Entertain Me

I used to be the girl who discovered new music artists before anyone had heard of them. I found Evanescence before they had the song on that one movie. (Great information from me, right?) I used to scour the internet for new songs, new artists, unusual music . . . now, I'm incredibly lame. I barely make it past iTunes Top 10. IF I'm lucky.

I have a new assignment at work that's going to take a very long time and some intense concentration (and hi, I'm ADD head, have you met me?), so I need to stick my new SkullCandy headphones in and listen to music and zone out of the world of my cubicle and get into research mode. The only problem is that, while i have over 8,000 songs on my iTunes, I'm sick of all of them and instead of zoning out, I spend all my time skipping songs I'm no longer interested in hearing.

All that leads me to my post title. I NEED NEW MUSIC! So I'm begging you to recommend your favorite obscure song, new artist, ANYTHING. I so badly need new music. HELP!

(And let's not let this be like last time when I asked for links and only two of you sent help. I know you guys have it in you!)

Ready? GO!

This Post Makes My Feet Hurt

Wait, that's not it . . . standing all day in a trade show booth by myself makes my feet hurt? Yeah, that works better.

I've basically had to man the booth alone this time. My partner in crime had a death in the family and had to leave. While I COMPLETELY understand his having to go and actually made him leave sooner than he really wanted to, I must be honest and say that standing in a booth all day ALONE, trying to talk to eight million people all at once and watching a line form is priceless, in a bad way. I have almost lost my voice from talking so much and I'm SO sick of saying "we're a true end-to-end eCommerce platform . . ." I could pull out my vocal cords.*

On the plus side, I had an AWESOME hair day. I wish I had taken a picture of it to show you because it doesn't happen often and today convinced me NOT to cut it all off. I had been thinking lately that I might, just to mix it up, but a good hair day will do a lot to convince a person that almost six years of growing our your hair CAN in fact pay off. The only bad part of having a good hair day today is that only the DOM (Dirty Old Men) at the trade show saw it and my husband did not. What a waste.

Palm Desert is absolutely breathtaking. It's eighty degrees and yet I can see snow on top of the peaks close by. The hotel is gorgeous and my bed is dreamy comfortable with oodles of pillows to cuddle up with. I had my favorite meal last night at Tuscany (as planned) and tonight we had Tepanyaki. I can forgive my company for making me man the booth for twelve hours a day because I eat like a queen on these trips.

Maybe standing all day burns off the calories and I should be grateful for the chore. Hmmm interesting thought. Maybe I can do jumping jacks in the booth to attract attention AND burn calories. I might have to think hard about that. I could be made famous as the exercising booth babe!! I'm going to present the idea to management** as soon as they decide to exit the bumpin' party I can hear going on down in the dance club. A visual I decided to completely avoid, thus my being IN my room, not watching them dance. Ew. Seriously. Ew.


*This was a description used only to express my extreme hatred of the phrase. I would NEVER in a million years pull out my vocal cords. I spent way too many years (and dollars) learning how to use them. Also, I like to hear myself talk. So parental units who paid for my voice lessons and college education in singing, never fear. My cords are safe and sound, tucked in and sleeping comfortably in their warm, vocal cord home.

**My chances are not good. This is the same management team who shot down my idea to have "Marketing Superstar" as the title on my business cards. They have no imagination. Class, yes. Imagination? Not a drop.

TGIF. Seriously.

T.G.I.F has multiple meanings today. Thank Goodness it's Friday, of course, but also Thank Goodness it's February!!

First, the good news. My Mom is doing significantly better! There was a small scare yesterday afternoon when the doctors did a CT scan and found that whatever was blocking up her intestines hadn't moved despite significant efforts via medicine and tubes, etc. so they had an opening with a surgeon and whisked her in to find out what was up. I was halfway to the airport to be with her when I was told to hold off because my Mom's husband was on his way (only took him three days and a surgery. Sigh. Another story for another time.) so I went home and prayed. After about an hour and a half we were told that everything was fine. She had some scar tissue from a surgery two years ago and it had formed almost a string and wrapped itself around part of her intestines and was basically "kinking the hose." All this is a relief because there's nothing permanently wrong with her and now that the string thing has been removed all will be well in Mommy-land. Thanks so much for your kind thoughts and comments. You'll never know how much they mean. My Mom even says thank you in an especially funny "morphined" out voice. I wish I could record it and play for you. Nothing funnier than Moms on Drugs.

