coffee table book

Is it wrong that I want this book? Come on, the conversations would be fantastic! I wonder if there's a pop-up version?

Better yet, watch the video (NSFW)!

Update: since I was on the topic of penises (or is it peni?) I found a site for a film, "My Penis and Everyone Elses". All I have to say is, poor guy.

my 4's

My 4's
A) Four places that I go to over and over: Barnes & Noble, park around the corner, Stop & Shop, work
B) Four people who e-mail me (regularly): Josee and my cousins: Jen, Melinda, Michele
C) Four of my favorite places to eat: mom's house, Chili's, Witherspoon Grill, Panera Bread
D) Four places I would rather be right now: Paris, Florence, Australia, Key West
E) Four people I think will respond: Kristen, Skim, Viv, Chelsea
F) Four TV shows I watch (regularly): Family Guy, The Daily Show, Colbert Report, anything on HGTV

What are your 4's?

Lost

'Uncontacted tribe' sighted in Amazon

Woah. Native indians in the Amazon region were sighted. These people have been living a primitive life without any contact from the modern world. It completely blew my mind to think that there are still people out there who have not been touched by outsiders.

I hope they don't get bothered. I hope that no one encroaches on their living area. I see it as hopeful that they have survived so long without us, why should we think they need us now?

he gets to live

My cousin's son is 9 years old, and is most of the time a pain in the ass. Everyone is desperately waiting for puberty to hit him because he has this whiny, high-pitched voice that goes through me like fingernails on a chalkboard.

Last night at my mom's house for dinner, she brings out the birthday cake. On it is "Happy 35th Birthday"

He yells, "35? You're 35? I thought you were 25!"

On my birthday

Every year on my birthday, I have these conflicting emotions.

I'm excited that's its my day, my special day. As far as I'm concerned it should be a national holiday complete with parades, fireworks and open bar. I should wake up to rainbows and butterflies, breakfast in bed served by a hot, juicy man. I will be instantly thin, fit, tan and my hair will grow down to the middle of my back, all curly and bouncy. My eyesight will be 20/20 and I can lose the glasses and contacts. I will start my new career of rating spa retreats around the world. Yes, a very Sixteen Candles idea, I know.

Then the other feeling is more like "big deal". I start to question my accomplishments, what I've contributed back to the world, what my life goal is. The honest truth is that I don't know. I can look at the tangible things I've collected in life: a home, a car, a dog, an education, a job; but does all that add up to be a description of who I am? A consumer?

I've been paying attention to the changes of the world lately -- political, environmental, social, and it scares me. Where are we as the human race heading? There is so much to do and I wonder what can one small person like me do to change anything. It's an overwhelming feeling.

But then the birthday wishes come in from friends and family from all over. From those who are a part of my every day life and those who come and go for brief moments but make such an impact. It reminds me that I'm not insignificant, that to someone their life is affected (for better or worse) because they know me. It those thoughts that make all the difference and makes my birthday a little brighter.

remember when...

This weekend I had the pleasure of reuniting with a bunch of coworkers from PR Newswire. We hadn't been together for almost 10 years.

We met at a bar in NYC on a rainy Friday afternoon.

What was the best part is that there was no weirdness after being apart for so long. First the conversation was "What are you up to now?" and we talked about our current jobs, current lives. Then the conversation turned to Remember When....

Remember when:

• We had a 'team building activity' to go see The X-Files movie?
• Claudine and Sueryun would talk in that Arnold Schwarzenegger voice?
• Andrew and Chelsea were outed as a couple?
• Shara got a computer monitor full of silly string?
• We would take the ferry over to World Trade Center for lunch?
• We would drink at Markers?
  

Time quickly passed and soon it was 12:30am. I had to catch my train back home. By this time the rain ended so I walked with Andrew and Chelsea back to Penn Station. I walked down to NJ Transit and hopped on board a waiting train. Everything seemed perfect.

Until I fell asleep and woke up two stops past my own. A $50 cab ride later, I was back home at 3am.

The next day I met up with Andrew and Chelsea at their friends' BBQ in Pt. Pleasant. I had such a fun time. Good people, good food. And then Rock Band came into the house.

I sang (I sucked), I played guitar and I played drums. Drums were my favorite. We played until well after midnight, and for us, that was late.

Today's Horoscope

This is my horoscope for today:

There's a fight about to bust out today, and you'll be lucky enough to have a front row seat for all the action! The two warring parties, in your humble opinion, are equally in the wrong -- so this should be an interesting battle to witness! Get ready for some ridiculous mud slinging and rather petty behavior. Before this thing winds down, you'll have a much better idea of who is the lesser of these two evils. Remind yourself never to cross them in the future.

I have to say, I'm excited. A fight! And I get to just sit back at watch... and judge others. I'm so good at that!

Exes Part 1: Pat

I was going through some photos today and came across a ton that spanned my school years. I was completely taken back to each moment in time when those pictures were taken and I was filled with nostalgia. These pictures didn't deserve to be hidden away in a box in the top shelf of my closet; they needed to be treasured.

That's when I decided to start a series of posts about ex-boyfriends. My tribute to them.

I start with Pat. And for those who know him, it's only fitting that I start with him.


Me and Pat at a Springsteen concert in 1993.

Pat and I met in college during the first week of school. He lived exactly two floors below me and was in my Psych class. We got drunk many times together, pledged in the Greek system at the same time and even shared a bed a few times. Nothing ever happened then because I we were always dating someone else. Plus, he was such a good friend. It was hard to think of him otherwise. It wasn't until the summer after our freshman year where that changed.

He lived in Hazlet and I would often go down there to hang out or go to the shore. He had a motorcycle, a little Kawasaki rice-burner, but it was damn fun!

The following fall, we both moved into our sorority/fraternity houses and hung out together a lot. He was starting to ask me "Why won't you go out with me?" and I resisted because we were such close friends. But eventually I gave in. He was cute, fun and such a compliment to me; it was only a matter of time, really before we became a couple.

We dated from sophomore year all the way through my senior year. He had become not only my best friend, but a friend to everyone in my sorority. He was the 'sweetheart' for two years in a row. He was my sweetheart for longer.

But as the years went on, we started to go our separate paths. I was concentrating on getting out of college, he was concentrating on winning the Silver Keg award in his fraternity. I was the president of my sorority, he was "Dirty Pat". We went through ups and downs and ultimately I broke his heart.

The good thing is that a year later, I reached out to him out of the blue and restored our friendship. I loved him, and I believe once you truly love someone, you never really stop.

I wonder where he is now. I heard he was married and living near Keyport. I hope he's happy and doing well. I would love to get back in touch with him just to catch up on life. Patrick Corcoran, if you're out there, I'm looking for you!

Jury Duty: Part Duce

I went into the court room for jury selection. I wasn't even called to be questioned. I wouldn't have minded if I was.

The case was about a guy suing a ski company (his prior employer) for injuries sustained by using their equipment. He went over a bump, fell and got hurt because one of his skis didn't fall off like it was supposed to. They estimated the case would take about 8 days.

I'm already biased. 'Skiing is a risk. You knew that as soon as you strap on those skis. Deal with it.'

The judge was asking interesting questions to the jurors for selection.

• Education level
• Do you ski? Were you ever injured skiing?
• What bumper stickers do you have on your car?
• Favorite TV show? Favorite reading material?
• Do you have an opinion on the amount of injury lawsuits in the legal system (Yes, I do!)

Finally the 8 jurors were selected for the trial and we were excused. But not for the day. I'm still back in the jury selection room waiting for the day to end.

Jury Doodie

I hate Jury Duty. I've been called to seal the fate of my peers today. Well, at least I've been called to sit in a room with a few hundred of others to sit and wait and be bored to death. But first we have to watch that horrible video of what happens in a court room.

I've been through this twice before.

The first time was on my birthday. I think I had turned 25. All I did was sit in a room. I didn't get called into the courtroom. I didn't get to sit on a case. All that was fine with me, but I was just annoyed that I had to waste my birthday indoors.

