Monkeeshrines

In October 2006 I moved to Jasmine at Orlando East. It was actually one of the last real posts I had left before my two-and-a-half year hiatus. For the most part, it's hit-and-miss with them, and I have the same trouble with pest control here that I did with Howell Branch Station; I ask them to come and they never come. (I will be soooooooo happy to be shod of that!) The guy that set up my lease - Djaun or something (pronounced like J'onn, as in Martian Manhunter) - disappeared right afterward and I never saw him again. Replaced by a lady named Aida. Quite nice, very appeasing - at least to your face. The manager was a woman named Kim. Another nice-to-your-face lady. Very badly bleached blonde, and loved to wear low-cut blouses that showed of her ever-so-beautiful expanse of chest that looked as though she lived under a UV lamp for the past 35 years and would shatter if you touched it. Whenever I saw her - and in the last few months of her stint here at Jasmine I saw her quite a few times - it was impossible for me to keep my eyes off that dark brown elephant skin she called clevage.

For maybe the first two years, no big thing except the bug thing happens. In late fall of 2007, the air conditioner starts to freeze up and drip into the carpet. Three complaints later, the maintenance guy comes and presses a button and it makes a gurggling noise and stops dripping. For about two weeks. Two more complaints later, same thing. Then winter comes, and by the time it heats up again, A/C drips. April - 3 complaints, they come to drain. May - 2 complaints, no one comes. June - I was told the A/C needs replacing. Ok, replace it. July - nothing. It was not until the middle of August 2008, after about 5 more complaints, that they actually get around to replacing the thing. In the meantime, I have had my carpet wet-vaced about 4 times, 2 of which were supposed to have been either accompanied or followed by someone at least draining the bastard so I don't have to call the wet-vac guys again. So, finally, in August, the guys finally replace the A/C. And, added bonus, my electric bill goes down about $30 for a few months. Hooray! Shortly after this, I guess Kim got transferred to a different property or quit or something, and a lady named Linda - who, no sarcasm, is really nice, takes her place, a girl named Nancy takes Aida's place.

Mini-entry, somewhat relevant
In December, Rob's mom makes a generous offer to us of helping her eat up her time share days before she loses them for the year. We take her up on the offer and spend a week's vacation in Daytona Beach in a beachfront hotel that we quite liked. I baked brownies in the oven that was in the room with the bake pan that was provided. Rob and I stayed in one room, his mom's sister stayed in a room, later joined by their brother, and his mom, half brother, step father stayed in a third room. We spent the days doing some exploring of the area, climbing a few lighthouses - where I discovered how incredibly terrified Rob is of heights, visiting the wildlife rehabilitation center, poking around the Castillo de San Marcos in St. Augustine, discovering an awesome Mexican restaurant called La Fiesta in Port Orange, strolling along the boardwalk full of closed shops, and doing general touristy stuff. Brenda (Rob's mom) and Laurie (Rob's aunt) spent most of the week looking at houses for Laurie. She was finishing up a bad breakup with her husband and was looking into moving to Daytona. I don't think she ended up buying one, though.

We went to the mall one day, and Brenda gave us each $100 for Christmas. $100 bucks from a woman I met the previous day. I kinda felt awkward taking it. We got her a couple of Nora Jones CD's. She had been talking about Nora Jones pretty much all week, and how she only had one CD of hers, so we got her some more. She appreciated it so much she started to cry and hugged us both. Then she made us all dance to them.

At one point Laurie discovered that while we were out someone had apparently broken into her room to take a shower. Nothing was missing, just messy towels and wet floors. When she complained, the management told her that sometimes homeless people sometimes do that to take a bath. It was one of the weirdest things I had even heard.

End of mini entry

So, when we got back from this rather good vacation, feeling all warm and fuzzy and well rested, I return home to an apartment filled with a very musty smell. I turn on the lights and look around and see black mold had decided to grow all over the place while I was away. Linda was now faced with the task of what to do about it - keep in mind, I blame Kim for not being on the ball with all the air conditioner stuff, but she was gone leaving Linda to deal with all her neglect. Linda did a rush on getting a new apartment for me for the rest of my lease that was caddy-cornered to my moldy apartment, but it was still about two weeks before it was ready. In the meantime, I got a storage unit for anything I could save - it wasn't much - and moved myself and Deke into Tadashi and Richard' guest room. When the new apartment was finally ready, Linda was kind enough to allow me as much time as I needed to get my stuff out of the old place. This took a bit longer than a normal move due to the fact that I had to clean everything with Lysol before removing it from the old place.

Mold had attached itself to most of my furniture. It finds particle board particularly delicious. Bed - including mattress, dresser, chest of drawers, nightstand, computer desk, and three bookshelves were beyond salvaging and had to be tossed. I was only able to save my red desk (that I've had since I was a kid), my little brown bookcase (also had since I was a kid), my kitchen table set, and my TV stand. With the exception of the TV stand, all of these were the real wood furniture I owned. I also had to toss out my vacuum cleaner because I could not trust that mold spores had not found a cozy home in the filters and hoses.

So, after cleaning every little thing I owned - every stuffed animal, every book, my diary (which had to be cleaned page by page), some really early manuscripts from high school, every doll, every picture hanging on the wall, every statue... I think you get the idea by now - every little thing I owned and what of the furniture I could salvage, I bought a new bed and dresser I moved in. Deke, now thoroughly freaked out by the ten days being cramped in a tiny room (tiny compared to what he is used to, anyway) and constantly smelling Tadashi's cats from under the door, came in to this new paint scented apartment and got freaked out some more because it looks kind of like the old apartment only everything's reversed, and fell into his new place routine - hid under the bathroom sink.

All throughout this I and adamantly thinking that this is the last time I deal with shit like this. My next move is going to be into a house. I am completely in control of what gets done when, I don't have to count on the mood of the maintenance guy to get things fixed, and I don't have to appeal to the kindness of the management to tell him he needs to get off his ass and do his job. My lease ends in October (about a week from now, actually) and my storage is good until the end of December. So I start looking for houses.

Tune in next time for Part Two.

You don't get anything clean without getting something else dirty. ~Cecil Baxter

It has been quite a while since I have written. Yet again, I have decided to try to start up again, and, as always, it is in the middle of an awful lot of chaos in my life. Maybe that's why I choose to write at these times - I have interesting (at least to me) stuff to write about. I mean, who wants to hear about boring work stuff and what video games I am currently playing? Well, in the past year work stuff has gotten a little less boring, and I have very little time to play video games at all with all the homework I have to do. And, many people I love have gone through significant changes in their relationship status this year, all of which I have at least a little something interesting to say about.

Yes, I did say I had homework to do. In the summer semester of 2008 I rejoined the realm of the college student. I don't know if I told you what I planned to do: I am a member of the College of Elementary Education at UCF. This includes a load of service learning, and endorsements for both ESOL and Reading, and potentially others that I may not know about yet. (I didn't know about the reading one until I started my reading class this semester.) Before I entered the Education major, I had to take my first standardized test since high school. I got a high enough score of the SAT to not have to take the CLAST, and even then, it would have been back in 1999 anyway if I had needed to. It seemed pretty easy; I had studied with the Cliff's Notes study guide for the FTCE (Florida Teacher Certification Exam) and lucked out with the essay being mostly one of the essays I had practiced with. The practice tests that I took from the book enlightened me to some surprising facts: I did well on the mild Algebra portions but had apparently been writing English incorrectly for years. Spelling had never been a strong point of mine, but this went into usage and word order and syntax and semantics and all that stuff I'm reading about for my reading class. So I studied the difference between who and whom, affect and effect, principle and principal, etc., and brushed up on my math and reading comprehension. For some reason, the School Board will only reveal your scores to you if you fail. Since I passed all four sections first time around, I have no idea what my scores are.

Classes I have taken so far include Intro to Education, Technology for Educators, Elementary Mathematics, Teaching to Diverse Populations, Essentials of TESOL (Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages), General Psychology, and Intro to Computer Science (this one only to fulfill minimum credit requirement for my financial aid.) Currently I am taking Essentials of Reading and Learning Theory and Classroom Management. There is an awful lot of reading in the reading class, which isn't too strange... if you're in grade school.

I had a service learning experience this past Spring semester. It is required for a few of my classes, and so for Teaching Diverse Populations I had to go to an ESOL/underprivileged school and observe. The teacher, let's called her Ms Allen, seemed to be more concerned with how much her class liked her/feared her than really helping them learn - at least that's what I thought while I was there. She taught a sheltered ESOL Language Arts class for sixth and eighth graders. She told me that most of the students were fluent speakers and only there because their reading was not grade-level (fourth grade I think is where she said it was on average). She on at least two occasions threatened her 8th graders with failing the FCAT, which they were preparing for, and therefore going to fail eighth grade - I flashed back to Mrs Goldsworthy doing that to me in fifth grade.

Ms Allen offered to me to lead an FCAT lesson - which pretty much consisted of reading out of the prep book - I didn't know anyone's name and she did not seem too interested in managing her classroom while I was "teaching". Perhaps she expected me to, but, as I did not know anyone's name, all I could do was say "HEY!" when the students started jabbering.

My next service learning is in a couple of weeks, and some of it is teaching for Junior Achievement. The lesson plan is provided by JA. I'm a bit nervous, but, if my volunteer work in high school for the church is any indication, I'll be fine.

