Stillblogeto

I’ve never had it done, but it totally sounds like something way better than … well better than anything!!!!

Ok, no it doesn’t. its pretty much the worst gift you could give to someone. Don’t give it, trust me.

big storm coming this way. better hurry up to the store and get milk and bottled water.

???

why is everyone buying water? we’re getting 4″ of rain… aren’t we going to have more water than we need???

fucktards.

yes, only two.

numbers and geography. mostly numbers. they make my head spin. I can’t understand them, can’t look at them, and it makes me angry and tired to try to do either.

So what project do i have in work? I’m making sales reports, for all of our sales for the year, by country. I’ve been anxious about starting this, and now that i’m in it, i know why- because nomatter how hard i try to stay focused and understand what i’m doing- its not happening.

Then my boss comes by and points to this LONG list of sales by countries, which is listed by their country code, and asks me to sum up the european ones only.

HUH???? what??? She went on to say more, but all i could think of is how i was going to figure out what each country code stood for, and how would I know which countries are in europe. and how was I going to pull just that from the spreadsheet. She was already 5 instructions past the part I was stuck at thinking about, then tells me she needs it today.

this writing thing. i just can’t do it.

not THIS writing thing. not the blog. that i can do.

its the writing workshop that I teach. i can’t do THAT.

For one thing… it comes dangerously close to american idol, a show that I’m addicted to (yeah, yeah, i ended in a preposition. fuck you). And, these people, like most people, are beginning to annoy me. They are all very nice, but … nothing changes. the same woman writes the same ‘piece’ that sounds like a ’snippet’ from readers digest. its usually about spring or seeing the beauty in something, or some other boring crap. and the woman who writes as if we are in the 50s. “old doc McGreggor” and “c’mon boys, lets get out of here”. who talks like that? she gets offended when i remind her we’re in 2007 now. there’s another woman who writes about ancient Lapland. No, i don’t know where ancient Lapland is, but her stories are good. although, half her mistakes I don’t even care about because she’s reading the story with a raspy swedish accent and it sounds romantic. if i read it, it would sound rediculous.

so tonight, i had someone new sign up. I didn’t have the heart to tell him i’m probably not going to be teaching it anymore, but after his phone call, i think i might be able to find the courage.

he writes….

science fiction.

someone in work has a ‘crush’ on me.

like, a childhood kind of throw notes at me and make sad faces as he passes me and tell me i look pretty then run away kind of crush.

except he must weigh 400lbs if he weighs an ounce. So watching him run away is not pretty.

I’m flattered about the crush thing, but the notes and him stopping by my office to just hang out and say stupid things… that’s gotta stop.

its making me sick.

So my mom was telling me that her and A were on their way back from Las Vegas. They went to get in their seats on the plane, and there was a little boy stretched out in the three seats.

“You can’t sit here,” he said.

“These are our seats.”

“Well you can’t sit here,” he says again. The flight attendant asked what’s wrong and mom and A said that this boy says they can’t sit there. The flight attendant said that he’s traveling alone, but.. those are their assigned seats, so its ok.

They sit down, and the boy starts to cry. Mom tries to console and distract him and asks where he’s going. He tells her that he is going to live with his grandma in North Carolina and that he was living with his mom. Then he clarified it and said she’s not his REAL mom, but his Aunt. Soon, he’s crying again and saying he wants to get off the plane. The flight attendants remove him, then bring him back, still sniffling but obviously knowing that he had to go.

Mom and A talk to the boy, who is 9 years old. He tells her his name is Elisia and mom says that that’s what she wanted to name me (its true). He tells her he used to have hair down to the bottom of his back, and that one time he was locked in a car until the middle of the night, but he was able to reach a pocket knife and cut through his seatbelt (booster seat?) and get out. Mom and A suspected that was the reason he had been living with his aunt and not his mother.

He told them that one time he got $100 for something. She asked what he did with it and he said he bought clothes for him and his 3 brothers and sisters… 1 of which was already at his grandmas, and the other 2 were coming soon.

Mom and A had a great time with the boy, who adopted them as his parents for the duration of the 5 hour flight.

At the end, the flight attendants were thanking them for all that they did to ease this boy’s trip. Mom got a piece of paper and wrote a note to the boy’s granda, saying what a wonderful boy he is and wishing her well. She included $100 and said it was a gift from one grandma to another.

I love my mom.

samoth’s sucks. don’t even waste your time with his.

I’m busy packing up my office to move to a new building. so, i have no time to blog now.

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