Okay...so the last post was uninspired as hell, but when I was proofreading it I saw a new comment on an old one. The first comment from what I assume to be the same anonymous author took me aback. I was angered by it, actually. I loathe hearing "I told you so" about seriously bad events. Well, Devorah jumped to my aide, as you'll see and I jumped in as well. That was days ago, and I think our anonymous friend returned to comment again. I started to comment back and found myself writing a novel. Anonymous inspired the hell out of me, so thank you. Observe:



Anonymous said...

I will say only this... only remember if you listened to those who said don't move away, your heart would still be intact.

6:26 PM



Julie said...

And what exactly leads you to believe it is not?

11:35 AM



Dev said...

okay, first of all anonymous is full of shit...(I'm feisty too.)
My comment is this: maybe you're annoyed by criticism because it's your self criticism that has the loudest voice of all....and I say go for it Girl! I am living proof that you live and thrive after taking chances...and so are you!

6:48 PM



Julie said...

I agree with the "anonymous is full of shit" thing, I mean, my God! What a 'tard.

10:56 PM



Anonymous said...

If your heart was intact from before the heartaches, you wouldn't still be remembering the pain from yester years. But I am for change and change is good, if you are ready for change. I think it's only good when you change all on your own, with no incentive other than yourself doing the change. No one to move for or to. No one to be with or be loved by when you get there. You move to a place to start new alone. Clean slate. Never move for a person until you know that person would do anything for you. I, personally, have done the moving for change thing before and it didn't work because my heart was in the wrong place. I thought a person who was in my life could help me with that change. After reaing your blog now for awhile, I feel as though I've come to know a side of you that says you are a logical person that has a heart and a mind that desires a good life and wants the best. You probably deserve it unlike the scum that left you but that's another story. Point being, choose your weapons and your cargo when traveling carefully. Happy hunting and I wish you luck in all your chances!

11:25 AM



So I said:
What a comment...it was like an email. I'm not complaining, mind you... There were points I agreed with and some I did not. Anonymous, do I know you? You write like someone who knows and cares for me. Am I wrong? Who are you? And I technically left the scum, if you must know. Look, I think you need to reconsider your belief that because I still recall the pain of my past that my heart must still be damaged. If a spouse loses a partner to death, they will presumably always miss them, correct? And while they move on, start a new life and are happy and well adapted, they will likely still feel pain at certain times such as anniversaries, birthdays, etc. Does this mean they have not healed? I don't think so. I was deeply in love, I gave myself entirely to that love, and it went to hell. It happens. Life, good and bad, landscapes our hearts. I am not the same person I was when I was a teenager, before Gene died. Or Kyle or Sabrina, for that matter. I am not the same person I was before Kristin. I am not even the same person I was before I got the job I have and the friends I've made since I've been back. The most serious injuries can inflict pain years after the scars have faded, but that doesn't mean they aren't healed. People can heal. I have. When bones break they can either fuse together poorly and become weak or they can grow stronger than before the fracture. People are the same. I grew stronger, more aware of who I am, what I want, and how capable I am. That seems pretty intact to me. I've learned after the deaths of my friends that healing does not equate to forgetting. Remembering my friends and hurting for them sometimes even now, years later, is a testiment to how much they were loved. Pain is not always a bad thing. The worst of the times with Kristin would never have happened if the good had not been so good. It never would have gone as far as it did and it never would have mattered as much if it had. The relationship I had with my ex-wife is sort of akin to one of my lost friend. The perpetually less frequent pain and memories are a testiment to how much I loved. When something is so strong, it leaves an indelible mark on who we are. I am strong and I am healed. I have moved on, "gotten over it," and have created a new life for myself. Healing is not erasing the past. I am better for whatever hell I go through. What could be more intact than that?

Keep commenting, anonymous, even if you don't tell me who you are. And thank you for the comments in the first place. I truly appreciate the thought, even if it did kinda irritate me.