The second time I was called to jury duty was 4 years ago. I was called to sit on a murder trial. As inconvenient as it was to my employer, it was pretty interesting. As we deliberated in the jury room, we reenacted the event that led to the stabbing. We needed to figure out, based on the angle of the stab wound, if the thrust was intentional or in self-defense. This was the sticking point with us. Ten of us believed that the stabbing was an act of self-defense. The other two didn't. For a few days we tried to sway the two, but no luck. After a week and a half of the trial, we ended with a hung jury. I was very unsatisfying and sad.

I'm a petit juror today. I have no idea what that means.

The training video is playing now. Corny background music and an overly enthusiastic person explaining the whole process. This is the same video that I saw 4 years ago, and most likely the first time i was here.

I don't know how long I'll be in this waiting room, which means I don't know how long I'll have internet access. But I've brought other things to occupy my time: my journal, my iPod, and my book that I'm currently reading, "A Thousand Splendid Suns" by Khaled Hosseini.

Already there's dissension among the jurors. There's a person who just doesn't want to be in this auditorium to watch the video. She's standing along the edge of the door, and can watch the damn thing, but according to one of the proctors, "she just has to be in the auditorium and have a seat."

Ooh, that woman is such a rebel.

I bet the woman nest to me is reading this as I type.

Hi, lady.

Good Things

I have the best horoscope today.

Things are turning around in your life. Change make take you in an unexpected direction. That person who you thought didn't know you were alive suddenly is super-chatty with you. That bill you were dreading arrives, and it's not nearly as bad as you thought! This spate of good energy might not last too long, so enjoy it while it is here! The good things happening to you might be so subtle that they are beyond comprehension, but who cares? These are good days to savor and smile.

This comes in on the tail end of a great weekend where I connected with old co-workers and my family. (I'll post about that later.)

Then this morning driving into work on a cold, rainy day Howard Jones' "New Song" came on the iPod. You know how ducks look all graceful when floating on a lake, but underneath their legs are flipping away like crazy? That was me in the car. From the window, I'm all calm, concentrating on the drive into work. But what wasn't seen was my ass shaking all over the seat.

(Ooh.. now Pete Townsend's "Let My Love Open The Door" is on and I want to dance on my table!)

So back to my horoscope. I'm glad this came up, because I FEEL that change and silliness is just around the corner. I've been stressing about car payments, bills, and other adult nonsense so much lately. It feels good to just be.

We can be heroes

So NBC is working on creating Heroes action items. Why?

I loved this show in the first season. I was religious about tuning in every Monday to keep up. Season two was more of a let down. As far as I'm concerned, the series is over. The writers strike had a lot to do with that.

Buy why come out with the action heroes now? Is the network trying to reserect the show? I don't even know if I care about it anymore.

anxiety

I have been filled with anxiety a lot lately. The cost of gas, the shortages of food around the world, the economy's in the shitter... and then my car started to die.

I loved my 2002 Pontiac Sunfire GT.

It was stick, had a sunroof, and it was tough. But it also had over 136,000 miles. Just before I left for vacation, it decided to konk out on me and I needed to have it towed to the auto shop. A tune up, new catalytic converter and almost $1000 later, I knew it was time for a new car.

I hated the whole process of car hunting. I hated negotiating. I hated feeling that I was being taken advantage of. But what I hated most was the thought of having car payments again. For 3 1/2 years I was free of car payments. I was able to put money into savings and build my 'rainy day' money.

Now all that is changed. I bought a new car, a blue Scion TC.

It's cute and I love it. Everything I wanted came standard on it. Stick, sunroof, cruise, iPod controls This car is totally me.

But now I have to stick to a very tight budget just to keep from going into debt. Mortgage payments, insurance, loans, food, utilities. I've had to cut the amount of money I transfer to Savings by half. And now I think student loans will start with the repayments.

I see random, spontaneous vacations slipping away. I see shopping binges slipping away. I see more brown-bagging lunch. Every purchase will need to be thought out, "do I really need this?" And what's worse is that I don't see it getting better any time soon.

I'm not living paycheck to paycheck, but its getting close. This is what keeps me up at night.

scene of the crime: Update

I finally found out what happened back there.

Teens found partially clothed, disoriented in South Brunswick.

So, were they just drunk/high? Did someone violate them? Scary stuff!

scene of the crime

I woke up this morning to the sound of helicopters outside my bedroom window. There were two just hovering over the back of my townhouse development. I thought there might have been an accident on Route 1.

Later on, as I was walking Barry, one of the kids waiting for the school bus was taking pictures of the choppers with his cell phone. That's when I noticed the police tape.


What the hell? There was a police car parked in front of the tape. I asked what was going on, but he got all coy. "You gotta watch the news."

"Is is bad?"

He just shrugged and gave me a goofy look. DAMN! I want to know these things.



So I hurried Barry along and as soon and he pooped, I turned him back to go home. I went from local news channel to local news channel hoping to find some of the aerial shots, or at least a story of what was going on. Nothing. I went online to the local news stations and the local paper for any breaking story developments. Nothing.

This is going to bother me all day? Is there a bear on the loose? A psycho killer? Is there a body found along the creek?

Must. Find. Out.

All grown up

Why is the Vanity Fair shoot with Miley Cyrus such a big deal? I mean really, there was no boob, no crotch shots, and people are walking the streets of Main Street, America with less clothes on.

She didn't pose for Playboy, or even those second rate mags like Blender or Maxim. She had Annie Leibovitz as her photographer, for chrissakes!

What pisses me off, is not so much the media scrutiny, but that Miley pussed out and said that she was embarrassed about the photo shoot. Sure, she's only 15 and still a little girl. But it would have been a perfect opportunity to stand up to the media and own up and stand by her decision (and her dad's, and managers, and all the other handlers she has).

Poor form, Miley. You could have had the best of both worlds, but you blew it.

resurrected

I think it's about time to start this up again.

Stay tuned...

repressed

I came back from Italy in April and never wrote about it. I came back from Mexico last week and haven't written about it.

But last night I had a dream where I was with Matthew McConaughey getting hot and heavy. But when I left to find a condom, I never went back.

What the hell?! I can't even get lucky in my dreams!

In other news, if my ex's wife was more adventurous, he would definitely ask me to join them in a threesome. I was told to take that as a compliment.

false advertising

Down in the right-hand corner of this blog is a Google advertisement that's supposed to be contextual with what is written on the page. Today the ad showed Gay Bear Chat. WTF?

ewwww

Cicadas are back. I hate them. They're gross.

Who Farted?

Who Farted?
Originally uploaded by bearclau

It is an incredibly slow work week. I leave for vacation on Friday for a week in Mexico, which means that I don't want to be at work.

I found a way to entertain myself, though. Post-it notes and a camera.

Good times.

i luv u daddie

In more Paris Hilton news, her parents went to visit her in jail on Father's Day.

"[Paris] made a beautiful Father's Day card with pretty pictures," she told reporters. Rick Hilton said that it was a "positive" visit.

I picture the card being made out of dried macaroni, tissue paper and crayons.

now i'm hungry

I leave for vacation on Friday. This week at work already has the makings of going very slowly.

I was surfing around and came upon this site, Grocerylists.org. It is exactly what it says. It's a site full of scanned grocery lists that have been found by the site owner.

I am strangely fixated on looking at the mundane items that people have on their grocery lists. With over 1600 lists posted to this site I think I've found the best way to spend my work week.

sometimes

It's better just to do what someone asks (tells) you to do - no matter how dumb it is - rather than question why and provide alternative solutions. The less you care, the happier you'll be.

burnout, baby

I recently read a CNN article "Do you have job burnout?" I especially like numbers 3 and 4.

Consider these five warning signs of burnout:

Sign No. 1: Your co-workers are walking on eggshells around you.

If you find yourself becoming cranky and irritable with co-workers you used to get along with, it may be more than just typical interpersonal dynamics.

