It’s A Two-fer Tues-Monday

January 18, 2010April 9, 2010 ~ riggledo ~ 1 Comment

I was just reading this over at Dooce.com and as usual laughed heartily (well at least in my head I did – I am at work after all) at the humor contained there-in. Dooce.com is one of the many blogs I subscribe to in my Google Reader to make sure that I don’t miss anything and over the last year-ish that I’ve been reading her blog, it has not been difficult for me to comprehend Heather’s style of communicating. She’s funny, she’s sarcastic, she’s quick witted. When I first started reading her blog and hadn’t seen her on any TV shows or any of the Momversation videos she’s done, my mind automatically drew a connection and I heard Heather’s words in Christa Miller’s voice. By the way, Heather is totally capable of being serious and doing good things for the world as well. But why get too caught up in that when there’s humor to be had, right?

Anyway, as I read this post, I was amazed at the idea that people wouldn’t know when she’s being funny and would take her seriously at times when she’s so obviously not being serious. I enjoy reading this kind of blog. It makes me laugh and lightens my day and I frequently wish I could do a better job of writing like that. See, I don’t think, even for a minute that she means half the things she says. They are, at best, loosely based in reality and then imagination takes over and what finally ends up on the screen is usually the result of placing a higher priority on humor than on absolute truth.

And that, I think, is my “problem”. Not that truth and honesty are a problem but they are a hindrance in striving for that kind of writing. I find that, more often than not, I start out with the intent to write something humorous and while the finished product may be considered “good”, it’s not what I started out to write. I’m not complaining or suggesting that I’m going to go out of my way to change my style. This is my voice and it is what it is. But it got me thinking…

It’s so easy for me to be completely open and honest on this blog. It’s almost pathological as demonstrated by the phenomenon mentioned above. And yet, when I’m talking to people face to face, it’s so hard for me to open up. Not just hard to open up completely, but to open up very much at all. I tend to crack jokes to lighten the mood and divert attention from my own discomfort. I withhold information, thoughts or feelings because I’m afraid of what the person will think, or how they will judge me.

This past Friday, at the coming out support group (if you can call me and the facilitator a group – no one else attended, again) I talked about not having any friends. John, the facilitator, said, “I find that hard to believe.” I amended my statement, “I have one friend. And I don’t have any gay friends.” (As a quick side bar, because I worry about how some people might take this. When I say I don’t have any friends, I mean people that I hang out with. I have acquaintances at work and besides Michelle, I have my friend Heather who lives in Oklahoma and I only see once or twice a year but otherwise don’t have much communication with. Michelle is my only “friend.”)

I’ve talked more than once about my lack of friends during my therapy sessions. After a lifetime of not having a lot of friends, I struggle with the idea that anyone would want to be my friend. Deb of course disagrees with this conclusion, but suspects that I put up barriers to prevent people from really getting close. She’s right of course, even Michelle, who I talk more to and spend the most time with, doesn’t know a lot of things about me. (She doesn’t even read this blog, for crying out loud!) I have been astounded, more than once, by the number of people who have shown an interest in me on this blog and on Twitter. People who are seeing more of the real me, but they only see that part of me because I let them, because in a way, none of them are real and therefore there’s no risk involved with showing more of myself to them. All these people who are only sort of real, but not really, not to me, seeing the true me and liking what they see, and I can’t seem to manage to do the same thing when I’m looking someone in the eye.

John told me that he had been thinking of inviting me out for a drink or something because he was interested in getting to know me better, outside of the context of the support group. (John has a partner. He’s not asking me out, he wants to be my friend.) After telling him that I only have one friend and no gay friends he invited me to his house this Saturday night for his “monthly gay men’s dinner party”. I instantly felt terror at the prospect of having to meet new people. I’ll go. I need to go. And besides I’ve been ordered to go by a certain carrot nosed reader and twitter friend of mine. But I’ll admit I’m scared.

We Will Be Victorious!

January 18, 2010February 11, 2011 ~ riggledo ~ 2 Comments

It’s a cold and dreary day in the Bay Area. It’s been raining since I woke up this morning, and probably longer than that. I haven’t washed my new car since I bought it two months ago, because every time I thought about it, the weather reports threatened rain. Of course, even when it did rain, it didn’t rain on my car. I have a garage at home and an in-door parking garage at work and so the rain always held off until the car was in one of those two places. My car was filthy! This morning it poured down rain the entire way to work. Admittedly, that’s only four miles and in some people’s eyes today is a holiday so there wasn’t much traffic. My drive was a short one, but the rain was coming down in sheets and I think my car is probably sparkling clean again!