More news to come, but it's getting late, and I have a test to study for tomorrow that I have been procrastinating all week. Maybe I will keep this going for a while. And I still intend to continue the elaborations, maybe add a few for the two years that have passed since.

BTW, for anyone who reads this and does not already know (which I think is no one, but I'll say it anyway) I'm on Facebook, so don't be afraid to look me up!

The young mind is like jello - the idea is to get lots of good stuff in before it sets. - Anonymous (saw it years ago on a directory board in the mall)

Ok. I was looking at my elaboration list and realized that there are a few things on there that I either don't remember too much of or there isn't much of. So here's what they are:

04.05: Sonia/Stephanie - When I stared working for Randstad, I was in the care of a girl whose name I think was Amy. Amy was nice and very helpful. She took care of us. And she left one day without a word. Did not contact my manager at Wachovia, did not contact us to let us know she would not be out POC. Nothing, just disappeared. Sonia took her place. Rather cordial to your face, but very scatterbrained and a bit mean behind the scenes. I urge Tadashi and Richard to give testimony if they recall. When I moved from one assignment to another I found out about Sonia. Starting at the time was Richard and another girl name Stephanie (Tadashi had started on a different shift I think about a month earlier). Quite a sweet girl, lived literally across the street from the office. Her plight with Sonia was the worst of all of us, although Tadashi's comes a close second. Unfortunately, this one I can't remember all the details to, but it had me so riled that I actually spoke to Sonia's supervisor about it. Something about Stephanie needing a schedule change because of child care issues and Sonia not giving it to her so Stephanie quit and Sonia said wait let me talk to Pam (our supervisor at the time) and I'll call you if you need to come in and then Sonia never called and Stephanie got a panicked phone call from Sonia why didn't you come in and Stephanie said because you didn't call me and Sonia said Oops don't tell anyone and I'll smooth it out. I definitely remember the "Don't tell anyone I fucked up" part because that was what had made me so mad. Richard, any clarity? Do you remember at all?

Ongoing: Tadashi and Richard's custody battle - I actually don't know too much about this and anyway, it's their business and none of yours.

02.14.05 and 04.11.05: Computer dies, and a very generous hobbit-style birthday present from Andy - That's it. My old computer crashed (Richard thinks it was the registry that dies) and Andy gave me a computer so I could use it to find a job; he happened to deliver it on his birthday.

03.05: Dragon Warrior III - Monster/character designer - Nothing much. While waiting in the breakroom between the time I got off work (2am) and the time the bus schedule started up (5:30) I would play my Gameboy, and one of the games was Dragon Warrior III. I just flipped out when I realized Akira Toryiama (of Dragonball fame) was the character designer for pretty much the entire Dragon Warrior/Dragon Quest series (as quite painfully obvious in DQ8). This is because I am a geek. BTW, the other game was DragonballZ: Legacy of Goku... Vegeta kept kicking my ass, though.

Life's not a race. And if it is, well, I'm not all that eager to cross the finish line. - me

It occurred to me just now that I never leave short posts.

This morning I got three calls from different people within a 10 minute period requesting a Chistmas list. So here it is as it stands. If I think of anything else I'll post an update.

~vga-compnent 2 way converter (use my tv like a computer monitor) or dvdr drive
~1GB or higher flash drive, or external hard drive
~sake set (tokkuri [flask] + cups, sakazuki [flat saucer-like cup] prefereable)
~garbage can
~kitchen utencils
~microwave
~carpet shampooer
~filing cabinet
~mortar & pestle
~wagon (of the little red variety)
~"Magic Bullet" food processor thingie
~level

Video Games
~.hack//G.U. Rebirth
~Final Fantasy XII
~I like RPG's, but not so much MMORPG's. I have NES, Sega Master System, Genisis, GBA, Dreamcast, N64, PS2, and Gamecube. Feel free to use your imagination if the mood so strikes you.
*If you need to know what any of these weird initials mean, e-mail me.

Gift cards
~Best Buy
~Lane Bryant
~iTunes
~the usual

Now send me yours!

No quote, but hey! If you want to view updates, they're in the comments section.

...is shorter than the sum of its sides.

Yep, I'm moving again. I've been wanting to for a couple years now, but during my initial search, hunting was interrupted by a series of (unfortunate events? No, not really.) hurricanes (which I suppose, in their own right, are unfortunate events...) 2004 saw to it that Florida was... well hydrated, with a healthy serving of carnage. Ok, so maybe it wasn't as bad as Katrina was the next year, but we had four... Charlie, and his little sisters Frances and Jeanne, drove moving out of my mind until it was time for lease renewal. (Yes, I can count... Ivan was doing his own thing on the panhandle and didn't come near me...) Great timing! So I renew my lease, even though I had already told the landlady that I wasn't planning to, and stay another year. Besides, that was the year I walked out on Sprint, so funds were not really in abundance anyway. The following year (2005) I thought about it and looked online and decided it wasn't worth the hassle, and besides I was still technically a temp and funds were in even less abundance than 2004.

In December of that year, roughly a month after I renew my lease, we are told that some company called GREC Conversions XXIII had bought the complex and planned to turn it into condos, and we had the option to buy before they went on the market or move out. They are selling these "as is" and asking, for a 550 sq ft studio size apartment, $130K. Yeah. So in January I start really looking around. RentNet and Apartment Hunters were my main sources of info. I got a list of maybe 8 or 9 places to look at that were not outrageously priced. I call around, but get few little helpful info, the most common response being "Call back about three months before you are ready to move and we'll have more information." So I wait. Look at a few other properties. Weigh other options.

In July I call around again. "Call back a bit closer to your move in date." I narrow down my places to 5. In August I look at a few, and get some info. Early September I've made a decision (my lease ends Oct 31), a place called Wentworth Apartments.

Wentworth is an income controlled property, which, for the people out there who don't know, means that they get money from the State of Florida to offer affordable rent prices to people who have a limited income. Here's how it breaks down in Florida: per year, for 1 person, you must make less than $24,120; for 2 people, less than $27,580, and I didn't look beyond that.

On September 2 I go and talk to a guy (here) named Daniel. He seems nice but very business-like, doesn't seem like the kind of guy who'll go out of his way to help you, but you'll at least want to make sure he gets his commission. Tells me all about the property, answers my questions, shows me pictures of the apartment because they don't have anything to show at the moment, invites me back on Wednesday to see the one that will be ready at that time. I get all my papers ready for income verification and stuff on Monday. I should mention that my salary on Monday was listed as $24,000, so I'm just barely squeaking by. ...I say "listed as" because I usually end up making more than that due to overtime... I forget the papers at home on Wednesday when I wanted to get things all taken care of, but I think to myself, "I can just print them up again." I go to HR Online to print up my salary report and it states boldly that my salary is 24,840. Any other time a raise would be very welcome, but right now I'm screwed. I begin to think maybe God doesn't want me to move in here for some reason.

I call Rob, who had come with me on the 2nd to look at places, and we discuss options, such as co-leasing with me and have this apartment be a secondary residence for him so that I can be pushed into the next threshold, and weather or not it needed to be a primary residence for him because he needed to have his dad's place listed as his primary if he wanted to keep getting "free" car insurance. I ask my boss if I can take a long lunch to "go sign papers" and she says yeah. It was really to go back home and get the salary page that I had printed out on Monday when I was making "$24,000". I go all the way home and pick up my papers and go all the way back to Wentworth, which is about 5 minutes from work, and look at the place and sign papers and give Daniel the app fee and the deposit (necessary for holding an apartment for me) and, although I don't mention the raise, I ask about adding Rob to the lease. As I had told Rob when I talked to him earlier, he could list this as a second residence (20 days per year to be considered a resident.) So he tells me that's OK and he'll co-lease, which he comes down specifically to do the weekend of the 9th (he came down on Friday, which I told him not to do... but that's a different story.)

So here I am thinking I'm ok because there's no way, even with the bit of overtime I had done throughout the year, that I would make over the $27,540 2-person threshold. Daniel had said that it would take a few days for the application to go through. I call a few times during the week,

I call on Tuesday to check on the status of my application. Daniel tells me that he got the response on WEDNESDAY for my application and salary report. He says I make too much money. I ask if he has taken into consideration that I have two people planned for the lease. He says yes and I make too much money even for that. Apparently, and he had failed to tell me this, they go by the amount of the largest of the last two paychecks and assume that's how much you make every paycheck. The previous 2 paychecks had something like 18 hours of overtime (average), which by no stretch of the imagination is what I normally make. We had people in training, a new OS and main program roll out and some of our top processors on vacation or family leave. And I'm not really that concerned about this time of year when the holidays hit their stride. I'm worried about February through June when we're lucky to get the 40 hours we're scheduled for...

So, Daniel proceeds to tell me that, somehow, according to his calculations, I make $34,000. (I wish I did!) I actually have to place him on hold so I can go check this out. Well, I find out that, while I don't make $32k, I do make too much YTD to qualify, even with Rob co-leasing. Insult to injury: Daniel had waited a week to tell me this. I could have found out sooner and taken the weekend to hunt some more.

I go back to my neat little spreadsheet that I had made up for apartment hunting and find out through the magic of internet that each and every one of the apartments I had narrowed down to is income controlled. ... ... So I start from scratch.

