So Sorry This Is Late

Hey Gang!

Remember when I said my name had been sent up the corporate flagpole for consideration of a new position? Well, it was considered while I was in Louisiana. I found out while I was in Cajun Country that my name had been accepted. As a result, I was sent to the Home Office last week to start training for my new position. I can't tell you how exciting it has been.

It is a breath of fresh air. I'm using my brain all over again. It is like God is saying that he has noticed my 10 years of hard work and is giving me an "atta boy" for the effort!

I'm sorry I have been delinquent in blogging. I've been working pretty much non-stop. When not working, I've been shopping for a "formal gown" for a "formal ball". Geez, internet, it has been years since I went to something "black tie". I have to say that shopping for this event has been about as pleasant as shopping for a swimsuit. But, the sales were good this time and no one got injured. I look a little like Morticia Adams in my new dress but I came in under budget. And since The Man, The MDR and I will be moving in June, these people really won't be seeing me again.

Ouch....moving in June...I don't even want to think about that yet....

Well, I'd better go start applying the spackle (makeup) and rubber cement (hair product) for tonight's event!

Have a great Sunday evening and I'll try to blog more!

Bringing Up Baby

I think my doggie and I have finally bonded. While the Man was away this weekend, we were forced to come to terms with our relationship. Frankly, a lot of the things I thought to myself this weekend reminded me of what I frequently hear from parents of newly mobile children...

1. "I swear, I couldn't even find time to shower without her crying."

2. "She follows me around like a shadow....if I stop to quickly her nose would go up my butt."

3. "I'm all touched out....I don't want to hug or be hugged.....I've been clung to all day."

4. "I THOUGHT I baby-proofed everything....somehow she found it."

5. "She really just needs a nap."

The dog park is really no different than PTA or booster club meetings. All the "knowing" parents stand around and talk about getting their dogs in to the "right" training course and the best "kennel".

It was just like a scene out of Steve Martin's "Parenthood". There were all the Rick Moranis-type parents talking about training concepts and their dogs were working hard on learning new tricks. Meanwhile, my dog has the bucket on her head and is ramming her head into a tree. She's been to the "free" beginner's class three times.

But that's okay. When we take our afternoon nap. She lies on the floor beside me and I can hear her sigh. When I roll over to get more comfortable, so does she. And when I get up to get a drink of water, so does she. Like mother, like daughter.

We're gonna be just fine.

Sweetness and Light

The Man had to return to his hometown for a family funeral. Before leaving, he left me a list of instructions for the care and feeding of the MRD. He also went through "drills" with me regarding her routine, her likes, dislikes, turn-on's, turn-off's.....you get the idea. I'm surprised I was not regaled with interpretive dance instructions in the parking lot just before he drove off.....you would think the Shrinking Violet was the one that rode the short bus to school.

All went well last evening as Miss Sweetness and Light played in the doggie park for an hour with her friends. She did not poop, but she ran and played nicely with others. We didn't have to leave until my allergies and asthma were causing lung failure. Then I walked her again at 10:00 p.m. Still no poop. I rationalized that she hadn't eaten much since The Man left and said a quick prayer that she would not poop in her kennel during the night.

Violet was sleeping like the dead, if the dead had access to Ambien, when at 6:00 a.m., Miss Thang began her morning vocalization practice. She starts with scales and then effortlessly moves to whining. She means business if she has to resort to barking to get your butt out of bed. Out we go into the cold morning. Clearly, the weatherman was right and the cold front had come in during the night. It was an arctic 41 degrees. And while I'm sure all you bloggers up north are getting a chuckle, I was dressing so as not to get frostbite while walking Miss Thang.

Immediately, she noticed a sprinkler head was broken and water was gurgling out into the parking lot. This was chastised with a growl and bark as appropriate. She then identified IED that was most certainly left by a terrorist. This required growling, sitting, pointing, barking and pulling my finger out of it's socket by tugging on the leash with freakish speed and strength. Upon inspection, she decided that Dasani water bottles were not a threat. Then the poor men jogging 3000 yards away had to be reminded that this was her turf with a solid round of barking that woke up the rest of the building. BUT STILL NO POOP. I'm begging her, like one the blogger's who pretended to call her daughter's poop on the phone, to PLEASE POOP, so that The Man will know I am not a failure.

Alas, it was not to be. Not until 9:00 a.m. this morning after numerous treats and pets and hugs did she produce the desired item. If she were a human child she would be a brat. I would have no control....I'd be one of those women that gets beaten by their own child.

But, dang is she cute! And those ears are still just hilarious. How could you get mad at a face like that?

Well, it is time for her noon walk. A mother's work is never done!

Late to Bed....Early to Rise

I left Louisiana on Friday, February 10. I am a changed person. I spent a mere two weeks in Louisiana and in a sense, I have been broken. I have discovered that fundamental things about me have changed. Things that were as true to me as my eye color. Becoming aware of the changes has sent me into a big bout of depression. As Holley Golightly refers to them in "Breakfast at Tiffany's"...."a case of the mean reds."

