The Girlwonder

15
Nov
2011

I Want to Get High, So High

I made a terrible mistake.

I took my cat out on a leash.

I love being outside in the sun. Without sunshine on my face and body, I am a sad, sad person. So sad, in fact, that I started to think about how my poor inside cats must feel. I’m generally an indoor cat person but these cats grew up outside and only due to my abject poverty, are forced to live in a tiny studio. I assume it’s a cruel change for them, to lose the sunshine and smells from outside, not to mention the exercise and hunting practice that they must miss. But trust me, it’s no picnic for me either.

I hate cat boxes but that’s hardly the worst part. The worst part is my male cat who has endless energy and no way to expend it except by being annoying. He paces all night, often walking on me and my hair while I’m sleeping. He knocks things over. He races around the house, leaping off of things. I can’t blame him but it’s a real bitch to live with.

After I took him out for two short trips through the brush around the house on a leash and harness, he became that much more unbearable. Now he’s taken to sitting in the window and yowling as loud as he can in protest of his imprisonment. So loud, in fact, that I heard the neighbors talking to each other about it. Fortunately, no one has made the connection between the annoyingly loud cat and me but I’ve taken to keeping my windows closed when I go out, even when it’s nice outside. It’s a bummer and now the stupid cat can’t even sit in the fresh air at the window. Way to ruin it for everyone.

Yesterday, I may have stumbled upon a solution to my problem at the pet store. Calming cat treats. I admit it; I will try anything. I bought them, gave one to my guy and guess what? He was a happy little stoner all night. I’ve decided to save them for the evening when he’s acting up and hopefully the effects will last all night. Supposedly they are safe and you can give them up to three chews in a day when they are really making you insane. It’s too soon to tell for sure if it’s the answer I’ve been waiting for… but I have high hopes.

That’s step one in Operation Winterize. I have committed to staying here throughout winter, which is the worst. My place is small and when the doors and windows aren’t always open, like in summer, it gets stuffy and kind of funky inside. When the rains start, the walls get moist and mildew. I only have a space heater so it’s always either freezing or 100 degrees. My place, which is bright and cheery in the summer, is dark and somber in the winter. The only real benefit of winter is that it seems to kill whatever bacteria is in the water that makes it smell like sulfer and rotten eggs. Like I said, it’s a drag.

Step two – improve the air quality. I am not a plant person. I have a black thumb. Thank goodness for the Internets. I looked up the top 10 hardest plants to kill and decided to stick to the top 5. I’m loading my place with plants as I can afford them. Soon, it will be a lush, tropical oasis (ok, maybe not that many). Because the air is so yucky in here in the winter, I get really congested every day. Dust allergy or something. Hopefully, the plants will help with that. And with my mood. My first plant is Aloe – voted hardest to kill by the internet. I got another too, one with leaves. Now I need two hanging plants and some Snake plant for the bathroom. I’d get some kind of tree, like a Ficus but I think the cats would dig it up.

Now if nature can cooperate like it has been and we have a sunny winter, my life will hopefully be a little better.

Tags: drugs, hovel, kitty, small spaces
Posted in Madness

10
Oct
2011

Stinky Dog Cheese and Eye Gazing

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I love a good stinky cheese. So does my mom. The other day we were at a local grocery store chain and she picked up some delightfully triple-creamy, mold encrusted packet of fancy cheese and a baguette. Hungry, mom opened the cheese, broke off a piece of bread and took a bite. I did the same. It was a great cheese. However, after about 5 minutes in the car my mom says, “What is that smell? It smells just like my dog before I give her a bath.” And it was true – the cheese, when set to waft, smells exactly like my own dirty little Chihuahua leaving us to brand the cheese “stinky dog cheese.” Don’t ask me what kind it was – that’s both the official and unofficial name for it now. I’ve forgotten its real name.

So, I’m reading a book called The Four Hour Work Week. I’ve read the author’s blog for about a year now but I finally bought his book and I love it. I’ve suffered from Square Peg syndrome my whole life and whenever I stumble across someone who not only holds the same beliefs about things as I do, but has been successful with them, I get super excited. I’ve been trying to cram myself into jobs that weren’t a good fit for me since I got out of college because that’s what you do – you get a job that pays your bills, accrue your 10 days of vacation time a year and suffer until you reach either death or retirement (whichever comes first) so you can start “enjoying” your life. Sounds like a drag and it never worked for me for long. So I’m trying to find a way to make money that doesn’t sacrifice my fundamental beliefs about how my life should actually be – but that’s not the point of this painfully boring story.