Today, as most of you know, is the day we commemorate Martin Luther King, Jr. and his efforts in the civil rights movement of the 1960s. Having been born in 1975 and coming from a northern family, it’s hard for me to conceive of a time when blacks and whites were not considered equal. Separate schools? Different water fountains? Really? That’s preposterous! Laws prohibiting the marriage of a black person to a white person? Surely you jest! “Separate but equal?” There is no such thing and every conservative I ever knew would tell you so. We live in a civilized society where everyone s treated equally and with respect and decency, right?!? The idea that all these things existed, just a few short years before I was born was simply outlandish to me.

Despite growing up in a family which hovered dangerously close to the poverty line (which, by the way is a joke for how low it is) I was privileged. I’m male. I’m white. I have blue eyes. One could even argue that I’m blond (or was before I lost my hair). What advantage could I possibly not have? I mean, really!

Three years ago, I finally accepted something about myself that I really had known all along. And in that moment of acceptance, I took a step into a foreign land. I found myself in a place I could not comprehend. I found myself to be a minority. You see, I was a blond haired, blue eyed, white male, with the world as my oyster (or so “they” would tell you), and every advantage imaginable (except for a fat bank account.) But with that acceptance, I became a blond haired, blue eyed, white, gay male in a world steeped in controversy over whether or not I should be allowed to exist; a world that questions the validity of my natural, God-given preferences and desires; a world that thinks that who and what I am is a choice and not a fact of my life, and therefore, is not worthy of equality; a world that would just as soon send me to a separate school, and have me drink from a separate water fountain and tell me that my rights are equal to theirs, just as long as I keep them separate from theirs.

As a kid, I always thought that some day, many, many years into the future, Marriage between two people, regardless of race or gender, would be no big deal. It would be legal for two people to get married and love each other and have a happy and fulfilling life together without fear or retribution from society. Yes, I was raised to believe that homosexuality was wrong and that those marriages between two people of the same gender would be immoral, but I was also taught the very important concept of separation of church and state and therefore believed that marriage between two people of the same gender should be legal even if it was immoral. (My beliefs about the morality of homosexuality are different now, but that’s not what this post is about.)

I always believed that some day, right here in this country, we would reach a point in our political culture where it would be agreed that legalizing same sex marriage would be the right thing to do. I also always suspected that it would be when I was very old, or even after I had died.

It is not without some sense of irony that I began to accept myself for who I was,right around the time that the mayor of one bustling metropolis decided that it was discrimination not to issue marriage licenses to same sex couples and issued an edict to his staff to change that. Soon after, loving, committed same-sex couples from around the country flocked to that mayor’s office applying for marriage licenses and saying their vows before a justice of the peace, finally gaining a sense of acceptance and normalcy that they had longed for.

A few months later, that mayor was ordered to cease and desist issuing same-sex marriage licenses and the marriages that had been performed were deemed invalid.

In May, 2008, six separate appeals were brought before the California Supreme Court protesting the constitutionality of this action which ultimately resulted in the court determining that prohibiting same sex marriage was indeed unconstitutional and ordered that same sex marriages be legalized and licenses issued, not just in the thriving metropolis, but throughout the state.

I was surprised. I was also pleased, because not only had an injustice, that I had seen to be so my entire life, been undone, but it actually mattered to me personally because it affected me personally… or at least it could, someday.

And then the campaign started when a hate mongering group of people put together a petition to add a law, later to be known as Proposition 8, to the November, 2008 ballot. Proposition 8 was intended to add an amendment to the state constitution which would define marriage as existing between one man and one woman and making any other type of union illegal. I became aware of the question early on, but I was complacent and delusional. I saw countless “No on 8” signs, bumper stickers and television commercials, but nary a one “Yes on 8” anything. Everything I had read on-line and in magazines was anti-Prop 8. And the legality of same sex marriages was already in place. I couldn’t believe that in a state like California there was any chance that a bill like Prop 8 stood a chance of passing. I didn’t do a thing beyond casting my own vote against Proposition 8.

