We don't need no water...

So, last night I decided to get all Spanish and make gaspacho and a tortilla de patata for dinner. If you've never had a tortilla de patata, they're soooo good. But, there's lots of olive oil involved which is why I'm blogging today about the fire I caused this morning.

Okay, so last night while I was cooking potatoes in oil for the tortilla, some of the oil dripped down under the burner. I didn't notice it. This morning I got up and put the kettle on the same burner and turned it up to "high" to boil water for coffee. Then I went into the bedroom and shut the door behind me...about five minutes later I come out of the bedroom and I notice a very nice glow in the kitchen. The oil under the burner had ignited! I screamed for Stephen and grabbed the baking soda. I poured all of it on the burner and made a huge mess and set off the smoke alarm, the whole time I was screaming for Stephen. Stephen never woke up.

This is not the first time this has happened. The last time I was imitating a certain sexy Spanish chef I met during my single months. He made an omelet on a non stick pan perfectly by letting it get super hot. Needless to say, the same exact thing happened, except that time the fire was in the pan. On a brighter note, however, the tortilla and gaspacho turned out really nice last night. Stephen even bought us a bottle of red wine...very nice. I brought the left overs for lunch...without the wine of course :( I better get back to work now, I have tons to do! Stay safe, ya'll.

I wander as I ponder...

I've been full of questions today not the least of which is why we got Fresh Linen scented Febreze for the lady's restroom. All day today when I pass by it smells like someone finished a load...and did some laundry....parumpum. It's true and it's gross. Note to self: stop passing by the ladies restroom so much.

So, I got K her favorite cake for the company birthday thing that we do once a month. Alas, she wasn't here to enjoy it and I already got razzed for getting white cake with white frosting by a certain someone with big boobs and too much jewelry. Wait, that's half the office. It's like a gypsy camp here sometimes, I swear...thanks a lot Silpada. Accent on the"i", thank you. The good news is that one of the cakes was never cut into and K can have it all when she comes back tomorrow. I hope she's packin' insulin.

And now I'll share my notes from the most recent of our ever engaging all staff meetings *ahem*: "I peed on my nozzles", "...love is love is love is love is love...", "..fill your reserves...", "...I'm the bad guy...", and "I thought the new intern was pregnant, but she's not!" That last one is actually a note that was passed to me during the meeting. My natural response: "Guuuuurrrl!" I'm also glad to say that I aced the quiz at the end of our training on neglect. If I'm not mistaken it was titled: Neglect, a Painfully Obvious Approach.

Oh, and Said Person who is no longer with our program because she quit to go back to school is now trying to get information from Fast Eddie about whether or not we've hired someone to replace her. And, she's pretending like she's sooo hurt that I unfriended her on Facebook as if she can't imagine what would have prompted me to do so. Said Person can eat shit and die. There, I'm done, I'm finished. From now on she will no longer be Said Person. She will be known as She Who Must Not Be Rehired.

And, I'm done, spent, exhausted by this day. I haven't even touched upon this crazy situation with the boyfriend. I'll blog about that later, but for the moment I'm saturated. Skeletor Out.

I feel serious in a very seriously serious way. Seriously.

So, I thought I'd be able to start this blog without the word "so", but I can't sooooo there. So, I got a promotion at work (I know, wierd, right?) and now I'm taking work seriously as a result. Side note, Fast Eddie just came into my office and tried to make Dutch Boy laugh but it failed miserably. I wonder if Fast Eddie knows that if Dutch Boy laughs she'll turn to dust. I should tell him.

Anyway, so I got a promotion and it's got me thinking about every aspect of my life. From my relationship with Stephen to why I can't seem to get myself together and ready to go on a regular basis every morning. I realized that I may not be taking my life very seriously as well, just like I wasn't taking this job seriously, WTF? Taking my job seriously is one thing but my life!!?!!?! And, I know what some of you might say, "How did this not occur to you earlier?"...I don't know. I really don't. But, it's given me a sense of urgency to get my proverbial shit together and move on with my life and stop living like I'm just waiting to clock out.

Also, for the record, I really have to get over this OCD thing I have about my phone lying sideways in my pockets. I walked to Wendy's to get my lunch today and I stuck my hand in my right pocket every five seconds to adjust the phone. This is not the best neighborhood to do that in. Seriously.

Those Eyebrows!

