ShrinkingViolet

ON SABBATICAL

2006-04-05T05:52:00.000-07:00

Shrinking Violet is on Sabbatical until about June 15, 2006. See you then!

Moving - Vol. 1 Issue 1

2006-03-11T10:16:00.000-08:00

Okay, so the Man, the MRD and I are moving about four hours north of here at the end of May. It's the Packrats v. the Anal Rentitives. My sister-in-law once told me, it takes three big moves to get rid of all the crap that your husband has accumulated over time that is now worthless. And, I'm not talking about sentimental football jerseys. I'm okay with that...it's an excuse to go to the Container Store and by a proper storage box. We're talking about USELESS STUFF. The Man sometimes forgets that he does not live in the Depression Era. He also forgets that he is not mechanically inclined. So our garage has a bunch of stuff that is TRULY USELESS. He cannot fix or repair any of the items. Nor will he have any of them repaired. Let's face it, they've been in the garage for five years without being fixed. What's going to change that now? Here's the top ten list on my hit parade. It might get ugly. We might have to distract him with some kind of hunting trip where he leaves town or get him a shiney new toy. But I swear, these things are going to get thrown out, one way or another.

1. Golf shoes that do not fit.
2. Anchoring rope for a yacht.
3. Broken adding machine.
4. Broken 3-ton television.
5. Clothes that are two sizes too large or small, or have holes or stains.
6. Socks with holes.
7. A ten year old cell phone.
8. 10 years worth of hunting magazines.
9. Tangled fishing line.
10. 27 empty gatorade bottles.

If we can survive this without getting divorced, we can survive anything!

You're Invited

2006-03-08T15:39:00.000-08:00

Shrinking Violet is thinking about throwing herself a shower. In less than 90 days, she, The Man and the MDR will be packing up and moving to a new city. Things are so disorganized, she now refers to herself in the third person. So, here's what she needs:

1. As much motivation as humanly possible. We're talking high school competitive cheerleading motivation levels. No need to wrap it, just send it.

2. Brain cells. She emailed her corporate helpdesk today and asked if they had any in the store room next to the mouses and keyboards. Sadly, they were fresh out.

3. Focus. The kind of laser beam focus brought about by a fist-full of ritalin.

4. Tranquilizer gun from Marlin Perkins on Mutual of Omaha's "Wild Kingdom". You see, lots of things are going on...the Kid is getting to graduate from high school, the in-laws 50th wedding anniversary, me traveling back and forth to the home office, etc. An unfortunate side effect is that the Man's bi-polar is a highly manic right now. I'd like to just give him a tranquilizer used on the average rhino that would put him him down during this transition (except for the graduation and 50th anniversary part). Then wake him up when we are in our new place. But don't poke at him because he'll be cranky!

Okay, so if you could throw yourself a shower, what would you ask for?

Truism?

2006-03-07T11:14:00.000-08:00

"That which does not kill me makes me stronger." All I can say is that shit better be true. Because if that which does not kill me only leads me to ulcers, premature graying, a loss of collagen and elasticity in my skin, and an early death, I'm going to be really pissed.

So Sorry This Is Late

2006-02-26T12:27:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-19T15:46:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-17T09:43:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-14T18:11:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-05T10:15:00.000-08:00

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.

Alive and Kickin'

2006-01-30T18:21:00.000-08:00

Dearies!

I'm somewhere in the great State of Louisiana for the next two weeks. I arrived on Friday and have spent the better part of six hours on various phone calls with multiple help desks resolving a multitude of technology issues. Slowly but surely I'm catching up on all y'alls (the plural of y'all is "all y'alls") blogs. I can give you a brief bullet point update on the last few days:

1. I'd like to give a shout out to God for giving the brains to the person who invented books on tape. It is the must have item for the 10 hour drive.

2. Only tourists drive the speed limit in Louisiana.

3. I'm not sure how I will control the food issue thingy with all this fabulous food.

4. The people here are reallllly nice and I picked up the accent in my first three minutes inside the state line.

5. My parents drove 8 hours to come have dinner with me. They spent the night in a hotel and drove home the next day. In my family, that is perfectly normal. My mother brought me a stack of magazines and my sister sent a bunch of sample size lotions/make up products. MY FAMILY ROCKS!

6. I drove across the Lake Ponchatrain Bridge!!! It is like 23 miles long. It is wild. It feels like you are driving across an ocean or something. Here's a picture I took while driving:

7. The Man is coming in this weekend to spend some time with me - we'll probably eat like tics on a hog. Lovely. We might try our luck at power ball and a few slot machines.

I'll write more later, but my eyes are so tired they are burning.

PS - I guess I shouldn't quit my day job. Look at that picture. But, hey, I took it while driving. Safety first !

So Sorry

2006-01-28T09:45:00.000-08:00

I'm out of town on business. Connectivity issues are huge. Will post as soon as issues are corrected. Thanks!

Shrinking Violet

Benevolent Dictator of the Universe

2006-01-23T16:44:00.000-08:00

In yesterday's "PARADE" magazine, they gave their opinion as to the Top 20 Dictators on Earth. The usual suspects were lined up and their heinous acts against humanity were recounted. I read the list with the usual horror until I got to Number 8. From Turkmenistan comes Saparmurat Niyazov. And yes, he is hideous. Yes, he has fired 15,000 health care workers and replaced most of them with untrained military conscripts. And, yes, he has closed all the hospitals and libraries outside the capital. BUT, he has also outlawed LIP-SYNCHING!!! And frankly, that is a despot I can support!

If I were dictator, I would, at my whim, dismiss all parking laws. You see, when it comes to parking, I am at my most immature. Tantrums come easily to me when putting the car between those two lines. Parking meters make me see red and restricted parking makes me scream "OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!""

When it comes to parking, I am always right. Even when I'm wrong. I AM ALWAYS RIGHT - DO YOU HEAR ME. Today, for example, I had to use a parking garage. The posted speed is 15 mph. That is an appropriate speed to prevent accidents. But this ASSHOLE in a giant truck rode my bumper up SIX levels because he was in SUCH A BIG HURRY. It slowed me to 7 mph because I am just that immature when it comes to parking.

