The bloggy magic...

...is pretty much gone.

Probably not forever. I mean, it's not like I know. But what I do know is that blogging just doesn't have any appeal right now. I seem to prefer restricting my ramblings to my internal monlogue. If I were to blog right now, it would only be to say things like:

I went to work. It was busy/boring. I went home, played with the dog, hung out, and maybe did some cleaning or writing. Then, if it's the weekend, I went to work again. Night jobs are crazy. The shift was busy/boring.

And it isn't as if my life is really as terribly dull as that sounds, but I don't have the energy to go into more detail. Maybe it's just blogging itself that's boring right now. And I guess it's started to feel really narcissistic to me, too, which doesn't make much sense because I adore reading other people's blogs. Go figure.

Anyway, though, I'm done with this for now. No more even thinking about blogging for me for a while, unless something comes up that I just desperately need to post. Which probably won't happen.

10 Myths About Introverts, awesome shows, general update.

Warning: long post is long. Just so you know.

Okay, I just stumbled on a post by Carl King called "10 Myths About Introverts", and it. Is. Wonderful.

I'm a pretty strong introvert, and it feels weirdly self-centered to say, but I could see some of myself in every single one of these points. The first one, especially, made me laugh, because once I get going talking about something I love with a friend, it's really damn hard for me to shut up. The thing about dopamine sensitivity makes so much sense, and really, it's nice knowing that there's a biological reason that people react differently to situational stimulation. I've often been really, really embarassed at how overwhelmed I've felt in groups, crowds, at work, whatever - like there's just so much going on, and while I can keep up for a while, I just don't have the energy to be constantly reacting to everything around me. And it doesn't mean that there aren't certain times that I just adore being out in public, because there totally are. It's just...everything in moderation, you know? And, knowing this, it means that not everything has to be laid at the feet of social/general/whatever anxiety. It's still a factor, but it's not the be-all and end-all of my social woes.

(Also, it makes me kind of proud that I got through a year of full-time food service, because holy chaotic situations, Batman!)

Anyway, general update? Um. Work's fine, pretty busy. I'm all about making myself more and more useful right now in the hopes of snagging extra hours, because right now it seems like a better bet than spreading myself thin over another job.

I'm also kiiind of starting to learn some wireworking techniques for jewelry making, which is crazy fun (and HARD, my GOD), though I think I might not be the wireworking type - I'm finding that I prefer beads made of semiprecious stones and antiqued brass chains and unique pendants, preferably with oceanic/steampunk/generally unique themes. Also, when you play with wire, you end up with metal smudges all over your hands and weird smells, which is slightly offputting. Nate's already much better at it than I am, too. I think he's going to work on making kilt pins, but you never know with him.

I ordered a gorgeous necklace from Sandrandan Jewelry on Etsy last week (Heather, look at that store! I think there's a lot there that you'd like. Possibly). It was totally impulsive, which is really not normal for me (in the past, I haven't been into jewelry too much - I tend to lose things pretty easily, and...I don't know. It costs money?), but I just about fainted when I saw it, it was so lovely. It's a stylized brass poppy with three amber drops on one side - has really gorgeous kind of asymetrical Art Nouveau thing going on. I also ordered some tiny little brass lockets with settings for tiny little cabochons (8mm! So small!), which will be green glass beads with yellow roses. So those will be fun to add to whatever I end up making.

I think I'm a little bit addicted to Etsy.

Aside from that, though, not too much else going on here. We're still waging the Apartment War - yesterday Nate won the Battle of the Jeans, which previously were in a terrifyingly enormous pile and now are neatly folded and put away. We also swept, mopped, and did dishes. So that's actually some really good progress.

I don't know what else. I've been terrible on the communication front, which has definitely been an on-and-off theme lately. Last week was actually really rough - things didn't start turning around until the weekend. So hopefully they'll keep getting better, I guess. Oh! Two shows we've been watching that I wanted to mention!

Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss's "Sherlock", which currenly only has three 90-minute episodes up for season one on Netflix, is one of the absolute best things I've ever seen EVER. It's a modern update of the Sherlock Holmes thing, and it's got Martin Freeman as Watson and Benedict Cumberbatch as Sherlock, and oh my god. I can't wait for season two. Each episode is movie-length, so they're a bit of a time commitment, but they're so witty and well done. Best quote (from Sherlock): "I'm not a psychopath, I'm a high-functioning sociopath. Learn the difference." He's very much in the tradition of Jeremy Brett's Sherlock, except that his Sherlock loves to text, and it is just so wonderful. Also, Martin Freeman is adorable. As usual.

The other show is Joss Whedon's "Dollhouse", which I really wasn't impressed with until maybe the third or fourth episode - Eliza Dushku isn't the greatest actress, but she's certainly not terrible, and there are some really great characters in it. Not to mention the fact that it's setting up a really, really interesting dystopia. It moves more slowly than Buffy or Firefly, though, so you really have to have some patience and get past how much more sexualized it seems than Whedon's other work. I mean, he's never shied away from things being sexy, but this time it feels like it's all over - the theme song, the main character, the settings. It's not bad, though, and it'll take something pretty extreme to keep me from watching to the end.

(Okay, random thing - I keep getting calls from someone named, and I'm not kidding, "Bambino Lamb". I don't think this is a real person. They keep calling and hanging up. Very odd.)

Anyway, though, this is a much, much longer entry than I was planning on. I'd probably better wrap it up.

Politics.

One of the biggest problems I've seen with political dialogues is that when it comes to issues all across the spectrum, everybody is talking at different levels. You have some people with one understanding of an issue saying what they think is right based on their understanding, and other people saying other things based on their understanding, and then someone with a greater or lesser understanding will say something and the same generally-well-meaning people will riot over how that person is wrong, and it's just a fucking mess. And this applies to people talking on the street just as well as it does Congress and the House of Reps and the variety of morons putting in their bids for the presidency. It takes a huge amount of concentrated effort for any kind of clear and basic communication to take place, let alone constructive debate.

It's because everything's so damn personal.

There's no way to separate who someone is - their backround, ideology, theology, psychology - from their ability to make decisions. In most cases, that's a very good thing (theology excluded. That is never a good thing. In the U.S., at least). We don't want robots making bottom-line objective decisions. Then you end up with...I don't know, the world in Biting the Sun or something (not that that wouldn't be fascinating). But we just have this incredible surplus of people who can't take their theology out of it, who can't think beyond their own comfort and self-righteousness.

I don't know. Whenever I try to articulate thoughts on politics I almost always end up talking in circles and confusing myself.

The point of this, however, was that I am NOT HAPPY with this country. And it had better GET IN LINE or else it will get NO SUPPER.

Also, I think that studying the ways that people communicate is really interesting. I should look into that.

ALSO-ALSO, Stephen Colbert is what Republicans wish they were. Middle-aged. White. Charismatic. Interesting. Funny.

Ugh, I hate them so much.

Meandering through my day.

Seriously, that's all I've been doing. I've gotten some work done at work - finished a mailing project and got a spreadsheet to the point where I'll be able to finish it easily tomorrow - but mostly I've just been distracted and useless. I know that the faster I get these projects done, the better it'll look on my review, but frankly? The review isn't until September, and unless my supervisor is making notes on every single thing I do, which she isn't, I really doubt that the fact that I had a couple of slow days is going to come up.

I'm not trying to play the system, I promise. I just can't concentrate.

Last Saturday I had a terrible migraine. Not just a bad headache, but a couldn't-open-my-eyes, throwing-up-from-the-pain, sunlight-lancing-into-my-temples, on-and-off-fever, kill-me-now migraine. It was like having the flu times the worst headache of my life, and it was miserable.

So then I worked again all day on Sunday (did I mention that I didn't get a weekend? Yeah. Worked at the cafe both days) with a sort of persistent low-level headache, and by the time I was all settled in at work on Monday (post-8 AM meeting, of all things), I could feel another migraine on the way. So I did the smart thing, called my supervisor, and took off for home, where I spent the next four hours trying to sleep through the worst of it. As if that was really a possibility.

