Sunday, May 25, 2008

Sleeping In The Shower

Sometimes when i wake up all groggy and tired, i fall back asleep when i get into the shower. I don't mean to, it just kinda happens that way. This dream was an in-the-shower-dream.

My friend Lisa had invited me to a party at her house and came to pick me up. We pulled up in front of her house and it was HUGE! I'm talking pillars in front, underground garage, indoor pool huge! I looked at Lisa and was like, "Damn, you never told me you were rich!". She smiled at me and said, "What can i say? The crematory business is always brisk".

We got out of the car and started climbing the steps, and to my dismay, we weren't getting any closer. I looked back, and i could tell we'd been climbing stairs for a while, but when i looked back at the house, it was still just as far away as if i'd put my foot on the first step. I looked at Lisa, and she was smiling at me, as though she was waiting for me to get the joke. I stared back at her, not knowing what to say. She laughed and said, "It's the latest in home burglary protection. If they can't get to your house, they can't rob you!" I laughed along with her, though i had no idea what i was laughing at. She held up what looked like on of those keyless entry remotes for a car and pointed it at the house. A few seconds later, we were standing onthe doorstep, panting for breath. I could hear music playing and people talking inside. Odd, that the party would have started without her, i thought.

We went inside, and if a house could be bigger on the inside than the outside, this house was. From the outside, it looked like a three-storey house.
Inside, it reminded me of being in one of those hotels where the rooms and hallways make a square ring around a central courtyard. Standing in what i could only think of as The Atrium, i could see all the way up to the roof, with eight floors between myself and it. There was a huge pool taking up most of the ground floor of The Atrium, and it was teeming with people. There were people everywhere, dancing, singing, eating, smoking. . . i felt overwhelmed by the sheer number of people in the house. I began stepping backwards toward a corner to get away from them, and i kept stumbling over more people on the floor. Lisa, noticing my distress, took my arm and said, "There's no one in my room, let's go in there." I nodded shakily and asked if we could please take the elevator this time. She laughed at me.

We stepped into the glass elevator, and she pushed the button for the top floor (of course, i thought to myself). As we went up, i could see the people on the various floors. The closer we got to the top, the more packed and crammed they seemed to be. There were people actually dangling from the railing on the top floor. I dreaded making my way over this mass of flesh to her room, but when the door opened, it wasn't on a hallway, it was to her room.

As she promised, there was no one in there. Relieved, i looked around for the bed, wanting to collapse into it. There was all the usual things you'd expect to find in a bedroom: a dresser, an armoire, a closet, an entertainment center. . . but no bed. In the center of the floor was a massive bath tub sunk into the ground, and a shower head on the ceiling. When you stood in the bath tub and turned on the water, it'd be like showering in the rain. The pure opulence of it was amazing to me! As if anticipating my question, Lisa said to me, "There's no bed in here, i sleep in the bath tub. I looked down into it, and i could see pillows and blankets. I shrugged and stepped down into the tub, and she climbed in with me.

"Shouldn't you be out with your guests?", i asked her.
"Nah, they won't miss me. Most of them are here all the time, anyway", came her reply. Strange, i thought. The tub was much deeper than it looked from the top, and the closer i got to the bottom, the colder it got. I sat down on one of the pillows, shivering. Lisa sat behind me and put her arms around me, shivering too. "Is it always this cold in here?", i asked her. "Yes," she said, "That's what these blankets are for." I pulled the blankets over us, and we sat there together, huddled under the blankets and shivering. I felt so cold i could swear i was actually wet. . . "Did you turn the water on?", i asked her. "No, it's too cold for that. We'd die," she said.

I woke up freezing my ass off because the hot water had all run out. I stood up, irritated beyond belief because i hadn't even washed my hair yet.

Friday, May 23, 2008

I Just Woke Up . . .

. . .on the first day into our fourth year as a married couple, and the first day into our seventh year together. Let me tell ya, it's an unbelievable feeling.

The first year was a bit rocky, as we got to know each other and worked out some major issues that were going to either make or break us as a couple. Though some of those experiences were trying for a new relationship, i'm glad we were forced to develop our mutual problem-solving at such an early stage, or we might not have made it.
Our relationship emerged a lot stronger because of the start we had.

The next two were also difficult, through no fault of ours, but because of our experiences during our first year together, we were strong enough to face these trying years successfully and with solidarity.

After that, it's been a happy blur of becoming close friends with his kids, planning and having our wedding, buying a house, picking up and moving to another state, changing jobs. . . Of course problems still rear their ugly heads once in a while, but we deal with them almost effortlessly and arguements are very few and very far between.

