“July 6, in the morning
      My angel, my all, my very self – Only a few words today and at
that with pencil (with yours) – Not till tomorrow will my lodgings be
definitely determined upon – what a useless waste of time – Why this
deep sorrow when necessity speaks – can our love endure except through
sacrifices, through not demanding everything from one another; can you
change the fact that you are not wholly mine, I not wholly thine – Oh
God, look out into the beauties of nature and comfort your heart with
that which must be – Love demands everything and that very justly -
thus it is to me with you, and to your with me. But you forget so
easily that I must live for me and for you; if we were wholly united
you would feel the pain of it as little as I – My journey was a fearful
one; I did not reach here until 4 o’clock yesterday morning. Lacking
horses the post-coach chose another route, but what an awful one; at
the stage before the last I was warned not to travel at night; I was
made fearful of a forest, but that only made me the more eager – and I
was wrong. The coach must needs break down on the wretched road, a
bottomless mud road. Without such postilions as I had with me I should
have remained stuck in the road. Esterhazy, traveling the usual road
here, had the same fate with eight horses that I had with four – Yet I
got some pleasure out of it, as I always do when I successfully
overcome difficulties – Now a quick change to things internal from
things external. We shall surely see each other soon; moreover, today I
cannot share with you the thoughts I have had during these last few
days touching my own life – If our hearts were always close together, I
would have none of these. My heart is full of so many things to say to
you – ah – there are moments when I feel that speech amounts to nothing
at all – Cheer up – remain my true, my only treasure, my all as I am
yours. The gods must send us the rest, what for us must and shall be –
Your faithful LUDWIG”

Coolest.    .gif.    Ever.

How freaking creepy is she?  (he?  It??) . . . I’m transfixed.  I just keep watching this over and over and over and over . . .

Recently, I’ve been thinking about “The Past” . . . that part of our lives that we look at with rose colored glasses and remember “how wonderful it was”.  (for the most part . . I realize that there are things that people never look at with a positive light.)  This post was brought on by another xangan who was talking about his past . . and the things that can automatically transport you right back there. But I digress.  This little part in my life truely was wonderful.  The only bad part about it is that it doesn’t exist any more. 

I met N back in highschool.  He was a frosh, and I was a junior.  I’m not even sure how we started hanging out . . but we did.  He lived a few blocks from me . . and we became very good friends.  I always got along better with folks who were younger than me . . I’m not sure why.  (pardon my brain veering off course . . I do that often.)  N and I would get together on weekends, or almost every day during the summer . . we’d hang out and just do random stuff . . . have monopoly tournaments . . play Mortal Kombat (sp?) . . play basketball . . do strange little experiements with a photo lens cap and my car dashboard (don’t ask) . . hang out with other friends,etc.  He was probably one of the very few true friends I had.  Probably the closest friend I had at that time.  There was nothing romantic or anyway relationship related in our friendship.  Infact, his best guy friend was a classmate of mine (who happened to be the kid I had a crush on.)  We’d all go over to J’s house (my crush), and I’d act all weird (cause I had serious social issues back then) . .and N would be all “what the heck is wrong with you.”  I never answered that question.   We didnt’ talk about stuff like that.  No feelings . . no girl stuff.  I was one of the guys when I was around him.  Except for little things.  He’d call me in the morning . . . he’d be down in his basement playing video games . . and he’d feel the need to call me.  But he wouldn’t say anything.  I’d be all “um . . if you’re not going to say anything I’m going to hang up” . . . and he’d say “No wait!” . . and then not say anything.  This happened often.  Eventually I would just go over there, and we’d both play video games, and not say anything.  For some reason . . that just makes me smile.  It was strange . . and annoying . . but also weirdly endearing. 

2 years and 2 summers flew by pretty darn quickly, and N made it quite clear that he didn’t like the idea of growing up. (typical man . . doesn’t like change *grin*)  Especially nearing the end of that second summer.  He would make comments such as “you’re not allowed to graduate” … or “nope . . you’re not going to get any older.  You’re always going to be a Senior” . . “you’re not allowed to go to college”. . . . stuff like that.  I always smiled at him and said “don’t be ridiculous . . . we’ll still hang out.  I’ll only be 30 minutes from here . . no biggie”.  He’d just look at me.  Never said anything. 

One night we were out late . . ( I don’t remember what we were doing) . . but I drove him home (as he wasn’t old enough to drive yet)  . . . it was nearing the end of the summer . . and I was gearing up to go to the big “C” (college).   As he was getting out of the car . . . he stopped his exit . . got back in the car, wrapped his skinny arms around my neck and hugged me tight.  I can only imagine that his eyes were squeezed shut . . and he said to me . . “I love you just the way you are . . please don’t change”. 