When leaving, there were several blank spaces just feet away from me. But NOOOOOO, the vulture had to have MY space. And his car was stopped DIRECTLY BEHIND MINE. He motions to me "COME ON OUT". And I'm all like "YOU FREAK - I CAN'T PULL OUT IN THAT LIMITED AMOUNT OF SPACE." And he's all like "SURE YOU CAN". Then, I have to spend the next 10 minutes going back and forth inching out of the space so I can clear the car next to me and his at the same time. ALL WHILE THERE IS A BLANK SPACE FIVE FEET AWAY. AAAAAND SO HE DOESN'T HAVE TO GIVE MY SPACE TO THE CAR BEHIND HIM.

Then a woman comes around the corner clearly going at least twice the posted speed while talking on her cell and drinking from her Supersized BurgerKing beverage. Damn near takes off my front end. By now I'm channeling Mr. Niyazov and planning the execution of everyone that I hate in the parking garage.

If you were dictator - what would you do?

Multiple Personality Disorder

2006-01-21T09:28:00.000-08:00

Dear Internet,

My company called for volunteers to go to help out our offices in another state. My boss came to me and asked if I would be willing to go for two weeks. A simple question for most people.....but in Shrinking Violet's brain....a violent storm is a brewing....let's look in...

SV's Pre-Counseling Knee Jerk Reaction in Her Head: "Volunteer??? Of course!!! Help out!!! Of course!!! Take on More Burden??? Of course...because I'm your go-to girl....sacrifice...it is my favorite thing....martyr myself...no one better....look at the scars I've already amassed from flinging myself on others problems....I've spent my LIFE giving up so others can be happier...I'm a PRO at it..IT IS HOW I DEFINE MY OWN SELF WORTH"

SV's Pre-Alanon Brain: "ARE YOU KIDDING???? Who will keep my husband sober and taking his bipolar meds???? Who will make sure he is happy and on the right track? Who will make sure the Earth spins correctly?"

Boss: You can take The Man and The Dog with you.

SV's Pre-Alanon Brain: "THAT'S IT!!! We'll rent a hotel that takes dogs. We'll drive two cars. We'll endure extra expense that we cannot afford. That way, I can monitor the Man and keep him sober and make sure he takes his meds and keep him happy happy happy."

Boss: Or you can go by yourself and treat it like a little respite.

SV's Post-Alanon Brain: "Two weeks away from the mildly retarded dog...SWEET!!! Sign me UP!......Two weeks with out another WWII retrospective on the History Channel...I'M THERE!....TWO WEEKS WITH A THERMOSTAT SET AT ABOVE ARCTIC TEMPERATURES? WHERE DO I SIGN???"

SV's Normal Brain: "I know the first night will be great. The rest of the time, I'll miss the hell out of the dog and the man. If you really need me to go, I'll go. Otherwise, I'll stay."

Actual words spoken by SV: "I'll let you know on Monday".

Here's a picture of part of the Man's Winter Harvest:

Fat and Happy?

2006-01-18T15:17:00.000-08:00

As you know, I have blogged and commented a lot about my love/obsession of food. For the past, oh, year, I guess, it has been getting worse. MUCH WORSE. I joke about it...mostly because it is damn funny. And partly because I didn't know much else what to do. I mean, things were getting wayyyyyyyyy/wwwwweeeiiggghhhh out of hand.

Almost five months ago I stopped smoking. I was very cautious at first and lost about six pounds. But, then, it came all roaring back with the requisite ten pound addition. Then things got really weird. Can I just say "secret eating" and leave it at that?? This rapid addition to my size has rendered my closet useless with the exception of three pair of pants. Black, blue, and blue jean.

So, I went back to my psychiatrist (whom I lovingly refer to as my shrink) for some tuneup work. We reviewed the food thing. She has placed me on Topamax. This drug started off as an anticonvulsant. It was later found to help cluster headaches, bipolars, food disorders, etc., in few years it will probably be found to cure herpes and jock itch. Well, the nickname of this drug is Dopamax. It can cause side effects that include forgetfullness, sleepiness, etc. Today I've been in this post-turkey dinner kind of haze. Quite nice. Especially since I didn't have to eat an entire dutch oven full of turkey and corn bread dressing to get this feeling.

The night time binges have stopped. The other night I spilled some fabulous sauce on my shirt and I didn't even try to suck it off the fabric. But, I think that is the placebo effect right now. I'm not even up to the therapeutic dose right now. I cried last night about how much I wanted a cookie even though I didn't want a cookie (sick I know!). The long and short of it is that I don't know where the roller coaster is going to take me and apparently, some days I won't know why I'm even on the roller coaster. But I'll keep you all posted.

In the mean time, I'll post a picture of challah bread. I finally made this (completely by hand) at Thanksgiving. Yum!

Fun with Tags

2006-01-16T15:54:00.000-08:00

Okay, I'll jump in and do the lastest meme as outlined on Wordgirl's blog. I'll stick with the five as I like that number better than four.

Five Jobs I've Had:

1. Working for a United States Senator - fascinating. Makes all the government classes make sense.

2. Sales at a classic rock radio station - not as much fun as you'd think.

3. Part-time at an independent video store - this was just when the first Blockbuster was going up. It was probably my favorite job.

4. Submarine sandwich place - DELICIOUS!

5. Market research company - lost my voice twice interviewing Mary Kay representatives. Also interviewed doctor's about their opinions of potato chips.

Five Movies I'd Watch Over and Over

1. Rear Window

2. The Shadow of the Thin Man

3. Heathers

4. Blazing Saddles

5. Babette's Feast

Five Places I've Lived: This is too much for my anonymity clause. I will tell you about my neighbors:

1. Mafia don's granddaughter
2. High school football player who moved to a better district to play more. He was 16 and lived in an apartment by himself!
3. Next to a guy and girl that would hurl bicycles and vacuum cleaner parts at each other when they argued.
4. Two white guys that insisted you take your shoes off prior to entering their home.
5. A guy who has "changed his name" and is "running from his family". It took me two seconds on the internet to figure out who he really was.