I, like the majority of the rest of the country stayed up late, watched and waited for the results. November 4, 2008 was an historic day for all of us and I wanted to know how it would turn out. Who would be our next President? And by how much of a majority would this hateful, horrible Proposition 8 be defeated?

President Obama won, by a landslide… early even! Not really a surprise there, but worth waiting up for all the same. Prop 8, on the other hand, was too close to call and the ballot counting was taking an eternity, it seemed. When I awoke on Wednesday, November 5, 2008, I was shocked and devastated by what I had learned. Moreover, I was pissed!

I wrote this and posted it to my previous blog:

An Open Letter to 52% of the Voters of the State of California

Dear 52% of the Voters of the State of California-

I want to thank you!

I want to thank you for recognizing that I am every bit as much of a human being as you are!

I want to thank you for finally acknowledging that Separation of Church and State means that even if you don’t agree on a moral level that I should be entitled to marry the man of my dreams, you at least realize that yours is a religious perspective and not a political one and therefore decided to grant me my fundamental human rights to marry the man I love.

I want to thank you for recognizing the direction this country is heading, catching up with the rest of the world, and agreeing to consider me equal, deserving of all the same rights as you.

I want to thank you for voting to defeat this hate mongering proposition to take away my rights to marry the man of my dreams, because you realize that whatever your personal opinion of marriage might be, this issue is much bigger than you or me, and therefore you MUST vote to maintain those rights for all Californian’s regardless of sexual orientation.

I want to thank you for all of these things…

Sadly, I can’t.

Those of you who read my blog on a regular basis have probably noticed a glaring absence from my post recently. I can’t answer for the first week of January, other than that I was just back from a trip and had work piled up on my desk, but last week (and possibly the rest of this week) I was very preoccupied with keeping myself informed of the goings on with the federal appeal in the courts now (not today – they view it as a holiday) to consider the prospect of overturning Proposition 8. The defense in this case, the side that wants to continue to withhold my rights, fought very hard to keep the public from knowing what’s happening in the court room. The question of televising the case was shot down. The United States Supreme Court overruled the sitting judge’s intention to record the proceedings and post them on You Tube.

There are many outlets available, I’m sure. I have chosen the Courage Campaign Prop 8 Trial Tracker for my source of information. Rick Jacobs, the founder of the Courage Campaign Institute, has been in the court house overflow room, where the proceedings are being shown to a small group of media, and has been typing his little fingers to the bone to get as much of the information out, up to the minute, as he can and I have been fastidiously following along. See, I decided that this time, I do not want to be a bystander who knew nothing about what was happening until the outcome was announced on the news. This time, I wanted to know the truth. I wanted to know what actually happened in the court room that brought us to the conclusion the judge will reach.

I must tell you, it’s discouraging information. “Our” side is making compelling, rational, logical arguments that would be hard – in my opinion – to refute. The Prop 8 side is making irrational, childish, I-know-you-are-but-what-am-I types of arguments that are short-sighted to say the least and ludicrous in most cases. It’s hard for me to comprehend that anyone could believe the things these guys are spouting and yet, it’s much the same hogwash that is spouted by my family.

I’m reading this coverage and I’m trying to logically process what’s being said and it seems like any logical human being would have to come down on the side of overturning the law. But there’s something inside me… A voice in the back of my head. It’s the voice that I often think I need to learn to pay better attention to because it tends to know things, tends to be pretty accurate… That voice in the back of my head is saying, “Our side is making an excellent case. Prop 8 side is acting like ignorant children. No one in their right mind would side with them… And yet? We are going to lose.”

I hope that voice is wrong, but I doubt it. And the truth is, whether that voice is wrong or not, it won’t end here. Whoever loses this case will take it to the next level of courts to appeal it again and again and again until it can’t go any farther. And there are those who believe that if this question goes to the Supreme Court of the United States and if the SCOTUS rules against “us”, it will be another generation before marriage equality is in place.

Seems that my child hood belief may not be so far from correct after all. I believe this country will have marriage equality some day. But if we want to have it, we will have to fight for it, every step of the way!

There’s a song that came on my iPod the other day and has been in my head ever since. The band is called Muse and the song is called Uprising. I first became aware of it when the chorus was used in the promotional ads for the new TV series V, and the video for the song is nothing short of bizarre. I’m quite sure I’m making the words fit my own cause and really I’m OK with that because they do fit.

