It's been awhile. I've been thinking about this blogging thing a lot lately. I read some excellent blogs on a daily basis, truly brilliant. These people sit down and craft a post and even on not-so-great days they are more interesting and funnier than I have ever been on this blog. Maybe I shouldn't be comparing my blog to their (infinitely more successful) blogs, after all, I don't have the readership they do, which is surely a motivation to construct something worthwhile. I also don't have the comments they do. I don't care who you are - if you blog, you care about comments. When you don't get any you feel like you're having a conversation with yourself, which isn't very fulfilling when it happens on a regular basis. I know I shouldn't gauge the success of my blog by the number of comments, but I can't help it. I see the 3,000+ hits this blog has received and wonder where the fuck the comments are - then again, more popular blogs receive that same number of hits every hour. I also know I'm skipping down the wrong path if I think this blog is going to gain any sort of "success" with the type of shit I post on a regular basis.
I started this with the hopes it would give me a great creative outlet, but mostly I find myself blabbering about stupid shit - at best, reminiscent of a diary entry. At worst, a spewing of random thoughts that are very...base. I also wanted this blog to bring me fame and fortune. Oh, you think it doesn't happen? You don't read enough blogs. Certain bloggers really do live off the income from advertisements and have job offers and media interviews practically thrown at them. I thought I could display oodles of wit and type up some lovely, well-crafted pieces about, you know, life and shit, things that would make you go hmmm. Turns out I have absolutely no motivation or discipline. Not the kind it takes to make writing a profession, or even a hobby that might take me "somewhere." Sure, I still want to write a book (I WILL, DAMNIT!) but it will happen when it should, when I have something to say. Something more than "Look! I got a dog! How grown-up of me!"
I'm not going to close down Gab Lab just yet, I'll keep it around in case the mood strikes, and I'm sure it will quite randomly. I guess I'm just disappointed by my own efforts, and how even when I wrote some seriously heart-felt entries, I got nary a comment. Perhaps I shouldn't care so much, but I do. I know you are reading. I am talking to you. It's a conversation with friends. Maybe that's my problem. I should be considering it a conversation with myself, for myself. Period. But I'm a social creature. I want interaction with my bestest friends who are, not coincidentally, my only readers. (I think. There's someone in Ohio that stops by a lot. Hi, whoever you are!)
I'll leave you with an update, if for no other reason than I'm giving myself some closure:
I was offered a job yesterday. Should various background checks and drug tests be passed, I'll be working at a coffee distribution company (I don't want to mention the name, but you'd recognize it) that is five short and easy minutes from home. When I went in for my first interview I fell in love with the place. Not only was their lobby decorated with the same Cyclamen plants we have at home, the entire office has dark hardwood floors - so inviting and homey. There are sofas scattered about, lovely well-worn rugs in the halls, and a ridiculously well-stocked breakroom. We're talking a wall of coffee, which includes a massive section of delicious mix-ins like "chocolate marshmallow" and "kreamy kahlua." There's even a coffee shop-grade espresso machine for us to use. Too bad I can only drink decaf. I mean, really. POOR. ME.
The puppy is great, though last night we had to take him to the animal hospital. After a walk and a nap last night, nothing seemed amiss. But then I walked into the kitchen and turned around to see Avery walking towards me completely uncoordinated, like he was drunk. He could barely stand up. His head was wobbling around like Muhammed Ali. He tried to run and fell. Micah thought we should wait it out, he probably ate something untoward or lapped up some of my wine when I wasn't looking. But I couldn't stand to see him like that, I was really worried - I mean, how do we know it's not fatal, whatever it is? Micah put him on the couch and Avery got really sleepy, except his eyes were rolling back and his tongue was hanging out. I thought surely he was dying. I called the animal hospital and they said bring him in right away. So we raced him over to the hospital and the doctor's opinion was that he ate something bad, which is not surprising at all. I monitor him as much as I can, but the little dude has become very sneaky about picking things up in his mouth. He knows I take everything unapproved away from him, so he gulps things down without chewing. He could've licked some antifreeze off the ground. He could've found a chocolate bar. Don't know, never will, and I feel terrible about it. At the hospital they made him throw up repeatedly and gave him fluids and a dose of charcoal. I feared the bill - animal hospitals are notoriously expensive, just like going to the ER - but was pleasantly surprised that they got my puppy back in fine form for a mere $137. I had visions of a surgery for thousands of dollars because the little shit ate some glass or something. Not so. I am delighted to report that this morning Avery was back to his hyper, chew-oriented self, entirely happy about snarfing down food and chasing cats.
