Leftover Snob

I'm maybe writing about this because i'm curious if i'm the only one.

There are some things in my refrigerator that need to be thrown out, but i'm hanging on to them because they're not quite disgusting enough. I'm not good with leftovers. I'm not a big fan and i usually wait for someone else to eat them. But then, sometimes they just stay there. In the refrigerator. Like forever. Sure, it happens to you too, you know it does.

But i have to leave things in the refrigerator for an undetermined amount of time before i throw it away to feel ok about it. I don't want to throw away something that is perfectly good because i feel guilty, starving children and all that. Even if i know deep down that i'm never going to touch it, it has to stay there.

Until it dies. Until it is green and furry. (Obviously these things are all in their appropriate sealed containers and not stinking up my fridge. I usually get to them before that happens. Or at least try to.) See, because these items are now unusable, I can throw them away and feel content that i did not waste food. In my head, this is perfectly logical.

Example 1:
I purchased a bunch of fresh dill-weed at the supermarket to make this chicken dish and a cucumber salad. You can only buy a whole mess of it; there is no option to take just a little, even though, really how much dill can you possibly use. So most of it is sitting in the refrigerator in its little plastic supermarket box. It will die there. I know this because i have used it to the best of my ability and i have no intentions of making any other dill-based recipes in the near future. However, i cannot on good conscious just toss the whole lot of it. That would be wrong and wasteful.

Example 2:
There has been a tuna casserole in there for about a month. It was terrible*. I made it, but couldn't eat it. I couldn't even be in the same room with it because the smell made me kind of nauseous. The Boy liked it however, so i didn't throw it out right away** He ate his portion for dinner (while i had a Lean Cuisine) and the rest went in the fridge.

And there it lies. Soon, it too, will be good enough to toss.

Example 3:
I buy bags of salad all the time. Each and every time i buy one, i envision myself enjoying the hell out of my salad and losing weight and being healthy***. However, every time i get it home, it sits in one of the refrigerator drawers and turns kind of brown. I usually get about 2 meals out of them before i won't touch it anymore. There's one in there now. It's not actually brown enough for me to throw away, but its definitely not edible by my standards.

I wonder if this somehow stems from my childhood... I'm not sure how it could be related, but you never know.



*My mother's recipe for tuna casserole calls for a can of Cream of Mushroom soup. I accidentally bought a can of Roasted Garlic-flavored cream of mushroom and didn't notice until i opened the can. The smell of it was horrific, but i Couldn't Throw it Out and used it anyway. I guess i figured the magic of Mac and Cheese would somehow change the flavor and aroma of this disgusting stuff but I was quite wrong.

**I totally would have too. It was that bad.

***The boy doesn't kid himself. He knows he doesn't like salad, and doesn't pretend to care that its healthy. I get no help from him.

On a side note:

The Boy told me the other night after reading my monday post that maybe I'm "a bit of a whiner*".




*He apologized soon after, realizing that this is my blog and basically my forum to whine and bitch as much as i want. Also that he probably shouldn't have said it in the first place. I guess that's what happens when you talk negatively about someone else's kids, eh? Yeah, they don't like it. Not even when its somewhat anonamously. Good to know.

That doesn't mean i'm going to stop.

____________________

Latest kid-news: his 7 year old son decided that he's a vegetarian.

Don't you usually wait until you're a good hormonal age - like 14 years old, to decide that kind of thing?
Not that i have anything against vegetarians, but his favorite food for years has been steak and chicken nuggets.

And i don't think he really likes vegetables.

He really doesn't like anything. Not even chocolate.

I'm at a loss here... this doesn't sound like a healthly lifestyle for a 7 year old.
Hmm...

oh, this is a good week here at the plant.

Yesterday's nugget of inspiration from the boss*:

"Failure to plan, is planning to fail".


I had to write this one down. As soon as it came out of his mouth i knew what great fodder it would be for me later on. I love it. I think i'm going to make a sign with our company logo or something.

I had written one in a comment on Fuckkit's blog the other day which was: "None of us is as smart as all of us". Which of course he feels means we should all meet together for 4 hours on each Tuesday afternoon** and dissect every little fucking thing that goes on around this place, ad naseum. Mostly is a forum for him to brainstorm for a captive and contained group of 8 people who, functionally, don't have anything to do with what he's talking about at any given time. And there's nothing we can do about it.