This is Uprising:

The paranoia is in bloom, the PR
Transmissions will resume, they’ll try to
Push drugs, keep us all dumb down and hope that
We will never see the truth around, so come on

Another promise, another scene, another
Packaged lie to keep us trapped in greed with all the
Green belts wrapped around our minds and endless
Red tape to keep the truth confined, so come on

They will not force us
And they will stop degrading us
And they will not control us
We will be victorious, so come on

Interchanging mind control, come let the
Revolution take its toll, if you could
Flick a switch and open your third eye, you’d see that
We should never be afraid to die, so come on

Rise up and take the power back, it’s time that
The fat cats had a heart attack, you know that
Their time is coming to an end, we have to
Unify and watch our flag ascend, so come on

They will not force us
They will stop degrading us
They will not control us
We will be victorious, so come on!

A Quickie

December 30, 2009May 7, 2010 ~ riggledo ~ 6 Comments

Minds out of the gutter people, that’s not what I meant!

This is going to be a quick post as I’ve much to do and little time to do it.

I’m terrible at preparing for travel. I’m pretty good at traveling, I rarely even forget anything, (knocks wood that this will not be the first time I do), I’m just bad at preparing. I hate to pack and I’m always at the last minute with the compiling of things to go along for the ride.

Michelle will be picking me up from my house (where I currently am not) in about 45 minutes so that we can go pick up our rental car for the drive up to Reno tomorrow, and then I have to get back home, and take a shower, fix something to eat, and pack my suit case – while trying in vain not to let the cat see (he gets upset) – and then do a minimal amount of housework so that my downstairs neighbor who will look in on said moping kitty while I’m gone will think I live in less than squalor. (By the way, this is wasted effort as she was in my apartment yesterday so I could show her where everything is, but it’ll make me feel better.)

Tomorrow, I pick Michelle up at noon and we make our way to The Biggest Little City in the World for a little holiday fun and poor man’s gaming. I’m not much of a gambler, so much as a “I pay to play a slot machine” kinda guy, going in with $X amount of money that I’m willing to pay to play and if I happen to win a “prize” while I’m playing, so much the better… (And God? I could really use the prize right about now! I’m just sayin’.)

I spoke to Michelle earlier today on the phone and she was all sniffly and gross. So much for avoiding getting sick before our trip. Now we’re both going to be congested as we travel through the mountains and we won’t even be able to have a conversation because we won’t be able to hear each other. Oh well, we’re going to have fun anyway!

We were in Reno two years ago and there wasn’t a whole lot going on. We’ve heard rumors and I hope they’re true that things are picking up again and we hope there’ll be more going on. The main thing is that we’re not sitting around at home doing nothing like a couple of unloved losers! (No offense to anyone who is spending New Year’s Eve at home.) 🙂

I guess that’s it for now. I don’t imagine I’ll be able to do much blogging while I’m in Reno, but you never know. I’ll try and tweet a bit (Michelle gets cranky when I tweet, but she might just have to suck it up.) So if you don’t already follow me on twitter and you want to, look for me at https://twitter.com/riggledo

I’ll be back as soon as I’m able. And just in case I don’t get another chance, “HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!” See you in 2010!

A Christmas Miracle

December 29, 2009January 28, 2011 ~ riggledo ~ 1 Comment

I know that I was pretty subtle with my thoughts yesterday, but you may have picked up from my last post that I have been sickly for the last week. Unfortunately, I’m still somewhat afflicted, and expect I will be for several more days as my body, once in possession of some sort of pestilence prefers to hold on tight and get it’s money’s worth. This should make my trip into the mountains later this week, quite enjoyable. You see, I live at forty feet above sea level. That’s it. Only forty feet. While I believe my final destination on Thursday is a few hundred feet lower, the highest point of my journey will be approximately 7800 feet above sea level. Given the congestion that I’m already experiencing I can only imagine the assent and subsequent descent shall be torturous and my hearing for the evening will likely be impaired. Despite how miserable I make it sound, I am truly looking forward to this trip as it is a few days away from home, and off work, and allows an opportunity to have some fun. This is not the point of today’s post.