All Stressed Out

I should be happy because I am at the start of a lovely three day weekend. Yayyy! I am happy, I swear. And to top it off, I found my Halloween costume today, a discovery worthy of much rejoicing. It's adorable, really. The problem is tomorrow. I have plans allllll day, and with the exception of a phone call from Jill in the morning and a dinner date with Gotti I don't want to do ANY of it. I have to drive alllll the way up to Ukiah to take an ASL test that I am ill-prepared for, pray to God the lazy-ass DMV and downright incompetent USPS get my driver's license to my mailbox by the time I get out of class and back to Cloverdale, then I need to drive alllll the way down to Santa Rosa, pick up my check, drive all the way to Petaluma and because the DMV and USPS won't have obliged with my first prayer, pray to God the bank will accept my paper license, social security card, and thumbprint to cash my paycheck. If the stars were to align correctly, which I'm assuming they will not, I will have to cruise back up to my bank, deposit the cash, and then head to Marisol's, then on to Costco, then back, then on to dinner with Gotti. *whew* Fuuuuuuck. I hope the bastard that broke into my car and caused all this shit dies a miserable, lonely death...slow and painful. Grr. See, my new bank is wonderful and I just absolutely looove them. They're terribly civilized. The problem is that it is their policy to hold all checks 'til they clear before releasing the funds for the first thrity days of the account. And because direct deposit takes some time to set up, I'm screwed. Fuckety fuck fuck fuck. The good news is that this will be the last check I need to worry about, the next should be direct deposited by then, and the thirty days oughta be about up. Gooood grief.

I'm a bit on the tired side...this post is dreadfully uninspired. G'night...

Ohhh, after the ensuing drama tomorrow I plan on having the most delicious weekend....

Happy Post no. 272!

Assuming that's an accurate count on my blogger dashboard... I think it is, actually. I love it. They used to update the count like twice a year, it licked. I'm a girl who likes to see my progress.

Anywho...what a day! Do you ever go back to work on Monday and feel like you totally wasted your entire weekend? Like you're a hopeless loser with no life whatsoever and you may as well have never left work at all because it's really all you got? Well, me too every once in a while. This weekend was not one of those weekends. Nope. This is doubly impressive because I only had today. C'est vrais. Yesterday was spent working short and plotting an ensuing war at work. Yippee! But work, nonetheless. So I drove down to SF and met up with Keshau, aka San Francisco Girl. It was rather on the trying side because I didn't trust my own directions, no! I had to pull up Mapquest ones. Which were, of course, wrong. Mmhmm. So I went far, far away into a strange and foreign dimension o' SF before I fully decided Mapquest was fucked. I'd been thinking it since Marin County, but rather than call and save time and energy I needed to get lost. Riggght. Anyway, I made it there and we moseyed on down to the Folsom Street Fair. It was ever so entertaining. I think I saw more naked men than I ever have (and ever will). There weren't nearly enough women, we were sadly outnumbered, I'm afraid. But there were a few that were delightful diversions from the droves of hoo-ha bearing umm... bears. You know the theory that the people most likely to take their clothes off in public are the ones who should be doing it the least? Well, I think for the most part it's true. Case in point: "The Group from Fresno." Clever name, no? I could say more, but I don't think I ought to. You'd thank me, I assure you. Keshau is a Folsom Fair veteran of sorts and she said it's tamed down a lot. I can imagine. There was a Christian booth in the first block we walked down. Weird, given the surroundings. Equally (or close, anyway) weird was the SFPD job recruiting booth. Hmmmm... It was a fabulous day, ever so entertaining...



Have you ever noticed how incredibly discouraging people are? Not all the time, not everyone, but really....so often people want to tell you every reason they can dream up why you can't do what you want. I can't imagine trying to bring someone down when they are reaching for or even just dreaming of what they want. I mean, my God! Why would you do this?! I've endured this over the years. I took it when I was pre-med, I took it when I was thinking of moving to Missouri for RN school. I am currently getting it about the motorcycle and moving to San Francisco. And you know? I'm fucking tired of it. I don't need approval, though it can be nice. I don't need to be lied to or placated. If you have an honest, valid issue with my plans for myself and you're in a position to say something, do! But I am finished listening to people deluging me with discouraging, negative comments and reasons why I can't do what I want with my life. Maybe SF really is too expensive. Maybe Victor (the car) will be stolen, maybe I'll be murdered in my bed by drug crazed Nazis, maybe I just won't like it. But you know? I am more than capable of figuring this stuff out on my own without everyone expressing their doubts over my likelihood for success. Fuck!

