the man who

i’m tired.

i can’t remember the last time i’ve felt so drained. i’m not sure when the last time i’ve felt this way before — i’m sure it’s probably been pretty recent, BUT, the thing is, i sat at work today, bored. BORED out of my mind.

I was thinking today on the way home how I’m liked at work, but i’m not popular. I’m not sure if this really makes a difference to anyone, but it makes a difference to me. Especially since I was coming from slip.net where respect was earned about who you fucked, not what you do. Anyways, I like where I work as there is no time clock to punch, i manage myself and my work can be somewhat exciting. But i’m not driven by it and i’m not passionate about it and i don’t think, no i’m sure that this is NOT what i want to do with the rest of my life. The problem is the following: It pays well, it’s impressive and it looks well when people ask me what i do for a living. The downside is: i’m bored, it’s stressful, and it can disrupt my life (ask Paul about the many days i’ve come home at 10-11pm at night). A lot of the people that i work with, really do love what they do. It is challenging and it can provide satisfaction and you do learn on the job. But, to me, I’m bored. I don’t care if someone wants a t1 or not. Seriously. It didn’t take long for me to become cynical about the job after speaking with consultants day after day who were not hip to what they had exactly ordered. and the times i have to explain over and over what dns is and bgp. i don’t give a fuck what my ex-boss Scott says, this is a tech support job — just way more high falutin.

when i first started working at UU, everyone told me how much they loved their job, how stable it is and how much the management (even with WorldCom’s interfering fingers) was incredible. And to be honest, none of that really has changed but there has been a rash of people leaving and we’ve gotten so many new “engineers” that now i’m a “senior engineer” which frightens me because i don’t feel like i know enough to be a “senior” engineer in anything.

one of the managers, lenny, whom i’m friend with; suggested that i come work with him in his department which is in the same region as i work in. there have been so many rumors and accusations with so many shifts of power, that i am not sure what to believe. but i do know that i don’t want to transfer to another department after the fiasco i had with working with scott.

i was thinking today that i have worked exactly half my life. i got my first job when i was 14 (working at sbarros pizzeria at woodland mall in grand rapids). i can’t remember why i had gotten the job, other than i wanted to demonstrate responsibility and make my own money. i made 3.15 an hour as i bussed tables and i fended off advances from the young Italian stud who worked in the kitchen. i don’t know why i quit. probably tired of being hit on, couldn’t get rides and i was not doing anything really worthwhile. the jobs lead on to working at footlocker, a few restaurants and etc and so on. now 14 years later, after holding down variety of jobs and such, i find that it’s 14 years later and while my life has changed significantly, i just find that this whole working thing is pointless. especially when i got the social security update of my earnings and i haven’t earned really jack. it was so depressing reading all those bright and shiny figures to realize that when i am 65, it will all mean nothing.

can you imagine working for another FORTY YEARS? I can’t.

pictures
here is a new pic of me and paul. new as of tonight.

i’m really really tired.
see you tomorrow.

x0x0x0x0x

in the pink

I’m obsessed with the color pink.

for the last few seasons they have been directing it back to springy pastels and pink always seems to be the color that is in. everywhere i turn, there is some slinky brunette (brunettes are also in this season — have you seen jenny mccarthy recently?) whose wearing some light pink lipstick with this beautiful pink dress (okay, so as you are probably already are aware that i obsess over minnie driver). and i’m standing there, thinking to myself “i can look like that.” and i can. i have pale skin and i HAD dark hair and now i’m a stinking red head.

grumble.

and it fucking figures, i find these awesome shirts while i was shopping yesterday and the only colors i can wear is white OR black because any of the pretty new colors make me look like a washed out ho.

grumble.

i’ve been threatening to re-dye my hair for the last two weeks. i don’t know what made me think i could carry red hair off again — but everyone seems to love it and paul tells me it makes me look that much more beautiful (and who the hell is going to argue with that logic). when my brother was here visiting, i had gone on a rampage and purchased ultra-blue and the red hair dye. four hours later, i walked out of the bathroom, completely changed from bright black hair to bright red hair. and i twitched.

this whole change of hair color was supposed to make me feel better, but within a week i was crying in the kitchen while paul kept telling me that no, i did not look like redneck white trash. but i still cried and went out and bought my usual feria “starry night” and waited. paul convinced me that i should stay red (and i did the usual dance “does this color look good on me”), my brother said so, my friends at work say so. i just look fabulous as a redhead (and this isn’t auburn baby — this is really red). But unfortunately, I got so tied to my gawf hair from hell that it’s hard to let go. maybe if i got it cut — i would feel better.

