monday . august . nine . nineteen ninety nine we had a breakfast meeting today, wherein mr. obsessive/compulsive gave us hints of MORE new rules being handed out like pox-ridden blankets. one of the rules that mr. o/c claims to have squelched before it was made official was that spouses would no longer be allowed to use the employee rental privilege. mr o/c told the man that this was a stupid rule and the man told him "well, it's what the grand pubah wants." mr. o/c said he doubted that. the man said it would only be enforced when the spouse was renting alone, without the employee. mr. o/c still said it wasn't kosher and apparently, the man backed off for now. after mr. o/c gave us this tidbit, i asked him who in the company is married besides me. he paused for a loooooong time and said "i think that the quiet one is married." "no," i said "the quiet one is not married." another long pause. "well, _____ is married." (______ used to be one of the owners...can you see them turning his wife away for a free rental?) i just nodded and stayed quiet. finally, mr. o/c said of the rule, "it's not personal". right. fishy alameda is in town, and was hanging out with me at work after the meeting. he's fifteen and he has a retail job in california (where he makes a significantly larger wage than i do). when we got home from work, i was tired and feeling a little victimized and he asked me "what do they do at your work that makes it so bad?" so i was sitting there trying to answer him, briefly hitting on some of the main points, but it wasn't easy. it was something like trying to describe why i'm not a fan of dog shit. "well, it comes from a dog's ass, and, um, it smells kinda bad...and, gosh, what IS so bad about dog shit anyway!?" the thing is, all wage jobs (not just mine) are like dog shit in that their essence is FOUL, but if you organize it properly, it just might fertilize a garden. -- while running a credit card through the doohickey, i noticed something behind the counter that moved. there is nothing back there that is supposed to move. i leaned in and noticed that on the underside of a big electrical cord were insect feet and one of the BIGGEST exoskeletons that i have EVER SEEN. and then i ran to the other side of the store. fishy alameda and mr. o/c started making fun of me until they went over and saw what i saw. this was not a bug. this was MOTHRA. i swear to god it had a three inch wingspan and it did not want to leave. after much pushing and prodding, they finally got this beast outside. it was actually gorgeous. not only was it impressive in terms of pure mass, it had elaborately decorated wings. the kind that you see on nature shows, where it looks like it has eyes on it's wings or something. (fishy hypothesized that it had grown abnormally large because it was feeding off of the electricity it had been surrounded by for who knows how long.) they set it down outside the front door and it didn't look too healthy. in fact, it was vibrating, or something. we thought maybe it was in shock so we left it alone and hoped it would eventually fly away. we all went back inside, returning to our normal activities. three minutes later i happened to glance outside at the precise moment that a huge black bird swooped down and carried mothra away. fishy and i both said "WHOOOOOOOOOA!!" i was standing there trying to put the pieces together in my mind, you know, the circle of life and all that wild kingdom stuff when fishy said "hey look, you can see the bird still eating him!" which shook me out of my nature show moment enough to realize that we hadn't so much freed a trapped insect as much as we had created a nifty audobon salad bar. --- monday . august . sixteen . nineteen ninety nine well, i got my raise back. written off as a clerical error and reconciled with great speed because i was adamant that i receive the balance of my pay before the actual pay day. -- tuesday . august . sixteen . nineteen ninety nine found out that my mom has diabetes. fuck. -- e-mail exchange -- to: mom from: melysa subject: health problems suck hi there. i talked to dad today and told me about the latest lieberman diagnosis....i'm really sorry that you have to deal with this. dad was saying "i told your mom, it could be worse." and i wanted to punch him in the neck. of course, it could be worse but that DOESN'T MAKE IT FUN, EITHER. i told him not to try and talk you out of your feelings...to let you be sad or upset or pissed or whatever you need to be. i have nothing to say that would make things better. it stinks and it's not fair. however, one of the only things i retained from the attitudinal healing days (aside from a pronounced distaste for pseudo-touchy-feely-bullshit) is one of the main