P.S.


My life is rated NC-17.
What is your life rated?

Why is my life rated NC-17? Because if nipple on nipple action between women is shown on TV, the show gets an automatic "Mature" rating. And because I only enjoy nipple on nipple action from another woman as well as various other things from only women, my life is rated "Mature".

Don't get your hopes up. I don't have a porno out there, and, I never intend to. The show is only meant for me and the woman I'm with.

And don't believe everything you see; women in porn screwing around with each other is totally fake. Lesbians often rent that stuff for a good laugh. Even the fags know it's fake.

Goodnight Everybody!!!!

Another day at my sup pay.

The prods still walk up to me to find out what's going on.

And he's still clueless.

Still tossing the Crobar night in my head. It's either that or bowling with my coworkers. Either way, I'm off Monday, so, I'll have time to recover. Problem is with bowling, I'd have to find my way home. Ick. I could always call my brother if I am too shitfaced, but, I'd prefer the Crobar night instead. $20 cover, if I can only find out if it's worth it. There's also pool Friday night with my online group, but, I can't do all three.

People would be buying me drinks at bowling night, though.

Decisions, decisions.

My friend D's grandmother got admitted to the hospital a couple of days ago, so, I'm anxious to see what will happen. At 96, I'm sure it's a lot, but, I always hope for the best.

I've been having a hard time sleeping the past couple of nights. I've been waking up from strange dreams. Dreams of being chased or choked, floating away from the earth and wandering in dark, muddy gloom.

My session with my therapist had a bit of humor in it. She asked me if I have spoken to my ex, to which I said "no", simply because I haven't.

She then asked about a hypothetical situation. Shrinks love this.

Dr. - "What if you found out that she has already moved on, and, has another girlfriend?"

Me - "Well, first I would into shock, because I feel that she is more mature than getting herself into a 'rebound' relationship. Then I would laugh because I know that she is being insecure, and it would just be too ridiculous to not laugh at. Then I would want to smack her. Not to vent anger, but disappointment at her being so selfish as to suck someone else's heart and soul dry to heal her own."

Then my therapist dropped some news. Turns out that my ex's company cut jobs sooner than expected. I think my therapist was talking about my ex's boss, the one who referred me to her. Ouch. I hope that she has her employers mixed up. I really do. My ex spent over six months trying to find a good job with bosses that weren't assholes. She finally finds one, and, look what happens. I really, really hope she still has a job.

We finished the session with her asking me if I missed my ex. No, I don't miss my ex.
I do miss the feeling of being loved, the warmth it gives you, like a security blanket that protects you from all the bad stuff in the world, and, if some of it just happened to sneak in, you always have someone to run to, someone that can kiss the boo-boos and make them feel better. Someone who, with a kiss can make you smile again and with a touch, can heal all the wounds that the world around can inflict.

Someone who, when you are in their arms can make you stronger than you have ever felt before. Someone who can have such an effect on you, that you feel them near even if they are miles away.

I need to stop otherwise I'm going to feel compelled to write a cheesy ass romance novel.

I guess what I am trying to say is that I miss the feeling, not the person. Hence the laughing, the shock and the smack. Smack as in hand to face action, not drug use.

Love you all!

Okay, so, here I am again.

I finally got in to see my shrink, and, we played catch-up with my work situation. More shock and surprise from her.

She dropped the hint of going back to school again. I'm workin' on it lady, I'm workin on it. Sheesh.

Day three of working with the new sup, and, he couldn't hold water if he was a dry sponge. That guy can't retain anything.

I will post more later. I'm still getting used to the 6am's and working five days in a row. It is cool to have Friday and Saturday off though.

I would pay $1000 to see D'onofrio and Walken act together. If I had it.

Well, I'm posting this because Law & Order:CI was a rerun, although the episode was still very brilliant. I was and still am knocked over by Vincent D'onofrio's performance. It feels like the part was written for him.

It never will take the place of Mariska Hargitay though. Ah, Detective Olivia Benson will forever be in my heart. Although I do have to give Chris Meloni credit. In the first season of the show, he did a couple of scenes with his on-screen wife in his undies. The guy's got balls, I'll give you that.

Well, our new sup decided to make an appearance after all. We sat in the conference room several times during the day and talked about stuff.

Dude knows nothing about merchandising. Shocking.

Looks like I'll be in charge of that aspect of the biz until this guy learns. Half of the ops team is still pissed about what happened.

