Random Thoughts for the Last Friday of the Year

1. Swiss-Cheese Bread.
What is the point?  You can't make sandwiches with it...unless you want the jelly dripping out, what fun.  It makes me seriously wonder why I go out of my way to favor the "smaller" bakery (which equals HIGHER price) if the quality is going to be just as, um unpredictable as the big (CHEAPER) boys?  Frustrating... The hole goes through almost the entire loaf, urgh.

2. Dressing for Success.
What do you think the assistant tells his wife/girlfriend/boyfriend/husband that he actually does?  It is Friday, casual friday which can become Dilbert-frightening, especially at the end of the year on a short week where I've seen more casual than usual, he's dressed to the nines!  In my head I've already come up with a story invovling treachery and hope.  But still, today of all days when even the suits are wearing so much denim you'd think it was still the 80s, lordy, that is just too much.

3. On that note:
I used to make some serious fun of a friend of mine when he used to match his light blue denim shorts/pants with, you guessed it, a light blue t-shirt.  Black pants went with a, right, black shirt.  Wearing things that "matched" or "went together" meant exactly that, down to the same dye-lot if possible.  What is it about boys and where they get that idea?  Cuz as I sat here thinking that the aninimity factor is crumbling hard as I relay this story I stopped and said, well, not really, as I think EVERY SINGLE GUY I've ever been friends with, and maybe even including my brothers had some time with me and showing how "this" shirt might go with "those" pants, even if they aren't exactly the same shade of slate grey.

4.Cuz I can't let a topic lie once I've started to overthink it...
I think the whole clothes thing might be due to some "color-blind" issue.  Really!  They say men are more likely to be color-blind than women, right?  Just earlier this summer a couple of friends came up to visit and Andy and he took a "color-blind" test online.  Andy already knows he is color-blind, and yet, poor soul, I'll still ask him if an outfit "looks right."  But it brought out a revelation or seven to our friend.  So it makes sense in the "better-safe-than-orange-and-puce" world to pick two colors that "match" in the strictest sense of the word, right?  Work with me here.

5.I HATE Being Sick
So did you hear about the possible snow hitting Seattle sometime yesterday?  Never happened near me.  The pressure system never dropped low enough and the magic of great big bodies of water kept it freezing cold and wet, but no white.  IN MY HEAD, however, the pressure system did a number on my sinuses.  Holy mother of all that is wintery grey and dismally wet, my head feels like it's about to explode and I really don't feel like taking the maximum allowed number of ibuprophen gel caps in a 24 hour period.  Last night as I was falling asleep on the couch--too much advil does make me sleepy...hmm mayhaps my blood is too thin?--my eyelids felt as if they were wee little balloons hitting against the glass of my spectacles.  (Glass of my glasses just sounded dumb.  And really, how often do we get to say "spectacles" now-a-days, eh?)  What's worse is that I wake up okay, feeling good, "can-do" attitude, the whole deal.  By about oh, I dunno 10AM I WANT TO DIE.

--with apologies to T.S. Elliot...
This is the way the year will end,
This is the way the year will end,
Not with a bang, but a whimper....

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year...

There is nothing like rolling into work at 8-almost 30 and finding you are the third car there.

I'd feel all bitter and put out, except, I got a whole bunch done!

I'd also feel nostalgic about the whole "xmas/holdiay/winter break" I got as a teacher, except, yeah, I always found myself going in, if not yesterday, then definitely today to get caught up or (gasp!) get a chapter ahead of the game.

And it's Thursday already!

To Good Friends and Bad Xmas Specials...

BIG SIGH.

It is Wednesday, I am still here. There's still left-over posole AND tamales AND egg nog cake (right L?) in the fridge and wow, I honestly didn't expect any good comments or emails after my last post.

I had no idea I was voicing the frustrations of strangers galore, thank you for the acknowledgments and the reinforcement. Hear that Universe? I am not alone!

I feel a wee bit odd to be one of the only people out there who can blast it all out in the open instead of bottling it all up. I blame it on the holidays, you really can cut the stress with a knife in some places...take the grocery store last Thursday... I think if more people were able to vent and not be afraid of the consequences? (Cuz really, I'd rather face the consequences than go on blood pressure medication any day.) We'd probably have fewer naked people getting killed on I-5 when they start hitting cars with their belts and attacking state troopers. I can't make this stuff up, really.

