Wow, That's My Tagline Too!
Stephanie: Quiet. Sophisticated. Refined. But make no mistake, when pushed, [she] will respond.
I Have a New Addiction...Bwahahahaha!
Actually, this one is not wholly unhealthy, like my yarn addiction (see my other blog to see the extent to which that sickness has spread). No, this one is to an Internet radio station. I have RealAudio at work and I've discovered Radio Paradise. It is an 'eclectic' station. 90% of it is either what is euphemistically called 'Singer/Songwriter' (or, in plain English: without a honking big/loud band, usually folk-like, accompanied usually by a piano, guitar and/or drums--not much more), or alternative music. There's a lot of really good music by musicians and/or bands that a) I've never heard of, b) heard of, but never heard anything by, or c) heard of, and heard only the one or two singles released to commercial radio stations. They are currently playing Toad The Wet Sprocket (ahem, Kathryn?). I've heard several things by Gomez, The Shins (popularized recently by Garden State), Norah Jones, Tom Petty, Elvis Costello, Peter Gabriel (they love him!) and lots of people I don't know. It's quite awesome, actually. [I should mention that the other 10% or so of music is country-ish sounding, and then I just ignore it. 90% is a pretty good percentage of the time to play good music; I can forgive the rest.]
Apparently, Jenny, church calendars do go up that high. The reason our date (June 10, 2006) was selected was that I called the church, gave them some idea of when we were thinking of getting married, they gave me some options, we gave them to the rector's assistant (because we really want him to officiate) and he selected that date because it worked for him. He was already booked on the other alternate dates. Yes, in 2006. His calendar is already being booked, this far in advance.
I have a migraine today. Not any fun at all. This time I'm seriously considering knitting myself an eyepatch. I hate wearing my sunglasses in the office because people look at me like I'm completely insane, but it sure is bright in here! (I realized while writing this, of course, that an eyepatch is equally--if not more--likely to draw unwanted attention than sunglasses. Hmmm, just can't win.) I've been popping non-Rx pills recommended to me by another migraine sufferer (Excedrin Tension Headache). They help take the edge off (just), but don't get rid of it. So in general I just feel yucky. Sore head, faint nausea, upset tummy. Typical symptoms of the migraine.
Because I am a lover of sappy things, last night I watched Kevin Hill on UPN. I like Taye Diggs, and the saccharine-y storyline appealed to me: single (ladykiller), successful lawyer inherits dead cousin's baby girl and life is turned upside down. I'm in! Naturally his high-powered job wouldn't work with his new priorities, so Kevin quit his job and ended up working with an otherwise all-female law firm--because, of course, women would much better understand his need to spend time with his new family than the men he worked with previously. And, of course, his first case pitted him against his old firm--because there are only two law firms in all of Manhattan. It don't hurt none that Taye Digg's is purty. And built, baby! Er, but...I'm watching it because of the storyline. Besides he has a snarky gay nanny. Hel-lo!
I also watched the second half of last night's episode of Lost on ABC (first half mysteriously did not tape on The Boy's VCR). Sooo good. I'm totally sucked in. I'm very glad that this Saturday they are re-airing eps 1&2 to pull more viewers in--I'll get to see the first 1/2 of last night's show. There's something menacing on the island and they don't know what it is. Yay!
And the last of my gluttionous TV evening was the new Law & Order. So far I realllllly don't like Dennis Farina's character--what an ass. But Jesse L. Martin's hot, the stories are still good and I trust that Dick Wolfe knows what he's doing.
Okay, now I'm just babbling. I'm going to go now. Good thing that my job doesn't require me to stare at a bright computer 8 hours a day! No...wait....D'oh!
So...Yeah. Save The Date, 'kay?
You may have noticed the new addition to the top of my menu bar. Yep, The Boy and I have set a date: we will be getting married on Saturday, June 10, 2006. Most probably at 1 p.m. And it's only 620 days away. However will I get everything done in time??