Anyway, though, the point of all of this rambling and complaining is that I hate migraines, and I'm feeling better now, and I never, ever, ever want to have another one again.

Thirteen minutes left of work. Then I can go grab the dog, and we will play and frolic and romp and splash at the lake park for a while. Still haven't done any writing - though I've done lots and lots of talking about the writing I haven't done - so maybe I'll get to that later? I don't know. Running on four hours of sleep, so I'm somewhat keyed up and cranky. We did...ten loads of laundry last night. Or something like that. It was epic, and it took forever, oh my god the apartment is perpetually a disorganized, dog-hair-infested mess.

But it's cool. Seriously, it's cool.

Frustration.

I. Am. Frustrated.

You could probably tell that from my post title.

Seriously, though, I am frustrated.

And it's not just one thing or another. It feels like it's everything.

The dog. The apartment. Work. Finances. The only things that aren't frustrating me right now are my relationship and writing, for which I'm profoundly grateful.

The dog, though...these last couple of days have been really rough with him. A few days ago he twisted his foot, and while we think he's fine, sometimes it looks like he favors it a little. I don't want to make it worse if there is something wrong with it, but I also need to make sure that he's exercised enough before I leave him to go to work. This was thrown into sharp relief the other day when I arrived home to find the apartment quite literally torn apart.

Torn. Apart.

Garbage all over the kitchen floor, things pulled off the table, the cat scratcher utterly destroyed, at least five cardboard boxes shredded and the pieces scattered to the four winds...I've never seen anything like it. I mean, I expected to encounter something like this, having a puppy and everything, but he's close to a year old, hadn't shown any particular tendencies towards this kind of thing before, and I thought he'd do most of his acting out while he was still adjusting to us. But now he's adjusted, and the acting out has begun. I really don't know what we're doing wrong, but he seriously has all kinds of attitudes going on right now. He's still mostly very good, but we can't get him to stop pulling on walks with the three of us (he's fine when it's just Nate or I with him), and he will not listen when I tell him that he has to wait to go in or out of doors. He absolutely insists on going first, which means that he thinks he's in charge, but...I don't know. I really don't.

He's also identified me as the "weaker" one, which I hate. I got so mad today when we went outside - he caught me by surprise and dragged me through the entryway instead of letting me go first. But the entryway has this stupid concrete step, so of course I tripped and almost bashed my head in on the pavement. I rolled him, though, and he submitted, but damn. I was absolutely furious, and worse, stressed because I only had so much time before work and had several errands to run. It made me not even want to take him to the field. He was pretty good from then on, though, so...I suppose I'm glad I did.

He's kept us so busy, though, that we've been too tired to really work on unpacking and organizing the apartment, which has built up this steady layer of grime (half figuratively, half literally, unfortunately) over the last week. I did some cleaning last night, but it barely made a dent. I hate being in there. I can't think, can't write, can't even relax. The mountain of clothes in the bedroom has gotten worse, not better. The kitchen is awkward and makes doing dishes utterly suck. It's just...AGH. AGH, AGH, AGH.

That felt good.

How do you keep a dog from controlling your life while still giving it the attention and exercise it needs?

At least it's a three-day weekend.

Deleted post, frustration, agh.

I wrote about half of an entry yesterday and saved it as a draft, and it's been deleted by the Blogger outage. Oh well.

I guess I'm just sort of frustrated right now. I feel like there's a ton of things going on, and a ton of things that I should be aware of and keeping track of, and I just can't do it. So I'm going to make a list.

1. Sarah's going to be home for a week, and she and my parents will probably be coming to Winona to visit. This is great and everything, but the apartment is a mess, not everything has been moved in, and Nate rolled his ankle last night on our run, so I really can't move the big things too well by myself. But the dishes need to be done, the floor needs to be mopped, we've got a ton of laundry to take of, and I know that no matter what I do, there's still going to be some kind of a mess when they get there. And I'm just not up for being judged on that right now.

