Wednesday, April 14, 2004

Hi. My Name is Blaaacht!

So apparently, Mrs. Directed thought I was gonna get married.  Or I was pregnant.  I don?t know which bothers me more.  A few weeks ago, Gordon and I took my folks out to dinner.  No big deal.  Just Gordon putting forth a little effort to show that he wants to get in their good graces.  Apparently, they thought we were gonna drop a bomb on them.  They must have gone home and breathed a collective sigh of relief.  Maybe if they?re worried about me eloping on them, they won?t freak out so much about my thinking about moving to Scotland.  Yeah, right.  Just call me daydream believer.

In other news? Tonight is the night.  Gordon?s parents are coming to town.  Now, I am one of those girls that always get nervous about meeting the folks.  I usually start fretting about a week before.  Will they like me? Will I like them?  Will we have anything to talk about?  Well, multiply that times a million and that is my current state right now.  Just call me Stan.  Every time I so much as think about meeting them, I feel like I?m gonna throw up.  I just know I?m gonna open my mouth to say hello and throw up all over his mom?s shoes. 

The problem is that mom?s don?t like me.  I?ve dated a lot of guys in my life, and only one mother has ever liked me.  Ever.  To some this wouldn?t be a big deal, but to me it is a very big deal.  My mom might have earned the title of Queen Bitch, but she?s my mom.  I love her, and I know that no matter what she will be there for me.  And when it comes to her instincts about the guys I date, she?s usually right.  I dated a really great guy in high school, and she loved him.  She still wants us to get married.  No guy has lived up to him in her mind.  But through the years I?ve learned to distinguish between this built in bias and serious dislike for a reason.  It?s important to me that my parents like who I?m dating, because my parents will probably be a part of my life for longer than the guy.  And if not, I don?t want to be in the middle of a battlefield for the rest of my life.  It?s just easier if they get along.  So, back to my point, it?s extremely important to me that Gordon?s mom like me.  Dad won?t be a problem.  Dad?s love me!

So, wish me luck.  I may be meeting my (way, way, way in the) future in-laws tonight.

Posted by amy t. @ 11:51 AM in • Stick By 'Em, Stuck With 'Em ·

Monday, April 12, 2004

Cajun Tested, Jesus Approved

Well, this weekend was a hands down… success.  There is no other word for it.  Mustering up courage from the greatest depths of his being, Gordon swooped in and charmed the family. 

After a somewhat late start on Friday, we got to Baton Rouge around 10ish.  Gordon met Grams, Aunt Lil, Cousin K, and The Energizer Bunny.  I had to remind him to hand my aunt the wine he brought with him--he was clutching it for dear life, as if it were his security blanket.  My uncle was in bed, and stayed clear most of the weekend, which was good, since I don’t think he and Gordon would have agreed on much of anything. 

Saturday we just chilled with the fam.  We went to eat at the greatest restaurant in Baton Rouge, Brunet’s, and then Gordon and I took a nap in the hammock outside.  It was glorious out.  Warm and breezy, and I just melted comfortably into him.  By the evening, the whole family was outside enjoying the fading daylight.  There were crawfish.  Tasty, but not plenty.  Just enough to make us hungry.  The Energizer Bunny was a swinging fool, and at 4 we taught her the joy of jumping off the swings.  Gordon was so good with her.  He didn’t mind helping to keep her entertained, and it was this, perhaps, that earned him so many points.  She’s the kind of kid that is exhausting just to watch. 

Saturday night we went back to Brunet’s and watched a band of really old guys.  We sat at the bar next to an old lady in a young shirt.  And I mean a young shirt.  I had one just like it and gave it away because I was to old for it.  I’m 25.  She was at least 60.  Um, your granddaughter called.  She wants you to stop raiding her closet.  We drank just enough to feel the first faint stirrings of a buzz, then headed home.  I made the ultimate sacrifice and went to 7 a.m. mass with my folks.  Yeah.  Butt ass crack of dawn. 

Once I finally got my grumpy man out of bed, we headed to WalMart and bought Grams, Aunt Lil, and Mrs. Directed flowers.  More points for Gordon.  By the time my folks left, my mom actually HUGGED Gordon.  Hugged. Him.  This is huge people.  And he hugged her back.  This is even huger.  Yeah, I know, not a word.  I finally feel good about Gordon and The Folks.  After two years, I think it’s about time. 