The point is that at the end of the chapters, he gives you exercises. My very favorite exercise/challenge is eye gazing. In this simple exercise, you stare at people until they are forced to look away. The author suggests blinking at least so that they don’t mistake you for a psychopath, but not to break the gaze of the other person before they do. I freakin LOVE this.

First, you learn that most people don’t look at other people in the eyes because it can be really hard to get someone to make eye contact with you. At the film festival, this guy held open a door for me and while I was walking in, I stared right in his face and thanked him. He didn’t look at my eyes once, even though he responded verbally and smiled.

Second, you learn that staring at people makes them uncomfortable. I sincerely enjoy making people uncomfortable so this was just a bonus for me. The more unsettled the person, the more fun the exercise. I know this says something terrible about me but I don’t care. It makes me feel very powerful and the only thing I like more than feeling powerful is feeling smug.

Third, you meet a lot of people. People who don’t look away right away are often compelled to come and talk to you. This did not work out for the guy at the gala event I went to who mistook me for a furniture-moving volunteer and tried to entice me into rearranging the tables so people could dance more freely. That was quite embarrassing for him since I got the feeling that he was trying to use that as some way to hit on me – as if I would think he was so important for being a gala night attendee that I would fall on my knees with gratitude at his dance-floor arrangement wisdom and not only move all of the tables but also insist on a giving him sexual favors for the privilege of serving. Um, yeah right.

Really though, the exercise did what it was supposed to do. It got me out of my comfort zone and used to looking people in the face. I got out of this habit mostly from living out of the country. Making eye contact was an invitation to be harassed either by men who would stalk me through the grocery store or follow me for 10 blocks or to be sold something I didn’t need, like a timeshare, bobble-head turtle or a kidney. As a result, I created an air of hostility and avoided all eye contact with other people for two years. It’s a tough habit to break.

I am cured, hallelujah. Now my favorite part of the day is staring at the people who are unfortunate enough to be trapped within my steely gaze. The immediate benefit is that I now have 60% more hot guys smile and talk to me than I did before. Granted, I also have 80% more weirdos and creepsters talk to me too but you can’t win them all.

This feeds directly into yet another self-improvement project codenamed, “Reality TV.” I have watched a disgusting amount of reality TV this year – after years and years of avoiding it. Naturally, it’s fascinating to me because I love to study people. I’ve noticed that there are a lot of women like me on TV – strong, opinionated women with broken filters and anger management issues. I’ve started to notice how terrible their behaviour makes them look and I see my own behaviour reflected back. It’s kind of …appalling. Now I imagine that my life is a reality TV show and so I behave as if that were the case. I try to catch myself before I lose my temper at an inept clerk or server or before I give a sarcastic, nasty answer to someone who asks me a stupid question.

Case in point: I’m standing behind a man using the ATM because the second ATM is inoperable. A woman approaches and asks me, “Is that ATM out of order?” Despite the fact that the ATM says quite clearly on the screen that it’s out of order, why exactly would I be standing in line if it were working? Any way you look at it, it was a dumb question.

Did I reply with, “No. I just like to stand in lines?” No. I did not. I said, “yes. It is.” And that’s it. I didn’t even roll my eyes, exaggeratedly sigh or openly mock her at all. I made a polite response and then shut my mouth.

So, because staring at people’s eyeballs makes them talk to me, it’s a good chance to practice changing my immediate response to social interaction from hostile to friendly. I had a 7 minute conversation about meat in the supermarket today with the butcher dude. I didn’t actually care about what kind steak works best on a countertop grill; I just wanted to engage the guy in a conversation because I could. Weird, right? I know, it’s like you hardly know me at all.

This same approach landed me a very exciting interview with a French chocolate magnate which could lead to a job. Yep, I’m a believer. I’m getting a lot of other good things from the book too but this is by and far my favorite challenge.

Tags: books, making people uncomfortable, reality TV, staring
Posted in Twaddle

03
Oct
2011

What I Want to Be When I Grow Up

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I want a new career. Sometimes I think I bungled up my life so much, there’s not much point in trying to correct things now. But then I think about the little old lady who went back to school at 70 to become a doctor, so I set aside the wallowing and start thinking about how I’d like to support myself for the next, oh about 40-50 years or so.

