Today...

...would have been my dad's 65th birthday. The world is a far worse place because he isn't in it.

Are You Kidding Me?

I've spent the past couple of weeks working in a center with a laundry list of issues trying to help get them squared away. They have had all of the staff turn over. They work with a very difficult population of students, 98% have multiple issue IEPs. Just bad all the way around. They are getting better...they are working on getting the right people in the right places and if everyone can locate and get their shit together things will be fine.

There is a kid there that has been diagnosed with one of the Autism Spectrum Disorders...and it isn't on said kid's IEP. How do you not address this. You will put down that said kid doesn't interact well with peers and get all hot and bothered that the kid isn't making progress on that front. Here's a news flash you freakin' idiot...the kid isn't wired for social interaction. I was so angry talking to the "professional" who needs to evaluate progress...that I walked away for fear of calling said person names or placing said person's head through an inanimate object. Unfucking believable!

There are rules...

...about wearing dirty librarian glasses. You may not wear them, would be Republican VP, and try to ban books from public libraries!!! You are hereby required to wear old lady glasses, surrender your Karen from "Will and Grace" hair piece, keep your mitts away from my uterus, and go back to the hellmouth from which you came.

Julies United Weekend

This is me and my friend, Julie...not me and, a very nice lady in a sassy hat that we were sitting by at the Toledo Mud Hens v Richmond Braves game on Saturday night. Because we are awesome we found ourselves in the middle of a little adventure...the story is below.

For reasons unknown by me the Braves managed to win despite my attendance; although J2 believes that the unseemly 6-1 loss by the Mud Hens was her doing as she too was in attendance. After enjoying a complementary display of fireworks, which we were told was going to happen regardless of our attendance…but we beg to differ, we went to locate J2’s gray car at the lot where we had left it. And this dear reader is where our adventure began…

It should be duly noted that Fifth/Third Field, or 1 and 2/3 Field was approximately 5.9 miles from our palatial digs at the Toledo Hilton, thank you work. We made the opposing turn onto Washington Rd as to place us in the correct position to make it back to said palatial digs. We knew something was amiss as we passed the art museum and the glass house in lieu of the zoo. This however did not dissuade us; we were strong in our conviction that we knew how to find our way home. Man alive were we wrong!!!

Upon passing the posh University area, posh being a relative term to where the night led, we found ourselves in the bowels of Toledo. While listening to our inner compasses, in hindsight a terrible idea, we were treated to some very colorful night life. As we found ourselves traveling down Monroe we spied the ultimate multi-tasker, a convenience shop were one could accrue beer and lottery tickets; as well as cash a check, pay your utilities, and redeem your WIC. We also had our doors blown off by a Caddy with an eye catching two-tone purple and green optic finishes and proceeded to pass a house where we could buy designer clothes and hair weaves. We should also state at this time that we scorned I-75 on at least 3 separate occasions.

Once again listening to our faulty inner compasses, we turned down Detroit thinking we had passed it on our way to the baseball game…which had now ended a half an hour ago. While travelling down Detroit we came upon an oasis in the darkness, The Platinum Gentlemen’s Club…which was housed in a plaza where you could get dentures made, tattoos and piercings, and automobile insurance (for either Michigan or Ohio). Dazzled by the lights of The Platinum we were unable to stay on Detroit and made our way to Telegraph Road. Yes dear reader it would be the same Telegraph Road (US-24) that runs through Detroit.

After the comedic break down at the Michigan border and texting of a Central Time Zone compatriot (still waiting on that text back), an hour after the baseball game ended, we stumbled upon the nirvana that was Alcatraz Gentlemen’s Club. Alcatraz was resplendent in its chic exterior and trucker friendly parking lot. As we went further down US-24 convinced that I-75 would miraculously appear…it failed to.

