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02/28/2008
Did You Hear It?
You must have heard it. That loud, prolonged cheer that sails on the winds.
That's right, kids, having shed many tears already today due to the news, I can now announce that Matt has his visa in his hands and he's coming home tomorrow!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! x infinite.
*deleriously happy*
Later Days,
Arty
15:00 Posted in Blog | Permalink | Comments (3) | Email this
02/26/2008
(Still), All's Quiet On the Western Front
Exhausted from emotional turmoil.
Made black bean burgers.
Went on a cleaning rampage.
Discovered a little delicatessen two blocks from work.
Had some friggin' awesome microbrew tea.
Surprised Jeff with the 'yumminess' factor of non-meat burgers.
Wanted to vomit when Jeremy asked if Jeff had needle and thread because he (Jeremy) was ripped.
Went through stacks of IEPs.
Showered.
Cried.
Moisturized.
Brushed my hair.
Read.
Napped.
Only managed to make one stack of books to sell/give away/get rid of.
Refused to get rid of Dr. Seuss and The Scarlet Pimpernel.
Brushed my teeth.
Bed.
22:10 Posted in Blog | Permalink | Comments (1) | Email this
02/21/2008
Needed Factoids
I thought you all might want to know this bit of information:
There's nothing quite so delicious as orange juice.
That is all.
Later Days,
Arty
19:54 Posted in Blog | Permalink | Comments (1) | Email this
02/20/2008
Telegram
So it occurs to me that a lot of you must be wondering what the heck is going on in life. Now, some of you know what's going on, but others of you don't, so for the record book, this is what's been happening.
Matt left a week ago this past Monday for his visa interview, which was last Friday. Most of you knew this already. My thanks to those of you who prayed. Everything went fine for him. He waited two hours past his scheduled time only to be asked three questions.
The not so brilliant news is that there was a snag. The embassy wanted me to submit something called an I-134 form, which is an Affidavit of Support form for the government. Basically, what it is is a piece of paper along with several other pieces of paper that states and then goes about proving that I can financially support Matt for the three years after he enters the country so that he doesn't become a ward of the state.
Right.
Like Matt would become a ward of the state with my people around.
So I get a call at 6:30am last Friday. It was Matt and to be fair I was expecting his call. He tells me how the interview went and then tells me about this affidavit, to which my sleep-deprived mind can only formulate one thought:
Those bastard people!
So I went about forcing myself awake. I downloaded the I-134 form, printed it out and then read what I needed to get together. Here's the comprehensive list:
1) A letter from my bank, signed and stamped by an official which contains information as to when I opened my account and how much my current balance is.
2) The deposit totals for my account for the last year. Year!
These two little (?) items cost me two hours of my time inside my bank trying very hard not to just stand in the middle of the place and yell at them. Luckily, the woman helping me I'm convinced was an angel sent to keep me sane and help me.
3) Letter from my employer specifying the following things:
a) My status (i.e. permanent, part-time employee), of which I'm a permanent employee.
b) My annual salary.
c) My monthly salary.
d) The date and nature of my employment.
This one was fairly easy to get. All it took was a conversation with Pat. And I love Pat. She's most excellent people despite being kind of gruff on the edges. She's got a heart of gold.
4) A list containing information on my bonds (of which I have a few) with the following information:
a) Serial numbers.
b) Class numbers (which are really letters, so go figure).
c) Denominations of said bonds.
d) The name(s) of record owners.
You see, they were purchased when I was little, so my mom and dad were co-signers on my bonds, but once I turned eighteen, they turned everything over to me. That meant that I had to write a letter to this effect explaining that they had co-signers, but were technically mine as of my eighteenth birthday.
Loads of fun, I know.
On top of all of this, these things had to be sent as well:
5) Documentation that I had everything filled out and signed in the presence of a notary public.
This involved me sitting, listening to speeches about perjury and forgery and all the other gys imaginable. I also had to stick my thumbprint on two documents, but the good thing about this part is that I've got a friend that's a notary public and she was able to 'process' me.
6) A letter explaining my status in life.
This, of course, consisted of me sitting and writing a letter saying that I'm a recent college graduate, that I only started working in December and have every good and faithful intention of staying there. Which is true. I have no intention of leaving anytime soon or even in the foreseeable future.