*teehee* I'm seeing an ever so slight seam in the transition from Folsom Fair to my disgust with humanity. If you look, you'll understand though. Part of it was the company, but I had a gorgeous day today. I just loved being there. And so sometimes I see things with new clarity. Sometimes I see what I want, and while I don't have any idea how or when, I know that I have to go for it. Some of it I can get for myself and some of it I can't control the outcome of entirely. But either way, I can put everything into getting it. And so I will, discouragement or not. And I say fuck the discouragement.

music: anything Gorillaz, GOD I love those cds...
mood: feisty

Short and Sweet

HAPPY NATIONAL JULIE-GETS-HER-CAR-BACK DAY!!!!!!

I love calling insurance companies and making them fear for their lives. *smiles sweetly*

Goddamn, I love my car. I really do. It's so....mine. Well, Capital One Auto Finance might disagree for the next few years, but whatever, it's still mine, damn it!

So it's my first whole day off this week. *whew* Man-o-man I've needed this. I still feel pretty icky, but I've had the chance to lay around all day and watch CSI and yep, CABLE! Mmmmm...it's durlicious. I never get to do this. I'm slowly on the mend, headed in the right direction, but egads I can't wait to feel like myself again. Life is quiet in Forestville, especially since my snazzy new phone doesn't get a signal. I still don't have my car back, damn it. I'm thinking of switching insurance companies after this whole travesty. We'll see. If they don't get their act together I may have to unleash the Rath of La Julie.

Okay, even on sick, lay-around days I can't manage it allllll day. I'm going out to check out the yarn store in Sebastopol and then on to see Gotti. I've been cigarette free for three days now and I haven't murdered anyone. The closest I came was yesterday afternoon, sick and miserable at work. The boss who wouldn't let me take a whole day off even though I had a doctor's note and active bronchitis called herself in sick for the second time this week. Whore. I nearly cried out of frustration and the fever I still had. Greaaat. Anyway, I'm over it. Ttfn, kidlets!

Have you ever felt so far removed from the events that helped make you what and who you are that you felt like you'd been living through a filter? The authentic you is trapped on one side, desperately trying to push through, all the while the bullshit and phoney baloney (just doesn't look right if I spell bologna, does it? :-D ) crap breezes effortlessly through. *sigh* I believe a lot of people fall into complacency here, only half-living their lives. How tragic. I so don't want to be that way. I keep catching myself. I feel sometimes that if I could only manage to be where I wanted to be professionally I'd be a lot better off. I mean, how much time do we spend working? Waaay too much, my friends. I think I'm pretty much me when I'm off, but at work, and about work? I'm Julie-Light. Half the flavor, all the fat. Damn, those proportions are all wrong!

So I wound up having to work a few hours today. I called in sick last night from work. I had a fever and was miserable as hell. Today I went to the doctor, went to the pharmacy to pick up antibiotics for the misery-inducing bronchitis I have, made Craig come and hang out with me for a minute there, then came out here and got settled. "Here" being loverly Forestville, in a house I've been coming to almost as long as I've been alive, my aunt and uncle's house. Across the street, incidentally, from a house I have been going to since I was born, my grandparent's house. I guess I'm more at home here than anywhere else, in a way. Anyway, no one would cover for me except my boss (we call her Osama Mama, but she can also be very nice and today was one of those days), and she is sick as well. I suggested we split the shift since we both felt like hell. And split it we did. The measley four hours I worked wore me out. I need a day off to lay around and do nothing. That's not going to happen until thursday, but hey, at least it's in the works, huh?

I'm going to go WATCH TV!!!! Imagine! Cable! WOW!!!!

les bains sont bons

Put that in your pipe and smoke it.

I feel all warm and relaxed. Showers are one of the best things ever, especially when it's nice and chilly outside. Mmmm showerific.

So I'm about to go have breakfast with my aunt. Going out to breakfast is one of my flavorite things, and there hasn't been much of that going on lately. I think I might spend the week housesitting for my aunt and uncle in Forestville, so that'd be cool. And it'd save money on gas. And that can be nothing but a good thing.