Five Shows I Love to Watch:

1. GILMORE GIRLS!!!!
2. Law & Order Criminal Intent
3. Dominic Dunne's "Power, Priviledge & Justice"
4. Will & Grace
5. The Closer

Five Websites I visit Daily:

1. WordGirl - quality writing
2. Google Earth
3. Dooce
4. Wells Fargo
5. A socialites life

Five of My Favorite Foods:

1. Mac n Cheese
2. Spaghetti
3. Any kind of casserole
4. Chicken enchiladas
5. Shrimp

Five Places I'd Rather Be Right Now:

1. At the beach, reading a book with some shrimp and a glass of fat bastard.
2. With the Man, at our old deer lease, reading a book with some spaghetti and a glass of fat bastard.
3. With my childhood friend in Orlando, discussing life over enchiladas and a glass of fat bastard.
4. With family doing genealogy research in a foreign country, hopefully they have mac n' cheese.
5. On the couch, with the Man, watching a new episode of Gilmore Girls, with a casserole that has some kind of cheese and breadcrumbs on top and a glass of fat bastard.

Pay it forward!

Vaya Con Dios Part II

2006-01-14T07:11:00.000-08:00

Well, our fabulous friend Joe passed away. Jane is holding up well considering the loss and exhaustion. The Man and I drove yesterday to Joe's hometown for the viewing. The funeral and wake are to start in a few hours.

Joe would have been pleased at the turnout last night. He would have loved to have seen his friends laughing and smiling. And we were all laughing and smiling. I think this is The Man's first Protestant funeral. But no matter, mercifully, green bean casserole transcends religion and race.

Rest in peace my dear friend Joe.

Supremely Disgusted

2006-01-12T15:48:00.000-08:00

Well, I found out today that my name is being "run up the flag pole" for a position within our company but in a different city. This is a uniquely political time in our company, so my work will be considered as much as my personality, team player-ness, etc. That is fine. They will review my time at the company and mull over each and every mistake. That is fine. That is their right. I'm okay with it, no matter what the decision. But, God knows I don't want to be judged by something I said 15 years ago when I first joined the ranks.

Thank God I'm not being nominated for the Supreme Court. I don't care which side of the aisle you vote, what the Senate does to ALL Supreme Court nominees is disgusting and reprehensible. Can you imagine being called on to defend something you said in college??? At 18 years of age I didn't remotely understand the effect that taxation and Gross National Product would have on my future, much less screaming "DON'T BOGART THAT JOINT" in a crowded room.

I can hear it now.....

Senate - Shrinking Violet, did you once call for the assassination of all snarky cafeteria workers at your college dining hall??

SV- Ummmm, maybe. I'm not sure. If it was that time that was the end of the semester and I was still drunk from the night before, there is a possibility.

Senate - Did you once refer to a University police officer as Barney Fife?

SV - he was TOWING my car THE DAY BEFORE GRADUATION!!!! And he wasn't allowed to carry a gun!!! What else would you call him??

Senate - Have you no respect for law enforcement? We see here you had in excess of 50 parking tickets while you were in college. Do you think we should just overlook such egregious behavior? SUCH HUBRIS????

SV - ummmm...yeah...I mean, I paid for the tickets. So, it's all water under the bridge, right? I mean, I got my degree so we're all sympatico....right?

Senate - SV your history is a disgrace to the robe. Consider yourself Borked.

SV - assholes....I didn't want your freakin' robe anyway. Freaks...Hey...Wordgirl...where's my bottle of Fat Bastard???

Noblesse Oblige

2006-01-10T16:26:00.000-08:00

Wow, has it been that many days since I posted? Time flies when you work in Corporate Servitude. That's right folks....tonight's rant is about my job.

I'll start with a little bit of backstory about how I was raised. I was raised by a man who had very specific ideas about how "management" should behave. My Dad worked in a government capacity and he taught me many things that are still with me to this day. Here are some of the highlights:

1. Bosses should NEVER accept birthday gifts from subordinates. It is wrong. If you want to get a card, that is fine. But no subordinate should ever have to spend his/her hard earned money on a boss. Noblesse oblige....look it up.

2. Since his income was provided for by the tax-payer, he said that the vehicle he drove should never raise an eyebrow. For years, they drove the crap American cars that were so prevelant in the 70s.

3. Bosses should never bring their kids stuff to the office to sell. You know, girl scout cookies, wrapping paper, fund-raiser stuff. He thought it was wrong because it made subordinates feel pressure to spend money they couldn't afford to spend. Plus, he believes that the kid should be the one doing the selling, not the parent.

4. You are not going to like everyone in life, and not everyone's gonna like you. Save yourself some tears and get over it now (I was 9 when he told me this).

In 2006, my payscale has changed dramatically. Additionally, my health insurance costs increased dramatically. So, you can imagine my scorn when I found out our CEO bought a Hummer. And, this Ass actually drives it to work. It is wrong on SOOOOOOOO many levels. First off, are you REALLY that insecure???? I mean a Hummer just SCREAMS "LOOK AT ME!!!!!" What, are you trying to prove you are more successful than your brother or your inattentive father??? Why not just splay open your personal psycho-drama in front of everyone??? What's next? HAIRPLUGS????

Ya know, if you wanna have a house in the Hamptons and tootle around in your Hummer, knock yourself out. But if you want to lead "your troops" in corporate America, I suggest you pull your head out of your ass and buy something just a smidge less conspicuous.

And now, a vocabulary lesson for all the CEOs and Upper Management types out there:

gauche
nouveau riche
hubris
penis-extender

Learn 'em! You might end up being a pretty darn good leader.