I've been told that this place operates like no other business that anyone has ever worked for before. Phrases like "What's up with this place?" or "Why do they do that here?" are thrown around constantly. Can be heard by simply walking down the halls.

I've been here for 6 years. I think maybe it was 4 too many.


On the upside, however, he was talking about ordering me business cards. I'll feel like a real girl, then.


Hate here.





*Starting to feel physically ill when i hear his voice now.
**Mandatory, sometimes until 7 - 7:30pm. (Bitch, whine, i know.)

Now available with e-mail!

I think they're on to me.

I just came back to my desk from wandering around outside aimlessly* and found my boss sitting at my computer. Um... what? Are you kidding? Said he had to use an online application and was not able to access it on his computer.

Wonder what he found? Maybe he noticed that I set myself up a new email account for my blog this morning.

Or maybe he saw my blog itself, whose page was minimized. Or my new email account. Whose page was also minimized. On my automatically hidden taskbar. Um, I wonder what he found? Did he read a little snippet? One can only guess considering The Passive Aggressive.

Hmm. Should be a fun day. Must remember to lock my desktop before I leave to do ANYTHING.



*Actually I was just outside the door having a cigarette. Boss also smokes so this shouldn't have sent him rummaging through my things.

The spinach and artichoke dip was outstanding.

Had a lovely weekend with The Boy. We intended to do many, many things this weekend, but didn't seem to get anything done except lie around and watch bad reality TeeVee. We did venture out in the evening hours on Friday and Saturday to have dinner and drinks (which was wonderful on Saturday - for those in the Long Island area, F.H. Riley's in Huntington? REALLY good.) I believe i just plugged a restaurant. Hmm.

This weekend was like all good single-people weekends should be: without kids. Kids just screw up everything, don't they? When i say things like that, i find myself wondering why The Boy decided to bring me into his life. He could have very easily chosen a partner who has the 'mom gene' to help take care of and enjoy his children, and yet? He didn't. He chose me. Sure, his kids aren't particularly bad, but they're kids none the less and give me the heebie-jeebies. Yes, yes they do. Sticky fingers and pizza-smears all over the kitchen table. Toothpaste crust on MY towel. And we have them every weekend but one per month. This was that one weekend.

So we made great plans to get out of the house during the sunshine hours. Maybe go for a drive, go shopping, go see a movie - anything, didn't matter. Just something we wouldn't normally do with the kids in the house. Did we do any of it? No. We didn't even vaccuum like we said we would. Just lazed around in our jammies for most of it. Dissappointing? Yeah, but i think we both needed it.

Here's to hoping i get to see sunshine again before next month.

As sad as it sounds

I also wanted you to know that it took me 4 days to finally get today's post out. 4 DAYS. And I hardly said anything at all. I haven't been at my desk for more than a half hour at a time since monday. Work is stupid.

Also, i hear my office is getting new cubicle furniture. Very low cube walls that will let everyone passing see my computer screen.

You think i post infrequently now? Ha!

I don't want you to think i'm maybe a slob is all.

Two things occurred to me after i published that last post and read it again:

1) I felt pretty bad about how i trash-talked Little Dog. So i went home on Friday and gave her a big squeeze. I think she forgives me. The Boy, maybe not so much.

2) In the picture of Big Dog, you can see the kitchen floor in my house. Yeah, go back and look at it, i dare you. Frightening, eh? Could you imagine living with and looking at something that horrific every day? No, not many can. But as you can see, i am clearly a strong person to be able to turn on the lights every morning and not scream. I swear to you it is not as dirty as it looks. It kind of has that special, permanent dirtiness that comes with crap, old linoleum. Where you can get down on your hands and knees with a scrub brush all Cinderella-style and still not receive the results you would expect. It's all scratched up and the pattern is worn off in places of high-traction. It is Permanent Ugly.

It is also embarrassing because it looks like we don't mind living this tragically dirty lifestyle.

I mind, y'all. I mind.

There is a lot of work that needs to be done to The Boy's house. Whoever (whom?) owned the house before the Boy must have thought he was some kind of carpenter/plumber/decorator, who in fact did a half-assed job on just about everything he touched. I hate it. The Boy has not gone through the headaches of fixing up the house, as apparently these things don't bother him. And why would they? The carpet is only a vile shade of pink, afterall. No bother.

