Category Archives: Current Events

random stuff and a minor political rant

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I’m a little bit scatter-brained today, so here are a few things that have been floating around in my head:

* You know how I have to take a whole bunch of vitamins because of my gastric bypass? One of them is an iron supplement, which I’m supposed to take at least two hours apart from my other vitamins. (I can’t remember why, something about iron bonding with calcium and then not absorbing either.) As a result, I often forget to take it, and then I get lectured by my doctor when my bloodwork shows that I’m borderline anemic. I now keep my iron pills in my purse so I can take them during the day at work. Today, I reached into my purse to get it, and instead, I ate an antacid. Which, ok, I suppose an extra antacid won’t hurt me, but to be consciously thinking of my iron pill, and then to grab (and chew!) a Rolaids before I realized that “oops, that wasn’t what I was going for”? That’s a little weird.

* I can’t figure out if I’m coming down with a cold (which seems entirely likely) or if it’s PMS (which is not just likely, but a flat-out fact), but my equilibrium seems off today. I’ve had to walk down the stairs in my office building twice this morning, and both times I got these weird dizzy spells and felt like I was going to fall. I have a tendency to fall down at unfortunate times anyway, but I really don’t want to fall on the stairs at work, because (a) ouch, (b) I already have a bad knee and don’t need to make it worse, and (c) how embarassing is it to fall down in front of your co-workers? I kept a death-grip on the handrail, so I didn’t fall. But I think I’m taking the elevator for the rest of the day, just in case.

* Today is Kris’s first day at her new job. I keep wanting to call her and check in to see how she’s doing, but I think that’s probably a bad idea. I’m just so excited for her.

* There’s a girl I work with, who’s very tall, thin and pretty. She’s one of those Northwest granola types who never wears a speck of make-up, but still manages to like she could be a model. And she’s nice, so I can’t even dislike her. Today I happened to be in the ladies room at the same time as her, and she ripped a huge fart. This made me inexplicably happy. I guess it was just the realization that she isn’t one hundred percent perfect. (Yes, I’m a freak.)

* On a more serious note, this makes me sad for my home state. I guess the upshot is that girls with unwanted pregnancies in Mississippi are going to have to make a little road trip to get their abortions. But for pete’s sake, there was only one abortion clinic in the whole state to begin with. And you know what? I know exactly where it is, because it was on my route home from high school, and I remember the protesters out there with their signs almost every afternoon. My mom used to laugh at the hypocrisy, that they were never out there protesting when the weather was bad.

There was a girl at my high school who lived with her grandparents, and they were both radical pro-lifers. She was too, I suppose because you buy into your role models’ propaganda when you’re young and impressionable. She tried to convince our entire ninth grade gym class that birth control pills were evil because they acted as an abortive device. (WTF?) I remember going to her house one day after school, and there was a message on the answering machine for her: “Hi sweetie, it’s Gramps. Grandma got arrested again this afternoon, so I’ll be a little late while I go downtown to bail her out.” She shrugged it off and said that something like that happened at least a couple of times every month, and acted like it was no big deal.

I have no idea why all of that came back to me today, I haven’t seen that girl in probably fifteen years. Reading that article just made me wonder if her grandparents were still around, because I imagine this would’ve been a happy day for them.

I also remember that abortion clinic because it was next door to a motel where one of my brother’s friends committed suicide. That was in 1995. On the rare occasions that I visit my hometown, I usually make a point of avoiding that particular intersection. But you can see the motel from the freeway, so I can never really avoid it completely. It always reminds me of his mother, who was a very sweet lady (and a friend of my mom’s). It’s been eleven years and she has never recovered from the loss of her son. I guess you don’t bounce back from something like that.

And that, folks, is the bizarre stream-of-consciousness that makes up my brain today. Sorry to end on a bit of a downer note, but there you have it.

I'm going to start commuting via canoe

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The weather lately? Sucks big time. I’ve pretty much gotten used to Seattle’s rainy winters during the last 4 1/2 years that I’ve lived here, but lately it is outta control. We’re setting records, and pretty much everywhere around us is in a flood watch or warning state. This morning, the main road that I use to get to work was flooded, so I had to go on a 8-mile detour. It’s worth noting that I only live 11 miles from where I work in the first place. It took me over an hour to get here. Good times. Thank the lord in heaven for my iPod and its FM adapter.