Yours in the Bond of Servitude

Shrinking Violet

Strange Little Things

2006-01-07T09:35:00.000-08:00

Okay, I'm going to post five strange things about myself. The list of my quirks is so large, culling only five items proved to be a task. Being who I am, I'd like to find the funniest things. And I have to have at least one really gross thing. I don't know what "meme" is though. Where did the term come from? If you know, please advise. And without further delay, my weirdness:

1. Live television makes me so anxiety ridden that I must turn it off. I can barely watch the Oscars. I prefer to watch the Olympic after I know the outcome of the events. I can handle Saturday Night Live and that is about it. Other than that, I will start pacing and get all hot flashy and then completely wig out.

2. I have to smell paper. I will be the one at Barnes & Noble smelling each book and magazine. My enjoyment of a magazine relies on content, imagery and SMELL. It pisses me off when a magazine doesn't smell the right way. Also, if I have nasal congestion and can't smell the magazine, I just have to put it down and look at it later. The Man and The Kid have a great time busting me when they see me sneaking a smell of something.

3. I will pick or pop any zit, scab, cyst, tumor, boil, blood blister and lesion. I will pick other people if they give me half a chance. I can locate something on skin that may not have a zit now, but it will be a zit in 10 years and I have to GET IT OUT NOW. It would be great to work in a dermatologist's office.

4. I don't like it when other people have arguments or conflicts in front of me...unless I'm involved. And no, it's not because I don't like conflict. It's because I think most people suck at arguing/debating. And I can do it better.

5. All the blinds in the house have to be positioned in the same way. If the blinds in the bedroom are open but lowered, then, all the ones in the den half to be the same way. I am utterly distracted if one of the little blind slats is stuck to another and not hanging symmetrically. It doesn't matter if I'm in the room or not, just knowing that they are not identical disturbs me.

This list goes on and on...but a friend of my is a counselor and she says there is a strong pattern of OCD type tendencies in my quirks. Looking at the above, I'd have to say she is correct!

Vaya Con Dios

2006-01-06T10:24:00.000-08:00

On Friday, December 29, we got a voice mail from Joe. It said to please call as soon as we could. I hung up the phone and looked at the Man. He said cautiously "what is it?" I told him it was Joe. I said "this is it. this is the call. you have to call him back now." The Man couldn't do it. Instead, he called Joe the next morning. Joe said "Brother, I'm going into Hospice on Monday." I do not know the rest of the conversation. The Man couldn't stop sobbing long enough to tell me. But, he didn't have to...

On Tuesday, we packed our bags and drove like bats outta hell to my SIL's house. She lives in the same city as Joe and Jane. Jane, Joe's wife, asked if we could visit on Wednesday. Of course we can. Wednesday morning, we drank a truckload of Starbuck's and went. We didn't know what to expect. Jane said "the tumors are everywhere and he won't be able to carry on a conversation."

We arrived to a beautiful facility. Each room is very large and homey. There is an eight foot window seat in his room, along with a wing-back chair and a love seat. There are large book cases and a beautiful amoire. Joe is sleeping. He opens his eyes and he is startled to see me. He says in a barely audible voice "Where is the Man?" I tell him he's outside smoking. He smiles and says something I don't understand. Jane says "he wants to know if you are smoking". I said, "no, not today." He said "how long?" Joe knows that I have quit smoking a million times. He smiles when I say "four months". His eyes shut and he goes wherever the morphine takes him.

We stayed all night. It was horrific and beautiful. I got to say the things that I needed to say to him. The Man got to stand by his best friend during the worst of times. Jane got to take a nap. The doctor put Ritalin in Joe's IV so he could stay alert enough to watch his team in the Rose Bowl. He didn't get to see much, but he got to see his team win in the final two minutes of the game. He smiled. I can't blog about the rest of it. Not right now. But I will.

I will probably post my five strange things tomorrow. I will need comic relief for sure! See you then.

Back Before You Know It...

2006-01-03T16:55:00.000-08:00

Shrinking Violet was called out of town and will be back on Thursday. See you then.

I'm Cranky

2006-01-02T11:15:00.000-08:00

It is January 2, 2006, and I'd like to be able to write some upbeat blog about how nifty everything is and that I've made a very deep and meanful list of resolutions that I will keep no matter what. But, ya know what? I'M CRANKY. I'M CROSS. Like a 4 year old that hasn't had a nap in three days. Yeah, it is that level of CRANKY.

So, let's review what could possibly be generating the crankiness.

First off, I haven't had a cigarette in four months. The crankiness comes and goes with this one.

I'm tired. And, I just bought the office coffee in 1/2 decaff. (altogether now: WHAT WAS I THINKING?).

I am 30 pounds overweight. That is deserving of a 10-part blog.

My house is FILTHY. And for someone who has what my shrink describes as OCD-tendencies, the FILTH is driving me batty.

I lost my biggest client and the Comrades at the Central office (I mean home office) have changed my payment/compensation structure.

Well, I think that covers it. Oh, wait, I need a vacation too.

So, every night God hears something like this: "Can't you cut me some slack on the weight thing? I mean, I've done everything else you've told me and I haven't complained about the hard work. Bipolar AND alcoholic . I mean seriously. Plus, I QUIT SMOKING. Doesn't that mean anything? Can't you just make the weightloss a miracle type thing. MY LIFE IS HARD. Can't weightloss be easy for me????"

And what I hear back is the following: "Hard life? Are you joking me? Let me know when you live in Afghanistan and get back to me."

Ad Nauseum

2005-12-30T13:01:00.000-08:00

That pretty much covers what I think about the whole New Year's Eve spectacle. For me, NYE is like Prom night. EVERY. SINGLE. YEAR. Lots of buildup and not much fun. Of course, it was fun in college. And I did enjoy a few parties in my early 20s. But, the older I get, the less interested I am in socializing with Other People. (There are people I like/love and everyone else is Other People). I stopped going to NYE Parties about 10 years ago. I have gone and had dinner with friends. But, I returned home safe and snug by 10:30 p.m. Thankfully, The Man has the same thoughts about NYE that I have. So we two cranks stay home.

