The Money Shot... I Think Not!

Okay... brace yourselves...

Wiz Man calls Friday, only after I said, for the upteenth time, that texting is not my thing. The conversation was fine at first. He wanted to know if i were free Saturday or Sunday for a second date. Then something went terribly, terribly wrong:

"Send me a picture of your boobs. Full frontal."

What the hell?!! Hell no!

Gratuitously, I reminded him that such behavior would be inappropriate, and refrained from cussing him out. I mentioned something about boundaries and he redirected the discussion, briefly.

"Okay. I've got to go in a minute, but let's play a little Q&A for a minute." He said.

He asked some routine-ish questions, as did I, all the while wondering what the hell this guy was really up to. And I soon got the answer to that question, without even having to ask:

"Sooooooo," he says, "spit or swallow?"

How about a kiss... as in kiss my ass, pervert!!

There ya have it. Proof positive that this guy is a definite no go. Just a definite NO all around.

Be Afraid. Be Very Afraid?

After much personal contemplation, and a complete surrender to the constant threats of my married co-workers setting me up... I decided to give dating a conscious effort. Some five weeks after posting my humiliating online dating profile... I have committed to my first date; which takes place this evening around seven.

Out of curiosity and a lack of urgent business to handle at work, I searched "what to wear on a first date." I randomly selected an article that gave some seemingly sound advice until I came across this statement:

"Men have definite feelings about and reactions to make-up, and if your face looks noticeably different, he will become frightened and disoriented."

What?!

Do men really, truly, become frightened and disoriented from the sight of lipgloss? The frosty blue eye shadow of the 70's and Tammy Faye Baker's eyelashes... frighten even me... but reading this makes me a little nervous! I'd hate to think my decision to wear light brown instead of dark brown eye shadow might be the cause of rampant male psychosis.

If I called my ex-boyfriends and asked, "Did you become frightened and disoriented when I wore the pink blush instead of peach? Is that why our relationship fell apart?" I think THAT would be entirely more frightening.

Mandatory Hiatus

I've gone and done it now! I worked so many long hours pulling together our team for the community-wide competition (part of my work project), that I was "forced" to take three days off. "If I see you before Monday, you are going to be in big trouble," my boss said with a smile.

A normal response would be one of excitement... mine... mine was one of resistance. I really wanted to get the event photographs together and send them off to all of our team mates; which would have led to more emails, press releases, post-event planning... and alas, more long days. Had I not been extremely exhausted from our two-day conference out of town, I might have fought harder, but in hindsight, I'm glad to have my mandatory hiatus.

I earned it!

On the way back from our conference, we got a call from one of the girls that had somehow beat us back to the office. It seems the highly competitive grant I conceptualized in the first few weeks I worked there, was awarded to our organization! Not only is it super cool that we got such a prestigious grant, it's super cool that I now get to keep my job! What a ride this year has been!

Tuesday night was the first night of my "Sculpting the Human Form" class. I was so frickin' exhausted from the weekend of competitions, the art show, and the conference, that I strongly considered "skipping." Not only was I tired, I knew there would be a nude model! Could I behave myself? Would I behave myself? Is it a woman? A man?

As it turns out, our model is a man wearing nothing but flesh-colored high cut briefs. Surprisingly, I kept my giggles to myself, even when I was forced to sculpt his buttocks! Ha! And let me just tell you, that if you ever want a flattering sculpture of your ass... I'm your girl. I can make a mighty fine ass out of wheatstone clay! I'll be taking my camera to the next class just to prove it!

Wednesday... Wednesday was a napping marathon; one my body needed desperately. I had finally come down from the stress and anxiety of months of solitary planning for work, combined with the uncertainty of funding for my future employment and a back full of torn muscles from a tug-of-war tournament. I was giving Rumpelstiltskin a run for his money!

Today... I slept in until 9:30 and made myself blueberry pancakes that I ate in bed. After becoming fed up with my state of sloth... I went outside and primed part of the last side of my house to be painted. I'm so very close to finishing this mammoth project, but so very very over it! Can't I just be done already!?