Sign No. 2: You come in late and want to leave earlier.

You used to wake up in the morning excited for another day, but now every day you dread heading into the office. Once lunch passes you start watching the clock, counting the minutes to the end of the day.

Sign No. 3: Apathy has replaced enthusiasm.

You feel no motivation, no sense of accomplishment and have no desire to be challenged. Those who have burnout lose their motivation to perform, as well as their feelings of pride for a job well done.

Sign No. 4: You've lost camaraderie with co-workers.

You're no longer interested in the company network. You used to go to lunch, go out for drinks and participate in other company functions but now have no desire in socializing in or out of the office.

Sign No. 5: You're feeling physically sick.

You always feel exhausted, have headaches, feel tension in all of your muscles and are having trouble sleeping. These physical signs are common indicators of job stress, and demonstrate that this can turn into a physical problem.

And I just thought it was because I was an asshole.

don't ask, don't tell

are. you. kidding. me.

Pentagon Confirms It Sought To Build A 'Gay Bomb'

Things that annoy me

In no particular order, these are things that make me want to scream.

• People who finish my or other people's sentences.
• People who make dumb jokes and then expect me to laugh at them.
• Long-winded back stories to explain the one little thing I need to do. I don't care.
• Drivers who don't use blinkers.
• My neighbor who insists on carrying her prissy dog when taking it for a walk.
  
• When people pronounce the "t" in the word often. Or the "l" in salmon.
• When I can't get a knot out of something.
• Whining kids.
• This baby's face. It's not cute. I want to crumple it up like a piece of paper and throw it away.
• People use use speakerphone in cubes next to mine.
  

Overheard at the cafeteria patio

Two IT geeks sitting next to me eating lunch.

Geek 1: I'm not sheisty enough to be a sales man.

Geek 2: I am! I worked at Circuit City and Best Buy.

My theme song

Your Theme Song is Back in Black by AC/DC

"Back in black, I hit the sack, I've been too long, I'm glad to be back" Things sometimes get really crazy for you, and sometimes you have to get away from all the chaos. But each time you stage your comeback, it's even better than the last!

What's Your Theme Song?

proof that i'm an asshole

I am an asshole. There really is no denying it. I've been complaining about everything at work and now it has expanded to complaining about the way people dress.

There is one person at work who particularly annoys me. We don't have a lot of contact unless I'm doing a small project for her, but she has the most annoying voice and does this "i'm trying to be cute" baby-talk when she asks for something. She does this to coworkers. She does this to clients. It makes me want to vomit.

Today she came into work with mini hair clips holding back her bangs. About six of them went across her scalp attempting to be a headband. She has reddish-blond hair. The clips were bright white. It was horrendous.

This is my IM trade with my friend who sits right next to me. She understands me and my asshole-ness.

me: look at melissa's hair when she comes back. i hate it

J: OK

J: I noticed her new color and hair cut

me: i like the cut, not the style today. very 12-year old hillary duff wannabe

J: I'll have a look. I did not notice

me: did you see??

J: hilary duff is more fashionable than that

me: it hurts me

J: the clips are a little tacky

me: they may as well have little rainbows or unicorns on them

She then said that I am in desperate need of some happy pills.

LEGO artist

Holy crap! I can't believe the stuff this guy makes out of LEGOs.
Read article.

It’s a wonderful day in the neighborhood

The strangest things can cause me to get such a lump in my throat I think I'm going to start sobbing.

Today I came across "15 Reasons Mister Rogers Was the Best Neighbor Ever."

Number 8 almost did me in.

8. He Could Make a Subway Car full of Strangers Sing
Once while rushing to a New York meeting, there were no cabs available, so Rogers and one of his colleagues hopped on the subway. Esquire reported that the car was filled with people, and they assumed they wouldn’t be noticed. But when the crowd spotted Rogers, they all simultaneously burst into song, chanting “It’s a wonderful day in the neighborhood.” The result made Rogers smile wide.

Presents

If anyone is pondering what to get me for my birthday, this is awesome!
Patricia Walker is an amazing artist. Thanks to Dooce for the link.

Canine infedility

I love Dooce's dog!
I can never get Barry to wear things on his feet or balance things on his head.

Silly dog.

The good old days

I stumbled upon this article and was reminded of my own battles of having to clean up my room.

CNN - "Girl calls for police help over messy room"

Growing up, my bedroom was on the top floor of a Cape Cod style house. It was a big room, which meant that I had so much extra space to leave things: my clothes, books, tapes, and anything else a 13-year old know-it-all would have.

My mom was always on my case to clean my room, but I never saw the point because no one saw my room. It was upstairs away from any visitors. My mom didn't agree with my opinion.

One one particular sunny Spring day I ignored my mom's threats of 'throwing out my stuff if I didn't clean up my room.' Like what was she really going to do?

I was watching TV in the living room when I looked out the window and saw a pair of pants, a hat, a sock sailing by. I ran outside and saw my mom, with my bedroom window open, throwing everything that was laying on my bedroom floor out the window.

It was pretty humbling picking my underwear out of the azalea bushes.

Happy Birthday to me - Part 2

I was asked what I did for my birthday last night by one of my coworkers. We're casual acquaintances, not really close. But he's the kind of person who says hello to everyone and starts small talk.

I'm not that kind of person.

I find him slightly annoying.

Anyway, being that it was Monday night, and that I'm single, I didn't have anything exciting to day. And I don't know why, but I felt bad about that. Like I should have been flown to Key West buy my handsome, millionaire sugar daddy just to have cocktails on Mallory Square just as the sun sunk below the horizon.

But my life doesn't play like that.

Instead I went and bought myself a great birthday present. A new bike!

I was so excited to get my bike. A little bit of sticker shock because, man if you're not buying at Target or Toys 'R us, those things aren't cheap. I brought it home on my bike rack and immediately started pedaling around the parking lot to get a feel for it. I saw Barry looking longingly out the window, then I decided to take him for a run. I rode, he trotted alongside me.

After he got tired, I left him home and I went off wandering on my new wheels.

I love my new bike.

Happy Birthday to me

It's my birthday today. 34.

Notice that I'm not punctuating it with an exclamation point. As in "It's my birthday today! 34!"

It's feeling like a very Sixteen Candles like day. I feel like the entire world should recognize my special day and it would be something magical. But it's not. It's just a day where I have to go to work and pretend to be busy.

I'm not ungrateful, don't get me wrong. Saturday night I went out with my friends to dinner and a club at the shore. It was a lot of fun and I enjoyed myself. We even made friends with some guys, one of which asked for my number, but I was not interested in him. Whatever.

Then yesterday, even though I was suffering from a cold, I was with my extended family and they all sang me "Happy Birthday" with a cake and candles and everything. But even all that doesn't seem like enough.

Part of me expects to wake up to a perfect day, fresh fruit breakfast, a closet full of brand new clothes, and an entire morning of spa treatments. Then in the afternoon I'd explore inspiring places: art museums, Tuscan landscapes, turquoise beaches, Parisian sidewalk cafes. And in the evening I'd have a moonlight picnic with dancing and cheesecake. And all of this would be with my very own Jake Ryan.

What is it about birthdays that bring me down? I guess that in my head I have my birthday built up to ridiculous proportions. It's the start of summer, a chance for a new beginning, an opportunity to be something more than what I was the year before.

Like I said, I'm not ungrateful. I've accomplished lots: I own my own house, I'm working towards my masters degree, I've traveled and have more trips planned, I have a great and supportive family, I'm healthy and not physically repulsive, I'm smart and don't have to worry about where my next meal is coming from. So in the grand scheme of things, I'm pretty well off. There isn't much for me to really complain about.

Yet I do.

I think of the times I've said "I love you." Some I wish I could take back because it was just dumb and naive of me. But there are those special few where I really meant it. And one in particular who could still make my knees week if he was to come back to Jersey.