Craig and Devorah came over last night and we all pitched in on the most glorious dinner. It was nice, they're both such good friends. Then we went to Healdsburg and went to a couple of the bars down there. The first was too packed and the second was a redneck bar that made very good cosmopolitans. Go figure. Only in Healdsburg, I think. The plan was originally that we would go to Fab, but of course it was Women's Weekend andCraig didn't want to go. So then we decided to finally try the Black Cat, but I realized that I have no photo ID thanks to the rat bastard that broke into my car. So I couldn't go anywhere I'd get carded. So no gay bars. *sigh* Devorah knew one of the bouncers in Healdsburg and the other was happy with the paper ID, so that worked out. Man, I so need my ID and ATM card, then everything will be cool again. It's really rather difficult to function in our society without them. Craig and I were trying to explain the difference between gay and straight bars to Devorah, and I decided that she hould see it first hand and on a large scale at Halloween in the Castro. Yayyy!

too early...

Craig came up and we hung out, downloading music and fooling around on the internet until late. I didn't get to bed 'til 4, and I was looking forward to sleeping in. Fozzie had different plans. God, if he keeps this up he's going to become an inside/outside cat. Grrr.

My friend Trish always says that when she sees our patient, Earl, she thinks of the Dixie Chicks song "Goodbye Earl." Craig downloaded it for me last night and I LOVE it! Normally I'm against country. "Prevent inbreeding, ban country music" has always been one of my mottos. But this song is just cool. It's great.

Okay, so Devorah was exaggerating when she said I was going to wear stockings and heels when we go out tonight. I don't even own any heels at the moment. It isn't that I don't adore them, I do. But good grief, this is Sonoma County. What'll I do, wear 'em to the opera? Oh that's right, we don't have any. How about wine tasting? Hmmm, no, I'm not a nouveau riche wine crazed yuppie. Hmm... Well, since heels are not generally preferable in the healthcare setting, I guess I just don't need any. Yet. What I do need is someplace fabulous to go tonight. I'd love to go to Fab for the drag king show but I think Craig'd get murdered or off himself, I'm unsure which. I think the Black Cat will be empty because of Women's Weekend...it'd suck to drive all that way and find it dead. Egads I hate Sonoma County. I mean even MODESTO had the Brave.... Modesto!

Cloverdale's invasion of lazy eyed psychos....

Well, to be honest I was going to just title this post "lazy eyed psychos." But as I was sitting here getting ready to type it up I was startled to hear (and feel) a massive boom. Like a big, huge, burly explosion. My first thought was one of fear. It was big, loud, and scary. My second thought was "coooooool....maybe the gas station blew up!" No such luck though. So maybe we're being invaded... I rang the police and they didn't know what it was just yet. Weird, huh? Anywho, here's the real post:

I watched "View from the Top" the other night with Craig, I think I mentioned it. Mike Myers stars as a stewardess trainer guy with a lazy eye. It's funny as hell and kinda sad all at once, but it makes you wonder, why? I mean, I know these things can be fixed. So why would you choose to keep a lazy eye? I don't mean to be hateful, I really don't. A few months ago Gotti and I went to the Belvedere. On our way in we saw an old friend, Charlotte. Charlotte had a lazy eyed friend in tow, and the whole thing was awkward as hell. I mean, which eye do you look at? And cripes, I just felt for her. It was vaguely reminiscent of the Austin Powers movie with the mole guy. Egads, another Mike Myers reference. What can it mean? Ahhh, it's immaterial. Maybe lazy eye people keep 'em out of pride... Some people in the deaf culture are against cochlear implants because they feel that there is nothing wrong with their deafness. I concur. Lazy eyes, however? Hmmm. Who the hell am I to say, though? I think gang members and similar miscreants ought to be sterilized, so maybe I'm not the best judge of anything.

So I'm at Aroma's (eww) with Gotti right now. I'm wearing my Fozzie hat and we've each got one of my headphones, listening to whatever random crap he has in his iTunes library. And it's random. So far we've sang along to Weird Al's Trigger Happy, the Gilligan's Island theme, the Price is Right and the Match Game, and we're currently listening to Liberace playing Chopsticks. I'm still sick and I'm tired of it. I was sitting at First Republic getting my new account and I was trying to have a civilized conversation with the woman helping me, when all of a sudden, mid-word, I start hacking up a lung. God, how mortifying. I swear I haven't got tuberculosis.

