And the headache lingers on….

I’m tired, what’s new? But I had a great weekend, with John here. Didn’t do a whole lot but work on his html class homework and head to the library yesterday for another assignment. The company was nice, and I do feel like we’re closer than before. Just…how he is around me now. Hard to really describe…it’s just different, in a good way. I’ll miss him, yes, but not so unbareable life will suck.

My eyes will stay open no longer…I can’t believe this, but I’m going to bed before midnight. I wonder if this will become a patttern.

I’m tired, it’s 2:19am and I need to be up at 5:30 to take a shower and get ready for work. Still, I keep typing. I just can’t get my body back on a normal schedule…well, set to the rest of the insane world, that is. It’s killing me. Only thing that keeps me going through the day is the free bottled water and Mt Dew that’s provided. That, and I’ve learned that if I don’t wear my watch I do great. Time goes buy a hell of a lot quicker because I only know what time it is when I replenish my drink or dash to the restroom (no clocks around here…need to check the one on the microwave).

InfoSpace is a great place, with more colors than I had imagined a workplace having. Bright, and color coded walls/areas. Not a white wall anywear I don’t think. Maybe in the bathroom? Not sure. Anyhow, even after this temp position is over, I know I’ll be checking their web site frequently to see if there are any available positions I actually qualify for. None at the moment. Oh, how I wish. What I’m doing isn’t the most fun thing, but when people thank me and say how much they appreciate it…that the last girl didn’t care and it was all messed up…make it work it. Really. I’m so anal and weird about things like this, I’m enjoying this mundane job. It’s nice to at least be there for people.

John is heading up tomorrow (today) so I’m pretty excited about that. I knew he’d show up…just didn’t really want to count on it. Tonight we talked a while and I almost hung up on him. Not that he made me mad. no no. I wanted to hang up on him because when I first heard his voice it did something to me, and I didn’t like that. Last thing I need are complications. Heh, seems like I hunt them down with a pitchfork.

He was downloading a couple songs, and I had to do some moves on my mind mentally to keep from attaching any specific meanings or insinuations from one of the songs. The less I jump into something the longer it works and fewer moments of chaos inside. And it’s only taken me how many mistakes to figure that one out? Note to self: must not cling; a non-clingy Alicia is a better Alicia. Oiy….

Poetry has been spurting from my pen tips lately. I just posted two poems on my Ramblings page,one written my first day at work on Tuesday…well, before, sitting in Starbucks on the main floor of the office building. The second one was written during lunch Wednesday as I sat alone in the lunchroom…that apparently is never used for eating lunches. Apparently plenty on my mind. Always happens with the stress and major changes.

Speaking of change, looks like I’ll be packing my stuff up and moving back in with my parents. This should be interesting to say the least. My clothes, computer and entertainment system will be coming with me, but everything else, to the storage it goes. My bed. I will miss my bed so very much. I spent hours putting it together…and it’ll probably take five minutes to tear its soul to pieces. Yeah, can’t wait. I’ll scream once I’m over this whole moving in with my parents thing. It’s not like they have a large house or even a small house. Sigh, must think positive, right? At least now I’ll be able to pursue some schooling next year. There ya go, a false sense of contentment. Hmmphf.

Ah, yes, finally a Napster for Mac…so I’ve found the song mentioned earlier and can’t help but listen to it. I’m a sucka like that. One more time around and then I’m finally searching for some, oh, three hours if I’m lucky sleep.

Well, progress. I start a temporary job at InfoSpace tomorrow. Should last a week to two weeks, and not what I’d like for pay ultimately, but it’s something. I’m looking forward to the casual dress code…very much so. Just across from the Bellevue Transit Center, talk about commute…I’ll be there in less time than my last place. Woo hoo!

Hmm, wonder if John’ll make it over here this weekend. He keeps mentioning “If finances allowe it” and I do know he has a lot of work for school…but there’s somethin in his voice…I have a strong feeling he’ll make it. Come on…he’s called me for days straight now…ya think? Not counting on it, but hey, some fun this weekend would be nice. And great company, too. Nothing like fighting over who’s paying the meter every two hours.

As noticed on this page in “Captain Underpants and the Perilous Plot of Professor Poopypants”, by Dav Pilkey: The evil Professor forces everyone to assume new names …. my name would be Stinky WaffleChunks. Lovely.

Oh wow. What a weird dream. I’m not going to argue about the damn good parts…but why did the the storyline have to move along? Sigh…been forever since I’ve had a dream I could remember so well…

I wonder if it has to do with the brief phone call I had from John before crashing. I don’t expect him to call…but I know he will now. He better be careful. He keeps this up…I might just consider him whipped as well.