Oh my god, I just clicked on my profile picture and I'm appalled at how bushy my eyebrows look. I'm like a TexMex version of Eugene Levy. Yikes. I guess Stephen was right, I need to beat those bad boys back. I have lots more to say, especially a little something special about a certain deluded, needy, contrived, air headed, penciled eyebrow, gay husband banging, little super whore. Am I bitter? No. Just fucking pissed off. I'll write a purposely vague rant later. I'm at work and already in the dog house (more about that later) so I better go.

Hair of the dog that brit me....

So this weekend was pretty interesting. I went to a quincinera for a coworker's daughter and had a pretty good time. Although, funny thing happened. The caterers were late with the food and after delivering the food they left. So, my poor coworker, heretofore to be known as Thanks God, had no one to serve her guests. Cue the superman theme song. All of my coworkers that showed up to the reception and their respective spouses/ significant others, served food for guests in what looked like a Puerto Rican lunch line. It was a strange moment but it seemed so familiar and I felt completely comfortable doing it. The highlights: Stephen was scolded several times in Spanish by one of Thanks God's relatives for spilling the rice (he'd had 3 margaritas by that time). Stephen who doesn't speak a lick of Spanish just smiled and nodded. Another employee whom I love dearly and heretofore will be known as Westsider (c'mon keep up) served the pork. All she had to serve with was a pair of tongs, so to stabilize the food before serving it, she grabbed it with the other hand (ungloved). The looks on the guest's faces were priceless. And, finally, West Sider's very short husband served the salad which nobody wanted. All in all, it was a great time, but I'm surprised at how well they train us here....a veritable army of Johnnies On The Spot.

Then, after the quincinera, I went over to my friend Kim's house for a birthday bash she and her husband were having. As I walked in the door, her very skittish dog, Toga, greeted me at the door. Toga never does that, she usually growls and barks from a corner until I sit down and then she's as sweet as pie. I thought it odd that she would greet me at the door but I still reached down to pet her. Bad idea. She barked AND bit me the same time...she brit me. So now I have a bruise on my forearm under my wrist. That'll teach me.

Sunday I volunteered at this year's Jazz Festival at the beer booth. Our organization benefits from the beer booth proceeds. I was pretty bored the whole time. There weren't that many people there and the other volunteers were army guys that spent the whole time checking out the women. They tried to get me in on the fun but I just turned around and ignored them. I'm too old to pretend to check out women. It was awkward but, as I expected, nothing was said about it. So, this weekend I was a lunch lady, dog brite victim, and a total unapologetic fag. I couldn't make it up if I tried.

What just happened?

So, I get a text from my friend, M. M is a very good friend of mine, and we were especially close during the time that I was single after breaking up with D. However, lately, and for reasons that I don't feel like expounding on at the moment, we've grown a little distant. Back to the text. I got a text from him that read as follows: "Danny asked me to invite you over to his place for movie night tonight"...usually when M invites me to join him and his friends he says something like, "We're doing this or that, come with us!". This seemed to me like Danny made M invite me against M's wishes. So I asked what time it was and the usually chatty M responded with " Around 8". I told him that I couldn't make it today but that I'd love to go to the next movie night and to please give Danny my number. No response.

Is it just my imagination or did I get a "I hope he says no" invitation? Wierd.

Teehee..

So, I'm supposed to be looking for a funny netflix movie to watch instantly but I'm actually blogging *whispers* and Stephen doesn't know it. Dinner was fucking awesome. This increase in veggies and grains has done me a lot of good with one very unexpected and most welcomed side effect - weight gain.

So, today was actually a very laid back evening....so far. I think the talk Stephen and I had yesterday took a lot of pressure off the both of us. But, who knows. I'm committed but my life will go on either way. Like Celine said, "I will go on".

Incidentally, today I read an article about a 45 yr old black woman who became a rabbi recently. I'm inspired. I'm glad that there's enough openess to diversity in the Reform movement that a 45 yr old black rabbi can lead a congregation in the south comprised of only white congregants. Also, if she can start at 45, I'll be damned if I can't get started now!

I better start looking for a movie. I'm going to make the best of this evening because come morning light, I'm back at the grind. Ugh.

Moments like these

It's moments like these that make smashing my skull against a brick wall sound like a relief. Moments where nothing seems settled and everything is up in the air floating around my head. Things are not getting better between Stephen and me. I'm beginning to seriously consider breaking up with him. I have a nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach that there's no recovering from this last bout. Part of me wants to talk about it tonight, but the other part of me is just so damn tired, I just want to let it go. I don't think I have much fight left in me. It's beginning to not be worth it. fuckity fuck fuck fuck!!!!!