But I have to believe that I'll say it again -- and mean it. It will be my birthday wish. That and my very own Jake Ryan t-shirt.

PocketMod

This is awesome!

bubblehead

I hate being sick. For the past 4 weeks I've been sniffling my nose, coughing up phlegm, and using massive amounts of tissue paper. This is the week that I've acutally gotten congested. I want to drill a hole in between my eyes and let the green slime run out. Ah, the relief of an empty head!

I'm trying to be inconspicous at work. I've been coughing into my sleeve as to not spread (any more) germs and I've been using the Purell stuff consistently. But no matter how hard I try, I just can't be cool when I breathe out my nose and snot bubbles come out.

hungover

hungover
Originally uploaded by bearclau.

Sometimes...

I have to remind myself that I'm at work, where it's not appropriate to let out a loud, long butt-cheek trembling fart.

the voices are telling me to kill you

I hate cats, but this is pretty f'n funny.

Thanks to Reecie for the link.

she'll learn

My new coworker, the young one who "really knows her stuff", doesn't slack on the job. Ever. It's a little un-nerving.

I have a lot of different things slowly loading up on my to-do list. And I'm also behind on my homework for school. And yet I will still waste time on MySpace, reading my horoscope, reading blogs, catching up on my news.

The whole time I can her J typing away on her keyboard, writing the storyboards for the three courses she is assigned to, asking intelligent questions and having the perfect phone demeanor to the clients she is working with.

I can't wait for the day until she gets as uncaring and jaded as the rest of us here.

stupid

I'm feeling pretty stupid at work lately. Like right now. And the only thing I can do to combat this stupidity is to stare blankly at the document I'm supposed to be writing -- or blog.

I'm going to grad school online to get a masters degree in instructional design. What's that you ask? I didn't know until I came into this training department. Basically, an instructional designer develops training (courses) that are optimized for learning.

Why am I doing this? Well, I was hired in the training department to do administrative stuff. Pretty boring. I quickly branched out to teach myself how to use Flash and other tools that were used for developing training courses. I also watched what the instructional designers were doing and thought "Hey, I can do that". And in a moment of spontaneity, I enrolled in an online program to get my masters. It was a good thing, too because the workload had slowed and my manager needed to cut some staff. I stayed because I was able to expand my skill set.

So now I'm doing project management work for the development of a course for the SOX-404 Compliance Process. There has been a huge turnover in the people assigned to my project, so when I lost one of the instructional designers, I volunteered to write one of the sections of the course.

At the time I thought it was a brilliant idea. I would be applying exactly what I was learning in my grad school courses. But the real world rarely mirrors what is taught in school.

The content of the course I'm writing is dull. Financial information always is. I've lost the initial excitement and now I feel stuck. A new instructional designer joined the team last week and she is young, pretty and really knows her stuff. She is grasping the content and knows the route she wants to take to develop interesting and successful material.

I sit staring at the computer going back and forth over using "but" or "however".

I hate my job. I need a new career. Maybe a face-painter at traveling circuses.

l'optomist éternel

I took a much needed road trip to Montreal this weekend. I went with Josee, my now unemployed ex-coworker. She used to live there and was craving a get away. I had been there last year and wanted to go back and see it as a local.

I took off work on Friday and we did the 8 hour drive straight North in the pouring rain.

As I drove through the Adirondacks, the leaves were at their color peak. Even against a gray, dreary sky they popped.

"Wow! Look how beautiful the trees are!"

Josee never even looked up from her Marie Clare magazine. "Ugh. I've seen enough foilage in my lifetime."

Talk about being cynical.

a plea for inspiration

It’s been months since I’ve written anything. Even my journal has been feeling neglected lately. I don’t know why I’ve stopped writing, but I feel guilty about it every time I see my journal sitting on the dining room table while I lay sloth-like on the couch watching tv.

I write to let out mixed emotions. I think that putting them on a page helps me to sort them out. I write so I can remember moments. I write so I can leave a history of my life to future generations. I write so my brain doesn’t rot.

But I keep finding excuses to not write. I have nothing important to say. I left my journal downstairs. I’d rather read another chapter of my book. Barry needs to be walked. House is on TV.

I write when I feel like my life is in some sort of emotional deluge; when I am romantically confused, financially troubled, spiritually empty. But right now I feel neither of these, and the moments where I should have written my thoughts down are gone. To try an recreate those moments just to put pen to paper would come out fake and impersonal.

I hope to find the inspiration to write again. My soul depends on it.

Like he hasn't left

Multimedia message, originally uploaded by bearclau.

Say Cheese

Multimedia message, originally uploaded by bearclau.

Just another day at work

Multimedia message, originally uploaded by bearclau.

Pigtails!

Multimedia message, originally uploaded by bearclau.

Bitter Tears

If there was any time to wish for rain all weekend, this would be the one.

Barry Cottontail

Barry Cottontail, originally uploaded by bearclau.

Dope

Dope, originally uploaded by bearclau.

Dope

Girls Night Out

, originally uploaded by bearclau.

How much is that naked man in the window

, originally uploaded by bearclau.

Boyrfriend shopping

Why is it that the freaks find me?

Here is an actual email from someone off of Match.com. I have editied NOTHING:

I am micheal from kansas , i am a machine electrical engineer i have something in come on,...Honest, caring, loyal, and respectfull., i dont like to hurt someone's feeling and i will not like to be hurted also. i love to make one happy and cool. i think you are nice and good to know more of you maybe someday we can meet and know our self in person , i really need a nice one to spend the rest of my life time and be happy with somene that will be honest and real with me and no game playing . i will be very glad to hear from you.......

i love to meet u ,i love ur photo so much,When I look into your eyes, it seems all the problems in the world go away and I'm floating in mid-air,When I see you, the world stops as if the only purpose in life was for me to please you.I may not get to see you as often as I like. I may not get to hold you in my arms all through the night. But deep in my heart I truly know, you're the one that I love, and I can't let you go. really want to meet u, and you really look sweet to me like a river that flows through the windows of a barchelor.

U CAN ADD ME TO UR YAHOO MASSAGER LIST SO WE CAN TALK PLS or OR U MAIL ME TO THIS I D
[freakshow@insane.com]

--
Um, yeah. I'm thinking the prison he's in allows for internet time.

SWF...available

I don't know if I'm ready or not, but I'm doing this online dating thing again. Or at least I subscribed to Match.com. I haven't done any actual dating yet.

So many of my coworkers use Match.com and from what I hear they have received countless contacts and one person in particular had gone out on a bunch of dates - all in one day. What I can't figure out is: where are all my winks and emails? Not only on Match.com, but on eHarmony, Chemistry.com, Yahoo personals... why aren't I bombarded by the freaks and weirdos, with the occasional good-looking sweetheart thrown in. I'm not hideous and I think I'm a pretty cool chick. I think my profile comes across that way, too.

Maybe the cosmic forces are doing a hell of a screening job for me. Maybe they're looking for the person that I wished for.

But then, I wished for Pete...

Pete the Pig

, originally uploaded by bearclau.

daily mantra

As much as I want to ask all my questions, I have to remind myself that it just doesn't matter. He didn't choose me.

Angry Lepreachun

, originally uploaded by bearclau.

dorothy vs. the cowardly lion

Today's horoscope:

It's time to plot your own course instead of feeling like you're a victim of circumstance. You need to realize you have much more influence on events than you previously thought. Make your actions count.

So Pete's answer to that three month old question "What's going on?" is still "I don't really know." No surprise. The whole drive to his place I kept repeating to myself "He's staying with Sarah," so that when he actually said it, it woudn't be that much of a shock. I don't understand. I asked him if he was happy and he hesitated before answering. That shouldn't be a question that you have to hesitate before answering, should you?

So I'm sad, but more for him. He lacks the courage to step up and do what's right for him.

Where does that leave me? Deflated. Short-changed. But a little smarter because now I know even more what I'm capable of in an (almost) perfect relationship and more aware of what I really need from someone else.