Next up, the bad. The week just doesn't seem to be getting better!! I'm exhausted, not feeling exceptionally well and work has been IN.SANE. Not the usual insane that my office is. It feels like happy hour in the mental institution. No one can decide what's going on, who's in charge, what we're doing or what anyone's job really is. It's been this way for a while now but today it seemed to come to a head. There was yelling, stressing, almost quitting (not by me, never you fear), and almost firings today. INSANE I tell you. The silver lining is that I was told I am highly valued and my job is not in any way in question. I'm relieved to know that but feel the stress around me significantly. Me no likey stressful work environments.


I made Corn Chowder tonight and while it was good, I was disappointed in the recipe. It was soupy rather than . . . chowdery. I want CREAMY CHOWDER dangit! If any of you have recipes, please share!

Lastly, I've been without my wedding ring for over a month now. It is being re-engraved (it's got these cool engravings on the sides that are done by hand) and getting stones reset, etc. It was supposed to take three weeks and it's been five. I LOVE the jeweler who made it and is fixing it and I know it takes him a long time to work his magic, but I miss my ring! It was supposed to go out in the mail today, but he missed the FedEx pick-up and it won't go out until tomorrow. BLAST! There will be much rejoicing on Monday when my baby is back on my finger where she belongs.

Luckily a new month starts tomorrow AND it's Friday. Even if the week continues it's downward spiral and it's a bad day tomorrow, I have at least two days to recover from it. Knock on wood. Watch my car explode or something just to top 'er off. Ugh.

NOW, to end on a happy note! Groundhog Day is on Saturday! My best friend Brillig and I have a special bond with regards to Groundhog Day. It's a really hilarious story that I'll tell for Soap Opera Sunday one of these days, but I wanted to publicly wish Brillig and the rest of you a Happy Groundhog Day! Here's to hoping this blasted winter is over already!!

Dead.Frickin.Tired

So let's see . . . combine my stupid illness (anyone besides me noticing I'm getting sick a lot? What the crap is up with that?), being on my feet ALL. DAY. at this convention and the fact that I've been up for almost four hours and in my brain I'm still on Arizona time and sound asleep in my warm bed right now, I'm EXHAUSTED.

I arrived in Orlando on Monday, got to the hotel, got some food and went to bed for the night. At six o'clock. Orlando time. Read: four o'clock Arizona time. I didn't get OUT of bed until nine the next morning. Awesome. Overslept much?

I spent Tuesday running around like a chicken with it's (sick and congested) head cut off, got lost on the freaking toll turnpike THRICE (stupid GPS. It told me I was AT Lowe's when in reality? Lowe's was right off the turnpike. I could SEE it I just couldn't GET to it), set up a huge complicated booth, schmoozed potential clients at a cocktail party where they were drunk and I was not (however, I think we were on the same page because I was on like fifteen different kinds of medications), went to dinner at an Emeril concept restaurant and was NOT impressed, and fell into bed.

Wednesday I was up at 6 AM, Orlando time (my brain screaming in agony, being that it was 4 AM in there) and stood in the booth until about 5:00. I then took a nap (and by nap I mean watched old reruns of ANTM) and then headed down to another cocktail event. (Obviously these events I attend are not created for Mormons. Granted, not much is, so not like I'm surprised.) Then, finally, a highlight of the trip was going to Emeril's REAL restaurant at City Walk Universal Studios and having what may have been the best meal of my life. Rock Bass, Yukon mashed potatoes with a corn chowder sauce and some sort of fried crispy vegetable goodness. HOLY goodness it was amazing. So was the banana cream pie we had for desert. MMMMMM. I bow to Emeril's genius, despite the bad experience of the evening before. Back in my room, the internet was down (um, hotel people? You have a conference full of ONLINE RETAILERS. WE ONLY OPERATE ONLINE. WORKING INTERNET? AN ABSOLUTE NECESSITY!)(and hi, could I use more parenthesis in this post?)(No?) so I decided against working or blogging and called it a night.

This morning I had the HARDEST time waking up, but I feel about 80% better and YAY! Internet! In the booth! And we have comfy chairs! And my boss doesn't care if I sit because I'm sick! So on with pointless blog posts! Woot! For the record, still very tired.