So I gathered all tis information on Friday afternoon, which in and of itself was a small miracle, and whisked it away to FedEx who has also partnered with Kinko's...those whores.
I'm very bitter about this next bit of the story because again, the only thing that comes to mind when I think about them is:
Bastard people!!
But I digress.
Long story short, I went to Fed(up!)Ex/Kinko's and was guaranteed that my papers would be in England by Monday at noon. Three times I was guaranteed this, so I gladly plonked down my $80.00 without a second thought to it.
Well, guess what didn't arrive as promised on Monday. That's right. Certain documents that I had dashed to get and needed to be in the country as soon as humanly possible. And guess what wasn't there on Tuesday by noon. That's right! You're getting good at this.
The good news is that Matt now has all my paperwork in hand and tomorrow morning between the beautiful hour of 6am and noon, the embassy is going to be sending one of their minions to collect my papers and his passport. Said minions will then whisk the things away to the embassy and process things.
And if all goes well, another minion should be trapesing back down to Matt with his passport and visa papers in hand.
At this point, such rejoicing will occur here in California that I wouldn't be surprised at all if you were able to hear it in Dover.
And after that, it's really a matter of Matt catching the next flight home. Of course, there's the small chance that he might be held by San Francisco customs officers, but it's a very slim chance indeed.
Anyway, I'm making dinner, so I should get going. I wanted to make sure you lovelies were kept informed. I'll let you know things when I next have news. But for now, meatball subs beckon to be made.
Later Days,
Arty
17:27 Posted in Blog | Permalink | Comments (1) | Email this
02/19/2008
(de)Feat
No
I am not this person
This person you have forced me to be
This is who I am
I am the eternal optimist
The steadfast worker
The solver of problems both big and small
I am the comforter of many worries
The loyal friend and companion
The first one to smile and keep smiling
This isn't who I am
I am not the person who finds the problems first
Not the fickle flame so many others are
Not the one to go after a better offer once committed to another
I am not the quitter
Not the failure
Not ever the loser
So now I must wage war on you
You, this cloud
This shadow
This darkness of mine
I must destroy you
And I must do it because this person you have made me
This isn't a person who can survive
This is a person who will be consumed by a blackness deeper than the shades of darkest night
I am, by birth
And more so by rebirth
A child of light
One who utterly repels darkness
One who flees from it when necessary
One who is not afraid to fight what she cannot see
And so it will be with you
I will defeat you on your own fields of battle
I will destroy your warriors
I will, before the day is out, watch you flee from me
Because I hold a light inside me
A light that darkness cannot withstand
A light kept burning by a strength you cannot match
And I will win
I stand here and deny you your victory
Keep myself from your torturers
Refuse to be defeated
13:06 Posted in Blog | Permalink | Comments (1) | Email this
02/15/2008
The Land of Shadow
I stand here in shadow
Waiting
Feeling
Knowing
That if I now stand here in darkness
It is proof that you are my sunshine
Proof of my warmth
Of my life
And like all shadows, this one too shall pass
When you come home to me
I stand and think about you
My pledge to you
To have and to hold
The cherish and keep
To comfort and console you as best I can
In those times of sorrow
To rejoice with you and smile
In those times of ridiculous happiness
To dance with you and sway
In a music that has been written for us
For two people
Brought together by the hand of God
For two people
Sustained by divine grace that hides from understanding
For two people
Held by unsurpassed love
Kept by providence which protects and nurtures
And made strong by faith tested, torn and withstanding
Stubborn faith
Blind faith
Beautiful faith
Shadowed and haunted faith
Tried
Tested
Tortured
Tempted
Teased
Tired
Faith which carries us when we fall
Picks up the broken pieces of hearts
Heals them
Gives them new life with new day
This is the day
Our day
The day when being alone will be a thing lost with shadows
When heartache will melt like the snow
A thousand things to love
Glowing like a thousand lit candles
Gracing even the darkness
And so it is that I see the horizon
My eyes have been cleared
As though a fog were clouding them
Forcing me to perceive figures in the gloom
The doubt in myself
In my God
But I see green now
I see yellow and blue
I smell salty air and night blooming jasmine
I feel, even in this uncertainty, peace
And I can see clearly for the first time in a very long while
So I'll continue my journey towards light
Towards color and sound
Away from fog and deceptions perceived
And I'll walk towards you
In order that I may walk with you
My sunshine, warmth and assurance
All the days of my life
22:25 Posted in Blog | Permalink | Comments (1) | Email this
02/14/2008
Perfect Job
Okay, so I figured out what the perfect job for me would be tonight. Whilst watching Deal Or No Deal, I came to this realization.