In other news, I have five days left of my twenties. Holy sh*t. I’m trying to let that information sink in, and I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around it. I keep saying the number in my head. Thirty. 30. Three-zero. I know it’s not really that big a deal in the grand scheme of things, but it feels really strange to think about it.

And on the subject of my birthday, this weekend we’re having sort of a little party/shindig thang. My friend Linda just turned 30 last Saturday (the 7th), so we decided to combine our parties into one big 30th birthday bash for both of us. We met up last Friday to try to pick a venue. That actually took a lot longer than it should have, but we had a very specific requirements list. My number one requirement: the bar must have vodka. (Translation: a big fat NO on the wine bar Linda picked out, which literally only serves beer & wine. Why bother?) Linda’s main requirements were that it be cheap (which I fully supported) and that there was some activity to do other than sit around a table and drink all night. Oooookay. That last part was the challenge. We thought about pool halls, dance clubs, karaoke, and finally settled on bowling. I know that sounds sort of white trash and sad, but here’s the thing: Saturday night is X-Bowling, which is all dark with neon, blacklights and loud dance music. It’s fun in a cheesy “aren’t we too old for this?” kind of way. Plus they have a few pool tables – and since we all know that I suck at bowling, that will probably be my activity of choice. (For the record, Linda used to be in a bowling league, and owns her own ball & shoes. She’s pretty hardcore. I will not bowl with her, for I know she will kick my ass.) They also have a relatively nice bar, with a good selection, and which is in its own separate room away from the loud music. Oh, and the whole place is smoke-free! Bonus points!

So there you go. I’m sure there will be many drunk photos, just wait & see.

random stuff, part 336

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Aaaand once again, the elusive full-time position at the Giant Software Company slips through my fingers. I never even got a real interview on this one, just an email letting me know that they already hired someone. Fine, ho-hum, whatevah. Meanwhile, there have been several possibilities that have started cropping up for contract jobs at the Giant Software Company, and those might turn out to be promising. My little 100-day hiatus is coming to an end, boo-hoo. What that means is that I can officially start looking for jobs now because I’ll be able to work there for another year starting the Monday after Thanksgiving, and it’d be nice to have something set up and ready to go as soon as I’m eligible to start working there again. So, it’s good to get the respective balls rolling now. (Hee-hee, I said “balls”.)

Oh, that reminds me, did I mention that Dave and I are going to New York for Thanksgiving? My sister (occasional commenter on this here bloggy thing) lives there, so my whole family is going to meet up for a few days. We’re staying at home for Christmas, so this is kind of our one big family holiday gathering for the year. Dave’s never been to NYC before, so I imagine we’ll be doing lots of touristy stuff. I’m really looking forward to it.

In other news, Dave and I saw a Henry Rollins spoken word show last night. Happy sigh. I love that man. (I mean Henry – but Dave too, obviously.) I believe this is the 5th one of his shows I’ve seen. It was great, but I won’t try to recreate any of his stories for you here because it just wouldn’t work and wouldn’t be funny at all. However, if he ever passes through your town, you really should go see him. You won’t regret the money you spent on the ticket, I promise.

Also, as of Tuesday, Dave and I have officially been married for 6 months. And I have to say, besides the whole thing with my job ending suddenly, the depression of unemployment, and worrying endlessly about money because I have no income and feel like a big fat leech since I’m not contributing anything to the household other than doing dishes, laundry and all that insanely boring 1950’s housewife bullsh*t, this has been the happiest 6 months of my life. 🙂 Love you, baby.

have you missed these fascinating little job updates?

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First off, if any of you play CD’s or DVD’s on your computers, you better make sure that they aren’t produced by Sony. This article is pretty scary. Not surprising, really, but it makes me suddenly grateful that the only CD’s I’ve bought over the past year have been through iTunes.