2. Work. I have a few forms that I keep putting off filling out (401K, ahem, making investment decisions is haaaard), and I need to do them this afternoon. Or else. Also, having this job split between two receptionists is making for all kinds of miscommunications, and since the other girl is super take-charge and keeps leaving me annoying notes, I'm getting a bit peeved. She's also getting morning training that I'm not, which means that while it may not been good that she still needs someone to sit with her, I'm also getting left out of the loop on some things. That's not really how I want to start this job out. We should always be on an equal footing.

3. Bills. My brain just sort of shuts down when I think about them, like avoiding them will make them go away. I know this isn't the case, so why do I keep doing it? Not having internet isn't helping, either. I really, really need to get these taken care of. I also have a check from the coffee shop that I haven't deposited, because I'm not even sure WHICH bill I need to pay with it. I worked out yesterday that if I only work 15 hours a week at BG, I'll make enough to nominally cover my bills, even if I have nothing left over. Problem is, I'm not even getting that many hours right now. And if I pick up another job, the puppy is going to have to spend more time by himself (we're trying to keep it at three hours or less a day, until his separation anxiety wears off).

4. The puppy. God, I just love him so much. But he's messy, horny, and hates it when either of us leaves, which is adorable when he's just tracking us around the apartment, but worrying if I have to tie him up outside for a few minutes or go to work. The other morning I left him outside of McDonalds for like, three minutes, and he got himself so badly tangled in his leash that it started to choke him. So I had this screaming puppy twisting around, and I couldn't get at the knot because he was so scared he was snapping, and it was only sheer luck that he managed to flip over and right himself. It was terrifying. I never want to see anything like that ever again. I mean, seriously, I'm still not over how badly that scared me.

That walk was actually just really interesting overall. I was able to calm him after that incident with some bacon and hash browns (I know, feeding your dog McDonalds is bad. But it did make him feel better, and that's all I cared about), and we went down to the levee to sit for a few minutes. While we were there, though, I was approached by this guy in his middle ages. I had been watching him because he was walking down below us, and I wasn't too thrilled when he came up and started walking towards me, but I wasn't actually worried - or if I was, I wasn't hiding it too well, because Samson was having none of it. He stopped the guy about ten feet away from me, and wouldn't let him near. And damn, that pup can bark. The guy literally backed away with his hands up. I'm not going to lie, though - I didn't feel too bad about it. In fact, it was actually pretty cool. Even if he didn't mean any harm, I really don't need strange men approaching me when I'm in an isolated area.

I don't know if it's a terribly insecure or bad thing for me to like about having a dog - especially a fairly protective German Shepherd - but I do. I really like it. I can walk comfortably around town at night, absolutely secure in the fact that this dog actually cares about who's approaching me. And at this point, he's met and been really, really good with so many other people and dogs that if he decides that someone is a threat, I'm not going to argue with him unless I know for a fact that they're not. It does mean that I have to make an effort to control my anxiety, because he'll pick up on it more and more the longer he lives with us, but he's also very soothing for it. We even brought him to Ed's the other night (they allow well-behaved dogs in the bar. How cool is that?), and I was able to comfortably socialize for about three hours. It was pretty great.

So anyway, I'm going to go fill out those bank forms I've been putting off, and then check out the summer NaNo program. (Which, btw, I am SO EXCITED about. A summer writing boost is EXACTLY what we need!)

Short entry, possibly expanded later.

Okay, the coding is all effed up, so Sam is just going to have to hang out up here. I ramble on about him further down.

Since I'm at work, I'm going to have to keep this short (there aren't any projects for me right now, and I've read all of the training manuals at least twice, so...not much to do. I guess banks are slow mid-week, so there aren't even very many calls coming in. Not complaining.)