I look at listings for places that I had previously rejected for the reason of "too much money, not enough space" and find many apartments that are within my current budget and are roughly the size of the place I have now, but costs about $150 more per month. Of these a place called Jasmine at Orlando East is the #1 favorite. Rob comes over that weekend and again totes me around and I end up seeing all 6 of the places I wanted to. One said, pretty much in the door "We've got nothing for November." One, of which the lobby had a funny smell about it of something like old makeup and stale rock candy combined, was nice enough and became my backup if there was no availability anywhere else since they had at least 6 vacancies for November, plus 4 town homes, but was also the farthest. Two actually showed me an apartment, one of which was Jasmine. I made pretty much a split-second decision yea or nay as to whether I would go to each place or not. By the end of the day, I was applying for Jasmine. The next week I signed the lease and, although none of my stuff is there yet, I "moved in". New address is:

being e-mailed
to all the people that I want to have it
so be my friend or family if you want to stalk me

Not that I'm giving permission for any members of my friends or family to stalk me...

To be continued...
A friend will help you move. A good friend will help you move a body. -Unknown

MY FIRST TIME... Do you remember the first time?

1. What was you first career goal? Pop star

2. Who was your first prom date? Joel Peiper

3. Who was your first roommate? Tadashi Green (Rubright)

4. What alcoholic beverage did you drink when you got drunk the first time? Wine (I was five, according to my mom...)

6. What was your first job? McDonald's

7. What was your first car? 1990 Ford Probe

8. When did you go to your first funeral? Mr Keith (can't remember his first name)

9. How old were you when you first moved away from your hometown? 5

10. Who was your first grade teacher? Don't remember

11. Where did you go on your first ride on an airplane? Florida

12. Who was your first TRUE love? Don't know yet.

13. When you snuck out of your house for the first time, who was it with? Michelle Hollenbeck (Phillips)

14. Who was your first best friend and are you still friends with them? Karen, lost touch with her when I moved.

15. Who was the first person to send you flowers, or who was the first person that you sent flowers to? I once sent chocolate flowers to "Rob"; does that count?

16. Where did you live the first time you moved out of your parents house? Oviedo, Northgate Lakes Apartments

17. Who is the first person you call when you have a bad day? Tadashi

18. Who's wedding were you in the first time? Michelle

19. What's the first thing you do in the morning? roll over, hit the snooze alarm and go back to sleep

Now lets do the LASTS....

LAST PERSON YOU HUGGED: my boyfriend (coincidentally, really named Rob)

LAST CAR RIDE: Out with my sweetie

LAST TIME YOU CRIED?: November, over news my dad gave me

LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED: Spirited Away

LAST FOOD YOU ATE: Tomato Soup

LAST SHIRT WORN: A pink stretchy one

LAST PHONE CALL: Save-A-Child

LAST TEXT MESSAGE: A horoscope thing that I don't know how to stop...

LAST THING YOU TOUCHED: other than computer related things, my helmet

LAST TIME AT THE MALL: March 5th - first date

LAST TIME YOU WERE EXCITED FOR SOMETHING? I'm done downloading Rurouni Kenshin!

LAST THING YOU DRANK? Green Tea

LAST PERSON THAT BROKE YOUR HEART: J

LAST TIME YOU WERE REALLY HONESTLY HAPPY: I'm not allowed to be that happy...

Who are you calling a tiny bug that escapes the wrath of a shoe because it's so small that it fits in the grooves and can't get squashed!!??? - Edward Elric

Visit the Fullmetal Alchemist site if you want...

I live in an apartment complex. Pest control is supposed to be included. I have seen a pest guy, or gotten a note saying a pest guy was there, exactly twice in the past 2 years. Since Jeanne, in fact. Needless to say, my place was pretty infested.

So, I got these Raid© fumigators from my local Wal-Mart with the intention of bombing my place once I got it cleaned up enough. With an ample amount of help from Tadashi, this gets done about a week ago. A neighbor had offered to babysit the cats while I bombed, so I took him up on the offer.

Wuna has never been very... affectionate. My nickname for her is "prissy little ice queen". Keep in mind, I never got her spayed; that was probably a good part of it. She would spend all day under the table on the chair because she thought I couldn't see her. That was her haven. Whenever I needed to get her for something, such as to take her to a friend's house while I bombed, I had to chase her around my apartment, and then grab her by the scruff to keep her from dashing away. One thing I will say, she is incredibly fast and light on her feet, even for a cat.

This time I chased her for about ten minutes before successfully trapping her in the bathroom and, after another 5 minutes of attempting to coax her out from under the sink, into a carrier. I came out of this encounter with no scratches or anything. My friend was not ready for me to come over at that time, and he took so long to do so that I had to go knock on his door about 2 hours later to find out if he had fallen asleep or something. I had not let Wuna out this whole time for fear of not being able to catch her again.

Once at my friend's apartment, and bombs set off, I opened the carrier. She stayed in it for a few minutes, then came out and started sniffing around. Deke was chillin' on the couch with us as we watched TV. Three hours later, as per the instructions on the box, the fuming is done, and I air out the place. It was about 9:30, and I was hoping to be home by 10 so I could call my honey.

We, meaning my friend and I, take the next hour chasing Wuna around his apartment in order to take her home. I guess she had enough displacement and staying in carriers for one night, and wasn't going to have any of it. Her eyes actually glowed red, like a special effect in a B movie. Demon Cat! We tried everything from cornering her to trying to prod her into the carrier to trying to just grab her scruff. This is the fruit of my efforts:



Yes, that's a bite on my arm...

As I stood at the sink for the third time, shaking and crying with pain as I washed my wounds, I tell my friend "Just open the fucking door!"

I wasn't really serious. I was in pain and frustrated. A moment later I hear the front door close. He had taken me seriously. I couldn't get mad at him because that's what I had told him to do. I just thought he have enough sense not to actually do it, no matter how frustrated we were.

She hung around the bottom of the stairs for about an hour, then vanished. I haven't seen her come back.

Deke was pretty freaked out. He found the place in my friend's apartment that closest resembled his own haven, under the kitchen sink, and huddled there until the commotion was over and I was properly bandaged, and then he waited about a half an hour before very cautiously creeping out. He's been enjoying a Wuna free home ever since.

Unfortunately, I can't say a whole lot of love is lost over Wuna. She sort of wasn't here even when she was here. And now that I don't have to worry about her "marking" for the imaginary toms in my bedroom, I can let Deke snuggle up with me at night again. He's happy about that! If she does come back, I'll take her in, give her a bath, and the take her to the SPCA. Maybe there's someone else who would enjoy a loner cat.

You give a dog shelter, food, water and love and it thinks you must be a god. You give a cat shelter, food, water and love and it thinks it must be a god. -Unknown

27 is my lucky number. It has been for a few years, since high school, in fact. Not quite a prime number, but not really round, either. I sort of chose it at random: I didn't want it to be something mundane like 7.

So, I'm 27 this year and so far things are looking up. I didn't crash my scooter on my birthday, so that's good. I successfully increased my quality at work without sacrificing my productivity (and in some cases, improving it). Oh, and I met someone.

I think at this point I need to tell you (because I realized that I haven't yet) that I broke up with Brendan in November. Maybe it will be another elaboration post. That's part of the reason I've been feeling lonely the past few entries.

There is a dating site called OK Cupid that I put up a profile on about... I don't know... shortly before I started dating Brendan. I did it as a fun kind of thing, and I was obsessed with answering 500 questions so I could submit my own, which I did keep doing while I was dating Brendan (there's an option to mark your profile as "seeing someone"). I told him about it, and even got him to put up a profile... sort of. He didn't enter any text... None of the questions I submitted were accepted. Pricks.

Anyway, so I sit on this site for a few months after breaking up with Brendan, and a few woos come my way, but no one I feel really connected to. Admittedly, if all I got was a woo, I didn't really have an interest in starting an e-mail tag game; if he didn't have the time to send me a proper e-mail as well (even if it just said Hi I'd like to get to know you) then maybe he wasn't worth my time, either. Although I wasn't a total flake; I did at least check out the profile.

BTW, "woo" is an automated response thingy, and getting one is kind of like getting a valentine that said something along the lines of "I'm nuts about you" with a picture of peanuts on it, like the ones you were forced to give to everyone in grade school.

So I get this woo, and I'm sighing and thinking I'll take just a minute to see if he's cute. The picture he's got up is kinda dark and hard to see, but I take a look at his profile and, well, he sounds cute. I'm not talking about a physical cuteness (although he is), he sounds like a nice guy that would appreciates a geek like me, and even take part. So I send him an invite to send me a message, nothing else in the e-mail. Figured if he wanted to pursue me he'd pursue me. And pursue he did. We exchanged a few e-mails and AIM names. And every time I "chat" with him or read his e-mails I've got a smile. We even have a similar sense of humor. He said it was nice not to have to explain his jokes. I told him I was a kindred spirit. We totally hit it off.

We met Sunday March 5th (about 2 weeks after his initial woo) and spent the day together. Went to Crazy Buffet (which is a really nice place, actually, and of course good food) and a movie (it wasn't really all that great, though) and spent a few hours at my place talking and "chumming" it up, as I guess I'm now referring to it.

