Happy Beatles Day!

(Originally written on September 9, 2009)

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Today is nine-nine-nine, the day that the remastered collection of all of The Beatles’ albums and The Beatles:  Rock Band are being released for purchase.  Most people probably just assume that today, of all days, was selected for these releases simply because it’s cool that all three digits of today’s date are one in the same.  However, in all actuality, today was most likely chosen because the number nine had a very distinct significance to John Lennon.  He believed in numerology, as have many other rock stars (Jimi Hendrix and the number seven, for example), and was obsessed with the number nine – it literally controlled his life (think Jim Carrey in The Number 23).  I’m not going to go into detail about that; I just wanted to point it out.  If you’re interested in learning more, I would highly recommend reading Take a Walk on the Dark Side:  Rock and Roll Myths, Legends, and Curses by R. Gary Patterson – it is one of my absolute favorites, very intriguing and entertaining.

So – Happy Beatles Day!

Well, while everyone else was having fun today enjoying The Beatles’ remastered classics and Rock Band, I was sitting through forecast training in Connecticut.  It was a

three-and-a-half hour drive away one way, I had to be there and at the ready at 9am, and I didn’t get to leave until 3:30pm.  Yea, I got caught in rush hour both ways.  Let’s just say that today was definitely a very long day for me.  And the training was incredibly painful – as in having-your-toenails-pulled-out-with-pliers painful.  I mean, even after telling the guy doing the presenting that I have a Bachelor’s in Statistics, he still went through all of the basics (I was the only trainee).  It’s comparable to having someone today sit you down and insist on teaching you how to multiply, step by step, regardless of the fact that you told them that you already know how…for six-and-a-half hours.

Oh well, at least it’s over.

Pee on the Seat

(Originally written on September 3, 2009)

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So, as a woman, peeing in a public bathroom facility is much more “invasive” than it is for a guy.  You know, with the whole we-can’t-pee-standing-up-without-straddling-the-toilet thing.  Therefore, to help cushion their concerns and fears of contracting a disease (which I find to be ridiculous, really) and/or coming into contact with bacteria via the toilet seat, most women do what I like to call “hovering”.  And as a child in the first grade, I believe, I clearly remember when one of my friends told me even to go so far as to flush using the bottom of my foot so that I wouldn’t get bacteria from the flusher on my hands.

Well, I, too, used to hover…but then I lived in a dorm with hall-wide sink/showering/toilet facilities during my freshman year of college and got over it.  Now I’m satisfied with merely wiping down the seat with toilet paper before sitting down.

And this is where this post title comes into play:  every time I use the bathroom in the B&B office, there is always pee on the seat.  Always.  And I’m not talking about just a drop here and there – it’s normally close to a 360-degree coverage of the seat!  And toilet seat covers are provided in each stall.

I know for a fact that I am the youngest person in the office and I find this really disturbing.  And disgusting.  I cannot believe that women ranging from their mid-to-late twenties all the way into their fifties – full-grown, adult women – think that it’s okay to just pee all over the place.  And you wonder why people initially started to fear bacteria and/or disease from toilet seats…

Okay, so if you do still chose the hover method, at least clean up after yourself – it takes all of two seconds and you aren’t being rude and inconsiderate by leaving your pee for the next person to clean.  I’m not asking much.

Come on, ladies!

Go Phils!

(Originally written on September 2, 2009)

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I went to my very first Phillies game last night and had an absolute blast!  Yesterday at work, Wolverine (the guy who’s responsible for training me – and that’s Wolverine as in University of Michigan, not X-Men, very important distinction there…) told me that our boss had given him tickets and then randomly asked me if I wanted to go to the game with him.  I guess it wasn’t too random:  whoever was originally going with him cancelled last minute, then he asked another one of our coworkers who wasn’t able to go, so then he asked me.  And I thought, “Hey, why not?”  I mean, a major-league baseball game sounds much more entertaining than yet another night alone at the B-Dub.

Our tickets were “Diamond Club”, so we had a credit of $30 apiece on our tickets.  BUT we didn’t find that out until after we had already bought beer and brauts.  So…I decided that I was going to buy a jersey with it.  I settled on number 26:  Chase Utley.  He is H-O-T hot and, even better, his at-bat music is Kashmir by Led Zeppelin!  And I also later found out that he (recently?) signed a seven-year contract, so he’ll be with the Phils for a good while.

Anyways, our seats were in the sixth row, right behind home plate.  It was AWESOME!  And it actually turns out that we were all over ESPN Sportscenter last night because the Phillies’ pitcher threw a two-hitter.

