Archive for August, 2005

The ringing did not meld into my dreams. No, it ab…

The ringing did not meld into my dreams. No, it abruptly and completely woke me out of them. Before I even realized that I was awake, I felt adrenalin coursing through me. Before I realized that I was awake at 2.42 am because the phone had rung, I had lifted myself to my elbows, listening.

The second ring brought conscious thought. “Who this time?” “Not again.”

My mother’s answering machine picks up after 3 rings. I wait for the third to fade away and pad slowly, mechanically, down the stairs, my heart beating as if I had run down 15 flights. I stop about 5 feet from the answering machine and stare at it. “Who will it be? How will I hold her together again?” But both the phone and the answering machine hanging on the kitchen wall are silent. Long after I needed to, I stand waiting for the red light to blink, then turn around to stare at my mobile phone on the table. Nothing.

Heart rate returning to normal, I trudge back up the stairs and climb back into my bed. I lie on my back and stare at the ceiling, remembering. And thinking about how this is one of the few occurrences in my life where the melodrama isn’t self-created or intentional, but instinctual. Thinking about people who say, “at least when you lost him you were finished growing up. At least it won’t leave a scar.”


Has it spoiled you, too?

So I’m sitting at my desk at 4.30 trying to figure out if I want to be with people or by myself tonight. Somehow that train of thought leads to this: “Maybe I should start keeping a journal again to write in and express those really personal feelings.” Then I thought, “But what for, who would see it?”

Blogging has done this to me.

Slightly past-mid year resolution

I need to take more pictures. I need to bring cameras to times when I’m just hanging out with my friends, not only when it’s someone’s birthday outing, or a vacation, or some other special occasion.

Perhaps the reason I don’t do this already is because I don’t have a camera phone, or even a digital camera. That would be a good excuse, but I don’t think it’s the reason. The reason isn’t even that I’m lazy. It’s that those events that make up the majority of my existence, while pleasant, they don’t feel particularly special at the time. “Sure I’d love to come over for dinner and hang out.” Who thinks of that as an event worthy of recording? But those are just the sort of times I’m going to look back on in my quickly-approaching old age and wish I had recorded.

People move in and out of our lives so fast. Relationships morph, communications falter, life changes and you look back and realize that you don’t have proof of any of it.

Some things you never knew you wanted to know about me

In general, I am not a neat and organized person. In fact, when I finally received the title to my car in the mail, I had my mom keep it. I’ve lost things like that before. There are certain things though, about which I’m very particular. For one, I’m quite organized at work. Especially the way I have my computer set up.

What prompted this entry was my accidentally shutting down Outlook while closing out a few other programs (read: web browser windows). But, you see, I always have to have Outlook as the very first program on my taskbar…so I had to close out all my programs and reopen them again so Outlook would be on top. Also, unlike most people I know, my task bar must be on the right hand side of my screen. Observe:
Also take note of my carefully organized “Quick Launch Toolbar.” This is so I neither have to go to my desktop nor my Start button for my most frequently accessed programs. I have even created quick launch icons that take me to two of the directories I use most frequently. When I do use my desktop, however, all my icons must be lined up in neat and straight little rows like so:
All of this is in complete contrast from the rest of my life. The inside of my car looks like a person addicted to Dunkin Donuts Coffee has been living in it for months, my dresser drawers take whatever the laundry basket throws their way, and I couldn’t possibly tell you where the paperwork from last years tax returns is located, although I know I made all the requisite copies.

I lead a double life.

Lori, you can be such a bitch!

I don’t usually post much about work anymore, but this is too funny not to share. And the only person it reflects badly on is me, so I figured it would be OK.

I have a dreaded duty at work. It’s slightly outside of the normal scope of things I do, and I really don’t have any expertise at it. Unlike the majority of what I do here, it’s something I don’t enjoy. Hey, it’s not a bad deal to have a job where you only have to do one thing you don’t like, is it?

Anyway, I got an internal call this morning from a co-worker asking me to change something having to do with this duty. She wasn’t presumptious about it at all, something just needed to be done. So I pleasantly tell her, sure, give me 5 minutes and it will be done. Like I’m supposed to do. Well then evil Lori appears as soon as I am off speaker phone. “Are you f-ing ridiculous,” I say aloud. “I mean seriously, all you have to do is _____, it would take five seconds but you have to call and ask me to do it.” In other words I was being completely and unreasonably grumpy about a simple request which I could have done in the time it took me to bitch about it. I look over at my phone and it still says “Call from ______”.

*faint* *panic* I quickly hang up, but it’s too late. One of my favorite people in the office has heard me say she’s f-ing ridiculous and it’s not like I meant it, evil Lori had taken over my body. What do I do? WHAT DO I DO?????

I’m a girl, right? So I decide I’ll cry. Crying always works with women of her generation. I run down to her office summoning all the sniffles I can muster on short notice. I slip into her office with my head down. “I’m so sorry, I’ve had a really bad day.” (True, in so far as it goes, and I’m absolutely ashamed of myself at this point.) “Awwww,” she says and gets up from her desk and gives me a hug. “What are you sorry for, what did you do? Can I help you with anything?”

Oh blessed relief. Somehow she didn’t hear that outburst of mine. How she didn’t I don’t know but SHE DID NOT. Safe. Safe and even more ashamed of myself after hearing her ask me what she can do for me!

That’ll learn you, you silly little girl.

I just have to say…

That I look pretty damn cute today. So there.

How’s that for sitting on the fence?

Thanks to Sarah.

Your Political Profile

Overall: 50% Conservative, 50% Liberal
Social Issues: 75% Conservative, 25% Liberal
Personal Responsibility: 50% Conservative, 50% Liberal
Fiscal Issues: 50% Conservative, 50% Liberal
Ethics: 25% Conservative, 75% Liberal
Defense and Crime: 50% Conservative, 50% Liberal


A blog about my life and other stuff.

Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song,
A medley of extemporanea;
And love is a thing that can never go wrong;
And I am Marie of Romania.

Dorothy Parker, Not So Deep as a Well (1937)