Well, I guess this is where I stop talking and officially take my blog break. With my boss retiring in four weeks and me leaving here in two weeks...let's just say I have A LOT to do. Hundreds of files need to be sent to other locations. Hundreds of office supplies need to be ordered for the people who will still be here. I will probably do more in the next two weeks than I have done in the 14 months I've been here.
See you around.
-Gabby
1.25.2007
1.17.2007
handful of nothings
- whatever dramatic crap I discussed in the last post has fallen by the wayside. Micah is fine. He loves the puppy, finally, and admitted that he didn't have the right attitude about it when Avery first came home. I worry because when the weather is bad/too cold Micah doesn't work, and if he's home with the puppy he'll have to take care of the puppy, and I know part of the reason Micah cottoned to Avery is that I do all the walking. ALL. I don't mind at all, but when I leave and Micah doesn't that means he has to do what I normally do. He doesn't really have a choice. The puppy demands attention. Until he gets tired, that is, and then he is all too happy to put his chin on your thigh and fall asleep. He also doesn't mind being put in his crate (for the most part) which is a godsend when we just can't take another tooth to the flesh.
- I am a total control freak. What, you didn't know? I don't like the idea of Micah treating Avery's transgressions in a different way than I would. I don't like how he refuses to snap at the dog to put him in his place. Turns out the initial Cesar Milan attitude Micah had was just a front. He is a total pushover. I am the bitchy beast mom who makes him "DROP!" everything that might be slightly fun to chew on. I am the one who yelps loudly when he bites too hard. I encourage Micah to be mean - oh stop, I don't mean mean mean - because it will help the puppy know his boundaries and he'll grow up a more well behaved dog.
- good lord, my puppy is cute. Sosososo cute. My favorite cutenesses: when he walks around the apartment with something in his mouth and his tail and butt just wagwagwaggin', looking for a place to settle down; when he instantly calms down when I rub and scratch his tummy; when it's obvious he wants nothing more than to be on my lap; when he runs like a madman through the apartment for no fucking reason. So basically, all the time. He is cute all the fucking time.
- but holy FUCK, his teeth are sharp.
- 24 has begun again. What do you think? My initial reaction was "eh." I suppose it takes a few hours to get into the swing of the plot, but I have to say this whole terrorism theme is getting old. But when I thought about what else they could do I couldn't think of anything except presidential assasination, and how long could they really carry that out? The third and fourth hours were more enjoyable than the first and second and I know I'll keep watching, but I was prepared to be wowed and wasn't.
- That Sasha Baron Cohen is muy hot when not in his Borat get-up, yes?
- YES.
- So as I said earlier, Avery is teething. (I'm sorry I'm back to the puppy. You try getting a puppy and not talking about it every effing second.) He chews on everything. When I take him on walks he constantly grabs at things on the ground to carry. He doesn't chew when walking, just carries. Ketchup packets. Crumpled Jell-O cups. Doritos bags. NASTY. I don't want him all up in that stuff. Do you think he might have an oral fixation beyond the teething? After I snatch the contraband from his mouth he seriously can't walk five feet without picking up something else. I don't care about sticks and pine cones. Perhaps that's part of the problem - I let him carry natural stuff but not the trash - I doubt he knows the difference no matter how smart I think he is.
- Three job interviews scheduled, one completed. One that I really, really want. The first contact from this company came in the form of a phone call which was partly chatty but mostly bidness. The woman called me the next day to set up an interview, and when I went in there this morning the conversation was 80% chatty 20% bidness. Is that a good thing? Does that mean she's confident in my skills just from reading my history? Cross your fingers/say a prayer/juju hex the other candidates - whatever works. Thanks.
- If I get one more email about a Sales position from some random recruiter who's been trolling the web for sad folks without jobs! Ugh! It's so impersonal.
- Am I justified in being choosy about where these jobs are located? I'm very much opposed to driving more than 20 minutes to work, which is what I do now. It's bearable because I am always going the opposite direction of traffic. Most of the positions I've seen are in west county, which would take me at least 25 minutes, maybe more. I'm not down with that. Chicago traumatized me as far as the commuting goes.
- I actually applied to a company where my dad worked for at least ten years. Crazy.