Little by little i am trying to get through the list of projects entitled, "Keeping Claire in the House" or alternately titled "I Hate This NastyAss House and Sometimes it Makes Me Cry Out of Sheer Hopelessness".

Home improvements cost money, though. Lots and lots of money. Money that I don't have. Money that can very easily be dropped into a vacation fund so that The Boy and I can cruise the Caribbean. I find it hard to determine which avenue i want to go down because on one hand there is a new bathroom that i'm not embarrassed to let people use; but on the other hand, there is spending my 26th birthday in Belize City. I just don't know.

Do you know of anyone that enjoys hanging wallpaper? For beer and pizza and a hot 50 bucks? Anyone? No?

The supplies are already purchased as The Boy and I decided to try it ourselves. We failed, however and threw all of the rolls and scrapers in the closet - likely never to be seen again. Our bathroom is a horror show.

Eh.

Yes, i'm talking about my dogs again.

Whinger's post today, made me think of this.

If dogs are like "training-children", in essence a small step to get you prepared for parenthood, I know that I would be a wretched mother. Wretched. I can already tell. I would be an un-fit mother with WAY too many issues for the authorities to ignore.

Let me explain.

I love my dogs. However, it is painfully obvious that i love one more than the other. I have a favorite, and i feel tremendously guilty about it. Now, since none of you know me, i can tell you this. Little Dog makes me nuts. She has some behavior issues that crawl right under my skin and eat away at the small amount of patience i have for other living things. She is unmistakably the neediest dog i have ever met. Ever.

Let me preface the rest of this thought by telling you that i don't want children. I never have and swear to my mother and all others that i shall never change my mind.* It's just not something i want in my life. I'm not especially fond of other people's children and I can't imagine that I will become one of those women who find their "clock" ticking when they see children at play or whatever, at whatever age it's supposed to tick. I just don't get it.

So keeping this kid-thing in mind, having two dogs that depend on me for their well-being is a little unsettling. I must not have enjoyed my independence when i had it, apparently, because i decided to move in with my boyfriend 2 years ago who has two kids and (at the time) one dog. (His kids will be a story for another time; that ought to be at least 5 posts worth of rant).

His resident one dog, was Little Dog**. When i met Little Dog, i chalked her nervous energy up to being uncomfortable with strangers and figured she would calm down after a little while. But she never did. Little Dog doesn't know how to relax and doesn't know how to let a single whim pass without acting on it. Everyone knows people like this; I tend not to associate with them by choice because they annoy the crap out of me.

Now i live with one.

A) She is a very smart dog, however, and learns commands quickly and tends to perform them only for the approval of her people. Treats are not necessary, she does it because she can wants to make us happy. This, is great for us - but terribly sad, i think - kind of like a battered wife***. B) This same mentality is likely what caused her Submissive Urination problem for the first 2+ years of her life***. Looking Little Dog in the eye was a no-no, because it generally made her uncomfortable. I learned how to read her mind eventually just to be able to live with her without having her cower and pee all over the floor All The Time.
C) When she is in the backyard and the neighbor-dog is out, Little Dog leaps along the fence, barking and growling all the way at neighbor-dog for no good reason i can see. The neighbors have told me that seeing her head bobbing up and down along the 6 ft. fence is quite funny, but drives me to screaming fits. It makes me crazy.

And add this to countless other annoying gems that i won't bore you with for now. Maybe later.

But then there's Big Dog. We found Big Dog**** at the North Shore Animal League last March when she was only 7 months old. It was love at first sight. Poor thing was already 85 lbs and really pathetic looking. Her time behind bars had made her immune to meeting new people and was just lying there on her cage floor when we found her. But now, she is just the happiest dog ever. Loves everyone and everything and is always excited and sweet.

Big Dog is my love. And i'm ashamed of myself, because i think Little Dog knows. I try to hide my favoritism and show the little one as much affection, but i think she knows its not the same. The thing about Big Dog is that she's absolutely dumb as a stump, and just as stubborn. And it is because she's so dumb that it makes her completely innocent. Nothing she does ever seems to be on purpose, so its very easy to forgive her when she's doing something wrong. Which is often. You just can't help but forgive her after she's eaten the bathroom carpet, knocked you into a wall or eaten the stuffing out of the couch cushions.




Because she looks at you like this.
How can you not love this face??














