Where's the fire?

Thanks for updating, kiddies.

I really don't have anything to say this morning except it's like 30 out (like 0 to you, Elizabeth) and I left my "coat" at work and I am sick of scraping ice with no gloves and this morning my fire alarm went off just as I was getting out of the shower. That was fun. Nekkid me jumping up and down waving an Eddie Bauer catalog under the smoke detector to make it stop because there were no obvious flames. Much like a car alarm, nobody ran out of the other apartments to see what was wrong (my apartment has one of those universal alarms that I assume go to everyone's apartment in the event of peril). Of course, neither did I. You know, in case it was someone esle's apartment that was on fire.

It's wierd because it couldn't have been steam from the shower (well, it could have been). I left my thermostat at like 60 last night so when I got up this morning the fire was going (my heat source is a gas fireplace) so I wonder if that was it. Needless to say I moved it back to like 50 after the keening wail from the alarm stopped. I am doomed to freeze to death in this apartment I guess.

Lastly, before I go finish my bathroom get-ready process, yesterday I was out scraping the ice and snow off my car before work and my next door neighbor came out to her car and said, You're back! I just looked at her. Back? And she said, you've been gone a long time, haven't you? I haven't been "gone" since September. I guess I really AM turning into a hermit.

I hope the car starts this morning. It's flipping COLD.

You jump, I jump

Kind of a shitty weekend.

Dinner was fine, the restaurant was packed Thursday night. I got home right about 8:05pm. Went to bed at a decent hour and woke up at a decent hour as well. Showered and had to be at Shelia's to watch the game at 12n, but also on Thursday I screwed up my PIN for my ATM card so I had to swing by the bank to get it reset. Those enormous ATMs at the 7-11s now just suck - I made so many attempts to input my PIN (forgot it once, thought I got it right after that, but apparently I did not) that finally it gave up and the bank shut me down. This is good though - security and all that.

The game sucked and I started feeling really sick, had a minor emergency and went home right at the beginning of the 4th quarter. It was a crappy game and I was thinking that perhaps that was what was making me feel like shit but really, it wasn't, because even after I got over it, I still felt like shit and ended up napping a lot of the afternoon away.

Later Becky called and convinced me to come over, even though I felt like shit I figured I would do it, and of course got home at 4am, which sucks in itself, because I was thinking how late I would end up getting up on Saturday. By Saturday I was not feeling any better, and was pretty much fluish all day. Had to go to the store at some point so I pushed it off until around 7:30 (cover of darkness - probably a good thing considering I felt and looked horrid) then came home and watched "Titanic" on regular cable. I love that movie.

I noticed too that there has been some lagging in other people's blogs. I hope this is not a trend or anything because though I was sick I still was looking for something to read. Hopefully seeing that I have updated will inspire some of you. I'm not yelling at you or anything.

Anyway, so here I sit with stuff to do (Target run, tanning, etc) and I have just showered and it's rainy out and the Browns play the Bungles and I am kind of bummed because for all the time off, it has been sort of a wasted weekend. I don't know that I am THAT bummed though. But at least I feel a little bit better.

Happy Thanksgiving ~

Happy Turkey Day to my US-born readers. To all others, Happy Thursday.

This is the first Thanksgiving I have been here in the US since like 2002 I think. Maybe 2003. My company is not open on Friday, which may seem normal to you all, but I always used to have to work Friday in the past, before I worked here. It was always a pretty quiet day in escrow because other companies were closed and nobody expected us to be open. Today I am thankful for being able to sleep until 7am for four days in a row.

Tomorrow is a traditional day in US culture - Black Friday. I just heard them say on Good Morning America that it's called Black Friday as it allows the retailers to stay in the black - I just assumed it was because 4 BILLION SHOPPERS will descend upon the malls and big-box stores at some unGodly hour to buy socks and iPods for lo-lo prices. As if saving 50% on last year's crap is worth elbows in the face and screaming (not necessarily from the ill-behaved kids) and clawing and hissing and spitting... As you can see, this is not a tradition I have ever upheld. As a matter of fact, I better not need anything from the mall until January because I simply will not venture forth for all of December. Except for Target, you know, because Elizabeth will need sugar-free Koolaid.