And I spend all day Monday thinking about him. And when I chat with him online, big grin on face, he says him too (on both counts). He drops the "L" word, and I'm flattered, but I think it's too early to tell something like that. We don't know each other, and even though we feel very comfortable together, I also don't want to end up hurt. I've seen too many people get hurt very badly (and after 26 ½ years of being single, about 13 of which was with the interest of boys, one becomes quite observant.) I don't want to turn him off with my apprehension (like Brendan with me), but I still feel I need to be wary. He seems sincere, but I'm also pretty gullible. I am so infatuated with him; I hope he is as true as he feels.

When something goes wrong, I'm the first to admit it
The first to admit it, but the last one to know
When something goes right, it's likely to lose me
It's apt to confuse me, because it's such an unusual sight
I can't get used to something so right

- Paul Simon

Below are two curry recipes that will satisfy a quick curry fix. The first is easiest, the second is still easy but has a bit more flavor. Neither is really special. Google curry recipes if you want something more exotic.


Recipe One
Ingredients:
1 can Campbell's Cream of Mushroom Soup (condensed)
appx. ½ cup milk OR water
2 tbsp McCormack Yellow Curry Powder
1 tsp McCormack Indian Curry Powder
1 tbsp Cumin
1 tsp McCormack Red Curry powder (if you like a little spice)
½ tsp celery seed
Your choice of meat or vegetable (chicken, beef, shrimp, tofu, green beans, broccoli, ect.)
*All spices are mix to taste. These are approximations, since I did not measure...


Directions:
Empty soup into medium saucepan. Add milk/water. Heat on medium, stirring constantly, until smooth. Add spices in the order mentioned above. Or not. I just kind of threw everything in. Mix until well blended. Meat/veggies can be cooked in the sauce or however else you like (sauté, broil, bake, etc.) Eventually the meat/veggie should be in the sauce. Serve over rice. Serves 2-4.

A shout out to Mom for teaching us the versatility of Cream of Mushroom soup!

Recipe Two
Ingredients:
1 cup or so Broth or bouillon of choice (see note below for type)
1 tbsp. butter (less if there is fat from the meat)
1+ tbsp flour
2 tbsp McCormack Yellow Curry Powder
1 tsp McCormack Indian Curry Powder
1 tbsp Cumin
1 tsp McCormack Red Curry powder (if you like a little spice)
½ tsp celery seed
Your choice of meat or vegetable (chicken, beef, shrimp, tofu, green beans, broccoli, ect.)
*Note: Meat should complement the broth/bouillon chosen. Chicken should be made with chicken broth, etc. Vegetable broth should work for anything, as well.
*Again, all spices are mix to taste. I didn't measure these, either.

Directions:
(Prepare bouillon according to directions on package.) In a skillet or saucepan, cook meat/veggies. Set aside, saving any drippings. In the same pan, melt butter. When butter in completely melted, sprinkle 1 tbsp flour, whisking with fork or wire whisk. Once thickened, SLOWLY add a little broth and mix until smooth. Then SLOWLY add a little more broth and mix until smooth. Repeat until desired amount of gravy (that's what it is, anyway) is desired, adding flour by ½ tsp if needed for thickening (wait until it is smooth before adding more flour.) Add spices and mix until blended. Add meat/veggie to sauce and let simmer for a few minutes. Serve over rice. Serves 2-4.

If you ever need gravy for anything (mashed potatoes, country fried steak), follow the first few steps and stop before you put the spices in. I wasn't kidding about that...

Edible, adj.: Good to eat, and wholesome to digest, as a worm to a toad, a toad to a snake, a snake to a pig, a pig to a man, and a man to a worm. ~Ambrose Bierce

When baking, follow directions. When cooking, go by your own taste. ~Laiko Bahrs

An empty belly is the best cook. ~Estonian Proverb

Recipe: A series of step-by-step instructions for preparing ingredients you forgot to buy, in utensils you don't own, to make a dish the dog wouldn't eat. ~Author Unknown

We should look for someone to eat and drink with before looking for something to eat and drink... ~Epicurus

I feel the need, at this point, to let you know what happened with J. I've written around it long enough. (Tadashi, I apologize for not embellishing this much when I was telling you...)

It actually started early that year with Elanore. Here's a crude picture to show where exactly everyone lives:



Elanore had this... habit... of feeding the stray cats around the area. She even let one in - gave it a name and everything. "Girl" was a tiny grey tiger that was a bit scared and standoffish (Wuna has inherited her personality). J keeps saying that he took her in during Hurricane Francis. As stray cats often do, Girl got pregnant with some Tom when she reached kitty puberty. Elanore took her in to give birth, but otherwise Girl wandered the woods. She did get friendlier after her litter, though. So, this tiny 7 pound 8 month old kitten has a perfectly healthy litter of 6. All 6 survive and 4 are found homes with Elanore's friends. The two left are a boy short hair tuxedo and a girl long hair seal. She said she was out drinking one night and decided to name them Jäger and Zima (or something like that) respectively. They were, as their mother was, largely outdoor cats. Except they have no objection to sleeping indoors. Which means any "friends" - meaning fleas - they might have met on their adventures also came to stay with Elanore. And the poor girl couldn't figure out why she couldn't get rid of the fleas even when she gave the cats a bath everyday and bombed 3 times a week... She decided to move closer to her father or something into a place that did not allow pets. Why she chose this place when she had 2 cats is beyond me. I don't think she was too bright. She asked me if I wanted one and if I knew of anyone else. I told her J had been concerned and had taken in Jäger in during Jeanne and "may be interested" and I'll ask him. Well, Jäger began had been living in J's apartment, with the new name Oda (as in Nobunaga) since the hurricane. Elanore had asked Debbie if she knew what happened to her cat. Ok, I had told her that J would probably take him, yet she never asked him if he already had. So, after a month or so of attempting to catch her at home, I finally succeed and tell her that Jäger has been living with J (and about why he still had him, as explained below), and that I a week prior had taken in Zima. (I renamed her Wunakei, or Wuna for short, and gave her about 5 baths, which she took very calmly for a cat, and also bathed Deke a few times, who always takes baths as if a little drop of water will drown him; I've still got the scars...) and bombed once to make sure there were no little buggies left.

Ok. So now we know how J got Oda. J had taken him in for a couple weeks during Jeanne, gave him the name Oda and fully intended to keep him, elated to hear that Elanore needed a home for him. All was well for a time, but he started to miss his "adventures" and snuck back outside. (J had been trying to keep him indoors.) The next day, J found Oda hiding under a bush near our stairs (that's the green blob thing on the map above) and took him to his apartment, proceeded to get him water and food, and then noticed that he was dragging his back legs on the ground. At this point, he comes knocking on my door in a panic because he doesn't have money to take him to the vet and could I help out by lending him some (and, yes, he has since paid me back).

We get to the vet as he is closing for the night, but he agrees to take us in the state of emergency. Oda wasn't yowling much, but I'm sure he was in pain. The vet couldn't get a good x-ray because Oda kept squirming, so he recommended the night time emergency vet and gave us directions.

This vet takes Oda and sedates him to get him in a position for a proper x-ray. The 6th or 7th lumbar vertebrae had been broken, and Oda could not support his hindquarters. He still could feel and move them, though. J was given 3 choices: Take him home and restrict his movements and hope he recovers, spend a lot of money to operate, or put him down. Because Oda was still able to move his back legs, J didn't think it was necessary to put him to sleep, and he didn't have the money for operation, so, he got Oda a cone and some pain syringes (oral medication for smaller animals often are put into needle-less syringes) and took him home and "locked" him in the kitchen (thus, restricting his movements).

Even though at first Oda didn't eat or drink much, J did get him up and about and in about 8 weeks Oda was almost his old, playful self. A couple of months later he was even jumping onto the exercise bike J has.

Ok, so this ordeal explains how we started to get "chummy" as I had put it earlier. I find out: he's a passionate Democrat who has dreams of one day being a diplomat or something (I know he wants a government job in International Affairs); he fluently speaks about 5 languages (let's see... English, of course, Spanish, Portuguese, Italian... um... I can't remember the 5th... French, maybe); he has a thing for Japanese history (hence him naming his cat after a Japanese warlord); he is quite a Star Wars, Star Trek, James Bond, Highlander geek (I watched him turn into a little boy once when he found a Yoda light saber toy... It was one of the cutest things I'd ever seen); he's a huge Duran Duran fan... and a whole bunch of other things.

So one day trying to be a nice next-door neighbor and friend, I bring over a bottle of wine. He'd been complaining about not being able to afford some. We drank the whole thing and chatted for a bit (he kissed my feet because I knew that Carrie Fisher was 19 during A New Hope.) As I said "Good night" in the usual European style (a kiss on the cheek), he leaned in for a much heavier kiss. So much for "good night".

Man, he's a good kisser, though! I don't think I could have stopped if I wanted to (which, at the time, I didn't). So we played around a bit, undressed from the waist up (and he was a horny MFer...), but I'm a good little Catholic girl (HA!) and wouldn't let him beyond that. After a few days of somewhat avoiding him in order to gather courage to ask where we go from here.

At this point I want to start up a relationship. Technically, I wanted to start a relationship for a bit before this, but had no courage based on previous negative experiences telling crushes about my affection (*cough*Rob*cough*). So four days later, I knock on his door; he answers with a smile.

He had been talking it over with his friend Steph (another Duranie) and I'm not sure what they actually discussed. (I get the feeling that Steph has a "talent" for speaking a lot but saying little. Unintentionally.) So I tell him what I feel and he tells me...