Because of the blight that has been placed upon my immune system, I have not been to the gym in a week. I even canceled my session with my personal trainer last night because I did not want to spread my germs around any more than I had to. I wish I could say that I miss it. I wish I could tell you that I love going to the gym so much that this time away has been really hard on me. I would say those things but, well, I’d be lying! I am not at the level of enjoyment that makes me unhappy when I do not get to go, and in fact, I thrill at the valid and worthy excuse to blow it off! That’s how I feel about going. Once I’m there is a different matter. I know it’s good for me and I am seeing results from it, so I want to keep doing it, even if I don’t enjoy it. Isn’t it strange how you can want to do something you don’t like to do? This is not the point of today’s post.

I have a weakness for ice cream. Even in the course of this new endeavor to become a healthier person, I have enjoyed the occasional helping of ice cream. I like it a lot, but I try to be conscious of how much and how often, I eat it. I admit that I don’t eat the ½ cup servings the packaging calls for, but I am not eating half the container in one setting as I might have done in the past, either.

I don’t get terribly extravagant either. I actually, really enjoy a scoop or two of plain French Vanilla ice cream with sliced fresh strawberries. C’est magnifique! (I do not speak French; I had to look that up.)

But when I’m really misbehaving, I enjoy Breyers All Natural Mint Chocolate Chip. It’s got a delicious, refreshing flavor that I really enjoy, and t he chocolate chips in it are awesome! I usually only buy ice cream when it’s on sale, usually a twofer of some sort, and then I buy one tub of each flavor.

The other day, I was walking through Target (I can be found there nearly every Saturday, sadly, I’d probably be less broke if I weren’t) and I happened to see a display of Nestle Toll House (am I the only one who always wants to say Nest-lay Toll Hoose?) chips of various varieties. One of them caught my attention because it had green chips in it. This was a package of Dark Chocolate and Mint chips! How could I resist? I thought, I bet that would be great on my vanilla ice cream! I thought wrong! The chips weren’t that great with the ice cream, but there was a recipe on the back that sounded pretty great so last week Wednesday, after I knew I would not be required to grace the courthouse with my presence for jury duty, I made the recipe.

It was the first time I’ve ever made brownies and I’ll tell you it was an interesting experience. I didn’t realize the batter starts out so thick. Anyway, they were fantastic, if I do say so myself. And I ate about ¾ of them on my own over the course of three days. The rest of them I gave to Michelle for her niece and nephew. (hopefully they’re not plague ridden.) This is not the point of today’s post.

The house next door to mine is occupied by a family of some unspecified Asian origin. The father, I think, works in construction of some sort. The mother, I think, doesn’t work at all. And there are three young kids, the oldest of which looks like he’s about nine or ten years old.

About a year ago, there came a knock at my door and when I opened it the oldest child was standing on the step holding a bag containing a disposable aluminum pan. He handed the bag to me, said, “My mom said you could have these” and walked away. When I got back into the kitchen with the pan I was greeted by a simultaneously appealing and revolting aroma. To this day, I don’t really know what the food item is. The closest thing I can imagine is that it’s something similar to, if not actually, egg rolls, wrapped in some kind of wrapper like won tons and deep fried. They reek of fry oil and they’re made of unidentifiable ingredients.

Now, I did taste the items before turning my nose up at them, but I couldn’t eat them and I couldn’t stand the smell of them in my house. I wrapped the pan back up, nice and tight, and took it out to the trash. I felt terrible about it, but didn’t know what else to do. I assumed this was a one time thing and it wouldn’t be that big a deal.

Since then, she has sent her son to my door six or seven times with a pan of these fried food things that I can not stand to smell and must extricate from my living space post haste. I’ve found myself in a bit of a catch 22 because I feel bad throwing this food away, and yet, I feel like it’s too late to tell her, “thanks, but no thanks.” Not to mention, I’ve never spoken to her as it’s always her son to bring the food.

Come to think of it, I think I’ve told you all this before so I’ll stop boring you with the unnecessary information.

On Thursday, the little boy knocked on my door and sure enough, he had the pan of greasy fried things in his hands. Sitting on top of the pan, however, was a box of Russell Stover’s chocolates. Naturally, I threw out the egg rolls as soon as no one was looking but I kept the box of chocolates and ate everyone one of them, over the course of four days. This is not the point of today’s post.

As I mentioned yesterday, I had grand ideas of all that I was going to accomplish over the course of this long week-end, things that would mean lots of physical activity and movement, rather than hours upon hours of sitting on my ass doing nothing. And as I mentioned yesterday, this did not happen. I spent almost the entire time watching TV and playing Mario Kart (and eating apparently). This, too, is not the point of today’s post.

