10 February 2011

Thoughts on Valentine's Day

This is probably going to sound pretty crazy coming from a woman that's never been spurned on the day, but I cannot stand Valentine's Day. Seriously?  I think it's one of the sorriest excuses for a holiday that's ever been.  You want to celebrate something?  Let's make a bigger deal out of Earth Day.  Lots of times Earth Day comes and goes with nothing but a whimper of 'save the planet.'  Not that I'm, you know, a psycho environmental advocate, it's just one of the many other much more important holidays that goes by and doesn't get nearly as much attention as Valentine's Day.  Veteran's Day.  I give a far larger shit about Veteran's Day than I ever could for Valentine's Day.  Even give me D-Day.  I'd celebrate D-Day in a heartbeat over Valentine's Day, but maybe that's just the nerd that lurks inside.

You know what else I can't stand about Valentine's Day?  The women who base their entire first quarter of the year focusing their efforts on what they want their significant other to do for Valentine's Day.  What they want for Valentine's Day.  What swanky restaurant they want to go to for Valentine's Day.  HOW FUCKING DISAPPOINTED THEY'LL BE IF THE DAY ISN'T JUST SO.  

Many women like this have great significant others.  Significant others who cherish and love them and do for them the other 364 days out of the year.  Significant others who probably worship these empty-headed fools, and you know what?  If that otherwise 'perfect' significant other happens to drop any sort of ball on the sacred holiday known as Valentine's Day?  Forget it - a year's worth of good actions have automatically been negated.  

It's amazing how fast the empire can fall, guys.  

In case you couldn't tell, I don't buy Valentine's Day.  I think it's just another way for the corporations and the media to get a stronghold on our checkbooks, self-images, and interpretations of  The Things That Really Matter.  My husband and I don't celebrate Valentine's Day.  Not cards, not flowers, not special dinners out that we shouldn't be spending money on anyway - we celebrate our love 365 days out of the year, and I'll be damned if someone that's not directly involved in my relationship will tell me that any one day in particular is more important than the rest.  Some might be less eventful, sure, but in the grand scheme of things, do we want to be remembered - or remember ourselves - as those who just never stopped comparing the things we were lucky enough to have to the things we had the potential of having? 

Not me, that's for damned sure. 

27 January 2011

Return to Sender

Well hello there, strangers.

It's been almost two years since I've updated this blog and a lot - A LOT - has changed. To be quite honest, I'd rather forgotten this particular journal even existed, and you all probably did too. But alas, here I am - though I'd moved my 'official' platform over to Tumblr once I gained more credence in the blogosphere, I think I'm going to try and maintain this site to give those who actually DO know about it a bit of insight to my personal life (because if you've seen my Tumblr site, you'll know that it's all a bunch of funny pictures and fluff).

It's been awhile since I've actually sat and journaled, and after being reminded by a good friend that this blog still exists, I had the urge to post something - anything - in it.

Let's play a little catch-up, shall we?

The last time we spoke, dear readers, I had just moved from Pennsylvania to Delaware. I was blissfully settling into my surroundings in a new state, with new people, and new patterns. I acclimated myself to Delaware rather fast, and who wouldn't - beach life during the spring and summer months, tax-free shopping (including groceries!), a more laid-back, genteel breed of people, and a quiet solitude that sort of transcends throughout the area. In short? I. love. Delaware. I'll probably never leave.

