (Ford Escort, Chevy Malibu, Pontiac Grand Prix). also by the container of samples. (this is where it starts to not look good)
4. Say hello to each rep that passes by (not bad)
5. Offer to help them carry whatever (suspect...)

6. Introduce yourself and express interest in being a rep...
7. Ask if they know of any openings and if they are willing to help you get a job.
8. Ask for their card and if you can call them later tonight.
9. Keep list of all the 'contacts' you make... etc.
10. Follow up that night. Send them your resume and ask for their boss's contact information.

Day 3 and the interview stuff is the stuff from this book I can use. But I couldn't justify spending $30 on this.

Ok... Let's talk about this. Yes reps are generally known to be a charismatic and personable set. Yes they are friendly. Yes as someone who once had the stress of interviewing for a month; they are sympathetic to someone trying to break in to the bizz... But you are also asking them to stake their professional reputation on someone who approached them like a seller of Rolex watches on the streets of NY. (psst.... you in the suit... over here) because you are essentially selling yourself.

BUT WHAT SHE SUGGESTS IS AKIN TO STALKING!

You are also talking about a large number of very attractive females in this position. Male or female... if you or an equivalent "business casual" stranger walked up to me and asked me to help them get a job... You just might get maced. and that is what's up.

But let's give her the benefit of the doubt. This is an industry that rewards aggressiveness (it is on my list of behaviors I am supposed to exhibit) and let's say that you get 2 leads out the 20 people you talk to. You call at home and get the inside track from one of those. and they sorry rep who feels sorry for you does recommend you... 18 other reps (who would potentially be your peers) think you are a bona fide NUT JOB! and bad news travels fast.

They already have all of the medical contacts you are trying to make. So if is does work, does it really? ick. will outline basic approach later tonight.

Yesterday I thumb wrestled with a complete stranger...

twice. and he let me win... twice.

I was picking up my new glasses and I had to wait. I was bored so I asked the guy next to me to thumb wrestle. He was surprisingly funny. Especially as he is a newbie chemical engineer... so he was as much of a dork as I am. awwww...

and later that day I saw Tourettes have a fist fight with 2 plastic flower plants... and she lost. To a plastic flower. So I guess you would not be surprised if I told you she'd had a drink. or 2. or 8.

Yesterday I was massively enamored with my city. Truly I had a fantastic day. You know those days where you kind of wander around and think to yourself "Man, I'm glad I'm here!" that was yesterday. off we go...

Mom got smacked by Karma. Mom does not do her own grocery shopping, I do it. Occasionally she comes along. Mom got divorced when I was 1 1/2. She has no sons, she has no other family here besides my grams. So I am the help she has. She is spoiled. and she knows it.

Thursday we shop for stuff and get to the truck... and find the salt tucked underneath the cart with the bleach. Mom says "check the receipt... did we pay for the salt? I don't remember moving it." I look... not there. She and I are both too lazy to go back and pay for it. So we stole the salt.

Friday morning, in an effort to let mom sleep in, I take grams to hang out with her homies. She goes to an older adults aerobic class... she greatly looks forward to this. As I am digging in the truck to find my fallen newspaper to amuse myself... I find a grocery bag of melted ice cream. All of the ice cream. Slim-a-Bear for grams, Drumsticks for mom, and fruit bars and Italian ices for me... all melted... for 24 hours... under the front passenger seat. ewwww.

The best part is that I had to leave it there until I took grams home and sneak it into mom's trash... because if my grams had seen it we would NEVER have heard the end of it.

The pic is my gift to myself. Yay me. I meant to get it for my graduation present...because it took so long to get the degree.... grrr tigers! and it is made by Mignon Faget... an exclusively Louisiana jeweler. My chain is just the silver rope...the amethyst and citrine would have clashed with too much stuff.

But I think it's time I got this. I am poised and ready to make huge sweeping changes... and maybe something good is gonna come. Not maybe. definitely! You got this? I got this. We got this.