principles. it's the only one i remember by heart, and i think about it when i'm in the grips of some physical ka-ka. "it is possible to be calm and peaceful on the inside, regardless of what is happening outside." now, some might take the word "outside" to mean work, or the supermarket or bungee jumping. but for me, "outside" is mostly my body itself, and "inside" are my thoughts and feelings. it translates really well with lung damage, because when you're out of breath, it's the ultimate "lack of control" of your body, so i practice keeping my thoughts measured, even when i can't regulate my wind. i know, it sounds a little nuts-and-berries like, but sometimes it helps. other times, i find taking one of those cardboard rolls from inside wrapping paper and bashing it against the bed, or your spouse, works just as well. so, i'm here if you need me. i'm not going to pretend that i can make it all better, but you know that i know what this shit is like... and you know that i'll listen to anything you need to get off your chest. love, melysa p.s. i did some research tonite to try and give myself a little perspective and i found this site. it has some really cheesy illustrations, but it's got really simple and clear information, and it's easy to surf. http://www.ummed.edu/dept/diabetes/handbook/toc.htm - to: melysa from: mom subject: re: health problems suck You are such a great grown up. Maybe you were even a good kid, but who remembers. Your words are wise and I consider them a gift. Intend to go to the website tonight and print a bunch of it out. Let me know if you come across anything else. I just can't seem to find the time to find these important things. xoxoxoxoxox Mom --- thursday . august . eighteen . nineteen ninety nine paul's old boss from the mac store in california is in town. his mom and sister live here and he wanted to get together. mostly, he wants to see paul and i am pretty sure he has no use for me at all. we made a date to have lunch today and i really, really did not want to go. but, i suddenly realized that i had managed to beg off every single time he wanted to socialize in california, so no wonder he's not so fond of me. i realized that i haven't really given him a chance...maybe he's not so bad. oh my, how naive i am. ok, on the surface he's a pleasant chap. he's interested in good food and travel and he smiles a lot. but ultimately, he's not easy to be around. i don't think he understands that there are other people in the world. if he is aware, then he has no interest in them other than using them as his personal sounding boards. he doesn't converse. i mean, he utilizes the appropriate head nodding and pauses, but it's clear that he doesn't hear what you say. he just sounds off and the conversation kind of winds down. the other problem is that he is, in his truest heart and soul, a manager. he absorbs all interaction through a manager's filter. for instance, they were reminiscing a bit about the old times. paul was saying that for a while he really enjoyed the computer job, but towards the end, he was suffering from serious burnout. (i remember those months and they were not easy. paul was tired and bitter and i worried about him often.) at hearing this, "manager man" paused and said "well, if it makes you feel any better, i never noticed your performance slipping at all." and so we endured a moderately pain free lunch. when it came time to depart, he asked if we wanted to take a long walk to see the salmon. me being CRIPPLED and all, i declined. putting aside the afternoon plans paul and i had, i encouraged them to go. paul called home from a bar a few hours later to say that manager man was hinting at extending their outing. i was ready to be rid of manager man and at that point, so was paul. he intended to go back to the table and part ways. half an hour later, paul called and said they were leaving the bar but that manager man wanted to show us home movies from his australian vacation. i protested, saying that the house was HIDEOUSLY dirty, which was true, but it was also one of seven government approved excuses for avoiding social obligations. everyone knows about these rules and although they are not spoken of in mixed company, there is a silent agreement that these rules are to be recognized and obeyed. however, it seems that manager man did not read this particular by-law and said "oh, i don't mind a messy house." which stunned us into silence long enough for him to enter our home, only to find that he had forgotten to bring the tapes (shucks!). so we watched the fifteen minutes of footage that he took while on his walk with paul. riveting. an hour or so of non-conversation later, he left. the thing is, he smiles a lot and his eyes are shiny enough