Potluck of the Damned.

as in, damned if you do, damned if you don't.

This Friday is a potluck/pitch-in at work.  Various people are bringing various things.  I volunteered to pick up all the paper products as well as beverages, then collect money from the directors for the purchase of such.  Seems reasonable, yes?

Oh Fucking No It Is Not.

There is an administrative assistant that is riding my ass as if I have been saddled.   Every day, a stop by, an email or a phone call (or a combination of the three) on my progress.  Apparently I am her personal bitch.  I have taken to saying that I'm gonna call (administrative assistant) on so and so unless this is done, because clearly in the reporting structure, it is my job to call her with an update.

I may go batshit.

Mary is, of course, enjoying the living hell out of this.  She loves to torture me.   The initial plan was a potluck.  Somehow it has now morphed into a (gag me) Valentine's theme.  So now Mary emails me every few hours to tell me it is now a costume party, no, a luau, etc etc. 

She better be nice or I'm sic'ing the administrative assistant on her. 

Thoughts from today ...

Tonight I had dinner out at one of my favorite places, the Mona Lisa.  I saw the owner, Joe, had some laughs with him and generally enjoyed myself.  I was seated next to a couple who were on their second trip to the ML and next to them was a single guy who was on his first trip to the ML.  After the couple left, he and I began chatting about this and that.  He recently relocated from NJ, likes it here so far but is trying to meet new people.  I ended up giving him my card, told him to call me if he wanted to meet for dinner.  I'd guess him in his early-mid 40s, which has generally been my age group for dating.  Seems nice, time will tell.

Also tonight -- talked to Jason.  Basically Superbowl recap, plus some regular bs'ing.  It was good to talk to him.

Busy day tomorrow -- trip to Collier County for a meeting and Zumba tomorrow night.

Life.

Colts.  sigh.

Talked to the Marine yesterday twice ... once at 6:27 a.m. (when he woke me up) and once at midnight last night (when he woke me up again).   Just BS talk about the Colts, life, dating, etc.  I love to tease him about his sheets, his house, his life and his penchant for dating the young'uns.  He loves to jerk my chain about nearly everything in my life.  I am an easy target, what can I say?  He seems to be doing well, might want to change careers and definitely wants to rid his house of roommates.  I gave him some advice, we laughed, it was all good.  I had to tease him last night tho -- when he woke me up for the second time in 24 hours -- I told him that I generally only like wake ups twice in one day by someone I'm sleeping with, and since he isn't and we're not, he owes me.

Finally shutting the door on someone I should have a while back.  Feelings are a hard thing to deal with -- and sometimes some real quality time is spent sorting through those feelings to determine the best course of action.  For me, that best course is letting go, accepting and moving on.

Mom arrives this Friday -- for about ten days.  She is totally excited (as am I) and is looking forward to some days in the sunshine.  I'm not sure what days I'll be taking off yet, but I'm working that out now.

Need to refocus on taxes, application to grad school.  Double sigh.

If only ignorance were a disease.

I would hope that a cure can be found.

I definitely get cranky when I see legislation that prevents same-sex couples from the same level of civil rights as married couples have. 

Yes, I said Civil Rights.

I do believe that same-sex marriage is a civil rights matter, and here's why:

• Marriage is not a predominately religious institution.  Judges, lawyers, justices of the peace and even city/town officials can "officiate" a marriage. 
• The status of "marriage" as a civil institution, affords benefits in:
• health care
• end of life decisions
• tax benefits
• financial benefits (applying for a mortgage, car loan, etc)
• custody disputes
• transfer of property
• Marriage licenses are issued by the state, not by churches, religious bodies or clergy.
• Marriage versus Civil Union is one of semantics.  If we are to separate the two, I recommend "Marriage" for those unions performed by clergy and completed in a church/temple/mosque/house of worshiop.  Civil Union for all other partnerships.

Just as I believe in the separation of church and state, I believe in the rights of same-sex marriages.  As marriage licenses are issued by the state, it is a civil matter, thus not one for debate in the religious community.

The Weekend is Wide Open

Not real sure what I'll be doing this weekend. 