Another tradition this day is "Alice's Restaurant". I remember Thanksgiving 1994 (right?) that I spent with SS at her folks' Christmas tree farm in Ohio (she links to it in her blog, Note2Self, which I link to so after you're done reading this, go look). Aside from being probably my favorite Thanksgiving on record, it was also the first time I heard that this Arlo classic is generally played every Thanksgiving at 12n (the problem I am having is that I can't figure out where it is being played here locally. I guess KGON but it doesn't really tell me on their website). I was not aware of this because my parents were born in the '20s and consequently my dad liked to give the hippies a bunch of shit. Plus he was in World War II so the hippies protesting the Vietnam War were not among his favorites. It's probably a good thing that I waded through childhood in some sort of oblivion because these days I find I am overly opinionated and I probably would have been punished severely if I was like this at 8.

My Place is having a big turkey dinner tonight, lots of people made reservations, it should be fun (exhausting). Myself, I am going to dinner with my mom and Tom, but before that I am supposed to go over to Skip and Sue's since I haven't seen or talked to them really in 2 years. They are far too nice to me. Correspondence oddly enough is not a real strong point for me.

So Happy Thanksgiving to all that care. This time 2 years ago I was getting ready to move away. Look how much has changed! I think that's good, for me. So I am thankful for that.

Reaction to recent news received:

AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHA!



I wish them every happiness...

That corn thing

I just tried to send an email to Janie and for some reason Yahoo mail is doing some funky stuff so I am not sure if she got it or not, but in it I told her I would post the corn thingy recipe. So here you go (quick note - unless you tell me this is a secret family recipe, I will share any recipe someone gives me. If it is truly deemed a secret family recipe and for some reason you give it to me or I take a picture of it with my camera phone when you aren't looking, don't worry, I am good about not sharing it. Especially when I can't read the picture from my camera phone. Janet.).

Corn casserole (I really don't know what it's called)

16 oz can of corn - drained
16 oz can of creamed corn
1 cup sour cream
1 stick of butter or margarine, melted
1 box of Jiffy corn muffin mix (apparently it HAS to be Jiffy)

Mix all ingredients together and pour into a greased casserole. Bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes.

Note: Christine bakes it for I think 35 minutes and then sprinkles cheddar cheese over it and then bakes it the rest of the way. I like it with the cheese but if you are single and have this thing in your fridge for a few days and are sort of picking at it, the cheese thing gets to be a bit much. I think when I make it I will omit the cheese. All that sweet corn goodness is just fine on its own.

Enjoy!

Can I just say something?

You might be seeing a trend in the last couple of posts... I guess I have got to learn how to shine some people on. I got a piece of mail yesterday that made my evening. Made it gloomy. I don't know WHY I let this particular person get to me the way I do. Perhaps it is because I was duped for roughly five years into thinking this person was a true friend (even termed "best" friend for a while there), was genuine, was honest, had a good moral structure. I think it bothers me now the most to know that after so long I was so wrong. I don't mind being wrong (when it happens) but this was a pretty emotional connection and in the end I wasted a lot of energy on it. Like I am now, actually. I need to get there - the place where I stop wasting my energy on her.

I am going to choose my words carefully now, because I do not want to stereotype and/or talk in generalities. But you know the kind of person who claims to be a Christian (or name the religion, any one will apply I think), shows the outside world a side that appears honest and good and moral, and then when no one is looking turns into a selfish, greedy (I might as well throw in slutty because that applies in this particular experience), dishonest jerk. I think we have all probably run into someone like that in varying degrees. I try not to be too suspicious when I meet someone under the guise of friendship, but after having been snowed for a number of years, it bothers me that I am almost being forced to question the motives of any one I might potentially befriend. Sounds sort of extreme, doesn't it? Well, you clearly have not run into Snow White here. Beware. She's a fraud.