Tomorrow I have to wake up SUPER early to be at the airport to catch my flight to New Orleans but I am SO EXCITED and glad I'm feeling better so I don't just crash at Futti's house and be boring. Futti is my sister, for the record. She's very small (unlike me) very funny (maybe like me) and I lub her. I'm dreading flying with the tail end of a flu/head cold, but hopefully by tomorrow I'm 100% better and won't care anymore.

And with that, it's time to kiss some more retailer butt. Mwwwwah. (that was for you guys, not the retailers.)(Though it could also be for the retailers.)(Still too many parenthesis??)(Naaah)

Verbal Vomit v1

*Begin verbal vomit transmission*

What day is it? Tuesday? It's already the 11th of December?

HOLY CRAPOLY WHERE DOES THE TIME GO?

*Shaking head, squinting eyes, trying to focus*

Yeah I have no idea what's going on with the time. I have NOTHING done for Christmas, no presents - not even a tree! Every time we plan time to go get one, it freaking rains on us. We live in Arizona, it's not SUPPOSED to rain. Sunshine all the time, especially in the winter, isn't that what the people who LURVE Arizona tout?(does that sentence even make sense???) Just FYI, those that tout beautiful, sunny winters appear to be liars. Because it's rained the majority of the last two weeks and I have an impromptu river and a three inch depression in my front yard to prove it. Oh, and my car has been dirted. Stupid rain.

Matt and I still haven't taken holiday photos and I'm waiting for the cards I ordered (WON! Yay!) to arrive, so, don't be mad if you get a holiday card from the Murphy's in June. That's how I seem to roll lately, assuming that's about the time I'll get my Christmas tree too. It will be Christmas in June, super-hot-120-degree style. Sweet.

Life continues to give me swats on the butt to keep me lively. I can't talk to much about details, but things at work are kind of crazy and up in the air. It's all pretty good stuff, just sort of unnerving and against my "change is bad" mentality.

Also, EVERYONE I KNOW is either pregnant or just had/is currently right at this moment having a baby. (OK that might be a bit of an over-exaggeration, but hi, my name is Kate. I over-exaggerate. Shoot me.)(Also, it's sad that exaggerate and Kate rhyme. Sad but typical.) Despite the peer pressure, and my co-worker Pete's insistence that I won't be allowed in the "Ha ha we have a baby and you don't" clique, I'm not having a baby because I just had a new car.

**Sidenote: HOW MUCH WOULD IT HURT TO BIRTH A NEW CAR?!?!?! End Sidenote**

Operation "Skinny Kate" has taken a hit this week, due to sugar cookies from WalMart. Yes, you heard me, I went to WalMart. Mostly because Matt needed stamps, but I found the cookie and rejoiced greatly. They are those super soft ones with the thick frosting -- do you know what I'm talking about? Ahghghghghg they are so tasty. However, the hit to my thighs is being handled because I'm still running and biking every other day, despite loud protestations from my butt bones and my hip. I biked ten miles on Saturday. It SUCKED and I sweat a lot (have I mentioned I hate sweating? Well, I do.) but I must admit it felt great to waddle off the bike and announce to Matt "HA! Ten miles conquered! *pause to hold on to his shoulder before gravity overtook my shaky body* Carry me to the car?"

*Apologize sincerely to readers. Verbal vomit ended*

Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?

Hmmm, maybe I should change the title to "Where Have All the Gentlemen Gone?" because that's really what I mean. But that's neither here nor there. I like my title and it's staying.

I realize I'm not the only woman who asks this question, but I had an experience today that gave me pause and I couldn't resist writing about it.

In my office we have a soda fountain, similar to one found in a gas station. It has about six varieties of soda, the most popular of which is the Diet Coke. I may have mentioned my addiction to this amazing beverage of life - and it's true. I'm totally addicted, but I'm trying to cut back to one a day. So, at about 2:00 this afternoon, I wandered into the break room to serve myself up my one delicious Diet Coke, and whattaya know . . . the machine is out.

This is fairly typical in my office. I seem to work with a giant group of helpless idiots. If there are no more cups on the counter, they will wander off, dejected, rather than reaching on top of the fridge to grab a new sleeve of paper cups. If the coffee is out, they will walk to the Starbucks two blocks away rather than make a new pot of coffee. You see what I'm getting at, right? Naturally, when the Diet Coke is out, people just wander away rather than doing the fairly difficult job of switching out the syrup (because the box of syrup weighs about thirty pounds).