I hate getting up early more than just about anything, so first and foremost, my new career must allow for me to set my own schedule at least part of the time. I’ve tried the get up at 6am to be at work every day by 8am and it doesn’t work for me. I never get used to it. I’m always tired.

I don’t want to sit at a desk all the time. If I have to spend 40-50 hours at a desk or in a cube every week, the job won’t last long. My goal is to find a job that doesn’t require much time on a computer so that I can finally WANT to sit at the computer and write something meaningful for myself.

I make my own best boss. Little to no supervision is ideal for me. I am most successful when I’m self-directed and able to act independently without micromanaging from above.

It should be social. I know, I am not known for my love of people. It’s a love/hate thing. I do very well with interpersonal interaction on the job. Networking and sales come naturally to me. My other strengths are problem-solving, creativity, being artistic and having a great deal of charm (when necessary). I’m also an idiot-savant when it comes to technology.

It has to pay the bills. I don’t live high on the hog, but I’d like to have a little room between my expenses and my bank account.

So, those are my main parameters. I need to find a new job or a new career to work towards that fills those requirements. Field sales or marketing are the obvious choices. I’m more interested in jobs like professional gambler or private investigator or bounty hunter. Underwater archeology, lion taming and being a Vodka mogul are also intriguing.

Realistically, I’m 38 so I have 30 more years or so to work. Supposing I could find a way to support myself while I went back to school full time, I could potentially get a whole new degree in 4-5 years and STILL have 25 years to work in a new field. So the floor is open… what’s the perfect job/career for me? Because I have no freakin idea right now.

Posted in Madness, Therapy

25
Aug
2011

To Grill or Not to Grill

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Being unemployed after several months of frenetic full-time work is a little difficult. I’m pretty bored. I’m in the position again where I need to limit my driving and my spending, so there’s not a lot to do but hang out at home. When your home is the size of a shoebox, it’s easy to run out of things to do. I read, clean, organize, job hunt, groom myself, walk the dog and other assorted tasks but there are many hours in the day to kill. This week those extra hours will be taken up by grilling things and episodes of Celebrity Big Brother.

First, my obsession with BB started this summer when I realized that there is more to the game than I previously thought. Now I look forward to seeing how people crack under pressure, how they humiliate themselves on national television and seeing what schemes and plans work and which ones don’t. Manipulation and lying are entertaining to watch. What could be better? Watching celebrities reveal who they really are, melt down, lie and manipulate each other. Now that’s television!

It’s even better than it’s the UK version because I don’t know diddly squat about UK celebs. The only person who I actually recognized on this season is Tara Reid but I don’t really know what she’s famous for besides a horrific boob job and drinking a lot. I do know that she speaks like she’s on some serious medication and with this strange accent. I had to Google her to find out where she’s from – it turns out, New Jersey. I know she’s not part of the Eastern European mob, so I’m not sure where her accent came from. Maybe she’s channeling Kathleen Turner. Last episode, she was crying because the energy in the house frightened her and because she was worried that BB would break her career and she would never work again. I suspect it’s more likely that she won’t work again because people rarely get paid to drink and party and that seems to be the only thing she excels at.

The best part of the show is Jedward, the 19 year old Irish twins who apparently are like pop stars or something? I love them. They are adorable and hilarious and very fashion forward. I wish they had their own show. I would watch it.

When I’m not watching BB in some iteration (currently watching season 2 to see the evil Dr. Will manipulate the houseguests), I’m attempting to grill things on my new countertop grill. I didn’t not buy a George Foreman grill but it’s similar. It’s a fancier Cuisanart one and I bought it because I don’t have a very good way to cook certain things seeing as my place has no oven. Yesterday was experiment #1, I “grilled” teriyaki turkey medallions. Ultimately, we learned that they are too thick to grill properly. Today we will try kabobs with steak, peppers and mushrooms.

I bought a shit-ton of things to grill – Ahi tuna, steak, chicken, veggies plus sandwiches like the one I’ll be having for lunch today – fresh mozzarella, heirloom tomatoes and turkey grilled on english muffin. YUM!

Here it is Thursday – a whole week almost gone. I applied to some great jobs this week though and it’s actually my favorite part of being unemployed – I kind of like the excitement of limitless options and not knowing what I’ll be doing for my next job. I might be writing a new book. I’m waiting to hear back from the publisher. Until then, grill on!