I was floored.  I hugged him back . . but I was completely speechless.  I didn’t know what to say . . I might have said “I love you too” but I’m not sure.  He then let go and immediately jumped out of the car . . obviously embarrassed by the display of emotion.  And I just sat there.  I waited for him to go inside . . watched the garage door close . . but I still just sat there.  That was one of the last times we spent any time together. 

I got to see him about a year later, at a friend of ours wedding (yup . . married young).  It was good to see N . . but things were . . . different.  He had new friends, different friends.  So did I.  I had tried to call him to get together while I was in my first year of college . . but I admit, I didn’t try as hard as I should have.  Neither did he.  College took up a lot of my time . . . I was beginning to find out who *I* was . . . and I changed.  And eventually my little innocent friend grew up and went to college . . joined the Airforce . . . and changed.  He was interested in girls. (ew!!   )  He swore.  (he used to yell at me when we used to hang out . .and a curse word would escape my mouth.  We were so innocent.)  I started dating . . I’m sure he did too.  I changed some more . .and so did he. 

Who I am today is a shell of that former self.  My body is essentially the same (ok . . a bit more plush) . . but the inside . . the inside is stronger, more sure, more aware than I ever was in HS.  But from time to time . . I wish.  I wish we could be that innocent again. 

I found N on one of those popular networking websites recently.  It allows me to take a look at his life since we’ve been friends.  We’ve exchanged a few awkward emails, with typical glossed-over life information (graduated here, live here now . . doing this . . how are you?) etc etc.  Part of me wants to email him . . spill my guts . . tell him that I miss our close friendship and the fun we used to have . . and that I still care for him.  He’s actually back in the area.  But I’m afraid.  Part of that old ‘wallflower’ness is back . . and I can’t bring myself to emote to him . . . and tell him that I miss his friendship.  We’re both so different now.  I’m afraid he’ll see me as desperate . . . or . . something . . who knows.  It’s possible that we’ve both grown so differen’t that we won’t get along any more. . I don’t know.  But I do know that those two years with his friendship were very special to me . . and I’m very glad to have had them. 

Isn’t quite as bad as one would think. 

I completed my third decade on this earth a week ago today.  I had some goals to hit before I hit 30 (or at least be close to completing), and I haven’t done so.  Mostly . . I had a goal to lose weight.  I wanted to be svelte by 30 . . and I started a pretty strict regimen of calorie counting and exercise on my 29th birthday.  As of today, I’m only about 15 lbs less than I was last year.  Nothing to sneeze at . . but in the scheme of things?  Only a drop in the bucket.  It’s a struggle for me.  I can eat the same amount as a skinny person, and still gain weight.  Probably because I’d rather sit on my behind than move about.  My ‘jobs’ don’t help me either . . . I sit.  At the computer.  all. day.  long.  Then I get in my car and drive to rehearsal / show / etc . . where I sit on my behind.  All.  Night.  Long.  So I have to work twice as hard as someone who is (and has the ability to be) more active than I. 

So why haven’t I been?  Thats my biggest question to myself.  Why.  why why why.  Why do I do the things I do . . and not the things I should? 

I have no idea.  I really and truthfully don’t know.

So I guess that’s my next project.  I’ve come so far in the last 10 years, that people who knew me when I turned 20, probably wouldn’t recognize me today.  Not because I look different . . but because I’ve changed.  I’m more outgoing . . . I chatter with people . . I know who I am, what I want, and I try my darndest to get it.  But now, I’ve got to change some more.  And in that process, I think I’ll find the way to be able to lose the weight.  I need to re-figure me out!

I think this decade holds a lot of promise for me.  Music; job; life . . . and now that I know who I am and what I want, and now that I’m aware of my surroundings . . . I think these next 10 years are just gonna be a blast. 

Did I hear someone say that 30 is the new 20?

Being left up to my own devices here at work has brought me to some very interesting conclusions about myself.  I might have ADD.  I might have OCD.   It’s like being a lawyer or someone who deems themselves important.  M.E. ADD. OCD. Esq.  I should be making billions of dollars. 

instead I have billions of dust bunnies under my bed.  (no thanks to the Gershwin brothers).  ** edit [the cats . . the cats are named George and Ira. . . .] **

All this aside . .  I’ve noticed a few interesting quirks about myself as I work through my stacks of backlogged mess.  The ADD affects me all day.  I’ll be plugging away in the system, noting on accounts how patients are ELIG FOR DOS (date of service) or OVER INCOME FOR HCAP. . . and then it hits me square in the forehead.  It takes over every fiber of my being . . informing me that if I don’t look at Etsy RIGHTTHISVERYINSTANT I may just perish. (to give you all a good laugh . . yes.  yes I did just go look at Etsy.  leave me alone) 

I do this constantly.  I’m like an addict. . making sure that my drug is still there. . that it hasn’t just imploded and been sucked into cyberspace. . I JUST HAVE TO LOOK!  I can’t help myself.  Because I might miss something.  I might miss something fabulous . . that I can’t live without!!  (though I’ve done ok so far. . I’m still alive, right?)