But take heart, we're in the home stretch. What?!? Right. most of you are done, hurray! I call it all over with come the morning of January 6th when I will much on "Three Kings" cake and hazzah, all go bye bye until next season.

So did you all catch "Christmas Comes to Pac-Land?" Apparently I'd blocked that atrocity out of my conscious thoughts, quite happily, mind, for all these years! This was created in the era of "bringing to life" video game characters, I get, this, but Pac Man and familia? And the threat of being "chomped?" Pac Man eats everything, I got that, I mean, that's the point of the game, but the whole ghosts threatening to "chomp" you? I don't remember the ghosts eating anyone, I kinda thought they sucked your pac-energy or something, but no, they chomp and leave you a crumbled mess, ewww.

And speaking of ingredients for nightmares, "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" was brimming with them. Not the obvious ones: Abominable, ice flows, getting beat up by punk reindeer. I'm taking about evil Hermey the Elf/wanna be dentist. Talk about the foundation for the Little Shop of Horrors! HE PULLS OUT ALL OF ABOMINABLE's TEETH! Or how about the "Island of Unwanted Toys?" How easy it would be to threaten young children with sending them to the "Island of Unwanted Kids" if they won't let you watch the show! Not that I did. The only ones under the age of 30 at J & L's would be their kitties, who are warm and sit on your feet, aaaahhhh. I need me a foot warmer.

Okay, time for work and stuff. I'm hoping everyone took today off, that would be a wonderful xmas gift for me.

Happy Wednesday!

Can it Be Wednesday Already? Please?!?

This is my disclaimer for the following: If you are easily offended, or delve far too quickly into the world of depression, or really can't remember that this blog is indeed about me and my feelings and my reactions and I give a shit what you think about it or me, find something else to read.

I'm writing this post to help get all of this out of me, it has nothing to do with you.

The problem with holidays is that too many memories are formed around them and feelings and stress levels and everything are at an all-time high. This is why spending this particular holiday in Mexico where the point is being around family and the highlight is midnight mass, or at a Jewish friend's house who used it as an excuse for a huge meal for good friends, has always been more my liking.

Unfortunately those are also the reasons I would really much rather skip today, tonight and all of tomorrow and just be sitting in front of my computer doing data entry like it was any other day. Cuz when you're dealing with all the craziness of my past? And especially these past few months? Yup, today has been much too hard already, and yes folks, it's not even noon yet.

This morning I could not sleep in. Simply could not. My body said, "Hello! It's Monday! GET UP!" at about 4 AM and I thanked it for remembering it was a weekday but lo and behold, it is xmas eve and I can sleep in! Really!

My subconscious had other plans; as for the next 2 hours it barraged me with horrible nightmares, culminating in the one that finally made me get out of bed--one where my XDH (Demon Husband in this case) was at my door demanding that I let him and his "Fill-in-the-blank for woman who leaves her husband to sleep with mine and oh yeah she has 2 small children and when his mom comes to visit them she high-tails it out of town with her kids because my XMIL is too horrid a person to be around her and her kids) "girlfriend" come in and stay at my place because Andy has invited them and what the hell am I still doing here as I am not allowed to even be in the same breathing space as "her mentioned above" (I'd give her a name, but that would mean that I A) Care enough, and B)Would bring my PG rating down to something fierce).

Yes, I know that obviously in the land of Nod I have many unresolved issues. This is ME we're talking about, remember?

So I get up and I wonder if I can really make it today. Cuz you know that friend I mentioned not too long ago that passed on? Right. I'm still not over that one. I mean, last Wednesday when we all went out to celebrate a friend's birthday and they started gabbing on about the wine, I nearly lost it.

I equate wine knowledge far too much with him. As I do most holidays as I spent far too many years helping with Turkey day preparations in his wee little cabin and big family style xmas dinners. Cuz when you're not Catholic you can spend hours and hours and hours on the food and not worry about wrapping paper and tinsel and trees and Santa Claus and all that other stuff that made everyone miss their families. He also hosted an awesome Easter dinner.

