The Inner Rantings of a Disillusioned Never-Been

Why You Should NEVER Go to DMV Late Night

Not that I've had particularly negative experiences with NJ-DMV (er, MVS . . . short for "Motor Vehicle Services") but yesterday was just icky. Too many people. . . and there was nowhere to GO that didn't have another body or 4 crammed into the space. It had my claustrophobia on red-alert. *shudder*

Then, of course, there's the fact that DMV is still stuck in the Stone Age. They must have their reasons for only accepting cash or cheques, but if you work in Newark (as I do) you do NOT carry cash around with you for fear of muggings.

OK, fine, this I can deal with and I really didn't have a big problem or a long wait. . . except to get to the Information Desk, but even that was only 10 or so minutes. But the thing that irked me is that it's practically impossible to get any information about how you're able to pay until you get to the cashier. This didn't make me happy. But, what did make me happy was the courtesy I was shown by the cashier. She saved my information, told me how much it would be and said I could get right back in line when I got back from the ATM - barely a 30-second drive away.

Now, the reason this was exceptional is that #1 - it was the "late night" (which means DMV is open until 7:30pm, rather than closing at 4:30pm), #2 - it was 6:30pm and she looked tired enough to have been there at 7:30am to open and #3 - typically counter-people who've been dealing with the mob-scenes like the one at DMV last night are cranky and rude. . . she was courteous and joky . . . whoa!

So, I now have my brand-new NJ Drivers' License. . . I opted for the more costly photo ID because of what happened to my Valrie and I after we'd braved the DMV late-night . . .

Valrie and I are both brunette and slight of frame. We also happen to have really good genes. Genes that are so good, in fact, that our waitress at Applebee's didn't start the drink list with alcohol. She started with Root Beer. After we put our orders in, Valrie and I looked at each other and started to giggle. . . she said it was the first time she was out to dinner and the drink list didn't start out with beer.

I said that things like that were the reason I NEED a photo ID, cost be damned.

All-in-all, I had a pleasant evening and managed to pick up dinner ingredients, so Matt can have real food when he comes over tonight, as opposed to the Lizzy Wednesday Weeknight Special . . . which basically means anything in a can, usually soup, and it's usually lukewarm.

In other news, tonight is supposed to be a prime Mars-watching night, so I'm off to the Observatory.

OK, perhaps I'm on a leather kick right now, so sue me.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but is this not almost EXACTLY the Xena under-dress?



If I had $140 to blow on a leather minidress like that, I'd probably have the money to hire Lucy Lawless's personal trainer as well. . . so I could tone up my legs like hers and actually look the way I want to in something like that.

And maybe, just maybe, I'd be able to wear knee-high boots.

I have calf-envy.

My calves will never fit into boots like these no matter how hard I work. This is a painful fact of genetics. I get terribly jealous and angry when I see pretty things like these and know I can't have them myself.

It hurts for it to be boot-season soon and not be able to look at them. *growl*

Rainy days and Mondays. . .

Rainy days and Mondays may bring me down, but going to the gym makes sure I'm all up again. I have always enjoyed exercise. . .it clears my head like nothing else can.

I am still desperately bored at work, but my sister called (just to talk. . . poor kid) so it saved me from eye-burn.

Yes. "Eye-burn". . . it's like screen-burn except we're talking about your peepers here. I've been getting that a lot lately, so it's my suspicion that it's past time for new glasses. Of course, my insurance will pay for new glasses OR new contacts. I prefer the contacts.

So, I have to find a way around it. . . and, of course, I have. I feel terribly clever, although I'm not, since people have probably been doing this for years, but I found a way to have both new glasses AND new contacts. AND not pay an arm and a leg for them.

I just have to find the money for it and I'm set.

WEEKEND

OK, I had a weekend, for once. I went to the gym on Saturday morning, then I went to the Museum. I actually enjoyed myself, because the sun was shining and it wasn't a bitchass still and hot & humid day. . . it was actually very pleasant. I'd wanted to stay in the City longer, but without company I started to get a little lonesome.

When I got home, I walked to the grocery store to buy bread, cheese and cream for homemade macaroni & cheese. I forgot to season it before I baked it, but it came out OK anyway. . . I needed some "comfort food" because I was tired, cranky and, yes, lonesome.