My perfect job would be a game show host. The game would be for college boys. It would consist of them trying they're best to be charming, but failing miserably. Not only would they fail miserably, they would spend the entire time being cut to ribbons by me. It would be grand.
It would go something like this:
Frat Rat: Hey! What's up?!
Me: I don't remember giving you permission to speak to me yet.
Frat Rat: But you're the...
Me: Nor did I say it was okay to smile or look at me. In fact, don't think about me either.
Frat Rat: (lost for words).
Me: (waiting a long moment) So tell the nice people in my audience your name.
Frat Rat: Well, Arty...
Me: No, no, no. I said the people in my audience, not me.
Frat Rat: My name is Tristan Clay Lincoln III.
Me: Oh, so your daddy has money. That must be nice for you. Tell me, did you actually have to do well on the SATs or did you just go to be seen there?
Frat Rat: Do I have permission to talk to you now?
Me: You have my permission to answer the question.
Frat Rat: I did pretty well on the SATs.
Me: You heard that the perfect score went up, right? So 1400 isn't so good anymore.
Frat Rat: Ouch! Where'd you learn to be so mean?
Me: Come a little closer and maybe I'll tell you.
Frat Rat: (drawing near)
Me: (Whispering a little) I was born this way.
Frat Rat: Ouch!
Me: I'm getting tired of talking to you. Let's start the game so I can make a fool of you.
Frat Rat: I'm totally winning!
Me: Yeah. Right. Like you totally were on the honor roll in high school.
Frat Rat: I was on the honor roll!
Me: Of course you were. But we're moving on now. Try to keep up.
And so, the conception of Frat Rat Race has begun.
It's gonna be hot.
Later Days,
Arty
21:05 Posted in Blog | Permalink | Comments (1) | Email this
02/13/2008
Lost In a Fog
Hello again all. I'm glad to be back blogging. I'm also pleased to see that Benny accepted my challenge to write a section of the story. Many thanks for that. I'm sure Margo will get into it. She's into mystery novels and such.
Well, today is half over and it's the two day mark before Matt goes to his interview. I can't really explain what I feel. I was freaked out earlier this week, but I've been praying constantly for peace of heart and mind for us both, which exactly what we seem to have more of with each passing day.
Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. My mother's birthday. The 19th anniversary of my grandfather's death and really one of the main reasons my family doesn't really care for the month of February.
Linda, my office buddy and partner in crime, has been looking over at me furtively the last couple days. I don't think she knows that I have really good peripheral vision and can see her every time. She finally said today that I look a little lost, which I can't deny. I've been lost in lots of thought this week. I suppose it's the nature of my predisposition to be that way, even when interviews aren't a part of the timetable.
Ants have invaded the office. Someone left the honey open and out on Monday, so yesterday morning when we came in the counter was covered with the tiny blighters. I hate ants, personally. The bugs and also people named Ant (:p). Gus, who is the big boss and mastermind of the place, went downstairs to our storeroom and filled a small spray bottle with Simple Green. Thing is, you're supposed to dilute it. It's like a tablespoon of the stuff per gallon of water.
But Gus put the stuff in there straight. Oh yeah. He went on an ant killing rampage. Apparently the full strength solution kills most things, including people, on contact.
I think the message was taken back to their queen that the slaughter was great and not worth the bottle of honey. Still, a few survivors of yesterday's onslaught survived and brought the diminished ranks with them.
There was another miniature war waged today. Gus emerged the victor.
The daffodils around the fountain in the courtyard at my apartment have sprouted up and bloomed in the few days we've had of pale sunshine and cool tempuratures. I think they've been lured into a false situation where they think it's spring. But according to Punxatawney Phil, our beloved national ground hog that, once a year, is ripped from its burrow, forcefully awoken and then put on a cruel display just for the sake of our media, there's still six weeks of winter.