All in all, a spectacular, relaxing (in an anxiety filled kind of way) weekend.  About the only thing that would have made it better would have been being allowed to sleep in the same bed with Gordon.  But what are you gonna do.  House rules are house rules. 

So, how was your Easter?

Posted by amy t. @ 02:55 PM in • Stick By 'Em, Stuck With 'Em ·

Wednesday, April 07, 2004

What The Fcuk?

okay.  everyone I know knows that I don’t get off this stupid job until 5:30.  “Everyone” includes my family and my friends.  Or so I thought.  Today, between 4:47 and 5:15 I got calls from Mr. Directed.  Mrs. Directed.  Best Friend.  And Grown Up Princess.  I’m surprised no one said anything, because my stupid ringer is l-o-u-d.  Loud. I know I could have turned it off, but then I forget to turn it back on and I miss calls at night and Mrs. Directed gets pissy with me.  So, on it is.  Loudly.  Oops.

Posted by amy t. @ 05:35 PM in • Stick By 'Em, Stuck With 'Em ·

Monday, April 05, 2004

Let Me Make It Through This Day

Ever have one of those days where you feel like the thin layers of your skin are the only things holding you together?  That’s me.  I worry that if I get so much as a paper cut, the casing will be weakened and I’ll split open and spill out.  Or explode out.  My muscles are dancing of their own accord.  Twitching silently to a beat that isn’t playing on the radio.  And it’s distracting my brain.  Forcing my brain to recognize this sign of anxious distress.  Refusing to let me keep my focus.  Clouding my vision.  And yet, I know that if I could by some miracle quiet down the physical riot taking place, I would be unable to keep my eyes from closing their gates to the world.  If I could smooth over the mob mentality my muscles are poisoning my body with right now, my head would suddenly feel as if it weighed 400 pounds to much for my neck to support it.  And so it would swagger back and forth in mid air for a few moments, then go crashing down to the cool laminate of my desk.  Soon only my dreams would be filling the air. 

So, for now at least, I must allow my muscles to rave on.

Posted by amy t. @ 01:48 PM in • Evaporated ·

Saturday, April 03, 2004

At least I'm Not An Alchy

So not feeling so well today.  I went for drinks after work with some coworkers.  Not a big deal, really… Until you take into consideration that we get off at 3 on Fridays.  So we started a bit early.  Beer and shots and pool.  Fun times.  And then I went home and got the dog.  And Gordon.  And then we hit the Local Pub.  Until 1 a.m.  So yeah, it’s understandable why I’m feeling like Satan’s butt hole today, right?  Gordon told the biggest F.E.B. we know that he was a wanker last night.  And I sucked at pool.  I vaguely remember getting home.  I do remember Sophie waking me up at 6:30 am this morning.  And I remember that we forgot to turn off the alarm clock, so I was up again at 8.  Oh holy fcuk, why oh why was I up at 8?  Death to the makers of Absolut Citron.  Why did they have to make it so tasty? 

Gordon and I are taking The Folks out to dinner tonight.  Let’s hope I feel better by then.  And let’s hope he does, too.

Posted by amy t. @ 04:02 PM in • Debauchery ·

Tuesday, March 30, 2004

How Appropriate...

I got my 100th comment.  I remember when I got my first.  Incidently, they were made by the same gal.  Thanks, Sarah.  I love you, man!

Posted by amy t. @ 04:57 PM in • Stick By 'Em, Stuck With 'Em ·

AAAARRRRGGGHH

So today my favorite coworker called in sick.  Bitch.  So now, in addition to doing my numerous duties, I have also sent out 109 faxes and done various other fax-girl duties.  And apparently, not only am I doing well, but I’m doing Faxy’s job better than she does.  I’ve had three people tell me how impressed they are that I’m all caught up with the faxes.  I gather there is always a big stack backed up whenever Faxy is in the house.  Go me.  Unfortunately, this is causing me near heart attack levels of stress.  I hate feeling like I’m not doing my job.  And today, I really haven’t done my job.  I’ve already been told I don’t have to do it, but as a girl who has had really bad luck in the working world, I’m terrified of the consequences of these actions.

Oh well.  Fcuk ‘em. 

I am so looking forward to tonight… No drinking.  No partying.  A hot bath, a meatball sandwich, a movie and some couchy cuddle.  What more could a girl ask for?

Posted by amy t. @ 04:53 PM in • For The Money ·

Monday, March 29, 2004

Men Are Chicken Shit.