At this point we would be remiss to not acknowledge the contribution of Nicole at Meijer; where we stopped for h2o, a lottery ticket, and a map. Nicole’s directive was stay on US-24 and indeed I-75 will appear after a mystery Wal-Mart. We’re still looking for that Wal-Mart and I-275 was found. Luckily, we are no Cinderellas as we would have been in grave trouble as the clock had passed midnight.

Thirty miles later and the revelation that we were ravenous; we made our way back into Ohio…passing every damn street we had previously driven on, much to our eternal chagrin and dismay. We finally made our way back to the turnpike to go one exit as to be back to where our day had started 10 hours ago. Mercifully, we had a hard copy of the directions to the hotel in the car. Thank you J2 for leaving that vital information in the car. A brief detour to the Kroger down the street from the hotel brought us a reward of M&Ms and a lottery ticket for our haggard souls. We pulled into the parking lot of our hotel at least 70 miles and two and a half hours later. Upon entering the hotel we stumbled upon the hotel shop where the actual Peanut Butter M&Ms we wanted but couldn’t find in a grocery store were found.

Dear Delta:

Please stop fucking up my luggage!!!

Every time that I fly you, there is some sort of issue. The last time you thought it was appropriate to send my bag home, in the middle of a blizzard, when I had told you numerous times that I wasn't going there.

This time you thought it would be awesome to annihilate the front pocket of said bag. When I went to bring said destruction to your attention; you acted like you were doing me some sort of favor by offering to have it repaired. You fucked it up...you fix it...you are not doing me a favor...a favor would have been not fucking it up in the first place.

Cheers,
Jules

Too Much...

...of everything. I am getting ready to embark on a 3 week business trip tomorrow. I leave my hovel tomorrow and don't return to said hovel until the 15th. That sucks.

Work is crazy right now. It is just this side of that special kind of overwhelming that can lead one to be paralyzed with anxiety. My immediate co-workers are super helpful and supportive. Outside of our inner circle, it get extremely dicey. It's so bad with some people that I am convinced that they are working against me...and I'm not being paranoid about that.

Since work is consuming all aspects of my life, thanks work; I'm not working out like I am accustomed too. I really need to find the time...no matter how long a day it has been, to make sure that I get some kind of exercise in. I would help the stress situation and the "me kicking my ass for not working out" situation. Eating has been OK...must not consume french fries this week...that's really the only thing I have gone off the rails on.

I have to go pack my suitcase. I've been putting it off all night...

Not My President Strikes Again

I too would like to be able to invoke executive privilege. I wouldn't need to use it for outing a CIA agent. I would use it when accounting questions my expense reports and when people ask me what I think when they meant for the question to be rhetorical.

Shattered

I feel just like my rental car windshield. I'm doing my job as best I can, but when you keep throwing things at me they will eventually start breaking me down. You throw enough things and the cracks can't support things anymore and things will give way; leaving me covered in tiny little shards some that I can see and some that I can't. As far as yesterday's fiasco with the road debris...I'm fine. Work...day to day.

What the Hell

Apparently am training for the Olympics...Is brain fucking an exhibition sport in Beijing? It kept me up last night when I needed to be the girl up at 6 this morning to get myself to the airport. Work is killing me right now; that in combination with the normal swirl of insecurities and crazy makes my brain a DMZ. It is scary up in my head. I think I need an escort to wonder about in my own thoughts. This can't be good for a girl.

Why I Loathe Shopping

I attempted to go shopping yesterday. I was an exercise in frustration and futility. Apparently in my universe I can loose nearly 40 lbs and not change sizes according to every freaking store that I walked into. That combined with the fact that no talls were tall enough was just enough to send me over the edge. I found one article of clothing that is made that I can actually wear...a pencil skirt, a piece of clothing that seems to allow for the fact that I am, minus my huge rack, one of the least curvy women you will ever meet. Too bad the matching jacket was made for someone with no shoulders and a bird chest. One of these days I will find clothes that fit me and then I will have to find something else to bitch about.

I do not...