This year presents a new problem - the weather. Where we live it is a balmy 80 degrees with the sun shining. Nice weather on the weekend totally rips me up, and here's why: The tape that runs in my head says that I must be "productive" on the weekends. It starts the moment my eyes open on Saturday morning. If I haven't completed a list full of tasks by noon, I start to freak out. I'm serious now, a full on panic attack about not being productive. Usually, The Man or The Best Friend has to talk me off a ledge.

My favorite NYE and NYD is to have HORRID weather. Cold, rainy and preferably sleeting. Then, there is no guilt about staying in my jammies ALL day and eating NOTHING but black eyed peas. I usually like to have a stockpile of movies, books and magazines, too. Napping and eating blackeyed peas are the only mandatory activities.

So, this year I've got my books, magazines, movies, etc. But, dammit, I've got that tape in my head too. I guess I'll have to enlist a glass of Fat Bastard to help with that.

What all are you doing this weekend?

Dance a Jig!

2005-12-30T06:56:00.000-08:00

Okay, I wanted to post something about New Year's Eve. I guess I'll do that this evening. I just got word that The Kid got a scholarship offer from one of the Universities (sp?) he's interested in attending. It is enough money that combined together would pay for his entire senior year. This is a private school, so that is some SERIOUS CASH!!!

Yippeeeee!!! One day we can retire!!!!!!!

Goofus and Gallant

2005-12-28T14:35:00.000-08:00

This could be a scenario right out of "Highlights" magazine if Goofus was a bipolar alcoholic and Gallant was an 18 year old stepson.

Shrinking Violet: Gallant, did you hear, I'm giving myself allergy shots now.

Gallant: To YOURSELF, that is kind of freaky.

SV: What do you mean, you have been giving allergy shots to your dog since you were 10 years old.

Gallant: There is a big difference between giving it to your dog and giving it to yourself. How do you force yourself to give yourself pain. Where do you inject it?

SV: That's the great thing, you inject into fat not muscle so it doesn't hurt.

Goofus: So, basically, she can give it to herself anywhere. Snarf.

Gallant: OR THE BETTER THING TO SAY, DAD, WOULD BE THAT SHE WILL HAVE A HARD TIME FINDING A PLACE TO INJECT IT BECAUSE SHE DOESN'T HAVE ANY FAT, YOU CAD.

Gosh, is there any wonder I'd take a bullet for that kid?

Laughter is The Best Medicine

2005-12-27T16:13:00.000-08:00

Well, I'm back in the saddle again. The Christmas Holiday went splendidly well. The Man and I put the MRD (mildly retarded dog) into the doggie spa. Then, we drove to my parents' house for the holidays. I did some last minute shopping on Christmas Eve and was blessed with Doris Day Parking all day (front row space).

Then, off the the family party. We do "the Tree" on Christmas Eve with my Mom's side of the family. Various and sundry aunts, uncles, cousins, etc., arrive with food of all kinds and we pig out. We used to all bring all of our gifts and open them all at once. It was fabulous chaos. But, the family got so large that it ended up being to much of a fire hazard to continue. So now, we eat ourselves silly and watch other family members play dominos.

Now, keep in mind that my mother's family is populated by Baptists and a few Pentecostals (sp?). We also have a few preachers. The last two matriarch aunts - 80 and 83 respectively - do not drink. So for some 60 years everyone else has pretended they don't drink either. Well, what we usually do is drink wine before hand and then "hide" when they get there. Silly, I know. This time, my father had just poored a glass of wine when the doorbell rang. It was one of the aunts. She smiled and came in and I laughed at my Dad and said "where's your respect?" He said "Oh, hell, I'm 72 years old, I give up". Well, then everyone just let it all hang out.....cousins were filling what looked like Giant Big Gulp cups full of chardonnay. We stayed late and laughed a lot. So much so that our faces hurt because we smiled and laughed so much. It was the best party in 20 years. The Man, who is a recovering alcoholic, attibutes us to finally "coming out of the closet" and letting the wine "grease the skids".

Anyway, The Man and I drove back to our hometown on Monday. We were both sleepy. Not in an exhausted eye-burning way, but in a cozy flannel pajama kind of way. We picked up the MDR and laughed all the way home about our party. We got unpacked and were still chuckling when I check our voice mail.

I told The Man, "Hey, we got a message from your parents that they are in town. They stopped by to say "hi" but we weren't here. heehehee..They went on down the street and are staying with your sister." The Man said "They drove five hours on the off chance we would be here?" Hahahaha, that's crazy."

hahahahha....we snickered...good times...hahahhaaa...hahehehehehehehhahahaa

ha....ha...huh??????

THEY ARE HERE????

AAAAAACCCCCKKKKKkkkkkkkkkkk.....

And gone is that nice flannel pajama feeling.....it is replaced with panic.

But it still was the best party I've been to in 20 years.

Merry Christmas

2005-12-21T10:55:00.000-08:00

Okay, internet, I'm FREAKISHLY behind at work and at home. I'm going to take off until after Christmas so as to prevent a pre-holiday breakdown.

Take care and enjoy and Merry Christmas!

Shrinking Violet

Twelve Days of Christmas

2005-12-19T14:08:00.000-08:00

On the 12th Day of Christmas My Doggie Ate for Me:

Twelve pounds of birdseed.

Eleven plastic lighters.

Ten rubber bands.

Nine bottle caps.

Eight paper towels.

Seven Benadryl.

Six tube socks.

FIVE LENGTHS OF ROPE.

Four packs of smokes.

Three beer cans.

Two down pillows.

AND THIIIRRTTYY SEVEN CENNNNTTS!

Reason #438 for Marrying The Man

2005-12-17T10:12:00.000-08:00

The Man's gardening skills:

Violet's gardening skills:

Smells Like Teen Spirit

2005-12-15T15:17:00.000-08:00

I went to the high school today to drop off the yearbook ad. The school day ended with final exams at 1:00 pm. The parking lot was a ghost town except for a few parents waiting in the traffic circle. They were snoozing in their cars and waiting...for what, I know not.