Struggling

(Originally written on August 31, 2009)

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Since making the move, I’ve pretty much just been in my hotel room content alone every day (besides work).  I mean, I’ve been all alone for a week now and have been perfectly okay with it.  And I’m just watching TV to pass the time, watching, like, even on reality shows how those people even have normal interactions with other people.  And, I mean, I’m just not sure that I can ever experience those interactions of a healthy relationship again.  In fact, these tears that I’m crying right now aren’t even for missing anyone in particular – they’re all about the pain from the events that initiated almost a year ago and ended this past May.  The whole thing with Gaston happening right after being raped – that that ended so ugly.  It’s just an even deeper scar than the one left by the rape itself.  And I’m just really not sure at this point if I can come back from that.  I really don’t know.  Because just as much as I enjoy the sexual aspects of romantic relationships, I’m now starting to worry that either

1. that’s all my (potential) future relationship(s) will turn out to be, or
2. that I won’t be able to allow myself take part in any of that at all.

It’s just a really hard realization to come to.  And I’m not sure what lies ahead for me.  I don’t want to be this broken individual for the rest of my life – I don’t.  But I have to do something about it now and I can’t.  I’m in a new place; I’m supposed to be starting fresh and I don’t want to be reliving all of these nightmares that I have already been through time and time again.  I don’t want to bring that up here with me, but I’m afraid that I already have.  And I don’t know what to do about it.

This is my first “breakdown”/”episode” since moving.  I think it’s all because I spoke with my detective today and learned that everything with my case is just not okay.  The police who came to the scene misquoted me in their report, my rapist has said all of the “right things” he could say to clear himself (he admitted to having sex with me, but said it was consensual, which sets it up to be his word versus mine – which, for whatever reason, the government tends to side with his apparently),…  It just isn’t fair.  It just isn’t fair.

When will I stop suffering? I don’t know if I can even hold onto the hope of ever being fixed anymore.  Am I a lost cause?  Is the potential of my future love life all a lost cause? I can’t help but think that all I’m going to amount to at the end of my life is someone with a successful career and a lot of money yet no one to share it with.

Out of Character

(Originally Written on August 30, 2009)

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This is my sixty-ninth post!  Woo-hoo!

Alright, now that I’ve gotten that bout of immaturity out of my system…

I realized tonight that this is the first time that I have been away from home for any length of time and not looked back on a single photo – not even of Peebs and Lil.  THAT is really weird.  As (I think) I’ve alluded to before, I am obsessed with reminiscing and taking tons of pictures.  I think I have strayed away from looking back at pictures this time because I’m afraid that it’s just gonna make me miss them more.  But now I’m worried that I’m not missing them.  I don’t know what’s worse…

Anxiously Waiting

(Originally written on August 28, 2009)

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Went on my rental tour today.  God, it was exhausting.

I think I found a place that I like – now that I think about it, it was pretty much the only place that I liked among all the different ones that I was taken to – but they told me that it will be TWO MONTHS before an apartment becomes available (in any of my desired floorplans, that is)!

God, that means I could be stuck in the B-Dub for two months…it hasn’t even been a week and already I’m anxious to get out…

•     •     •     •     •

The detective on my rape case called me this morning, but I didn’t get his message until this afternoon (because I was on my rental tour).  In the message, he said that all of the reports have come back from the GBI (Georgia Bureau of Investigation) and that he wanted to fill me in.  I called him back at around 4:30pm and when he didn’t answer, I left him a message.  I hope he calls me back this afternoon.  Otherwise, it’d be weird receiving that call while I’m at work on Monday…

First Day on the Job

(Originally written on August 24, 2009)

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As the post title implies, today was my first day on the job at B&B!  Although, the guy who’s supposed to be training me is out of the office closing on a house and they didn’t really know what to do with me in lieu of that fact.  But I think I’m really gonna like it here.

•     •     •     •     •

I sat in on a flu meeting today that covered both the seasonal flu and the swine flu and how they’re trending (B&B is in the over-the-counter drug industry).  HOLY SHIT – it’s really scary.

•     •     •     •     •

I awoke yesterday morning only to find a late-night text from Mario:

I miss you already. : (

Ugh!  Why does he have to do that?