There’s nothing quite like listening to Matlock and Randy Travis strumming and singing together. It brings back so many memories of sitting around the tv with my mom. The good ole country sound, though, is just…wonderful. Randy….he’s got it. I’ve seen him in a video recently and it’s a shame he’s showing his age. Great voice, that guy…I’m a sucker for him. (randy…not matlock)

Just spent some time reading over the past month of my life. Interesting. Makes me curious what people think when they read this stuff…and if anyone actually follow the story line, coming back every now and then. Can they see where this whole commentary on the Spokane dude is going, etc etc. Just funny thinking people actually would read this. I sound odd enough to myself….and that’s with a biased opinion, lol.

I listen to this song almost everyday. Tend to start my playlist in SoundJam with “Am I the One” by Beth Hart…and then listen to a few of hers before moseying down the list. Until now…I never really HEARD the song. Always enjoyed it, belted out the chorus when it came around. Even commented in my head how much she sounds or reminds me of Janis Joplin (that is definitely a compliment). Well, I heard the words today…and even with my last heart killer that sent me realing for a couple weeks, this song never affected me. Today, a few minutes ago…it did.

It’s funny, I don’t want to hear he loves me. Whoah, that’d be too much. Wouldn’t even expect that from anyone, and especially someone like him. Shoot, I don’t want love right now, just someone that’s there, someone I know cares about me, understands I’m human, need companionship in some way. Someone that maybe thinks of me when he’s doing his running around, maybe sitting bored in class, or when he’s jacking off while watching a porno. When a thought of someone creeps up when you’re busy, you hear a song (never fails, Macy Gray’s “I Try” brings the memory of riding in his truck, making fun of the song, laughing as we head up 45th), I think that’s good. Not too much to hope for, really.

I don’t want love right now. When I answered a quiz question “Do you believe in love” I truthfully selected “no”. I’ve spoken those words so many times in the past years I think I’m at the point to where I’m not even sure I know what that means. And I know I’ve said it when I didn’t mean it. I’ve also said it when I really did mean it. The question asked “Of those you’ve been with, how many were you in love with?” and I had to think about my answer. Three? Two? No, I’d say One. So there I was questioning my own feelings? I just don’t like the fact the feelings and emotions have been packaged into a single word “love” by society. What my “love” is may be completely different from someone else’s. Who’s to say? It’s that question everyone always asks “How do you know when it’s love?” and the reply is usually “you just know.” Well, why should it be love? What if love is the wrong thing for people? I even think that love…can be a burden, something to weigh a person down. Why surround yourself with a barrier that states how you feel/act/want?

Nah, love isn’t for me. I’m fine with smiling when I remember how I wouldn’t tell him I thought he looked good because he expected me to say it, so I waited until an hour later when he was sidetracked…and I got a smile from him. I like that the decision on whether or not we go to Hooters after the Hockey game is up to him…not me. Mostly…that no matter what happens, I have a good friend that listens when I’m upset, whiny, depressed, yet kicks me to get up and calls me a Jackass just when I need it. And dammit, he’s the first one to claim he’s “got it like that” and actually has it. Yup, I’m whipped, lol.

I’ll stop now. Need to leave the sappy alley and have some dinner. Wow, I’ve had a lot to say lately. Interesting. I wonder if my mind will be preoccupied with so many thoughts once I get a job. It’s somewhat refreshing though.

Yes, I’m still up. Ugh….been over 24 hours now. Yikes. I had this poem in my head, though. I started it while I was talking to my sister, wrote half of it while on the phone, and as soon as I finished my last Goober entry I finished the poem. Then, I typed it up, updated my Ramblings area with the new poem…then alphabetized them all. Oiy. Feeling much better now. The reason I had to get it up right away…this poem just spit itself out when I least expected it. No hesitation over the words, no cross-outs, no changes at all from first time my pen touched paper, to the last upload. That hasn’t happened in a couple years now. I suppose it takes the right subject, right time…

I figure he’ll never read it…doubt he even glanced at my web site. Would be nice to know he actually wondered what happening with me, but we DO talk often now, lol. Ah, shit, he considers me “whipped” now…and we joke about it…myself even. Make something that means much to me into something light, what people always do, right? He knows what I think. I’m sure he saw the change in my eyes the last visit. I at least felt a change in…him.

The sunrise was beautiful through my frosty 2×4 feet area of a window not covered by stinky bushes. Too much pink for me to imagine myself painting. I don’t do pink.

