Life thru the haze of cat hair.

Category Archives: Don't even bother to read this

Oh, hello! Good to see you again. Have some strawberries and other fresh fruit.


True to form, I’ve been M.I.A. for a while. I honestly don’t set out to be so lax. My intention is to come here and write but then life gets in my way.


Work has been crazy busy – 10-12 hour days busy. I don’t like it. At all. By the time I get home from work, I am so physically and mentally exhausted that it’s all I can do to get dinner for myself and The Wonder Twins.

I have a new manager at the Gas ‘n Sip too, so having to break him in is extra work. *heh* So far, he is good. He puts up with my venting and is good about providing solid feedback.


Also going on is that there are several family members that are having surgery in the next 4 weeks. Yes, I said several. It’s been extremely stressful, even though I don’t want to believe it.  One of the surgeries could potentially impact my life significantly, depending on the outcome. Actually, I suppose all of them could impact my life depending on the outcome. I don’t think I want to think about that.


I’ve been asked to help my niece practice driving so that she can get her license. Apparently, the Sister and BIL can’t deal with her attitude when they drive with her. My feeling is that they are hyper-critical. I’ve been out with her a couple of times. She does okay. She just needs practice.


I am currently on 2 weeks holiday from the Gas ‘n Sip. I wish my time off was being spent in Paris or on a safari or something equally fabulous. Alas, I am here, providing transport, moral support, and other assistance as needed for said family members during the pre-op weeks.

I might paint my bathroom though. That’s exciting, right?


So what’s going on in your lives?

My plea to the universe last week (month?) hasn’t proved fruitful. Yet. But I’m in a better place than I was. So that’s good.


I had to go to Canadia last week for work. The Gas ‘n Sip was having an event that had all the Slurpee managers coming together to gush about how swell the year was. It’s fascinating, really.

The local airport recently unveiled its new expansion. It’s quite lovely. Security is in the new section and the ceiling is all exposed beam. But it feels all big-city-ish. Luckily, the Gas ‘n Sip doesn’t make me travel much anymore, so that’s good.

I spent the first day in Canadia in meetings. Yes. It was just as boring as you think it would be. Then I went to the hotel. I hadn’t stayed at that one before, but all my coworkers love it so I thought I would give it a chance. Meh. It was a hotel. Nothing special. I don’t have to stay there again.

The room service menu didn’t have wine listed on it, so I went down to the bar and asked for 2 glasses of Pinot Grigio. More specifically, I pointed at the wine list and said, “May I have 2 of these?” To which the pourtender said, “2 bottles?” Really? So I responded, “Well, if this was a normal night, I would say yes. But since it’s a work night, I’ll take 2 glasses.”

The second day was all met at the event center. Begin the presentations of how super-duper everything is at the Gas n’ Sip, and you begin the day of fun. The past year was marvelous. The coming year will be marvelous. There were rainbows and unicorns all over the place.

Then, about halfway through the morning, I look down and almost poked my own eye out. How? The underwire from my bra had come shooting out and was thisclose to stabbing me. Luckily, the lights were dimmed for some video about slurpee ice consistency, so I had a few seconds to pull it completely out and put it in my bag. I am all kinds of klassy up in here. I had uneven bewbs for the rest of the day.

I think that was all the fun I had in Canadia this time. Maybe next time will be better.


I have also joined The Band. Do you know about The Band? Check them out.

I love them so much.


I think that’s it. Man, my life needs a little shake up.

Miss me?


I have 4,396 blank journals. I think it’s a borderline sickness. I love buying them. I love looking for pretty ones. And I get them all with the best of intentions. I don’t honestly mean to write on the first page or two and then put it aside for the next new, pretty book.

I’m pretty sure that if I wrote an average of 2-3 pages a day, steadily, it would take me about 3 years to get through all the journals I currently have. It’s crazy. I would love to donate them (sans my initial efforts, of course) but I don’t know who would take them.


My house was broken into yesterday. The front door had been kicked in. What did they take? Abso-frickin-lutely NOTHING. It’s very odd. My laptop was right there. My emerald ring was right there. My Ambien was right there. F*ckers.

The stranger part of this is that I live on a crazy-busy (for this area) corner, with an average of 100-500 cars/hour going by and they did it IN BROAD DAYLIGHT!!! Whoever did it has a huge set, let me tell you. AND, one of my back windows was open to give the cats some air. Burglers are stupid.

Also? Despite having watched 10,000 hours of crime shows? I touched everything before I called the police. Good going, MaM!  *eye roll*

And? Finger print dust makes a crazy mess.

Oh, well, it could have been so much worse. Right?