Walking into the school, I am blasted with the "Smell of Teen Spirit". Every school smells the same. I'm sure you could walk into a school in Siberia and you would smell socks, paper, stale gym clothes and floor wax. There are a few parents going through the lockers looking for possessions belonging to their children.

I think to myself, will I be the kind of parent that will do that? Not that there is anything wrong with that...it was just a thought. But my point is not about searching lockers for backpacks and purses. My point is that I will not be having my own children. So why would the question pop into my head as "will I"? I also realized when I saw the parents snoozing in their cars that I thought to myself "I'll definitely be that kind of parent".

That happens every now and again for me. Like, somewhere else a parallel universe exists where I will be a parent. Now, Don't Cry for Me Argentina. I've generally made peace with the fact that I will not have my own DNA passed forward to the next generation. But every now and then it just comes up on me. (sorry for the grammar of that sentence, I know of no other way to say it). There will be no diapers, no feedings, no Gymboree. My only child is my stepchild, and trust me, he rocks, but he is 18. I don't feel like I got to have him for long enough. I'm already going through empty nest syndrome.

I have no idea why I posted about that topic. It was just there and I needed to get it out. Now, I can go back to gloating that I've already been through the teaching to drive/driver's ed thing. And, I might have a chance of retiring at a decent age. hahahahhahhahaa. sniff.

All Calls Are Recorded for Quality Assurance

2005-12-13T15:30:00.000-08:00

"You've reached God's Help Desk, for English, press #1. Para Espanol, marque el numero dos."

"Returns, this is St. Matthew, along with me today is St. Mark for training purposes. Can I help you?"

SV - Oh wow, Matthew and Mark....like THE Matthew and Mark? Where's Luke and John.

Mat: Oh, yeah, like we've never heard that one before....anyway, what can we help you with?

SV: I'd like to return my head.

Mat: ID please

SV: Shrinking Violet

Mat: Age of the head?

SV: Forty- ish...

Mat: Does it have all its original brain cells?

SV: uhhhh....probably not

Mark: Is says in the system that she went to college in the 80's...she'll be lucky if she has half of em left.

SV:....hey now, that's not nice..

Mat: What seems to be the problem with the head?

SV: Well, first off, the hair. I got a really bad spin of the genetic dice and ended up with really bad hair.

Mat: The system says your genetic spin was just fine.

Mark: In the notes section, the A/O says that your problem is that you are spectacularly lazy about your hair and that if you would just get up an hour ealier...

Mat: SHHHhhhhhh ...you're not supposed to read all that...

SV: Who is A/O?

Mark: Ummm..the Big Guy...You know... The Alpha and the Omega...so...anyway, the A/O says the hair is problem that will be fixed when you accept, ummmmm, certain realities. What else?

SV: Okay, umm, my forehead looks like a topographical map. The wrinkles are REALLY deep for a 40-ish person...and the sinuses and allergies really make me feel bad.

Mat: The system says that those wrinkles were caused by sunbathing by the owner. Again, not really anything "RETURN" worthy. And, it looks like you have a doctor's appointment on Thursday to resolve the allergy issue...

Mark: And the notes say that any returns regarding wrinkles are just really shallow anyway.

SV: I'M NOT SHALLOW!!!!!

Mat: Ease up now, no yelling. I might have to transfer you over to S&R to speak with St. John.

SV: S&R???

Mark: yeah....St. John is such a hard ass ...he's in charge of Smites and Retribution....it's a better fit if you know what I mean...

Mat: Mark, I've told you a thousand times to stop saying that....Peter is going to overhear and we'll be in a lot of trouble.

Mark: Are you KIDDING? Pete is so deep in denial that he'll never even notice....

Mat: THAT IS NOT FUNNY EITHER....Okay, SV, anything else? You wanna return the head because of the hair, wrinkles and allgeries? Do you understand that there is no guarantee you'll get a brain like your own in the exchange?

SV: WHAT???? What do you mean...

Mat: There is a shortage of brains like yours....so, we'd have to give you what is in overstock. Right now, all we've got is Paris Hilton and Pat Robertson...take your pick.

SV: NOOOOooooooo.....I'm so sorry.... I really don't want to return my head. I can live with the allergies, the wrinkles and the bad hair...It WAS A SHALLOW request...I'm so sorry...can I retract my request.

Mark: Yep....better the devil you know than the devil you don't know..huh?hahahahaa

Mat: You know Mark, that joke isn't any funnier the thousandth time than it was the first. You might need to check in with St. Luke.

SV: What's Luke doing?

Mat: Well, being the only Greek and all, the A/O thought his experience with mythology would be just right in the Muses and Inspiriations Department. Lord knows Mark could use the help. Well, so you want to retract your request?

SV: Ummm yeah, just forget I called.

Mat: You bet. Thanks for calling Returns and God's Help Desk...feel free to call anytime.

I'D Like to Give a Shout Out to God

2005-12-11T06:52:00.000-08:00

God is great, God is good, let us thank him for our food:

1. Donuts
2. Coffee
3. Cheese - including the fake cheese sold on nachos in movie and sport venues.
4. Pasta
5. Bread - including the faaaabulous white bread that has virtually no nutritional value.
6. Bernaise Sauce
7. Jones Diet Black Cherry Soda
8. Potatoes - ALL KINDS
9. Chocolate
10. Captain Crunch with Crunch Berries!

Yea God!!!

Okay - what are some of your favorites?

Perfectionistic Procrastinator

2005-12-10T09:42:00.000-08:00

Hello! Good Saturday to Everyone!

I know I haven't posted in several days. You see, I'm not really a writer. I'm more of an emailer. Every now and then I write something funny. Then, I feel this overwhelming pressure to write something funny again. Something with great timing and pitch perfect. I will stare at the computer until my eyes bleed trying to figure it out. As a result, I end up putting it off for another time. I realize that I'm that way about a lot of things. I've worked in an office for five years without putting anything up on the walls because I couldn't have it just the way I wanted (due to lack of funds).