Convince me that karma will get her in the end. It is the only thing I have to hold on to. The worst emotion that I can feel toward a person is pity, and I really, really pity her. She is in for so much disappointment, the worst kind of disappointment - emotional disappointment. I don't know if all religions have the same sort of idea as Catholicism, where you screw up and go to confession and do your penance and walk out with a clean slate, but isn't it all pretty relative? I don't believe in the sacrement of confession unless you're REALLY REALLY serious - and if that is the case, then you wouldn't do the thing you had to confess to begin with again. I think this person and many like her hide behind their religion, thinking that since they are of a (any) particular faith, they do not need to live a decent life spiritually, that it is predisposed no matter what they do, and that their actions in their daily life are offset by the fact they worship their God weekly. I just don't think that that is what God had in mind.

Okay. So it is no longer Friday night, or Saturday, and I am sort of over the thing I got in the mail, but the situation continues to haunt me when I spend time alone with my thoughts. I just had to get it out. Hopefully I will be done with it soon.

As for the weekend, I started this thing Saturday morning but didn't finish it, but I did nothing outside of domestic chores yesterday, and now it is Sunday morning and I NEED to get to the store to do some grocery shopping for a Food Day on Wednesday. It's raining though. I also need to hit Target sometime between now and, well, NOW, because after today the shopping shit will probably hit the fan due to the impending holiday season.

Not much else going on, Ducks are in the toilet, Thanksgiving is coming (not a huge Thanksgiving fan), kinda dead at work, bought a NEW camera (I'm such a jerk)... that's about all I got. Need to snap out of my mini-funk and start writing about stuff you WANT to read. Yeah okay, go to the store...

Just a thought about friends

I may have mentioned it before, but I have sort of been meaning to blog specifically about this particular subject. Before I moved away, I had a group of friends that I hung out with, some were roommates in various stages, others just friends I had had for a number of years. We went out in varied groups, sometimes everyone, sometimes just a few together. Right before I left they threw a pretty big party for me at a local dance club (it wasn't for dancing while we were there) (I am not a big dancer). There were quite a few people there, and it was great fun, and afterward I was pretty ready to move.

While in Cancun living my adventure, I kept in contact with a lot of people - not regularly or daily or anything like that, but enough. Their lives go on and so did mine so it was no big deal at all. I never thought about it. Then when I came back, I made some lame attempts to meet up with a few of them, but nothing really major. I came back to having to find a job and a place to live and deal with the cold and get my car ready and all that crap. I was busy. Plus I was used to going out via taxi all the time - the thought of going out in a CAR to DRINK was just stupid. I mean, around here it's REALLY stupid. And I knew that before I left, but upon my return it wasn't even worth thinking about.

Consequently, the friends I used to hang out with 2 years ago are pretty much not my friends anymore (well, one or two maybe are) (Now I joke about that going away party saying it was was actually for them). I rarely go out at night, haven't drank but a handful of times (when I am not vacationing in Cancun), and am rapidly depleting my Netflix list. I am SO okay with that. So much has changed in SO little time, and it's funny how I have always known that you can never go back, but am still surprised at how MUCH changed in a little over one year.

Now the friends that I cherish the most live 3000 miles away from me. I have seen them less and talk to them more. I think we have more in common and then I can't figure out what that is. Someone told me fairly recently after I got back that I had changed, that I was soooo different - I don't think I am, but you know what they say about perception.

I know my priorities have shifted and I think that's a good thing. I get some grief about it from some people, but geez who cares. I can't even count how many people who asked me "How was it?" then grew increasingly more uncomfortable as the response extended beyond one sentence. It's like asking "How are you?" and not wanting anything more than "Fine" as a response. I don't expect much from coworkers - but I expect a lot more from people I considered to be my friends.