Then there’s the OCD.  I feel the need to clean my desk . . and clean it often.  (That may be a bi-product of being in close proximity to Phlegm boy) . . and I have this odd little quirk when I’m working in the system.  As you may have noticed above . . I work in all caps.  (because . . for some reason . . we must work in office situations in ALL CAPS.  because we like to scream at each other all day long.  probably easier to do here than in person.) And as I enter about being ELIG or OVER INCOME . . I find myself making my lines match up.  I only have a certain number of spaces to use on each line in the system.  And I find myself making the number of characters on each line match exactly.  For. Everything.  Is this useful?  no.  Is it productive? no.  Am I bored out of my fucking gord?  most likely. 

I work at a company that deals with Healthcare . . more specifically a program that the State of Ohio offers called Hospital Care Assurance (program) [HCAP].  I process applications, deal with patients . . deal with clients (hospitals) etc etc. 

[I don't fear being dooced . .
as no one on this earth really knows that I have a blog.
  Those that read my blog, don't really know my full name ... .
so, I feel ok writing about work.]

I’ve recently been put on ‘assignment’ with one of our clients.  I’m off site, working from the hospital offices and it has been . . . . interesting.  To say the least.

First . . my commute has doubled in length.  (dare I say that my company has decided NOT to pay me extra to cover the mileage.  figures)
Second . . .  it’s a dungeon in here.  My company has a more ‘open’ floor plan . . the cubes are open and light in color, there are wide walkways and bright lighting, there are green plants everywhere.  Here?  Not so much.  The walls are a dark military green, the cubes are a dark slate color and they are smashed into the space like sardines.  It’s like a prison . . or a massively fucked up maze.  It’s very easy to get lost in here.  Infact . . it’s very easy to zone out and not be productive.
Third . . yeah . . productivity.  HAH.  These people don’t know what WORK means.  I head to the restroom, and then detour to the lunchroom to grab water . . and the two people I passed gabbing at the cube next to me are STILL gabbing upon my return.  And are STILL gabbing on my next trip to the restroom.  I came in one month ago, and have produced more work in that period of time than the person doing this job had produced in A YEAR.  a year.  365 days.  48 weeks. are you shitting me?  In all reality . . I goof around on the internet as much as everyone else (this blog . . case in point) . . but I’m still producing 400%  more work volume?  Jesus . . what do these people do around here?
Fourth . . phlegm boy.  I’ve left the best for last.  Phlegm boy sits in the cube next to me.  [The last post I submitted was about him.]  He horks up the entire contents of his lungs approx. 20 to 30 times a day.  This should be bad enough . . . ohbutthere’smore.  He takes calls from patients. He talks to them like they are 2 yrs old and vegetables . . . and then gets complaints (naturally) and talks to the boss like the he/she is mentally challenged.  The other day . . an older woman called in.  Hospital billing is confusing, and she was completely lost.  Instead of helping her through her confusion . . he just proceeded to yell at her, demean and belittle her, until she was reduced to tears.   He then told her that none of this was any of his problem anyway, and he hung up on her.    May you rot in hell Phlegm boy . . for not only making me want to hurl my lunch all over you, but for being a complete, downright 100% cold blooded asshole.  Congratulations. 

So yes . . my experience here has been rather interesting here in the land of Hospital Bureaocracy.  And now they think I’m wonderful and want to hire me. . . .

I wonder how much coin I can squeeze . . .

To: Christine R
Subject: RE: and

You know. . . this move took me right next
to phlegm boy.  He just belched.  I think I felt a breeze . . and I
feel a bit faint.

The guy on the other side of that (next
row over that sits up next to the desk (kinda like you and Farrah) . . .
he’s listening to 102.1 . . . easy listening elevator make me pass out
from extreme mental apathy music. 

*blink*

Can we cause a flood so I can board the
Arc?

To: Meredith E
Subject: RE: and

That made me laugh so hard out loud…

That funky looking skin is Stingray!  Dyed neon green.  Pretty nifty looking if you ask me. 

Click HERE for the artist.

I’ve been listening to this a lot lately.  And I like this:

I like that a lot.  “Some things I cannot change, but ’till I try, I’ll never know.” 

Not perfect . . but so wonderful.