ACK! I just walked by the bulletin board and learned it's WOMEN'S WEEKEND! EEEGADS! Fuckety fuck! Of all the crappy timing. Keshau, where are you?! I have plans for you, my dear. You need to hop on your bike, come stay the night up here and then bright and early we're going to the Women's Weekend ride from Guerneville to the ocean. School is overrated, I'm telling you, especially when you could be on a ride to the ocean through gorgeous redwoods with me. *smile*

Okay...so I started this new account with First Republic. It's a fabulous bank, no tellers, no lines, only desks with civilized people waiting to serve you. Uber weird, no? Anywho, the only bad thing about this account is that for the first thirty days all checks deposited are going to be held 'til they clear. This means that I can't pay rent today. Great. So I called and left a message for my landlord telling her the situation. I was all ferklempt, thinking she'd be pissed. She called back and left a message saying thatshe was so sorry my car had been broken into, she hoped everything was okay, and that she'd be happy to wait as long as necessary, not to worry. God! How am I s'posed to feel good about moving away when I have a landlord like her? She's so fabulous, and I love my little house so much! Makes me sad to think of moving away. But then, I have wanted to live in San Francisco since I was a kid. And frankly I'm afraid to get too attached to anything, since K. But sometimes my heart moves before my head does. Kinda leaves my rational intentions behind. Well aren't I just full of Julie-Epiphanies? I had one this morning regarding love, as well. Hmmm...very interesting, all correlated in a way. Kinda leaving you hanging, huh? But this is for me to know and some of you to find out.

*wink*

mmmm brunchfast....

Yummylicious omelette. Ummmers. I'm famished to the core.

I'm also sick, which, isn't nearly as favorable. I made Craig go out and get me Airborne yesterday while we were working, but it hasn't totally knocked it out yet. Stupid cold.

So for the long negelected "Cool things patients said" file, a patient from a prominent Sonoma County family asked me where I was from, and I told him Sebastopol. We talked about how much it's changed, how the apples had mostly been replaced by lame ass grapes, and I said "well, I really don't like it, but time marches on, huh?" He gets a different look on his face and says "it sure as hell does!" Haha...I dunno why, but it cracked me up. It must have been his tone and the look on his face. This guy is usually a dirty old man, full of crap, always scheming how he can hit on us next. But last night when he said that, it seemed like the most real thing he'd ever said to me. And it almost made him look like a person instead of a dirty old man. It was interesting.

So tomorrow begins another fabulous three day weekend. WOOOOHOOOOO!!!!! It's also payday and hopefully Julie-Gets-Her-Car-Back Day. The guy said he could get the tinting taken care of there, but I hope it doesn't take 'em any longer. I so miss my little civic-mobile. I also need to go open an account at a different bank. I am sooooo very against Bank of America. To all of you BofA accountholders, be aware that if you get broken into and your account gets messed up, Bank of America will hold you financially responsible. And speaking to a supervisor to work the situation out is not an option. They won't allow you to contact anyone. It's true. You can't even get a name or address. Funny how they don't mention all this on their ads! Shocking, really.

So tomorrow night I'm booked with Jason, I forget what we're doing. Saturday night I'm going out with Devorah and Craig. Sunday...I want to go to the beach, doesn't that sound lovely?

Ohhh, I so can't wait for this shift to be gone. LOL It hasn't even started yet...blah!

toilet paper healthcare and (some) other stuff on my mind

So on Saturday I arrived at work to find that I was only allowed one box of gauze for my 8 patients. Period. There were 4, count 'em, 4 boxes of gauze left. In the UNIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hellooooo!!!!!!!!! Hemodialysis!! HEMO!!! Hemo means blood, for God's sake! Devorah said it best, it's like runnning a gas station without gas. It's been known for a while that the tech manager is not really concerned with the whole "stocking" thing. But gauze? Wow. Marisol and I were in one of those moods...punchy as hell, I think it'd be called. We've been that a lot lately, come to think of it. We decided that since we were essentially out of gauze we'd have to use toilet paper. *snickers* Imagine, here you are with needles hanging from your arm and it's time for the tech to pull 'em. Instead of walking up with sterile gauze in her hot little purple glove clad hand, she busts out with a roll of toilet paper and tears off a wad. DAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!! Sooo fucking wrong. Ohhhh, so funny. So naturally, our next move was to get a roll of toilet paper out of the supply closet and I wrote "For use when out of gauze. Please conserve." and stuck it on top of one of the comps at the nurses' station in the middle of the patient care floor. Hahaha, it was still there yesterday. *chortle* We've been telling people that supplies of toilet paper are limited and starting today we're all going to have to bring our own. *teehee!*