Sucky and Lame
Warning: neurotic and self-pitying post to follow!
I'm not a happy girl today, so I'm not going to blog much. I'm inexplicably depressed and angsty. I have a lot of work to do and am feeling a little overwhelmed. About a week ago a very nice guy at work asked me for my opinion on something he's doing, and somehow I became the de facto team leader on a project that has nothing whatsoever to do with my job and is taking up a tremendous amount of my time. So, yeah.
Plus -- and here's the self-centered part -- I'm feeling really lonely. I mean, I have The Boy who loves me lots, but I feel like I don't really have any friends right now. Sort of like they got bored with me. I'm sure it's not true, but I guess I can't help how I feel--of course it could all be a result of the depression, too. It's pathetic, and I almost didn't post this.
Never mind me. It's just the blues. Blah.
It started with a simple affection for counting and the terror it induced in others, didn't it? But now it's turned into a full-blown life-consuming chaotic nightmare of order, repetition, zealousness, and perfectionism. You used to be so grand, but now you find yourself obsessively worrying over the littlest things--like, maybe if you don't check the light switch at least once every two minutes, the electricity will go out (and dammit, you're a vampire--that shouldn't be a problem!), or maybe if you don't wash your hands until your seams are coming out, you'll get some fatal disease. Get yourself some treatment.
I Am The Count's Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder
(Hmm...I wonder why saying that statement makes me hear Ed Norton in my head? "I am Jack's wasted life")
Which Sesame Street Muppet's Dark Secret Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
So...are you Cookie Monster's Bulimia Nervosa? Elmo's Transvestite Crackwhore Past? Bert & Ernie's Gay Love Affair? Do tell!
W Is For Women?!?!
If you're a) female, and b) anti-Bush, you should like this T-shirt from wisforwomen.org (Stitchin' Sedition). So many great shirts out there! If only I had loads of money to buy them all!!
Ian Says Hello, and Be Good!
I Wonder If The Boy Would Let Me Buy These?
I AM ENGAGED!
At long last, I am officially off the market! Woo-hoo. Oh, and I'm not alone in this endeavor. The Boy was integral to this new phase of my life!
Yesterday, as you no doubt know--because I am super-important and the center of all--was my birthday. The Boy took me out to a nice dinner at El Torito (ole!). I love me the Mexican food, so that was a nice start. Then we went down to the Belmont Shore area of Long Beach and walked around the beach. We had reservations 'somewhere' at 8 p.m., so I didn't know the details.
At about 7:45-ish we headed over to the gondola rentals in Naples (man-made island, I believe, with little canals that you can travel down--by gondola, as it turns out), laden down with two bags of gifts for moi! We boarded our gondola with girly wine (the best kind--Arbor Mist strawberry white zinfandel) and cheese & crackers in hand. And two bags of gifts. For me! My favorite way to start an evening.
The Boy poured us some wine, we toasted and then he started rummaging in the bags for gifty goodness. He handed me a little gift first--a $30 Barnes & Noble gift certificate. Yippee! Then a big shoebox-size/shaped gift full of fabulosity from Kenzo. My favorite perfume, Flower, corresponding body wash and mini travel body wash and gel. Yikes! Those treats don't come cheap! I'm so spoiled.
Then I got my birthday card, saying that we'd come to the end of the presents portion of our evening. I was confused, because we still had a gift bag to go. So then The Boy pointed out the postscript on his card--"Ask your S.O. about the other gifts". I looked at him, he reached into the little bag and pulled out...a ring box. [Sigh]
My first reaction was, "Is this what I think it is?" The Boy just smiled and told me to open the box. Now, The Boy had helpfully been using a little mag-lite to help me see each gift as I opened it (it's dark out there in the canals), but suddenly he turned it off. I was all, "Umm, honey, I won't be able to see without the light". He told me just to open it up. When I did a little light wired to the hinge or something came on, and this little spotlight shone down on my bee-yoo-ti-ful ring. Mine! I immediately started crying.