In other news, within one hour I was contacted by two recuriters to see what I'm up to. One of them is from a company that I was dying to belong to last year. They are very close to me, have a great reputation and from what I've seen, a great working environment. I'm not sure if I want to stay as an internet project manager. I think I want to see this instructional designer career change out some more. (I am enrollen in my masters for it.) But it won't hurt to update my resume and see what they have to offer.

Here's to making my actions count.

A Pooping Story

I am a public pooper.

However, I will try not to expose any innocent bystanders with offensive sounds and smells. I'm considerate like that. I normally try camoflauge techniques -- my favorite one is waiting for a neighbor to flush the toilet and I release all my contents at the same time. The flushing hides the sounds of splashing.

Today, luck was not on my side.

I felt that familiar urge sitting at my desk and casually walked quickly to the bathroom. Both end stalls were occupied leaving the center one for me. I sat and waited for my cue, but one of those little buggers pulled a fast one and made a run for the border. Damn! It was sneaky and evasive, making hardly a sound, but it left a trail of vapors. I, being so close to the finish line, was treated to the smell and I wondered if it penetrated the stall walls yet.

Before I could send silent prayers of condolense to my neighbors, I heard the shuffle of feet to my left. The warning bell indicated that the flush was soon to follow. I was in position -- feet firmly planted, suit jacket hoisted high up my back to avoid any backsplash. When the FOOSH of the toilet started, I relaxed my body and let gravity take over. But to my horror, a fart escaped! I was made!

My eyes widened and I was thankful that no one knew that it was me crouched in my semi-private world. Then the silent giggles started. My shoulders started to shake and I had to hold my mardi gras beads to keep them from tinkeling and giving me away. By this time the flushing had finished and I lost my opportunity to mask my offense.

I took a quick look under the stall to my right and recognized the shoes as those belonging to my co-worker. I decided I couldn't take the chance of another escaping noise or smell, so I waited it out.

Finally, as the bathroom door slowly closed on her exit I was alone to do what was required of me. Five pounds lighter, I washed my hands, fluffed my hair and re-entered the work floor carrying the secret of the Phantom Fart.

thinking out loud

One of the perils of waking up early, especially when you live alone, is figuring out how to spend your waking hours.

Barry woke me up at 5:30 to pee, then again at 6:30 to eat and again at 7:30 to poop. There was no way to fall back asleep after that. We laid in bed together for a little while. I read my book and Barry stretched out on top of me, his little fuzz head resting on my chest with his expressive eyes looking brightly at me. "Are we going for a walk?", he seemed to say. Barry has these wonderful brown eyes that look as if they're rimmed with black eyeliner. I read a few chapters, I grew tired of laying in bed. The outside thermometer said 20 degrees. There would be no walk today.

For the next 20 minutes I entertained myself, and Barry, by playing hide and seek. He'srun downstairs and when I'd hear the click-clck-click of his toenals on the wood floor, I'd run and hide behind a door or a bed and wait for Barry to huff and puff around looking for me. I made such a fuss when he found me.

Now it's almost 9:00 and I'm making a mental list of the things I want to accomplish today. Get shelf brackets and hang shelves, check out the new library, dust. Sounds exciting. Maybe I'll go out to Starbucks just to sit among strangers and write in my journal while drinking hot chocolate. Maybe I'm becoming a recluse. I'm lonely, but don't want to be bothered trying to entertain friends.

My scuba classes are over until the first weekend of June where I take my open water dive for my final certification. My master's classes don't start until next week. It's cold outside and my psyche desperately needs the warmth of spring. Peter comes back tomorrow after a week in Cuba. I miss him less than I noticed him not being around. I wonder if that means that my optimism is fading. Or I'm getting used to him not being around.

I've been thinking about Peter a lot this week. More like I've across things that reminded me of him. I finished a book where the main character lives in Toronto, I went to see a movie that he had seen recently, I drove through Princeton, and he did send me an email from vacation where he said he missed me.

Oh, I feel so stale. I'm not doing nothing, but I don't feel as if I'm doing enough - with my life, that is. I'm just holding my breath for the next big adventure.

Welcome to Seattle

West coast

resurfacing

The words just haven't been finding their way out on to paper or on screen. I don't know why - it's not as if I have nothing to say. Lately, when I had something on my mind, it was directly related to my relationship with Peter and I'm comfortable enough with him to tell him, whether it be good or bad.

I'm in another of those moods where I'm not quite right. Where I just don't understand him, his indecisiveness, and my desire to be with him irregardless. But I don't want to talk about him today.

Let's talk about something else. Let's talk about my trip to Seattle this weekend.

Sam, my ex-roommate is heading there for work next week. She decided to extend her stay to include the weekend before so she can explore the city, and knowing that I have never been there before, she invited me to go. All I needed to do was get there. I bought my plane ticket within minutes of her giving me the information. I so need to get the hell out of here and get a change of scenery.

I bought a Seattle guide book and devoured it cover to cover. Some must sees are the Experience Music Project, Pike Place Market, funky Freemont and of course, the Space Needle. I don't make exact plans mapping out my entire weekend, but instead just have ideas and just let whatever happen happen. I find it much more exciting that way.

I also going for my Master's degree. I work in the training department doing administrative, reporting and logistic stuff - nothing too exciting. I see the courseware developers and instructional designers and think "I can do that!". So I signed up for online classes - my first one starts next month. My manager happened to see the brochure on my desk and asked me about it. It's a good thing he saw it too, because my co-worker got laid off a few days ago because of not enough work. We did the same job, but I'm convinced that I was the one who stayed because I'm taking the initiave to take classes in ID and teach myself some of the software to do the development. To my manager, having multi-talented employees is a huge deal, so I lucked out.

Finally, and this is the coolest part, I signed up for scuba lessons. I've been saying for years that I wanted to learn. A few weeks ago I just decided to look up the dive shops, price out the classes and enroll myself. I had my first pool session last week and I loved it! But I'm a very impatient student. I just want to DO IT, to skip past the learning process and just know how to do it right the first time. I already can't wait until my final open dive for certification. I want to glide around underwater among the tropical reefs and converse with the fishies. In my daydream, I look fantastic in a wetsuit, too. Ah well.

My final open dive will probably happen at the end of May in a lake in Pennsylvania. It will probably be cold, but I don't expect a carribbean trip happening before then. I will have to wait impatiently until then. However it does make a good arguement to arrange a tropical trip for my birthday to test my new underwater skill. I'll have to look into that...

In the meantime, I have an hour and a half to kill at work. Normally I'd chat with Peter, with my razor sharp wit and saucy innuendo, but I don't even feel like doing that. If he's not up to talking about what's going on with him, then why bother? I'm really not saying it in anger, but what else can I do? I'll most likely not listen to myself and give in to what my desires want me to do, but until then I'll be mopy and watch the clock until I suit up for the pool.

Its in the stars

Today's horrorscope, which is very fitting considering the stalemate with Pete.

Quickie:
They would never willfully mislead you. Give them a chance to explain their side.

Overview:
Sticking with the status quo is not an option, especially with your current take-no-prisoners mindset. You'd rather deal with any kind of change than what feels like your current stagnation.

LoveScope...
Daily Flirt:
Others might get rankled by your constant questioning, but don't give up on this curiosity-fueled quest. You have a gift for insight right now, and you'd be crazy not to use it.

Daily Couples:
The balance between intelligence and emotion is difficult to achieve, but at the moment you can apply your insight to your feelings with ease -- and get some excellent results. Let your sweetie in on the process.

Daily Singles:
Romance withers when someone is disloyal. Keep that in mind if a tricky choice comes up later today. No matter how tempting something seems, ask yourself if it's really worth the unpleasant consequences.