I *need* to get my taxes together (but that sucks), get the house ready for Mom's arrival on Friday (but that sucks) and generally do a trash run around here (but that sucks).

Oh, and the ever-present, never-ending, always-growing pile o'laundry.  I truly need a houseboy/cabana boy.

How useful would it be to have someone do my laundry, pick up my house, do my shitwork for me while I'm at work, so I can come home and just take a moment to relax.  Wow.  Now I'm thinking like a 1950s suburban dad.  Dear Lord.  This blog has come off the rails.

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In family news, it appears that my cousin's wife has yet again gone off her meds for bipolar disorder.  This is not good news, friends, as they have two very young children.  Oy. 

In other family news, my great-uncle Glenn passed away this past Sunday night.  He and my Aunt Vera were married for 65 years.  He's suffered from alzheimers for a few years now, so it is nice to think he is at peace.  Godspeed, Uncle Glenn. 

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Not much else to report, I'm just living as me. 

Back in FM

Good people, I'm about to tell the dirty, filthy truth about the state capitol of Florida. 

It belongs in Georgia or Alabama, and I don't care which.

It is 6.5-7 long hours from Fort Myers.  For you Hoosiers, picture the state capitol in New Albany -- and you (and the rest of the far-more-populous areas) live in South Bend.  Now, picture New Albany an hour further south -- and you get the picture.

The panhandle of Florida isn't really Florida-like.  No palms.  Lots of deciduous trees and pines. 

Give it back to Georgia or Alabama.  Doesn't matter which.  Move Florida's state capitol to somewhere mid-state -- like Orlando.  Let that place be known for more than RatWorld.

As far as state capitols go (and I've been in my fair share) -- Tallahassee isn't good enough to be in their numbers.

I'm Crass.

I might as well admit it out loud.  I am. 

I'm here in Tallahassee at a conference.  Tally is about 7 hours from FM, way up in the Panhandle of Florida.  It is super boonie-land up here, really reminds me of southern Indiana in many ways.  In fact, I-10, which runs the panhandle, looks a whole lot like I-64 in southern Indiana.

But I digress.

As much as I love hotels -- someone else to make my bed mmm mmm mmm -- I also hate them.  I hate the paper thin walls.  The petty annoyances of those around me just grate on my nerves.

Last night. 

Up later than I would normally be, after having my mind blown by LOST.  So there I am, trying to fall asleep while the room on the left of me is obviously having a conversation with someone in ANOTHER STATE as she is so damn loud, while the guy on the right of me is playing the TV at approximately 3 million decibels.  All this at midnight.

So how does this relate to me being crass?

Well.  Here we go.  Ugly truths about Athena. 

I was lying in bed, trying to fall asleep.  This noise level has gone on since 10 or so.  I didn't mind while LOST was on (as I was concentrating) but at midnight? 

So I had some beers last night.  And beers make me gassy.  I would generally try not to release my gas in a grotesque or unpleasant manner, generally trying to either go into a restroom or hold it.  Even when I'm alone, I'm not big on behaving like a boor.

Last night I didn't hold back.  AND IT WAS SUPER DUPER CATASTROPHICALLY LOUD.  Think Elephant trumpet.  Times 10.

All the sudden, both rooms quieted down.   And I fell asleep.  Crass, crass me.

Time keeps slipping away.

Last week I lost an old friend of mine, Robby Ross.  I'm sure he would have probably laughed at me calling him Robby, but when you know someone from 3rd grade on, some names just don't change. 

We lost track of each other after HS, as I have with so many people I knew from "back then."  It is weird, sometimes, how memories float to the top after realizing what is lost.

We kissed, once, back in 6th grade or so.  A game of Spin the Bottle, no less, at my friend Tricia's house.  It was a slumber party at her house and of course, what fun is it in small town America if boys can't crash a slumber party.  I couldn't tell you if I kissed anyone else that night, but here are two things I remember: he had super soft lips and he was good at kissing, even then.  To tell the truth, if I look back, he was probably among the top 10 kisses I've ever had.  It was soft, it was sweet and it had just the amount of pressure to it to let you know that he kissed me because he *wanted* to, not just because the bottle happened to point at us both.