The poor little thing has been stuffed back into his hole in the ground and allowed to sleep for six more weeks, which is really what all of us should be doing.
Still, the daffodils are pretty.
Matt and I are contemplating planting some things under our French door windows in the living room. I haven't spoken to him about it since, but I'm considering getting some kind of flagtones for a small path just underneath the window so Matt and I can easily get there and back again for cleaning purposes instead of having to walk through the dirt.
We're pretty well set against having any kind of marigolds under the window because marigolds smell like booty chowder.
DISCLAIMER: I have to take a moment and write this disclaimer to give due credit to my brother, Jeff, who coined the phrase 'booty chowder' and is responsible for putting it into the everyday vernacular of the household and surrounding areas.
Matt isn't so hot on the smell of lavender, which I happen to like. Roses won't grow well because the entire flowerbed is under a big Japanese maple tree and therefore shaded from the sun for most of the day. Greenery is always an option. I really would like something that smells good, though. We can't have lilies because I'm allergic to those. There's night blooming jasmine in other parts of the courtyard, which will no doubt make me hate life later on this year. I also want something colorful and bright.
Lavender is...well...it's lavender. Petunias come in bright colors, but they smell funny too. They border on the booty chowder line. Carnations, I don't find too bad, but they're unwieldy. Calla lilies (which is the only lily I'm not allergic to) would be nice, but those can get out of control too. They're beautiful, though. It's an organic beauty and yes, I know all flowers have organic beauty, but these ones are simple. It's just a soft creamy white petal wrapped around a yellow stamen. They're gorgeous.
But enough about flowers.
The kids at my school have a basketball game today that they're all at right now. At least most of the kids are there. Some stayed behind because they're not at level to go off campus just yet, so it's relatively quiet here this afternoon. It's lunch right now so the sounds of basketball in our courtyard here are floating upstairs to the office.
And we just got a call from the guys down at the game off campus that one of our guys dislocated his knee, so he's on the way to the hospital right now. Poor guy. He's a sweet kid too.
Yesterday afternoon I tackled the boiler room here in the office. We have a sink back there for washing up and supplies that we use on a weekly basis. Things like spare cans of coffee, sugar, cutlery, printer toner, etc. Well, I tackled the room and emerged victorious. That's right. I beat that room into submission!
Granted, it's still horribly dusty and dark, but at least the shelves along the walls are organized and nice. I was able to get some chi going on in there. This afternoon one of my tasks is going to be taking a label maker in there and labeling all the shelves.
The next big task of this magnitude will be the storeroom downstairs, which is three times the size of the aforementioned boiler room. I won't get to that for a while yet, though. I have other things to do like maintain a lunch program and prepare payroll and do attendance billings and play nurse for the wounded warriors that come through the office door with papercuts.
It's a good job. Hard, yes. Challenging, definitely. But good, absolutely.
Today I have consumed the following things:
- Some Harvest Grain oatmeal.
- A cup of green tea that has traces of peppermint in it.
- A liter of water.
- Something I affectionately call a 'Hail Caesar ala Arty' sandwich.
- A couple handfuls of goldfish crackers.
- Vitamin Water, Energy.
- A handful of almonds.
The list will continue as the afternoon progresses into evening and night.
Right now Tracy, Hannah, Linda and Devin are all in the office having their lunches. Mike and Pancho are in a corner talking guitar. And I'm here. In my corner. In my own little chair blogging to you. And still I'm lost in thought.
I got to say hello to Sophie today. She's a pug dog that is down the street at our other site. She's the school site director's dog and she just kind of hangs out underneath the desk in a little dog pillow thing until someone new comes into the office. At that point she gets up and trots over and sniffs around the cuff of your trousers until you bend down and pet her. At that point she sits down and is your best friend in the world.
In other news, taupe is supposed to be a very soothing color, which I assure you I don't agree with. Taupe is the color of blah. Green is soothing. So is blue. And sandy yellow/brown. I love the beach.
Okay, the time has come for me to do some actual work or something, kids. I'll write again soon.