Matt came over and we had ourselves a talk which cleared the air between us and got my stress and anxiety out of my system.

We've decided that I need to change my job and found one I know that I'd enjoy. . . he's even going to help me rework my resume and help me write a cover letter.

Even if I get a rejection note, I'll at least have tried to get the job. . . and it doesn't mean I have to stop looking.

I think that might help me keep my head up at the present job. . . the search for something better will become the light at the end of the tunnel.

I hate it when my column spacing gets all out of whack. . .

I took down the Doonesbury strip because it was throwing my delicately balanced, aesthetically gimpy template all out of whack and I just can't have that.

Anyway. . . I'm hoping the predicted rain will fall tonight and just wash everything away. I feel crappy, so I'm not sure if I'm going to go to the Museum like I told my dad I was going to. I guess I'll just see how I feel after my workout tomorrow morning.

The gym opens at 8am.

In the event that you hadn't noticed, I am a self-absorbed attention whore.

I have had nothing positive to say to many of my nearest and dearest for quite some time because I am letting my attitude dictate my circumstances. But I am having trouble not letting that happen.

I am miserable at my job but I can't afford to quit. I'm having trouble making ends meet and keeping my apartment in order because I feel so disordered inside. I feel sick and run-down all the time because I'm stressed out over things at work, things on my commute and my lack of financial stability.

I'm sick and tired of this pattern I've slipped into, but I'm having trouble getting out of the slip. If I can't make things better, however, I will keep getting more and more irritable and grouchy and selfish. . . and I HATE being like that.

This is one time I wish I had Matt's sense of direction and purpose. . . and his ability to dream about the future.

I used to have dreams, but I let all the negative circumstances in my life crush them into dust. I am miserable and angry at myself for letting that happen, but it has made me more afraid than ever to let myself dream at all. I don't want to fail in my attempts, because that means too many frightening things to me. Every day it gets harder and harder to get up and out to the job. Every day it gets harder and harder to get through the workday without feeling like it's just something to pass the time between now and the day I die. . . so why bother to dream? It doesn't make things any better.

Good Day Sunshine!

Even though it's humid (and it's supposed to get worse tomorrow) I like it when the sun's out. I feel more energetic and alive than I normally do. . . and it makes me want to stay outdoors like I'm 5-years-old all over again.

But I can't because I'm a cubicle-dwelling NERD.

No, let me rephrase that. . . I'm a cubicle-dwelling GEEK. Much better. I don't have the tech-smarts to be a nerd. Yet. If I spend much more time inside, however, I'm sure I will.

I'm already translucent and the closest I get to tan is flesh-toned. Yes, I suppose I could go for a walk in the middle of the day, but if you've never been to Newark (NJ), you don't understand why this is impossible. Or, at least, highly improbable. You see, it's kind of like walking through the bad part of town; you don't want to be there, so you mind your business and act like you know exactly where you want to be . . . and you're in a terrible rush to get there. That gets me to and from the train station without being eaten alive. Anything else is asking for a miracle.

I've been invited to go to the beach with Matt after Labor Day. . . I'd love to go, but I don't think I'll be able to do it. It would really recharge my batteries and make the stretch of time from now until Thanksgiving easier to handle, but, well, I don't know. My schedule may be slow right now, but it's bound to pick up soon and I need the overtime pay.

S-L-O-W Work Day Today

Yeah, you read that correctly. I tapped out the spelling because it's S-L-O-W here today.

Oh yes, this is the exciting and challenging world of legal publishing. . . and it's more boring than watching paint dry on days when there's nothing to do but wait.

I picked the perfect publications with the perfect schedules for slacking time. I'm a genius. Really. It means my current workload is about 80% lower than my teammates' workloads, although I work on more of the difficult and challenging publications. I'm a training and informational resource, sort of, but many of my responsibilities are continuously taken away from me. . . which frustrates me and makes me feel useless. And it only serves to make me loathe my job that much more.

Currently, I complain about the office temperature because I feel a touch on the bronchitis-y side of things. Next week, I'm sure, I'll be complaining about something else that has nothing to do with my job. . .why? Because I'm bored and I can.