- I miss my husband and my dog. MY DOG! What a sweet phrase! I want to be cuddled with them in bed right now. I miss my cats, who definitely miss me too. They stare at me from across the room as if to say "You skank whore, what is your major malfunction? We hate him." I feel so evil. It's like the cats don't exist anymore. I try to tell myself that things will be different when Avery's not a puppy anymore and doesn't need so much attention. I hope that's true. I try to make time for the cats but it's usually a few precious seconds until Avery comes bounding in and launches himself into my lap, launching the cats back to their respective high ground areas. There are small steps forward everyday, though - one cat likes to sniff around Avery when he's securely contained in his crate, and the other cat actually came within a foot of me when Avery was on my lap. Baby steps.
- I don't think I'm entertaining anyone but myself at this point. Off to my crossword puzzle.
- I am a total control freak. What, you didn't know? I don't like the idea of Micah treating Avery's transgressions in a different way than I would. I don't like how he refuses to snap at the dog to put him in his place. Turns out the initial Cesar Milan attitude Micah had was just a front. He is a total pushover. I am the bitchy beast mom who makes him "DROP!" everything that might be slightly fun to chew on. I am the one who yelps loudly when he bites too hard. I encourage Micah to be mean - oh stop, I don't mean mean mean - because it will help the puppy know his boundaries and he'll grow up a more well behaved dog.
- good lord, my puppy is cute. Sosososo cute. My favorite cutenesses: when he walks around the apartment with something in his mouth and his tail and butt just wagwagwaggin', looking for a place to settle down; when he instantly calms down when I rub and scratch his tummy; when it's obvious he wants nothing more than to be on my lap; when he runs like a madman through the apartment for no fucking reason. So basically, all the time. He is cute all the fucking time.
- but holy FUCK, his teeth are sharp.
- 24 has begun again. What do you think? My initial reaction was "eh." I suppose it takes a few hours to get into the swing of the plot, but I have to say this whole terrorism theme is getting old. But when I thought about what else they could do I couldn't think of anything except presidential assasination, and how long could they really carry that out? The third and fourth hours were more enjoyable than the first and second and I know I'll keep watching, but I was prepared to be wowed and wasn't.
- That Sasha Baron Cohen is muy hot when not in his Borat get-up, yes?
- YES.
- So as I said earlier, Avery is teething. (I'm sorry I'm back to the puppy. You try getting a puppy and not talking about it every effing second.) He chews on everything. When I take him on walks he constantly grabs at things on the ground to carry. He doesn't chew when walking, just carries. Ketchup packets. Crumpled Jell-O cups. Doritos bags. NASTY. I don't want him all up in that stuff. Do you think he might have an oral fixation beyond the teething? After I snatch the contraband from his mouth he seriously can't walk five feet without picking up something else. I don't care about sticks and pine cones. Perhaps that's part of the problem - I let him carry natural stuff but not the trash - I doubt he knows the difference no matter how smart I think he is.
- Three job interviews scheduled, one completed. One that I really, really want. The first contact from this company came in the form of a phone call which was partly chatty but mostly bidness. The woman called me the next day to set up an interview, and when I went in there this morning the conversation was 80% chatty 20% bidness. Is that a good thing? Does that mean she's confident in my skills just from reading my history? Cross your fingers/say a prayer/juju hex the other candidates - whatever works. Thanks.
- If I get one more email about a Sales position from some random recruiter who's been trolling the web for sad folks without jobs! Ugh! It's so impersonal.
- Am I justified in being choosy about where these jobs are located? I'm very much opposed to driving more than 20 minutes to work, which is what I do now. It's bearable because I am always going the opposite direction of traffic. Most of the positions I've seen are in west county, which would take me at least 25 minutes, maybe more. I'm not down with that. Chicago traumatized me as far as the commuting goes.
- I actually applied to a company where my dad worked for at least ten years. Crazy.
- I miss my husband and my dog. MY DOG! What a sweet phrase! I want to be cuddled with them in bed right now. I miss my cats, who definitely miss me too. They stare at me from across the room as if to say "You skank whore, what is your major malfunction? We hate him." I feel so evil. It's like the cats don't exist anymore. I try to tell myself that things will be different when Avery's not a puppy anymore and doesn't need so much attention. I hope that's true. I try to make time for the cats but it's usually a few precious seconds until Avery comes bounding in and launches himself into my lap, launching the cats back to their respective high ground areas. There are small steps forward everyday, though - one cat likes to sniff around Avery when he's securely contained in his crate, and the other cat actually came within a foot of me when Avery was on my lap. Baby steps.
- I don't think I'm entertaining anyone but myself at this point. Off to my crossword puzzle.
1.09.2007
introducing...
Avery!We got a puppy. Well, I got a puppy. Micah simply gave in. YESSSS.
My life is now complete, thank you very much!
