Get Off My Lawn

I do not care about Pinterest. There was a brief story on NPR a few weeks ago and I heard the stupidest thing ever. This woman was talking about how she and her friends were in a furniture store and admired a chair. One of them said "I think I've seen this before." Another said "isn't that on your pinterest?" The other said "No" and whipped out her phone to take a picture so she could pin it and OH MY GOD IT WAS THE FUNNIEST THING!!!! That was what the chick being interviewed thought, not what I thought. What I thought was "how many people are you going to tell about someone taking a picture of a chair?"

I also do not care about American Idol and would really like it to die. I think I've probably said that several times on this here blog but really, can you say it enough? I don't even have cable any more but I still cannot escape it because I like the internet and gossip magazines and because I work in an office with human beings who watch and discuss the show in the break room. Who will be the next American Idol? Probably some jerk starring in a youtube video.

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Can someone please explain to me how my consumer profile includes new or expectant mother? Similac sent me a card inviting me to join some moms club thing and if I respond now I can get a special smart bottle (I don't know if it is for me or my phantom baby). I triple checked the name and address and yep, it was for me. I purchase my fair share of alcohol and my diet consists of ramen, frozen pizza, popsicles, and toast and cheese. I suppose I wouldn't want me breast feeding either but I also wouldn't assume that was an issue in my life. I'm considering stocking up on hard liquor, condoms, lubricant, and porno magazines just to set my profile back to 'sad-lonely-single-adult' but fear what kind of invitations that might bring me. Larry Flynt opened a store in my area so who knows who tempting and tantalizing offers I might receive.

Speaking of Larry Flynt, did you know that Dear Abby knows him? It's true, look. I'm pretty sure she relies on old Larry for dating advice as well as porno advice.

And since I've decided to link, I'd just like to say, no shit, of course this guy kills hitchhikers in his truck. I know, I know, don't judge a book by its cover but, as my friend Birdy said, "That guy looks like ALL he does is kill hitchhikers! Ya'll see his eyeball?!? That eyeball says "I like to kill hitchhikers."

For the record, I would like to point out that the conversation regarding the Eyeballer, as I like to think of him, began at 8:43 this morning and I've been laughing like a weezing cartoon cat for about thirty minutes. But seriously, would you get into his truck?

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It's Friday, the final day of my boss's vacation and so I need to live it up a bit. I get to clear out the office refrigerators because 'other administrative duties as arise' evidently includes custodial tasks, and taking the office mail to the post office. The refrigerators won't be too big a deal since people know that when I'm doing it, I really will throw their shit out. I'm ruthless and don't care if it's nice tupperware or a cloth lunch bag, it will be thrown out. This means that most people take their shit out and so I have little to do.  It still irritates me that I have to do it at all but what are you going to do? I should have said something two years ago when someone volunteered me and the rest of my 'team' but I didn't so I just have to suck it up and throw things away. I'll fight the power some other way. 

Today is also the start of my friend's three day weekend so I won't have him to chat to until Sunday evening or Monday morning and that blows. You know how you get used to talking to someone and then they do something selfish like go on vacation or get really ill or something? That is the moment you realize not only do you talk to that person a ton, but that you see/read/hear a million things a day that you want to tell them, like the Eyeballer and things heard on NPR during your commute. There are a few people I actually miss when they take vacation time away from work and Hunter is one of them. He works in a different office so we communicate via email and instant messenger but on some days, we essentially chat all through the working day because I type super fast and can multitask and he, evidently, is a terrible employee who wastes valuable company time. I think it bothers me more when he's 'out of the office' because he doesn't even work in this office so I don't get to talk to him in person or hang out with him and so it is a double blow to not even have him to chat with online. Jerk. Something about a wife and a life and the world not revolving around me. My old boss is doing the same thing, as a matter of fact, and she'll be gone for two weeks. She's one of the people I miss when they are gone. And Birdy. She's taking a half day (which is why I have to take the fucking mail).

So, basically, I have friends who are rad as hell but who suck and don't care about my need for constant entertainment and amusement. But I love them anyway.

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LATER

Well, this day took an interesting turn. I don't know why but a few of us in my office have been losing our shit over The Eyeballer I mentioned above. I'm sorry, I know it must be mean, but we just crack up every time we see the photo. And whatever, dude killed people so laughing at him isn't horrific. Birdy made the mistake of telling me and Rambo that she couldn't stand us today because we wouldn't let the issue drop. So I did what any good friend would do; I waited until she left for the day and then printed out ten copies of various sizes of the guy's face. When she comes in on Monday, it will be to find her cubicle filled with this image:

I know, I'm the best friend anyone can have, right? And excellent use of my time. 