Last week, things were so slow, I was playing solitaire. On my desk. With actual cards. Yes, I was that bored. Next month, I'm sure that things will be interesting, since we'll be down one manager and it's the start of the 4th quarter. But, with no new projects or training possibilities on the horizon, I don't think I'll keep myself occupied for long.

I need a hobby. Other than complaining.

Why you should always bail before the bouquet toss. . .

- nobody gets a chance to tease you about when they're gonna dance at your wedding
- you don't look silly while you're not trying to catch the damn thing
- the little kids at the party get to run around without the danger of being trampled by old maids in heels
- you get back to the hotel room for some peace and quiet

Overall, I enjoyed myself this weekend. Matt has posted the pictures on his blog to prove it.

Friday was fun. . . I was SO happy that I didn't have to go into the office, and I got to sleep in, and I found out I enjoy working out in the mornings much more than I do in the afternoons. I managed to pack everything I needed (dresses, shoes, makeup, PJ's, toiletries, etc.) into fewer than 5 bags, and I was ready to go when Matt got to my apartment.

We made pretty good time out to PA, checked into the hotel, and went exploring before we had to go back to the room, change and get to the rehearsal dinner. The restaurant was very pretty. The service, on the other hand, wasn't so pretty. And, for a place that billed itself as a "wine bar" it had a DAMN short wine list. . . no pinot grigio, which isn't incredibly rare, but they did have chardonnay. I don't like chardonnay. This one wasn't so bad, but, you don't advertise a place as a "wine bar" and not be able to serve a pinot grigio.

Anyway, the food wasn't very good. The service was dreadful. And I got a little sick from something I ate, so I sent Matt running out to the grocery store the next day for some medicine.

Saturday morning, I had my bathing suit on because Matt promised I could go swimming after breakfast. Matt isn't a polar bear like me, but the indoor pool wasn't really that cold. I would have much preferred the outdoor pool, but I think he's a little self-conscious about going outdoors without a shirt just yet. Oh well. I had fun splashing around and showing off all the strokes I can do. . . and it was a fun way to spend half an hour.

On our way back to the room, we ran into his brother, sister-in-law and neice . . . all smiles and anticipation for the wedding at 3pm. Back upstairs, shower & rinse out the suit . . . and hustle into some dry clothes to sit and wait until I get the "go"-sign to get ready for the wedding. I got into my dress no problem. Shoes and stockings on, no runs. Good.

Then I got to doing my hair. I wanted to do it in this kind of elaborate cross between an upside-down French braid and a bun. . .it didnt' cooperate and I still needed to put on makeup, so I went with a French twist, with an ornamental chopstick stuck in for some flair. Then I hit the old makeup routine. . . and recruited Matt to hold a towel as a dropcloth so I could do my pressed-powder thing, grabbed my purse and we're off to check in with his sister-in-law and the baby.

On our way to the church, I sat in the back and taught the baby how to "beep" my nose (thanks Dittles) and sang silly songs to her until we stopped.

My only comment on the ceremony:
For once, this was a wedding service that didn't seem to be too long or too short, and it didn't make me angry. (You can go ask Juno for why a wedding service would seem too short or would make me angry.)

OK, we're out of the service by 4pm. . . the wedding party exits the church by 4:30pm. . . which means we still have about an hour and a half to kill before the party starts. . . so, we went to Wal*Mart. Of course, on the way there, it started to POUR. I will say it was fortunate that the weather had the decency to hold off its worst until we were in the car, but it was scary for the baby, mainly because it was a good old-fashioned thunderstorm and also because her mom doesn't like storms, either. I managed to amuse her with my little rendition of the Eensy-Weensy Spider (yes, I know most people sing Itsy-Bitsy, but those are such hard consonants that I didn't want to upset her any more) and we looked at a picture book, and as the rain stopped, she dropped off to sleep.

We got back to the room, rested a little (I wasn't feeling so good) and hopped the "party bus" for the short ride to the reception hall . . . at the next hotel over. I bonded with the flower girl (Matt's 1st-cousin once removed) by telling her about when I was a flower girl for my Aunt, I had a green dress. She was so excited when she told her mom. . . "mom, guess what, when she was a little girl, she had a Green dress" (yeah, you had to be there, or you have to know this little girl. . . she's a little younger than I was when I was a flower girl, but we treated it with the same gravity and excitement)

As we mulled around the cocktail hour, I got a martini (they actually know how to make those in PA) which, surprisingly, settled my stomach, and waited to be called into the banquet room. We were 2 spots shy at our table, so, Matt drank the leftover champagne from the champagne toast. I don't like champagne, but the glasses all had strawberries on them, so I drank as much as I could and ate my strawberry.