Instant Messenger conversation

Me: Trying new B.C [birth control] - since you really want to know
Pete: Other than the patch?
Me: Yup
Pete: Pills?
Pete: Injections?
Me: No. It's called 'my guy is going on vacation with his girlfriend'
Me: Ha!
Me: now THAT'S funny!
Pete: Yeah, that is... good one
Pete: damn you

Pyramid of Pachyderms

Have I mentioned how much I like work? Not my job necessarly, but the people I work with.

We have a lot of little toys around and when it get's especially boring, we tend to play. Mark, who sits across from me arranged his pack of pink pachyderms into this pleasing pyramid.

Not to be outdone, I have my own little trinkets of the strange...

First is my dolphin grabby-thingy

Then is my frog. He normally sits on the cube wall seperating me and Peter, with the frog's ass facing him. Pete was having some 'stomach issues' the other day, so to make him feel better, I put the diaper on the frog.

Finally is my little piggy friend who sits on my monitor smiling at me.

But because his butt also points towards Peter, he gets an extra special view...

Ahh... good times!

Happy 2006!

So it's the year 2006. I ushered it in with no fanfare, no alcohol, nothing of any celebration. I had pampered myself earlier in the afternoon with a cotton blossom scented bubble bath that lasted an hour. After my fingers and toes were sufficiently pruned, I lathered on the lavender lotion and laid in bed with Barry for about another hour. I had to rest up for the big evening I had planned -- sitting on the couch watching tv.

The weather was lousy, my family was doing other things, Pete was in Toronto and I really didn't want to be around people.

I watched "The Interpreter" with Nicole Kidman, ate a chicken wrap, played with Barry. As midnight approached, I switched on Dick Clark's Rockin' New Year's Eve and was saddened at Dick's hoarse and slow speech. He's not the eternal teenager anymore.

At about 20 seconds before the ball drop, I ran upstairs to get my sleeping dog, curled up under the bed covers. He opened up his sleepy eyes and let himself be taken from his warm nest. Like a baby, I held him with his head leaning on my shoulder and together we watched the crystal ball in Times Square drop to ring in the new year. On tv crowds of people cheered and hugged and kissed their neighbors. I hugged Barry. He yawned, licked my nose, and trotted back upstairs to his spot under the covers before it got cold.

I had no resolutions for the new year. I didn't bother taking the time to reflect on the old. I just turned off the tv, blew out the candles, and followed my loyal man to bed - the one who gives me kisses all the time, keeps me warm and makes me feel like the most important person in the world.

Fun with food

Grocery shopping has become more interesting when you have a cameraphone. Even strolling the aisles, Peter still pops into my head and I have to share our dirty little secrets.

John Cusack Soundtrack

Peter is a huge fan of John Cusack, as am I. So while I was still trying to get into his pants, I made this awesome mix CD of songs from John Cusack films. Feel free to plagiarize.

1. Infatuation - Rod Stewart - The Sure Thing
2. In Between Days - The Cure - Gross Pointe Blank
3. Like To Get To Know You Well - Howard Jones - Better Off Dead
4. When Will I Be Loved - Linda Ronstadt - Must Love Dogs
5. Wating In Vain - Annie Lennox - Serendipity
6. This Year - Chantal Kreviazuk - Serendipity
7. Within Your Reach - The Replacements - Say Anything
8. I Want You - Bob Dylan - Identity
9. If You Were Here - Thompson Twins - Sixteen Candles
10. She's A Lady - Tom Jones - Pushing Tin
11. Let's Get It On - Marvin Gaye - High Fidelity
12. Most Of The Time - Bob Dylan - High Fidelity
13. I Want Candy - Bow Wow Wow - Gross Pointe Blank
14. Falling In Love Again - Anika Moa - America's Sweethearts
15. Everybody Wants Some - Van Halen - Better Off Dead
16. Wouldn't It Be Nice - Beach Boys - One Crazy Summer
17. Pressure Drop - The Specials - Gross Pointe Blank
18. I'm Not Running Anymore - John Mellencamp - Pushing Tin
19. Under Pressure - Queen - Gross Pointe Blank
20. In Your Eyes - Peter Gabirel - Say Anything

land, dammit!

There's so much to say and I'll be sad that I didn't record it all down when I had the chance, but the only thing on my mind is that he's on the early flight and I can't wait for him to land. A week and a day. That's how long we've been apart, and I can hardly wait the 3 hours until he comes back to Princeton.

I'm smitten!

Two weeks

It's a mellow night. There's a howling wind blowing just outside my windows, but inside it's warm and cozy - Just right for being introspective, listening to Sarah McLachlan, Fiona Apple, and Jann Arden, and sipping wine.

Peter is on his way over. I like the sound of saying that. It rolls off my tongue so naturally, as if there was never a time where it wasn't true. Two weeks. That's all it's been since I was so brazen to ask him out for drinks after work. Since we talked for hours at the bar. Since I first felt his kisses... among other things.

Two weeks. That's all it's taken for this feeling of familarity, of comfort, of home to take place. A younger version of me would be frightened by how quick this is all taking place, but the 32 year old me is frightened for another reason.

Two weeks. Time that brings me closer to the end of the year where the chances of things changing drastically are more real. When Peter's contract could be up and he heads off to a new assignment, in a new state. Where I won't be able to see his blue eyes watching me. Where I won't be able to hear his laugh when I send him some risque IM message. Where I won't be able to feel his arms around me at night.

Time is my enemy and I will fight Him off as long as I can.

man vs. dog

Barry doesn't understand the concept of weekends. At 5:00 he woke me up with a whimper and a wet nose in my eye. He had to go out, and nothing will deter him from getting my ass out of a comfortable, warm bed -- with the scent of him still lingering in my sheets from the night before.

I trodded downstairs with only one sock on and passed the foyer where less than 36 hours earlier he pulled the ultimate cheese move and gave me his favorite sweatshirt to wear for the weekend so I wouldn't miss him so much while he was back home in Toronto. Sometimes I forget that he's 37 and not a puberty-infected teenager.

Barry pounded at the sliding door waking me from my reverie and I bent down to clip the lead to his collar. My sore hips made me grimace at the pain of overuse. But it was a good pain. One that could best be relieved by continual activity and he has so generously offered to be my personal trainer.

Finally done with his business, Barry came back inside and we went back upstairs to a bed that suddenly seems much bigger and emptier than the night before. Not even a fuzzy, snoring dog curled up in my armpit under the covers could take his place.

x's and o's

So awesome!

I was expecting him after 8, but around 7 I see his car pull up and I just giggled because that was always one of my childhood fantasies... where I would just happen to look up and he would be there coming towards me. So cheezy, I know.

So after all the emails that we were sending back and forth all weekend, when he got inside and I closed the door, told him "I guess this is long overdue," and pulled him in for a kiss. Such a good kisser.

It's funny because he's sitting right next to me, talking to a coworker about his weekend and all I can think about is just how soft his lips are. Mmmmm.....

We chilled out, talked, had some nervous giggles, and did more kissing. And the whole time I couldn't wipe the grin off my face.

Today I'm so tired. He wound up leaving at 9:30, so it's not as if he kept me up all night... yet... but I woke up at 2 am and just tossed and turned ever since.

Apparantly I'm trouble and I'm complicating his life ;) but he's willing to accept that challenge. I'm not sure where this will go, but for now, it fun, it feels right and I don't want it to stop. Those damn kisses...

I'm liking it

Sometimes the old me surfaces. Gutsy, confident, witty, get what I want me - and I like it.

Maybe it's because I feel like I have nothing to lose, or that I don't want to go through life with any regrets.

Or maybe it's because he can volley back the flirtations, innuendos and wittiness with such ease.

Whatever reason, this is fun.

head over heels

I haven't written much about work yet. The job is ok, the people I work with are fantastic. They're the kind of people who will celebrate your accomplishments, and laugh in your face when you look like an idiot. In essence, they're an extension of my family.

This morning I took the starring role of Lead Moron. It was still early and not many people had arrived yet. Josee and Mark were both sitting at their desk, a 3 foot cube divider seperating me from them. Andrea was sitting behind me, back to me. I was clowning around and pretended to recline in my office chair.

