01.19.03
I've been somewhat overwhelmed lately with work. Aside from the increasingly long hours, the drama there has been escalating. Before, although the tantrums were difficult to witness, I was pretty much excluded from the actual problem du jour. I'm very courteous to everyone in the office, and in turn they...well, refrain from screaming directly at me. Which is good, 'cause, you know -- spit danger.

The last couple of weeks, though, some of the throwdowns have involved me. I don't participate per se -- not with the raised voices and the name-calling and the occasional weeping -- but I have been dragged into the fray.

My boss (who is not the one who ever introduces me into these 'discussions') has been very kind and understanding and blah-blah-blah. He's had to apologize for others' behavior twice within the last two weeks, and also asked that I not allow what goes on to make me want to leave the company (not that I brought it up; I guess he believed that the circumstances warranted that consideration).

So that's that. It's hard to talk about this with anyone, because they're not there during the insanity. My best friend offers incredible support; my boyfriend gets quietly and progressively angrier -- he wants me to quit, period. Anyway, I think LJs/blogs present particular difficulties -- you don't know me, really, and there's that lingering and natural suspicion that comes from only hearing one side of the story: "She must be doing something to contribute to this," or "She's an awfully disgruntled employee" or "Maybe she just can't handle a real 9-to-5 job." None of that's true, but it's impossible to confirm. If that makes any sense.

And on another topic entirely -- I've become addicted to cooked squash. I had squash soup at Christmas and it must have awakened some sort of squash-loving gene in me. I'm glad because, as far as I know, squash is a vegetable and therefore healthy. Granted, I put about half a stick of butter into every dish but still. I'm sure it had all sorts of vitamins and...other healthy stuff.

My Very First Meme, Because It Had Some Interesting Questions
What's on your bedside table: I don't actually have one, but my headboard has a shelf that runs alongside the bed. It's generally filled to overflowing with books, magazines, crossword puzzles and the more-than-occasional candy wrapper.

What is the geekiest part of your music collection: How can I narrow this down? There's Bon Jovi's masterpiece Slippery When Wet, not to mention Billy Joel's Greatest Hits. I refuse to include my copy of 80s Pop Explosion, because it contains the song 'Jane's Getting Serious' which is a bloody musical revelation. So the winner is....the The Miami Vice Soundtrack.

What do you eat when you raid the fridge late at night: Cereal, ramen.

What is your secret guaranteed weeping movie: I don't cry at movies.

If you could have plastic surgery, what would you have done: I'd, um...make my cheeks less round. Is there even a procedure for that?

Do you have a completely irrational fear: No, but I worry constantly over relatively minor issues. Genuinely dangerous situations don't faze me as they should.

What is the little physical habit that gives away your insecure moment: I click my teeth together. Bizarre, I know.

Do you ever have to beg: I can't say that I've needed to, as memory serves.

Are you a pyromaniac: Under the right circumstances, sure.

Do you have too many love interests: No. I don't think my brain could keep up.

Do you know anyone famous: Yes.

Describe your bed: It's a massive pine structure -- a footboard with rounded columns at either end, and a paneled headboard that stands eight or nine feet tall. California King-size mattress. Pretty ordinary linens.

Spontaneous or plan: Um, are we talking about activities? Because I generally avoid those.

Who should play you in a movie about your life: Angela Bassett would be cool but I think I'd end up with Audrey Tautou.

Do you know how to play poker: Yes.

What do you carry with you at all times: My ATM card and lipstick.

How do you drive: Aggressively.

What do you miss most about being little: Good Lord. Absolutely nothing.

Are you happy with your given name: At long last.

What color is your bedroom: The inoffensive cream that the apartment complex painted it when we moved in.

What was the last song you were listening to: (Checks WMP) Nick Cave, 'The Mercy Seat.'

Have you ever been in a play: Not since elementary school.

Who are your best friends: Bean holds the lifelong title.

Have you ever been in love: Yes.

Do you talk a lot: To my friends. With everyone else I'm fairly reserved.