"I don't see enough of Rosaline in you."

Rosaline was a girl he claims to have been in love with over 10 years ago. He dated her for about 5 years and, as he tells it, he was jerk to her (which I don't doubt) and due to this and some other things going on in her life as well, she suffered a nervous breakdown and ended up shutting herself in her room most of the time and would not let him see her. She has since moved on and gotten married and started a family. He, however, for one reason or another, has been unable to move on.

I told him if what he is looking for in a woman is another woman, he'll never find it. Honestly, I think now that he was just blowing a lot of hot air, and although I don't doubt that he, in his own mind at least, still loves Rosaline, he does not honestly expect to find her in someone else.

At the time, though, I was determined to woo him, in my own mind at least. I figure that if it was meant to be, it will happen on it's own, and there's no harm in being his friend in the meantime. But I was actually pretty distraught - breakdown type stuff, no concentration at work (somewhat luckily, I had training all day the next day). After a second talk I calmed down a bit, although I actually panicked when I was away from him. I mean at work, at the store, wherever. As soon as I got home and there was only the thin wall between him and me, I was okay - whether or not I actually saw him (or he was even home).

Since then there have been two more of these more than friendly encounters, slightly less clothed, and spaced about a year apart from each other. Okay, so we pretty much dry fucked. The appropriate articles of clothing were on. The last time, we had gotten into an argument because he had come BANGING on my door at 2:30 in the morning piss drunk. After shouting and then talking, he got horny. He later admitted that he wanted a "fuck buddy" out of me, although he also would be respectful of my decision to remain a (technical, I guess, at this point) virgin until I get married (or turn 30, which, by the way, is my 30 year rule). I decided after that, I'm not gonna do this anymore. There's no affection for him anymore, I'm starting to feel resentful, and it goes against the entire point of my decision to wait.

...I am so sick and tired of being everybody's warm-fuzzy sounding board. I want to be a full-blown sexual threat right now. I want to get down on my hands and knees and do it, hot, sweaty, savage, wrong, morally reprehensible! - from The Most Massive Woman Wins

Keep in mind that this is during a time when I was working at Sprint and making outbound calls. My normal days off were Sunday, Wednesday and Thursday, which means I called people for 10 hours a day.

Labor Day Weekend: We were given Monday off. Long Weekend, Yeah! not all that important, mind.

9.1.03 - On Monday night I call my Mom to ask her if she knew how to make miso soup. She says, "Yeah, go to Publix and pick up a package of miso soup mix and follow the directions." Direct quote.

9.2.03 - Tuesday I went in and, like most days didn't feel like working. It depressed me to tears to go to work. I told my team leader I didn't feel well, and he let me go home. As soon as I was out of the door I felt better. I decided it was time I went back to school, so I drove to UCF, paid the $3 day parking and went and got an application and some FAFSA info, ran some other errands, and then went home and played video games or something. I was going to fill out the applications on Wednesday when I was less tired and had time to call family about information needed. Wednesday I think I was doing something with someone and so it came and went and I forgot until I was laying in bed.

9.4.03 - So, I woke up on Thursday, got the mail and then sat down with my apps. I had written my name and address down when my phone clucked at me. Funny, I didn't hear Super Mario Bros... See, I've got a ringer called "Crazy Chicken" for my voicemail, and Super Mario Bros. for my ringtone... So I check my messages. My brother called and said something happened with Mom and she's in the hospital. I immediately drop what I'm doing, quickly feed Deke (my cat), and hop in my car and head for Clearwater. I can't remember too much on the way there, how worried I was or if I even listened to music or not, but then again, most of that week was a big, blurry undulation of emotions.

Next thing I know, I'm there, my brother meets me at my Mom's condo and leads me to the hospital (has to pull over after the toll because I don't have E-pass). Somewhere in there I found out that Mom was stopped at a light and didn't go when the light turned green. Someone, from my understanding it was a cop, went over to her to see what was going on and found her slumped over the steering wheel. He called an ambulance and tried to resuscitate her. I don't know whether he was successful on not on his own. Anyway, when I got to the hospital she was in a coma and on a respirator. Andy said he had called Heather, who at that time was unsure whether she could come down (from University of Richmond; by the end of the day she had bought plane tickets). We tried to call Dad (numerous times), but he was out of town. He went to St. Petersburg for something, but I can't remember what right now. So it was basically Andy and me, and Mom's partner Ronica a bit, for now. All there was to do really was wait. The doctor said what I told you above and there were some tests to be done to get more on her condition. The nurse asked what medications she was taking. She took about 10 different medications from heart medication and cholesterol reducers to insulin. I told her what I knew, but that didn't help her, she needed the specific types, the names of each medicine. So I said I'd find out.

I call Sprint to see if there was "left over vacation", a.k.a. RTO, slots available for Friday - we have to call at midnight if we want it, I guess to be fair or something. I called at 11:55. I can't remember who it was that told me yes, but he can't give it to me now and to call back in 5 minutes. So I did. Spoke to someone else. Said there was 8 hours, but it has already been given away. M@*&$^@F*#%$@!!!!!!!!! I use sick time.

9.5.03 - My Dad calls back either late Friday morning or early afternoon. He sounded really worried and even somewhat guilty (about what he had done the past year), although that could have been my disdain for him at the time. Even though he had walked out on her six months prior and handed her divorce papers the previous month, she was still his wife. I never doubted that he still loved her, and even still loves her; that was never a question. He just acted in a way I think cowardly and selfish. But I digress. So my Dad rushed to the hospital and meets us (Ronica and I) there and I tells him what's going on (I think that's what happened; my memory is telling me that Andy had something to do in Orlando, but my memory could be lying to me...) Heather comes in (I can't remember who gave her a ride. Andy might have on his way back...) on Friday evening.

I had looked in Mom's medicine cabinet and found - I kid you not - about 40 bottles. At least 20 had expired dates on them (they had not been used since the expiration date, though. Don't get too worried) So, on Friday afternoon I spend maybe 45 minutes going through her pill case and matching up the pills in it with the pills in the bottles so I could figure out which ones she is actively taking. About 6 or 7 were prescription medicines, and about 5 more were vitamins of some sort. I wrote it down, took the bottles and took it to the hospital, who didn't take any of it, even after I told them I had the information they asked for. They didn't seem to want it anymore.

9.6.03 - I call Friday to see if I can get Saturday off. Normally there is no RTO on Saturdays, but I lucked out. There was 16 hours and I took 10 of 'em. Yea! Makes up for Friday. I ask about FMLA (Family and Medical Leave) and they say to call the HR person (who's name I can't remember) and they transfer me and I leave a voicemail. I decide to go in on Monday when she'll be in the office. I think I do go back to Orlando for some reason, but, again, I can't remember what. I don't go near work, and I'm back in Clearwater Saturday evening.

The doctor at some point during all this had told either Andy or me that Mom currently was using about 10% of her brain, and that was all the activity that was found. Possible, very very unlikely, that some recovery can be made, but there will be severe brain damage.

9.7.03 thru 9.15.03 - More waiting. Mom's past the 48 hour mark, meaning the minuscule chance she had of recovery is even more so. I think Grandma, Grandpa and Susan came on Sunday. My Aunt Susan, who is mentally handicapped, and I spent a lot of time in the garden of the hospital talking about other things. She kept trying to play Pac Man on my phone but had trouble controlling the guy and the ghosts would get him. I don't remember exactly when Aunt Linda came, but I'm pretty sure it was by the time Grandma and Grandpa got there. (These are my mother's parents and sisters, by the way. She has two more sisters, Leslie and Wendy, that came later.) I'm not sure what it was, but at some point Aunt Linda either said or did something that so strongly reminded me of Mom I burst into tears. I'm tearing up just thinking about it. When she hugged me, she stroked my hair, exactly the way Mom used to do that and I think that might have been what it was.

One last test and the doctor said he'd give us an answer at 5. This was at about 10 pm. We thought he meant 5 pm the next day. He meant 5 am. In the meantime was when my grandparents and Susan came. He said that she was clinically brain dead. We made the decision to take her off life support. It was scheduled for I think 10 am on Tuesday.

On Monday I went to see what's-her-name HR person about FMLA, and decide to check my e-mail while I am there. I see a mail from Ms. Patel (the recruiter) that I've been scheduled for an interview for a temporary position in WFM on Tuesday. I e-mail her back and ask to reschedule. Not really because I wanted to be there when they took my Mom off life support, mind; I didn't. Rather because I was under a lot of emotional stress and didn't want to have to think too hard. I get the form for FMLA and go back to Clearwater.