I am down to 40 days before the Tri. I am in no way, shape, or form “ready” for it. But I’m going to go, and have fun. And hopefully change my life.


I *really* want a new job. I have finally reached the decision that I am not enjoying what I am doing. However, I don’t want to just jump to some other random job. I don’t want to feel this way again in 6 months. I want to find something that excites me.

Now. To just figure out what that is.


Thank you, Debra.



Oh, hello!! I won’t even bother about the mess. I have a cleaner coming in. Help yourself to some spaghetti and meatballs.

I’m not dead. And if you have stopped by while I have been gone, THANK YOU! I don’t know why you would do that, but I appreciate it.

So, where have I been? And why haven’t I written?

I’ll start with the latter. I haven’t written because I haven’t felt like I had anything to say. Maybe I’ve been thinking about it too much. Or not enough. Then, the longer I went without posting, the more I didn’t want to post. Like when you don’t call someone for a while, and then the longer you wait to call, it gets more awkward? Yeah, that’s how I feel. Or felt. Or feel. I don’t know. I’ll see how it goes.

Where have I been? Right here. I haven’t “been” anywhere. I had 2 weeks off in August and had great huge plans to post every day. Then my friend Moo and her husband came up from Texas for the weekend. It was nice to actually meet her IRL. She’s as lovely as I knew she would be.

Then work has been… work. The Gas ‘n Sip can be very stressful and when I think about the possibility of maybe not having a job in a few months, it makes it worse. Of course, that is mostly in my own mind that I won’t have a job. I have been given no indication that that is the case.

Then I decided that there has to be more to life that what I am doing. Work. Life. Emotions. All of it. I decided that I need to find a job in other state or country. But am I doing it for adventure or am I trying to run away from my life? I think I need to find that out before I do anything. OR, as I type that, a new question. Is the theory that I need to figure things out before I do anything, part of what is making me stuck? A conundrum, I think.

I’ve been looking at other blogs and books and seeing the steps others are taking to make changes. I have such admiration for all the steps and hard things these people have taken and worked through to get better. To make their lives better. I want to do that. I really want to do that too. But I am afraid. Still.

The only thing I have sort of kept current with is Twitter. But even that has been at a lesser level. I think some of my connections on there have been real. But others? Nah. It’s not like I feel like I can just pick up the phone and call any of them. It all goes back to that not wanting to be a burden thing.

So, there you have it. My first post back after my sabbatical. I hope to get better. Soon.


Oh, hello! Come on in and have a taste of blueberry pie. But watch the stains on your teeth. I have extra toothbrushes for those who need them.


A quick hello to Mr. Farty! I think you commented for the first time. I will be honest – I SQUEEd when I saw your comment… including the fart. Welcome to my very neglected blog.


I haven’t been around much. Not for any major or catastrophic reason though. More as a function of the fact that I really didn’t think I had anything to say. And if *I* think I’m boring, I certainly don’t want to subject *you* to that. You’re welcome.


K2Kid and I went to see SATC2. Oh. Mah. Gah. If you haven’t seen it yet, and are thinking about it, or thinking about waiting to get it on DVD, don’t even bother. It was that bad. It was forced, and contrived, and it tried WAY to hard. The ladies have NOT aged well… or at least the cameras made it seem that way. Samantha is still slutty, Charlotte is still a goody-goody, Carrie is still nagging Big, and Miranda is still icky. This isn’t even a fun, rainy-day movie that you could pop in for something mindless. Save yourself $9 and 2 hours and watch the first one again. Or watch Mamma Mia. At least those two were fun. And mindless.


My seeming year of reading memoirs continues with “The Year We Disappeared” by Cylin Busby and John Busby. It’s the story of John and what happens to him and his family after he gets shot in the face on the way to work one night. He was a cop on Cape Cod. The chapters switch back and forth from John to Cylin, who is John’s daughter. She was 9 at the time this happened. Her chapters are written from the perspective of her 9-year-old self. His chapters are told from his perspective at that time. The shooting occurred in 1979. Overall, it was an interesting story and it read very fast. I would have liked to hear more about the wrong cops who failed to properly investigate, but I guess that might be another story.  I’d give it 7 out of 10.


I was going to do a post about how this year I have decided to embrace my “girliness”. You know, more dresses, matching unmentionables, high heels, better makeup, blah blah blah. But then the week that causes me to HATE being a girl happened and blew that out the window. Maybe another time.


I have been participating in an online class workshop exercise something that is meant to encourage participants to take more time to rest and play and generally enjoy life. The purpose is to be kinder to yourself and ultimately get more out of your life. What have I learned so far? I have no idea how to play.


What else….. I don’t know. I guess that is it for…. OH!


