If you can't say anything nice...

So I've been hanging out with somebody from another department at work. At first I thought he wasn't interested, but now I realize he might be. This is a problem because I've though he was smart, funny, and attractive for a while, but only kind of in the abstract. Now that we've spent more time together, I've turned into a complete idiot. OMFG, phone.

Okay, you know what's crazy? My caller ID said X Department, which is where this guy works. I think my heart stopped for a second. But it wasn't him. It was just somebody calling to thank me for my help with something.

Anyway. I can't remember the last time I was so junior-high ditzy about a boy. I was going to ask him to coffee, but he totally asked me first. I was going to ask him out for a drink today, but he ran off to a meeting and I forgot to get his phone number. I mean, I have his work phone number and emails, but he stops by to see me so often that I haven't needed to call. Even though I love the emails, I prefer propositioning men in person or on the phone. I have manners, you know.

Correction: -20F. What the hell?

I'm obsessed with the temperature. Now -18F. Weather channel says it "feels like -36F."

Tonight is another cold one. -14F!

Friday night I was at at friend's house. After everbody was good and drunk, her husband boiled some water and threw it out the back door. Boiling water turns to ice crystals on contact with air below zero. Crazy. It was party science, like when we were in junior high and would go in the bathroom with the lights off and crunch wint-o-green life savers to see them spark.

I've been inside my house all day Saturday and Sunday and I'm starting to get cabin fever. The problem is facing the air outside. My face and lips chap on contact. At least it's a good excuse to wear three cashmere articles of clothing at the same time. And it makes coffee and necessary purchase. What I wouldn't give for a balmy 50 degree and rainy afternoon!

It's -15F here and tomorrow could get as cold as -22F. What the fuck have I gotten myself into? I don't think I'm leaving the confines of my down duvet at all tomorrow. It's been cold for months, but this is getting really bad. If I get ambitious, I might go into town and buy the winter boots I desperately need. Ballet flats and kitten heels are just not cutting it.

So, I have a nasty cold and I'm gross, gross, gross. Because of my new career as a mucus factory, I've been blowing my nose when absolutely necessary. The thing is, I do not like blowing my nose. It's bad for you, actually. It creates pressure in the inner ear and sinuses and even pushes the mucus further up into the sinuses. Gross! But that's not the whole reason I hate blowing. You know how crying makes your nose run because the tear ducts empty into your nose? Well, if you didn't before, you do now. Anyway, it goes the other way, too. Every time I blow my nose, air totally squirts out the inner corners of my eyes. This feeling gives me the serious wiggins and my eyes water like heck for quite some time.

I'm also afraid I'm going to suffocate in my sleep because I can't breathe. Paralyzing. Fear. Of. Death.

I am crabby because I've been stilletto-stylee since 7:00am. None of my nice pants work with flats because I bought them long enough to wear with heels. On the positive side, I'm just over six feet tall in these shoes and people aren't messing with me.

So we're having an event this evening, and I was planning to be here until around 8:00pm to back up my friend MK, the woman in charge of things. Good thing I was already planning to be here, because MK was infected with pinkeye that her child brought home from school. So now I'm in charge and will be here until 10:00 tonight. This would all be just fine, if other people would just do what they said they'd do.

The coffee shop in our building is providing the coffee for the event, but we got the food from another vendor, thank goodness. The event begins at 8:00 tonight, so I went to the coffee shop at 3:00 to make sure everything was cool. Of course they had totally forgotten about it and made a fuss that they didn't know if they could handle it. I basically told them that I think that five hours is plenty of time to come up with game plan for making coffee...in a coffee shop. The manager said we should have reminded him a day in advance, since the plans were made three weeks ago. It was a pleasure to tell him that I seem to manage to remember my own committments and that I expect those I work with to do the same.

Gha! I'm a slave to my calendar and I can't manage without it, but I set up my own damn reminders! If I asked my colleagues and clients to remind me of stuff, I wouldn't have a job for long. What is wrong with people?

After the official office coffee break this morning, I stopped by the holiday market happening one building over. A woman was selling Italian breads and I couldn't resist buying a couple cioccolato pane; she was almost out and I might have to go back tomorrow to grab some of the next batch. After the sample I had at the market, I've been fantasizing about eating a whole loaf of the stuff by myself.

Anyway.

I've been finding it nearly impossible to stay on task at work this week. I think the Thanksgiving closure was a bad, bad thing for me and my colleagues because now we're on a countdown until the ten-day Christmas -New Year closure. My last company just shut down on Christmas day and New Year's day and that was it. I can't believe the luxury here and I really have to focus and get things done before we close the office. The problem is that every 20 minutes or so somebody distracts me with a funny email, snarky IMs, or pleas to go to coffee. Then it takes me another 20 minutes to get back to what I was doing.