He was also the first guy I ever remember wearing a Megadeath and Metallica t-shirt.  I had no idea (at the time) what these names meant, only that Robby seemed to like them. 

Peace be with you friend.  I'm glad your suffering has ended.  See you later ...


Robert J. Ross Oct. 9, 1973 - Jan. 26, 2010


NEW CARLISLE - Robert J. Ross, 36, of New Carlisle, IN, passed away Tuesday, January 26, 2010, at Northwestern Hospital in Chicago, IL. Robert was born October 9, 1973, in LaPorte, IN to the late Robert and Carol (Ross) Ross. Robert is survived by his wife, Susan, a sister, Rhonda (Dennis) Wilson of Rolling Prairie, IN and children; Douglas (Jamie) Brasseur of Kingsbury, IN, Bethanne (Dale) Howard of LaPorte, IN, Kathryn (John) Brasseur of New Carlisle, IN; five grandchildren; Maggie, Ryan, Lyla, Nathan, and Austin, many aunts, uncles, cousins and lots of good friends. He was employed as a mechanic with Summer Song in South Bend, IN, and K-Fex Excavating & Trucking in New Carlisle, IN. Visitation for Robert will be from 2-8 p.m. (Eastern Standard Time), Sunday, January 31, 2010, at the Kaniewski Funeral Home, 3545 Bendix Drive, South Bend, Indiana. Funeral services will be at 1 p.m. (E.S.T.), Monday, February 1, 2010, at the Kaniewski Funeral Home. Entombment will follow in Riverview Cemetery, South Bend, Indiana. In lieu of flowers, memorial contributions may be made to Shriner's Children's Hospital, 2211 N. Oak Park Avenue, Chicago, IL 60607 or Riley Children's Foundation c/o Epilepsy Research, 30 S. Meridian Street, Indianapolis, IN 46204.

Constraints.

Constraints is a funny word, isn't it?  Universally thought as negative (time constraints, money constraints -- all limiting), constraints is a word last night used by Mary's mother to discuss why now was the time for me to start my Ph.D. program.

"You'll never have any less constraints than you do right now," she said. 

Constraints meaning a husband, children, a mortgage.

She's right.  With that one turn of phrase, she made my mind whirl in a thousand directions -- all making me realize that sometimes "constraints" aren't necessarily negative.  I wouldn't ever say a husband, children and a mortgage are negatives, but yet, defining them as constraints does make me think.

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I'm applying to Florida International University in Miami for my Ph.D. in Public Administration, with a minor in Political Science.  I need to retake the GRE (horrors!) but am steadily compiling my info to send in to them.  I should be completed by the end of February, then just waiting to hear.  I hope I get in.  On the work front, I have permission from my boss to adjust my work schedule accordingly, which makes for that commute to Miami once a week much more doable.

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In other huge, unbelievable, Thank-God-I-Am-Living-Where-I-Am news, Mary's dad offered to work with me to get a paper published.  I am absolutely floating above myself today at the thought.  I am where I am supposed to be.  The stars have aligned.

The purr-monster hath awakened.

This morning I woke up around 5.  Insomnia is a weird thing for me, strikes at odd times and often, like today, it strikes when it is conceivable that I *could* be awake but I so don't want to be.

And then there is Caesar.  Sweet, 10 year old Caesar, who is a true loverboy when he wants to be.  He is purring so loudly I can barely hear myself type.  I need to put him on tape (boy, that just aged me) or something because his purr is something I cannot imagine doing without.

Loud, growly and almost symphonic in its tonal changes, his purr transcends the average happy cat purr.  His purr is that of a much bigger cat but he works it nonetheless.

As soon as I'm up, I turn on the bathroom sink for him (just a little bit) so he can get a fresh drink of water.  After I do this (and today, I crawl back into my cozy bed), he starts his happiness symphony which resonates throughout my bedroom.  He is lying on my "guest" pillow, just purring away.  Ahh, the sounds of a happy kitty make my heart sing.

It is a part of the soundtrack to my life and I love every moment.