The service at the reception was positively exceptional. Of course, the groom (Matt's cousin) is the manager or something, so it was bound to be MUCH better than the evening before. . . and, of course, the moment I'd been eagerly anticipating since Matt gave me the meal choices . . . my filet mignon. Rare.

The only time I will eat a steak rare is if it's filet. It's a sin to eat it any other way. The meal was lovely, the wine was fantastic and Matt and I managed to dance for a little bit before he decided he was too drunk.

Although we left early, I had a GREAT time. . . plus I had the next day to look forward to - Matt took me to Philly for a real Philly cheesesteak. Mmmmm. Yummy, greasy, oniony goodness.

I had a VERY full weekend (not to mention a VERY full tummy) and look forward to spending more fun times like this soon. =)

Blackouts and Luck

I was lucky yesterday.

The power went out in NYC at 4pm. At that time, I was on the last train out of Newark-Penn Station (NJ). . . on my usual train, which had experienced some delays on its way into Newark, but it got through just fine.

When I got home and turned on the TV, I tried to find out how many NJ counties were affected by the failure of the Niagra-Mohawk power grid, but, since nobody outside of NJ knows ANYTHING about NJ (something I want to try to change), I couldn't.

What I did find out was that 5 Northern counties hadn't any power for quite some time and a state of emergency had been declared there.

They're still not sure what happened, but it wasn't terrorism. I never suspected it was. . . of course, when negative things happen, I function just enough to get myself where I need to go. In this case, I was on the train headed for home. I got there, no problem. I had power. Good. I had cable. Also good. I had water and enough liquids to get through the night. Even better. So I slept OK.

I went to the gym this morning and heard some more stories - people's family members calling in a panic, spouses who couldn't get home for 3 hours, etc., but everyone was pretty calm. It'll take the next day or so to get everything back to "normal", but, we'll do it.

As grisly as it sounds, if it hadn't been for Tuesday, September 11, 2001, the NY-metro area would not have had its emergency management crews so finely tuned that they could evacuate subway trains full of people, elevators, and buildings. If something good always comes from a tragedy, this is one good thing that came out of that one. I think it also boosts confidence in our local governments' abilities to handle greater emergencies and, should something as devastating as that day happen again, we will continue to have confidence that our emergency services will handle it appropriately, quickly and professionally.

I'm fine. Not even shaken. But, if the office was closed today, I want my floating holiday back.

Sushi Craving SATISFIED

Matt took me for sushi last night. . . both because he owed it to me for getting waxed (arms, legs, eyebrows & upper lip) and because I asked nicely.

This is a big accomplishment for him, considering he doesn't really go in for fish. But, after reassuring him that the restaurant did serve other food (they have a full menu of Asian delights), we set out for this little hole-in-the-wall place, just down the street from my apartment.

We were seated right away (always a plus when you're "starving"), and as I pored over the sushi menu, giving it a running commentary of "no, don't like that, don't eat that, no. . . that's right" before ordering a "rainbow roll" (avocado, salmon, tuna and yellowtail) and a sweet potato roll (not exactly tempura, not mushy like for Thanksgiving, sweet and firm . . . yummy!) and he ordered a cucumber roll and a chicken teryaki . . . which came with miso soup (my favorite! yummy-yummy!) and rice on the side. Mmmmm. We had a good meal. PLUS, I am very proud of Matt because he tried a piece of my rainbow roll. He didn't like it that much, but I think I could get him to enjoy some plain tuna sashimi, for the texture aspect.

Of course, while we were waiting for our food, he was joking with the sushi chef about my knife skills. I don't have lousy knife skills really because I DO know better. . . except when Matt's around. That's when I do all the "Suzy Safety" don'ts - like cut towards myself instead of away. He and the sushi chef had a good laugh over that one. . . and I stand admonished.

Then we went for ice cream. I love going for ice cream with Matt because it's so much fun to read the day's flavors and then change my mind eight times before deciding what I want to get. . . all the while, driving him bonkers because I sound like an eight-year-old. Ice cream is a kids-of-all-ages thing, so if I get a little excited about mine, what's the harm?