So this week, I've been "writing" an ad for The Kid's high school yearbook. He is a senior this year. Typically, parents, family and friends place ads in the back of the yearbook congratulationg the graduate. Well, I didn't want to just slap Congratulations in an ad and leave it at that. I'm the Stepmom. I have a very special relationship with The Kid. He's the best thing since sliced bread. So, WHAT DO I WRITE??? Something funny? Something deep and meaningful? Something instructive? GEEZ THE PRESSURE.

As I said before, I'm no writer. I'll never be in the league of say...Wordgirl. Whenever I try to write something serious, it always sounds overwrought and preachy. I'm generally not thought of by most of my friends as sentimental or weepy. But my love for The Kid is so deep and profound that I wanted him to know it. So, my freakout continued through the week. The Ex-Wife called and assured me that the draft I had written was good and truly the way to go. So, I've typed it up and picked out photos and I'll drop it off Monday to the yearbook staff.

So, here it is:

"When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, you become Real" - Margery Williams from "The Velveteen Rabbit"

Dear Kid - Thanks for Making Us Real.

Love Dad and SV

Any thoughts?

Stepmom Chronicles - Part 1

2005-12-06T16:11:00.000-08:00

Five years ago I got married and immediately became part of a blended family. I was really struggling with my new role. I didn't know about blogs back then, so I just wrote little stories and emailed them to friends. This little ditty is what I wrote after attending The Kid's sporting event without my husband:

Okay, so I had delusions that I was the perfect soccer mom. Okay, so it wasn’t really even a soccer game and I’m really only the stepmom. But still, there I was in all my stepmom glory. I arrived at the Lincoln Junior High football game at five minutes before 5:00 p.m., the scheduled kickoff time. In the spirit of the sport, I donned by my navy athletic sweatshirt with the our town name in big block letters. Pinned on the sweatshirt was all of my Booster Parent Flair. I’m wearing blue jeans and Keds. I’m totally a Proud Parent and a great Booster. I am fully-assimilated in my new role.

In my right hand I am carrying two stadium seats – one for me and one for my husband’s ex-wife. (at all of my stepson’s activities, we sit as one family in the stands – my husband, my husband’s ex-wife, her boyfriend and me – we are blended, damn it!). In my left hand was my tote bag with planner and cell phone – I’ll need take notes and give a half-time report to my husband, who is home in bed with the flu.

I take my seat and look for my stepson on the field. I spot him. I try to wave without looking like an idiot. I notice other parents arriving and sitting around me. None of them look familiar, but they all have on their red booster pins. I relax and contemplate an order of nachos. It is ten minutes after 5:00 and still no kickoff and no ex-wife. I begin to worry. The stands are filling and the people around me don’t have “Lincoln” on their red booster pins. Theirs say “Washington”. What is “Washington”?

I look across the football stadium and notice that the fans on the other side are also wearing red. Everyone is wearing red. Then I see them. The ex-wife and her boyfriend are sitting on the other side. I, the totally appropriate stepmom, am sitting on the wrong side of the stadium. I, with my stadium seats, cell phone and booster pin, am in enemy territory. I am a complete moron. I skulk out of the stands and go to the other side. I tell the ex-wife of my adventures and she explains to me how to determine what side your supposed to be sitting on at future games. Then she buys me a Diet Coke. I offer to bring wine to the next game. She advises that Junior High sporting events have a strict “no tolerance” policy for alcohol, tobacco, drugs and guns. Bummer.

The game begins and we are all excited. The Kid draws his first penalty. Then he receives a pass and runs about 20 yards. We are screaming. Then he is tackled….and tackled hard. He does not get up. He still does not get up. The ex-wife is very upset. Thank God. The Kid finally gets up. It seems he only had the wind knocked out of him. Okay, this is not as fun as it was a little while ago. They keep him out of the came for about 2 minutes and then put him back in to catch another pass. He gets tackled again and apparently I scream a little to loudly “LET HIM GO YOU ASSHOLE”. People look at me and are clearly thinking “she must be new - she doesn’t know about the no tolerance policy for badmouthing other players”. Quickly, I try to think of something more politically correct to call the ape-like 7th grader that continues to tackle my stepson.

The game mercifully ends about an hour later. We lose. But The Kid rocks. He played offense and defense. After the game, we go down to talk to him and congratulate him on his performance. The ex-wife introduces me to more Lincoln parents. In my excitement, I shout to The Kid, “Hey, we finally got electricity at the house!!!!” The Kid, knowing that I’m referring to our recent electrical problems, gives me the thumbs up. The Lincoln parents look at me like I just offered up Spam and Moon Pies for dinner. Oh well, such is life for the ultimate Booster Stepmom.

Tonight, Lincoln Junior High Fundraiser. There will be a Karaoke booth…..hmmmm….I wonder what the tolerance policy is….?

Better Living Through Pharmaceuticals

2005-12-05T14:14:00.000-08:00

Hello!

Sorry I didn't post yesterday. Recently, I went to the doctor and he said I can't take Claritin, Benadryl or Afrin for at least seven days. I'm having that allergy scratch test so I can go back on shots. Benadryl and Claritin screw up the test. I can't have Afrin just because I've been snorting too long. Now, I have so much pressure in my head I'm sure it is affecting barometric readings at our local weather station. I feel like CRAP.

You see, I'm a big fan of Better Living Through Pharmaceuticals. It is a belief system for me....something like politics or religion for other people. The doctor says "take of these a day and you will not get pregnant." WHOOPPEEEE...."take one of these a day and it will clear that cholesterol out right quick" HOT DAMN...."take a Claritin once a day and you will breath easier." I'M THERE!!!

These drugs do not require that I take any responsibility for myself. A pill does all the work for me. (I'm going to leave out Prozac since personal responsibility has nothing to do with depression). If I want to continue my eating habits, BULLY FOR ME!!! Lipitor will correct that. I don't want to demand that our dog be sent somewhere else to live....NO PROBLEM. Claritin will cure that marital discord in a jiffy.