Later Days,Arty
13:14 Posted in Blog | Permalink | Comments (3) | Email this
02/12/2008
Once Upon A Time...
Hello everyone! I thought of something just now whilst at the office that inspired me to try something entirely new. What I propose has never been done before that I know of in our little circle of closely knit readership. What I'd actually like to do is start something, give it to someone else to add to and then finish it myself.
So here's the deal. I'm going to write the beginning of a story with some elements that will need to be touched on in later additions and then choose one of my readers to continue the story. When they write their part of the story, they then choose someone else in their readership to add their part. We'll also keep track of names and links of blogs so that we can follow the story along.
Any questions? Good.
So we begin...
Arty - http://artykins.blogspirit.com (Part 1)
There once was an island. It was small and inconsequential. It was connected to the the rest of civilization by nothing and no one from the mainland ever crossed the water to get there, though inhabitants often rowed to the mainland to sell their goods. It was an island that gave nothing, whose inhabitants contributed little more than mystery.
You see, this island, which is now lost to the generations, was shrouded all the time by mist. It could be perfectly sunny on the mainland, but once the water came within site that separated land from land, a wall of mist would hide the shores of the island from sight.
Children were often told not to go near its waters for fear of being snatched and carried away into mystery. Those who disappeared became nameless once their children, perhaps their children's children, forgot about them and lost their names to time.
The island produced many things apart from mystery. The most fantastic, exotic foods would be rowed over the water by its inhabitants and sold at local mainland markets for a steep profit, but no one ever knew how they grew such things when sunlight never seemed to penatrate their fortress of mystery.
But the prosperity the inhabitants enjoyed was not to last. That is why I say there once was an island, small and inconsequential, connected to nothing more than mystery.
Now, I think I'll choose Ben James to continue on from here. It seems like something that'd be in a vein he'd enjoy writing about.
Benny, feel free to continue the story in any form you wish. Poetry would be what I associate with you, but you might take a stab at some prose.
Later Days,Arty
12:46 Posted in Blog | Permalink | Comments (1) | Email this
02/07/2008
No!
Dear Microsoft Outlook:
You know, I really could care less if an email is 'probable spam' or not. Your job is to take the emails I mark as spam and store them somewhere in your memory so that the next time they come back, you automatically filter out to my delete bin. That is your job. Plain and simple.
Alas, you seem to be like a great, lazy sloth that does nothing worthwhile except provide fodder for the interested spectator. And I don't care how many segments of nature shows are devoted to the habits and habitat of the three-toed sloth, the total number of people whose interest is peaked by such things is five. That's it. Five people in the world are solely devoted to this creature. Five. The rest of us just give it a passing glance.
The same goes for you. Only five people sit and wonder about why you fail your users miserably. And 2.7 of those people spend their days plotting, executing and celebrating in the victories of cubicle warfare...which honestly is what I'd do if my fate were so dire that I had to work for the people who developed you.
You are the spawn of all ill-conceived evil. Your mother's name is Rosemary. Your father's name is Faust. Your name is a string of naughty superlatives that any man with any kind of moral grounding would not utter lest he be attacked by a dog, run over by a cyclist, hit by a car, crushed by a tree branch and finally struck by lightning whilst walking home after being fired from his job and getting a phone call from his wife that she's leaving him because she's in love with the milkman and carrying said milkman's baby.
I have the following things to say to you:
- No, I do not suffer from erectile dysfunction.
- No, I do not want to hear her scream.
- No, I do not want to by Canadian Cialis, Viagra or any other sexual enhancing drug.
- No, I do not want generic medication for anything.
- No, I am not interested in buying a replica of a Rolex watch, no matter how good you say it is. I'd know the difference and so would you, which quite frankly, is two people too many.
- No, I won't learn anything new that I already don't know about the inner and outer workings of the male nether-regions.
- No, I do not believe a pill, or cream will make anyone's penis larger.
- No, I don't have a penis!
- No, I'm not interested in a 19-year-old Russian bride.
- No, I refuse to click on any link with or without an explanation of what it is. That's stupid. Even you should know that.
- No, I do not want images of naked women assaulting me at my desk.
- Nor do I want images of men in nothing but towels standing halfway inbetween being in and out of a shower with eyes that beckon me to join him.