After living here a few months, I was offered a part-time position at Evil Beet Gossip, a celebrity gossip site that the brilliant and illustrious Sasha Pasulka built from the ground up earlier in the decade. Sasha is a woman who, though I've never met in person, will forever remain embedded in my psyche because she was the one who gave me my start in professional - paid - writing and the subsequent opportunities. I owe her an insurmountable debt of gratitude. Throughout our first year here, the part-time position at Evil Beet turned into a full-time position, and I was handed Zelda Lily on a platter to manage. Though I had no prior experience in managing other writers, let alone the technical aspect of a business-based website, I took to it like a duck to water - I felt as if I'd never done anything else and never would do anything different. Writing has, in every facet of the phrase, become my life. Technical writing, free-form prose, structural analysis - it's not only my passion, but my livelihood. As our second year approached (and my husband's time in school drew closer to an end), I was presented with another amazing proposition by the aforementioned Sasha - I was asked to be the Managing Editor of Evil Beet, her 'baby,' for lack of a better word, as she was selling the business to an interested firm. Naturally, I was taken completely aback, and spent time waffling between both ends of the spectrum - the bright, rosy, optimistic end of 'I can totally do this,' to the bleak, black horizon of 'There's no way I can pull this off.' While I was both excited and apprehensive, there was still no doubt in my mind that I would take this project on, tackle it with both arms, hold it tightly and let it rip. One major lesson I've learned in life is not to allow things to take you for a ride, but to take those things that approach you for a ride of its own, and it hasn't failed me yet.

I've been managing Evil Beet for a few weeks now, and I'm loving every second of it - the professional development and superb networks that I've encountered have both, and equally, completely blown my mind, and I am positively staggered by the blessings that have been bestowed upon me.

My husband, daughter and I have spent almost two years in our current home, and recently gained an opportunity to move a bit (just a bit, mind you!) further inland, to, put it mildly, my dream home. The property is on an acre of private land, littered with hundred-year-old oak and maple trees - the home is a renovated farm house with four bedrooms, two baths, and a screened-in porch right out of Forrest Gump. Blessings? You have no idea. We move in less than two weeks (uncanny, right?) and I cannot begin to tell you how excited, optimistic, and gracious I feel toward the events which have occurred over the past years that ultimately brought me to where I am today. Though there have definitely been dark times, sorrowful occasions, and unfortunate happenings smattered throughout those same past years, I can look through and beyond them, all the while being grateful that they were present, endured, and overcome, because each and every moment that's been experienced has brought me precisely to where I am right. this very. moment. And guys? These moments - those over the past two years - have been the best yet.
I look forward to updating this site a bit more than I have in the past, enduring and documenting good times, inevitable circumstances of trial, and lessons learned through both.

Thanks for reading, and if you're reading this now - thanks for not forgetting me, too.

06 June 2009

Domestic Goddess

I woke up this morning and I could hear my blog calling me, whimpering in the semi-darkness, imploring me to write in it. After lying in bed for a few more minutes, I consciously decided to make an honest effort at a new post today, since it's been almost a month now, since my last post. I apologize for depriving you all of my non-sensical ranting and blissed-out proverbs.

Today was another great day. I seem to wake before the crack of dawn here and it's something that I've really gained quite an appreciation for. I get up early, have my cup(s) of coffee and morning smoke(s) on my front porch and listen to the seagulls crying out their morning songs. The baby and husband woke up about an hour or two after I did and I re-welcomed the day with their awakenings. I fed the baby her breakfast and left her with her dad so that I could take off and kick my own ass at the gym we have on site. I ran two miles today in just about eighteen minutes, which, for me, is pretty damned fantastic. Since we've moved here, just over a month, I've lost eight pounds. I'm not overweight by any far cry, but it's ridiculously nice to be a bit more toned than I was after the whole childbirth thing.

After the gym, I came home and took a long soak in the jacuzzi tub. The husband went to work and babe and I decided to go grocery shopping. I stocked up on more food and spent even more money on things I didn't need, such as candles, housewares and beauty products. I swear sometimes that I have a bit of a shopping compulsion. I could probably go into a hardware store and find something to spend money on. I have no doubts.

We left the grocery store and hit the locally-grown plant and flower stand that's just a few miles from my home. Browsed around and bought a few flower boxes for the front and back porches and some pretty seedlings. I have a huge affinity for lavender and I'd like to grow it. It's probably my most favorite smell in the entire world. I'd have to say the best thing to do with it is let it dry out a bit and allow it to soak in a tub before you get in it. Oh, heavenly.