And the last xmas I spent at his house we made tamales, and by god if we didn't end up finally sitting down to eat until almost 2 AM and stayed up far to late watching all these conspiracy theory DVDs and how will I make it through tonight? (I love you L, and I hope you forgive me if I start crying in your tamales.)

With that in mind I fire up the old mini to check the USPS website cuz there just has to be word on that damned package right? -- no information as yet, thankyouverymuch, when I get to read the comment my brother left on my site. OOookaaay. Thanks. Berate me on my website, today, of all days. Thanks. I mean, you couldn't email me? You had to post a comment? WTF?!?

I know, I'm over-reacting. It's what I do. I really really can't help it. Today of all days! And yes, I'm ranting about it on the blog for all the world to see, cuz when I read the comment, I lost it. I could not hold it together any more. But I emailed an explanation, an apology, and edited my blog. Then another apology as it seemed I apologized for the wrong thing, and yes, I lost it again. I did mention emotions running kinda on the high side?

All before 8 AM.

After 8 AM the anger started filtering through.

I hate being an adult, having to remember to keep calm, to breathe, to look at the other person's side lest I really lose it and overreact over something so small, so insignificant when compared to everything else going on... Everyone is living in their own megalomanaiacal universe. It really is all about me, me, me. And how dare you offend my sensibilities! How dare you die and leave me to feel shitty?!? How dare the world be all commercialism and presents? Why the fuck isn't that box delivered yet?

But anger is tiring. It's just blame-storming and all I want to do is crawl into bed and make it all go away. Is it telling that one of the thoughts that keeps me going at this point in time is that I must outlive my parents, after that, all bets are off.

If I have shocked or offended you with this post, you really should have taken my disclaimer to heart. I am leaving town in just a few minutes and so I ask that if you feel the need to tell me what a dumb ass I am, just email me. I will get back to all on Wednesday or so.

And yes, believe it or not, I feel much better now.

Happy Holidays!

My Lack of Faith Disturbs Many...

I am trying so very hard to not be both too cynical or disappointed, but it is most difficult. See this:
I keep telling myself that it is not the last vestige of their existence. That their physical selves are in actuality still whining their way South and that there will be post on Monday and that my family will indeed get their gifts and goodies.

Cuz no, Virginia, the package has still not reached my folks in LA. Yep, mailed it on MONDAY. The website, and the read-out at the PO said WEDNESDAY. Hello? IT IS SATURDAY now. Priority Mail, Delivery Confirmation, AND Insurance. It's that last one I think that has screwed me. I have never ever ever used insurance for any package I've sent LA. Even the 18 sent from Hawai'i in '04.

Murphy is not my friend.

I would really rather not have to cash in the insurance. Please oh please all that is holy and unexplainable in the universe, I am begging here, do not make it so I get to see what it's like to fight the postal system for a hundred bucks! I'd really rather my family got their gifts. Really. Even if it's not until next Friday.

ETA: I'm told the "website" and PO read-out at the counter were both "estimates." If I cross my fingers any tighter I won't be able to type anymore...

My mother has become rather positive in her um "mature" years. She honestly thinks Monday will be the day (!--her emphasis). I'm ready to light a candle over here. I really wish I could be as sure as she is, unfortunately I also have a very active, dark, and NEGATIVE imagination. I blame reading Animal Farm when I was nine years old. A fairy story indeed.

Anyhow, yup, those are the hand-made stockings. I spent over three weeks of my life on them. Three very long weeks that I will never see again. But instead of dwelling on that thought, or maybe the one about some POS that has the stockings hanging in his house and/or sold the gifts for xmas meth, I will delve into some details about the stockings for you:

The dark, dreary one is for my wanna-be-a-goth little brother; best described as "very unique" by my SIL. Personally I just think he's a big weirdo, like his older sister. Long nails and black nail polish indeed. I almost gave him satanic jewelry and black eye-liner, but really, my parents had to deal with all of my shenanigans 18 years ago, why put them through it yet again? Besides, all he'd really have to do is find the box filled with things from my teen years and he'll be in wanna-be-goth heaven. I love my lil' bro, really I do, but um, I at least have the translucent skin that never required the white powder make-up. My LB? Well, um, let's just say he did not get that trait. Let's also just say that people NEVER asked my parents if he really was theirs or had they stolen him from the white folks up the street.