And when I wasn't being a dick intentionally, I was being a dick by accident and snapped the head off of my best friend. I've apologized but I do hate when I behave badly. Fortunately, the working day is almost over and I'll soon be napping.

Best Conversation Ever

Ralph Paton	We have too much fun together. Aside from the fact that you like Gangsta rap and think that Red is a flavor, you're down right awesome to be around.
Gwenda Reed	That and you always force me to think objectively, which pisses me off but really I know it is good for me.
◄	What's wrong with thinking Red is a flavor? You think watching people drive in a circle is entertaining!
◄
Ralph Paton	I like the wrecks
Gwenda Reed	Angry face guy thinks red is a flavor
◄	You know I'm from Delaware, right? Dover Downs.
Ralph Paton	- Cool guy likes NASCAR
Gwenda Reed	= You listening to N.W.A.
◄	I'm pretty sure they are all the same guy, by the way.
Ralph Paton	= You being forced to watch a race
◄	You're probably right. Same dude.
Gwenda Reed	This is one of the best conversations I've ever had and I'm going to have to put it on my blog

Would I, Wouldn't I?

The shots have gotten a lot better. I still have some itching but I don't freak out like I did. Actually, I was driving home from work, dead tired and knowing that I had to go to the pet store to buy things for my lord and master, The Destruktor, when I realized that I don't think about the fact that I have MS like I used to. I had a delivery of medication at work on Thursday and forgot about it, leaving it in the break room refrigerator. I just don't obsess like I used to. This is, obviously, awesome and to be expected, and I'm over the moon that it has only take a few months, but it got me thinking about my other chronic and life long problem, that of bi polar disorder.

I haven't read a great deal about mental illness. Yes, I have a BA in Psychology and I find that subject fascinating, but I mainly enjoy individual and group psychology as it applies to human dynamics. I don't go scouring journals to read up on treatments or anything. But I did once read that many of those who have suffered from unipolar depression for years often are afraid of the drugs, not because of side effects or anything, but because, well, without the depression they've suffered for so long, who are they? Don't quote me, as I'm probably wrong, but I feel like I learned this from Elizabeth Wurtzel, one of my favorite authors.

It got me thinking. If someone came and told me that they could make me no longer suffer from bi polar disorder, would I accept that offer? I don't know. We often think about what we would tell our younger selves and if I could speak to 17 year old Cat, I would definitely scream "get help!There is something wrong with you that is treatable and you don't have to be so unhappy and fucked up!" I would do that to keep from having the memories of embarrassing times, of humiliating times, of stupid decisions. But 17 was a long time ago. I'm still proud of 22 year old Cat for recognizing the signs of bi polar disorder and seeking treatment, even though I wasn't very good about taking my pills for some time. But it has been seven years since I've been on the puppy uppers and doggy downers and they've done wonders for me, even if I don't have the same brain chemistry as a 'normal' person.

Would I accept the offer to no longer be bi polar now? I don't know. If someone said they could take away the MS without replacing it with something worse, I'd jump on that shit like I'd jump on Jude Law's cock. But bi polar is different because at this stage, I don't remember what it is like to have anything different. I don't remember what it was like to have emotions and moods and feelings without the control of pills.  Someone once asked me, someone who knew of my 'condition', if bi polar individuals are more self absorbed than others. I didn't take offense, not right away, but just considered the question and responded "I don't know. I no longer know what it is like to be NOT bi polar."

And that's really it. This is what I know. Maybe I'd be really great, really smart, funny, witty, and wonderful. But maybe I'd be stodgy and boring. Maybe I'd be a version of me that I didn't know. I wonder what would be worse, being a me that I know that people didn't like, or a version of me that people did like because I wasn't really me anymore.

The fact of the matter is that right now this isn't really something I have to deal with because science hasn't figured it out yet. There are simple questions that I can answer readily, such as yes, I would like to be just a bit taller, a lot thinner, have a bigger rack, have better hair, be more poised, sophisticated, and controlled. But I think I'd be happier having those things if I could still be me, even considering how much of me I dislike. I'm familiar to myself, as we all are, and as much as I rail against and complain about it, it's what I know.

I Spy

I'm there, they just can't see me. That's because I'm huddled under my desk, rocking back and forth, and silently weeping from being so fucking overwhelmed with work. It feels like the mature thing to do and I recommend it wholeheartedly. I thought about going to my car as an alternative, but it is hot and humid out there and so is the inside of my car. At $4 a gallon, I'd rather not waste my gas by blasting the air conditioning just so I can have a quiet cry. So under my desk it is.