I must have pretended too hard because I tipped the balance and sent the chair, with me in it, flying backwards. There I was, in the chair, flat on my back, feet sticking straight up in the air. For a brief moment my face froze in shock, then I exploded into laughter. I just thank God that I decided to wear pants today. I would have died in complete embarassment if I had landed with a skirt pooled around my head and my ass shielded only by the thin strip of fabric from my thong.

There are times when you do something stupid and try to hide it, hoping that no one saw your blunder. There was no hiding my display, so I had to call the fullest attention to it. My laughter filled the area until I realized that Andrea was on the phone. From above I saw Mark trying to frame the perfect shot with his camera phone. "That's what we call in England 'freekin funny'!"

I was fine, the only thing brused was my pride. But there wasn't much to lose anyway.

Rubberhead

The sky had finally cleared up and bits of blue reclaimed it rightful place from the gray clouds. Barry was happily trotting next to me, sniffing rotting leaves and peeking under bushes for his nemesis, the rabbit. I had my iPod on, listening to the summery songs of Jimmy Buffett and walking in time to the tropical beat. The wind was beginning to pick up, the chill made my arm hair stand on end. Autumn was roaring in.

This summer had been particularly difficult for me. I was unemployed for the majority of it and the lack of funds and the feeling of uselessness made getting out of bed seem at times an act of futility. Barry, with his incessant sniffing at my closed eyes and licking the insides of my nose, was my alarm clock. His bladder made all of my lazy mornings irrelevant. But I credit my pursuant pooch with maintaining my sanity. By attending to his needs and succumbing to his unending wishes to play, he has kept me from the dark shadows of depression and self-imposed exile.

I noticed the little white fuzz-ball walking towards us before Barry did. A sweaty, balding man was crouched over, busy picking up his puppy's poop along the walking path. The tiny cockapoo was standing perfectly still, its black eyes standing out like small bits of coal. She was focused on Barry; him still oblivious, staring up the trunks of sapling trees, trying to figure out how to reach the birds hiding perched in the branches.



The cockapoo's high pitched yelp got Barry's attention and he was off running, stretching his retractable leach to the full fifteen feet and almost yanking my arm out of the socket in the process. Back and forth he ran, arcing left and right of the pup who was being dragged in the opposite direction from her owner.

Like David preparing to slay Goliath, I was turning in forward circles swinging Barry around like a slingshot at the end of his leash. His ears and tongue were flapping and his eyes never left the other dog retreating away. He never saw it coming.

Barry was making his third counter-clockwise rotation around me, when he met up with one of the sapling trees. The side of his head bounced off the narrow trunk like a rubber Superball. He stopped for just a moment to shake off his embarrassment and continued on his orbit.

I burst out laughing. I reeled him in to rub his furry head but he seemed completely unaffected by his trauma. For him, there was so much out in the world to discover than to be bothered by such a minor setback. Just shake it off and keep on running.

Funny, the things you can learn from a dog.

Good thing the donuts were fine

Fifteen minutes. That's how long it takes for the police to arrive to the scene of a car accident. I know because I timed it after I called it in.

I was on a grassy patch of land out front of my townhouse walking Barry. I was watching him circle around the grass three times, his tail pointing down, ready to take a dump when I heard the crash.

I looked up to see an Acura Integra stopped across the middle of the busy road in front of the entrance to my complex, not more than 100 feet away from me. It was blocking traffic from both sides. A Nissan Sentra was stopped, crumpled in the turning lane facing north. From the Acura I heard a frustrated "Aaaargh!" from the twenty-something year old punk in the driver seat. Doors slowly opened from both cars, passengers getting out to check out the damage. Traffic was building up on both sides of the road, impatient drivers maneuvering past the frozen cars.

I ran back to my house to call 911. I calmly gave the operator the town, street, cross streets and the landmark of the Dunkin Donuts directly in front of the accident. I went back outside to wait.

By now, the cars were both moved off the road and into the parking lots of the Dunkin Donuts and the adjoining gas station. Traffic was moving normally and a small crowd was gathered by each of the cars. People were on cell phones and a kid with a dog, I believe a passenger of the Nissan, were walking around the parking lot. The nosy neighbor that I am, I watched with Barry across the street and I waited.

Five minutes. Ten minutes. Where the hell were the cops? The town isn't very big and the accident was in front of a Dunkin Donuts for fuck's sake! I would imagine that the place would be swarming with flashing red and blue lights.

Fifteen minutes after I called it in, the police finally arrived. Satisfied with my civic duty fulfilled, I went back home to watch Law & Order reruns on tv.

Retail therapy

I spent Friday morning strolling through the mall, fingering the displays of crisp cotton button-down Oxford shirts and polyester blazers. I coveted the perfectly matched necklaces, dripping with amber and chocolate beads. With the promise of a real paycheck coming in weeks, I decided to celebrate my re-entry into the work world with a new outfit.

In my head, I imagined me juggling 15 different projects, holding a phone in one hand while signing an invoice with the other. Across my desk would be binders filled with project requirements, content decks and tacked to every square inch of my cubicle walls are gant charts detailing precisely when the creative would be approved and when the development would begin. And I would so look the part of pure professionalism: trendy tortoise shell glasses balanced on the tip of my nose, my freshly cut, newly dyed coffee-colored hair perfectly in place and my yoga toned body draped in a smart cream colored sweater set with charcoal herringbone wool pants.

With an exasperated sigh from a young mother struggling with her temperamental toddler, "Nooooo! I want chicken nuggets! Nooooooo!", I was heralded back into reality.

I grabbed the turquoise wrap sweater, the brown and cream paisley skirt and the three pairs of dress pants and took them into the unattended dressing room. In the reflection of the full length mirrors I was reminded that my hair sprung into unmanageable frizz with the impending threat of showers this afternoon, and my tank top kept riding up my body to reveal my belly roll exploding out over my jean skirt. Must. do. situps.

The sweater and skirt ensemble were fantastic, the blue accenting my tanned skin and showing enough cleavage to suggest an hourglass shape, yet still appropriate for the office. The skirt flared out enough to highlight my shapely hips but disguised my 'not ready for prime time' thighs. The military had camouflage fatigues, I had a-line skirts.

I took off the skirt, placed it on the 'Buy' clothes hook, and selected the smaller sized pants. The thinking that if I fit into these smaller sized pants, then the Weight Loss Fairy visited me as my reward for consuming Slim-Fast shake after another for the past 3 weeks. I put one leg in, and steadied myself against the white laminate walls while I stuffed in the other leg. The seams stretched across my thighs and with a big inhale I was able to zip up. Holding my breath I turned in the mirror to examine the calamity. Before I passed out from lack of oxygen, I pealed out of the pants and returned them to the 'No Fucking Way' clothes hook.

In defeat I tried the other pants; the one size larger pants. The zipper zipped comfortably and there was no pull of polyester across my crotch. The length was just the right height for a new pair of black heels and there was hardly any extra room in the waist. I craned my neck over my left shoulder to see the rear view in the mirror and I was satisfied. Yeah, these were my post-college size pants and yeah, I was much more comfortable in skirts nowadays, but these would also be my post-unemployment pants and that had a much more optimistic ring to it.

I happily added it to the 'Buy' rack, whipped out my credit card and strode confidently to the check out counter.

What next? Swarm of Locusts?

Maybe the Bible isn't all full of religius rhetoric. Turn on the news, read the papers and the signs of the apocolipse are almost as blatent as the South of the Border billboards on Interstate 95. American cities are underwater, contrete structures representing wealth and strentgh toppled like dominoes, people are closely tracked through credit card purchases and web clicks, and in Washington, the most powerful man in the free world lists idly by while his bretheren suffer and kill each other in the streets trying to survive, his forked tongue delivering lies to the evening news.