Do you like yourself and believe in yourself: Like myself -- after many years, I can finally say 'yes'. Believe in myself -- no.

Have you ever done any illegal drugs: Nope.

Do you think you're cute: Perhaps in a small-animal type way. I'm short, and round at the edges; generally sausage-like in appearance.

Do poor, homeless, or starving people sometimes annoy you: Noooo...when I was very young they might have scared me, though.

Do you consider yourself to be a nice person: Yes. Nicer than a lot of people, if you can believe it.

Do you spend more time with your girlfriend, boyfriend, or your friends: My boyfriend. Most of my close friends are not in the immediate geographical vicinity.

01.12.03
I've been staying late at work the past few evenings, and then I had to go in on Saturday. But I'm okay with it, because I just discovered the most amazing thing: microwavable bacon.

I've never seen this before. I bought two big boxes. It's already cooked, and it comes in these wonderful little packets, and I want to give a big kiss -- with tongue -- to whoever thought this up. You wouldn't believe how many culinary avenues are cut off to those of us who don't use the stove. Normally to get bacon I'd be forced to go out to breakfast, and while I endure this admirably I'm too self-conscious to ask for a side order of six pieces of bacon (what? it's not filling!) in addition to my pot roast and omelet.

So thank you, person-who-invented-microwavable-bacon. If you ever need a kidney, you know who to call.

In other news, I cleaned up the website a bit, updated the Verbis page, and am finally going to get on the stick about archiving more stories. But I'm a little worried, because I hate to think that all these additional hours at work have made me more productive in general. That can't end well.

Edited To Add the following IM exchange between myself and Bean:

The Oinklet: I just posted in my blog about finding microwavable bacon, thus revealing that I am a total tool -- everybody posted back saying that all bacon is microwavable. I didn't know! It's not like you can microwave raw hamburger meat.
Bean: yes you can..
The Oinklet: You can?
Bean: yup. just put it in there and cook for a while, then break it up and stir it around, and cook some more.
The Oinklet: Damn!
The Oinklet: But how do you know when it's done?
Bean: you can cook anything in the microwave.
Bean: the same way you know when you cook it on the stove: it's brown and there's no pink.
Bean: at least i think you can... i'm pretty sure you can.
The Oinklet: Wow. This is a whole new world opening up to me.

01.06.03
PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT: For those of you tempted by the current Domino's promotion -- large pizza, one topping, plus those cinnamon-sugar Dot things -- resist the urge. The Dots are just recycled pizza dough, and they shaft you on the icing. I could just be bitter, however, because I had to endure merciless -- merciless! -- taunting from the boy about my eating habits until I threatened to shove a slice of pizza up his ass. Have I mentioned that he's the one who gave me the 'Piglet' appellation?

Finally saw 'The Two Towers' this weekend. It was fine, once I got over the urge to give everyone in it a haircut. Thanks to the 'Buffy' fandom community, though, I'm seeing slash everywhere. There'd be some restrained, heartfelt male bonding moment, and I'd be twitching in my seat going, "They so want each other!"

Now I'm off to go watch 'Joe Millionaire'. When you see these shows advertised, and you shake your head at the shameless media pandering to the lowest common denominator -- think of me. Just as an addendum, though: I don't know any construction workers who only make $19,000 a year. I think Joe might not be doing it right.

01.05.02
I found my iron! For those of you following such things (see 12.22.02 entry), it was at the bottom of my closet, behind a box of old greeting cards.

I updated the hell out of the website today. Updated the links, added a new page, generally played on the computer. Southern California is so wasted on me.

I broke my laptop again. Somewhat. See, I was carrying it back into the guest room and I heard this crack and now my NIC isn't attached properly anymore. Every so often it dislodges itself and I have to jiggle and shove and curse to get it to pick up the Internet connection. Mom always said I needed to take better care of my toys...

Finally, I've been nominated in the Bite Me Awards. I'd let this go to my head, but I'm currently wearing fuzzy red pajama bottoms and can't even take myself seriously.

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