Very recently, however, one of those friends approached me with a situation that was very intricate and that she has been dealing with for a long while now. In explaining it to me, an effort to sort of bring me up to speed, she predisclosed that she didn't want me to think that she was rushing her solution to the situation, and that she didn't want me to think, I guess, badly about the decision made. I told her, You know, I haven't talked to you in a long time, and I have no idea what you have been going through in the last 2 years, so how can I judge the situation at all, let alone the outcome. I told her that if and when she needed, I would be there for her. That's what friends do for friends, no matter what has passed. That's what I want - not that I always get it, but we shouldn't do things just for the anticipation of what we might get in return.

So in closing, I guess perhaps I have changed, in that my expectations are less, my priorities are better, and that change has made me into the kind of person that most of the people I knew before my move to Cancun don't really like to hang around with. If that is the case, then I don't really want to hang around with them, either.

Reason #178 why I don't belong here

So yesterday in my running around, I had to pick up some grocery-related items at the Fred Meyer. I like the Fred Meyer for its convenience to home and for the fact that they have those self-check out lines. Those things rock. And I bet they come as a relief to teenagers buying condoms and home-pregnancy tests.

Anyway, I cruise on over to the Fred Meyer and get my stuff, and chose this time to go through a regular line. I had a cart, and the line to the self servers was actually kind of out of control - past the point of convenience. The line I got in was short, so what the hell. It gets to be my turn, and I immediately and politely tell the checker that I need cigarettes. Let me throw a little sidebar in here if I may.

I know I shouldn't be smoking so whatever, but cigarettes are no longer kept behind the checker in most of the supermarkets around here. You have to ask for them, I find, at the beginning of the situation and then they run and get them from Customer Service or someplace. Even in the self checks you ask the guy and he unlocks the case that is right there. I myself have never had to go get them - because after all, I don't know where they are.

Okay. So I tell the checker this, and she says to me, "Can you run over to Customer Service and get them and I will ring them up?" I stared at her. I said, "Will he give them to me? I mean, will he believe me?" And she said, "Sure." So, miffed, I push my empty cart a bit out of my way (but not REALLY far out, just enough to get out) and walk over to the Customer Service desk.

Now, at the Fred Meyer, that desk is for returns and exchanges and buying lottery tickets and cigarettes and all manner of Customer Service related transactions. The line at this point was 3 people deep, all with huge carts full of stuff. I loitered for just a minute, thinking if I stepped sort of up to him and said something he would toss me the smokes. Not only did he not see me nor look in my direction, in the middle of his dealing with some lady, he walked over to the phone and made a phone call (it could have been related to that transaction). His eyes did not roam and I wasn't going to be rude and step in front of the people ahead of me, so I went back to the checkout line.

I was irritated at this point because clearly the checker in her uniform and her co-worker-y-ness with the CS Desk guy would have been able to get his attention and easily grab the cigarettes. When I got back to my check out line, she was almost done with my stuff. I told her, "The line was forever and he was on the phone so I will just get them somewhere else I guess." She shrugs her shoulders. Bitch. I pay, and she leaves the bags on the counter instead of putting them in my cart. It's not a big deal but it's a bunch of little deals that are starting to piss me off. If I was at Cub Foods (bag-your-own place) or even in the self-check line I would be doing this myself anyway, but you know what? I wasn't! I am at the Fred Meyer in the full service check out line so, bitch, do your fucking job! I slammed the grocery bags into the cart, glaring at her the whole time, and then decided to go wait in the Customer Service Desk line.