I got an email today.

Posted by amy t. @ 10:39 AM in • For The Money ·

Prophetic Dreams and Sweet Nothings

Prophetic dreams first…

I had a really bizarre dream.  I was at my Aunt J’s house, and she was really busy.  We went to the store, and she asked me to keep an eye on her small daughter, Susie.  Well, Susie wandered off.  I lost her, so for the next 45 minutes I was searching the store frantically for her.  When I finally found her and took her up front to meet J, I got bitched at for wasting so much of her precious time.  And I blew up.  In a very cartoon like scene, smoke came out of my ears and my face turned red.  Then I just started screaming at her.  After a long rant in which everyone in the store turned to look at me, Aunt J made one unrelated but profound comment. 

“You have a lot of pent up frustration and rage against your parents.”

Now, everyone has issues with their parents, or because of their parents. But to have a dream and realize just how angry they make you is scary.  I can’t wait to have insurance so I can start going to fcuking therapy.  And now on to…

Sweet nothings.  Gordon, formerly Gordon*, gave me the biggest warm fuzzy I’ve ever had in my life.  It swooped in, wrapped me in its warmth, and induced a sence of joy I’ve never felt before.  I am still engulfed in the fuzziness, and it has been 3 days. 

Gordon is moving away.  We will be fighting like vernicious kanids to keep our relationship together across an ocean of difficulties.  I may or may not be going, I hope I am, but nothing is certain yet.  We were talking about it and the following came out of his mouth…

Posted by amy t. @ 09:56 AM in • Evaporated ·

Friday, March 26, 2004

Excuse me while I throw up.

Thank goodness it’s friday.  no word on my possible new job yet.  i hate this life.  i am sooo looking forward to getting drunk tonight.

Posted by amy t. @ 03:04 PM in • The Friday Files ·

Tuesday, March 23, 2004

Hip Hip Hooray

Well, here it is. My first post on my new computer.  I’ve been waiting and waiting for this.  Seeing as my Current Job monitors all web activity, posting there was not a realistic goal.  And my computer at home gave me a Blue Screen There Should Be Smoke Coming Out of The Monitor Fatal Error every time I tried to get online.  So.  God Save Dell.  I sooo HEART my computer.  Even the keyboard.  It is vewy vewy qwiet.  Compared to the last keyboard, on which you had to use your full body weight to press a super sticky key down, a jack hammer was quiet.  Dude, deaf people could hear the vibrations from my loud ass keyboard.  So anyways, I’m psyched about this new computer.  And hopefully I’ll have a new, better, badass job by the end of this week as well.  *Crosses fingers, legs, toes, eyes...*

If not, well, things at Current Job are getting better.  I just found out that (if I am still there) within a month I will be moved into a different position.  This still doesn’t mean more money until after my 90 days probation, but the more responsibility, the more mula, right?

I’m not so sure about this new position though.  It may be a bit too much responsibility.  It’s in the legal department.  And for the time being, we do not have a lawyer on staff (usually there is one).  So if I get the legal job, I am the legal department.  Legal forwarding, to be precise.  I basically get a clients forms and forward them to an attorney in the appropriate state.  And then I keep track of all correspondences from the attorneys… Making sure the client reps get a copy and all.  I don’t know about you, but my idea of an enjoyable work environment is by no means having to bear the responsibility for a lawsuit.  Especially by someone like Nike, USA, who is one of our clients.  Yeah, if the legal papers for Nike, USA vs. Bob’s Fish Mart get lost, my head will be on a silver platter while the CEO of Nike eats my brains.  I don’t want to go into FootLocker, have them swipe my credit card, and have a siren go off--alerting them to the fact that I screwed Corporate Shoe America.  Then the poor sales clerk would have to make a call and have the dreaded MALL SECURITY escort me from the premises.  Not my cup of tea.

Posted by amy t. @ 07:01 PM in • For The Money ·

Tuesday, March 09, 2004

Update on MissDirected!!

Hey y’all!  Sarah here! 

Amy’s super, super busy at work and her home computer has taken a nose-dive into crapland.  So she’s been unable to update lately.  But she’s alive, she’s well, and for now, her feet are still on American soil (as are Gordon’s).  And I’m going to karaoke with her tomorrow.  Hee.

The good news is that Dude!  She got a Dell!  And it should be here this week, so she should be back online with a working computer very soon. 

So yay!

