Pee-rivacy

"The only time the world beats a path to your door is if you're in the bathroom." ~ Anonymous

Some days you wake up and you think the day is going to be awesome. Other days you wake up, step in cat vomit, and just know that it's only going downhill from there.

I was supposed to meet J for lunch at noon. When 12:20 rolled around and I was STILL stuck in my meeting, I texted him under the desk and told him to go ahead and order. Fifteen minutes later I drove like a banshee to the sandwich shop, only to find him still in line.

I motioned to him that I was going to make a pit stop and made my way through the crowded tables to the restroom. Now, instead of having a separate hall leading to the bathrooms, this place had a single men's door and a single women's door, right off the dining area. I knocked, entered and locked the door.

Sitting peacefully and wondering why I drank three sodas and a bottle of water this morning, the heavy door flew open. An older blonde lady -- apparently even more surprised than I was -- screamed bloody murder, causing everyone in the sub shop to look in our direction. Like a deer in headlights, I froze. After what seemed like an eternity, the door slammed shut.

Mortified, I finished my business, washed my hands and silently hoped a window would appear so that I could crawl my way out. No such luck. I opened the door to find the lady there. "Sweetie! I'm sorry but you should have locked the door!". I warned her that is was broken, as every eye in the place was stuck in our direction.

Even though it was colder than hell, I made J sit outside. Of course, he couldn't stop laughing. "It could have been worse", he joked, "at least you weren't taking a dump."

Way to see the positive, J.

My Big Mouth

Getty didn't call.

And I should have left it alone ... but didn't. I sent him a text late Tuesday night, "Glad I didn't hold my breath". Why? I'm not sure. Maybe I was upset because I reached out and he took it to the level of wanting to call. Maybe I just hate being blown off.

Two in the morning I get a reply. "I'm sooo sorry. Can I call u now?"

Are you kidding? I told him I was asleep, that I'd talk to him later. He called twice yesterday, though I didn't answer. I'll call him back today, though now I'm kind of over the whole thing.

Just wanted my friend back, not all the drama that I can foresee coming with it.

Lighter post tomorrow, I promise :).

Hump Day

"The only thing wrong with doing nothing is that you never know when you're finished." ~ Author Unknown

Maybe because it's Hump Day, but I have the F-its weighing me down heavily. Soo much to get done, soo little care to do it. Think instead I'll turn my "To Do" list into my "I Don't Want To" list ... at least until tomorrow.

1. Clean the litter box
2. Fold laundry
3. Run
4. Finish my presentation for work
5. Bathe the dogs
6. Pay the mortgage
7. Schedule a dentist appointment
8. Call the water sprinkler repair guy
9. Shower

Hope you guys have more motivation today than I do!

Why Dell Is Dead to Me

So this blog is starting to aggravate me a smidge.  Seems I can't get the background off completely, so -- for now -- I suppose it'll remain a hodgepodge of stuff.  Not that I update this thing much anymore, anyway.  But hopefully that'll change now that I have a new, more reliable computer.

You may remember the "Dear John" letter I wrote to my Dell awhile back.  Well, after losing EVERYTHING -- work, photos, music -- on it a few weeks ago, I lost my mind.  I called Dell to no avail.  They treated me like complete pond scum since my warranty had already expired.  The guy said I had to pay $129 to be transferred to technical support.  I said this has been an on-going issue that has never been resolved over the million times I called while it was under warranty, and that I didn't feel like I should have to pay.  He was a dick.  "I get callers like you all the time who don't want to pay."  I couldn't believe he said that to me. I explained that I didn't mind paying once the computer was fixed.  He was rude and obnoxious.  I asked to speak to his manager.  He freaked and said he didn't have the authority to transfer me and that I had to pay him right now or he would hang up.  I lost it.  Words flew out of my mouth before I knew what I was even saying.  By the time I hung up, I was shaking.  And my computer was still broken.

An hour later I called back.  Thankfully I got another guy who said he could knock it down to 50 bucks.  Twenty minutes later, I gave up and coughed up the $50 just so I could talk to technical support.  After three freakin' hours on the phone with India, we came to the conclusion that: (a) I was sold a 1GB memory when it takes 2GB just to run Vista alone, (b) a driver on my computer was corrupted from the time I took it out of the box.  

Why they didn't discover either of these while my computer was still under warranty is a little fishy yet not surprising.  The guy tried to reinstall the driver directly from Dell's site, yet it wasn't compatible.  Then he laughed, said there was nothing else he could do, and referred me to someone else.  He said if the next guy couldn't fix it, then I could send my computer in and pay to have it redone.  I was beyond livid and to the point of tears.  I was already behind at work because my Dell kept crashing, then I lost it all anyway and had to restart all my stupid projects.  Just to have it crash AGAIN and lose it all once more.