Especially as I get a phone call from Nugget yesterday. DK called and told him about interviews on Monday and suggests Nugget call to advise. Because Nugget is a pharmaceutical rep in D.C. and has a strong background in sales and has beautiful social graces. etc.etc.

And as we talk he is walking out the door to go to NYC for the weekend and asks if I can call him tomorrow... I ask if there is a specific better time for me to call him he says: "K, you can call me anytime I always have a minute for you." stupid considerate kin of the dream killer.

Stupid, awful, thoughtful Dream Killer. This was the equivalent of buying a very thoughtful something pretty. ick.

1 vs. 5,000

X2.

I will explain the title line 1st. Remember that time that I thought there was a chance that I could be a drug rep? and then I spammed the various pharmaceutical websites with my resume? and then one of the biggest pharma companies (seriously... one of the heavies... if you are reading this you know which one, even if you don't know you know... but you know. exactly what you are thinking... that is probably the one) gave me a nibble. huh?

So Monday I have 2 prelim phone interviews with this company. I immediately call Malty Milt Head who used to work for this exact company to say "Help me! Tell me how to get this job!" So between now and Monday... I have to become uber-corporate drug cheerleader. Yay drugs! or Just say no... unless you are asking your dealer (I mean doctor!) if you can have the stuff you saw on TV.

But the line comes in... as he is calming me down... he says "It's going to be great K. You interview well, you really do. Plus it helps that about 5,000 post for every single one of those jobs. You have had your resume looked at and picked... so now you are in the realm of about 500... and then you had it picked for 2 positions... that is quite impressive."

and yet... an interview does not make an employed drug rep. So he is telling me how and what to research and how and what I am going to be asked, and how and what my responses are to be. This would be uber fantastic.

Am I less excited about the last interview w/ different company today? Nope. If I get an offer from them would I take it? Yep. and still interview for Drug rep? Yep.

Why you ask (you know better than to ask) because July 2nd I have to go back to the job I have. The one I am still getting paid for. As I do not actually go and instead neglect you guys. and the only reason I want to walk into that building is to pack up my piddly things and leave my badge on my bosses desk with a note that says "Please consider this my notice of resignation. Thank you." sign and date.

and new job will hold me through drug processing on the off chance it is not offered to me. So since July 2 is the date that LSAT results are posted... it is the most anticipated date of the season!

Wish me luck. Oh and bat girl is going to have a baby girl. She says as she packs up to move to PA. that is just wrong. sad face for the moving of the bat-girl. :(

You know those people who grow up speaking Spanish at home thier whole lives...

... and then get to high school or college and take a Spanish class and barely make a "B"?

If people at my house spoke spanish... that would be me.

Updates. Scheduled to go back to work on July 2nd. DK has called everyday and talked to the voicemail A LOT. bastard.

With LSAT and Socrates behind me... the new hobby is the formal learning of Hindi... lest I need it one day. I am using the Rosetta Stone. We'll see how this goes.

Mom did it to me again. Yesterday was Father's Day... she guilted me into mandir again, and had me pump her gas. I got back in the truck and told her I was not so comfortable doing anything else in Indian clothes than going to and from function. She was surprisingly understanding. Minus the "you need to be more comfortable with yourself" blah blah. That is another battle for another day.

I have a date this afternoon. I don't really like him, and I don't like that he is 22. But in the interest of gaining insight and experience... off we go. He is the kitchen manager of a great restaurant downtown (c'mon you knew that) so he can cook well... which is always a plus. and works with a guy who bartended at a sister bar at the same time I did. He is now the General Manager of same restaurant. Whenever I see him out he is still super sweet to me.

JB and I saw him out on the infamous night of drinking. He picked up our tab and I don't know how I got his friend's number but there was lots of begging. Plus I was pissed at DK. so I will entertain at least one outing. Nothing serious. late lunch and a movie. I text to see what and where. He leaves me voice mail about "we are going to see whatever YOU want to see. We will go wherever YOU want to go". So he gets points there.