Posted by amy t. @ 08:49 AM in • Stick By 'Em, Stuck With 'Em ·

Thursday, February 26, 2004

I Wish I Didn't Despise Coffee

Last night was one of those nights.  The nights where everything just falls into place.  When everything feels just right.  Gordon picked me up after work and took me out.  He broke the news that he is going offshore.  And then he let me win at pool.  He also informed me that his oldest friend is coming to visit?in less than two weeks.  We spent some time making plans.  What shall we do?  Where will we take him?  This is very exciting for me.  I have yet to meet a single member of Gordon?s family.  And we all have at least one friend who is, in our minds and hearts, family.  This is Gordon?s. 

It?s weird.  I?ve been dating him for two years, but I don?t know him at all.  I mean… all this time he?s been living and working in my world.  Meeting my friends, and sometimes attempting to meet my family.  He has constantly been around me in my natural habitat.  I have never seen him in his.  He was transplanted.  He is Nemo.  He was moved from his ocean into my fish tank.  A place where we believe what we are told to believe.  Where no one really knows what the rest of the world thinks about us.  We see the world through the rose colored glass of our 100 million gallon aquarium.  This will be like a glimpse into his ocean for me.  I can?t wait. 

Anyways, while Gordon talked to his Current Roommate last night, I popped on a flick and fell instantly asleep.  Just after the movie ended, Gordon came to bed and it woke me up.  Well, I?d had a two hour nap.  I was wiiiiiiide awake.  So we just curled up into each other and talked.  Long into the night.  Like we used to do when we first started dating.  We couldn?t get close enough to each other.  At one point, my shoulder was hurting and I tried to roll over.  Gordon just squeezed me tighter and said, ?Not yet.?  So I stayed.  And when I finally did roll over, he rolled with me.  We woke up just as tangled together as when we fell asleep.  It was a night I won?t soon forget. 

The only drawback to this relationship flashback?

Posted by amy t. @ 05:12 PM in • Love & Heartache ·

It Can Only Get Better

Whoever said ?Well, it can?t get any worse, right?? was a big, fat, moron.  It can almost always get worse.  Like that time when I was hauling boo-tay through Louisiana and got pulled over on the highway.  I thought those same words?until I stepped out of my vehicle and it started to pour down rain.  Or when I lost my last job and thought those words?and then three days later I found out I was in desperate need for a whole new set of tires. 

Gordon and I have plans this weekend.  Big plans.  We are going to Lafayette to stay with my favorite family member (Aunt J) and for Gordon to meet some of my family.  So yesterday he calls and tells me he might be going offshore this weekend.  Of course.  Because we haven?t had weekend getaway plans in months.  He hasn?t been offshore since August.  And the one weekend we have plans?  So I?m thinking those famous last words, when he says ?Oh wait?it gets much worse.?  Before he leaves, they want to drug test him.  He?s been here for 3 years.  He?s never been drug tested.  NEVER.  Which is good, because he smokes that wacky tobacky.  The test will be sometime before Friday.  No notice.  We think it will probably be one of those ones you buy at the drug store.  If he fails, he gets fired.  If he fails, there?s a good chance he?ll be back on a plane to Scotland as early as next weekend. 

How the hell am I supposed to handle that?

Posted by amy t. @ 12:56 PM in • Evaporated ·

Monday, February 23, 2004

Pucker Up!

This day sucks my butthole.  And I mean that with a big, sloppy, wet slurp-y sound.  The girl that does the faxes all day is sick.  So guess what I get to do?  Yup.  Fax, Fax, Fax.  It’s stressing me out.  I am not doing my job.  Why? Because I’m too busy doing someone elses.  Luckily, that is okay with my boss.  I was stressing a lot more this morning.  But it still sucks, since I don’t really know the flow from this desk.  Yeah.  I even have to sit at her desk.  The moniter is too sideways.  The chair is not comfy. People keep asking me to do things I don?t know how to do.  And then getting huffy with me both because I don?t know how to do it and because I?m not Super Fax Girl.  There are faxes everywhere I turn.  And my job won?t get done.  I?m working my ass off and I don?t even feel like I?m earning my crappy $9.00 an hour.  And I have 2.5 more hours of this. 

My dreams will be filled with the beeping of the keys on the fax machine and the whirly mechanical noise it makes when connecting.  Maybe in my dreams that noise will let me connect right in to someone else?s head.  Wouldn?t that be cool?

Posted by amy t. @ 03:11 PM in • For The Money ·