9.9.03 - I'm off at about 8:30. It's maybe a 2 ½ hour drive from my Mom's condo to Orlando. I try to avoid looking at the clock. I fail. Not that I cried or anything, but I was really depressed. I go to the HR office, she's not there. I check my e-mail. Ms. Patel said no I can't reschedule. Keep in mind I had not told her why I wanted to reschedule. I figured, fine, since I'm here. I expected to have to do the interview anyway, I was dressed for it and all, and besides, when exactly would I have reschedule for? So I did the interview, I think I did as well as I would have under normal circumstances. I tried not to bring up my mother, and for the most part succeeded, except I asked when the position would start should I get the job and if I needed more time, could it be slightly postponed. I was thinking if they started the job next Monday, I may not be in a state of mind to work. I was thinking Ms. Patel was efficient at her job. Anyway they (Ms. Patel and "Ma Bell" - Bell was the last name of the woman who ran WFM and we liked the pun...) said I would be expected to start when they need me and asked why I might need more time. So I told them. I didn't expect Mom to keep breathing after the life support was removed, so I told them what I thought had happened - my mother had died that morning. They then said of course if I need more time for something like that I could have it, and Ms. Patel gave me some literature on dealing with loss. Personally, I think I was handling it pretty well considering, but I was glad to see her show some compassion. I spoke to my direct supervisor (at that time it was a guy named Scott) and asked him about bereavement leave. He was answering a question from one of my team mates and so I called my brother to get more info and find out when the service would be. He said hold off for now because she's still breathing. Ok. I tell Scott that I don't need bereavement just yet and I'll call him when I do. And then I go talk to the HR FMLA person and get the paperwork, and go back to Clearwater.

9.10.03 - My only purpose for going back to Orlando was to hand the paperwork to Ms. FMLA HR person. So I drive for 2 ½ hours to spend 10 minutes at work. Ok, so I went to check on my cat, too (good thing, he was almost out of food and water) who meowed at me for the 5 minutes I was there, and meowed very loudly when I left again. Then I drove for another 2 ½ hours back to Clearwater to wait some more. While we were waiting, we (My dad, Andy, Heather and myself) started to clean up Mom's stuff. Found a lot of things that we didn't realize she still had (she probably didn't realize she still had most of it...) There was a rather tense conversation between my Dad and Grandma at some point, most of which I didn't pay too much attention too. Whatever issues they have with each other are their business.

I told you my dad made me mad at my Mom's funeral, right. Here's the prep: While we were going through Mom's stuff, Dad said "you two girls (Heather & me) can look through Mom's jewelry and see if there is anything you want." So we did. Admittedly, there were some things we were taking for the sole purpose of selling. Not really much; most of what I took I actually wanted to keep for one reason or another, but a few things went into the "sell" pile. We came across a ring - a band with 5 diamonds in a channel - and set it aside. A few minutes later, in another compartment, we found an appraisal for said ring. I won't write how much it was worth (mainly because I don't really remember), but it was pretty easily the most valuable thing in there. (Most of it was "costume jewelry" anyway.) Heather and I discussed what we were going to do, and she suggested taking it to this place she had seen that will do "free" jewelry appraisal. I only put "free" in quotes because it turned out to be a pawn shop. The appraisals were unreliable at best. Anyway, I wasn't satisfied. I was worried that the ring might be of some importance, and wanted to see if Dad knew anything about it. He said he didn't, but he wanted to keep the ring himself, for whatever reason. He said something along the lines of keeping it so he could pass it to us when he dies or something. Heather said she knew he would do something like that, I shouldn't have asked him, Mom probably bought it while she was working her kick-ass job and making enough money to afford a few nice things, etc. But wait for it...

We also found a bunch of stuff we knew Mom had since High school - there was a charm bracelet she had that we gave to Grandma, who seemed to appreciate it. I kept Mom's sorority necklace (ACW - now my sister's sorority) I guess for safekeeping.

9.12.03 - Dad took us (Andy Heather me) out to brunch and while we were there the hospital called on Heather's cell phone to let us know Mom stopped breathing. So that was it. I didn't get too emotional. I was quite emotionally exhausted by that time. Dad seemed to get a little weepy, though.

I think we went to the funeral planner that day to start the whole process. Dad knew Mom wanted to be cremated, and we had all come to the same decision earlier that week that we did too, when our time comes. (I don't know if my siblings feel that way still; I do. But I digress...)

The next few days were very much a blur. At some point I went back to Orlando for the day and Tadashi bought me some DVD's of an anime I like to try to cheer me up. I tried to smile sometime - it actually physically hurt to pretend to smile.

The coroner took a few days to "make sure there was not foul play" of some silly shit like that. My mom also had been an organ donor, so the appropriate usable organs were, well, donated.

9.16.03 (I think) - At the wake, I felt like it was my job to comfort everyone else. I had been crying myself to sleep about this for a week and a half; I think I had run dry anyway, so I concentrated on the others there. I think I reminded some of my aunts of my Mom in the same way Linda had reminded me of her: Wendy said something about me inheriting her compassion.

Tadashi came down for the wake, got lost on the way. The trip from her house includes, from getting onto I4, a total of 3 turns. She got lost. She panicked because she thought she had gone too far, but really she had about 5 more miles to go. Dad gave her directions.

Ok. So this is where I explain how exactly he pissed me off. It was a tiny, simple thing, but it fueled the fires of my fury so completely that I'm still mad about it now, what, 2 ½ years later. Remember that ring I told you about a few pages ago? The one with the 5 diamonds and the band and the appraisal and the pawn shop? He was wearing it. Ok, wait. I think I would have been able to deal with it if he wore it on some other finger. It was on the fourth finger of his left hand, as if it was a fucking wedding band. Whatever his rationale was, he was trying to pretend that they were still "happily" married when he had made pretty damned sure that they were not, or at least he did not want to be, for the past 6 months. (Granted, some light has been shed on the reasons why he had left since I even started writing this elaboration. That light will not be shed here; it's too personal on my Dad's part.) It still pissed me, and my sister, off. Not sure if Andy saw it or not. He had not been wearing his "real" wedding band for quite some time, and at least (of course) the past 6 months. (By "real" I mean to say that the actual ring from the wedding had been lost quite some time ago, and he was on, I think, replacement #2.) I think he still has the ring somewhere, I don't know. It's been tainted. Shikon No Tama on the Strickland family. (It's an Inuyasha reference. Sorry, I'm a geek.)

Tadashi, you may feel free to leave a comment about what you thought of my Mom's family as your impression rendered at the reception. I'm not saying anything about it, but I am glad you found my family as amusing as I find yours. :-)

9.18.03 - So we raided Mom's condo the next day or four and loaded up a U-haul with furniture Andy and I wanted to take. And I start my way home. I have no clue what made me think of it ("small miracle", I call them) but for some reason I get off I4 about 5 exits early, in downtown Orlando rather than in Altamonte Springs. Literally 2 minutes after I get off the ramp, my car starts acting funny. Slows down. Won't accelerate when I push the gas pedal. If you've ever run out of gas, that's sort of what it felt like. Except I had filled up in Tampa before I started and still had ½ a tank. Long story short: My fuel pump was jammed. $800 repair. (This is in addition to the upwards of $150 in gas I had spent going to and from Tampa, and the $100 cell phone bill that later ensued, not to mention this whole ordeal had cost me a Mom.)

9.20.03 - My car only took a day to repair, though, and I was back to work on Saturday. I sign on. Was too depressed to anticipate a annoying *beep* that means I've got a call. I stay on "Idle" - which means no calls come in, but my productivity goes down the toilet, for about an hour and a half. I'm not being lazy or ornery. I'm trying to stop crying. I stop crying long enough to trick myself into thinking I'm ready, but then I burst into tears again when I go to push the button that allows me to take calls. I get an angry e-mail from Jason at the Bridge (really sweet guy, too) saying I need to get to work or tell him why I'm not working. I sign off to go home, tell Jason what's up, go to Ms. FMLA HR, who also takes care of Leave of Absence, and tell her what's up and she gets me set for 2 weeks of LOA.

9.25.03 - Crossover. Ms. Patel finally calls me and says I got the temp WFM Bridge job. Scheduled to start on the 1st (thanks for the advance notice). Asks am I sure I'm OK to cut my LOA short and start work? I say Yea, and she says it will take a few days to blah blah blah, that's another elaboration.

Our death is not an end if we can live on in our children and the younger generation. For they are us, our bodies are only wilted leaves on the tree of life. ~Albert Einstein

When I was 13, still rather new to the Central Florida area, one of my lunch table friends was dating a guy named (here, anyway) Rob. He was sweet, funny, witty, (spoke way too fast), and he was an actor. When Vicky broke up with him (or rather the last time she broke up with him), I started to like him. Granted, it was a simple, silly reason: he's available.

I kept it to myself. Well, I told a couple of my friends, but for the most part kept it quiet. I joined an acting "troop" (associated with my church's youth group, called Acts of Faith) over the summers largely because he was in it. My friendship with him grew into a real crush. I memorized his favorite-to-recite movie (although I probably would have done that anyway, it's a highly enjoyable movie). I promised myself I would kiss him before the last time I see him. I gave him a shoulder to cry on (or rather, a top of my head, seeing as that I was about 6 inches or so shorter than he was) during an emotional upswing at our Confirmation retreat, and I cried a bit to him. I told him that I love him when he told me he wouldn't go to my Senior Prom with me (yes, I told him after he declined). He said he didn't think of me in that way, blah blah cliche shit that friends tell other friends when a crush is admitted. Not another word was said about it.

(Side note: I took another guy friend of mine to Prom: he was a sophomore, about a foot taller than me, and had offered... Actually, let me put up his verbatim..."If [Rob] says 'no' I'll go with you." This was about a month before I asked Rob and I actually should have seen it at the time, but... I fully regret not kissing him, too. There were about 5 or 6 heavy moments that night where a kiss would have been wonderful.)