Too boot, this choice of supervisor gets very interesting. Turns out that he didn't fill out a application of the position; he just got a phone call from one of the managers to come on over.

Even better, apparently this guy is a favorite of our department manager, and, is a brother in law of my previous manager. And has sucked a lot of ass in his short career here. Fun stuff.

One of the ops team leaders put it best; she said that the previous supervisor never got the department past the letter "A", yet I was able to get it past "M" on the alpha scale. She then asked me what was going to happen to the guy if he didn't get the department up to speed.

The same thing that happened to me. Or, maybe if he kisses the right ass, he'll get bailed out.

Politics are a huge part of our company, unfortunately. More so than most.

Later.

I'm back to somewhat stable schedule again.

Most people don't like having to work at 6am, but, I do. I usually get out at 2, and, if it's a nice day, I get to enjoy the rest of it. One of my favorite pastimes is walking out the front door, taunting all the people who have to close. Especially during late spring and early fall. Never summer or winter; either too hot or too cold, the weather's usually crappy by then.

It wasn't supposed to rain today, but, then again, when have weathermen ever predicted the weather accurately.

I called one of my brothers last night. Turns out that if I had called him earlier, he would have given me a ride to Transit. Something tells me however, I would have ended up finding my own way home. Not a good idea from Ashland & Lake.

Anyways, I turned down an invite to go out tonight. I haven't worked a 6am shift in over a month, so, I need to readjust.

I'm preparing myself to go to Crobar on May 2nd, when members of the cast of Queer as Folk is supposed to make an appearance. Crossing my fingers.

Other than that, not much else.

Just checking in I guess.

I'm sure that I will have something to say later. If not, then tomorrow.

One more thing.

Something tells me this is for real.

The really scary part?

I'm sure that there is some idiot buying it as a "gag" gift for a friend.

Never buy a gag gift that can make you buying it the gag.

Friends don't let friends do stupid shit. Well, at least without warning them first.

I just want to say that this little piece of SH*T is not only a waste of real space, but, has now aspired to be a waste of cyberspace as well.

DIE!!!!DIE!!!!DIE!!!!

Antibiotics have another wonderful side effect on me as well. I go from regular bitch to SUPER BITCH!!!!

I'm still trying to call the dermatologist. The one with the weird hours. Weird, fucked-up hours.

Thanks for the invite. I'm sure that you will appreciate it if I wanted a few more days for the Super Bitch to leave town.

My one bro called my mom's line and asked if we wanted to meet up with him and his twin at Transit for their B-Day party there. Yeah, I'll be runnin' on down there, oh say, never.

Anybody who's gotten lost trying to get back home from the United Center knows exactly what I am talking about. I went to UIC for three years. I know that area.

Oh, yeah. I can definitely see my mom just eager to join them. A fifty year old woman trying to make herself at home with a bunch of 20 to 25 year olds. Yeah, I can so see that.

Yes, it is almost one in the morning, and, I am off to bed. I'll write either tomorrow night or Saturday, since I have no plans.

My apologies for not writing on my blog on Sunday like I said I was going to.

Unfortunately, sometime between Saturday night when I went out (which was awesome! Thanx D!) and when I woke up on Sunday morning, the stupid "rash" that originally haunted me during the holidays had returned.

I got around to seeing my doctor on Monday morning. She prescribed antibiotics to help with the infection, but, only gave me 14 days worth. Between her and the "Jr" doctor, they couldn't decide where to send me.

They went off into a room somewhere before deciding that I should be sent to a dermatologist. If I didn't know any better, I could have sworn they flipped a coin.

"Okay, so, 'heads" it's an infectious disease specialist. 'Tails', it's a dermatologist."

"GO!"

Poor "Jr" doctor, he spent almost five minutes trying to get the rubber gloves on. Geez, even the actors playing cops on TV get those things on faster than he did. And thank God is was rubber gloves and not a condom.

He's standing there fumbling with the damn thing. She gets up and says "listen, honey...I'm gonna go and clean the kitchen while you figure that thing out."

Three hours later, she asleep and he's still trying to figure the damn thing out.

I asked him if they offered a class in "Putting on Rubber Gloves" in med school. He replied, "no". They should.

Whatever.