You're Going To Put Your Eye Out

Clap On, Clap Off
The weather in Columbus, save for that little Tornado warning, has turned quite nice lately. OK, not nice exactly, as it is a bit warmer than I'd like, but nice enough. So yesterday I decided to put on my sneakers and try running outdoors again since I've canceled my gym membership. It was quite nice but I was out of practice, so much so that I did something really obnoxious. There I was, jogging along with my iPod in and doing circuits around the neighborhood on the sidewalk, when two girls were suddenly approaching me. They were walking two abreast but they saw me so I figured they'd move to single file for a moment. Only they didn't. Actually, one of them turned around and started walking backwards, continuing to talk to her friend. Did I yell "to the right" or "to the left", whichever it might have been? No. Did I run around the girl, going into the sopping wet grass to avoid her? No.

I clapped.

I don't know what came over me but I clapped loud and obnoxiously to let her know I was approaching and to get her to move. I was a bit indignant about it at first, you know, "what the fuck, bitch? You looked at me and saw me coming but didn't think you should move?" But then I just felt like a complete ass and hoped I'd see them on my next lap to apologize. I didn't, as it happened, but I did convince myself that it wasn't unforgivable. After all, if you are going to be obnoxious and not get out of the way of a runner that you see coming at you, than I am allowed to treat you like an idiot by clapping to get you to move. Your move strange girl.

Taxi!

It's that time again! Tax season. I've had my W2 for ages and I asked J for his a couple of times but he hadn't gotten it. I think the last time I saw him was two weeks ago and I brought it up then. He told me he didn't assume that we'd file together since we are separated and I told him that filing jointly would bring the best return but that I would defer to him and just send me his W2 if he wanted to do so. Well, he never did so I emailed him the other day asking how he wanted to file, not that I wanted to press him on the matter, but we are getting close to the deadline. He said he was going to file his own and I asked how, as married but filing separately or as legally separated. "Whatever the H&R Block Guy says" was his reply. Well, today he found out that it was in his best bet to file jointly so he sent me his W2. I could have screamed but didn't. I simply replied that I knew that was the answer but didn't want to push the issue. But really? I did our taxes last year and a colleague at work did them the two previous years and filing jointly has always been the best bet. And, get this, I can learn!

I didn't take it personally, however. I'm pretty sure he forgot that I'd told him jointly was the way to go. But whatever. I didn't plan on doing this tonight but I decided to restart my filing as a married couple and saw my return go down. I then created a new account to see what J would face if he filed separated. I found that he would owe over $200 federally with a $79 state return and so I emailed to let him know that tax guy and I were right, he benefits by filing jointly. He asked if that meant I wanted to file separately so that I wouldn't be dragged down by him and I said of course not. He then said he didn't want to cost me any more money than he already has, which was a bit heartbreaking and maddening. It isn't as though I haven't cost him money. When we were living together, our finances were almost entirely joint. I went to the ER a few times, as well as Urgent Care once, and had to see numerous specialists. We didn't have a flexible spending account so we had to use credit cards. I didn't ensure that the money to pay my monthly payment only came from "my" funds. So it just makes sense to file jointly to keep him from owing.

A pleasant surprise is that I don't feel inclined to do this out of charity; it's simply the right thing to do. But that is something I didn't think about with this whole separation-eventual-divorce thing, tax discussions. When I asked about how he would file when he was going to do it on his own, I asked if he was going to file as married but filing separately or as legally separated. There has been no official documentation to say we are formally separated, but I don't know if that filing status would cause him problems with health benefits. He is still my husband and we do still have a joint checking account (with about $6 in it) so in my mind, he is still my husband. Thus, he can be covered under my benefits. And until he gets a job that has decent health coverage, or until we are officially divorced, I'd like to keep him covered. I suppose that can be seen as charitable and worrying about him but again, it just seems to be the right thing to do because he has crap coverage and some serious medical problems. It just seems like what you should do.

I suppose this is what it's like to be a great big grown up. It's difficult and practical and responsible. Sure, there is a lot of fun to be had as an adult, what with all the things you can legally do, but it is also pretty shit in some ways. Parents, teachers, and authoritarians like to say "it's fun until someone gets hurt" to chastise children. What they don't tell you is that it never stops. What's worse is that it can stop being fun even if no one is hurt. Lousy adulthood.

I like to think this is why I still eat so much candy - my own little act of defiance.