What I know about him:
He was rescued from an abandoned house in Memphis. His brother and sister died of pneumonia. He was basically in a foster home situation when I found out about him on craigslist. I looked at this picture all weekend, then I looked at it all day yesterday while I was looking for a new job online (yes, I have to find a new job, ugh). I went to the ATM at lunch knowing he might be mine later in the day and maybe I should be prepared. When I arrived home, I started the process of convincing Micah we need a puppy. He knew it was coming, I'd been dreamy-eyed all weekend.
All Micah sees is the work involved in having a puppy. Of course, I laid it on pretty thick about how I'd clean up any messes and take the puppy out all the time. Part of the reason I wanted a dog is to have something to motivate me to walk a lot, so I need to teach Avery about the Leash concept, which he really resisted last night but accepted more this morning when I took him around the building to the back yard. At his foster home he was just let out the back door. Here on the second floor, it ain't gonna be that easy. But it's okay. I need to move more.The vet thinks Avery is some kind of shepherd and border collie mix. His coat is very soft, and he has these lovely brown spots on his legs, which looks very border collie-ish. I think he's pretty smart - at 3 months he (basically) knows how to sit and that it's better to release fluids outside. That said, he peed once and pooed once inside. But! He pooed outside as well! Because I was very, very patient. When that anemic little turd finally arrived you'd have thought he shat diamonds, such was my glee. (It should be noted that the dog is not anemic. What I was trying to tell you is that the poo was so small it was almost not a poo.)
I changed his name, do you think that's ok? They called him Nicholas before...which...not only is that name shared by two of my cousins...it's not really a dog name. I think he's getting it, though. "Avery" is the only thing I say to him other than "outside?" and "go potty!" Oh, and maybe "YOU ARE SO!! CUTE!!"
I'm worried about how quickly he snarfs down food. I feel like he's starving! I did a lil research and they suggest feeding him on a cookie sheet. How smart is that? Love the internet!
I'm not going to disclose how much I spent at PetSmart on my way to pick him up. All I can say is that place is making serious bank. I bet they make most of their money from schmucky first timers like me who don't know whether to use a collar or harness - buy both! - and have no clue what type of chew-approved object will be the tastiest for a teething puppy - give him options! Turns out he has an appetite for yummy chubby Gabby fingers, which are totally free.
I'm going all Cesar Milan on Avery's ass. Micah, in fact, is determined to implement everylastlittletechnique so that the puppy knows its place. Frankly, I could stand a little more positive energy coming from Micah. He wants the puppy to sit stoicly. A puppy! As if! I WILL PLAY WITH MY PUPPY, Mr. Buzzkill!
Anyway, Avery is pretty much a little gem. He's very curious about the cats and attempted to chase one across the room, which upset me a little because my cats already think I done gone crazy with this dog business. I put a Cesar Milan move on him and he immediately stopped. There is totally a good dog in that puppy's body.
I am so excited!!!!
Now if I could just get the rest of the household on board.
*updated to add: Household is officially on board. There was much Micah/Avery canoodling going on last night. AND this morning! And I didn't get yelled at for putting Avery on our bed!
1.05.2007
the slowest friday on record
things that are bothering me RIGHT NOW:
my chair at work is entirely too squeaky. it's getting worse. i try not to move at all.
hey, Other Receptionist-type? you've been working here for over ten years and you STILL don't know that you have to hold down the flusher on the toilet for, like, thirty seconds in order to fully eliminate what you just put in there? i learned that on day two. get with it.
whyyyyy do they order five pizzas and then leave them out all afternoon in my direct smell-path? thin crust, at that. so hard not to eat all damn day.
why won't donald trump shut the fuck up already?
to the professor at school that opted to use a 300+ page "e-book" for class: fuck off. i can't not print it out, i'm a page-marker.
my boss finally announced his retirement via email. i have no idea where this leaves me, because the new manager is taking half of his customers but works out of kansas city. i'm hoping since he hasn't had any serious talks with me about my future here that i'm okay, but...you never know. ever.
things that i'm excited about RIGHT NOW:
aren't there like a gazillion shows starting in the next two weeks? the l word, 24, american idol, that grease-casting show...oh happiness, i find you in the tv more than i should.
there's a bottle of champagne in our fridge leftover from new year's and i'm just dyin' to break into that mutha. 'cept someone else has to open it because i'm skurred.
mmm pomegranate body lotion. you smell nothing like pomegranate, but you are tasty and remind me of christmas.
game night! when is it NOT a game night?