- No, I do not want you!!!
GAH! All I have to say is this:
Thank God I'm only consigned to this hell for eight hours a day, five days a week and thank the good Lord above that the rest of my time is spent in the blissful company of my Apple computer! In addition to having a superior operating platform, it knows my spam mail needs and does what it's supposed to do.
So screw you, Microsoft Outlook!
Yours Very Perturbedly,Arty
15:18 Posted in Blog | Permalink | Comments (8) | Email this
02/06/2008
Mis Queridos
Dear Mom & Dad,
It me, Arty. Your daughter. Your eldest child. Your first attempt at trying to raise a child. Your most headstrong child and the child that got the full brunt of your rules and the punishments for not adhering to those rules.
I'm writing to say thank you.
Thank you for your rules and your boundaries. They taught me how to play the game.
Thank you for your encouragements. They taught me how to persevere.
Thank you for your sympathies. They taught me how to care.
Thank you for your time. It taught me that I mattered.
Thank you for being my first teachers. You taught me that it's okay to make mistakes so long as I learn from them.
Thank you for reading to me. It was my first love.
Thank you for the bedtime stories. They taught me how to imagine.
Thank you for your instruction. It taught me how to aspire.
Thank you for sending me to college. It's a gift you gave that no one can ever take away.
Thank you for your hugs. They make me realize how lucky I am.
Thank you for your kisses. They are the proof you love me.
Thank you for your love. It continues to teach me grace.
Thank you for all the help with homework. It helped me succeed.
Thank you for your opinions. They have given me direction through experience.
Thank you for your prayers. They taught me how to intercede on behalf of someone else.
Thank you for your examples. They taught me how to work hard and well.
Thank you for your morals and ethics. They taught me how to be upright.
Thank you for having expectations. They taught me how to reach.
Thank you for your support. It's been what holds me up when I fall.
Thank you for loving each other. It taught me what to look for and find in Matt.
Thank you for arguing with each other. It taught me that it's okay to fight.
Thank you for being my heroes. You've taught me how to move mountains.
Thank you for being right. It taught me that I don't always know best.
Thank you for never saying never. It taught me that all things are possible.
Thank you for allowing me to be me. It gave me the confidence of ten men.
Thank you for giving us a home. It might not be a house where it's just us, but it's a home with love and family.
Thank you for teaching me how to cook. It gave me a deep appreciation for food.
Thank for embracing history and culture. It taught me how to love everyone.
Thank you for having limits. They taught me how to know when to just simply walk away from someone or something.
Thank you for all the flute lessons. They taught me how to truly appreciate music.
Thank you for making me practice. It gave me uncompromsing determination.
Thank you for going to all the recitals and school concerts. It taught me that despite circumstance, you do for family.
Thank you for teaching me how to make a bed. It gave me expectations of my own.
Thank you for enjoying color. It taught me not to be afraid.
Thank you for comforting me after all my bad dreams. It made me feel safe.
Thank you for laughing. It taught me how to survive.
Thank you for celebrating. It taught me how to sing.
Thank you for saying 'yes' to Matt. It's made me inexplicably happy.
Thank you for loving Matt. It has taught me that love is limitless.
Thank you for all the fun times. They've taught me how to stay childlike.
Thank you for all the tough times. They taught me how to grow up.
Thank you for always speaking to me as though I'm an equal. I'm mature because of it.
Thank you for all the bandaids and kissed fingers when I was a girl. They made everything feel better.
Thank you for calming my fears. It's been my shelter from the storm.
Thank you for always being open. It taught me how to trust.
Thank you for never letting me down. I have higher standards because of it.
Thank you for loving my friends. It taught me how to reach out.
Thank you for depending on the people at church to help raise me. It taught me how to think the best of strangers.
Thank you for not lying to me about death. It taught me how fragile life is.
Thank you for not lying to me about life. It has taught me compassion.
Thank you for teaching me how to drive. It taught me how to handle dangerous things.
Thank you for accepting all the flowers that were really weeds when I was a child, even though you were allergic to them, and putting them in vases. It made me feel special.
Thank you for all your compliments. They made me feel beautiful.
Thank you for opening my doors. It taught me to expect more.