Then my sweet Boy tried to get down onto one knee in this itty bitty little space that we had for our legs in the front of the gondola. He banged his shin on the hull (?? I know nothing about boats) and ended up in a sort of half-crouched position as he asked me to marry him. [Sigh] Could a girl ask for more than this?
A little while later we started talking about the circumstances surrounding the engagement, and how he'd tried to throw me off the track (and succeeded!) so that I wouldn't know that he was going to propose (I didn't, not for sure). We laughed, got congratulated by our gondolier, and smiled and laughed some more. I don't think I've stopped smiling since.
After the proposal, The Boy had me open a second card that he'd picked out and which he'd had my parents and littlest sisters sign congratulating me--and in which the girls asked if they could be flower girls. Fresh tears were a-flowin'! One of the ladies at work told me that she doesn't think my feet are even on the ground today, and another commented that she's never seen me smile so much. Ahhh, can you blame me?!
And now for the brass tacks, for those who will ask: this is what my ring looks like. Total carat weight is 1.07 cts--center is .60 cts round-cut + .47 cts channel set, round-cut diamonds. Of course, it's prettier in person than the picture will have you believe (though it is pretty there!). It's white gold and absolutely perfect. I have a lot of trouble taking my eyes off of it. On the way to work I was enjoying how the sunlight came in my window and refracted off of the center stone, creating a light show on the steering area. That's when I missed the light turning green and angered everyone behind me. Oh well. :)
Oh, and the other gift bag also yielded gifts from Robbins Bros.--a copy of the warranty, a $50 gift certificate toward a wedding band, a simply enormous wedding planning binder, a CD-ROM...lots of stuff.
So, friends of mine, in only 21 months or so, I'll be getting married to the greatest Boy ever. Save the date! Heh.
An Open Letter to Children Everywhere
Do yourself a favor, and don't be too eager to grow up. Enjoy your youth. Get a hobby and spend hours and hours doing it. Watch TV and movies. Spend time with your friends. Go on all those boring family vacations and enjoy the world beyond your immediate surroundings.
Why, you ask, am I enouraging you to make the most of your youth? Because it will all be over soon enough.
I'm telling you right now, adulthood is not all it's cracked up to be. Most days I see my cubicle for more time than I see my apartment, and spend more quality time with my computer monitor than my boyfriend (although, my monitor is a 21" LCD flat panel, so we have our good times...). There are the bills, and the responsibilities and the jobs that you can't just up and leave because of those same bills and responsibilities. Then there are the good jobs with the impossible people. Sometimes you're even lucky enough to get one that's good in all these categories, but you still don't want to spend 2/3 of your life there; you want to see your friends or family or cat. You want to knit, read, play games, or sleep. And you can't.
Sometimes you spend hours and hours on a project that gets thrown out two days later. Sometimes you spend practically no time at all on the project that gets the most recognition. But regardless of which of these you wind up with, nobody is going to put a gold star on your work and send you home early. There are days when you intensely dislike everyone around you and want nothing more than to sleep the day away in solitude. But you can't forge your mother's signature on a note to get you out of work.
Even though they pay you to do these jobs, it never feels like enough, even when it is. It's really easy to get caught up in the negativity and nit-pickiness of the few and miss out on the kind-heartedness and the consideration of the many. So then you have to work even harder still to remind yourself that you are blessed with work and a valuable, functioning member of society.
Yeah....so....enjoy being a kid. Have fun! Make the most of your summer breaks and school holidays 'cause (unless you're a teacher) you don't get any after graduation. Stop rushing to grow up so fast. Don't worry about makeup and fashion statements and plastic surgery (for God's sake!). Bask in the sun, play in the snow, nap on the grass. Play with your dolls or cars or legos. BE A KID. It's the most fun you'll ever have.