Dude. My mom just called me to ask for help resizing a photo to use on her MySpace! My mom has a MySpace. The world is ending.

Warning: rant ahead.

People need to read. People who fancy themselves writers especially need to read. It's getting so I can't pick up a magazine or newspaper without stumbling across an egregious error. I'm not talking about errors of punctuation or spelling, or even the dreaded homonym, homophone, and homogram issues I've likely ranted about before. No, I'm talking about straight-up malapropisms.

Today, I read an article about the Michael Richards debacle, and was confronted with the term, "deep-seeded [sic] feelings." Mistakes like this wouldn't happen as often if people read more instead of learning most of their vocabulary by ear. Of course I cut children all kinds of slack in this regard, but grown-ass people need to cut it out and crack some books.

I'm far less annoyed when people mispronounce words they use correctly than when they ignorantly write down malapropisms, especially in the mainstream press. The article I read today wasn't from a major paper, but it was the last straw for me. I think I've been reading too many of my company's mistake-ridden memos, press releases (unforgivable), and other publications. Serenity now!

Gabcast! Evil gossip and random blather #2

Did anybody watch Letterman last night? I always record him and just watch the segments I'm interested in, like the musical guests sometimes. Anyway, last night I just watched the show all the way through. Ellen was on and, wow, that was one stutteringly awkward and hilarious interview. I was recently talking to a friend about comedies and how I don't think most comedians and/or comedy films are funny. So it was a breath of fresh air to see two genuinely funny mainstream celebs play off each other.

Speaking of movies, sort of, I'm considering a weekend trip to the next college town over for a showing of Marie Antoinette. There's little chance of it making it to my town, so I better get while the getting's good. The problem is that Fast Food Nation is out this weekend, too. If I drive two hours instead of one, I can get to a real city that would be showing it. I have to strategize.

So I'm in looooove with ordering massive quantities of music from the library system and ripping it all to my ipod/computer. I don't know why I've been spending massive quantities of money (that I can't afford) to buy 3-5 new CDs every month. My new hobby will allow me to put that money toward MORE LIVE SHOWS! Unfortunately, this revelation comes at a slow concert time in my neck of the woods. I thought about driving to see Decemberists this week while they made their way from the midwest back to the coast, but it snowed and I lamed out. Snow sucks. Especially on the plains, where the wind just whips it around and threatens to blow my car right off the icy roads.

The cold I've been trying to run off with Airborne and zinc finally smacked me in the head today. It's annoying, but nothing I can't live with, even if it ruines my weekend. Winter sometimes sucks.

I got back from my business trip late yesterday afternoon. While I was up there, we had a snowstorm and it was kind of crappy. I missed out on mall shopping and awesome chain restaurant eating because the roads were shitty on that side of town. After watching a tool in a 4X4 slide sideways down the highway and a semi-rolloever, I hightailed it back to the safety of my hotel. Lemme tell you, I'm not sure I can hack winters like these. I mean, back home my winter uniform was a sweater and a scarf. It's tough to get in the swing of bundling up. Imagine how stoopid I looked as I stood in several inches of snow wearing ballet flats with no socks, trying to scrape the ice from my windshield with one hand, while using the other to clutch my fashionable but impractical cashmere wrap. It was 3 degrees with 50mph winds. I suck.

Anyway, I had an adventure. The sneaky badass backroad route was a no-go on the way home ("No unnecessary travel" warning), so I had to take the interstates with the few other crazies who had to drive that day. No wonder my immune system is wacked out.

I have season tickets to the theatre and dance series in town, and there's a show tomorrow night. Even though this is a sold-out, highly anticipated show, I think I'm gonna have to give away my ticket. I can't imagine hacking and sneezing my way through two plus hours of theater. Boo!

I've been overwhelmed and blogless lately. I'm trying to remedy that, but only really feel like posting here, and not in my "official" spaces, which are sadly and unforgivably neglected right now.

I did something stellar today. Work was a trial because I had a headache, no motivation, and a bad attitude. So I went home for a few hours and did dishes, made a nice lunch, changed into more comfortable clothes, and watched an old eposode of Dark Angel. Then I came back to the office and worked into the evening feeing much, much better. I guess the mental health break did me good. The biggie nf vanilla latte I picked up on the way back to work might have been a factor, too. Meetingless days can be a good thing.

Tomorrow I head out on a short business trip. This time I'm going it solo in a company car and staying in the hotel of my choice. It's fun to travel with my excellent coworkers, but it's sooo nice to go it alone. I'll be having lunch with a business aquaintance and some of her colleagues before giving them a demo and update on mpow's new stuff. Then I'll conduct two training sessions at my company's branch up there. The city I'm going to is like double the size of Smalltown and contains a mall and a Target. I think I might be able to squeeze in a little window shopping before I head home on Wednesday morning. It's kind of a moral imperative.