New topic: I had a very strange phone interview last week. It’s basically almost the exact same job that I interviewed for a couple of months ago, but in a different department. The fact that this job is a different team at the same company is a good thing, because it means that there’s little to no risk that I’ll end up sitting in any meetings with Dave’s ex-wife. Not that that really intimidated me about the last job – I mean, hello, I consider myself to be the big winner of that situation – but it could’ve been awkward. Anyway, this new job is totally unrelated to her little group, so yay. The HR recruiter lady called me, and I had been told that the interview was going to be about 45-50 minutes long, but it was only maybe 10 minutes at the most. She told me that she talked to the recruiter for the other job that I interviewed for, and asked me if there was anything I would’ve done differently in that interview process. I said yes, that I felt like I did pretty well through the first few interviews, but I hadn’t been prepared for how long a day it was going to be, and that by the last couple of interviews, I felt like I was just saying “I don’t know” to a lot of the questions because I was brain-dead. She confirmed that I had done well at the beginning of the day, and that most of the people I interviewed with had recommended that they hire me, but that I “sort of fell apart in the last two interviews.” I was actually grateful to hear that, because that was what I suspected all along, and it’s the most feedback that I’ve gotten yet. And considering that one of those last two interviews that I blew was with the woman who would’ve been my boss, it makes sense that I didn’t get the job. Anyway, she said for me to send her some of my writing samples, and I guess that means that I’m going to get another one of those hellish all-day in-person interviews. I’ll find out soon enough one way or the other. But I suppose I can deal with another Hell Day, since now I know where I went wrong last time. And because this is another full-time job with benefits, which would be absolutely lovely.

I don't think this is what the Velvet Underground had in mind when they said "hey honey, take a walk on the wild side"

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I learned on Saturday that I married a liar. Dave and I went for a hike at a nature preserve near our house, and he told me that the trail was about 3 miles long. Now, I know that 3 miles may not seem like much to some of you (like my cousin Miss Triathlon), but I am a wuss, and an out-of-shape wuss at that. So three miles in hilly, rough terrain with my bad knee (and dodging enormous piles o’ poop the whole time, because apparently this is also a trail where a lot of people go horseback riding) seemed like a lot. But it’s been a while since I’ve worked out, so I knew that I needed it, and it seemed do-able. I found out over halfway through it that Dave was full of crap, and the trail was actually FIVE miles long. I don’t know that I’ve ever hiked 5 miles in my life. I wasn’t prepared for that kind of distance, I didn’t even bring a bottle of water with me. And lord, the pain I was in afterward. I couldn’t walk up and down the stairs of our house without making little whiny “ow” noises. I’m proud of myself now for having survived, but I doubt I’ll be doing that again anytime soon.

In “this is another reason why I don’t like living in the boonies” news, our local weekly newspaper had a cover story this week about the fact that there have been several cougar sightings in our area recently. Holy sh*t. One anecdote:

On September 17, also near Duvall, a woman reported she was out working in her flowerbeds hwen six deer came into the yard. A cougar ran right past her chasing them.

The article has a reference to a website that tells you what to do in case you encounter a cougar. Do you know what to do if you see a cougar? Me neither. But I do now. Here’s a partial list of action items, complete with my commentary in italics:

* Stop, stand tall and don’t run. Pick up small children immediately. Running and rapid movements may trigger an attack. Remember, a cougar’s instinct is to chase. [Ok, this makes sense, I’m with them so far.]
* Face the cougar, talk to it firmly and slowly back away. Always leave the animal an escape route. [You want me to talk to it? Really? And forget the cougar’s escape route, what about mine?]
* Try to appear larger than the cougar by getting above it. (e.g., stepping up onto a stump). If wearing a jacket, hold it open to further increase your size. [Right. Talk to it and hold my jacket open so I look thoroughly insane, and scare the cougar off that way. Makes sense.]
* Do not take your eyes off the animal or turn your back. [Um, duh??]
* If the animal does not flee and shows signs of aggression (crouches with ears back, teeth bared, hissing, tail twitching, and hind feet pumping in preparation to jump), be more assertive. [Sure thing, right after I poop my pants.] Shout, wave your arms and throw rocks. The idea is to convince the cougar that you are not prey, but a potential danger. [This reminds me of a rottweiler that almost attacked me when I was in high school. I did, in fact, jump toward it screaming, and the dog stopped dead in his tracks and stared at me like I was crazy. So I guess that would work.]