After high school, I auditioned for the American Musical and Dramatic Academy (AMDA). I wanted to be an actor all my life; it was my calling. AMDA didn't agree, I was rejected. This ties tidbit in later (which you'd already know if you had read my Life Story. Lazy SOB...:-) )

I took acting and Directing classes and workshops in college (Valencia Community College, or VCC). Rob took classes at a different CC. No clue what type of classes. But we saw each other at church and still had Acts of Faith. I took a year off; I don't recall what for. We did a musical review in 2000 that I "co-directed" (I did one song, and not really very well at that...) But, as was my habit, I still showed up to rehearsals that didn't have anything to do with me or my scene, so I got a lot of Rob. He was in my scene, too.

As is another habit of mine, I would wait around to say "Bye" to everyone (with a hug, and for the boys a kiss on the cheek), and often be one of the last to leave each night because of it. I gave Rob a kiss (on the cheek...) almost every time I laid eyes on him; hello, goodbye, could you pass me the script, etc., which he never refused.

So, come the end of the run, I think during the "pickup" rehearsals between weekends, he comes up to me and says, "It just occurred to me that we've been kissing each other all summer..." at which point I promptly make good on my promise. Planted a nice (closed mouth...) big kiss right full on his lips. Which he didn't refuse. I broke away, smiled ear-to-ear, turned bright red. Then he said, "I WANT MORE!" Of course he was joking.

I didn't see much of him after the review. We would happen to meet "on the street", if you think of the Oviedo Marketplace movie theater as "the street". We'd chat a bit, and then go to our respective movies with our respective friends.

About 3 years later, I get an e-mail from him saying that one of his friends suggested that he audition for AMDA. He had gone just to see how far it would take him. Apparently, a lot farther than it took me: he was accepted and would be moving to New York that summer. Haven't seen him since.

At some point during the entire above everything, he had given me his AOL screen name. A few months ago, I saw he was online and wondered if he remembered mine, or even me. He didn't...remember. My screen name, that is. He remembered me, of course. Even said he had been thinking about me the previous day because he saw someone that looked like me. (Now I know where my evil twin is hiding...bwah ha ha ha ha!) And we chatted. Not much. But he saved my screen name. And we've chatted a few times since. Once he opened a video camera session so I guess I technically did see him.

He told me he would call me while he was down for Christmas, and we would go to lunch or something (or "a filthy, naughty, sordid affair"... those were his words, not mine!) He, however did not contact me (said he was busy, which, after reading his blog, I believe him.)

It recently occurred to me that I don't think I ever got over my affection. Since I started to chat with him online, I've been having... dreams... of the filthy, naughty, sordid type. OK, not really that explicit, but you get my drift. Let's just say my mind has been off J for a bit.

I IM-ed him today, and although there was playful banter waiting to be said, I didn't. I got nervous. I told him I was at a loss for a witty retort, when in reality, I was scared to tease him. What the fuck is wrong with me? I am the biggest tease I know, and I can't pass a few suggestive comments because I'm afraid he'll take me seriously? I've suddenly turned 13 again.

I went to breakfast at the Denny's AoF once got thrown out of. It was a sort of hangout. I consistently scanned for someone I knew (to no avail). I thought about the conversation that had not taken place, and one that could perhaps ensue if I get the nerve. I think I even decided I would "bend" (meaning break) my 30 year rule for him should the chance come. Perhaps I'll explain my 30 year rule one day to those who don't know it.

Whatever happens to me, I hope he ends up happy.

...for someone you adore, It's a pleasure to be sad. - "Glad to be Unhappy" On Your Toes

Click here to get to my Christmas list.

I got bored with the default setup, so I thought I'd try something different. I've never been too much of a pink fan, but you gotta admit, this is kinda cute. And the cat in the corner matches my emotion cat. I think they were designed by the same person...

Not much today. It's getting late already with me begging my various family members for Christmas lists. Apparently my Dad just wants jeans in various colors this year... (What do you suppose he means by "sexy style"...??? Ok, I need a moment to get THAT image out of my head...)

OK. I'm back. Dad, please give me a list of more things you want. Tadashi, please give me a list of more things you want. Andy, please give me a list of anything you want. Thank you Heather, for giving me a list of things... you get the picture.

Meow. Meow meow meow meow. Meow meow meow. Meow. - Dragonskeeper Tutankhamen Strickland

OK so here's my list!

Nice blouses for work
Microwavable container to heat water in
Origami paper (book if you want, too)
Blank 8hr VHS tapes

Stuff for my cubicle
-this can be anything, including office stuff, stuffed animals, or even framed pictures of yourself should you feel so inclined.

Gift Certificates
Best Buy
Lane Bryant
iTunes

Expensive "Toys"
DVD recorder - if you can find one with a VCR combo, that's perfect; if not no big deal.
If the above gotten, then change the VHS tapes to DVD-R (not +R)

Riding Stuff
Jacket (windbreaker and rain, or a hybrid ^_^)
Scarf
Nice gloves
Be creative...

DVDs and other stuff can be found on Amazon.

While you're nibbling on your can openers, I'll be licking the walls. - Tadashi Rubright (It made sense in the context of the conversation, I assure you...)

In January I totaled my car. It wasn't "totally" totaled, but totaled enough that it wasn't worth fixing. Ok, well, maybe that is the definition of "totaled"... Here's what happened:

I was on my way to my "new" job at Wachovia (through Randstad), and I was a bit early. So I stopped in to a BP to get some of their really good coffee and a breakfast sandwich - egg, cheese and ham. I had this bad habit of eating breakfast in the car while driving in order to "save time". Sometime between the BP and the traffic light at Aloma Ave (about a mile away) some cheese drips on to my shirt. I glance in the back to see if I have a spare shirt (I do) and turn back around to see that the SUV in front of me stopped. And, of course, there wasn't enough room for me to stop. So, admittedly, it was my fault. I thought to swerve, and had I not been in the middle lane, I might have avoided hitting the SUV. But, instead I hit at probably about 20-25 mph, crush my engine, split my head open on the steering wheel (although I don't really know how; the airbag deployed. And I am definite it was the steering wheel and not the windshield...) and somehow manage to pull my car over to the curb. I got out of the car a few seconds after blood started to stream down my face. My reason for getting out of the car: I don't want to get blood on my apholstry.

When I get out, I start to get a bit light headed, so I sit down on the curb. I'm trying to stop the bleeding with my bare hand because I didn't have anything (that I was willing to ruin) to hold against my head. A bystander, I don't know if it was a witness or the guy I hit, handed me a shirt. Nice guy. A few minutes later the ambulance comes and takes me to the Winter Park Memorial Hospital... I hope you're taking notes. There'll be a quiz.

So far I haven't cried. My head hurt in many ways, I had jammed my toe and knee when my engine pushed up my steering column, and I didn't have the number to work to tell then what was going on. I really was more panicked at how I was going to pay for the ticket and my 20% of the damages and medical bills, and potentially $500 for the deductible to fix my car. I call the only person whose phone number I have memorized, Tadashi. Neither she nor Richard were home. The RN was nice enough to offer to call 411 to find my dad. She lets me talk.

So I ask the 411 operator to look up Juluis Strickland. I'm not sure of his address or even the actual town he's officially in. I say he's in the Orlando area.

"I'm not finding anyone by that name in the Orlando area."

"Are you sure?"

"No. But I do see a Julius Strickland in Orlando."

...

...

Maybe she had hit her head and was a little out of it herself. Or maybe she was an airhead. I don't know.

So I call my Dad, and I keep it together until I have to open my mouth to tell him what happened. I can't hold it back anymore. OK, so I like anime, right? You know how in some of the kiddie anime tears sometimes fountain out of the character's eyes? That's pretty much what happened.



I had a difficult time trying to stop crying long enough to tell him what was going on. About an hour later he was at the hospital. Two doctors tried to numb me up. I told the second one I was already numb and waiting for stitches, and he went away for about 10 more minutes.

Somewhere in all this a cop comes in and asks me what happened, and is all prepared to try to convince me the accident is my fault. Says something along the lines of "It's pretty evident that it's a rear end to the other vehicle..." and I respond with "Yeah, I know I'm at fault..." He seemed both relieved and startled that I had so quickly "given up".

After getting about 5 stitches in my head, Dad drives me to my apartment. I find the number to call my boss, who was really worried because it's not in my character to just not show up, and all's well at work for the day. I change my shirt and Dad gives me a ride to the yard where my car was towed, and I take out a few "essential" things. Then we go to the Enterprise a block away from where I live.

1) I do not have a credit card. At least not at that point. Car rentals, no matter where you get them from, will, for some odd reason, only take credit cards; not even debit cards with a Visa logo (which I do have) are not readily welcomed, and the credit card must be in the name of the person who is renting the car, and the person renting the car must be the one who will be driving the car.

2) In order for my insurance to cover the rental, the appointment must be made through the insurance company.

The guy at Enterprise also let me know that I would need three utility bills in my name with my correct address on it in order to authorize me using my Visa debit card. So at least when I went the next day, I was prepared.

Seeing as that this was my 26th birthday, and my Driver's license had just expired, I planned on getting it renewed on the 25th, since Wachovia had decided to give us (the temps) Tuesdays off because it was our slowest day and we weren't really needed. I figured why not do it today since I'm not going to work? We made our way to the DMV and waited about an hour before the guy behind the counter said,...

You know that cliché of waiting for a concert so bad that you wait in line for hours for tickets, only to have them hang up the "Sold Out" sign on the window on your turn?