We came home and had lunch and then I tackled the Cleaning of the Bathrooms. I never thought I'd deplore cleaning bathrooms so much until I had so many of them. It literally took two hours. I washed all of the bedclothes and throw rugs and felt uber accomplished.

To some of you out there, it might sound that I had a bit of a boring day, but to me, it was sheer happiness.

16 May 2009

Beach Living: Total Bliss

More and more the days seem to go by without a post on the old personal blog. I really should try to set aside more time to do this sort of thing. Get me back to my roots of bitching and moaning every which way I could possibly want without having to worry about any sort of repercussions from the public forum! Not that I mind, granted. Nothing better than stirring up the pot a bit here and there.

The move... Well, the move went really smoothly, actually. It was totally surprising, because the weeks leading up to the move were more and more hellish as they went by. It truly felt as if some unseen force were telling me that this wasn't what I should be doing, more problems cropping up than ever before and all signs pointed to "do not pass go". However, I rebelled, as I normally do and ended up here. In paradise.

Our home is gorgeous. I can't believe that we're living in a $350k condo a half mile from the beach. Where this luck came from, I don't even know. It was seriously like a dark cloud was hovering over our every move while we lived in Pennsylvania. We've been in Delaware for a full week and it's been nothing but bliss, good news and sweet happenstance.

The community in which we live has an amazing fitness complex, which I've been utilizing almost every day since I've been here. Well, every day since we've been unpacked, which went surprisingly well, as it were. I'm working out, getting up at the crack of dawn and simply enjoying the fact that I. am not. working. Well, at least at a full-time, forty hour plus week in an office type of job. I work my hours on Zelda Lily and couldn't be happier.

Things are finally seeming to fall into place and I can only credit it to our courage to change, to adapt and to persevere. This sense of contentment has been a long time coming and I'm going to do all that I can to not only keep a firm grip on it, but to keep my feet planted on the ground and my eyes ahead.

29 April 2009

Feelin' Alright

The past few days have gone by in a pleasant blur. And no, not because I've been drinking or drugged, haha, you're all funny.

I think I'm gradually beginning to make peace with my gigantic upheaval and it actually feels good. We've been staying with my mother-in-law, out in the country, which I thought for sure was going to be a supreme disaster. I've been pleasantly surprised. I'm enjoying my time there. I think I'm actually going to miss it a little bit when we do leave next weekend, and I'm not sure if that's to be attributed to the fact that I've been somewhere for more than two days in two weeks, or if I'm simply genuinely enjoying myself. I happen to think it's the latter.

I've been sleeping really well for the past few nights. Very heavily. I've also been getting up much earlier than normal, which seems to set a good tone for the remainder of the day. I actually have time to decompress in the morning from the previous day, so as to prepare myself for the hectic day that's sure to come. And they do. But they've been pretty tolerable lately. I'm decently content.

My daughter is going through a funny phase right now. Totally age-appropriate, but odd to me, nonetheless. She's becoming a Grandma's Girl, as she's been seeing a whole lot more of my MIL, which doesn't upset me, but I feel mildly shunted to the side. I come back from work, super-stoked to see my little dolly and she gives me a dirty look and runs to her Nan (the MIL). I honestly can say that it doesn't upset me... I can understand. I know when I was younger, and even up until I was around sixteen or so, I was the ultimate Grandma's girl. Maybe it's karma coming back to kick me in the ass. I'm sure my mother felt just as neglected as I probably am right now, and I'm sure that I'm just worrying and obsessing over nothing, but still. She's my little sweet pea and I want all of her attention all of the time, 'cause I'm an affection whore.

Regardless. Things are going smoothly. I don't really enjoy living out of a suitcase; all of my stuff is super rumpled and even though I'm getting up much earlier in the morning, I just can't seem to bring myself to break out the iron. That's beyond me right now. It's still odd that my toothbrush is hanging out in a foreign toothbrush holder and the shampoo and conditioner just isn't right, but I'm dealing. My crazy, obsessive-compulsive, perfection-crazed self can take it...

The past few days have proven it!