so i ‘m standing in the middle of a store last night with Sunni, lenny’s wife. i find these neat shirts that i really wanted. they had black, white, checkered lime green, checkered orange, orange, this beautiful pink shirt. i really really wanted to wear that pink shirt. i really wanted to strut around in that pink shirt and black pants and just flip my hair all around. i’ve been feeling very princessy lately.

so i grab a few shirts in a various colors and try them on. obviously the standards black and white look fine. then i try on the pink.

i really really want to wear this shirt.

and i almost started crying in the middle of the dressing room.

i looked like hell. i did not look like the spring bloom that i had envisioned. my hair had completely thrown off the color and i looked like someone had made me look like shit. i felt and looked like hell. i kicked. i screamed. i frightened the ladies at the store.

i really really wanted to wear that damn shirt. however, with my coloring i was forced to buy the black and white shirts. i couldn’t even wear the nifty checkered shirts.

this may seem trivial, but it sucked major ass. i’ve always felt that i was behind the times in clothing styles (though i’ve been told that i’m more hip than hip — and they are hip. let me tell you) but yet i’m not. okay this sounds really girlish (Queen Latifah rocks) but I’ve always fought with this inner thing inside of me. part of me wants to be the queen of cutting edge fashion, thin, beautiful, well loved and like. the other side of me wanted to be like this uber gawf queen with the balls to wear vinyl and pvc with no problems and not giving a damn about what people thought. i keep finding myself caught between these two rocks without a middle man to call home.

all because i wanted to wear this stupid pink shirt.

i’m not sure what got me on this special tangent, but the thing is majority of my clothes are black OR gray OR brown. the smattering of color i have looks good on a brunette but not on a redhead. and i’m sick of looking like the goff queen. it sucks. i’m tired of it. i prefer black hair, it looks better with clothing, i think i look better. but everyone loves me in red and gee, i’m going to have buy a new wardrobe to go with this color.

i’m just kidding.

that pink shirt though symbolizes a lot to me. it symbolizes how i am at one point and i want to be another. i will have that pink shirt, if is the last thing i will do.

2 AM

we were a motley crew.

paul, dayan, moe and i had decided early this morning to make a made run to get donuts. but the run to get donuts required us to drop off video games, go to cvs and buy condoms, hair dye, hair bleach, altoids, and wax.

as we sat in our living room playing psx and eating, i kept thinking: what did those people think seeing three guys, a girl coming into CVS at 2 am and purchasing 3 packs of condoms, altoids, and the other stuff. I mean, doesn’t it look funny?

I used to think about stuff like this when i would go to meijers or any store and look into people’s baskets. I always felt like the perennial female with buying douche, condoms, and lean cuisine. the variations of this themes are endless. i used to peek into other peoples carts and laugh at what they bought knowing that sometimes the implications of what we think is not always what the picture is.

American beauty
we had gone to see high fidelity tonight. which was interesting as one of pauls quirks is that we have to sit upfront in the first aisle to watch the movie.

i’m not kidding.

paul said if i didn’t like it, we could move, but i didn’t really see any difference with the movie anyways — except that my ass hurt but that is not uncommon when sitting down and watching a movie. so i sat there with my neck craned up, with derrick sitting behind us as paul i and fought for space on the arm rest. at one point during the middle of the movie, i had gotten up to get our large coke refilled and found out that they were “closed” and would not be doing refills. the young lithe young lady behind the counter looked at me and said “we are closed. we don’t do refills.” and i replied “but i will pay for it.” i mean, how fucking hard is it to push a button on the pop machine? obviously, it was too hard, to even please a customer. think about it. you are in the middle of the movie. you’ve just slurped down a large bag of popcorn, your boyfriend just ate a big plate of nachos. you are sharing a single coke. you both suck that sucker down within 10 minutes into the movie. you’re thirsty. you want more. you trot out (and miss probably like the most interesting 10 minutes in the whole movie) to find out that they are closed? okay, maybe i was being hormonal and i wanted to rip someone’s throat out BUT! every movie theater i have ever been to (and we are talking about two different countries and three states here), this movie theater was the ONLY one that closed down the concession stand while the movie was still playing.

to get my goat even more so, when we were leaving, i had looked over to the concession stand (sneering, if you must) to see about 10 people getting refills.

someone is gonna die.

and the movie?

it was wonderful of course. john cusack rocks my little world.
now only if i can get this damn crick out of my neck.