I’ve been thinking about NaNoWriMo. I only found out about it last year in the last week of October, so I had no time to prepare. It’s a writing event, designed to encourage free writing of quantity over quality. 50,000 words in 30 days with no editing. It’s a wonderful way to stretch your creative muscles and write a novel in a month. I signed up last year and only made it to about 15,000 words. And what started out as a “novel”, with a “plot line”, devolved into more of an online journal. And it was BAD!

So I’ve been thinking about it for this year. And I thought I would start to develop an outline or at least characters on which to build a story.  Yeah. I think any writing creativity has left the building. I know I should “write what I know” but if I am to base a story on my life? SNOOZE FEST!!! I will likely be skipping the even this year. But I will be there cheering on others who I know are participating!!


Okay. That’s it. I’m done. Have a lovely day.

Oh, hello! Have a Skinny Cow ice cream cone. Yummy!

This may be a stream of consciousness type post. But I’m serious. Stop reading.

I am completely sick of myself. Have you ever gotten to that point? (You can’t answer, because you stopped reading up there when I recommended it.) Judas priest. It seems like there should be more. A better job. Less fear. More confidence – in myself, my abilities, my life. More… Just more.

And despite how much time I spend thinking about how to make that happen, or reading about how to make that happen, or wishing to make that happen, it seems that all end up doing is whining about it more. It’s like I’m sick of where I am but afraid to move on or try for more. So then it becomes my fault for not doing something, and then OH MY GOD! JUST SHUT UP ALREADY!!!!

I want to be thin. I want to write. I want to be in a happy relationship. I want I want I want. Well, then DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!! STOP TALKING ABOUT IT AND JUST START.

Why is it so hard for me (or, I suspect, many people) to make changes – positive changes – in my life?  Is it fear only? Fear of the unknown? Fear of leaving what is comfortable?

I mean, really. What is the worst thing that can happen? I fail? I don’t lose weight? I send out a resume and don’t hear back? SO WHAT! That doesn’t make me a bad person. At least I could say I tried.

I am so sick of being afraid. And I’m so sick of saying this over and over. And I’m so sick of wallowing in my own uncertainty. And I’m so sick of myself right now. UGH.

I need to shake this off. I need to move past this. I don’t know if putting it out here will help. God knows, I haven’t put good use to any of the 47,312 blank journals I have. I have every intention, when I buy them, to write all my deep, dark thoughts in them. Pfft. I put them on the shelf next to all the other good intentions.

But. How do I start? I feel like I am completely out of control in my life. I feel overwhelmed and at a loss. I don’t know where to start or how to start or what to start with. A plan would probably help, but I don’t even know where to start with that either!

God, I’m boring. What’s that Nike slogan? It sounds easy…. but give me a second, and I’m sure I’ll find a way to complicate it and end up completely whipped up and whimpering in the corner.

Oh, hello! Come on in and have a whoopie pie. NOM NOM

I often find myself alone. I think it’s how I roll. And I like to tell myself that it’s ok. I’m ok with that.

But then I read other peoples’ blogs and see how introspective they are and how they face their “stuff” and move through it and come out stronger and, well, better than they were. And true to form, I start thinking about how I spend my time alone.

I don’t know if I can just sit. Just sit and be with myself. Not for very long anyway. I have to be doing something. Reading. Watching television. (Or at least have the TV on in the background.) Tooling around on the interwebs. Listening to the radio. Just anything.

Often, I find myself wishing to quiet the noise in my head. Just to ssshhhhhh. But I can’t seem to do it. I’ve tried meditating. I can last about 31 seconds. I’ve tried turning everything off and just hearing… nothing. But then I think of all the things I “have” to do.

So, what *is* that? What is it in my head that I am afraid to face? Why can I not turn off the television instead of watching repeats of shows I’ve seen 13 times at least? Why, if I do turn off the TV, do I immediately pick up a book? Why, when I finish said book, I *immediately* pick up another one, without allowing myself to let the first one settle? Why am I afraid?

Why am I afraid to look too closely? What happened that I can’t, or won’t, face? What if there is nothing that I am not facing? What if I am just so vapid that I don’t actually have deep thoughts or a hidden past? What if I actually run out of questions to ask or my question mark key breaks? (Just seeing if you are still reading…)

I don’t know the answer. I certainly won’t come up with it now, while I have TweetDeck on in the other tab, the hockey game on the television and my brother texting me updates from another hockey game. Maybe I’ll be able to spend some time this coming weekend cogitating on my dilemma. I just know that I don’t want to live my life afraid. If something is holding me back, I want to face it and to get all the great things that are coming to me. Life is full of wonder – I just don’t want to be full of wonder about myself.