I want to like him. I do. But I don't.

Last interview scheduled for Wednesday for a position I really want. This is #3 with a regional manager. Between the IQ, personality, recruiter screener, and 2 other intverviews... If I don't get this I will be so pissed.

Dk calls again to say he bought special card to call me so I don't have to spend any money to call him (shockingly that was not going to be a problem from my end) and at only 5 pence a minute, he'll call back! bastard part 2.

The one time I did talk to him, to get him squared away for international travel, I am bobbing through the house... he said something and I say "that is on your list!" for him it is the list of things that will get him smacked. he says "I don't think there is very much that I wouldn't get smacked for right now". He got smacked for that.

Taking grams to the emergency room. again.

"No one will ever love you the way that I do"

The first time I heard that, it was in Hindi. It was from Water Buffalo and a year into dating, we had our 1st fight. and I did not understand. Literally, because my Hindi is sketchy at best... and then figuratively... because how does someone say such a thing... and have it be true.

But it is true.

the 2nd time I heard it was from Buffalo's replacement... and after that from angry individuals. and then from the Dream Killer it was rounded out with that every guy that says so... then walks away and finds the love of his life (or the girl he marries... same thing).

So is it true? yes. no. I guess? I don't know

Fast-forward to I heard something similar come out of my mouth... and I didn't recognize my voice. what I heard was "You just lost the best thing that ever happened to you". Do i know that to be true? That someone has lost the present of my presence? Yes. That he recognizes it at "the best thing that ever happened to him"? He says he does. But he has not the benefit of the doubt. Because there is no doubt... and I could say "Don't Speak" because and his words hold no water. (get it? no doubt... gwen... no?)

It is the illustrious Dream Killer. And understand we are not fighting, we are not quarrelling. There is a facet of his personal life I have been enlightened to... and he has lost the love I had for him.

This week I had lunch with him and his dad... I've told you his dad is someone worth knowing. Truly larger than life... a humble greatness... so a letter of recommendation looks spectacular from him. We have lunch to discuss this, LSAT and the special form for Northwestern and all of the dream schools.

DK says that I am not allowed to go to Chicago. His dad sends him to the bar to get a beer so we can talk. He comes back and his re-entry to the conversation is "I'm not paying for Northwestern!" DK's dad says "K... get the acceptance letter and we will find the money." What you are to walk away with is that DK is telling his parents that I am to be the wife. I excuse myself to the bathroom and weigh the pros and cons of sneaking out the window.

Later that afternoon... His arguably ex (she thought they were dating... he was just f*cking...) is having a problem with someone slashing her tires... she thinks it is akin to my situation. I rather disagree... but I don't know what DK has told her. She contacts me over myspace... which has now been pulled down for that very reason.

I tell her she had the courtesy of one conversation. One. Because I remember what it is to be scared out of your skin... and feel crazy. and not be able to talk to anyone else because you think that they will also think you are friggen crazy. So we have coffee. and we talk. and I take the number of her investigator and tell her she can call me if she needs me.

Her car was set on fire. She says DK has been around her stuff a lot. DK didn't do it, 1. a lot of the times stuff happens to her, he is with me. 2. the self-involved ego-maniac is too self involved. 3. He professes his undying love daily. constantly. emphatically... and is trying to make himself whole to be worthy of my love. so he says...

Except that last week she took him to lunch and he pitched for a relationship. why does that sentence look familiar... yes boys and girls... because I was given the very same pitch.

I call and ask... he confirms and finishes with "K! no, K! please listen. please talk to me... I said that to her because I was trying to f*ck her..." (hint... that did not make this better). So I am sick and nauseous with betrayal and contempt. No, I didn't want a relationship with him... but if you hear something long enough.. you kind of start to believe it. and I at least thought he was different that the foul-ness that abounds. no, not so much.