...go to the gym to impress anyone other than myself. I go strictly for me. I go to the gym to build muscle, burn fat and sweat. I do not go to the gym to be sociable, although I have some gym friends that I exchange pleasantries with. I go to the gym to work off the massive amounts of stress that I am under from my job. Gym time is the hour or so a day that is all mine.

I do not get "pretty" to go to the gym; if anything I do the opposite. I wash my make-up off. I pull my hair back into as austere a ponytail as I can. I wear clothes that are utilitarian. I take off the nasty librarian glasses.

So listen here asshat...Just because I have my iPod on doesn't mean I can't hear you. If you want to see jiggling tits and girls in skimpy outfits...take your lame ass 20 minute work out to a titty bar. I'll spend my two hours working on something you'll never be able to get near!!!

Happy Fatherless Day!!!

Tomorrow is my least favorite holiday of the year. I used to enjoy it. There were cook-outs and presents; a good time was had by all. Then again it's hard to celebrate Father's Day when you are sans the celebrated.

I have spent the past month being bombarded by messages in my in-box reminding me to not forget Father's Day. Little innocuous reminders of someone I have lost...like I would ever forget Father's Day. I haven't forgotten my dad for one day of the 12+ years that he's been dead. I don't need some dumb ass e-mail from Hallmark to remind me.

If my dad were still around; I would have bought him a card very similar to the one on the left...and we would have made great fun of it for being overly cheesy. I miss the little things like that...but then again I miss everything.

What the hell...

I would like it duly noted that if mind fucking things to death was an Olympic sport; I would win the gold medal in it.

I would love to figure out how to keep the hot, molten crazy side of my brain from leeching into the awesome, smart part of my brain. One of these days I will figure out how to keep the crazy from taking over. Until then, there is always hope that mind fucking gets its due in London come 2012.

Airport Hell

I think there needs to be some sort of ranking of travelers at the airport. To be fair there should be a test.

Sample Questions:
1. Do I need to take my shoes off to get through security? y/n

2. Can I tote my gallon of H2O in my purse? y/n

3. Do I need to hang on to my boarding pass? y/n

4. Because You've managed to spawn; you can use said troglodyte as an excuse to jump the no longer effective frequent flier line. y/n

5. Can a airline charge you for checking extra bags? y/n

It is mother of all amateur hours at the "airport du ATL" today. Stupid people don't deserve to fly.

Seven for Eight

Looks like a great hitting performance in a double header. It is also the number of weeks that I have been travelling for work.

People that spend more time on the road than me
1. Cross Country Truckers
2. Touring Musicians

I may actually get to be home the week after next. However, I'll be the girl not holding her breath.

On the Road Again

I have travelled over 1200 miles since Monday. WTF is up with that?

School Daze

As I was putting in my time on the treadmill today; the local news affiliate broke in with the following story. Nine third graders at the local Elementary School had cooked up a plan to kill their teacher. WTF...these kids are 9 years old and they are cooking up murder plots. Said juvenile delinquents brought the following things to school to pull this off: what appeared to be a boning knife, a big cut glass/crystal paperweight, handcuffs, rope, sticks, and other things I couldn't make out from my vantage point.

For those of you wondering what the teacher did to incur such wrath she did the following; she asked one of the kids to stop standing on a chair in class. She had the gall to ask to a 9 year old to do something that said 9 year old should already know to be inappropriate behavior.

I can't wait to see how the parents of these students are going to try to spin this. I'm sure that this will somehow be the teacher's fault. That she shouldn't have had behavioral standards in her classroom. These would be the same parents calling for her resignation if the "precious angel" had cracked his/her head open falling off the very chair she asked him/her to stop standing on.

The school district has suspended said juvenile delinquents. I hope that these kids are on the fast track for expulsion. Premeditated murder plot of a teacher in combination with putting all of the other kids in the classroom at risk for who knows what. Enjoy that wrap sheet that will haunt you until you're 18. Way to go geniuses you just made your life unnecessarily difficult.