I just tried to call this doctor about two hours ago. Around 2pm. Got a lovely message that went something like this;

"Hello, this is Dr. ---'s office. The office is closed. Our office hours are Mondays, Wednesdays and Saturdays from 7am to 9am, when most people are either still asleep, getting ready for work, or are already on their way to work, slamming on their horn, cursing the granny in the GEO Metro going 40 mph in the left lane. Tuesdays and Thursdays, we are here from 8pm until midnight, when most people are either sleeping, finishing that big project for work, or, trying to get their kids to shut up and go to sleep. We keep both the Hebrew and Christian Sabbaths, so, we're closed both Fridays and Sundays."

"If this is a medical emergency, please take your dumb ass to the nearest hospital and talk to somebody who cares. If you are unable to transport yourself to the nearest hospital, hang up the phone fuckface, and, dial 911. This doctor's office does not have a magic carpet to fly you to the ER, idiot."

"Have a nice day."

What?!?!?!?!?!

Okay, maybe it's really not like that, but, that's kinda what it feels like, isn't it?

I loved the end of the visit the most. I asked the poor "Jr" doctor if I could have some gauze, wrap and tape for my toe. They always like to take the wrapping off to stare at the freakish marvel my toe has become; doctors often refer to this as an "examination".

I always love it when they do that. They take the gauze and wrap off and go "ooo, wow, oooohhh" along with varying other sounds that they force out of their body at that point. People please, if patients wanted humorous color commentary along with their illnesses, there would be a clown college attached to every fucking medical school in the country. C'mon already. I don't want sound effects with my condition, I want you to fix it and make it go away forever!

And God help us if there was ever a real emergency in a general practitioner's office. The first time I saw my doctor, she just handed me the gauze and wrap and said that I should do it myself. "I'm not going to do it as well as you did."

Again........

What?!?!?!?!?!

It's like when you hear about the different doctors in the same operation; one doctor cuts and finds, another operates, another closes up the wound, a head nurse binds it and ensures that it's protected well. Don't forget about the anesthesiologist.

Sorry, if it seems like a bit much, it's because I come from the school of "Finishing What You Started".

Or "Starting What You Intend to Finish". Either one.

Okay, now that I've ranted enough about that, unfortunately this lovely condition also made my foot swell up. I couldn't get it into a shoe, so, I had to call in sick Sunday and Monday. I'm stuck wearing my white gym shoes until Friday; then I can buy black ones. Dress codes suck.

I think I also shot my chance to work at the downtown store to shit. The manager never called me back, and, I sent him an email that he never responded to. Ouch again. I also had to postpone my two interviews.

The good thing is I survived my first day back to work, despite one of the wonderful side effects of my antibiotic kicking in; nausea. I took breaks that in total probably lasted longer than my lunch break.

Oh, yeah, and the new sup has made his presence known in the worst way possible; spying on my staff. He would come in and pretend to be a customer, then after contact with one employee, he would belittle the entire staff saying, "None of you know what you are doing. You don't know your jobs." Then he would storm out.

Word has gotten to me that he has also started knocking me. It's pissing my staff off. Royally.

Dig your own hole, asshole. Then dig yourself out. Asshole.

Other than that, nothing much has been happening.

Still single. Still happy to be single. Funny thing is I haven't seen my therapist in a month, and, I don't miss a thing. But, in my alone time, things come up that I know that I need to deal with, and, only with her help.

I see her again next week. I'm sure that I will have a laundry list for her by then.

The top two things;

1) Hair pulling - my mother's favorite past-time with me when I was a child - the big reason why I haven't grown my hair out yet

2) What I think is the final facet of my coming to terms with me being molested when I was a child; I think....


There'll be a number three and four by next Monday, I'm sure.

I feel like I've neglected this blog, like a child in need of some personal attention from their parent.

I can't write too much now, my friend D is on the way to get me for another night of dinner, drinks, and maybe some dancing. It may the be last for a while.

I do have an interview at the downtown store for a position that would guarantee my current hourly rate with a little less responsibility. Rock!!

C'est la vie.

I will write more tomorrow. For sure.

Well, after another weekend of nothing (my friend D's current gf "surprised" D with a visit to town this past weekend), work again launched.

Rumours are spreading like wildfire as to who the new sup will be, but, I could give too shits. I laughed after I overheard a conversation between our new asshole SM and the "potential" replacement.

"It's all about leadership, man. It's all about leadership."

Oh yeah, genius. The dumb leading the blind. It's all about "leadership" man. It's definitely even more about leadership when the new "leader" doesn't know his asshole from a hole in the ground when it comes to the merch guidelines in my department.