The major events've been great, and i have a lot of fond memories of them, even when things weren't so fun at the time. But i really feel like it's the little things that've defined us and shaped us into the couple we are. Things like when he bought me a card for no reason at all, all the litte hurts i've suffered at the hands of others that he's nursed me through, the movie he took me to see that he REALLY wasn't interested in, the times he's done the dishes so i wouldn't have to, taking me to Applebee's even though he's sick and tired of that place, the odd-ball pet names we call each other. . .

Looking back over the entirety of our relationship, i can honestly say this is the happiest i've ever been with another person. I trust him with my heart, my thoughts, and my life. I love him like a best friend. I love him like soulmate. And to know that all my feelings are returned and felt in equal measure toward me is more than i could have ever hoped for.

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Death Note- The Movie

I'm just gonna come right out and say it:

It was TERRIBLE! It was worse than terrible; it had the potential to be really awesome. The technology for the special effects is there, the story line in the Anime is pretty basic and easily translatable into a script, the plot is simple, and the characters (in the Anime) are rich and believable.

Instead, they decided to just hack the plot and the storyline into bits and pieces, and change a bunch of shit they really didn't need to change. Then, as if that wasn't bad enough, they dubbed it instead of subtitling it. As if THAT wasn't bad enough, they didn't translate the Japanese text from the newspapers, etc when it came up on the screen. The text would have probably given important info, assuming it'd been accurate, which at this point is a bit of a stretch.
I won't go into any further detail in case there's a small chance someone reading this still plans to see it.

Now, my basic problem with this is simple: Deathnote's kind of a niche thing.
I mean, most of the population's never heard of Deathnote, and probably wasn't interested when the preview came out. Why would you try to make it appeal to a broad audience? If you're going to make a movie that targets a niche crowd, wouldn't it make sense to make sure that small target audience is catered to? Follow the fucking story! Don't change major plot events! Don't change small details that make no sense to change! I don't understand the goal of the moviemakers when they do that shit. But if you're planning to go see it, take my advice: wait till it comes out on DVD, and then sucker one of your friends into renting it for you.

Monday, May 19, 2008

Awe, You Must Be Lonely!

I love to read. Love it. I practically inhale books. To me, there are few things more satisfying than sitting with a nice, fresh cup of hot tea with the world running so completely in the background that I forget it's there, completely engrossed in the details of a really good story.

And few things are more irritating than some chump (it may be a coworker, it may be a friend, it may be a family member. . . but at this particular moment, they're just a chump) looking over at me, seeing me reading, and deciding to walk over to engage me in small talk. And what's this all-important conversation they just couldn't wait to suck me into black-hole-style, you ask? Oh, it's simple. They just want to ask me a question.

Chump: Whatcha readin'?


At least, that's what I'm screaming at the top of my brain. Instead of replying, I just kind of hold my book up so Captain Interruption can see for himself. I'm hoping against hope that this will deter any further attempts at conversation. I don't know why I bother, because the next inevitable question is:

Chump: Oh, what's it about?

What's it about?! Well! Since you asked, of course I don't mind launching into a half hour discussion detailing this story I've invested the last week in carefully reading. . . In fact, I was HOPING you'd come over here and ask me for a fucking book report! Especially since I know for a fact that you could give a rat's ass!

Of course, this is what I'm thinking, but instead I look blankly at my mood-saboteur and say: I don't know, I'm not done yet.

That usually does the trick.

But I have to wonder. . . do people look at me with a book in my hand and think, "Oh, GOD! What's that THING that's clamped onto that lonely girl's face?! For the love of all that's holy. . . it's a book! Oh, I MUST go and rescue her from it,"? How can they not see how absorbed I am and opt to leave me the hell alone? Why is reading synonymous with lonely in the eyes of the people in my life?

It's a trial for me to remain civil to people who do this to me. One of my coworkers came unwittingly close to losing a limb today when I decided to read at my desk instead of sit with my them at lunch today. There I was, minding my own business, when I heard (we'll call her "Gina" for blogging purposes) Gina in the other room ask, "Where's Jane?" There was a general round of Idunnos, so she got up to come look for me. I instinctively hunkered down in my chair and tried to look really focused on my book. I heard her come up behind me, and I didn't look up, employing the If I Don't See You, You Don't Exist strategy of encouraging her to go away.

Gina: There you are! Whatcha doing?
Me: Reading.
Gina: Oh. (mildly offended tone) Whatcha reading?
Me: The Amber Spyglass. (Good for me! I usually don't even respond to that!)
Gina: Oh. What's it about?
Me: (suppressing the urge to tell her illiterate ass to fuck right off, huffing impatiently instead) It's the third in a trilogy. Do you really wanna stand there and listen to me recap it while your lunch gets cold?
Gina: No, I guess not. Why don't you come eat with us?
Me: (mentally punching her in the face) Nah, i think I'll just read today. I've got a bit of a headache.
Gina: Oh, I'm sorry! I'll leave you alone.