So let’s recap, shall we? Sick for a week. No gym for a week. Baked and ate a whole mess of brownies in a very short span of time. Ate entire box of chocolates in same very short span of time. No physical activity to speak of for a week. Finally, we have arrived at the point of today’s post: I LOST FOUR POUNDS!!

Despite all the cards stacked against me, I actually managed to continue losing weight and now weigh less than I have since I started this journey, less than I have in four years.

Best of all, as of today, for the first time in four years, the weight on my driver’s license is actually true! Now I just have to get my ass back in the gym before that number starts creeping upward again!

Dissatisfied

December 28, 2009May 7, 2010 ~ riggledo ~ 3 Comments

I can tell you now, you should probably skip this post. I’m pretty sure it’s not going to say anything. It will probably be fairly incoherent. And that’s not a ploy to get you to compliment me or make encouraging comments; it’s just a simple fact.

I’ve been blocked for the last couple of weeks. I’ve reached a point in my book, a development in the plot, which I knew had to happen in order to get to the next step, but I hadn’t thought through how it was going to go down. It has to go down or the next thing that I have thought through can’t… ahem “go down” but I’m stuck, unsure how to write this part. Several times now, I’ve sat down, plugged my thumb drive into the computer and pulled up the file and stared. I’ve written a few words here and there, but for the most part I’ve just stared.

That blockage seems to have carried over into my blog writing as well. I’ve been unsure how to – what to write about. I’m blocked. But, I’ve heard more than once that the best way to get over writers block is to just write, unconcerned about how it turns out. So here I am. Like I said, this will probably be fairly incoherent.

I’ve been in sort of a weird place, emotionally, especially today… more so today. I’m not circling the volcano, exactly. I don’t really feel as if the beast is catching up. It’s just… what?

It’s been five days since I was at work. I had already taken Christmas Eve off and of course Christmas day was a holiday, but I ended up calling in sick on the 23^rd. One of my co-workers came to work on the 22^nd sick and despite endless grousing and curmudgeonly behavior in the recent past when a third co-worker came to work sick and shared germs, the first co-worker decided to come to work despite having a rasping, rattling cough and profusely leaking proboscis in need of constant evacuation and then proceeded to wander far and wide through our small and enclosed office suite ensuring maximum distribution of whatever plague (or common cold) germs she happened to be in possession of. Perhaps it was her germerosity, or perhaps it was my own curmudgeonliness at the fact that she came to work in said condition, or perhaps it was my stress level set to orange with the knowledge that I had a jury duty summons for the 23^rd that I wouldn’t know if I had to appear for until late on the 22^nd, or perhaps it was my pure and simple irritation (despite trying to not be) at the fact that she brought these germs into our tiny office space to begin with, despite her own feelings on the issue and despite knowing that I am to be going out of town on the 31^st (because it is all about me, after all) and that I would definitely not want to be sick for that trip, but I did indeed get sick and I didn’t come to work on the last day before my Christmas break and I blame it all on this co-worker and if you actually followed this little tirade you deserve some sort of a prize. I’d offer you some of the brownies I made last week but, well, they’re gone and they were probably plague ridden anyway.

I had big “plans” for my long holiday week-end. Those plans involved dinner with Michelle on Thursday night (she baled on me because no one gets sicker longer than I do except for Michelle and she’s going with me on the 31^st and didn’t want to catch my affliction as well – though she did stop by and bring me a piece of fish and my Christmas present) and hours and hours and days and days of house cleaning. The Christmas present that Michelle brought me was Mario Kart for my Wii. Some of you may think that sounds a bit childish for this 30-something guy, but trust me when I tell you it’s AWESOME!!! To be fair, I didn’t even spend all that much time playing it – all though there were two ridiculously late nights…

As for the cleaning, I did get a little bit done. I finally went through one stack of papers and filed what should be and tossed what should be and now there’s another section of living room floor that is visible and therefore available to get dusty and cat hairy and if I’m very, very unlucky, barfed on (by the cat, not me.) I wanted to get the cleaning done because while it’s apparently not that important for me to live in an immaculate home, it is that important for the outside world to think I do and very soon, my downstairs neighbor, who I don’t really even know all that well, but trust enough for this purpose, will be coming into my house twice a day for a few days to look after Mischa for me whilst Michelle and I take a very short, very under funded road trip to Reno for New Year’s and I want the neighbor to think I live like a prince rather than a pauper. It’s looking like the pauper is the more likely impression.