In our time together Marisol and I have done some pretty funny stuff, but this is one of the funnier things. It's right up there with the time we took a porcelain doll that had been brought in by a psycho coworker (the one that steals life stories) to raffle off. Don't ask, it won't make any more sense with an explanation. We'd been looking at this doll for weeks, and it was creepy as hell! We were all concerned that it'd come to life late one night when we were finishing up and the morning shift would be overwhelmed with our lifeless, bloodied corpses upon entering. So I decide it'd be funny to doctor the doll up a bit. We took a plastic knife and re-did it to look like a bloody butcher knife, fastening it to her hand. It was complete with drops of blood dripping from it and everything. It was fabulous. We raised her knife-arm menacingly and turned her head at an even creepier than usual angle and put her back where she'd been. I have pics somewhere... Our boss had trouble getting mad at us because she thought it was funny, too. *sigh* Awww, those were the good old days.

*

I have a few patients that say my name when they address me. It's just nice. One guy barely speaks any english at all but he still manages to say "thank you, Julie, or "goodnight, Julie." It's just sweet. It makes me feel like I'm not some random tech. Of course how could I be. I'm one of the loudest, and most nights the most giggly. And you know? Despite what wretched, vitriolic old Thomas says, I think it's a good thing for the circumstances. But then Thomas never laughs unless it's in a bitter, disapproving way. And there is no joy in that.

*

Craig came up last night. It was fab. We sat and watched "View from the Top" with Gwyneth Paltrow. It was sweet! It was a total princess movie. He said I needed to laugh after the Car Trauma-Fest '05. I have been, but it was good to laugh some more, and with him. Sadly, we stayed up so late that I only got a few hours of sleep, but hey! I'm halfway through the functional part of my week, I can be tired and it's all okay.

*

Profile Vexation

I recently joined myspace.com, thanks to my old pal Evan, aka Eban the Arian, aka Luder the Slack-Jawed Yokel. For the record, Evan is a Jewish punk kid, so none of his aka's are actually valid. Anywho, through that and another of my sites I occasionally breeze through, I've seen a fair amount of personal profiles. And you know? People are stupid! It's true! Keshau mentioned this very thing in her profile, I instantly approved. Here's a few that aggravate me more than most:

~"I am one of the nicest people you'll ever meet." Okay, aside from sounding lame at face value, who the fuck needs to say that? Do we really need to try and convince people of that? I mean, have you ever seen a profile that says "well, I'm pretty much an asshole. A sociopath, arguably. I can't say I'm very popular, but hey! I get by with the bodies I keep in my basement." I mean, please!

~"I'm looking for someone who can keep it real..." As opposed to someone who can keep it fake?

~"I like sexy attractive women..." Ohh really? You mean you don't like hags and trogs? Por que no?

~"li'l" This is only a problem if you think it's okay.

~PEOPLE WHO TYPE ONLY IN CAPS. Whoooa there, turbo. Chill on out, my little friend.

~Really obvious typos... Everyone makes mistakes sometimes, s'okay. But good grief! Really obvious, huge, glaring ones that aren't fixed?! AAAAACK!


Honestly. Now I'm going to rush off and check out all my profiles and make sure I haven't done any of these things...

music: Comfortably Numb, Pink Floyd
mood: caffeinated/tired

Good Grief

God help me...egads, even. I'm toast. Any time I feel something so....passionately, it can't be a good thing. For the first time I feel the urge to run like hell. If only I had emotional valium! Wouldn't that be loverly?

"Tired of feeling whatever? No problem! Take an Emotional Valium! Now in convenient time-released transdermal patches! New and improved patch stays on in the shower!"