But not me. Oh no not me. I need my Diet Coke.

Today, switching out the box was more complicated than usual because the Diet Coke was buried under the orange soda and the Dr. Pepper. And the space we have the boxes of syrup in is pretty tight so I had to move the other two boxes completely out of the space and into the middle of the floor in order to get the Diet Coke out. To add even more detail you probably don't care about, today I was wearing these boots:Needless to say, my balance wasn't quite what it normally is. As I was trying to grab the Diet Coke box by the flimsy cardboard handle, the handle broke and my feet slid out from under me and I fell flat on my back. Splat. Ow. Laughter.

Right about as I helped myself back up, wondering if our security cameras caught my moment of glory, two of our developers walked into the kitchen to get coffee. Now, lest you forget, I had two boxes of soda syrup spread out on the floor and another box I was trying to lift into the cupboard where we hook it up to the life giving veins of the soda fountain.

The two guys saw, and basically sat at watched me, in my pointy black heels and nice dress pants, struggling to lift the Diet Coke into the cupboard, then continued to watch as I attempted (in vain a couple of times almost causing the damage of the cute pointy toe of my right boot) to lift the other boxes back into their tight space. They just SAT and WATCHED. And it made me so mad!

Now, I am a pretty independent, tough kind of gal. I don't mind lifting boxes, I don't mind taking care of things like that myself. I grew up in a house without a father and until my brothers were bigger, Mom and I had to take care of a lot of that stuff ourselves. I can tile, operate a saw, a drill and other small power tools. I can do a lot of that stuff myself and I don't profess to "need a man" to help me with things like that.

BUT - it's really nice sometimes to have the help or at least the OFFER of help and there are jobs that I simply cannot do by myself. I lack the arm strength, despite my bulging biceps, and it seems less and less guys are being gentlemen in these types of situations.

I once worked for a man who once handed me a huge heavy box to take to his car and then walked in front of me all the way out to the parking lot talking on the phone, not even pausing to hold the doors open for me as I struggled to walk behind him.

Another man I worked for had me clean out a large room in his house and basically watched and directed me as I loaded heavy things into a truck then sent me off to the dump and storage units to unload the same stuff by myself.

I dated a guy for a very long time who had me do everything and would sit around watching. I did the cooking followed by the dishes. I would have to be with him when he went to the doctor and he'd have me fill out his paperwork for him.

Part of the problem is that I have a hard time asking for help and I'm a huge enabler . . . but I guarantee that if I really need the help, and someone offers, I won't say no. However, in some cases, I really shouldn't have to wait for an offer. There are situations where a manly man just needs to stop what he is or is not doing, or help.

Now, in contrast to the above, my husband is a great guy who always offers to do the "manlier" jobs himself, or to at least help me. I may not always take him up on that, but it's SO great to have the offer of help with heavy boxes, hard jobs, etc. My Father and brothers would rather die before letting my Mom, Stepmother, sister or myself pick up a heavy box or whatever job they consider "manly."

But, as you can see from my other examples above, in my life, guys like my husband, Dad and brothers, seem few and far between. Don't get me wrong, I know they still exist. One of them opened the door for me today coming out of a restaurant. Another picked up some papers that had fallen out of my briefcase. But overall, it feels like men have stopped being Gentlemen.

Trust me, I don't want to go back to the days where men walked on the road side to prevent the women from getting dirty but didn't allow the women to vote and I don't want to turn back time to the days when men were "true gentlemen" and a woman's "place" was in the kitchen (extreme examples, I know, but I hope you know what I'm getting at), but, I would really appreciate more men being more respectful. I would appreciate two strong men offering to help me lift thirty pound boxes rather than standing around staring. I would love to have more doors opened for me and not feel like I have to cause a hernia lifting heavy boxes or furniture. I like feeling girly!! I like pink and ruffles and roses and all of those girly things. But even if I didn't, myself and every other woman I know deserves a little more respect from the general man population.

I wish I had a solution. I know my son(s) will be raised to behave like his/their father. The men in my family will be gentlemen, but I obviously can't be the one to influence the world.

I just hope that my generation can help bring some of that chivalrous attitude back, because chaps and Wranglers or not, cowboys knew how to treat a lady.* Yipeeeai, Yipeeeay

------------------
*For the record I am aware that not all cowboys were or even ARE gentlemen and some of them are/were disgusting. I'm purposely making generalizations here, mostly to tie my ridiculous title into the post. No judging. Thanks. Kisses.