So the reading wasn't a good enough reason to leave me alone- I actually had to feign illness to get her to go away. Is it just me? Or do people actually know this is my biggest pet peeve and do it just to fuck with my head?! Jerks.

Thursday, May 15, 2008

Drew Carey, How I Loathe Thee!

I have to say: This guy is so incredibly NOT funny! I used to watch his show occasionally and i thought it was a pretty funny show, and therefore thought (stupidly) that he was funny.

Then i started to watch Whose Line Is It, Anyway?. That's when i got the wakeup call. . . This guy is awful! How can someone touted to be so funny be so unfunny. . . on a COMEDY show?! I thought maybe it was because the people surrounding him were so funny, but after a few weeks, i realized that wasn't the case at all. He just sucks. Eventually i quit watching the show altogether because he completely ruined it for me everytime he opened his mouth. Then i forgot about him.

Until i caught him on The Price Is Right yesterday. This is not a show i normally watch, but my husband was flipping through teh channels and it was the Spin The Big Wheel At The End part, so he left it there. Watching him talk and repeat himself in this really bland voice completely validated my feelings about him. He was flat, boring, and really sounded like he just didn't want to be there at all. Now, while i realize this isn't a standup comedy show or anything, i still couldn't believe he wasn't more entertaining than than that. I've just come to the conclusion that he's only funny if he's parrotting someone else's lines. Without writers, this guy would have been another used car salesman.

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

So Much To Do, So Little Time

Well, tomorrow's the big day. After four months of daily anticipation, the auditor is finally going to arrive. You'd think that during this four months i'd have had plenty of time to get everything ready for the audit to go smoothly, but the fact is, i still have more things to do than i have time to do them in. In a perfect world, i'd be able to go in to work today and have all the following done before i leave:

PS-2's and PS-20's.
All KF complete for all employees.
HIPAA training complete for all employees.
Last week's and this week's filing done.
The 2007 BOP inspection located and filed.
MCA/SCA efficiencies printed and filed.
The restricted area cleaned.
The unrestricted area cleaned.
My desk straightened up.
Wholesale training done.
The MSDS located for that bottle of ammonium acetate.
Q.C validations.

There's some more things that need to be done, but without my to-do list that i left at work, those're the most important ones i can think of off the top of my head.

The main problem i have is my pharmacists. They seem incapable of doing anything they consider to be "Tech work". So i have to devote unnecessary amounts of time daily to completing this "tech work" so that i can actually leave when i'm supposed to, and the things that i need to do to keep regulatory agencies happy tend to fall by the wayside because no one seems to care about them until the day before said regulatory agencies are due to arrive. Now my boss is all up my ass to get all this stuff that was taking the back burner to "tech work" done right the fuck now. Why can't anyone else see how little sense it makes to do things this way?

Friday, May 2, 2008

Sure, Blame It On The Fat Girl!

After reading another blog about farting problems, i remembered this one time i was at the movies, and i needed to pee really badly halfway through (surprise there, right? Me not being able to hold it all the way through a movie). So i hit the bathroom, opened the floodgates, yanked my pants back up, and dashed over to the sinks to wash my hands.

There was a girl already standing there primping in the mirror. She was petite, long-blond haired, thin, scantly clad, rather pretty, and completely aware of all this. I got done with my hands and opted to not receive the hand-dryer blowjob; i turned toward the door. She finished fucking around with her makeup about the same time and turned to leave at the same time as me. Before we hit the door, she paused, and blew this huge, loud, long fart! I mean, this thing was so big, i don't know where she was keeping it. Eh, it's the bathroom, pretty much the only socially acceptable place for any female to rip that kind of ass, so i didn't really think anything of it.

We emerged from the bathroom at about the same time and there were several teenage boys standing outside. They were staring at me with horrified looks on their faces, and i mentally paused, thinking i should've checked the mirror to see if i had anything on my face. Then it hit me. They think -I- dropped that loud-ass air biscuit! I looked at Little Miss Perfection walking out, and she looked serenely back at me. . . Almost like she'd planned it and was now enjoying the joke at my expense. I looked right at the boys and said, "Oh, sure, blame it on the fat girl!" Momentarily unsure, they looked at the cute girl. She looked at me all offended, like i'd just violated my duty as the Fat Girl to quietly accept responsibility for her anal explosion and stalked off. I don't think they really believed it was her, but the expression on her face was priceless.