I thought it apropos that it be right next to my niece's OH-SO-PINK stocking. Yes, those are "princess" patches that I made myself. (I did say three weeks?) Double-faced interfacing is a god-send. Tracking down princess fabric and waiting in a line longer than anything the Apple Stores have ever seen was not the best task for one such as me when all I needed was a strip that contained the 4 princesses. (Snow White and um, Ariel maybe? are on the other side, yes, with more bells, I really liked the bells.) Instead of pulling out the scissors in my bag, though, I waited and bought way more fabric than I needed, cuz you know, with my luck? If I'd only gotten exactly what I needed bad bad things would have happened and the patches would have flailed hard core. Instead? Perfect first time around. (PS, if you get that glue stuff on whatever you're ironing on? Use the same trick as what you would for candle wax, iron a piece of paper bag over the goop, and presto, no more icky-glue stuff on your favorite towel.)

In blue was going to be a Thomas stocking for my nephew, only, I could not find the fabric. So sad. And I am not so creative as to go wild with the felt and make one from scratch...I leave that to the experts. Besides, there was, hee hee, Christmas Pooh to be had (I am twelve)! Also double-sided and yeah, more bells!

Older brother and SIL get the mixie-matchie pair. I almost really mixie-matched them by sewing the wrong pieces together...but thanks to the fact that my scissoring skills are not what they once were, one was a teensie bit bigger than the other, so the mistake/idea was shot down pretty quickly.

Okay, I'll end it here.

I'm listening to Cheech & Chong's "Santa Claus and His Ole' Lady" and all I can wonder is how all the terror laws would have changed the lyrics...but we're practicing thinking positively, so instead I'll leave you with a little Bing Crosby:

Mele Kalikimaka!

My Father's Daughter

-OR-
The Christmas Spirit is Strong in this One...Not!

So you know that scene in "El Norte" when the old man is telling the young Indian guy the secrets of how to not be accused of NOT being Mexican if the INS/Police catches you? (I'm feeling an odd sense of deja vu here, did I already spout this maybe same time last year? I am far too lazy to check so I'll solder-on instead, tee hee.) Where was I?

Oh yeah, so when my dad watched this bit of the movie he got very angry. The old guy pretty much told the young guy to swear up a storm. Cuz those Messicans swear just about every other word! (And my dad, oh my dad, got so mad he swore up a storm right then and there WHILE DENYING that what that old man had just said had any *#!$-ing truth to it...hee hee.)

Why do I dredge this memory up again?

Picture it, Scicily 1921...I mean, Wallingford Post Office 2007...
I go to that post office for one reason and one reason only: They have not 1, but 3 parking "lots." (Wee little things, but we take what we can get around here.) But all is lost if you turn at the wrong time and/or a white suburban decides to ruin your evening, or bring out the Mexican in me...

$&%!-ing xmas spirit!

Really, I could not believe how mad I was.

The entrance into the first two itty bitty parking lots are down a skinny little street that is barely wide enough for the two way traffic when there aren't cars parked on either side. But we who have lived in Seattle (and any small towns with skinny roads due to the 15 feet of snowbanks 9 months out of the year) are becoming experts at the "one-at-a-time" "see-the-space, be-the-space" maneuvering that happens down these mean little streets.

So, after having fought tooth and nail to get out of work early, and then more fighting, dodging and weaving to even get as far as that little street near the post office, I turn to find my way blocked by cars cars cars. That's okay, I think, we're all going to the same place anyway, right? There is no other reason to turn down this wee little street unless you intend to go to the post office and/or drop off your mail in the mail boxes. We're all good.

Um, wrong again.

The cars in front of me wanted to go to the post office, as did the CARS going in the opposite way. But the HUGE, WHITE, SUBURBAN? No no no no no. She wanted to just pass on through. This would not have been a problem if we had not been the ones partnered to do the "little street shuffle." See, I wanted to turn RIGHT INTO THE DRIVEWAY where she had decided was the perfect spot to slip out of the way in and LET ME PASS.