So, this one little article sent me into a tailspin of worry, where I started imagining worst-case scenarios of what I would do if I found a cougar in our yard. I mean, I freaked out last night because I found a raccoon in our kitchen. (Apparently he likes cat food.) But a cougar? I have no idea how to deal with that. And then I start to think that maybe we need to have a gun for these wild kingdom-esque situations. The thing is, I am about as anti-gun a person as you’ll ever meet. I have never touched a gun in my life. In seventh grade, they made all of us take a “hunter’s education” class, because that’s what happens when you grow up in a red state, and part of the class involved going to a shooting range and learning how to fire a gun. I got my mom to write me a note to excuse me from the class because it was against my beliefs. That’s how anti-gun I was when I was 12 years old, so imagine what I’m like now. Yeah. But seriously, if it comes down to a cougar versus my cats, or God forbid, a cougar versus our as-yet-unconceived child? I’d totally be willing to use a gun, in a heartbeat. So now I have to make a decision about that. And the worry spiral continues. Fun! You know, I really like this house and all, but sometimes I miss apartment/city life. Oy.

Remind me again why I'm a cat person?

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The scene: our house, this morning. Dave left for work, and less than 5 minutes later, I went to take a shower. I took my clothes off, then I heard something strange. One of our cats, Beaumont (the big, brave boy hunter cat), was yowling a very distinct meow. It was sort of a muffled sound, and one that I have come to know well; it loosely translates to, “Quick! Come see this neat dead thing that I’m carrying in my mouth and want to give you as a gift!” Since I was alone in the house, I went to see what was up. This was very, very stupid of me. As I started to come down the stairs, Beaumont flew past me with – yep, I guessed it – some tiny thing with feet sticking out of his mouth. I screamed, because no matter how many times this happens, I am still not used to it; and even though Dave hates it when I scream, I cannot help it. (See, honey? I really don’t do it for attention, I even do it when I’m alone in the house!) Beaumont ran into my office and dropped off his “gift,” which turned out to be a teeny tiny bird, which was not so much dead as it was still frantically fluttering around and leaving feathers all over the damn place. Somehow, amid much flapping of tiny wings and me shouting obscenities, I managed to separate the cat from the bird. I grabbed the cat, ran down the stairs, threw him out the back door and slammed the door on him. (Just in case you were wondering: on nice weather days like today, we leave the back slider door open a few inches so the cats can come & go as they please. Probably a bad idea when I’m going to take a shower. Probably a worse idea to advertise that we do this on the Internet.) And let’s not forget that I was naked for all of this – so um, hi, neighbors! I really hope you were all at work, but please feel free to send me your opthamologist bill if I inadvertently caused you to bleed from the eyes.

Ok, population of the house is now me (still naked! hello!), the bird, and Teenie – who has never hunted a damned thing in her life and I don’t think she would honestly know what to do with a bird if it flew up and pecked her on the nose. So I wasn’t worried about her, but little Miss Birdie (I don’t know that it was a female, but that what I called her) was definitely injured, and I didn’t know how badly, but she was hiding under the trunk in our living room. I called my vet, who referred me to a different vet – a mere 15 miles away (gee, is that all?) – where they would take in injured wildlife. Fantastic! But I’m still naked, and oh yeah, sort of greasy! I called my mom, who reassured me that I would not be a horrible person if I took 20 minutes to shower and slap on some make-up before I took the bird to the emergency clinic, so that’s what I did. I put on my gardening gloves, caught the bird in my living room windowsill, put her in an Amazon.com box, draped a towel over the top of it (thinking it would calm her if it was dark – I have no idea if it helped or not), and drove off to the vet’s. They took her and said they were pretty sure she’d be ok, so I left a generous check for their donations-only wildlife center, and that was that. On the way home, I stopped at the pet store and bought collars with bells to put on all of the cats, because I’m fine with them killing mice (lesser of two evils – I don’t want mice in my house, soooo….), but the bird thing? Not cool.

End of scene.

Moving on: The phone interview today has turned into an in-person interview on Monday. This could be good, but I’m not letting myself get *too* excited about it, since that didn’t work out well for me in the past, and besides, I’m still not sure that I understand exactly what this job entails. But apparently I impressed someone, since they still want to talk to me after the phone interview. We’ll see.

Meanwhile, scary stuff over in Houston with this hurricane. My brother lives there, but he’s evacuating tonight, and going to stay with our cousin (Cat’s brother) in Austin. Apparently he’s mostly just packing up his clothes and his guitars – I’m not sure he cares about much else.