Updated links . . . added the Dynamite Diva and Lemon-Fresh Goodness because they "rawk", the Tazzmeister, TJ, the remaining consul in the triumverate (Amy) and the Dynamic Duo.

Nothing much to report . . .yet. I have some news that I want to think out before I post.

I've never seen the movie Tremors, but yesterday's uproar about the new "Blaster" worm reminded me of the commercials I saw. . . and the umpteenth time it played on TBS.

Not that I'm belittling the impact such a nasty bug could cause if it got loose (like this one did), but it was kinda like being in a movie. Or an episode of Star Trek. Yellow alert everybody. . . and then Scotty fixes the problem just in (record) time.

Hopefully those folks hit by this creepy-crawler will be able to download the patch or another virus proofing software system in time to save their hard drives.

Well-read AND Sexy? Nah, never happen. . .

From ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggety beasties and things that go 'bump!' in the night, good Lord deliver us! - Cornish saying

There are certain things one most decidedly should not do while home alone. Reading a creepy novel that's actually a birthday gift for your best friend is one of them. . . I will say, however, that it was well worth the sleeplessness to read, although I should have chosen a less active weekend night to do this.

There are also certain other things from which I'd like to be delivered. . . like telemarketing calls from the local paper. I once told the telemarketer that I wouldn't even wipe my ass with it and she got all indignant. Hey, raise the reading level, don't publish it before it's copyedited and correct all of the grammatical errors contained therein and I might buy it every now and again. Until then, don't bother me.

I just received a telemarketing call from one of the most irritating telemarketers I have ever had the displeasure of dealing with.

FIRST she was chewing something. Whether it was gum, candy or what, I neither know nor care. When I worked inbound phones at "Acme University", I would have been put on probation had I answered the phone while chewing on anything.

SECOND she sounded like Michelle from American Pie, where her voice would go up at the end of each phrase. . . I hung up thinking "this one time, at band camp. . ." and cringing.

THIRD she didn't immediately launch into her pitch. Which was annoying because I had to say "hello?" twice. And I'm at work - my home-office phone forwards the call to the work number after a certain number of rings, so it's especially irritating to have to answer, break into the "shpeil" and inform them that #1 this is an unlisted number and #2 they must put me on their "do not call" list - so it's time-consuming and counter productive.

I know everyone has to earn a living somehow, but they ought to train these jokers better.

Why Humidity Makes Me MISERABLE. . .

August is here in full force, which means the air is like wet cotton and breathing, if you have any type of allergy or asthma, is not a feasible option. I think the brightest thing I did yesterday was go straight home, instead of going to the gym, because I couldn't breathe and I didn't feel well.

After sleeping for almost 12 hours straight, I woke up this morning with a damp feeling in my room and a sinus headache. OK, so it looks like I have to leave the a/c on a higher setting at night, because it's been doubling as a dehumidifier. Turn it down any and I can't breathe.

I'm happily anticipating the temperature change that comes from Fall. . . I'll suffer through the remaining month(s) of ragweed for it.

"Beauty is pain" - Austin Scarlett

After suffering through almost two of the hottest, most miserable weeks of my existence on this dilapidated, albeit beautiful, planet, I had my legs waxed today.

Yes, it was painful. Yes, it was expensive. But it's worth not having to shave for a couple weeks. The only continued pain will be tweezing out (not shaving off) any hairs that remain. . . so that next wax, things will be all ready to go, rather than having to wait for another two weeks and suffer wearing khakis in 90-degree heat, risking all kinds of fun things like, oh, heat exhaustion.

The last place I want to suffer heat exhaustion is Newark. I hate it there.

My next waxing trip will be to wax my eyebrows. And my arms. Although I think that waxing my arms will make them look kind of freakish, they already look freakish with the amount of hair they have already. . . so it's a lose-lose situation. It will also be VERY painful.

If I get my arms waxed, Matt, you owe me sushi.

Food for Thought:

"I've learned from experience that the greater part of our happiness or misery depends on our dispositions and not on our circumstances." - Martha Washington

That's one First Lady I never knew too much about. Now, I just have to read more about her!