When I came in for a break, I was mindlessly searching the Internet. One of my exes came up in conversation a few weeks ago, so I Googled his name... only to find out he may have fled the country in lieu of litigation against himself and his company for "ponzi-like" schemes!! I always knew that guy was a schmuck! I had met him several years ago during a bout of weight-gain induced self-esteem loss from a back injury that forced me to drop out of college temporarily. At first, I thought he walked on water... and then I found out he just simply walked on people. He was obsessed with money and constantly trying to convince me that my way of life was for fools; that working for him was the only path to my financial salvation. I was drowning in tuition debt at the time, and gave some consideration to joining his company... but when I wasn't satisfied with his weak explanation of what exactly it was that they did, I thought better of it. And boy am I glad I did!! I stuck around for a few years trying to make him a better person (I'm so glad I broke myself of that idiotic habit) and stayed in touch with him sporadically until just a few years ago. Oddly enough, I remembered his birthday this year, and almost called him. Now, after reading posts that he may have fled the country, I'm curious as to whether or not he still has the same phone number, but I'm not going to risk being investigated by the feds just to appease this curiosity. This comes as no surprise, considering he wouldn't even donate a mere $5 to my fundraising efforts years ago. He was a shitty tipper too! Tricking people out of millions seems right up his alley.

I suppose I'll have to spend tomorrow working on my house. Either that, or I'll have to go shopping for new knee length boots. I might even have to meet a good friend for lunch too. Saturday, I'll be reunited with Chester, whom I've been on a mandatory hiatus from due to the holiday weekend, and then our big three-day competitions. Sunday? Who knows.

Nervous Nelly!

Nervous Nelly. This is my new identity. My new affliction. After 302 days without a job, 302 days of struggling to maintain a sense of hope... I find myself very nervous, and in complete disbelief that tomorrow, yes, tomorrow, morning is my first day at my new job.

At least I think so.

This whole experience has been down right bizarre! I "found" the job by simply placing a profile on a volunteer web site; my intention being to volunteer. Within a week I was being advised to turn in a resume for an upcoming part-time, temporary position. Last week I met with the Human Resources director who told me that the women I had met with for a volunteer orientation had told her to hire me, and that they were very impressed with me. As I sat there, I realized how much my ability to "sell myself" is lacking. Thankfully they had had the opportunity to interact with me and form their own opinions, because if it were up to me to tell them how extraordinarily qualified and fabulous I am... I'm afraid I would have failed. During our meeting, they assured me that they will work around my ceramics class, are understanding of the fact that I really need a full-time permanent job and "will be happy" for me if I do get one, but did want me to know that I could very well wind up working for them permanently. The pay will be three dollars more an hour than the job I lost in April. WHAT? Where is the catch? What is this? Are they really planning on abducting me and conducting illegal scientific research on my body parts in an undisclosed underground labratory in Mexico?

I feel terrible that I simply don't believe this is true! Is being unemployed in this faltering economy really that powerful? I suppose it must be! The old cliche, "if it's too good to be true..." keeps haunting me, so perhaps my refusal to celebrate, or even believe that I have a job is a defense mechanism to avoid serious disappointment. But IF this is real, and if I can make this job turn into something permanent, I'll be able to continue my ceramics, attend my paralegal schooling full-time, and the big score: PAY MY BILLS!

I report to duty at 9 a.m. I haven't even bothered myself with the "what do I wear" dilemma yet. I'll probably save that for 3 in the morning when I'm tossing and turning and unable to sleep because I'm full of anxiety. At least I know what to expect from myself. And maybe after the paperwork is filled out, maybe then I'll actually be able to say outloud, "I have a JOB!!"

What I Learned About Michigan Today...

Considering the old saying "no news is good news," and the fact that I can't really stand to know the true magnitude of economic failure in Michigan... I try not to devote too much time and attention to the local news. It's like knowing there was a terrible car crash, but looking the other way.

But, as I was minding my own mindless business, playing a game of Scrabble against "FlakieFreda57," some local news factoids snuck into my ears and banged on the drums. Here is what I learned about Michigan today:

8,ooo... EIGHT THOUSAND people applied for jobs at the soon-to-be casino, just today; crashing the site temporarily.

1 out of 10 people in Michigan is out of work. (Scrabble anyone?)

According to our genius Governor Granholm, the computer system that maintains unemployment benefits is "so old they don't even make parts for it anymore." Huh. Sounds like you were really on the ball there! Don't tell me no one saw THIS coming. Shit, Jen, next time call me... I've got all day to tell you what isn't working!

Michigan spends more money on prisons than it does on universities, and Michigan non-violent criminals do 127% more time for similar crimes in other states. That's just disgusting...

Almost 30,000 at-risk Michigan youth are not in school, and do not have a job.

Do you think if I call A&E, that they will get Michigan on the show "Intervention?" I'll be damned if it isn't time for one! No wonder everyone keeps encouraging me to get the hell out of here! And... no wonder no one wants to bring their company here to create those desperately needed jobs. If A&E won't take us, maybe Dr. Phil will. Cause it's time to GET REAL!