27 April 2009

Home Sweet Nowhere

It's been nineteen days since my last post, if my math serves me correctly. I could be wrong, but I never said I was a mathematician. I'm a writer. I'm not supposed to be able to add and I don't make bones about it.

Things have been chugging right along as scheduled; for any of you unaware, I'm in the process of a big relocation and packing and sorting and throwing out and (throwing up and) renting moving trucks with dollies and insurance and driving the big twenty-seven foot bitch almost three hundred miles from my current home. Which, incidentally, is no longer my current home, as I vacated this past weekend. I had a ten-hour packing and loading marathon this past Friday and then Saturday, had a four hour unpacking marathon coupled with a fourteen hour round-trip commute. The word "hellish" doesn't even compare to what these past few weeks have actually been.

My family and I are now in limbo. Translation: transients. We stayed with my family this past weekend and moved the remainder of our belongings to my mother-in-law's house, which is about fourteen miles from where I work, out in the great outdoors. The great outdoors meaning "ten miles from the nearest store" and "tick country", which, incidentally, my husband found one on him last night. How awful. I felt buggy all night. I awoke this morning to the sounds of way-out-in-the-country birds, and it was cool; but it was at 5:30 this morning, which is about two hours earlier than I normally get up on a given day, at the latest.

I feel odd, to say the least. I really do feel that sort of homeless sense, or even at least that subtle sense of displacement. All of my belongings are waiting for me in my new home and I'm living out of a suitcase and a train case for the next eleven days. I know I shouldn't feel as oddly as I do, being that we're with family, but I do. I feel discombobulated. I feel spinny. It's almost kind of like having a very, very mild-but-constant anxiety attack. I feel like I kind of don't belong anywhere and I just want to go home. But there is no home to go to right now; our home that was our home last week is just an empty, sad shell and my new home isn't yet a home - it's a house. And a house that's three hundred miles from where I am right now. It seems further away than it really is, in all senses of the word.

I was actually looking forward to getting to the office today, just to solidify a little bit of normalcy in this currently-uprooted state, which is weirding me out as it is.

My husband has a week and a half of finals left and then we're on the road. I'm just scared that this move is going to be an even bigger deal that I thought it to be, to begin with. And even bigger than it's turned out to be so far, which has been unpleasantly surprising.

01 April 2009

The Ultimate FML

I haven't posted much over the past few days, primarily due to the fact that I've had nothing but FML moments; one on top of another.

I'll backdate to Sunday night. I'm getting a cold. Or I have a cold. I'm not really quite sure what stage it's in right now, other than miserable sneezing and a nose that runneth over. Jane's got a little bit of the same thing. I'm always, always that one who gets that last cold right at the ass-end of cold-season. Right when the weather's breaking and the sun is shining. I can never fully enjoy the first few weeks of the Vernal Equinox because I'm usually laid out on the sofa for it.

Sunday night approaches and I'm stoked about getting to bed early. The husband's working a long weekend, Jane's relatively calm (for a seventeen month-old) and I can just tell she's going to go out like a light. I'm sipping a steaming cup of tea, awaiting bedtime. For the both of us.

Eight-thirty rolls around and she's half-asleep. I am, too, for that matter. I, happily, place her in her crib, cover her curled-up little body with her afghan and tiptoe off to my awaiting bed. Smiling, I crawl in, so content, despite the fact that I'm not feeling well and I doze off probably within minutes.

It's amazing that people talk about the "calm before the storm". Things had been going so unnaturally right for weeks and months up until this point that I was almost beginning to question where the fuck up was going to occur. Things had been so pleasantly placid, just swimming right along with all of our moving plans and the massive pay-off of some bills; I couldn't have asked for a better start.

I wake up, around 1:30 AM and practically fall out of my bed, I'm so startled.

There's music absolutely blaring - to the point that it's literally rattling the windows half out of their wooden frames.