Career Services

You know what must be a fantastic job? Animal Cracker Designer. I was talking to Hunter earlier today about my animal crackers because most of them are indistinguishable blobs and yet the cow has udders. I don't think he understood my concern at first because he took it upon himself to explain that udders are girl parts and only girl cows have them whilst bulls have penises. He's an expert on bovine genitalia and seeing as I'm helping him update his CV, I think I would be remiss if I didn't work that in there somewhere under "Special Skills."

Eventually I gave up using my words and sent him a picture. As you can see, Stouffer's isn't too concerned about capturing the true essence of most animals. 

 I think "Fat dog with a bump on his head"is actually supposed to be a hippo.

Seriously, what the fuck is that sloth/polar bear that seems to be ravaging the South East? And is seal dog supposed to be a lion or something? 

And yet they took the time to give the cow udders!

At this point, I instant messaged Hunter so that he would know that I had animal crackers all over my desk. If I had access to facebook, that would have been one a status update. Because people need to know these things.

He was fairly aghast at the lack of definition in the crackers and proceeded on something of a tirade about how I must be eating the generic kind and did I need money for the good kind of animal crackers. I know, right? Who knew he was such a connoisseur?  But that's when I realized that head of design of animal crackers must be one of the sweetest jobs out there. And I'd be a natural! Here are a few designs I whipped up:

I don't think I'm too far off, do you? Hunter did suggest that I write a letter to the good folks at Stouffer's expressing my concern about the shitty shapes. I asked if it should be strongly worded and he said that yes, to a degree, it should, but that I didn't want to make enemies. So far this is what I have:

Dear Sir or Madam,

      Here is a picture of a cat that I found on the internet.

Here is a picture of what I think is supposed to be a cat as found in my bag of your delicious animal crackers.

 What the fuck, dude, how do you explain that?

Yours respectfully,

Cat

Maybe they'll put it on their website as a customer testimonial. I don't really mind, though. I like a little mystery in my animal crackers. I mean, why should Stouffer's do all the work? And it's obvious that the person who designed these particular crackers is somehow related to whomever it is that designed the boundaries* in this country. With the animal crackers, you can make out the horse, camel, elephant, bison, and llama (if it is a llama). Everything else is pretty much a crap shoot. And this is what the U.S. looks like:

The cartographer finished Texas and Minnesota and then said "fuck this."

See how the east coast has a whole bunch of interesting shapes? And then you get to the west and it's basically rectangles and squares? At some point, the person in charge of defining boundaries got fed up with the thankless task and decided squares were fine, squares were great. 

Animal crackers guy probably just lost enthusiasm like map drawing guy. It happens to the best of us.

*I know that it wasn't just some guy who decided on state boundaries so no need to tell me I'm stupid. Everyone knows that elves did it.

How a Boy Feels

"sites:blogspot.com masturbating teen girls"

Someone got to this blog using those keywords. That's pretty specific, isn't it? This person wants to watch multiple teen girls masturbating. I'm sure s/he found what s/he was looking for, but doesn't it seem like only a single teen girl masturbating would suffice? And why masturbation? It doesn't strike me as something that would turn me on, watching some girl play with her honey badger. But to each their own and who am I to judge? Nobody, that's who.

Speaking of judging, I had my evaluation this afternoon and it went even better than I had hoped. OK, full disclosure, I did panic for the thirty minutes leading up to the meeting but Hunter very kindly kept me company on instant messenger and did not make fun of me one bit for continually asking things like "what if I hyperventilate and pass out?" or "what if I start to cry?" or, my favorite, "what if I throw up?" He even offered to call my boss and tell him to be nice to me but he knew I wouldn't go for that (imagine the conversations there would be about why a VP in a different division of the company was concerned about people being nice to me). I think I just expressed my anxiety well enough that he knew I was freaking out and he, like most friends, wanted to make it stop. He couldn't assuage my anxiety altogether, so he did the next best thing and made me laugh a couple of times. Unfortunately, he made me laugh hysterically right before my meeting was to begin so I was a bit off balance*.

But the evaluation went really well and I was very pleased. I even got a raise! I don't know how much because my boss forgot the percentage number and could only tell me that he gave me the highest he could in my bracket (which was awesome). I thanked him and spoke to him very honestly. It was a surprisingly good evaluation given how astute his eval was and how kind and open he was. I really think this next year might actually be better now that I've seen the evaluation.