As if this isn't enough, bring on the plague. Mice infected with the bubonic plague are missing from a lab in Newark. The health comissioner says that they probably got eaten by other animals, or if they got out, are already dead, so the health risk is small. Yet the FBI and the CDC are both investigating. This brings me no comfort.

And for those newly graduated twenty-somethings who find themselves competing for entry level positions with thrity-somethings, they can always work for the Catholic Church as student exorcists. Apparany the need is become greater.

The Four Horsemen have mounted their steeds. The white and red horses march along the Potomic River and the black horse wades through the gulf coast. The pale horse laps gently at the waters of the Hudson, waiting patiently for his command to gallop west.

The universe answers

Oh ye of little faith, let me tell you of the wonders of the universe. Simply ask of it and it will provide.

I was walking down the street, just having come from the free jazz night at the State Theater in New Brunswick, still be-bopping in my head and savoring the taste of Corona still on my tongue. The air was still heavy with leftover rain and my hair was no longer following the rules of gravity. I was just at my car when I felt my phone vibrate. A surge of electricity went through my body because I knew that I didn't want to miss this call. I pulled open the string that held the top of my beach bag/purse closed and shuffled around keys, wallet, journal and finally came up with the phone.

I opened the clamshell. "Hello?" I put my finger in my other ear to block out the sound of the passing truck.

"Hi, Claudine? This is Joanie, I have great news! I just spoke with Chris and he was really excited to meet you. As you know, he'll be taking on more responsibility and he thinks you would make a perfect addition to the team. He want's to offer you the job!"

"That's fantastic!" A man swerved passed me to avoid me as I raised my fist into the air, in a half victory sign. I unlocked my car and sat inside so as not to potentially pummel other pedestrians.

I was simply gushing as Joanie was telling me the particulars, when I could expect to start, asking me some information to start the hiring process. Through her questions I kept thinking I can fix my air conditioner, put in custom closet organizers, finish the work on my floors, GO CLOTHES SHOPPING! Finally I can replenish my anorexic savings account. I wouldn't have to feel like the bum of the neighborhood, my car sitting idily by in the parking lot while the rest of my neighbors got up, went to work and contributed to society. I would be starting in 2 weeks. Plenty of time to shop, visit friends and feel euphoric knowing that my financial anxieties can be put to rest.

My backpacking trip around the world would be put on hold, or at least modified in time to traverse the continents one at a time. I would now have the choice to stay in a hostel rather than be forced to stay in one. I could indulge in my pwn private hotel room - with it's own bathroom. Oh, the possibilities are endless.

I know at the days go by and I'm closer to starting the new job, I will get those 'first day of school' jitters. Will they like me? Was that interview just a big put on? Will I get there and be told it was all a big episode of Punk'd? Aston Kutcher would come out in his sideways cocked trucker had and point in my face, "Dude, you are soooo punked! Ha! You should see the look on your face. Wave to the camera, it's over there. Demi, come on out, you have to see this!"

But as this is my daydream, I will punch Ashton in his jaw and leave his with his stupid Kelso expression, saunter past Demi, palm rased to her face in the 'talk to the hand' guesture and slide into my waiting convertible silver Mustang, give everyone the finger and peel out of the parking lot in a defiant squeal of burnt rubber.

breathe easier

The world can breathe easier today. After watching the ongoing updates on tv and the speculations from various media, there is finally some sense of completeness.

Britney Spears had a baby boy.

Universe, it's your turn

When it rains, it pours. And it's a friggin' moonsoon outside, baby!

I'm not talking all about the weather, either. I had a job interview today and I think I wowed them. But what was even cooler is that during my interview, my phone vibrated twice, the voicemail from two different recruiters telling me of opportunities that I would be a fit for.

My confidence has returned with this new wave of attention. After weeks of stagnancy, drowning me in the blahs, a current of capability has arrived.

This position is part project manger, part event planner for a training/education department for a big pharmaceutical company. I love it because I know I have the PM skills, and I sold them on my event planning experience - not professionally, but from my year as sorority president. Jason, the PM who is leaving and is interviewing for his replacement, said that the majority of the events that he has to plan closely resembles the sorority/frat functions. Score two for me!

It's also fantastic because part of the responsiblity in ensuring that the events are being put together as planned is to be on site. Chris, he director is off to England in a few weeks to oversee a training event. So travel is part of the job.

Now Chris and Jason have been very clear that this is a high profile position, often juggling may different projects at once, with priorities changing at a moments notice. It's very hands-on, and the use of Dreamweaver, Flash, Project is all required, all of which I know.

I feel very comfortable with the team members, we get along and I can see us working together as a team, which they emphasize the whole TEAM mentality. AND, it's only 15 minutes from my house.

I am so excited about this job. It's a great blend of stuff I know with new stuff that I'll have to learn. It combines organization, relationship building, getting my hands dirty and travel!! It's perfect.

I called my recruiter to let her know how interested I am in this position and how well the interview went. This feels like a great fit. The whole, short ride home I kept thinking how much I wanted this job. Now I leave it up to the Universe to let it happen.

A writing Exercise

They had nothing to say to each other. Each opened their lunches and spread out their meal in front of them. In the chatter of the school cafeteria the three ten year olds sat in exile.

Louis carefully unwrapped his cheese and bologna sandwich. He forgot to add the mayonnaise again and he grimaced as he swallowed it down. He was in a rush to get out of the house this morning. He didn’t want to be there when his mother finally awoke from being passed out on the couch all night. Louis knew that if she found him there, she would make him make her coffee, bring the Tylenol and rub her head until the headache went away, usually not until after noon.

Stan popped open his soda can; suds foamed over on to the table, his science book and on to his Spongebob Squarepants t-shirt, too small for his bulging belly. In one long slurp, he sucked up the spilt soda and wiped his mouth with his arm. Stan pushed his entire peanut butter and jelly sandwich into his mouth and chewed it like a cow chews its cud, crumbs falling, jelly stuck to the side of his face.

Emily hung her head down towards her French fries but her eyes were on the popular girls’ table. She envied the way their long blond hair bounced when they laughed and how their glitter nail polish flashed in the fluorescent light. Emily looked at her own bitten fingernails and quickly hid them in her lap, silently willing the bell to ring.

Radar Ears

I wish I knew what Barry thinks about when I take him for walks. I can't see his eyes to see what he's focused on, but I can tell when he's on to something. I call it his Rabbit Radar and it's all in reading the action of his ears.

In relazed mode, his ears point to the sides, flap flap flapping along. Both ears droop over and when he runs in a playful gallop I wonder if those ears will give him enough lift to actually get him airborne.

Barry turns the radar on his ears face forward. He is in tracking mode and is intent on searching for something to chew on - a used piece of bubble gum or an inattentive bird. Anything will do. With something in sight every muscle tenses and from my vantige point I can even see the pusling of his butthole below his stubby white tail. His pace quickens and his ears are in full frontal flap. He has spotted a pile of leaves that resemble the ears of a hiding rabbit.

Oooh the elusive fucking rabbit, Barry's sworn enemy. When we pass a patch of bushes or the edge of a wooded area Barry is on full alert because he knows that's where they love to hide. Sometimes the rabbits are smart and stay pervectly still. Barry never notices them. But in one sudden rabbit movement Barry's ears turn and face all the way back for chase mode and he takes off running trying in vain to nab that puffy white tail.

To watch the chases is like watching a ballet with a prima ballerina and a hippopotamus. The rabbit has delicate movements and can switch directions with prescission. Barry thunders behind with inertia on his side and has to take wide and lumbering turns to keep the rabbit in sight.

The floppy tips of his ears flutter behind his head like Superman's cape. He is in The Zone and no amounts of me chasing after him yelling "cookie! cookie!" is going to get his attention.

Soon Barry tires out, the rabbit disappears into the bushes and Barry trots back to me, ears flapping, tongue hanging and his eyes bright and excited as if asking "Didya see that, Mom? I almost caught him! Didya see it? Didya?"

I laugh and scratch behind his radar ears and toss him a cookie, a well deserved consolation prize.