Kate Happens in Vegas

Vegas is/was/continues to be . . . interesting. Pretty much what I expected. Lots of work, two very sore feet, severe irritation with co-workers . . . the bad stuff I expected. With the exception of the night of puking my guts out. Didn't expect that. Apparently when you eat healthy for a month it's NOT a good idea to go eat French food. Who knew . . .

The good stuff has been great. GREAT food (in spite of the puking episode). I ate literally some of the best food I've ever had while on this trip. John Dory (a fish? What the?), Dover Sole, fresh handmade ravioli (cheese, sweet pea - not the flower, artichoke, asparagus . . . mmmmm), strawberry/vanilla baked alaska, chocolate hazelnut dome thingies with raspberry sauce . . . AND the good news, it was all not paid for by me. I got an AMAZING aromatherapy massage (they had me fill out a questionnaire and then CUSTOMIZED a scent just for me! It was so amazing.)

The Mandalay Bay, where I'm staying, is WAY better than I expected, and THEhotel, where my company had a hospitality suite is spectacular. And contains the funniest . . . "thing." Everything is "THE" THEcoffee cafe. THEbar. THEnotepad. THEsparkle. And the best one of all:

Who knew you could find that kind of comedy in the bathroom? On the toilet paper??

And.

Oh my gosh the AND. Are you guys ready for the A-N-D?

I'd like you all to meet the newest member of my family:

Her name is Carla Mancini (I think I shall call her Cini) and she's the most beautiful, brilliant, amazing little red patent leather bag with ivory grosgrain lining that ever was born. I will protect and love her as long as I am breathing. My unbelievably amazing boss saw her in a store and told me I had to have her. I tried to argue with said amazing boss but she INSISTED that I bring her home. After a few minutes you just don't argue with your boss when she INSISTS on something. Especially when the something she is insisting on is THAT BAG and tells you that you are not required to spend moolah to bring her home. She is sitting next to me in the front seat on the car ride home tomorrow.

So, tomorrow I have one more meeting in the morning and then I drive home. I can't wait to see my husband. I've missed him like crazy this week.

Also, it's time to start packing. The official closing date is set for the new house. September 28th. No news on the old house but I'm sure we'll have some soon. For now I'm trying to get excited and pick paint colors for the new house!

And trying to ignore the fact that I have to pack. I hate moving.

Viva Las Work My Butt Off

Well folks, the hardest week of the year for my job is here. It's our biggest conference and this year it's in Vegas.

This may sound like blasphemy to some of you, but me no likey Vegas. Well,. that's not exactly true, but I've been to Vegas like a million times. I can drive here in under four hours and I grew up about a six hour drive away. So I sort of feel "been there, done that, don't WANT a t-shirt" about it. Also, as I'm sure you realized, I don't drink, smoke or gamble. So um . . . Vegas sounds fun now right? No?

SHOPPING! You say? Well, this week I won't have TIME to shop, and H&M at Planet Hollywood doesn't open until October so who cares anyway? (Kidding! Sort of.)

Last year, this show was held in New York, the Mecca to my soul, and needless to say I was much more excited about that. I will have fun this week, I'm sure. I'll also gain about fifteen pounds, as I have dinner plans at fancy-pants restaurants every night of the week. I brought my workout clothes, but I have a bad feeling they will stay sleeping in my suitcase.

Now, the week won't be ALL bad. I mentioned the food and I just spent the weekend with my darling friend Sara and her equally darling family and there's a good chance I'll see Jewels this week while she's here visiting her sister, but I'm still sort of dreading it. My allergies have kicked in and I'm not sleeping well and I know I'll be on my feet all day, every day until I leave on Thursday afternoon, and anything fun I might be able to do will have to be cancelled due to my extreme exhaustion and need to soak my feet in ice. (Can one soak their feet in ice? Hmmm . . . )

And now, I'm off to set up our booth and get everything set up. Here's to hoping I win a million dollars from a penny slot machine and that my feet don't fall off.