MmmmMmm good, baby! It'd be like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind only ever so much less invasive. But no. No valium for me.

The good news is that my house is relatively clean. It's not immaculate, but it doesn't induce stress upon entering. *whew* Hot diggity Goddamn that's good enough for me.

I had my bi-monthly talk with Anne tonight, it was great. My kitten, Rocket, is getting all big and rowdy. Awww, Rocket Pop. She's my little angel kitten. My boys, Troy and Anthony, are behaving as well as ever. They're my little monkey kids. I miss it up there, it's so beautiful. I'm thinking maybe I'll go up around Christmas. Mmmmm snowalicious.....

I've basically narrowed my moving away decision. As much as I adore Portland, I don't think I really want to move there yet. I can always go after I get out of school.... No, the options have been narrowed to SF or Washington. And since Washington, while cheap, beautiful, and Anne-Troy-and-Anthony-full, is maybe a bit too...KKK for me. I may not be anyone's baby, but the KKK is not going to take me away, thank you. And if any of you know that reference, I will be eternally pleased with you.

mood: terrified
music: Dare, Gorillaz

And why the hell has no one told me about Gorillaz?! Cripes, they're fabulous!

The Event that Took Over My Week, Part Two

Getting into my two month old car and finding the window hanging by its tinting and everything stolen wasn't bad enough. It's true. I had to be woken up by lame-ass SBC threatening to turn off my phone. And then I had to discover that due to a stolen deposit, I am now hundreds of dollars overdrawn. That's hundreds of dollars of fees, about twenty dollars in the hole before that. Of course I wouldn't have been overdrawna t all if that inbred piece of filth hadn't stolen my purse. I have the police report to prove it. Bank of America isn't impressed though, they don't really give a damn. Nope. In fact, they have decided to join the motherfucker in robbing me. They're not refunding the fees. Evidently Bank of America's goal of excellent customer service only extends so far. Further fucking me, the victim, doesn't seem to concern them. That's great. I was really worried because I won't be able to pay rent, due to their bullshit fees. But you know? It's okay, because I just won't have my check deposited there. *smiles brilliantly* I have no business with them if this is how they treat their clients. I'll just open a new account at another bank. If B of A wants my fucking cash they can wait for it. Motherfuckers. *smile*

You know? I've just about fucking had it. Yep. If it wasn't for my pals and my mom and dad, I'd have likely gone on a killing spree of every worthless piece of shit that could have possibly perpetrated this little crime. Not to mention Bank of America.

Seriously, if you're bank shopping, consider if you want a bank that holds you financially liable for events beyond your control, a bank that further victimizes victims.

thou shall vent when shittyness occurs....

This is one of the lost commandments discovered by the great Biblical scholar, Keshau. It's true. I feel the need to post a disclaimer for my previous posting. Just let it be known that while I sound like a sick, twisted, serial killer-to-be, I am not. I just wanna kill the person that fucked up my car. HAHAHA!!!! Just kidding. I'm just venting...and it's hateful stuff, isn't it? I mean most of it, the stuff about the person being ignorant, drug addicted filth. I'm sorry, but worthy, civilized people don't do things like this. The whole torture and murder thing is taking it a bit far, but hey, c'est venting!