•     •     •     •     •

I’m definitely going to stop drinking after tonight (I’m finishing off the two mix-six packs that I bought yesterday:  mostly local microbrews that I’ve never heard of before – I had to give ‘em a try!).  When I got dressed this morning, I couldn’t fit into a pair of dress pants that I’ve never had a problem fitting into, which knocks out half of my “temporary” clothes to tide me over until I find an apartment because all of my other pants are from the same store in the same size, just in different colors.  Beast told me that it’s probably from all the beer I’ve been drinking.  Well, my wardrobe is reason enough to take some time off the sauce!  Besides, of my two favorite coworkers (so far, that is), one of them is pregnant and the other one has a six-month-old baby, so neither of them drink…

•     •     •     •     •

So, as I referred to above, until I find an apartment, I am residing in the Best Western – which from-here-on-out will be referred to as the B-Dub.  Oh my god, when I worked out in the hotel exercise room this afternoon (this was my first time; I just checked in yesterday), they had absolutely no air-conditioning on!  I had to turn it on myself when I came in, which really didn’t do anything on my behalf because even at full blast it would probably take longer to cool the room than the 30 minutes that I spent on the treadmill.  AND there was no door on the hinges of the entry to the exercise room (which was so conveniently located directly in front of the air-conditioning unit across the room)…and everyone in the hall seemed to make an effort to stare at me as they walked by.  It made me really uncomfortable, especially since I was sweating more intensely than usual due to the lack of AC.

My Departure

(Originally written on August 22, 2009)

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Today I began my journey to Philly.  And I got off to a late start – I wanted to leave by 10am, but things kept piling up onto each other and it just didn’t happen.

One of the things that held me up was Chip’s and Dale’s birthday lunch (they turned 19 today).  By the time I got to Beast’s and Martyr’s house to drop off Peabody and Lilly, it was around 11:30am; hence, I decided that I may as well stay for lunch.  Martyr is currently studying to become a masseuse and was getting out of class at 12:30pm-ish, so I shared a couple of beers with Beast, Chip, and Dale in the meantime (early, I know, but I wasn’t just going to leave perfectly good beer sitting in my empty apartment after moving out – and sharing it with Beast, Chip, and Dale is much better than just leaving it with them and not being able to partake in the drinking of it myself!).

Also at the house was my grampa (Martyr’s dad).  He and my brothers have always had a special bond.  And by that I mean that it is public knowledge to the entire family that Chip and Dale are his favorite grandkids.  Martyr thinks that he has gone out of his way to make such a dramatic effort with them in order to somehow make up for and/or forgive himself for being such a poor father.  (Grampa was a drill sergeant in the Army and was outrageously strict whenever he was actually home – he did two additional, voluntary tours in Vietnam and one additional, voluntary tour in Korea on top of his mandatory tours.  Of course there’s more to it than that, but that’s the base of it, I believe.)  So, anyways, it was no surprise that Grampa made the three-hour drive for their birthday.

Well, let’s just say that Grampa and I have had our disagreements throughout the years.  I have a pretty strong personality and he is very structured in his ways – it’s his way or the highway.  He also drove semis for a living after retiring from the Army (he gets restless if he doesn’t have something to do), so he’s really familiar with the national highway system and such.  So, for example, while we were waiting on Martyr this morning/early afternoon, Grampa took the opportunity (as he does) to tell me how to drive – and there’s no interrupting him once he’s started!  So even though I sat there and repeatedly and continually said, “I know, Grampa, that’s exactly the route that I’ve already decided I’m taking,” I still had to listen to his whole 20-minute spiel.  And then he went on and on about how there are a lot of toll roads up in the northeast (which my Google Maps directions already told me about and for which I brought my change collection).  He just likes to take charge of everything…and it’s kind of a pain-in-the-ass.

So, anyways, back to the birthday lunch – as we were sitting there and I was getting ready to depart on my journey, Grampa turns to Martyr and asks her if it would be alright for him to come with her whenever she brings up Peebs and Lil.  And she said YES!  Why the hell would Martyr tell him that it’s okay for him to come up and help me move in?!  Shouldn’t that be MY decision? Ugh! I can just see him telling me exactly how to arrange everything in my apartment…

•     •     •     •     •

The drive today was a nightmare:  I drove past/through three accidents that brought traffic to a standstill.  For the last one, I only moved five miles in one hour.  Come on, people!  After passing the first accident you should have taken it as a sign that you should drive more carefully – let alone after passing the second one!

•     •     •     •     •

The ceiling of this Holiday Inn Express is glittered…  I even called down to the front desk to check if it’s supposed to be that way.  It is.  That kinda creeps me out…

There Goes the Neighborhood

(Originally written on August 17, 2009)

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I just realized that Tomboy has moved into my soon-to-be-former apartment complex.

Great.  Just the bitch that I want to see when I visit home.

Even though I know I don’t want to be with Gaston, I’m still not over him.  And Tomboy’s presence here is just going to make it more likely that I’ll see him here staying with her for every football weekend that I make it to.  Especially because I always suspected that they were more than just friends.  I mean, she transferred here to resume classes this fall semester after one year at a top law school just to be closer to Gaston.  Regardless of how hard I tried (which I did, because she was Gaston’s best friend), I never did like her from the first time I met her.

It’s just a painful reminder.

Of all the nicer, newer apartment complexes to live in in this town, WHY HERE?