I live in a relatively quiet, secluded neighborhood, but alas, as all good things must come to an end, we've most recently had some "questionable folk" move in next door. Need I say that this is even more of an incentive to be moving away, as if being one-half mile to the beach isn't incentive enough. It's been nothing but moderate chaos for the past few weeks, since these people moved in.

I've seen these people (with children, mind you) on their back and front porches all hours of the night and day, barbecuing, drinking, smoking; generally being irresponsible and disruptive. Not to mention, poor examples for their young children. People come and go all hours of the night, in and out of the home at fifteen minute increments. The imagination doesn't need to stretch too far to imagine what's going on in that hellhole.

I digress, as I always do.

This night, in particular, was really horrible. I made several attempts to get back to sleep, but it seemed that each time my eyes began to close and I began to drift off, the music would thud back on in the house next door, and I'd be startled awake, once again. This went on for about another hour and I decided to just get up out of bed, sneak outside and have a cigarette. I was awake, anyway. Why the hell not.

The moment I set foot on my back porch (which is relatively shielded from the neighbor's view), all I could smell was pot smoke. Like, really. With kids in the house. A gigantic drinking, binging, smoking party with children in the house. I've seen these kids; they probably range from eight months to about three years old. There are four of them. I saw them earlier that night, at the house, playing in the dirt. I was enraged. Disgusted. Appalled that these people not only had the cojones to disrupt the peace of the neighborhood at 3 AM, but to do it in front of children. There's all sorts of fighting, screaming going on; hooting, hollering and laughing.

I did what any annoying citizen would do.

I phoned in a complaint to the local police department. FML. The conclusion to this particular matter will follow.

Monday, I make the attempt to set up my utilities at my new house and find out that there are massive problems with procuring the utilities, to the error of the current owner. I try to make contact with the woman, and she's on a business trip for the next two weeks, unreachable. I'm moving in three weeks. FML. I still can't get ahold of the woman.

Tuesday rolls around. My husband and I awaken, only to find that his ridiculously over-priced windshield (for an SUV) has been busted. In our own driveway. Refer to the first occurring incident. Gee, wonder who did that. FML.

Tuesday, revisited: My paycheck, in an error by my workplace, isn't direct deposited on the day it should have been, and due to auto-drafts on my checking account, I am overdrawn by $210 dollars. FML. FML. FML.

Today. Oh, for the love of God, today. After dealing with my insurance company on the phone all morning to file a claim and set up service to have the windshield replaced (not repaired, replaced), I get a call from my husband, who tells me to get back on the phone with the insurance company.

He was rear-ended in the parking lot at school.

F my Effing L.

28 March 2009

Not Gonna Write You A Love Song

But I will tell you a love story.

No, it's not my own; however, if any of you are interested, I'll be more than willing to expound on that topic.

What I would like to talk about today are my parents. Two of the most amazing human beings I've ever had the fortune to have in my life. I believe it. I've heard others say it. Friends of theirs. Family. Friends of mine. These two people are two of the brightest areas in my life and they always have been.

My parents, we'll call them Pat and Dolly, will be married twenty-nine years in a few short weeks. Together, including dating; just about thirty-three years.

Pat and Dolly met on a blind date, oddly enough, right around 1976. It was a good year. My father had been back from Vietnam for a few years and my mother spent her time taking road trips with her friends. My father had just finished his business degree in college and was a single man, living with friends. One fateful night, my father's best friend had a blind-date with a woman who happened to be my mother's cousin. The two (my mother's cousin and her respective date) were a bit nervous regarding the whole ordeal, so they invited respective friends, being my mother and my father, on their date, so as to change the blind-date to a double blind-date. Isn't there something about a double-blind in poker? Off topic, yes, I know; I don't play poker, so I wouldn't know, but it sounds vaguely familiar.

Regardless. The four meet at a local bar in Scranton (where I originally hail from; home of The Office) and my mother's cousin and father's friend did not hit it off, not by a long shot. They actually ended up arguing and storming off. This left my mother and father to clean up the mess. Two individuals, who had never even spoken a word to one another, not even on the telephone, sat in the bar, alone and probably quite uncomfortable. At least, I'd be, had it been me.