So, I called in sick to work. I always feel guilty when I'm not productive. HIDEOUSLY GUILTY. I have to do laundry or something to make the guilt go away. Finally, however, I gave myself a break. I sit down to watch daytime TV. "Alias" is on in syndication. Cool. Love that show. Then, on comes Oprah. And the God came down from the heavens to SMITE me for staying home.....MARIAH CAREY IS ON THE SHOW. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO...

Sadly, I have no access to Thorazine.

I'M SOOOO NOT KIDDING

2005-12-03T08:53:00.000-08:00

SV: "Honey, would you put away the leftover pizza?"

The Man: "Sure, I'll do it right now."

Chewables

2005-12-02T09:46:00.000-08:00

Hats off to Todd Rundgren! I've changed his lyrics ever-so-slightly to fit my mood:

"I don't want to work...I want to bang on my blog all day!"

Happy Friday everyone!

WMD

2005-12-01T16:58:00.000-08:00

So, after having been married for over five years and parenting a step-son, I've come to many conclusions. Mind you, these are not merely theories. These are tried and true scientific method type conclusions. You know, UNIVERSAL TRUTHS.

As a result of these UNIVERSAL TRUTHS, I have determined why no WMD (weapons of mass destruction) were found by UN Inspectors and US military in Iraq. See if you answer correctly:

1. Because George Bush was acting on flawed intelligence.
2. Because George Bush was lying.
3. Because all the WMD were moved to Syria.
4. None of the Above.

If you guessed 1, 2 or 3, I certainly understand why. BUT YOU ARE WRONG. It is #4 none of the above!!! The reason that WMD were not found is because the UN and the US did not employ the ultimate tool for finding them:

U.T.E.R.U.S. - Universal Tracking, Extraction & Recovery of Unlimited Stuff.

You may not be aware, dear reader, that the U.T.E.R.U.S. system is a PROVEN locater of all manner of detritus - big and small. When thinking about UN/US inspectors, I can't help but invision Wyle E. Coyote. Wyle E. is out there looking for a building that says "ACME WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION - TOP SECRET - ENTER HERE". Meanwhile, Roadrunner knows perfectly well that if something is not where it SHOULD be than it is certainly is where it SHOULD NOT be. I'm convinced Roadrunner utilized the U.T.E.R.U.S. system.

Case in point, the wife of a cheating asswipe. Those hotel receipts will not be labeled "HOTEL RECEIPTS THAT WERE USED WHILE VISITING MY ACTION ON THE SIDE". They will be somewhere else. She will find them and the jig is up.

Or, the mother of teenagers. Yes, while doing laundry, those with the U.T.E.R.U.S. system will find the odd-looking seed in the pocket of the jeans. The mother is able to identify that this is not in fact your science project, but instead, is a baby censimilla plant. And no, don't even try and tell her you were holding it for a friend.

In my case, it became abundently clear with my wonderful stepson. Known hereafter as "The Kid". He comes to me and says "I can't find my camoflauge hunting chair". I walk to his bedroom and in the MIDDLE of the floor is a camoflauge hunting chair. I picked it up and said "DO YOU MEAN THIS THING?" He guffawed and said "obviously the camoflauge was working."

Or, my co-worker (a former marine), who asks if I've had a problem with the cleaning staff stealing my cds out of my radio. I answer in the negative and ask what of his is missing. He says his dvds that were in his filing cabinet. He says "I already looked in the file cabinet and they are not there". I said "did you look where they SHOULD NOT be? Like, behind the file cabinet drawer or in the dvd player?" He says, hesitantly, "yes". I know he has not employed the U.T.E.R.U.S. system. I pull the file cabinet drawer out and LO AND BEHOLD, the missing dvds. He mistakenly employed the PENIS Search system which is seriously outdated and only worth scrap value on today's market.

So when you read the newspaper about WMD, you will know, that women were not out there looking....otherwise we would have found them AND OSAMA BIN LADEN on the first day we looked for them.

Hunting

2005-11-30T12:30:00.000-08:00

I'm at work and trying desperately to stay "on track". Someone's car alarm in the parking lot has been going off and on all day. I would like to go out and shoot the car. There should be an open season on car alarms. If the car alarm continues to sound after 10 minutes, anyone can shoot it.

How I Chose My Name

2005-11-29T15:03:00.000-08:00

So, Shrinking Violet is the name I chose for my blog. Why, you ask? Well, there is a long story and a short story.

Short Story: My employer sent me to a training class called "Emotional Self Control". My friends at work laughed so hard they spit coffee through their collective noses. They called it my "Shrinking Violet" Class.

Long Story: I grew up in a household where brutal truth (both dishing it out and taking it) was like currency. Form ALWAYS followed function. (Now, my siblings may have a different perspective. As these things go, I have found that each child appears to be raised by slightly different parents. And for all the Strunk & White folks out there, I'm using the term "raised" because "reared" sounds pretentious." Teachers referring to me as "acid mouth" or "razor tongue" were not uncommon. My friends always laughed at the rants I would go on about various people or topics. Upon hearing of my latest tirade, my father would always ask "is it true?" Thus my behavior was reinforced.

Fast forward through the years to my professional life. I've sent emails that have shot round the world and ended up being read aloud on the corporate jet. But, every time, although highly insubordinate and inappropriate, I'm never fired. Instead, I'm sent to a class on self control.

Later I was put on Prozac which decreased the anger management issues by about 50%. Later still I found myself married to a bipolar/alcoholic. Joining Al-Anon as a support group reduced my anger and desire to verbally eviscerate people. But every now and then, everyone needs a good rant. So here I am, Internet, medicated, filtered, but not completely lobotomized. I'm ready to blog.

Hello Internet

2005-11-29T09:25:00.000-08:00

Hello!

I've just started this blog. I'm on a learning curve so be patient. Will write more later.

Shrinking Violet