Posted in Twaddle

17
Aug
2011

Fini

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After spending the last several months wondering why exactly my rageaholic boss hated me so much, she finally canned me just three days before the end of the job. I’m actually not sure whether I was technically fired (implying that she plans on going with that I did something somehow to deserve it) or if my contract prematurely ended. When I asked for a reason, I was told that I spent too much time in one spot and that my services were no longer needed. Of course, in a meeting 20 days prior, I was told specifically in front of several people that that was exactly where I was to spend my time. In the end, I feel good about my performance for it was truly the best that I could do. I controlled my moodiness, my flippant attitude and threw 100% in the job and I’m proud of my professionalism and what I accomplished there. I think my work stands on its own merit and even if she did bad-mouth me to someone, it would be taken as sour grapes by anyone who actually worked with me.

Frankly, it makes the maddest when people try to bully others (me, not as much but when I see it happen to meeker personalities, it really chafes my hide) and when I get fired for made-up reasons. I know it was because she didn’t like my personality or my face or maybe even she was threatened by my popularity with the staff and the glowing praise that was heaped upon me there or maybe because I finally stood up to her inappropriate treatment and she didn’t want me inciting the staff to also take a stand for their self worth… I will never know. The thing is that she didn’t need to make up an excuse because I was clearly upset after she screamed in my face and wagged her finger in front of my nose so I made no secret of my disdain for her or her unprofessional behaviour. She could have fired me for that – instead she made up some bullshit. It doesn’t matter – I wouldn’t work for her again on a dare.

I was furious for about 24 hours. Or until I stayed up until 3am, slept in until noon, made a hearty breakfast, cleaned the house, walked the dog, did laundry, took a 2 hour nap and then made a delicious dinner… then I was ok with being fired or laid off or whatever it was and couldn’t remember for the life of me why I wanted the job in the first place.

Whether it’s the residual from having had a full time+ job for the last several months or just an abundance of energy because I’ve been losing so much weight, I’ve been super productive lately. Cleaning, organizing, running errands, getting dressed at a reasonable hour…plus exercising every day. I’m only 3 lbs away from having lost a full 20lbs and 1 lb away from breaking the next 5lb marker. I still have a ways to go to make my goal but I’m more committed than ever. My biggest problem has always been night snacking so the solution was simple – don’t keep things in the house that I will overindulge on (or that it matters if I overindulge). My cupboards are nearly bare except for ingredients for making meals, mandarin oranges in 100% juice and all natural no sugar added apple sauce. I get bored, want to snack, roam around the house and eventually sit back down in frustration. Then I feel very successful.

It’s sort of a learning process – what I can and cannot have in the house. Cheese is a no-no. Bread has to be limited. No peanut butter. I can’t resist peanut butter. I also make sure not to have ingredients for making things that are bad for me. I eat yogurt for breakfast every day, have a big ass lunch and a light dinner then oranges and applesauce or a hot chocolate for dessert. Once a week, I undo my good works and splurge on some craving, typically on grocery shopping day but it keeps me from losing my shit and binging on Its-Its and Cheetos.

With this plan in place, I will easily reach my goal weight by the time I’m 65 and ready to start dating again. Or really, if I put my mind to it – 3.5 months. (but 6 mo seems more likely with my two steps forward, one step back diet plan).

I’m not taking any classes this semester. I gave up the scholarship award that I won – the money wasn’t that important to me. It’s enough to know that I won. I need to focus on figuring out what I want to do for work. After my last experience, I’ve pretty much realized that a full-time 40+ hour a week job isn’t in my future. I’ve got a lot of years left to kill that I’ll need to support myself so I guess I’ll spend it job hopping, freelancing and picking up contract work. I really like the “work full time for 4 months and then take a few months off and do it again” model of employment. The only caveat would be if I got one of the video game editor jobs that I’ve applied for. I would not only work full-time but move back to the city as well. Really though, I enjoy the excitement of not knowing when the job interview call or email will come or what job I might end up doing next.

Posted in Twaddle

06
Aug
2011

9 Down, 8 to Go

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I thought the worst of it was behind me. For a time there, I spent every ride home from work crying. Only about two weeks or so. Yesterday was so deja vous. We have a big event coming up and there was going to be a meeting. Boss 1 tells me to come to the meeting and that Boss 2 is at something else and can’t make it. Boss 2 shows up 3 minutes later enraged that we started to have a meeting without her and screams in my face, pointing in my face in front of the rest of the people in the room. All I did was show up. It wasn’t my meeting. My sole purpose for being there was to listen. But somehow again, it was me who gets screamed at, belittled and embarrassed in front of everyone else in the office.