I'm actually terribly timid

There is a song called "Shy" from a not-so-famous musical called "Once Upon a Mattress" in which the lead character dances and belts at the top of her lungs that she's
"just as embarrassed as you
And I can understand your point of view
I've always been SHY
I confess that I'm SHY
Can't you guess that this confident air
Is a mask that I wear 'cause I'm SHYYYY"
And it's basically a mockery of shyness. It's a great song, though slightly obnoxious if you don't like a purely belted song.

But, this leads me to the point of my post.

There was a time, or actually a very long time basically spreading from the moment of my birth until about five years ago, when I was not shy in any way, shape or form. My mother tells stories of me hanging out of shopping carts at the grocery store screaming "Hi! Hi! Hi. HIIIIIII" until the person I was speaking to had no choice but to respond. I'd wander off all the time and find the nearest stranger and strike up a conversation. I remember TELLING my mother, after we saw "Cats" for the first time that I could sing just like Grizabelle the Glamour Cat in her rendition of "Memory." And I truly believed it. I could do anything. I could BE anything. Looking back I can't believe what a self-assured, confident little person I was.

Honestly, I blame/thank my mother. My birthday is New Year's Eve, and until I was about five, I was told, and honestly believed that the fireworks and parties and hoop-la was for MY birthday. I was convinced that the whole world was celebrating ME. I was devastated when I discovered that New Year's Eve was a world-wide celebration of THE NEW YEAR, but I think that it truly helped form the confident person I became.

Then something happened . . . I guess it crept up slowly through the years. A bit of self consciousness here and there slowly oozed it's way into my life. I found myself becoming shy in the weirdest situations. For example, I am a trained Broadway style singer (thus the "Once Upon a Mattress" reference). I have years and years of voice training and acting and all of that under my belt. Yet, I am terrified to sing in front of small crowds, especially when they are filled with people I know. I have NO problem singing to a huge auditorium, but put me in a room with my family and ask me to sing a Christmas song and I FREAK OUT. I myself readily admit it is the weirdest thing.

I now find myself hiding in my shell more, hiding from confrontation and not wanting to "put myself out there" and meet tons of new people. And it's SO STRANGE to me! Because I know how I used to be!

I am trying to figure out how to get some of my carefree, non-shy self back. I liked that person! I liked the girl who truly believed she could do anything. Who tried to make friends with everyone she encountered. Who didn't understand and had to fix it when someone didn't like her. I am also trying to find this person for the new responsibilities in my job. I am now responsible for lead generation for our sales team. This is going to require my "putting myself out there" a lot more. And I'm scared. Hold me.

I guess I have two questions for the bloggy world. First, does this happen to everyone? Do we all become more and more shy and reserved as we become adults? Second, do you have advice on how to overcome it when necessary? Truly, I'm dying to know. Spill!

Perfect Credit

Ok, this is embarrassing to admit, especially to the whole world, but today is a proud day for lil' old me. Why you ask? I'll tell you why.

About nine years ago last month, I left for the adventure of a lifetime. I left my comfy home in Provo, Utah and set out for a summer in Europe. First, theatre study abroad in London, followed by a three week backpacking trek with six friends through "The Continent" followed by the remainder of the summer in London and the surrounding areas just hanging out and becoming cultured.

Cut to the last week in June and what is now lovingly referred to as "the death train" from Pisa, Italy to Nice, France and being robbed by Gypsies on said death train as we slept off our horrid sunburns from our day in the Cinque Terra (I know, my life is so hard. But focus on the ROBBERY.) I woke up to find my camera, passport, Eurail pass, new watch, CONTACT LENSES . . . pretty much everything except (oddly) my wallet GONE. Cut to me by myself getting a new passport in Marsailles (Tourist Pointer: Marsailles is sort of boring, and pretty ugly, despite the romanticising of the city my mostest favorite book Count of Monte Cristo) and having three days of total melt down freak out. Cut again to massive spending to correct the problem followed by my stupid eighteen year old self wanting to GO. HOME. NOW. Mind you, I was broke as can be, savings drained, credit card maxed, all family favors called in. I would have spent the remainder of the summer wandering aimlessly through London like the homeless man who made his makeshift home on the corner of our Queen's Gate school apartment building. So going home was sort of the best and only option.

Cut NOW to me going home and going back to college and deciding to buy a new car and making some pretty dumb financial decisions, despite the awesomeness of my parents who paid for my schooling, therefore I should have been DEBT FREE. Sigh. Alas, I was young and have I mentioned financially stupid? Little by little, I added to the debt that had started when I was stranded in Europe. It was like a little white lie . . . building slowly but surely. Now that I'm older and wiser, I'm glad it wasn't worse than it was. I've heard stories of maxing out student loans and multiple credit cards. Mine was manageable, but still entirely too much.