Okay, so if I hadn't had my turn signal on, I could have let this one go. Understandable mistake on my part, etc. But I did just mention I HAD MY TURN SIGNAL ON? There was only one place I could turn into...her driver's side door - that oh so convenient driveway.

So I just sit there, wondering how to work this...and I look at her and point to myself and then to the driveway in that "Me, Jane, need go there" way.

She responds with, "Me, dumbass, need go where you are, please pass" hand gesture.

We were close enough so that she saw me frown, because she frowned and repeated that "go ahead and pass" thing, only, not so nicely.

I shook my head and repeated where I needed to go.

She began laying on her horn and pointing for me to get out of the way.

I lost it.

I don't remember how many different languages and ancestors I channeled, but every ounce of my Mexican nature (a la that whole swearing thing) burst forth (cuz really, if I honked? With my cute little Toyota horn that goes "eep eep" -- against her Suburban horn? So not worth the embarrassment. But remember how close we were? The look on her face even before I showed her the very obvious hand gesture that I was not pleased before I gave up and moved on, was so worth the scary left turn and extra couple u-turns so I could try again with her far far away.

AAAaaaauuummm.

Right. So that little bit of fun made my waiting in line for forever seem not so bad. I mean, really now, everyone INSIDE the post office was once again, all just trying to do the same thing and mail off packages and not piss off the postal workers.

We were all so deliriously happy to be there and not at home frantically trying to finish--or worse, still shopping for gifts that need to be mailed that we were in our own little euphoria.

Had this not been the case I might have used my metal DPNs to show the smelly couple behind me what personal space really means. Cuz really people, I don't care how much smoking has killed YOUR sense of smell, mine works, far too well and I really don't want you to keep pushing your legs against my bag, it's not going to make me move any close to the person in front of me!

Did I mention xmas spirit? Right. Wake me when it's over, I am so very burned out about it all.

....And We're Back!

My mom and I seem to be playing a game involving the USPS, I'm calling it, "This Ole' Box."

Mom received a package in what she considered a sturdy box. So sturdy that 'hey, this would work to mail off something to Seattle' (from LA). I got it, and before I'd even finished unpacking the box thought, 'hey, this would be perfect to mail off my nephew's birthday gift.' Back to LA before the priority stickers had a chance to get dusty. That is the game at it's most competitive. I mean, really, we'd have to take the "ole" out of the game title if the boxes took so little time to make the rounds.

Tonight, however, I have a more descriptive and fitting entry for the game.

I put the finishing touches on a box that was originally mailed from Hawai'i to LA filled with some light fragile things as I sent it priority (everything else was parcel post and nothing says deteriorated box like 6 weeks from Hawai'i to LA) back in 2004.

Of course mom kept the box and put it aside for later use. By me, again, from LA to Kings Beach, CA about mid 2005.

I take after my mom far too well, because not only was it around to move from Kings Beach to Seattle, WA, but was used for the move from the farthest reaches of North Seattle down to my current locale, just north of downtown.

Well, tomorrow night the box begins the return trip home, its 2 year circumnavigation of the Western United States to end in LA, well, that is, unless she's made a friend in Hawai'i, then, oh yes, the circle would be complete.

Whatever, all I know is that it's filled to the brim with xmas gifts and taped within an inch of its cardboard. What with the storm brewing outside, this might be a rough trek for our seasoned traveler. We wish him fair winds and calm seas....oh wait, sorry, lost myself there.

Right, I'm hefting that 12.5" X12.25" X9" box off to the post office in hopes that it won't cost more than a Jackson to get down to LA. Is it me or did they change the dimensions of what is considered a "small" vs "large" box on the USPS website? I know their boxes have shrunk a bit, which is why I had to dig deep to find a box that would fit my required dimensions.

NOTE TO SELF: Take a tape measure when you go shopping next year.

***
The contents of that box are what have kept me busy for the better part of the last three, maybe four, weeks. There is not one stitch of knitting in it. There are, however, hundreds of stitches of the other sort. I will post the picture soon, promise, but the thought of lugging the camera over here and fiddling with photoshop is just too much (nope, not my camera, still Andy's...but soon, oh so very soon) after all the wrapping and packing and box hunting and re-packing that transpired today.