Thank you for pulling out my chairs. It taught me I'm worth something.
Thank you for always handing me the knives handle side first. It taught me how to be safe.
Thank you for offering to help me pack my bags when I threatened to run away. It taught me how do deal with children.
Thank you for indulging me during the summers when we would build tents out of bedsheets. It taught me how to be methodical.
Thank you for making me clean up after myself. It taught me how to be responsible.
But most of all, thank you for being you. You have shown me the love of the Lord God Almighty through your lives and you have taught me how to strive to live my own.
Yours Affectionately,Arty
11:57 Posted in Blog | Permalink | Comments (3) | Email this
02/04/2008
Pepper's Poo
Just a quick update to let you all know about Pepper.
She left today. But this wasn't before she managed to eat, in secret, a small train made entirely of candy. The engine was a pack of gum, the wheels little peppermints, the smokestack a Hershey kiss and the body of the train a roll of lifesavers.
Well, sometime yesterday morning between the time everyone left for church and I left for church (I go to a later service), she managed to find, consume and make a mess that required cleaning.
Of course, she got ill, but not until this morning when she yakked all over the porch and pooed on every grassy surface in the front yard.
I mean, I love her, but do I love her that much?
The answer is no.
By the way, Pepper is feeling fine again.
Later Days,
Arty
16:52 Posted in Blog | Permalink | Comments (3) | Email this
02/01/2008
February
Well good afternoon kids! It's been a fair amount of time since I last blogged something that someone either didn't understand or thought was emo. Seriously. Jeremy read my last post about Icarus and looked at me, shook his head and said, 'you wrote an emo poem.' When asked what emo was, he answered that it's kind of like goth with one difference. Goth is generally when you hate the world whereas emo is when the world hates you. It's a seriously depressing state. I, however, was neither depressed nor under that impression that the world hated me when I wrote Icarus.
Jeremy still thinks it's emo.
Moving right along, though! Today is the first day of February. If today is any indication of what this month will be like, I want to quit now. It's not that I had a bad day. I actually had a really good day. It's just that I didn't stop at all today. Right now is the first time I've had a moment to myself to actually sit and do something strictly for myself.
Today was interesting. It started out with the office being empty. Now, for a recap, I share my office with Linda and Jason. Linda is the secretary and Jason is the Crisis Intervention Specialist. Jason is kind of partitioned off in one of the corners by cubicle partitions. He's normally out and about on campus doing things, so he's rarely in the office.
Linda, on the other hand, is almost always in the office with me. She was gone today because of a doctor's appointment. She has a bad back and was having something done to see if it would help. I sent her with God yesterday. Which left me in the office by myself today. Stacey, who's my counterpart at the other site, was out today, so I had to run things down there as well from my own desk. My boss was supposed to be out, but she ended up coming in for a few hours to do some stuff, which included sending me to the store for a shop.
Why the shop?
Well, both sites we have just underwent a state mandated review. What that means is that the CDE (California Department of Education) sends out their minions to come and rake us over the coals. They inspect our school from top to bottom, from the inside out. They looked at facilities, personnel, students' files, EdCode (Education Code...state law stuffs regarding education and how it's to be established/run/reviewed) procedures and just about everything else.
Last week Stacey's site was reviewed and this week it was our turn. Being the campus for middle and high school proved to work against us as far as the work we needed to do was concerned. There was a tremendous amount of work we needed to do to gear up for the arrival of the CDE's minions. More files to get in order. More cleaning and general tidying to do (although thankfully I was able to do the majority of that over Christmas break!). More double checking to make sure everything was in order that needed to be.
Well, as a result of our proactive approach (and when I say this, I mean, the entire school went into on-site mode and everyone pulled their weight plus that of several large first-base-line-beer-drinking-eight-hot-dog-eating baseball fans), we managed to survived the onslaught of the CDE and pass with nothing but commendations to our name.
Pat (my boss) sent me on a shop to buy celebratory things. The things I bought are as follows:
- 6 cases of beer (12 bottles a case, bringing the grand total to 82 bottles of beer in my car).
- 4 liters of Coca-Cola.
- 1 litre of Tequila.
- 15 pizzas.