Lots and lots and lots of things have happened over the last couple of months. I've had these periods of extreme business, where there was so much going on that I just couldn't keep track of everything (note to self: go over your bills, goddammit), and some times where things were quiet, and I was even able to teeter on the edge of boredom. Not often, though, because the time when I wasn't working was incredibly relaxing. In a somewhat uncomfortable way, given that I was living out of several boxes and the cat was miserable, but still, relaxing. Now, with the second move mostly finished, it looks like I might even be able to get a routine going, though the puppy will probably take some getting used to.

I'm really bad at transitions, which is one of the reasons I haven't been online much (the other being...no internet. Still. And for the first few weeks, no laptop). If my world feels out of control, I've found that it's really hard for me to want to engage in the online one at all. But that's definitely getting better.

Anyway, the puppy. The Puppy. THE PUPPY.

If I weren't in a large, echoey bank, I'd totally be squeeing right now. I'm still that excited.

I mean, I've never had a puppy of my own! I know he's not technically "my own", since he's Nate's, too, but...I've never even held shares in the having-of-a-puppy. I never had much to do with my parents' horrible old lhasa apso, and I've helped take care of other dogs, but this one is mine! I'm a primary caretaker! It's so exciting!

He's not a young puppy - more like an adolescent. At almost eleven months, he's nearly full-grown, which I actually think kind of rocks, as it means that we don't have to deal with the teething stage or anything. I would have been happier if he had come to us neutered, but it's just something we'll have to do. I'd rather have him unneutered than not have him at all, is what I'm saying. His...ahem, "red rocket"...is pretty horrifying, though, and he's just getting to the stage where he's started trying to hump things. Mostly Nate, which is hilarious. Our dog might very well be bisexual. It's okay, I love him just as much.

He's a purebred White German Shepherd, and he's gorgeous. He has one floppy ear that just cracks us up, and it gives him the dopeyest expression when he's happy or confused. It also means that he's much more approachable than GSDs usually are - apparently the whites tend to not have the right temperaments for police or military work, so people don't associate them with, you know, 275 psi of terrifying jaw power. Still, though, I've noticed that on the street, people do approach pretty respectfully and ask before they pet him. I really like that, and it's good for my people skills, too, as conversation goes pretty easily when you're talking about a dog.

The adoption process was...well, it certainly wasn't anything like getting Juniper, with the application and whatnot. We found Samson on Craigslist, and since the ad was intriguing, we called up to get some info. Well, "some info" turned into "nearly half an hour of talking to the owner", which then turned into, "can we come see him tomorrow", which turned into an entire evening of chilling with the family, which turned into us driving home with a seventy-pound german shepherd sticking his head out the back window of the car. Yeah. It was that fast. But everything just checked out. He needed a home, the situation was fine (they had three kids and another dog, so a puppy was just a bit much for them. The dad teared up when we got in the car with Sam, though. It was pretty sad), they had his AKC and vet papers, he's in good health right now, and frankly, we may live in an apartment, but we have the space for a dog like this. And the time and energy, though he's going to be AMAZING for our fitness. Seriously, he'll chase softballs in a field for HOURS if you let him. I prefer the hikes, though - this morning, I took him up into the bluffs, and the hills were awesome for tiring him out. And me, but then, I don't need too much energy to work four hours at a bank. So it works out well for all of us.

Oh yeah, the bank. I haven't really talked about that at all, have I?


So I work in a bank now.

Actually, there's not much more to it than that. The building is pretty cool, though - I'm surrounded by like, a million tons of marble (white, from Italy! Green, from Greece!), and a lot of the furniture is original to the bank, which puts it at almost 100 years old. Walking into it is a little like going back in time. Orientation week (which did NOT need to be a week, but that's beside the point) was hell, and I've forgotten most of it because I had a monster cold for most of it, but I actually really like the job so far. I'll like it more once they have more for me to do, but that's reception for you - when you're needed, you're needed, and aside from that it's a pretty quiet gig. Not bad at all.

Man, I just realized how long this entry is getting. And I haven't had one phone call! Not one!