Good? Morning

Good Morning "kids."

I'm still up. And I don't know how "good" that is. You see, when I find myself up at pre-normal people hours, I'm left to paid programming, pathetic pondering, and my own devices.

I have to call into the automated unemployment system this morning between 8 and 9 a.m. If I fall asleep now, I'll simply be taking another "nap." If I stay up, I'll surely be doing some napping mid afternoon, which could lead me to staying up until the wee hours... and repeating this insane cycle of sporadic sleep.

I also have an unconfirmed cleaning gig today. I can't confirm it at THIS hour, but if I could, I would certainly entertain the idea of a nap now, to encourage a more normal, productive day. If you would have asked me ten years ago, when I was a misguided, yet employed, late-twenties student/waitress/bartender/manager/administrative assistant, if I planned on being unemployed and cleaning houses once a month in my late 30's... I would have thought YOU to be crazy. Yet, here I am, doing just that. An amateur maid with a college degree, cleaning a friend's grandmother's house in an attempt to make ends meet... this is my life. What happened?

Oh yeah. The entire economy imploded...

I'm watching some show called the "Daily Buzz," and apparently a scientist in Australia is studying the effects of cocaine on honey bees in the hopes of better understanding human cocaine addiction. Huh? Aren't most of us under the impression that the population of honey bees has drastically declined, and therefore a sign of our impending doom? Is a stinger-weilding insect jiffed out on coke really a necessary addition to the madness of our world? I'm probably misinformed, but, I thought we were supposed to be finding ways to save the honeybee population, not turn them into coke-heads. What happened to the simplistic days of "This is your brain on drugs" commercials?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nl5gBJGnaXs

Oh yeah. They didn't work.

I think I'll have fried eggs this morning...

The Haunting

Due to the fact that I, myself, often question my own level of sanity, I have been hesitant to share a bizarre story with you...

I'm being haunted by coffee!

Yes, coffee.

The distinct smell of coffee, one of my absolute favorite simple pleasures, teases my olfactory senses randomly. It happened again today! In fact, I can smell coffee right now!

What is so bizarre about that, you ask?

I haven't made coffee since Christmas morning. The smell was so strong and clear earlier this afternoon, that I actually wondered who was in my house making coffee. Has the "boogey man" broken in and helped himself to a steaming cup of dark roast? And if he has, why hasn't he delivered a cup to my nightstand? Is he not aware that the gravitational forces between my ass and my mattress are so strong that I have been unable to get out of bed today?

This strange phenomenon has occurred sporadically for several months. Despite my secret fascination with dork-friendly shows such as "Ghost Hunters" or "Paranormal State," I have yet to find a plausible explanation for this caffinated craze.

If I recall correctly, this "haunting" only occurs when I am in bed. My bedroom is near the kitchen, and the coffee pot is approximately 25 feet away from my perch. However, as I said earlier, I haven't actually brewed coffee in three days. I don't notice any smell of coffee when I am in the kitchen, the coffee ground containers are sealed, and my coffee pot is clean.

Is this some sort of devine intervention? A "wake (the fuck) up call?"

What the Bloody Hell is Wrong With People?

Never in my life have I deemed the extra 15% discount or free pair of socks worth the uncontrolled cart-ramming chaos of shopping on "Black Friday." It's fucking insane! PEOPLE are insane. There just isn't much else that needs to be said.

Please refer to the following articles for concrete evidence supporting my statement:
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/11/29/business/29walmart.html?

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2008/11/28/socal-toys-r-us-shooting_n_147032.html

What the bloody hell is wrong with people? Jesus, if that's what people will do to get a deal on a damn HD t.v., we are all in big trouble when this looming depression really hits! We will need body armor and Uzis just to survive the government cheese line...

Who takes loaded guns to a toy store?

How much did the poor Wal-Mart guy get paid an hour? And did no one notice a body under their feet?

Beyond tragic... inexcusable, unexplainable, senseless, idiotic, disgusting...

PAY PER VIEW!!!

Oh my God!

I was in my one-size-fits-all-but-doesn't-fit-me lime green robe, grey knee-length wool socks, khaki towel-turban on my freshly showered head, face covered in Noxema, and...

KNOCK! KNOCK!

What? It's 9:45 a.m. I'm only expecting the cable guy... and he's not due until sometime between 10 a.m. and noon.