The past two days have been just too much. After the endless ringing in my ear I managed two hours of sleep before my dad showed up. So I finally get off my bum and go to take a shower…no fucking hot water. Lovely. I could hear them tinkering around, and I wasn’t even about to approach the idea of calling my apt manager about it. Last time I did that she brought it up in a later conversation and said I was all huffy and accusative. Whatever. Shoot, that woman’s hair looks like she is constantly plugged into an electrical outlet. Anyhow, no hot water. Scratch the shower. I pack my clothes, and I’m all ready, feeling grimy as ever. Teach me to put of a shower until the morning. Fuck. Really needing to brush my teeth, the 4AM snack still lingering on my taste buds I turn on the cold water. Nothing. Double Fuck. A 24 hour scowl took over my face and my dad and I were out the door.

Keep in mind, this is at 11:30. Much earlier than my usual awakening, let along stepping outside. The bus rides took longer than they used to…or so it seemed. I get to my parents’ place, immediately start separating my laundry. The whole purpose of the early trip was so I could leave that night instead of in the morning. I had a 9:30AM MRI appointment at the UW and did not feel like bussing at 8am with bags of laundry. Plan didn’t exactly happen as such. I was so tired I took a nap on my second load, slept until the baseball game (Yankees won, yippee skippy…even my Uncle was on my side, lol). I’d been craving the tacos my mom had promised, but how dare I forget that because I was in their place…not one moment of silence was allowed. UGH! I’m so used to being able to turn the tv or computer or radio off if they begin to annoy me or I want quiet. NOT there. Oh my, I probably sounded like a whiny spoiled brat. I’m told I’m not a whiner, but ugh…I could hear it myself. And, just now as I type this…I realized I didn’t even play the piano this visit…or the past one either. Not good. I need to at least keep it in my current knowledge somewhere. Oh, I miss that piano…such a beautiful sound.

Ok, wandered there. I believe I finished my laundry at a record time, by 10pm (my dad even let me watch Angel…I was very surprised with that…very. Figured he’d freak out about the Vampires and demons and all that stuff). A soak in a long lavender bath and a nice hot shower and I crash at another record time, 11:30pm. I didn’t sleep that well, though. The couch was comfortable enough, but I had to go to the bathroom three times. More annoying there, having to stumble up the stairs. Not fun. But I get up when my alarm goes off at 7:15am. Bus at 8AM and then a transfer at 8:18 down the road with my dad fretting about us missing it, blah blah blah. Drives me nuts, but I know that’s where I got a lot of my “have to make the bus” thoughts.

The most annoying part about the past two days was while we were at the second bus stop. Waiting in front of a Drive Thru Starbucks…trying not to gag on the burnt coffee beans fumes…this lady hurries up to another person waiting for the bus. She’s talking really fast, so I figure she’s asking for money for the bus or pay phone, something stupid like that. Next thing I know she’s telling my dad “Here” and she hands him a tract “we’re handing these out today……” and I cringe, trying to hide on the other side of the shelter. A Witness. A cheerful, perky lil thing of a Jehovah’s Witness…and my dad goes “That’s okay, we already have these.” When she looked at him funny he said “We’re Witnesses, too. Lake Forest Park Congregation.” She smiles, he smiles, as if they’re fucking long time buddies. God damn fucking hypocrite!!!!!! ARGH!!!! What pissed me off is that he said “we’re” including me. I haven’t been to a meeting in five years, recycled all my literature, and disagree with so many aspects of their beliefs I could go on for days. How dare he just state my claim for me? My heart jumped with joy when I saw the young man who’d been suckered into a tract toss it into the garbage can.

The bus ride home was sooooo long. Everything irritated and I could feel the lines from my scowl grow deeper every minute. I make it home in time to drop off my laundry, and check my messages, a call from John, belting out Hey Jackass! loudly enough for my dad to look at me with a question on his face, (call from John, nonetheless, woo hoo!). Then, out the door, and get on the 48 for a five minute ride to the UDub Hospital for my MRI, the 4th in the bi-polar study I’m participating in. All fine and dandy, minus the packed 48 that pulled up, the bus driver saying no more room, my saying I don’t think so and cramming on, a wheel chair getting on two stops later, me giving up on that bus, getting off figuring there’s another 43, 44 or 48 soon, having to wait longer than expected, and then my dumbass going down the wrong hallway and elevator once I finally make it.

Just on time, I make it to the Research MRI area in a hallway that would’ve worked great for the movie Disturbing Behavior. I was pretty excited…this meant a three hour nap for me as the machine went clang clang wrrrrrewrewr clang clang clang. Except it only went clang clang clang then kathunk. Down. And I had to leave, reschedule. Jeeze…if he wasn’t such a nice doctor and if it was even remotely his fault I would’ve screamed. But I didn’t. So much for the fifty bucks for that MRI…will have to wait.