There were now two people ahead of me - one lady at the desk and another with a cart full of those plastic drawer thingies I used to put my chonies in in Cancun. The guy was still on the phone. As I was waiting, some flipping meth-head comes up and stands in line behind me. Now I know Fred Meyer had nothing to do with this, but it just adds to the growing irritation level. This meth-head starts snorting and coughing and hocking up loogies that aren't there and scratching himself and clearing his throat and I mean this is CONSTANT. I am near puking at this point because I never knew you could do so much with phlegm. Seriously it was foul. I am sort of creeping closer and closer to Plastic Bin Lady but he creeps right along with me (you know how meth makes you impatient and jittery) (you don't? Well, come to the Meth Capital of the United States! You'll learn quickly). I am seriously gagging now, and have this look of just disgust on my face, and FINALLY (I mean like 10 minutes, no lie, it was almost forever) it's my turn. I coldly tell him my cigarette order and I am out of there within 50 seconds, shoving my cart past the stupid bitch at my old check out line and just disgusted with the lack of service and the meth-heads and the crap that I just had to go through in my local Fred Meyer.

You may think this is a senseless and baseless rant, and that's fine (don't make me remind you again who's blog this is). But between lousy customer service, shitty attitudes of sales clerks everywhere you go, and the flipping drug addicts that we allow to run willy nilly all over this city, I am just sick of it. People risk life and limb to get into this country on a daily basis, and yet those who had the privelege (or dumb luck) to be born here are the ones that bug the shit out of me most. Learn some manners. Have some fucking respect (self and otherwise). I'm just sick of it.

I don't even know what this post is about

Things appear to be back to normal in escrow-land. I've opened a bunch of orders the last few days but currently have nothing to close so it's been a tad on the boring side. Yesterday, the Veterans Day holiday for the working masses, the counties were closed, so there was nothing recording. "Lucky" for me I had a meeting regarding standardizing our escrow fees - it was in our Sunnyside branch. The Sunnyside branch is in Clackamas, which is 30 miles one way from where I live. Pretty much all freeway, but that almost makes it worse. Traffic wasn't terrible going there, though it would have been any other day, so it took me about 45 minutes to get there. It wasn't raining much, just that spray/mist/intermittent windshield wiper speed. Meeting lasted until 10 or so, and then driving back the rain was becoming more heavy, and though I didn't run into traffic issues on the way back, it was raining harder and harder. I-5 N between the 205 and 217 is flat as a pancake (stupid here) so the rain has nowhere to go, and visibility was next to nothing.

When I got back I had a conference call that I was 40 minutes late for (having to do with our computer system - I am a "power user" for our branch and have been since May but they just barely added me to the system so this was my first experience with the conference calls and frankly I want the next hour back). It lasted another hour, and by that time I was completely not into working. I remember when I was at National City back in the day, and it seemed like all I did was go to meetings. Some days you had back to back meetings the entire day. I recall being so irritated because there wasn't any time to do my own job with all the meetings - but my own job didn't really require much time. No wonder they eliminated my position.

I have things I need to do today on the outside, so I am trying to fire up for that. It's not raining just yet and the forecast calls for just showers while we wait for another storm system to come through beginning tomorrow. I just don't remember it raining this much in recent years. It's just depressing.

I ended up having to cancel the paper again. That didn't take long, did it? The problem was that I actually only received 2 Sunday papers since I started it October 15. I read that one and the other one from the next week is still over there in the entry hall, in plastic, untouched. Do you see what I mean? The next two Sundays, no paper, but that isn't what made me call the Oregonian yesterday and calmly yet firmly gripe and cancel. The problem is that I have been getting random weekday papers. And the paperboy (man? they drive now) is an excellent shot. I am usually up when the paper gets here, and the first time I got the random weekday paper it scared the bejaysus out of me, and when I figured out what had slammed against my front door at 0-dark-hundred it just pissed me off.

This last week, no Sunday but a Wednesday and a Friday, all slammed against the front door. Now I am really mad. So when I finally called the Oregonian on Friday afternoon to shut the flipping thing off once and for all, though fired up, I was nice about it. Now today (or right now I should say) it isn't raining so I guess I will gather them all up and take them out to the recycling bin. All this work for nothing. I'm serious, it just pisses me off.