It's very freeing, to be "done." I just wish I'd finished last week...I am a stress monkey and my doctor was worried.

NOTE TO SELF THE SECOND: DO NOT SCHEDULE YOUR YEARLY DOCTOR'S APPOINTMENT ON THE LAST DAY OF CLOSING OUT THE MONTH DURING THE HEIGHT OF THE HOLIDAY MADNESS! Your blood pressure will be too high! You will be agitated! You will talk too much cuz you know your BP is too high! RELAX! DO NOT STAY UP MAKING STOCKINGS THE NIGHT BEFORE! Crafting is not supposed to make your life MORE complicated! It's what you do to chill out!

And as such, there is still some clean up before I can guilt-lessly go nighty-night, but I just had to share that feeling of aaaaaahhhhh as I put the last piece of tape on that box (which then had to be removed, along with a whole bunch of its mates as I forgot to pack a crucial gift in the box...aaaarrrrgh.....Never, ever easy...).

Oh, and as a PS/PSA of sorts: Babes, peeps, and countrymen? I am THIS close to ditching xmas cards all together this year. It's not cuz I don't love you, but I think my next free day will be December 23rd and I'm really tired of sending "New Year's Cards" with xmas trees on them...so instead of feeling defeated, I am liberating myself of that bit of guilt all together. Let's just pretend I'm in Mexico/out of country again, 'kay?

We're Floating In Space...

This post brought to you by the letter X and the number 12,000,000.

As in, that's how many little pieces of paper I have to enter, pay, and then file before we close the month...

Is it telling that my iPod battery died during the lyric:
"Do you realize that everyone you know, someday, will die..." (The Postal Service)

Or that last night at 6:30 PM everyone with the word "Associate" or below in their working titles was still working away as hard as if it was still 3PM as the lyric "Never comprehending the race had long gone by..." from "I'll Stop the World & Melt With You" (Modern English) was blasting away in my ears (as I, in vain) pretended that it was 3PM as well.

I am very grateful that I can sit and listen to my music (via ear buds of course) as I wade through the sea of paper before me, but I really need to change the play list. My songs are sad and morbid for working late into the night or being here far too early in the morning (yey overtime).

So the big downside to all this extra work time?

I have not even started with the xmas shopping...I am so dropping the ball here....hello malls that open until far too late into the night...cuz yep, that'll probably be me, maybe even tonight, scurrying around trying in vane to find a short-sleeved woman's polo-style shirt (with the three buttons, mija) in a petite.

You know what? NO SUCH GARMENT EXISTS IN THE PACIFIC NORTHWEST IN WINTER!

sigh.

Ahem, okay, back to work...

Happy St. Nikolaus Day!

There is something calming and palindromic about St. Nick's day and "Little Christmas"/"12th Night"/the Epiphany both falling on 6's and exactly one month apart...ahhh the numbers....(okay, both are "eve'd on the 5th, really)

Today marks my Official Start to the "Holiday Season." Cuz one month? I can do one month. Tonight I start cutting out patterns and wrapping some gifts. Today I start worrying about having enough xmas cards and tee hee, enough stamps to mail them all...(Yet another year I wish all of my family and friends were as geeky as me and I could get away with eCards...) Tonight I begin the search for my mom's gift...which seemed a simple request at the time...

More to come...

Well, At Least She Didn't Call Me Elderly

I am obviously in a weird place in my life.

I have finally stopped flinching (but still pretend I can't hear them if someone is calling me from afar or behind me) at "ma'am."

I don't even bother with joking/getting excited about the "carding" thing. They want to see my ID because they probably just got cited and everyone in an over 21 establishment needs to be carrying some sort of ID, get over it lady, they do not think you are too young, no matter what story the waitress pulls.

Today though, a double-whammy:

Today I found out that the fellow I'm assisting is younger than me, by a wide enough margin that when he talks to me in Spanish he will use the "Ud." form. (It's a, um, case/style of speaking that is used to speak to say an older person, your boss, your parents/grandparents, people you don't know well/are only acquainted with. In English it would be the thee/the thing of olde.)