shufflefuck tomorrow night! ok, that's not what it's called, but you know...salt ball?...that slidey game in bars?...right. so so good.
only one hour left. give me patience. then get me home because i think i just booty-called my husband.
my chair at work is entirely too squeaky. it's getting worse. i try not to move at all.
hey, Other Receptionist-type? you've been working here for over ten years and you STILL don't know that you have to hold down the flusher on the toilet for, like, thirty seconds in order to fully eliminate what you just put in there? i learned that on day two. get with it.
whyyyyy do they order five pizzas and then leave them out all afternoon in my direct smell-path? thin crust, at that. so hard not to eat all damn day.
why won't donald trump shut the fuck up already?
to the professor at school that opted to use a 300+ page "e-book" for class: fuck off. i can't not print it out, i'm a page-marker.
my boss finally announced his retirement via email. i have no idea where this leaves me, because the new manager is taking half of his customers but works out of kansas city. i'm hoping since he hasn't had any serious talks with me about my future here that i'm okay, but...you never know. ever.
things that i'm excited about RIGHT NOW:
aren't there like a gazillion shows starting in the next two weeks? the l word, 24, american idol, that grease-casting show...oh happiness, i find you in the tv more than i should.
there's a bottle of champagne in our fridge leftover from new year's and i'm just dyin' to break into that mutha. 'cept someone else has to open it because i'm skurred.
mmm pomegranate body lotion. you smell nothing like pomegranate, but you are tasty and remind me of christmas.
game night! when is it NOT a game night?
shufflefuck tomorrow night! ok, that's not what it's called, but you know...salt ball?...that slidey game in bars?...right. so so good.
only one hour left. give me patience. then get me home because i think i just booty-called my husband.
1.04.2007
oh right, i have a blog
Sometimes I just have nothing to feed it.
I just found out that my boss is retiring March 1, but not from my boss, which is interesting. I guess I'm the last to know. I wonder when he'll tell me. I know I often complain that I do nothing at work, but the truth is if I suddenly got really busy I'd be pissed about it. The tiny workload is perfect for being a student and a certifiably obsessed blog reader. If they hire some young hot shot manager with all kinds of ideas about how to change office dynamics or actually utilize a few of my talents, I'm going to shit. Or quit.
The New Year is starting very slowly. I got sick two days before we were supposed to throw a New Year's Eve party. It still happened, and it was still fun, but I was extremely disappointed. I didn't feel like drinking at all. I'm afraid my lack of energy had a negative affect on the party. I didn't make pizza as promised. I didn't make Pomegranate martinis as promised. I was glad other people got tired and ended the party before midnight, glad my friends don't judge their own coolness by how hard they party on the night when partying should be hard. I didn't even get out my chair to say goodbye. I'm sorry.
I just started classes for my new major, Communications. I think overall the classes will be more enjoyable than they were in I.T., but what I'm realizing is that in technical courses there is simply less work. The concepts are harder so they don't overload you. In fluff majors like Communications it's all busy work, because the concepts being taught are the opposite of rocket science. I can handle it, but I'm scared about correct MLA format and the dreaded "group project."
God, how boring. I guess they can't all shoot out of the gate like 2006 did.
I just found out that my boss is retiring March 1, but not from my boss, which is interesting. I guess I'm the last to know. I wonder when he'll tell me. I know I often complain that I do nothing at work, but the truth is if I suddenly got really busy I'd be pissed about it. The tiny workload is perfect for being a student and a certifiably obsessed blog reader. If they hire some young hot shot manager with all kinds of ideas about how to change office dynamics or actually utilize a few of my talents, I'm going to shit. Or quit.
The New Year is starting very slowly. I got sick two days before we were supposed to throw a New Year's Eve party. It still happened, and it was still fun, but I was extremely disappointed. I didn't feel like drinking at all. I'm afraid my lack of energy had a negative affect on the party. I didn't make pizza as promised. I didn't make Pomegranate martinis as promised. I was glad other people got tired and ended the party before midnight, glad my friends don't judge their own coolness by how hard they party on the night when partying should be hard. I didn't even get out my chair to say goodbye. I'm sorry.
I just started classes for my new major, Communications. I think overall the classes will be more enjoyable than they were in I.T., but what I'm realizing is that in technical courses there is simply less work. The concepts are harder so they don't overload you. In fluff majors like Communications it's all busy work, because the concepts being taught are the opposite of rocket science. I can handle it, but I'm scared about correct MLA format and the dreaded "group project."
God, how boring. I guess they can't all shoot out of the gate like 2006 did.
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