Not the first time. It’s happened fairly regularly since I started. Once I said something wrong in a meeting, not being smart or funny, just ignorant I guess. She slapped me down in front of the entire board room table full of people. It was awful. She’s just so goddamn mean. Yesterday was so out of the blue and so uncalled for and so unprofessional, I almost rage quit. I almost just put my stuff down and walked out the door. It’s a really shitty position to be in. I love my job. I love most of the people I work with. I make good money. I have a good schedule. But I work with a mean, unfriendly person who clearly hates me on a personal level because I’ve heard nothing but how great I’ve been doing from everyone but her. She never has anything nice to say to me. Even the big project I slaved over and was so proud of and that one person from the community even emailed her about to say it was the best she’s seen in her whole life of living in this area, she said “I think it’s bland.”

And now, the job that I woke up excited for every day mostly, especially in the last couple of weeks, I dread going to. I don’t want to there at all. I don’t want to see this person. I don’t want her to talk to me. And unless she really hates my guts, she’ll most likely be asking me to work for them again next year because like I said, everyone else thinks I’m doing an amazing job. So the $24,000 question is: how much abuse am I willing to tolerate for a job like no other?

That’s the rub. This is a job that I really like and is perfect for me. Perfect. I feel like I would be foolish to walk away from it. But then again, how many tears is it worth? I guess I just have to see how the next 8 days go.

Posted in Fury

04
Aug
2011

7 Down, 10 to Go

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Remember the cute boy who was my imaginary boyfriend? I decided that I needed more drama in my life, so I married him (in my head) before I divorced him. It was nice – we lived in a nice yellow house with a big porch and had two imaginary children that we never saw because they were always playing quietly outside. Even at night.

Well, I say I divorced him but really it was mutual. I was concerned at the unending parade of young women he keeps company with and he took issue with my objection to hosting uterine parasites. Maybe it’s living in this fertile valley and the type of people it attracts but everyone wants babies. I like babies – other people’s babies (assuming that they behave and can be returned more or less in the same condition they arrived in). When my sister moves back, I will be the best aunt ever, even offering to pay for the therapy that her children will need to deal with my explanations of simple holidays and family traditions.

Posted in Twaddle

02
Aug
2011

5 Down, 12 to Go

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I made it through the first week. I hit a wall on Sunday night at about 6pm, sleepwalked (sleptwalked?) through another hour, got some food to go and went home to start my 24 hours off (ha ha ha). Of course, I had 3 text messages when I woke up at 8am. Why my body hates sleep and me, I will never learn. Is it a penalty for the weird and terrible diet I keep? Is it karma for refusing to ever get up early during college? I don’t know but whatever it is, it sucks. My body will wake me up 60-90 minutes before I have to get up and 9 out of 10 times, I can’t get back to sleep. That’s wasted sleep! I hate being wasteful and with sleep most of all.

I decided since I had worked 7 straight days and would be on the hook for another 6 starting today, that I would treat myself with some of the overtime I made. I got my nails done because they needed it and then I booked a massage and facial. I spent two blissful hours in a spa and despite still being exhausted, I came out feeling like a new human. I really got a lot done yesterday. While two hours of pampering – maybe three if you count the nails was very relaxing, the rest of the day and night I cleaned the house, did several loads of laundry, grocery shopping, banking, washed the car, went to the pet store for chow and then took the dog for a run. A short run, but a run nonetheless. I felt bad about his week, so I did run. Seeing as I normally only run if people are chasing me with pitchforks, consider that love.

I also washed my dog. I’ve been threatening to do this for well over a month but by the end of the day, I think it’s too cold for him to be wet (it’s not exactly warm here at night and I’m not turning on the heat) or I’m just too tired. Good thing I don’t have a baby, am I right?

I changed the sheets and all that other good housework stuff, did dishes so I can have clean coffee cups…very successful day.

Today won’t be too terrible at work because it’s a light day. I also found out that the place where I get my foot massages has a booth so I will be getting massage throughout the week, whenever I feel like I might crack.

I was so damn tired when I got off work on Sunday night that I couldn’t remember what garbage bags are called. Then after all of that, I forgot to buy some when I was at the store. Now I have to ferry out the trash in plastic shopping bags normally reserved for cat box cleaning every time I create garbage.