*"But you're still young. You'll change your mind, you'll see" is the most common answer I hear when i tell people i don't want kids. I seriously think i was born without that gene.
**Name is Stella and is a PitBull mix. Named for the fun it would produce to call her name from far distances. Try it for yourself. Get it? Yeah.
***She was not, in fact, abused as a puppy. More like spoiled-rotten by The Boy.
****Name is Millie and is a St.Bernard. She came with it from the shelter - we decided to keep it as we liked the idea of having dogs that sounded like two little old ladies in the house. I don't know why. We thought of changing her name to Norma after a little while, but decided that it would be way to hard and didn't bother.

Happy little worker-bee.

Boss is getting to me today.

I'm finding out more and more what an obnoxious, passive-aggressive, bastard he can be sometimes. We have these instances where he decides one day that i'm in fact, not his best friend*, and finds ways to push buttons in order to get me rightly pissed off. It's not hard, admittedly, to get me to that point. All you have to do is critique my work ethic** and maybe tell me in a subtle, round-about way that my work is crap, and i'm pretty much a seething waste of space for the rest of the day.

I have done nothing since about 12:30 today. Because, I know that my special brand of Spite is always effective.

I have, in fact, caught up on reading all of my blogs, read some new blogs, gone shopping at B&N, rearranged all of the papers on my desk and e-mailed a bunch of people i haven't spoken to in ages. Also, took this quiz which helped me to realize that i'm certainly going to hell and that i still hate the christian fundamentalists. But who doesn't, really.

Boss has a unique ability to set people up for failure and then tell you what a shmuck you really are. IE: The morning after a snow storm, the building staff is supposed to come in to work at 5:30am, followed by office staff (including me) in the office 1/2 an hour earlier than our regular start time. Fine.

The last snow we had was during the day and stopped before close of business. Workers cleaned up the sidewalks and parking lots before they left; all was fine. The next morning, 2 people showed at 5:30 and the entire staff got called together to be shamed like children. Since everything was done the day before, no one considered having to come in early and consequently, we were all wrong.

Now the easiest thing Boss could have done was tell his staff that he expected to see them at 5:30 in the morning. My interpretation is that he actually chose NOT to, to see who would show up on their own. Why? Why would you do that? This is not a group of self-starters. If they were, perhaps they would not be janitorial staff. No offense of course - I work with these people. I know that most*** of them are not reaching for the stars. It just happens to go with the job description sometimes.

In conclusion, Boss is being a total wretch today and I'm dealing in my own way:
Spitefully: not bettering myself in a manner that he would find pleasing.

Choke on that, bitch.






*As if.
**Which is, of course, superior to most.
***In all fairness, there are a few who are going to school part time or working two jobs.

Things are getting harder / 2nd title: This is probably only interesting to me.

School sucks.

After high school, I found myself going to a university that I didn't want to be attending. I had originally had my heart set on a Marine Science career* and attending school in the Hamptons on the east end of Long Island. This, unfortunately, was not to be as I had what they call "No Money". I was not eligible for financial aid and mom didn't make enough to be able to pay for me to go to a private college. She decided that student loans were not an option because she didn't feel like the career I had chosen would ever allow me to pay off the loans after I graduated. Her answer to my pleading: "We don't always get to do what we want". Nice.

So I lived at home and commuted to my nearby state university (SUNY Stony Brook, if you must know) and I hated it. HATED it. Perhaps as a form of rebelliousness or perhaps because of a guy** I never went to class, never did any work and promptly was put on academic probation and withdrew from the university after 3 semesters. With a Cumulative GPA of 0.67. Yes. I. Did.

I wasted my mother's money (which is still a topic of conversation today) and threw away my education because I couldn't get my ass out of bed on a daily basis. During this period of my life, I didn't do much but sleep until 4 pm, get up and go to above mentioned guy's apartment, pine, and go home before sunrise only to do it all over again the next day. Sometimes i worked, but for the most part I slept a lot, really. There was, in fact, one day that I never saw because I slept right on through it. Depression can be an interesting thing.

Eventually I got my first full-time job*** and became a stable, useful adult. This made mom happier, though upset for me since she knew that eventually I would totally and utterly regret what a mess I made of myself. In 2002, I decided to go back to school part-time for my Associates to start, as I knew that if I stayed away from school for much longer, I would never, ever go back. (Because my life had been so terribly glamorous up to that point, obviously.) And I can't afford to NOT go to school because I have no skills except for what I've learned at this crap job which seems to be highly specialized, and perhaps only useful here at this company. (And I am not going to be here for the rest of my life, thank-you-very-much).