So, I’m feeling a little – AH HAH! Dissatisfied is the word I need here! I’m feeling dissatisfied, in part, because my house isn’t immaculate and spotless like I wanted to make it, even though I truly didn’t want to exert the energy to make it that way, especially once I became cursed with the scourge from work and instead watched just about everything on my DVR and then some (I’ve finished all the Scrubs DVD’s I own and need to buy the next season – season four – and have watched a couple movies as well.) So I feel dissatisfied because at the end of five days I have very little productivity to show for myself and still want my house to be cleaner.

During those five days, I never once looked at Google Reader and therefore didn’t read any blogs. If my feeling of “dissatisfaction” this morning is any indication, that may be a good thing. You see, I read all the blog posts I had missed the last five days, this morning, and I must say that I’m just ever so thrilled for all you lovely people who had a wonderful time with lots of wonderful family and food and presents and drinking and fun while I sat alone with my cat in my cold apartment feel sorry for myself (only a little, honestly) and watching the house not getting any cleaner. Only now, I’m feeling all that loneliness that I would have thought I would have felt this week-end and my feeling of “dissatisfaction” is growing.

Of course, I jest! I really am pleased that so many people have love and support and kindness and happiness in their lives at this time of year. I wouldn’t wish for anyone not to have it. I know from first hand experience how much it sucks. But you see, I can’t help it, it makes me sad that I don’t. Sure, I have family, but in a way, that’s worse because, well, here is the sum total of my interaction with my family this holiday…

* Called my sister to get input on gifts for her children. She didn’t answer the phone.

* Called my sister again an hour later because she didn’t return my call. She got my message, just hadn’t called back yet. The message said I was at the store and sooner, rather than later, would be best.

* On Christmas Eve, I saw the little pop-up icon telling me that my father had just signed into MSN Messenger. He didn’t actually try to talk to me (and no, I didn’t try either.)

* At 5:34 AM on Christmas day, I received text messages (pictures) from my mother to show me the eight inches of snow that had fallen on her house the night before.

* And then… Oh! No, THAT’S ALL. No cards, no calls, no gifts, no “wish you were here”’s, nothing!

This is a catch 22 situation. My family is miserable on holiday’s and I made up my mind several years ago that I was never going to spend Christmas with them again, and I honestly don’t regret that choice, it’s just that when you are absolutely and completely, 100% alone (Sorry, Mischa, you don’t count) on Christmas, it really sucks. And when you are absolutely, and completely, 100% alone (Sorry, Mischa, you still don’t count) on Christmas and reading about other people having a loving, wonderful time It sucks times a bazillion!

So let’s quickly recap. Really am not mad at any of my on-line or real world friends who had good, happy, wonderful Christmases, at all. Really am feeling sorry for myself as I lie in a bed of my own making… somewhat.

Anyway, this is another short week at work. I have nothing to do and it’s really unpleasant being here as it becomes more and more evident every day that we all hate each other and that nothing good is ever going to come of this place, but it’s what I have to do to collect that oh so wonderful, never goes far enough, paycheck at the end of the week.

Wednesday, after work, Michelle and I go to pick up a rental SUV since somebody (that’d be me) went and traded in their SUV a month ago and then on Thursday, I have another vacation day and we are heading up the mountains and spending New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day in Reno. We return on the second (Saturday) so I can see Lil’B on Sunday. Just a short jaunt there and back and I’m really looking forward too it, except that I really can’t afford it. The hotel is paid for but there’s still the price of the rental car and the gas and food for the couple of days, plus any “entertainment” money I might like to have.

This is another reason for my “dissatisfied” feelings right now. It seems every year around this time, I find myself in a financial pickle. Over committed and under funded with no way out but through and the through sucks a lot!

Well, I don’t know if this really got my creative juices flowing or not, but after 1731 words I guess I should stop ranting for today.

If you’re very, very lucky, maybe there’ll be more of the same tomorrow. And if you’re very, very lucky in a non-sarcastic way (and if I’m very, very lucky as well) maybe tomorrow will hold something better!