I should probably call it quits for now. I'll definitely be back for more blogging soon. Heather, your blog has been inspiring me - I check your updates every time I get the chance, and I'm starting to get the writing itch again. I LOVE all of those procrastination links that you posted, even though they make my heart hurt with the knowledge of how truthy they are, and how delinquent I am.

It's not really eavesdropping if they're standing in front of you, right?

I'm pretty much transcribing a conversation happening in front of me. Some people don't know how close they stray to being parodies of themselves.


"You know, I've been thinking about it and thinking about it, and I just can't figure out how we got here."

"Well, you know, I'll tell you how we got here. We got here because we were talking. We were talking, and then they started listening, and then we waited to make our move till they were ready."

"I think you're right, I think you're absolutely right. And it didn't hurt that we have the technology now, we really do."

"Ah, but when we didn't have it, and we were trying to play the game - that was when things were going sour. We were talking a game we couldn't play. So you know what I did? I changed the game. I went and I changed the game on them. So now they're not even sure what game they're playing."

"Right, right. And it gave us some time to get ready."

"Exactly. So we waited till the time was right, and we made the play, and we nailed it. Touchdown. And there was nothing they could do about it. We blasted the competition out of the water. They're not even in the running now."


Etc. They went on in this vein for quite a while. It's always surprising to me how many times people can repeat themselves in different ways without getting called out on it. I know I'm always tempted to point that out when I'm actually involved in the conversation.

All I can really say is Oy vey, businessmen. Sports and war metaphors, seriously? That's all you've got? Please carry on this conversation somewhere else.

They kind of remind me of Stephen Fry and Hugh Laurie in "A Bit of Fry & Laurie" when they play those ridiculous businessmen who are always shouting "DAMN!" and "BLAST!" and drinking cognac. I mean, there was less shouting here, but still. I think those stereotpyes probably exist for a reason.

Incompetancy On Parade (The minor woes of a receptionist)

Disclaimer: This post is nothing more than me throwing a minor bitchfit about losing 15 minutes of my time to utter inanity. Also, run-ons ahead. It's been that kind of day.

Okay, what the hell.

This isn't really that big a deal, but for some reason I've been torturing myself by reading the comments on Yahoo! news stories, which always seem to be from the lowest common denominators and seriously, I don't understand how some of these people even know how to breathe, let alone type, and it's so depressing to imagine that there really are people like that out in the world and not just sequestered in their basements or bomb shelters or whatever other hidey-hole it would be preferable for them to be in. I'm not kidding, so many of those comments are absolutely vile. Maybe someday I'll cull a selection of the worst, just for posterity.

Uh. Where was I going with that.

Oh, right. I've been torturing myself, because Yahoo! news is one of the first things I see at work, so I've been a bit ticked off and shirty this morning. It's been extremely dull since I got just about all of the week's work done yesterday (in a bizarre fit of productivity), and I've been trying not to fall asleep and get fired because let's face it, they may pay me to read the news and answer the phones, but they don't pay me to sleep, and then I go on break only wanting a nice cup of bracingly black coffee, some crackers, and my book, and what do I end up doing instead? Breathing in the stale cigarette fumes emanating from a 50-year-old lady who needs directions from me on how to order a goddamn pizza. And she has to stand half a foot from where I'm sitting and loom over me in order for this to be accomplished.

Fortunately for her, I am a pizza pro.

Her: "You're the receptionist, aren't you?" (Already advancing on me)

Me: "Um, yes." (Holding book in an obvious attempt to communicate that I am not only on break but busy, thank you very much)

Her: "I want to order a pizza for lunch. Do you think I can do that now? Or do I have to wait until I go on lunch break?" (Already looming, way too close, in my bubble, etc.)

Me: "Uh, it's probably best if you do it now. They're probably just opening, but the pizza's more likely to get here during your actual lunch break if you order in advance. If you wait, it might not get here till your break's over."

Her: (Pointing at some flyers randomly taped to the fridge) "Is that where we're supposed to order pizza from?"