Next Day
I found out my raise and it was sadly low. Manager told me he gave me the highest available in my bracket and Hunter, who is also a manager, told me that I must be at 120% of my position. This is cool because it means that in only a few years, I've gotten to the point where I make as much as I can. But, on the other hand, if I want to make more money, I need to get a promotion or just get a new job in my company. This is unsettling because it means I might have to leave what I love; alternatively, I need to convince my boss and HR that my position needs to be expanded. 

Manager, during my evaluation, even asked if I had any feedback for him. I didn't feel I could be totally candid so what I did say was that I would like it if he would email more but I did let him know that I've found a work around as I email him after a conversation for clarification so that I have the documentation. He just said "manager up, got it". And today he proved he took it seriously today because when I requested to leave early and he said OK and then came to me and said, to paraphrase, "I'm not worried about you leaving early but I've made a life decision to not leave things till year end. Now, in the last x amount of months in 2011, you had a number of absences..." He was basically letting me know, in the nicest way possible, that he was worried it might be a negative pattern, that he understood that I had a rough time for the past six months of last year, but he wanted to be a good manager. Suffice it to say that I've texted him to thank him for coming to me because it makes me feel like he listened to me. I spent the majority of my time as his employee managing myself. If I can help him understand his role, I'm pleased. And let's face it, like I tell everyone, we never stop testing our boundaries and if you don't let us know when we reach the line, we will keep on. I think this is good for the both of us. And I have been nothing but sincere with the man since my evaluation (OK, so it is less than two days but I plan on keeping it up).

Weird Fear Unnecessary

One of the things I talked about during my evaluation, at the point when Manager asked me what I needed from him, was the fact that my work load has greatly increased. I let him know from the word go that I loved my work and I was actually really happy about the volume. However, Father Time has not granted me any favors and, thus, each hour remains the same sixty minutes that it always has. I asked if I might begin a log on Monday to track where my time was spent so that we might go to HR to see if I can't be salaried. To do this, we will have to prove to HR that I need to have my business title changed to my job title and have them understand that it isn't an hourly position. It really isn't. One half of my job has exploded, much like it did roughly two years ago, and so I'm deluged with work. Again, I'm happy with most of it. What I'm not happy about is not having enough time to attend to each matter 100% like I'd prefer. If I spend four hours doing X, I can guarantee these days that in a week's time I'll most likely spend another four hours doing X, two hours doing Y, and, hopefully, four more hours doing Z. This portion of my work is never ending because I need to recruit, process, and then reprocess for those who have been with my company for two years. You don't need to know the specifics, they'd bore you frankly, but it is time consuming. If that is all I did, things would be great. But I also serve as an assistant and a general executive dogsbody so really, there is too much for the time I have. I suggested the log as a way to see if I'm really in need of more hours or if I just need to identify areas where I can improve efficiency.

Frankly, I hope I can manage a raise and a salaried position. More money is always nice and I'd require it to go salary. But a salaried position would allow me to work over eight hours a day and I truly do like to work. I once told Hunter "can I tell you a secret? I actually like work." And I do! It isn't just that I like the minutia of what I do, but that I enjoy the challenges, the productivity, and the sense of accomplishment. I think I truly am a workaholic at heart but I am aware enough to know that I need to be compensated fairly.

For those who still wonder about my relationship with PW, know this: when I first considered asking Manager about whether or not we could make me salaried, I asked for her advice. I asked Hunter what he thought and he encouraged me to do so but I still asked PW because I knew she'd probably have decent information for me. And she did, thank goodness. I'm so glad I went to her because she did what she always does, considered the issue, told me what I'd need to do, and then quickly found some information I was lacking. I'm hoping she is still comfortable with me, as I am with her, and take it as a good sign that she instant messaged me to see how it went if I'd brought up the salary idea with Manager. I told her what happened and, sincerely, let her know that I would keep her in the loop if I got more information. It was relief, honestly, to interact with her normally. What happened between us happened and we haven't spoken about it. But I hope we can maintain the relationship we previously had as a I truly do appreciate her knowledge and experience and I know she is always a great resource to go to.

In Conclusion

I will leave you with this. Today was a day of heavy data entry and I told Hunter that this meant I would be listening to N.W.A. At one point the following conversation happened:

ME "Dr. Dre uses the term 'predicate' in rap. How can people not appreciate this music more?"
 HUNTER "You should recruit him for your panel. He is a doctor after all."
ME "Yes, but his doctorate is in cold rockin it, not a medical specialty."
ME "I've got a doctorate in cold rockin it is a lyric from a Roots song."
HUNTER"Root the movie"
ME "(hysterical laughter) No, the rap/hip hop group, not the movie."