He'll be the laughing stock of the department when he sets foot in it. Geez.

Whatever. I have two interviews and a soon to be delivered email that will get me out of this mess. I hope.

$4 an hour. Totally legal. Why? Because I'm stepping down from a "leadership" position to a full time spot.

Assholes.

I can't wait until somebody steps your ass down.

A guy at work asked me about "The L Word" the other day.

"Oh, you mean the straight man's porn show?"

Even he laughed. He looked at me and said "Even I know those aren't real lesbians."

I interjected.

"Now, now. I will say in their defense that there are women like that in lesbian bars. We lesbians have a term for them. We call them 'straight". "

"Or, if they leave with somebody, curious."

To which he laughed.

I hope somebody from that show is reading this. Even the straight guys aren't buying the shit you're trying to sell. Change your tune. Or at least your characters.


And the rats are already leaving the ship before it sinks.

Well, after chatting with everybody on my staff that I worked with tonight, they either want to cry or quit.

Ouch.

Good or bad? I don't know.

I'll be getting a four dollar an hour pay cut, which means that I need to find a good paying job fast, or, I'll be working part time someplace else.

I did get a phone call from Home Depot the other day........

The whole fiasco with work will definitely put my plans of moving out on hold til next year. It will also be putting my search for work into overdrive. I've sent out at least 5 applications on Monster alone each day since Tuesday. I got a phone call earlier today from one of the places I checked out studios at. One of the ads that say they "start" at $425, which I would have been able to swing until my pay cut, and when I asked about the studios "from" $425, she said that it must have been a misprint, because the cheapest studio she had was $500.

Once I explained to her that I saw this same ad in both a weekly publication and the web, she insisted on the "misprint" excuse. I told her that she needed to fix that before somebody sues her for fraud.

Whatever.

Yes, it's 3am, and, I'm not sleepy. I have to be up to do laundry later before I go out.

Ick.

Okay, so, Tuesday evening, my GM and my new manager took me into the conference room and gave me the "talk". Basically, the GM said that he has no confidence in my ability to lead the department to better "rankings". Even though I haven't worked with my new manager yet. Even though I sent emails to my old manager about the write-ups in his mailbox, all the while copying the GM.

Whatever, nutfuck. I agreed to continue being the supervisor until they find a replacement, which will be never. I've given the department some of the best and consistent rankings it's seen in over two years. As in the last time I was at that store.

I'll be spending the next couple of days doing nothing but applying for a shit load of jobs.

I'll be calling my brothers as well to see what they can do for me.

If my pay gets cut deep enough, I won't be able to afford this apartment anymore. I'll have to move either way.

Interesting.

Stalker girl is only part time. Thank God for that.

Actually, it wasn't that bad. I walked into work, and, nothing blew up. A couple of small things fell apart, but, nothing major. Sweet.

My schedule is all screwy again. Looks like I'll be working midshifts from now on. Sweet for Friday nights, though. I'll be able to go out. WOOHOO!

There was one really big shitty thing that happened though.

Stalker Girl re-niged on her notice.

SHIT-TAY.

I'm going to start studio hunting on Wednesday.

Later.

Okay, so, it's the last day of my vacation, and, what am I doing?

Nothing.

Just the way I like it.

Nothing of interest has happened over the past several days, other than the air valve in my front passenger side tire needing to get replaced. It's always fun to go out to your car and find a flat tire. Even more fun when you have to call AAA to get the damn thing off so that you can get the spare on. Stupid.

More fun still when you go to the neighborhood gas station, and, you have to wait because there are three other people ahead of you that need to get their tires fixed.

Good thing is I ended up getting a free brake inspection. Turns out I'll need to replace my front brake pads soon. If I don't blow up the car first.

My mom asked me the other day if I was still moving out. I told her yeah.

Living with a bipolar obessesive compulsive going through menopause is such a nurturing environment to live in, right?

Ugh.

I've heard nothing from the three people that I handed out my resume to at the job fair. Then again, it was going until this weekend throughout the state. If anybody's interested, hopefully they'll contact me next week.

Speaking of next week, my mom will be out of town with her bf. They are off to Vegas. Thank God. It's getting to the point that even my therapist is saying that it's better than a vacation.

Other than that, nothing else. I'm sure that it will be a very long report tomorrow.

Don't forget to change your clocks one hour ahead.