Me: (Mouth slightly agape, thinking to myself, Seriously? You think we have rules about where we order pizza from? Lady, you're the one paying for it. Neither I nor anybody else here gives a good goddamn where you order from.) "I don't know, somebody probably just put that up there." (Continuing, at her blank look...) "You can order from there if you want."

Her: "Is that the right number there on the flyer?"

Me: (Don't grimace, don't grimace...good GOD this is taking a long time, my break is half over...) "Should be."

Her: "Do I have to pay with a card, or can I use my $20?"

Me: (OH MY GOD SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP) "Either should be fine."

Her: (Looming once more, making the call) "I'm going to need the address for this place."

Me: (God, anything to get you to go away. [I write the address on a piece of paper for her. She reads it, then writes it down again.])

Her: (Getting to the point where they verify the business name so it's easier for the driver to find...) "What's this place called, again?"

Me: (Head. Exploded. She's been temping here for a month and a half and she doesn't know the name of the business she's been working for. HOW.)

Her: (Seeming satisfied) "Okay, they're bringing me my pizza."

Me: "Did you tell them what time you needed it by?" (I happen to know that she doesn't go on break for another two hours, which means that currently, her pizza is on track to get here an hour and a half early.)

Her: "They don't know? But I just called!"

Me: "Well...they don't know unless you tell them."

Her: (Glaring, dialing again, bitching at whichever poor Pizza Hut team member happened to answer the call, hanging up, looking at me) "Okay, they're going to bring the pizza to you at noon. Let me know when it's here. And they tacked on some kind of charge to the total. My $10 pizza was $13. They are NOT getting a tip."

Me, silently: "My break is over, and I am getting the fuck out of here. At this point, I don't care when or to whom they're bringing your fucking pizza. I've been breathing in your cigarette stench for fifteen minutes and trying to be polite, but I am finished with this ridiculous business."

Okay, I'm out of steam. I can't do this anymore. It wasn't a dramatization, but damn, was it tiring to type up. Anyway, the ending was that I wasn't even going to be there by the time the pizza was delivered because I'd be on my lunch by then, and also, sometimes I hate people.

God, now I feel really petty. I don't think I was ever overtly rude to her, and if she had just been polite and non-bubble-invasive about it, I wouldn't have minded helping her so much. But...to not know the name or address of the place you've been working for the last six weeks? To complain about basic tax and delivery charge on a pizza you're having delivered? To boss me around like I'm nobody after I just helped you avert a pizza-timing-disaster? To take up all of my morning break with your incompetancy?

Just...no. Fuck you.

Edit: I know the formatting on this post royally sucks, but I don't have the patience to properly demarcate which italics indicate action and which indicate me ranting silently. Sorry.

Introduction

(Sampson Forest & Memorial Park, Kingston, MA)

I like to take walks. No, seriously, I know that's a really profound statement, but keep your hat on.

I realized recently that my other blog, It (is)(will be) Written, wasn't really meeting my needs as far as what I wanted to write about. As a result of that, it started to flag - my posting schedule went all to hell, and I've barely looked at it in a week. "Thoughts from Walks" is inspired in part by the Vlogbrothers' "Thoughts from Places", the awesome videos John and Hank post when they travel. They're full of philosophy and insight and humor and all kinds of good things, all of it augmented by the fact that, well, they're traveling. I don't travel much right now, and I very recently got a replacement car, so I'm technically not obligated to walk much. But spring is on its way, and frankly, I need to get out more. When my transportation options were more limited, I used to do a lot of walking - to friend's houses, to school, to the store, to the woods, to anywhere I wanted to be. And it gave me a lot of time for introspection, general musing, and for appreciating the world I live in.

I want to recapture some of that. This is going to be my personal blog, the place I go when I want to postulate, philosophize, ramble, rant, exclaim, complain, or whatever else it is I do. I'm not going to constrain myself to only one theme, the way my writing blog is laid out - I'll probably cover some religion and politics here, so if you don't like it, well, no one's making you stay.