I politely thanked him for his "help", said I wasn't about to sink another freakin' dime into Dell, hung up and grabbed my car keys.  My palms were sweaty as I gripped the steering wheel, driving 15 miles too fast down the tollway.  I whipped into the Willowbend mall parking lot.  The store clerks at Neimans took a step back as I hurriedly walked past them, my hands balled into fists at my side.  

And there is was, the dim glow of the Apple store.  I didn't hesitate as I walked in.  Five minutes later, a young guy in an azure blue t-shirt and Puma sneakers was mending the pieces of my lost mind.  It was soooo refreshing to talk to someone who was passionate about the product.  Who actually listened to what I was saying.  Who didn't try to sell me things I wouldn't need.

An hour later, I waltzed out of there with a new MacBook Pro, a new wireless printer, a three-year warranty and a head full of knowledge.  There's just something to be said for great customer service.  And if I have a problem?  I can just take it back to the store and talk to a real person.  

Imagine that.

The Paint

So I guess my comeback wasn't really one at all. Ohwell. As for the bedroom, it's (nearly) complete.

I made the mistake of waiting until the day before J came home to start. I had the *perfect* color sample from the paint store. I found the *perfect* bedding at Homegoods for such a bargain. I cleaned out the bedroom and even managed to clear out the ginormous furniture, and finally started painting around midnight.

At two in the morning, I was in tears. The color was SO not the same color as the small sample I had tested on the wall. What was supposed to be an organic brown dried into a stone grey. And the bedding? Metallic blue.

I gave up around 4, with half the room painted and half of my sanity left. I managed to arrange the furniture how I wanted -- making the room look bigger -- and passed out on the couch.

I didn't alert J to the fact that I'd been up to something when I picked him up at the airport. He didn't notice the dried paint in my hair while we ate lunch. When we got to the house, he didn't notice the cans of paint sitting in the dining room. I let him walk into the bedroom first.

"Wow, you rearranged the furniture! That looks great, babe," he said, throwing his bulky suitcase in the corner. I sat on the bed, waiting patiently. A few minutes later, "Oh WOW, and you painted!"

Gee. I would think stone grey would be easy to notice. But at least he helped me finish the next day -- and I had 2 gallons left over. Surprisingly, he loves the color. Me? Eh, it'll do for now.

Stall-ing

"If you sprinkle when you tinkle, please be sweet and wipe the seat." ~ Unknown

J and I finally got started on our Christmas shopping tonight. I know, I know -- but what's life without a little procrastination? We got off to a good start (thank God for gift cards) and needed to make a pit stop before trudging our way through the rest of the mall.

"Why don't you go first, and I'll hold the bags," J offered. "Then we can switch."

"I'll just take them with me," I said, "and hang them on the purse hooks."

"You guys have hooks? That doesn't seem safe. What if someone steals your stuff?"

I laughed. "The hooks are in the stalls silly."

"Wow, that's cool."

As we parted ways, I was feeling pretty hoity-toity about women's restrooms. They are pretty spiffy, what with their fancy purse hooks and smell-good soaps. I approached the first open stall and took a quick step back. Disgusting. How hard is it to flush a toilet? Shuddering, I stepped to the next one. The seat was covered in wads of toilet paper. I stepped to the next stall. Water all over the floor. The next one revealed a pee-covered seat. It took four more stalls to find a toilet worth hovering over.

My bubble burst, I met J in the food court. Women may have fancy purse hooks, but sometimes I'd give anything to be able to pee standing up.

The Funk

"Doubt is not a pleasant condition ..." -- Voltaire

Is this week over yet? Not to be Debbie Downer or anything, guess I'm just in a little funk and I've been trying to pinpoint the source. The lines are blurry, but I keep tracing it back to last Saturday night.

After much stalling from J, we met at my friend Minxy's casa in Uptown for drinks before heading out to Gilley's, a poor excuse for a country bar but great for people watching and making fools of ourselves. My old boss Jim* and his wife Pam joined us too. It was a little awkward at first because, even though Minxy, Jim and I were inseparable when we worked together, I was always on my best behavior.

So, I was a little worried about how the night would go, but the more I drank (and the more he drank) the less awkward it became and the more Pam threw dirty looks at everyone involved*. But Minxy and I played nice, involving Pam everywhere we went, spinning her around the dance floor, getting our pictures taken on the mechanical bull while J, Jim and Pabs (Minxy's fiance) threw back beers and look relieved to get some time away from us.

After the band finished, the "country" bar turned into a "white people can't dance" smorgasbord and Minxy and I got our groove on. Jim and Pam were even dancing, while J and Pabs stood at the edge of the wooden dance floor, shuffling their feet and looking for the exit. After much beckoning on our parts, they shuffled to the middle of the dance floor, where Minxy and I made our best attempt at involving them in our charades.