- 1 giant bag of ice.
So by the time my shop was finished, I had all that stuff in the trunk (boot) of my car. And as I drove back to work, the back of my car tinkling merrily with the sounds of glass bottles jostling about, I couldn't help but laugh out loud at the absurdity of it all. Here I was, a lone female, in a store with a cart full of nothing but booze, save for the Coca-Cola, which I never thought would be plain Coke anyway since we had the Tequila to mix things with, checking out as if I'll never see beer again. And then, to top it all off, I sat in my car driving singing '82 bottles of beer in my car' in my head.
It was pretty great.
So when I got back to work, the real trial began. You can't just walk onto a middle/high school campus with six cases of beer, a bottle of tequila and some Coke. I mean, you just can't. For several reasons. So there I am, having gotten inside and asked several of my co-workers to help carry stuff in, with a cab full of students just parked outside. Apparently someone was being a chatty-Cathy, so Jason (who had volunteered to help) stood on the corner giving hand signals to people to tell the cabby to get moving.
Eventually the hint was taken, the cab departed and five of us were able to transport the vast quantity of alcohol on campus for a staff party. It was a good party. I can't quite say why, but it pleases me beyond recall when I see co-workers enjoying each other's company outside the realm of actual work. It's a beautiful thing.
I mention all this not just for your enjoyment, but because I'm hoping today will be the beginning of a string of good events that happen this month.
You see, February isn't a good month for me or my family. Several deaths occurred in February in my family, one of which was my grandfather (my mom's dad). And he died on her birthday, which also happens to be Valentine's Day. My grandmother's parents both died in February. It's just not an easy month to get through. Memories often haunt us.
This year, in addition to memories, Matt also has his visa interview, which I'm trying to be brave for. The truth is I'm actually more nervous than he is. I know his chances of being denied a visa are slim and I know it's silly to believe in bad luck, but given the track record I know, it's hard to separate one from the other.
Still, today there was a break in the bad weather. It clouded up this afternoon, but it hasn't rained at all today, which is an amazing relief. It's been a month of nasty weather. I'm convinced we're having several little hurricanes with one or two days where we hit the eye of the storm and get all the decent weather. I'm hoping and praying that the good times of today will carry through the month.
On a slightly less serious note, Pepper has been visiting us, which is always delightful!
She's hilarious. She likes me quite a lot, so on the nights I stay at the apartment to have dinner and spend time with Matt, she let's me know she's upset. I'll wander inside, she'll stand in the middle of the living room and bark herself silly. She reads me the riot act when I get home late. I quietly go about taking my coat off and setting my things down, letting her go on at me all the while.
But then I employ my charm.
I'l go over to her, sit on the floor and start scratching her ears, at which point she stops barking and let's me lavish attention on her. Five or ten minutes of attention and she loves me blindly again. It makes me wonder why people can't be that way sometimes. There are plenty of times when a little attention will go a long way in making things better. Just like an apology will go a really long way in making things right between two people. The more I observe Pepper, the more I begin to realize that we, as people, could learn a lot from dogs.
Anyway, I'm still mad at her for disgracing herself the other day. It was a day when I went straight back to the house after work and since I had some time to kill, I decided to take her on a walk. I asked my mother if I had to take anything with me, but she answered that Pepper had already...done her business, shall we say...so I didn't need to worry.
So I didn't worry.
Which was mistake numero uno.
Halfway around the block, I feel a tug at the leash (Pepper happened to be lollygagging behind me), so I turned to see what she had found because when that happens it's normally because she smells something interesting. But no. Not this time. Lo and behold, there's Pepper taking a massive poo. And there's me...unprepared for it.
It made me upset with her.
Meh.
Well, my loves, as much as I'd love to stay and regale you with tales of goings-ons, I must leave you. Matt and I have to stop by BevMo to buy some tequila and some sweet & sour so we can make margaritas later. We're heading over to the house for some fajitas con the familia. Everyone will be there, which will prove very fun. Especially if we play a game. Oh baby. A game would be ace.
Until next time *holds up margarita con sal* rejoice in the overthrowing of CDE minions, beware massive poo-making dogs, hold on to hope for good days to come and cherish time spent with loved ones!
Later Days,
Arty
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