First, and most lighthearted, I'm no longer a "light packer". In fact, I've never had to pack to go anywhere for two weeks in my whole life (except leaving to go to college). I've never been to Europe or anywhere like that. I've never been on lengthy business trips. I'm forty years old and I had to drive and work somewhere for two weeks. I packed my car to the gills. This includes dvds, magazines, books, two handguns and every form of anti-diahhreal manufactured. But, I did not think to bring quarters for the laundry. I did not bring enough hangers. I think being forty and realizing I haven't really been anywhere for two weeks was kind of eye-opening.

Second, I am a good corporate team player. This is a bit startling to me. For so long I was considered a bit of a loose canon. I've never really thought I cared too much about the "corporate image". But, when I found myself surrounded by a profound level of incompetence....not because the people are stupid but because they have not been given the appropriate training.....my reaction was a deep sense of shame and embarrassment for my company. I wanted nothing more than to give these people the training they were desperate for...I felt like Shirley McClaine (sp?)....instead of "GIVE MY DAUGHTER THE DRUGS"......I wanted to say "GIVE THESE PEOPLE SOME HELP!!!!!!" .....I never thought I cared. Maybe I'm not a curmudgeon anymore?

And the thing that bothered me the most is that I realized I am no longer a loner. As a child, I played a lot by myself. As an adult, I lived a long time by myself and didn't marry until I was 35 years old. From the age of 30 to 35 I was as happy as a pig in slop living alone. I could not comprehend people that didn't enjoy living alone. I enjoyed eating out by myself and going to the movies solo. (I still do). Friends whose marriages were on the rocks would cry about the prospect of being alone - and I would think to myself - YIPPPEE!!! It is going to be great!!! Well, over the past five years, The Man has apparently grown on me....bipolar/alcoholism and all. After two weeks without him, I was shot. Two weeks without The Man, the Mildly Retarded Dog and our humble abode and I was a basket case. My routine was gone. I could not fly by the seat of my pants. I couldn't go with the flow. I was Rainman and Wopner was at 3:00 but the TV in my hotel room didn't get that channel. I ran out of Prozac on Wednesday. By Friday, I was barely hanging on to sanity. Thumb-sucking was not out of the realm of my consideration.

The Man suggested that I break up the driving trip again so as not to have to spend 100 hours in the car all at once. I refused. I could not be swayed. I would drive it all in one sitting because I HAD TO COME HOME. NO ONE UNDERSTOOD HOW BADLY I NEEDED TO COME HOME. I am forty and I am no longer FLEXIBLE - I AM RIGID in my need for routine, for my friends and my family, for my nest, for My Man and My MRD.

So, I'm home. The Prozac has been re-filled. I have stopped crying. I'm making peace with the fact that I'm not a loner. I know this may seem disjointed and that these realizations are not a big deal. It may seem disorganized. But, that is just what my brain looks like right now. I'll blog it all out over the next few days. Sorry that I've been too depressed to blog. Here are two interesting photos. One is a pic of the moon on my way TO work. The other is the moon on my way home FROM work.

Superbowl Sunday

Sorry, but I can't think of a witty title today. I'm very tired. I really can't explain why. I've been in Louisana for 10 days. I work all day, then come back to the hotel and essentially get in bed and stay there until morning. It could be that I'm not wearing nicotine patches anymore. Those things do give you a bit of a "boost" each day. So, that might explain the lethargy. Or, it could be that I'm really exhausted from not sleeping well at home and I just have the opportunity to crash here.

It's really strange because my hotel room is just as tired as I am. Not dirty....but really, really, tired. This hotel is only about two years old. But it has been host to a multitude of Katrina families for the last five months. This particular room is meant to sleep two at most. I'm quite sure a family of six to ten were here before me. I'm not complaining. Those people need a place to lay their heads. But my room talks to me at night. It says stuff like this.....

"I'm so tired....I wan't meant for this....look at my pillows...mere wisps of pillows....barely thicker than the cases that cover them...the electrical outlets gave out the 300th time a child stuck a toy in them...

I was meant for the business traveler...you know...just basically someone who works on a laptop and then leaves to go to meetings....I wasn't really meant to be lived in...1/2 the lamps in the suite no longer work.....the tv that swivels no longer gets cable on most of the channels because its been swiveled way too much...the phone cord is coming unravelled and the wires exposed....I mean...who ACTUALLY uses the phone in their room anyway.....the carpet is coming up in the doorway.....

And, the staff, ....look at the....they look like they've been to hell and back....still as friendly as ever....never has their been staff (INCLUDING MAIDS) that have been any nicer...but GOD they need a rest....they don't even bother to shut, much less lock, the continental breakfast storage room....if you want it...go get it......

Bless this place...and these people. They are so tired. But they are so nice and friendly and helpful to this visitor even in the face of all of their problems. I've had no choice but to be nice, friendly and helpful right back at 'em.