I did manage to go home, get tons of work done on my resume, finally finished it to perfection and made numerous calls to temp agencies and return calls on some jobs. At least I was productive, right?

Then I went to a Pampered Chef party at Angela’s. Kitchen goodies. I am so in love with kitchen stuff it’s beyond healthy. Unfortunately…I’m always completely broke! And just when I needed their can opener, too. Sigh. But…I DID sign up to have a party of my own. lol. I just want the points so I can get as many free things as possible without having to pay. Plus, a cookie making party with appetizers…that’s two things I won’t have to make. Listen to me…a stubborn, fiesty, jackass that enjoys a good porny, loves hockey…and drools over the Fall/Winter 2000 Kitchen Showcase Catalog. Time for me to do something with my life, ya think?

Speaking of hockey, when I got in the door I had just enough time to log on to the Spokane Chiefs website and listen to the game against the Kamloops Blazers…or shall I say the announcer and his “five to three. Thank you for listening, we’ll see you again….” I had to wait until I heard from John to know who won! Thank goodness the Chiefs did…though I had no doubt. Now, they’re in 2nd! If they win the next game, they’ll be in 1st…many kudos to them. What a great team.

John…he never gets to call me because his roomy is on the phone until who knows when. We did pass a lot of the time by reading hilarious accounts of computer stupidity thanks to these great guys

I just realized I’ve missed my hour of Coach reruns. Drat. Apparently I did have something to say today. Yeah for me.

In trying to get this ringing in my right ear to stop, here I am, back in front of the computer again. And for once I was going to get to bed before 5am. Dammit.

Well, I found a quote here that I can’t agree with more.
And it’s not so much that I don’t like seeing the Cardinals lose. I expect that. It’s that I just can’t stand seeing the Mets win. *shudder*

Heh, I’m the same way. Besides that I just don’t like the Mets…throw in that Glendon Rusch (one of their pitchers) was never very nice to me in high school. Call it personal, whatever…I just don’t like him…so, it fits that he is on a team I can’t stand. Yeah, gotta love the logic there.

Ah, just when I thought the ringing, humming, whatever had stopped…it’s back. I’m going to attempt the couch for the next few hours…at least I’ll be able to turn the stereo on to drown the ringing out. I’m remembering way back when my sister worked for this guy named Leon (scary that I remember this, let alone his name) who always had classical music playing throughout his whole house because his ears constantly rang. Scary. This better fucking stop.

I’ve decided what I really need…and WANT to do is go back to school full-time. Not for four years, not even 2 years, really. I found a Web Development at the North Seattle Community College that really interests me. I like that not only are there courses on HTML, Flash and all that good stuff, but they have ones on UNIX, which I am just dying to learn. I really think it’d be good for me. Now, if I could just figure out how I’m going to manage it…

The best bet would be to get a good job now and save what I can to attend the January semester or actually the one after that. That is of course dependant on me getting a job. Heh. Yeah, that’s funny. I really am trying, sending out customized resumes and cover letters to an endless amount (around 100 by now) of companies. Still, no go. Anyone need a kick butt personal or department assistant? I won’t wait on you hand and foot, but I’ll use my coordinating and multi-tasking skills to accomplish all projects put in front of me. I’m also very experienced with Macs, with years of troubleshooting and usage. I may not know JAVA, CGI scripting, or DHTML, but I did learn HTML in two days and have a strong grasp of web page development. Plus, my knack for design and layout is something I was born with.

Yes, I’m blatantly attempting a sell of myself, but you have to start somewhere. Hey, I’ll even throw in a link to my resume. If I’m not what you’re looking for, but you think I might work for someone you know, pass my info on. Also, if you have any suggestions on my resume, please take the time to share them. I’d appreciate them very much.

Sigh…my quest is over. Donilyn and I will search for our Melody Pops no longer. And now…in bulk! Ah, the better to drive the pedestrians around Green Lake with.

I haven’t been so excited in a while! In flipping channels I discovered “The Pretender” on channel 22. AH, I’m in heaven! Wow…I KNEW someone had to be playing reruns somewhere…how could they not show one of the most amazing shows?! This is one happy woman.

I wonder where he is these days….