He is not mine and I did not want him to be, so the big girl stance is that this is a portion of his personal life that is not my business. The petulant child in me got taken out by the Jenny Bear because she was the only one I could cry to who has been there the entire time and whose opinion had any weight.

I drank and obnoxious amount of scotch and showed up at his house at like 3 am. In my mind... the way this worked out was that I was going to break everything in his house. The reality was a bit different.

*bang bang bang* (me knocking on the door)
He let me in.
I drank water in between scotches.. I had to pee like a race horse.
I come back to the dining room- he is sitting on the other couch... trying to wake up.

I say (i meant to scream... but that's not how it came out)... I am hurt. You hurt me. Say something to make it better, say something to make it stop. Say something to make me think you have ever cared about me. ever.
He says ... nothing.
I say... I came here with the express purpose of breaking sh*t.
He says "let me find Amel (1 of 2 cats I adopted for him) first... she is skittish with loud noises"

I say... I don't rightly remember... I was angry and slammed out of the house. He follows me out to ask me to stay... I was too intoxicated to drive. and I should have stayed. but I did not. I came home. and woke up and put the anger behind me. He is not mine, he is not for me. But there were pieces that I thought understood me... and if not even he is decent... how will I ever find someone I can trust? how?

I know some guys are great... I've known too many who are... but apparently not for me. I wasn't sleeping with him... and even he was not good. I am not angry, but I am still sad. I am not going to Houston because my back hurt too bad just driving the 45 min to Hammond, how could I do 5 hours to Houston. ugh. and he leaves for London tomorrow. good riddance.

This morning I killed a roach... this afternoon a met a roach.

The title line is actually true. Don't be grossed out... it was one of those outside roaches that burrows under my tangerine tree.

I feel the need to put this out there... before Kaplan releases it... the 3rd section was the experimental. It was the reading comp... I got to say the last section kicked my bum. True to form I finished all of the Games...and had time to double check.

Today was funny...

This morning DK tells me that he is still at Southern because they kicked out his registration for this summer. He is supposed to be leaving for London (study abroad) on Saturday. We are supposed to go to Houston Friday-ish and I take big-boy jeep back on Sunday.

So it matters TODAY...because he was supposed to drive me to Hammond. No worries. I Map-quested. I can find it myself. I was told in enough time to get good and lost. and that is what I did.

I did however find the Marines recruiting office in Hammond. The little guy tried to tell me where Southeastern's campus was... and I got further lost. I found a Storage Center and a nice old lady who let me use the restroom and gave me "better directions". I got even further lost and pulled up next to a cop at a stop light. I rolled the window down and asked for directions... He put on the sirens and let me follow him to SLU. So I had a police escort. yay.

I find campus and then try to find the building. I go round and round looking for parking... because I am used to LSU... where you towed from almost everywhere... and eventually found the wrong building. and a secretary who spun me around to the right direction and right building.

Found the building and room. It is by alphabetical order so the other R's are in my room. The room had real table tops... and few people spread out. Not nearly at cramped at LSU. To double check the roll, the oldest proctor in the world calls out our last name. The guy that sat one row over... his last name was "ROACH". I busted out laughing. and ONLY I busted out laughing. Which made me laugh harder. Like a crazy person.

The worst part is that ROACH was really cool. He brought like 12 sharpened pencils to the exam... I had only brought 1. He kept dropping them. He gave me 2 of them. It was nice.

So I got to take the drive home. I want a taco. I am starving. My air conditioning broke and the air condition-fixing people called to say they were on there way. We got here about the same time. I was never so happy to see anyone! (recently, at least). Turns out that it was just a busted voltage regulator and not a busted compressor like another air condition-fixer person had led me to believe. I gave him a Gatorade for his ride home... so now I have no bill for the fixing of my air-conditioning- fixing. yay Gatorade.

Going to get my taco.

Besos.