CHANGING THE TOPIC: "Wants" vs. "Needs"

I'm sick of brooding, so I'm changing the topic to something frivolous.

I "want" this pair of pajamas:


Surprisingly, though, I'm not nuts about the red. They also come in this soft seafoam green-type color that the catalogue calls "Newport Blue".

HOWEVER, I do not "need" that pair of pajamas. Not right now anyway.

If I purchase said pair of pajamas now, I will not have money for things I need - like food.

So, I can wait a while. Hopefully, they will still be sold at Christmas. Then I can ask my mom to get them for me. Interesting little scheme, eh?

I am TIRED and CRANKY

I am also very, very, very hurt and angry about quite a few things that have happened over the past few months in my personal life. Like fights that I didn't know exactly how I got into, with people who I considered friends. . . I do not have very many friends, so those few I do keep mean a LOT to me, so pettiness and cruelty hurt my feelings like acid seeping into an open paper cut.

I read an excellent summation of (and apology for) this situation today and I almost cried because I feel the same way she does about many of the issues we're all facing. Thank you, Gwen. It really means more than I have words to express.

Second-hand is great for hand-me-downs. . .

. . . but it's COWARDLY and MEAN when it comes to opinions and gossip. And that's all gossip is anyway, right? Second- and third-hand information, that got garbled in the translation.

It's too bad that some people have all the balls in the world when it comes to everything else, but when it comes down to confronting someone about a problem they have with them, they go behind the other person's back to trash, insult and hurt them. Real brave. Real badass. NOT!

If you wanna bring it, do it out in the open and fucking bring it. If you wanna play like a 5th-grader, Fuck off. I'm not in 5th grade anymore and I don't need this shit.

Why not shaving your legs is a BRILLIANT idea in this weather. . .

Yes, BRILLIANT idea. (In case you missed it, since it doesn't translate well into print, I am being SARCASTIC.)

Of all the weeks I could have picked to have my first leg wax, I picked this one. When August set in . . . in full Gulf-Stream humid force.

I have been wearing pants for the past two weeks, patiently growing out my leg hair because the stuff has to be longer than stubble (which I seem to get the same day. . . who says guys are the only ones who get 5-o'clock shadow!) but shorter than a jungle. . . which means you have to stop shaving entirely until it gets to that point. If you don't, you end up with stubble and pain. Oh, and the wax doesn't grab the hairs either, so you're stuck with wax burns and hairy, sticky legs.

Patience had better get me through until Saturday and my leg hair had better be fucking long enough to rip it out then, too, because I'm getting really sick and tired of wearing khakis and I don't have enough pantyhose to make it another week. Plus, it POURED yesterday as I was leaving the office, so I got completely drenched from the ankles to the knees.

I haven't really prayed in over two years, but I was sure thankful that yesterday was a workout day and I thought to bring a change of socks. There's nothing half so icky as walking home in soggy socks. . . unless it's sitting at the Santa Claus show wearing wet corduroy. . .but that's a story best left un-told to the Internet and revealed only to my nearest and dearest. Or else my sister will kill me.

It's not the heat, it's the humidity. . .

I think that's something we all tell ourselves to rationalize our bitching about it being summer.

August is finally upon us, and living in a city on a river combined with working in a city on a river is making the "humidity" factor greatly in my ability to breathe. When the weatherman starts making comments like "it's like being in the Carribean", you know it's BAD out there.

Amidst all the heat and humidity on Saturday, however, I braved the way into Chinatown (NYC) to buy a new cheongsam for the wedding I'll be attending in a week. I found two which would ordinarily run for about $35, but the woman at one shop gave it to me for $30 because she was so willing to sell it and the woman at the other shop gave me the other for $30 because I mentioned I'd purchased one at New Year's from the same shop. Two unique and fancy dresses for $60, where a mall boutique's prices would START at about $150 each. . . I think I got myself a bargain. I'm rather proud of my purchases. An extra $10 got me a new jade heart pendant, so I can keep my good luck. Now I get to find me some shoes to match. . . I'm thinking dyeables, provided they're comfortable. . . and can be dyed robin's egg blue. Which basically means I have until Wednesday to get a pair of shoes, because that's when the dress gets back from the cleaners'.

I'm nervous about that. . . I think it'll be OK, but, you never know. . . *sigh*