So I started this post at the time it says, but in the middle of it Heather called - she and her man were coming back from the gym and on the way to Starbucks so I joined them. They are remodeling their house which is very near mine, and he hates it. It's kind of funny. All of their free time is spent working on it. That would just suck. I am so all about leisure it's not even funny. On my way back I went and tanned finally and so thus begins the pre-trip power tanning. I need it. I am practically yellow.

Booked

Yep booked for December. It will be nice to get back since it has been raining cats and dogs here since last week. The governer of Oregon came on TV today saying the whole weather thing has been blown out of proportion nationally, and, aside from really hard hit areas like Tillamook, he's right. It's raining in Oregon; how is that news? Oh right, we have to keep things like the war in Iraq as far away from the nation's attention as possible. At least they aren't blaming it on the Mexicans (illegal or not). Yet.

Speaking of Iraq, my sister Barbie called and told me that our ex-sister-in-law Nancy informed her that her son, our nephew, Matt, is back in the States and is flying home to North Dakota soon. Thank God! He has had some near-misses apparently but it appears he has come back largely unscathed. Well, physically, anyway. Just another opportunity to thank those people that have been over there as well as the ones that still are. We citizens back here at home may have our opinions on this war, but as far as the servicemen and women are concerned, they all deserve our undying gratitude and support. I'm happy he is back and okay.

Anyway, I go back to Cancun on the 5th of December, for a week. It is causing some unhappy vibes at work, and I am not used to being disliked. I work hard, though, I am supportive of my coworkers, I arrive early and leave late, am dedicated and good at my job. Oh yeah, and I am given the vacation time, too. I just don't like feeling the discord, because I have to be at work roughly 10 hours a day, I prefer it to be harmonious. Sometimes I am over-sensitive about this stuff, but I don't think I'm imagining it. It's really a bummer.

Not much else going on - just dealing with the rain (because it makes everything so cold) and working away. My rush of business last month is followed up with a big bunch of nuthin'. So I am doing clean up and catch up and closing a couple here and there. I surely hope it picks up, but not so much for the first week of December. That wouldn't be so good for me.

Keeping in touch

Well good morning from rainy Portland, Oregon. Rain brings life and greenery and hope, doesn't it?

Yeah, whatever.

After a horrendous week from hell, and I do mean that, I am enjoying the weekend by not doing too terribly much. Rebecca T (as opposed to Becky H, isn't that funny? I discovered it was still T this weekend!) and her familia came into town on Friday afternoon, and we chatted on the phone as they were pulling into the SW Portland area. I considered hooking up with her at her hotel after her kidlets had gone to sleep (her kids actually go to bed between 7 and 8, you just don't see that anymore. I think it's great), but the rain, the darkness, the horrific work week... I couldn't do it. Instead I watched "Thank You for Smoking", a Netflix choice that frankly is very worthwhile. Sure I am a smoker, but this movie isn't necessarily pro-smoker (it is in a parodic sort of way, but that's just part of the comedy), it is more pro-spindoctor. I like a good talker. I could go on, but it's better that you just rent it yourself because I don't want to kill it for you. But only rent it if you don't normally rent everything with Tom Cruise, Brad Pitt or Julia Roberts in it. Rent it if you loved "The Player".

Saturday morning I went over to Rebecca's mom's house, the house Rebecca grew up in. It is near my old neighborhood somewhat, and I thought I would have no problem driving right to it, but I did get a little lost and found myself laughing out loud while driving around in circles and remembering street names and stuff like that. I saw her mom, sister in law and husband, all of whom I have not seen in 6 years (I was maid of honor with Keeli as matron of honor in Rebecca's wedding then - God what a fun wedding that was!), and met her two little boys - Jack and Matt. It's so funny to me to see fully formed children (as opposed to just born ones) of people you know - to see these individuals that have some of the family traits but also have their own gig going on as well. Jack is 4 and Matt is 18 months (okay, you know what, I just parrotted that - he is one and a half - I have to say this whole month thing always drove me nuts. No offense to anyone that I know who uses it, but good Lord. Don't make me do math on top of everything else. What am I? 492 months? And yes I had to get a calculator...). Active little boys in their own right - but not screamy and whiney and cry-y (Matt bonked his head on the coffee table and you could tell it really did hurt, but after a brief sob and some comfort from his dad he was right back at it again) like a lot of kids are these days.