They ended up having a great time. They drank and danced (probably to Steely Dan) and enjoyed one another's company for the remainder of the evening. Where the two others had ended up, Lord only knows. At this point, after a few hours, they only had eyes for one another. According to my father, as he dropped her off at home that evening, he asked my mother if she believed in "love at first sight". My mother proceeded to say "yes" and then threw up in the bushes.

They dated for a few years and eventually got married. Three years later, I came along. Six after that, my brother.

27 March 2009

"Re-Recessionization", As In Where's The Bottom?

Google, one of the largest search engines on the Internet (Internets - as good 'ol GW would say) is currently laying off around 200 workers, which, in the grand scheme of all of Google's employees, is probably not too much, but for a Fortune 500 company with stock prices at nearly $347.50 per share, it's a "big deal". According to MSNBC.com, there are approximately 20,200 workers; therefore, this is only affecting 1% of employees worldwide. $347.50 a share for a piece of Google is pretty pricey, especially compared to the illustrious CitiBank stock, where, at a low this year was performing around $2.50 a share (yes, that's two dollars and fifty cents) and is now at approximately $2.66 a share.

Why bother laying off only two hundred workers when it's barely going to put a dent in retained earnings, on a large scale?

At this point, with the economy in the condition that it's in, you need to ask yourself (or Google, for that matter), if the layoff is completely necessary, or if it's being done as "compensation" to show that some of these higher-earning companies are still "suffering", just as the smaller companies are.

Yes, as the automotive companies, financial industry and newspapers take their respective hits, illustrious old Google is rolling with the punches, taking their medicine and laying off (with possible recall, mind you) one percent of their employees.

The employees that were laid off, reportedly, weren't even higher-earning positions, they were smaller positions, such as trainers, outside contractors and excess marketeers. The two hundred jobs that were sacrificed could have potentially been saved had the decision-makers of this conundrum decided to consolidate these positions and lay off a few higher-earning execs instead. Doesn't sound like too much of a burden to me.

Then again, a burden in the hand is worth a slew of Google stock shares. At least from their perspective.

Once again, Corporate America is at its game of trampling upon the smaller business, the smaller worker and working-class America itself.

The point of this post?

Just my opinion: I'm no economic analyst and I'm no representative of our great financial system.


If Google is laying off miniscule-paying positions to take their role in the Recession, you know the bottom's got to be near soon. They simply wouldn't pull this stunt otherwise.

Oh, To Be An Irrational Homophobe.

I'm generally tolerant of pretty much everyone. I don't bias myself against certain types of people and I certainly don't prejudice against cultural groups. Assholes don't have colors, ethnicities or sexual preferences. If you're an asshole, you're an asshole; the universal quintessence of douchebag, speaking the universal language of parochialism.

I can't stand prejudice of any kind. It drives us, as people, back a few centuries in the progression of humanity. And by humanity, I mean love, tolerance, virtue and peace. Humility.

I would honestly say, above all, something I despise the most are people that are of the homophobic persuasion.

I just. don't. get it.

Despite what some biblical scholars say, I don't think homosexuality is a choice. It's a way of being, it's a state of mind and it's preference. It's none of my business or my place to judge whether you're a chick that wants to be with a chick, or if you're a dick that wants to be with a dick. To be quite frank, there's nothing wrong with it. I support gay marriage. I support the same healthcare benefits that are "entitled" to heterosexual couples. Why should a homosexual couple be treated any differently, especially by the government? Are they not oppressed enough by large percentage of society in general?

I know several people, unfortunately, that are just positively frightened at the prospect of a same-sex, gay individual habitating their airspace. Ridick, much?

Why must we be such subjectively-abundant, societal retards?

Christ on a cracker, guys. Spread the peace. Accept people for who they are, not what you think they should be in your "perfect world".

There's no such thing for now.

It's something to work toward, but it's never going to happen if people aren't willing to let their Shangri-la "ideals" and their bigotry go.