The Event that Took Over My Week

Monday was one of those glorious days where everything went beautifully. I spent an hour on the phone with my new amiga from SF and had a fabulous time. I went to work in a good mood because of it, and was pleased as hell to work with the A Team (Frank, Craig, Marisol, and I...not the bad 80's tv guys). The A Team is always a good thing, but when everyone's in a fabulous AND functional mood it's just bliss. All the work was completed effortlessly, the patients were taken care of, the schedule easily met. With our free time we all sat around and shmoozed, laughing about the incompetent and neurotic techs and RN on other shifts. It was lovely. I needed to get up early for my tuesday classes so everyone agreed that I should leave early, and I told them I'd go as soon as my work was done. I wound up staying the whole shift almost to collect holiday pay, and at 20 minutes to 11 Marisol and I went out for an on the clock smoke. She was inside getting her stuff and I went out to sit in the car and get my smokearettes. As I sat there I noticed my glove compartment was open. I thought to myself "I don't remember leaving it that way!" I'm a bit slow about these things, you know. Then I noticed my owners manual on the floor and as if guided by an invisible force I turned my head to the rear passenger side window, one of those little triangle windows in a coupe that don't roll down. It was shattered, glass all over my back seat, much of the window hanging by the fucking exquisite tint job I'd had done. The filth had stolen my handmade purse (complete with wallet and checkbook), my t-shirt, my black fuzzy camping pants I'd just gotten back from Rachel and the present inside the pocket, my lunch bag (found later), my beaded kitty purse, my fucking school binder(!!!), everything but the cigarettes (they were left behind), and the phone. The phone was sitting on the little dash under the speedometer. My theory is that the valueless piece of trash that broke into my car had insufficient observational skills due to the crack that his valueless piece of trash mother smoked while she was spawning him. Not to mention the years of crack ingested by said piece of filth himself. He had rifled through my Hello Kitty garbage bag and found nothing, and come to think of it, he didn't want the discman thingy in the glove and I don't think he saw my elph camera. If he stole my elph, I would have hunted him down and he would have died slowly and painfully. Honest to Christ, he would have wound up in a shallow grave. That camera has been everywhere with me. I'm already decidedly close to that resolution, even with the camera. We rang the bank and cancelled my card, rang my parents and had them cancel theirs as well. I still had their American Express from my road trip. They always give me a card to take when I go out of town. They're divine, you know. But back to my wrath. So there's a chip of paint missing and a deep scratch from what appears to be the screwdriver they used on my two month old car. There were fingerprints all over the area around the window. Craig rang the cops for me and told them about the prints. They didn't give a fuck. They suggested I go to the handy dandy website and post my case there. It seems they couldn't come out and have a fucking look because they were too busy beating their wives and random minorites. Motherfuckers. You know the vile beast that did this does this shit all the time, you know he has a record. Had they not been too busy assaulting minorities and spouses they could have pulled up the prints and arrested the trash. And then I wouldn't have had to research it myself. And the end result I'm looking for would have been well on its way to occurring. Someday, even without my help, this inferior and worthless piece of filth is going to end up in prison where I'm hoping for his repeated and brutal rape and contraction of AIDS, cared for only by substandard prison healthcare. AIDS, by the way, is one of the most horrible and painful deaths I've seen. I used to say that no one deserved that. My goodwill has run out, although admittedly it's probably only temporary. So now I'm fucked. I have a $500 deductible to fix the window, and I know it's shocking but I haven't got $500 laying around waiting for some ignorant, hopeless, subhuman disease to fuck up my car. So now I have a frozen bank account, no money for a deductible, no binder for school, and a gaping hole in my poor car. And every time I go to get my purse, a reminder that I no longer have one. Fuck. There's a special place in hell for the trash that does this shit, and I'm doing my best to help mine get there soon.

Huzzah for found keys!

Well hello there... I know, I know, it's been a while. The good news is that I had a three day weekend and YAY! I found my keys! Or rather my mother did. *rolls eyes* Now if she can just find my sign language text. Right, anyway...the keys were outside ina corner of the yard I haven't been in in weeks. My theory is that I dropped them out front and Fozzie came along and took them away. Little punk. I was pleased as hell to find 'em though.

So I have two new endeavors at the moment, I'm rather smitten with both. Last night Gotti and I went and played pool. He's actually quite good, almost as good as Aaron, actually. In fact he might be, although he hadn't played in a long time. Gotti is probably the only person that could ever teach me ANYTHING and not lose my interest or cause me to get too irritated and ditch it. I made enough decent shots to see that I could really enjoy it if I ever get it down. Smashing, I think we're going agin next week,a lthough we need someplace cheaper. Then we went home and played poker. I know the basic idea, but I learned like four different games. Fabulous. I'm more into the pool thing, though.

I'm sleepy, coffee is calling me. Ttfn!

it's too early!

I woke up before 8 today because I had to take Fozzie to the vet to get his snip-snip-ectomy. AKA neutering, for those of you new to the State of Julie. I had planned on coming home and going back to sleep, but I can't help remembering all the crap I need to get done, so goddamn it, I'm staying up. *sigh*

You know? I had something to say when I started this post, but it evaporated into the fog that is my consciousness right now, so you all are on your own.