Rebecca's (that's hard, I am going to revert to Becky) brother Brian came home mid-visit (his and Denise's 2 kids are precious as well - you kinda want to bite that baby Will), and the house sort of started to take on that clammoring house-full-of-kids feel it always had (Becky was the oldest of 5 so there was always someone around when you went over there), lots of activity in the kitchen, several conversations going on at once, that kind of thing. It was actually kind of cool. Reminiscent. We left there around 1pm, so it was a good visit, and Becky even gave me a handful of chestnuts, so today I will be scattering them about. I'm such a dork.

After parting ways at casa Thompson I went on to Target and broke down and bought a new coffeemaker. I mean for Pete's sake I don't even know where the one I have came from! So the good news is I have a sleek black self-timing son of a bitch and guess what - coffee tastes EXACTLY the same out of it. Whatever. It's stimulation.

But it was really a good visit. Later that evening Becky and I chatted on the phone for something like an hour and a half about pretty much anything - one thing about Becky is that we ALWAYS could converse, and intelligently. Becky has done some great things in her life, lived some interesting places, and her perspective is similar to mine. Honestly I could chat with her on the phone for hours and not realize it. Considered breakfast this morning but when I woke up for some reason my hips were killing me and I had to Frankenstein-walk to the bathroom and out to get some coffee... maybe it's the rain.

Completed my Saturday errands though and came home to finish making the bed up and watch the Duck game. I have an experiment going on of sorts - nothing official or anything - but I need to know if I am truly Jinxy Joyce. Every time I watch they do something horrid and/or lose. I try to tell myself it isn't me, but it's hard to believe. So I had a book in my hand and watched the game out of the corner of my eye - pretty much the whole thing, and we won. I have to say I think it is Bill R, down in Texas, because he says the same thing - he could be a jinx. Or maybe this year the Ducks just suck on the road. I'm waiting to see if Bill watched the game or not. Then we'll know.

Today I will resume weekend cleaning and chill with the NFL, maybe make some enchiladas for the week. Christine from work gave me a recipe for that sweet corn casserole - you know that little side they have at Chevy's and El Torito? Anyone know what I mean? I have the recipe now and it is the BOMB. Maybe I will make some of that too. It's icky out and I choose not to shower today. But I still need some shoes.

Not much, but at least it's something

Month end never did go away, so I am just as busy as I was on Monday and Tuesday, though today might be okay. I had Terri, a floater, helping me out, which was good I guess, I won't complain. You know, you might think this is a good thing but I resent that it takes away from my chat time during the day, and plus I can't get stupid, mundane things done, like book airfare or write the rent check. Me me me... big surprise.

Anyway the rain started on Thursday and I just don't think it is ever going to go away. Rain here is underlined by cold so it's not like rain in, say, Cancun, which has a warm underlining. Here it is to the bone. I am not kidding you, I had my heat turned up to 80 last night because I couldn't feel my hands. Now that I think about it, I first started feeling my hands again when I got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom.

Something to be said about the heat in this apartment: I think I mentioned it before, but the heat source for the whole apartment (besides the bedroom) is the gas fireplace. It heats up the living room but it seems to have some trouble making it to the dining room (mere feet away from the living room) and the kitchen. So depending on how cold you are, there is no walking away from the fireplace in the evening. The bedroom has electric baseboard but I don't like heat in a bedrooom so I haven't turned it on (and don't plan to). For now, cranking the heat to 80 just keeps the apartment at around 68 (unless you are standing in front of the fire).

I am not complaining, I just need some gloves I think.