Fast forward to last monday night, as i'm standing in line at the registrar on campus. I am actually standing in line to withdraw from a class. After all the shit that i'd been through with doing badly in school, I was so disappointed in myself for actually going through with this. I am only taking 2 classes a semester at night and for some reason, I can't work through one of my classes. Funnily enough, Linear Algebra is just too hard. For a Liberal Arts major. That has only taken Statistics I. There is no extra-help helpful enough to give me a good grade for this class.

I spent the weekend before debating with myself over whether or not to go through with withdrawing from this class. It seems like it shouldn't have been such a life or death situation, but considering my history, I was really worried how it was going to reflect on my transcript. On the other hand, I have a GPA of 3.9**** which means that failing or scoring badly in this (impossible) class would destroy my GPA which is just way too high to throw away. People want to give me money to go for my Bachelors. Give ME money to go for more school. I'm in Phi Theta Kappa and everything. It just sounds like such a cop-out for me to say that i'm dropping a hard class because I don't feel like I can work hard enough to salvage my GPA. Ugh.

But I did it. I dropped it. There's going to be a big ugly "W" on my transcript, and i didn't get my tuition back but I don't care. You know why? Because its easier, dammit. And i'm going to have Monday nights free until the end of the semester.

Except of course now I won't be graduating in August like I had planned. I'll have 3 classes left now until I can graduate, so i'll have to wait until December.

Crappers.


*What can I say? I love the fishies.
**Right. It's ALWAYS because of a guy. There is no doubt that if I wasn't so retarded over this guy who never gave me the satisfaction of committing to me, that I would have gotten my shit together. I was so stupid. And where is he now? Maryland. Yeah. He ran away to Maryland.
***Um, and last. I'm still here. I'm still in the same job 6 years later. Wheeeeeee.
****That damn B ruined everything. I am still furious with my Freshman Composition instructor for that.

so much for that, then

i started writing a post today at work and found that work was actually getting in the way again. I hate it when that happens. It's just so intrusive.

Long post to come soon. I just didn't want anyone to be left hanging. I know how much all 3 of you look forward to reading.

That's it, i'm going to Home Depot.

I got nothing

I don't know how you guys manage to write something interesting and poignant every day. I just don't have the focus or dedication, apparently.

I'll get to this tomorrow, i promise.

I'm not really much of a feminist, i swear. Well, not *really*.

Got this in the ol' e-mail today.
I received this picture in an email before, as i'm sure many of you have. But today i'm in just the mood to dissect the crap out of it.


Click for bigger / hopefully readable.

Being the ripe old age of 25, i've never had to live with this view of women. My mother, grandmother, even great-grandmother were all too "modern" to fit this stereotypical wife guide, as they were all productive members of their households and society. My great-grandmother, whom i wish lived long enough for me to meet, supposedly was the first woman on their block to go out to work in the factories during WWII when all of the boys were away overseas; even rallying the neighboring wives and mothers to join her in doing their part. Go, Great-Grandma. A fine example of girl-power in my family.

This article from a 1955 women's magazine is just so foreign to me, yet i find it fascinating. Were the majority of women really like this? I mean, you see it in all of the "Make Room for Daddy" and "Leave it to Beaver" reruns. But weren't those shows just basically propaganda at the time? They were trying to promote this standard for perfect families / women in the home, but did that crap really translate? Was my family really so different than the norm? I can't imagine what it was like to live in a time like this, as a capable, intelligent adult and be treated like a simple child.

The 19th amendment (women's suffrage) was ratified in 1920, however, the mentality of women as lesser people was still the norm in 1955, thirty-five years later (obviously). This was normal! WTF?

So now, my question is: If i lived during this time and was expected to live my life and treat The Boy as outlined in the above article, would I mind? Would i enjoy living like this? Would I FREAKING KNOW ANY BETTER???etc.

Who knows. I could quite probably be so used to living my life like this that the servitude and complete lack of self-worth would be totally normal and comfortable to me. I would make a roast turkey on tuesdays, clean the house every day of the week, get excited about the thought of bearing and raising children, fetch the newspaper and a pipe for my hubby-

Oh wait, i'm not married yet. In fact, i'm currently living in sin, aren't i.

Disaster averted, then.