On the plus side, both the massage and facial ladies were interested in my PR services and I told them both that I’d work for trade or partial trade since those are the things I like to spend money on anyway and they aren’t likely to put me on retainer for $2k per month. Win-win. Now I need to find a pilates/yoga person to trade with and I’ll be set with my luxuries during my next run of unemployment while I look for a new contract job. I’m all about the barter system!

Posted in Twaddle

31
Jul
2011

Four Down, 13 to Go

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I’m exhausted. I get my first day off in 7 tomorrow and have to spend it running around doing errands. Still, it’s only two more weeks. I can take it. Especially since it means two more weeks of spending time with my imaginary boyfriend.

He’s absolutely dreamy. Very handsome but not in an obnoxious way. Wicked smart. Tall. Of course, I’m working so there’s no real flirting going on although yesterday I got the third degree about my marital/child/relationship status. Sometimes (most of the time) I hate that I have no governor but I guess at my age, it’s like “well, here I am – like it or lump it.” I probably share too much but I guess that’s what makes me, me. Frankly, I never thought I’d meet an age-appropriate, single, childless man who I would also find mentally and physically attractive – so already I’m ahead of the game. It’s like seeing a unicorn. It’d be great to pet one, but seeing it in person is magical enough.

Let’s keep it professional, people! Although as soon as he leaves my office, I become a girly blushing mess…(I know, it’s funny when I picture it too).

Yesterday was such a better day so hopefully it will only continue to improve. The best thing is that I’m getting so much great feedback from reporters and people I’m working with. They hands down say that they love working with me, that I’m a tremendous improvement over the last person in my position, that I’m helpful … You know I love praise. More than anything, that’s what I work so hard for… so I eat it up and then diplomatically suggest that they email my boss and tell her that word for word if they’d like to see me again next year.I’m probably not supposed to do that, but hey – promotion is my business and there’s nothing I love to promote more than myself. In fact, that’s one my selling points — most people don’t know how or like to sell themselves because they think modesty is a good quality to have (but that doesn’t work when you need people to notice you) so that’s where I come in. I have no problem telling people how great I am and I’ll have no trouble telling them how great you are either. Or how great Lane is… let’s call him Lane after my favorite movie character, shall we?

Don’t you remember being about to go out on a warm summer night in shorts and tank top as a kid? What the hell is wrong with this weather? It’s freezing in July. FREEZING. It’s cold in the morning; it’s cold at night. Yesterday we got about 4 hours of sun and heat. It’s JULY. In California. If this shit keeps up, I might need to move to the tropics again.

I’m taking two classes at the JC this semester – In Design and Illustrator. Both because I think the skills will really help round out my freelance capabilities. Both are one day a week – one at a reasonable time and one at 9am. I know – I didn’t think I could do it either but this job has taught me that I can get up early and do things when I have to. Look at me – learning new things!

Posted in Twaddle

29
Jul
2011

15 to Go

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Let me share just a little of how my day went yesterday.

Five minutes after I woke up, I got a bloody nose for no reason. I just spontaneous start pouring blood out of nose. It was probably caused by my brain exploding when I read the misquote a back-stabbing journalist put in the paper making it look like I not only talk shit about my employer but argue with our sponsors as well.

I walk face first into a spiderweb, leaving the occupant attached to my sunglasses, causing me to freak out and throw all my shit on the ground. I let loose a stream of expletives that actually made me blush.

I get yelled at as soon as I get to work. Run around like a headless chicken because people keep calling me away from what I’m doing to deal with press people. I finally get it together and have an ok rest of the day.With the exception of a brewing PR nightmare of a disgruntled “personality” who apparently just sits around talking smack about my employer to anyone who will listen (and a lot of people are around to listen).

I leave to go to a show that my family likes to go to annually. Five minutes into the drive home, I’m remembering last year and the last few outdoor shows I’ve gone to. They never end well. Last night was no exception – two very wide people sat in front of me in tall lawn chairs so I literally couldn’t even see the backdrop of the stage. It was nice to see the fam but the show was less than thrilling when you can’t see the performers. I can listen to loud music in my house or truck and not have to deal with drunk people talking and shouting or people walking in front of me or port-a-potties. I left early.

So that was my one short day of work for the next 15+ days.

Posted in Twaddle

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