I get a glimpse of my visitor through the leaded glass; and he's HOT! Surely I'm just going into some type of face cream induced hallucination. As I open the door, mortified, washcloth in hand, I see the "Comcast" badge. It IS my cable guy. And he is H-O-T!

I couldn't have dreamed this more perfectly. A twenty-something, dark-haired, well-built, young man, with soft, supple, kissable skin... and dark dreamy eyes. Lovely white teeth and a devilish, yet boyish, grin.

I managed to sneak some clothes on, dry and flat iron my hair, and add a few cosmetic fixer-uppers before Captain Cable Cutiepants got down from the garage roof. I'm not trying to seduce him, I swear! I'll just be damned if I'm going to sit around in a gigantic green robe and unflattering wool socks while a hot young man is in my lair!

I will confess to wanting to snap a picture of him... partially for my viewing pleasure, but mainly because not a soul would believe this unless they saw it. I still don't believe it. To add to the shear oddity of the situation, I have my Sirius radio tuned to the "Chill" channel, and a remix of the Pet Shop Boys "We All Feel Better In The Dark," complete with climactic moaning, is playing...


I'm wondering if it would be inappropriate to say things like:

"The woman on the phone told me my box was not responding... what do you think?" (As I drop my pants...)

Or,

"What can you tell me about this Pay-per-view stuff? How much do I pay, and what can I view?"

Or,

"Why don't we see if 69 is working?"

Okay... okay. I'm only kidding... kind of.

I'm gonna get back to my "show!"

What Gives?

After my latest bout with sleeplessness, I decided it was time to take a few days off from the world. A few days of peace, quiet and relaxation. A chance to refuel, rejuvenate, rekindle.

How dare I?!

Brian had called a few times. I already messaged him and said I was taking a "time out." Even explained why. Either he doesn't understand English, or plain doesn't give a shit! I just received a message from one of his girl friends, calling from his phone, asking why I hadn't called him back. Are you kidding me? Wasn't high school like twenty years ago?

I'm afraid my guitar lessons may have to cease. I can't have someone pressuring me right now. I'm not very comfortable with this situation. It leaves me wondering if people are capable for giving for the sake of giving. I always wind up "owing" people something. I had offered to help him organize his business in exchange for the lessons. A legitimate barter. I'm not one who takes advantage of people, in fact, I rarely accept help at all, and especially don't ask for it.

I've got a lot on my plate right now. My top priority is solving this job/money situation. Not entering into some strong-armed relationship over guitar lessons. I thought that we could surely be friends after all of this time, and wasn't planning on anything else. I can't plan. I've got "life" to handle right now. Why is this so hard to understand? I made myself pretty clear, or so I thought.

What gives?

Flattery?

Wow! Just had the oddest chat ever with Derek, the younger man from many many months ago. He's 23 I think. And we have never met in real life. We used to chat, but he got a little too weird about doomsday and Jesus for my taste.

Anyway... I thought I would talk to him tonight for a moment and through the course of our conversation I had told him that I had been taking some photographs. He wanted me to share them with him.

Apparently... that struck some kind of chord with him! This is what he said after he told me how beautiful the photographs were, oh, and that I should be a model. (Hello. I'm 37, 5'5, and weigh more than 60 pounds)

After Derek asks me if I want children...

"and yes i know every angle of repsonse u could have to this statement.. but . have my next child.. yes or no.. and yes"

After I tell him that I'd rather have money to put food on the table...

" its a big world.. none of that matters in the long run.. i konw you dont wanna hear it and i dont wanna say it, but in all reality none of that will matter soon.. i want to have a child with u"

Me: well, I want to have money to feed a child so, I'm not signing up for that gig at the moment

Him: live off the state til we can provide lol
im not sayin when

Me: why do you want me to have your baby??!!

Him: ur gorgeous, ur a good woman.i know u have ur faults but who doesnt.. ur a grown mature woman.. and i want to have a child with u.. im nota deadbeat and i know this is the most serious of all subjects that will affect us forever but im serious
a million reasons
i would ask NO other to

Me: just wondering what sparked this

Him: its been there smoldering
i know that if we would have met we would have been together.. despite what u may and despite the age difference
despite everything
i know it
dont ask how
i know
and im the last person to speak like this casually

Wow. I'm not sure what to make of that! I'm glad my photographs are moving, but I didn't anticipate them making men want to reproduce with me! And, considering that is the first man that really went out of his way and said he wants to have my baby that wasn't drunk... I feel like it should have been with someone I have at least met in person. Kissed. Loved.

Is this flattering?

Jury is out.