Pabs gave in, but J did not. I pleaded with him, did my irresistible booty shake, had Minxy do her booty shake, but to no avail. J stood there watching me for awhile, and I made one last attempt to get him to loosen up. He shoved his hands in his pockets, took a step back, and simply said in a tone I haven't heard in a long time, "I can't dance with you." It broke my heart. Not because he can't dance, but because he wouldn't try. I looked around at Jim and Pam, who were doing a strange variation of the robot and laughing. I glanced at Minxy, who had convinced Pabs to twirl her around the now nearly empty dance floor. And then I looked at J, his hands in his pockets, just staring at me like we were in two separate worlds. With a dagger in my heart, I danced by myself.

It's in moments like those where I realize just how different we are. And beyond that, it's moments like that where darkness from the past comes flooding back like a tidal wave of emotion.

Before we were married, J and I were broken up for awhile. And before we broke up, we were in a strange place for months. Not quite broken up, not quite separated. Not dating anyone, but not sure we could make it work. It was a weird time, full of strange emotions. Both of us probably said things to others that we shouldn't have.

After J and I got back together and engaged, I ran across an e-mail from him to one of his co-workers in a different town. Apparently, they had met at a business meeting in Dallas and had kept in touch. In this e-mail, it was evident that there was something between them. And, the one line that popped into my head Saturday night, was a line J had responded to her e-mail with: "Thanks for the dance -- there's no one worth dancing with back home."

I remember sitting there that night I found it, trying to make sense of it in my mind, at first thinking this was something that happened after we had split, which would be none of my business. But the e-mail was dated May, and we had split at the end of June of that year. I remember feeling my heart race, I remember the tears splashing down my hot cheeks. I remember J waking up and wondering why I hadn't come to bed yet. I remember being so sick to my stomach, shaking, not wanting him to touch me. J had tried to explain that it was nothing, that it was the night he and his co-workers had gone to a local bar. I remember that night, because he had called me from the cab asking me to meet him there. It was late, I was in my pjs, and he was with all of his co-workers so I declined, not wanting to be the spouse that stalks him at business meetings. At the time he seemed fine with it. But, the night I found the e-mail, J admitted that he had been mad that I didn't go. Which infuriated me even more. Because you're mad, you flirted with another woman? He promised nothing else had happened, and I believe him. The e-mails alone were piercing enough.

It just never made sense to me, but at some point I got over it, placing the past back in the past. I actually hadn't even thought about it until Saturday night. And now I can't get away from it. I know J and I aren't always on the same page, or even the same planet. But it seems to be happening more frequently lately. I just wish I could forget the little things like that e-mail, or ignore the odd sense of feeling like strangers. I know we come from different backgrounds. Most of the time I enjoy that, because I've been able to learn and experience new things. I just wish he felt the same way.

I haven't talked to him about it and not sure that I should. But he knows something's wrong -- I just keep blaming it on the stress at work. Even Minxy sensed something that night, but I didn't feel like ruining the moment. I know this post is long and may not even make sense, but it has just been whirling through my mind for a week now. I'm just afraid if I mention it to J, he'll feel like I'm insecure about our future or something.

I'm not. But is he?


*He reminds me of Jim from The Office -- Adorable, funny and strangely magnetic.
*Jim and Minxy still work in the same office, and Pam is a little (read: enormously) intimidated by their friendship.

Dear Dell (An Open Letter to My Laptop)

Dear Dell,

I hope this letter finds you relaxed and in a happy place, because what I'm about to say may hurt you deeply. I've been thinking about having an affair. Well, I suppose it's not really an affair if you know about it. So, let's just call it what it is -- I'm leaving you for someone else. Who you ask? Not to sound like a complete slut, but I haven't exactly decided yet. I'm still trying out my options, although your buddy Mac is quite charming.

Calm down, Dell. You've had it coming. You're lazy. You sit on my desk all day, longing for me to use you. And when I do? You give me the cold shoulder. Or, you tease me with your fancy Vista software, only to finish first and completely crash before I can save what I've done. I need to feel satisfied too, you know!

And now ... now you won't even print. Are you mad at me? How am I supposed to accomplish anything if you won't stay connected to the Internet, or download cool and unnecessary applications or -- shocker -- print, for God's sake?!

You're too young to act soo old. You never want to stay up late, you hesitate when I want to serenade you with iTunes, you shudder at YouTube videos. I need someone who likes to have fun. I need to know that the time and money I invested in you was worth it. I need to see something else besides the Blue Screen o' Death.

I'm sorry, Dell. As much as you want to be like Mac, you aren't. And that's okay. There are people out there who will love you for who you are, like the Excel nerd in the cubicle next to mine. The last two years have had it's ups and downs ... let's not drag this out any further. Don't worry about me, Dell, I'll be okay.


Best,
Me!


P.S. I'll be back to collect my pictures and music ... you can keep the spreadsheets.