that i feel like a tremendous heel for not liking him. but he is so thoroughly trapped in his job's mindset and utterly uninterested in anything that paul and i find important... i can't help but have a sneaking suspicion that behind that fleshy face is one of those freak-ass robots featured in that john carpenter movie staring rowdy roddy piper. oh yes, my friends. they live! -- saturday . august . twenty one . nineteen ninety nine i got my first publisher's rejection today. feh. -- tuesday . august . twenty four . nineteen ninety nine mr. o/c and i have been having some really decent talks lately. he's still going through some tough times and he really doesn't like to be home by himself. he ends up hanging out at the store all the time, his days off included. i used to tell him that he needs to locate the magnets in his shoes and remove them in order that he might spend at least a twenty four hour period away from work. i think it made him feel bad, so when he came in last night i made sure that he knows i appreciate his company. i mean, he may have more than his share of pre-occupations and things to obsess over, but he's DAMN funny. how many people do you know that can do a dead-on norman fell impression? a few nights ago we were mulling over the fact that they have now made a stage version of "footloose" which is touring the country. (because there IS a time to dance.) mr. o/c launched into this hilarious tirade about how ridiculously nerdy the "rebels" in that movie were. he started doing this charleston dance, his pointer fingers wagging in the air and this completely putrid faked excited look on his face while saying "oh ya! we're bad! we're doin' the devil's business!" later that night someone returned "full metal jacket" . he turned to me and said "full metal jackée". we started laughing and trying to figure out what kind of movie that would have been. mr. o/c: can you see her in the latrine with a gun, long-ass finger nails and those high heel shoes? me: "i AM in a world of shit....maaaaaarrreeeeee." --- tuesday . august . twenty four . nineteen ninety nine i never thought it would happen but i'm getting the graphic design bug again. i guess my art-burn has graciously moved on to plague someone else. hopefully to be knocking on thomas kincaid's door any minute now. i'm not going to start heavy duty looking for graphic positions, but if something along the right lines comes up, i'll apply. something with at least a small chance for creativity along with the kind of people who will at least spit on me if i'm on fire. -- monday . august . thirty . nineteen ninety nine the uber-geek came by the store tonite. uber-geek is serving his sixth year at the video store and i've always kind of worshiped him. not so much because he's been here so long, but because he's THE uber-geek. he's not one of the new breed of self conscious geeks, who make their geek choices all too deliberately and pose for pictures that no one is taking. the uber-geek looks like he could be an extra in one of the "revenge of the nerds" movies. he wears basic drugstore eye glasses, which is particularly different because i've noticed that people in seattle have exceptionally spiffy eye-wear...i don't know why. he wears a tie to work. not a fancy tie, or an ironic tie, but a tie you might wear as manager of the am-pm. and his knowledge of film puts almost everyone i know to shame. including mr. obsessive compulsive...which is really saying something. with mr. o/c, i can hold my own in terms of classics but his grasp on cult, foreign and euro-trash films is a bit out of my league. but the uber-geek knows ALL. i've never really gotten to know the uber-geek too well, only talking to him on the phone doing store business. at first i thought he was rude, but after a while he warmed up. he's a nice guy, but i learned yesterday that he is powerfully funny. he's really quick witted and by the time he left, i was exhausted from keeping up with him. i believe that conversing with smart and funny people can be like playing catch with a red hot medicine ball. you have to hoist the damn thing around, make sure you catch it and toss it back in time, or you get burned. and it's impossible to toss it correctly every time, so when you play catch with a red hot medicine ball you're gonna get burned no matter how good at it you are. but it was really fun and we made mumblings about hanging out sometime. i'd be interested to see how he and paul communicate. i have a feeling they'd become fast friends. - customer interaction: particularly impudent teenage customer: oh, i saw that movie. me: what'd you think? customer: well...it wasn't the most best movie i've ever seen. uber-geek: (off to the side) was it more better?