The ONE advantage I had is that I knew I was in too deep, and I took advantage of the fact that the credit fools thought I was rich or something, because, as horribly in debt as I was, I had a fantastic credit score and a high credit limit and I never paid ONE PENNY of interest. Ever. I transferred my pile of debt from interest free credit card to interest free credit card for five years. FIVE YEARS. Oui.

And again I digress . . . here is the POINT. The POINT is that as of 9:45 this evening, I am officially debt free. The last penny has been paid.

I wish I could take all the glory that comes with this accomplishment . . . but I have to thank my Mother, who hounded me to pay it down, and most especially thank my husband for paying for EVERYTHING while we were dating so that I could get it down to a reasonable total before we got married, and then giving up last years tax refund to help. I'd also like to thank my health insurance company for screwing up last year and having to give me a hefty refund this week for my overpayment.

See? Told you I shouldn't get all the credit. Haha. Credit . . . HA.

Locked In a Room By Myself With No Human Contact Until Further Notice

I'm not nice this week. I'm not even halfway pleasant. I am a giant ball of mean, nastyness.

I'm trying not to talk to people. I'm actually trying not to LOOK at people, for fear my eyes will become deadly laser beams and I'll kill someone I care about. I'm trying to hide in my cube and say nothing.

And yet . . .

PEOPLE KEEP CALLING. Or they keep "stopping by my cube" to say hi. Or they ask me to DO THINGS for them. To like, work. Or they want me to do things like EAT LUNCH WITH THEM. Are they crazy?? Have they MET me this week?

I need a door . . . or a sign or something. They need to know it's not safe to play near me right now. Maybe I'll make one that says "Swim at your own risk: lifeguard eaten by a Kate shark and not likely to return."

If you have a better idea for a sign, let me know. I'm getting desperate at this point.

Where Paper Goes to Die

Oh. My. Gosh.

I am waiting for the tree-huggers to come take me away for my execution at any moment.*

I am cleaning out my cubicle at work. I took the opportunity to swap days off -- as in, my company has a holiday today, but I'm working in exchange for NEXT Friday off so that I could get some stuff done and CLEAN MY FREAKING DESK ALREADY without anyone bothering me.

So I'm cleaning my desk, like you do . . . and let me just tell you, it's bad. I inherited a cube used by three previously fired employees who took their personal crap and ran for the hills. So I got ALL their old stuff. And I was told not to throw it away but to go through it all. I also brought with me two years worth of Executive Assistant notes I was told not to throw away either, so I venture to say that I have at least ten years worth of CRAP here. That I have to go through. So I can tell WHOEVER that I went through it before I threw it's punk-arse in the TRASH.

So here I am. Hour three. GOING THROUGH IT ALL.

During this process, I discovered something disturbing.

I have a paper problem.

Specifically? I have a "using-part-of-a-notebook-then-losing-it-somewhere-in-the-mess-and-just-going-and-getting-another-one-no-good-very-bad-problem."

Pardon the horrid quality of the pictures, but here you have a visual of just how horrible my problem really is:

This is the pile I plan to use up before I allow myself to get ANY MORE NOTEBOOKS.

This is the recycling pile . . . And I've already half filled the recycling bin (that is the size of a giant curbside trash can)

Hopefully, I can focus enough that by the end of the day I will have a beautiful (yeah right), clean workspace.

Anyone have any organization tips? I'm DROWNING IN PAPER here folks!

*Tree-huggers, I know you don't actually execute people. And I know I shouldn't call you that. I promise not to do it again.

Overwhelmed

So I'm training the THIRD replacement in six months for my old job. Several things have occured to me.

A) I have SO MUCH random information stored in my brain about the men I worked for that I'm surprised I can still converse like a normal human being. Well, normal, depending on how you view it.

B) I am easily annoyed and frustrated.

C) The entire world needs to learn how to use instant messenger. This gal is FABULOUS but she's really resisting using the thing, and our company relies on it almost completely. If I get one more phone call from her, I'm going to poke my eyes out.

D) If I am ever going to fully get away from my old job I'm going to have to work for a new company, and I don't really want to work for a new company.

E) I like chocolate.