I’m horny. Could use some damn good loving right now. But more than anything, I just like to have him in my apartment, his presence. I don’t care if he’s in the other room, or watching tv, whatever. He just has that way…damn him. All I can think is I am SO very glad I am not drunk and completely wasted off my ass because I can tell…if I’m close to sending him a message now about him being on my mind…I don’t even want to know what my mind would create if I was. Scary thought. Better crash before I do anything…

My first reaction when I stumbled upon this site of artwork was anger. All I could think was, this isn’t ART? it’s not detailed, all messy, and why does HE get the publicity and fame when he’s not any better than I am? And then I though, well, ok, everyone’s definition of art is different, true…but then I was annoyed, because here he was, an artist, yet probably the only reason it’s such a big deal that he became known was because of his disibility. Then…I was appalled by how greedy and selfish and close minded those thoughts were. The reason I’m so upset…is because I know I don’t have the dedication to actually follow through with a career as an artist. Or painting for the public, so to speak. Shit, I can’t even finish a painting when I want to do it just for myself, to fill up the void on my blank wall.

It hurts, though. I look at my painting of a woman, almost done…yet sitting there because I’m so critical and a perfectonist that I won’t say it’s done. Yet, if this guy were to claim it was done…it’d be done. Because it looks like his style, sloppy, thrown on the canvas…but if I were to try and sell this? Nothing…but laughs. I’m sure of it. What the fuck is up with that? When I was in “art school” (that was a crock) I didn’t do well in a class because I was drawing too detailed. HELLOOOOO?!?!?! I mean, if some freak can get away with painting a whole damn canvas in white and get tons of mulah for it, why can’t my laborous hours over a canvas be noticed. So what if it’s realistic…no giant splotches here, splashes there and unfinished shadows everywhere. I swear, I’ll get someone to buy a painting…I’ll get me a damn display or gallery…show them little fuckers out there that think they can just toss paint on, not fill out the eyes, a titled D for a mouth and let it be.

Yes, I’m bitter. Fuck. If I wasn’t so upset I’d go to bed now. Why does this matter so much to me?

AARRRGH!!!!!! Maybe I’m just extremely irritable today. Or maybe I’m tired of hearing Country artists on the pop radio stations. Yuck. I have this thing…if they’re playing your song on a pop or easy listening station…you’re not true fucking Country. The only reason I didn’t just change the station when Faith Hill’s “The Way You Love Me” came on is because I’m too lazy. Shania Twain, Faith Hill,…don’t claim to be Country when the only thing in common with Country music is that your name sounds like a dixie chick, or you’re married to a male country star.

John Michael Montgomery, George Straight, Jo Dee Messina, Randy Travis, and my favorite, Michael Peterson…are all TRUE Country artists. They may have thrown in some attitude these days, yet they haven’t left the honest sound behind. No pathetic “I just got a drum machine for Christmas” drumming and instrumental; the guitar still lives, the fiddle and harpsichords even thrive. Hah. I bet half those listening to Shania (the newer stuff…her “Old School” songs still had it in 95) don’t even know what one is, or couldn’t pick it out of the song.

Take the fame, whatever, but I’m not the only Country music fan that is annoyed with the sudden boom of “pop”ularity. Personally, I think it’s the only way for Faith to stay above ground without her amazing husband Tim McGraw taking over the spotlight. Oh wait…I forgot…she had just about disappeared until they got married. How funny.

Jackass. Yes, I’m referring to myself. Ugh, I don’t believe it…feel like a complete idiot. I put the wrong name when I was referring to this
link on my Idiocy page.. Yeah, what an error, I know…but to use a name of someone I am trying so hard to discard? Ouch. as Bartok would say, “that was a keeker.” I think that’s it for the Sudafed and caffeine and chicken noodle soup week.

Speaking of chicken noodle soup, I am quite proud of myself. I successfully made myself a pot of soup…from scratch. Well…pretty damn close. I didn’t have chicken parts, so I cheated with canned broth and canned pieces of white chicken meat. I also added cut up carrots and cellery and some egg noodles I just love. Oh yeah, and a little corn starch to thicken the broth a tad. Mmmm mmmm mmm, was it gooooood. A few differenct spices and it kicked the ass of any Cambell’s or Progresso soup. Kicked might butt. Damn, I’m good.

Yankees won!! (again)

Now all you idiotic Mariner fans can take those stupid blue foam M thingies off your damn heads. Please. You’re annoying the piss out of me.

Amazing, I started a painting last night (early this morning actually) and almost finished it. Soon as I finish this I’ll be adding the lighter color and then wahlah, new painting for my wall. Woo hoo! Maybe I’ll even start working on the long-time unfinished “goth bitch” painting I’ve been working on forever. Ya gotta do what ya gotta do to pass the time. Nothing else interests this sick girl. (I have laryngitis…what fun)