..."We're closed for the day. We can set up an appointment for tomorrow but we can't take anymore customers today."

My dad kindly said he would tote me around tomorrow, too. So, At 7am we head over to the DMV again and my licence gets renewed in about 10 minutes, but I have to pay the extra $1 because I was renewing late. Apparently, you can renew up to 6 months prior, so if you renew even one day late, you missed your chance and have to pay the extra $1. It was only a dollar, so I didn't care (this is the same person who, 10 months later, would chicken out of telling my mechanic off for making me pay for a $30 oil change after waiting a month and a half full of misinformation and avoidable delays for a transmission repair on a 3 and a half month old moped...) So I paid my $16, got my picture taken (I have band-aids on my forehead in the picture...) and got my new license, and headed down to Enterprise again.

I had set up the appointment and confirmed the rental and everything yesterday, and I had my cable bill, my electric bill, and I think my gas card bill because I couldn't find any more utilities. The guy at Enterprise (different guy then yesterday) said I wasn't in the computer for an insurance-covered rental... But then a few minutes later the guy that helped me yesterday came in and straightened everything out, even made an exception for the gas card thing after talking to his manager, and convinced me to take a Kia Sorrento - a small SUV. I have no need for an SUV. But it was only $2 more per day out of pocket (came to about $20 for the week +3 days) And my dad was able to let me on my way and do whatever it was he did during the day at that time.

I went to work on Tuesday in order to make up the time lost from Monday (when the accident happened). I was a bit out of it, and was having trouble concentrating. At about 11:30 I remembered something from an anime called Fooly Cooly (FuriKuri, FLCL, ﾌﾘｸﾘ) :

Drinking the bitter ones, huh? That makes you feel grown up? The brain needs glucose. If you wanna get your head back to normal, try something sweet. You're tired, aren't you? Every time something comes out of your head, it creates problems for everyone.

It's a good, weird anime, check it out sometime.

Anyway, I remembered Amarao's advice to Naota and so I ate something sweet (Mrs Freshley's Honey Bun) and, lo and behold, I felt a lot better after about half an hour. Whoever said you don't learn anything from TV?

On Tuesday, the claims adjuster told me Cassie is a total loss. (Cassie is the name Tadashi gave my Cavalier.) I called the tow yard to see if I could stop by that afternoon to empty out the rest of my stuff, and the chick said yeah it should still be there.

When I go there, Cassie wasn't. She had been taken to a junkyard on the opposite side of town. So I called and said I'd be by on Wednesday to get my stuff. There was no problem there, but I cried as I took Cassie's license plate off. It's now hanging on my wall with her spare key and my hospital bracelet.

I returned the Kia to Enterprise and researched the hell out of the Lynx bus schedule. And I spent the next 5 months riding the bus and walking about 3 and a half miles to and from work.

The bus will be a different post. So, there you have it. That's the reason I got the Metropolitan. Stay tuned for more elaborations.

Daydreams are nice, especially the ones about...food! Daydreams are cool, alright. But just don't forget about the here and now. The time you spend daydreaming, you could be out making your daydreams come true. See you next time! - Sailor Moon Says

I realized a little too late that I forgot to put my signature quote in any one of the three entries I wrote today... So here it is.

When you ship comes in, make sure you're not at the airport. - I don't know who originated this, but my Dad's friend told me.

Chris: Sorry it took so long, Ms Strickland, but everything is good to go.

Me: Thank you so much for all your help, Chris!

Chris: Your welcome! Your bike's up front, the key's in the ignition. Your total is $30 even; please take this to the cashier to check out.

(Pause)

Me: I'm not paying for this oil change.

Chris: Pardon me?

Me: I'm not going to pay for the oil change.

Chris: You asked for the oil change. I have that on record.

Me: Yes, I asked for the oil change. But I won't pay for it.

Chris: I can't give it to you for free.

(Pause)

Me: Ok, maybe you don't understand me. On October 7th I called in to tell you guys that something was wrong with my bike. The guy I spoke to said "OK, just bring it in." I said I was going to have a friend help me drop it off on Saturday, and he said, "OK, just bring it in on Saturday." On the 8th I have my friend with a pickup truck take me here, when I spoke to you and you told me, "We're a bit backed up, we may not get to it today." Fine, ok. I leave it with you. No word in it Saturday. No word on it Monday. Tuesday I call in and ask, "What's taking so long?" I'm told, "It's in rotation." Ok, rotation's good, I think to myself, you'll get to it today. I speak to you on Wednesday the 12th, and you also tell me, "it's in rotation." I again ask why it's taking so long, and you say "I can't put you in front of the customers who have appointments." "Well," I ask, "what would I need to do to set up an appointment?" You say, "Call ahead." I proceed to tell you I had called ahead and the guy had just said "Bring it in". And you identify the guy as Mike, which means you've had problems with this guy before.

Your mechanic finally gets around to looking at it on Friday, six business days after I dropped it off, and determines that the transmission is shot. I'm told that a weight that shifts the gears broke. You need to call Honda's warranty department to get approval to repair it, which you can't do until late Monday because the mechanic got to it so late of Friday and Honda's not open on Saturdays.

So, late Monday the 17th the parts are ordered, and you tell me it'll be 5-7 business days for the parts to come in. So I wait. October 25th is day #6, and I call. I'm told, "Most of the parts came in this morning and we're waiting on just two of them. I don't see a back order, so they should be in any day now." On day 8, October 27th, I call and talk to you again, and you say, "We're still waiting on two parts." I ask, "Is there a back order?" You say "No, I don't see a back order. Remember, I told you it may be 5-9 business days for the parts to get here." You had said 5-7, that's what I wrote down, and I would have remembered something odd like 5-9. But anyway, I call back on Day 10, Oct 29, talk to you and you say the same thing, no back order. You didn't even say "I don't see..." you said "There is no back order." We've already been over this, remember?

So on November 1st I call in kinda late to see what's up, talk to the guy behind the glass there. He says, I quote "You're not gonna like this. There were two parts placed on back order, it looks like one is on the way, but the clip is on a national back order as of the 25th." Apparently I was supposed to have been called about the back order. I proceed to explain that not only was I not called, but when I had called three times since the 25th and specifically asked twice if there was a back order, I was told no. So he apologized, and that's why he got on your case about that, and he told me that there was no ETA for the part coming into the country, repairs will start the day the part arrives and have within a 24 hour turnaround, and Honda Warranty doesn't allow the use of salvaged parts, even for a supply outage.

I call almost everyday for an update, until on the 8th of November some nice guy, didn't give me his name, has the presence of mind to give me the customer service number for Honda. I call Honda on the 9th and explain my situation, they get someone on the case right away. On the 11th, both you and the chick from Honda call to let me know that there is an ETA of December 5th for the part to come into the country. So I have to prepare for another month of being housebound.

The Chick from Honda calls on the 14th to say that the part came in on the 11th and after inventory will be sent to you. Good. Something starts to go right. I call her and she calls back on the 16th and I find out that the package is held up in Orlando due to adverse weather conditions. Remember all that beautiful weather we had last week? I don't know what she was talking about either. She calls back on the 18, last Friday, to say she has confirmed through UPS that the package has arrived here. I think maybe I'll be able to pick it up on Saturday, seeing as that you're supposed to start repairs as soon as you get the part. I think at this point I take precedence over new appointment-ed customers. No call Saturday. No call Monday. I call Tuesday 10 am. "It's being worked on as we speak." I question silently why you didn't find this out on Saturday when you were supposed to have started. I even call my Dad to ask him to give me a ride. I call Tuesday 3pm. "We got it up there, but we need to remove the plate that covers the transmission, and we don't want to break it, so we needed to order a tool." A tool. A fffff.... tool! So the tool comes in this morning, my bike is fixed and I am told I can come get it, which, I might add, is one of the two things during this whole ordeal that was true the first time I asked.

What you're telling me now, is that after all the mal-information, misinformation, and lack of information presented to me, and after being out of my 3 1/2 month old bike for a month and a half, approximately a week and a half is the fault of someone here, that you are not willing to eat a measly little $30, $15 of which is purely profit, for a little bit of customer satisfaction?

I am my own anti-existence.

I have believed, and still believe that divorce violates the true sanctity of marriage.
The true sanctity of marriage is: two people (regardless of gender) who love* each other so deeply, so purely, that they want to share the rest of their life; they want that last thing they see at night, and the first thing they see in the morning, to be each other's face for the rest of their lives. That is why people get married. If you believe that the sanctity of marriage is to raise a family, then you are not allowed to have sex for pleasure. Stop enjoying sex. Don't have sex unless you want a(nother) child to come of it. Otherwise, you're a hypocrite.

I have believed, and still believe, that if a married couple gets divorced, they should not have gotten married to begin with.
There is no exception to this. There is no such thing as "falling out of love." If you fall out of love, you were never really, truly in love to begin with. If "new developments" occur that spawn spite, one, or both, lied to the other about him or herself, so as to fuel a misplaced trust, and thus yields a love of the person he or she pretends to be, not who he or she actually is. I do not harbor any ill toward divorced people. I understand it is sometimes hard to see the truth about the one you "love*", and divorce is better than being miserable the rest of your life.
So: if my father sought divorce from my mother, and my mother was in the process of finding her own divorce lawyer, then they should not have gotten married in the first place. Since I was born because they got married, I should never have been born. Thus, I am my own anti-existence.


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