I can honestly say I had not noticed it until today when he made the mistake of using "vas" (the tu/informal instead of "va") and then quickly apologized because in the country he comes from, they don't really use the "Ud." form and that's when it came out that he'd been using the more formal speech with me cuz he knew that it was mostly a Mexican/Spanish thing and he was so very sorry and he does really respect his elders (oh yes he did); I felt so very old and I could have cried...I think the look on my face said it all as he kinda just went quiet and then said he was going to go help the other assistant, or something...(I'm six years older, BTW, I guess in young' un years that may as well be 50.)

Well, after that I felt no guilt whatsoever leaving work early enough to hit el banco.

I need a new bank. Not so much the global conglomerate that is rhymes-with-bells-cargo, but the physical branch that is closest to my house. I swear to all that is green and makes rich people go, no one in that branch is over 25. Also, maybe that branch attracts one too many "winners." They have that plate-glass thing that banks that were held up one too many times in the early 90s were required to put in, so instead of having a private conversation with your teller, your business gets blasted across the room because somehow the tellers think you can't hear them, and, like the woman in front of me, the patrons scream what they need at full volume. Very disconcerting.

The opposite of this is that the tellers think that you can't hear their private conversations. So I got to hear the teller to the right of mine wale about his inability to stay up yet another minute. And my teller explaining as she got my money, that the lovely coffee shop across the way only sold espresso and he would be far too wired for all of them if he did that.

I smiled and remarked about the propensity of PNWers and their addiction to the magical bean. Shocked I could hear her, she agreed and said, "It's even worse when people my age stay up all night partying and think they can work a full shift the next day." We both looked over at the teller at that point and he was all, "Why you lookin' at me!"

"We'll grow out of that, though, right?" She said smiling handing me my cash. (Did I mention she was about 22? With too much eye make-up and product in her hair?)

Until that point in time I had no idea that "smiling with only your mouth" was something that happened in real life, because people, I felt myself doing it. But the moment passed and I took my money. I'd asked for an odd assortment of bill values and I actually apologized for the weirdness of it, but she said, "Oh, this is nothing. The elderly ladies that come in usually have a very specific list of how much of what they want to have and are very insistent about it."

Ahem, how nice. At least, in her eyes, I'm still not a part of that category, yet. Except, yeah, it's 6 PM and I am so going to bed cuz I am no bank-tellering-all-night-partier. Instead I am one-day-closer-to-middle-age and it's not going to be pretty...besides, I think I've caught the latest "field-office-virus" from my wonderful co-workers...

(SIGH.)

Neither Snow, nor Rain, nor Dark of Night...

ETA:Quick grammar sweep, nothing new...
Time and talking and a little crying do a body good, do not let people tell you that crying won't help! God, how I hated that phrase as a kid.

I'm here to say, "I am a cry baby and proud of it!"

I'd shout it from the rooftops, but it is wet and muggy like Hilo got transplanted to Seattle or something. I was fighting the urge to just go out sans rain jacket today as I ran into the same problem I faced my entire time in Hawai'i: get sopping wet from the rain, or sopping wet from the sweat of wearing too many non-breathable fabrics meant to keep the rain off.

Of course this is all relative now...it's only about 55 degrees out there...yet, somehow, after living in Winter-is-10-months-long Kings Beach, CA, that's almost balmy! I'm sure in another year I'll have become acclimated to the mild-in-comparison weather that Seattle supposedly has...what with global warming and all.

I mean, we had our snow, was that just the day before yesterday? And now we are having a tropical storm. Nothing like nutty weather to keep you on your toes! And nothing like this weekend to be sitting around reading blogs, knitting and maybe catching up on some TV (I love having access to episodes on the internet...no wonder the writers are P.O.'d about not getting any cuts from that aspect of the shows! There may not be a zillion commercials, but there are ads, and I am so with you guys! (um, yes, I know the WGA does not read my blog, but you just never know).)

If the weather ever breaks again, and/or Seattle does not get washed away AND we get a break in the weather, I will update, with pictures even, on the status of my knitting-frenzy projects.

Happy Monday!