Anyway, boring stuff, I know. I'm just trying to force myself back into posting regularly. I'm trying to write a newsletter, an article, and a whitepaper, and I find myself blocked. When I write *anything* more frequently, it all comes out much more easily.

I went shopping at my local Bath & Body tonight because that's what passes as shopping in Smalltown. I was on a mission to get the new C.O. Bigelow mentha lipgloss with cinnamon. It's like they made it just for me. The 3/$15 sale got me to try a couple of the tinted versions as well. Anyway. The salesgal who rang up my stuff mentioned she's from Yakima, and when I told her I'm from Seattle, she broke down and told me how much she misses Washington and how homesick and sad she is out here. Poor thing doesn't know how bad she'll be missing home when the snow starts falling here any day.

The temperature has dropped ominously over the past couple of days. I finally broke down and put on some socks. After summer, it always takes me a while to get back in the habit of wearing socks. It's funny to be getting ready and realize that I don't know if I actually have a clean pair in the proper color and/or weight for my outfit. It's amazing how much warmer I stay when my feet are snuggled in wool, though. I've busted out the cashmere and my puffy coat, too. And I started knitting again, which means that winter is nigh. The leaves fell off the trees in September, which is summer back home. Damn shortened fall!

Sitting here, post-taquilia nightcap, thinking. Scuse any misspellings or grammar snafus. Please. Also prepare for this to be disjointed.

It's been a crazy time lately. I haven't felt like updating here or anywhere else, for that matter. I sometimes completely overload and can't deal at all. Work is crazy right now. I was at work for ten hours today and it just flew by. At least I got some stuff done because, miracle of miracles, I had not a single appointment or meeting scheduled all the livelong day. This productive time will be short-lived, though; I have dozens, not kidding, dozens of training sessions scheduled for the next couple of months on top of all the other crap I do. I'm heading out on the road next week for a couple of sessions at a site a few hours away, too. The crazy never ends--I might be going somewhere else across the state in a few weeks. Anyway, work stuff is going well, but it never sounds interesting to people outside my field.

One thing that seems to keep coming up is relationship stuff. Lately people have been asking me why I don't seem so gung-ho to get in a relationship. (That sounds funny. Get in?) These are the same people who say things about their own relationships that make me cross-eyed. The other day a woman I don't know very well and I were talking about going on a long walk. She said something to the effect of, "after all that exercise, I can go out for a big lunch and my husband won't get on my case." WTF? All the middle-aged ladies at work say that kind of crap--they won't cut their hair because Husband might not like it, or they can't go out because Husband gets lonely. Funny how these are the people who hate that I'm not dating or husband-hunting. Disclaimer: not all men are controlling, and not all women are doormats. But I notice that the couples who seem really happy and fun never get on my case for being single. It's not like smart, funny, LIBERAL men are falling off trees around these red-state parts. If I trip over one, maybe I'll date him. Or maybe not; I kind of like my life of very few compromises.

Okay, my entire body is hot and cold at the same time. Tequilia rocks and so do my shot-enabling friends, especially the designated driver. I forgot how fun this is.

In an unrelated note, I found out that audioblogger isn't taking phonecalls anymore, so I'll have to make do with the lj service and its 5 post per month limit until I decide what to do. Not that I'm burning up the internets with all my posts lately. Anyway.

I gotta go because my arms are getting heavy and my fingers don't want to type good. Goodnight.

So, I will probably write about my trip to the motherland soon. I just can't deal right now. It was all--well, mostly--good. No worries.

But earlier this evening, I acted like a crazy fool. Since coming back to work on Monday, I've been putting in a few extra hours to get caught up on stuff. For instance, the support staff person who's allegedly helping me with a project did exactly nothing while I was gone and is now on vacation. Grrr. Anyway, I've been pretty fried by the time I get home each night.

Tonight I got the bright idea to make some tasty pasta and accompany it not with a glass of wine, which would make sense, but instead with my old bff, Jack Daniels. After tossing back a couple of SmallTown-style "doubles," I thougt it might be fun to make some cinnamon rolls. By the time they came out of the oven, I was able to eat about two bites of one and promptly passed out on the couch.* I woke up with cinnamon/frosting goo on the front of my nightgown. It was 9:00pm. What kind of dork gets tipsy, passes out, and sobers up before the neighborhood kids have even had their bedtimes? Yeah, my hand is up. The only reason I can admit this crap is because I know that literally two people read this, and they both know what a squirrel I am.

*There's a tense issue in this sentence, but I'd rather point at it than suss it out.