The weirdest thing

Sunday, April 27, 2008

The funny thing, nay, the interesting thing about secrets is, that you more likely than not know exactly to whom you told them to. Take this little secret we have, for example. It’s nothing spectacular, honest, but it’s kinda our secret anyway and we like it that way. Now take our secret, X, and add this someone, lets call him Y, and we have Y visiting us, saying that he has heard a rumor, Z, about X.

If we only told Y about X, then it’s safe to assume that either a), Rumor Z does not exist, and is some sort of clumsy attempt at, what? What exactly?, or b), Z was started by Y and Y is telling us about it, hoping we won’t notice this little inconvenience of facts that all point to Y himself.

Honestly, it’s like I could just cry.

Anyway, on a happier note, S. accidentally burnt one of the other workers in the face with a blow torch. Somehow I think Jelly Man can go to work, as soon as he is well again (dude is nearly wiped out, by a tetanus shot no less..), and not feel like anyone is frowning at his upset behavior last Friday (that of which we shall no longer speaketh), because they’ll all be busy worrying about S. and his renegade blow torch-yielding, bad-ass self.

Ok, so it’s not nearly as happy as I first made it out to be, but I’m trying to see the silver lining here, and so far it’s working. Don’t ruin it now.. No word if the guy was seriously hurt, but I’d like to think S. would be enough of a human to say so, instead of just “I accidentally burned a guy with the blow torch. In the face.”

But I fear that would be expecting too much from S.

Scary thought, huh?

Anyway, spring has truly arrived, and mum is coming on Tuesday. Hopefully this time we’ll all play nice.

* * *

It’s weird how, the more sane I feel, with summer finally around the corner (you know, after spring), the more insane life is turning out to be. I’m looking forward to things taking a turn for the quieter.

Wow, I really am growing up!

Oh wailey, wailey, wailey

Monday, April 21, 2008

Things have reached an entirely new level of discomfort for Jelly Man at work, and it’s partially my fault. I got myself involved and let S. know what a shitty situation they put Jelly Man in last Friday, and the fact that he brought along a friend, who basically took the cost of Jelly Man and got in for free even though he doesn’t even work at the company makes S. partially responsible - beg forgiveness if the delicate flower that is S. can’t stand being accused of something, anything, guilty or not.

Of course he brushed it off as being the fault of Jelly Man for not bringing along money.

To a work sponsored event.

That everyone else got for free, plus S.’s neighbor*.

Except Jelly Man.

And they had even told him in beforehand that IT WOULD BE FOR FREE, so why should he bring money in the first place?

Hello?

..ello..

..ello...?

(Aren’t you just as dumbfounded as I am? I mean, seriously?)

*Of all people. He is always out and about on town, or abroad with just “the guys”, one starts to wonder. I mean, do you need to get away from your family so badly that you’re willing to pay for other people’s tickets just so you don’t have to go alone? Or, what? I’d really like to know.. And before you answer that, please refer to ** if you please, just scroll down a little and you’ll find it. Got it? Good. Resume.

It wouldn’t have been an issue if he had had options, instead of having to wait in a parking lot without any means of getting out of there and no other option than to just wait and hope they weren’t going to spend all night in there. It wouldn’t have been an issue if he’d been told from the start that they weren’t going to be able to pay for him - so he’d known to bring money or arrange another way for him to get his ass back home, it’s not like he was just DYING to see the sexhibition and that is what crushed him. It’s just the utter indifference at the fact that they’d just stranded him for hours, outdoors.

Talk about fostering a lousy foundation of trust between worker and boss. I mean, if they are going to need someone to work overtime, I’m sure Jelly Man won’t feel obligated to do it - and honestly, why should he? He has been a damn hard worker for nearly 2 years now, sometimes working upward 16 hours a day when things were really hectic and the boss was desperate for a project to be finished on time. But after this? Yeah.. Maybe not so much. Maybe not nearly so much, in fact.

So, today S. comes and tells Jelly Man that he gets enough bitching from home, then proceeds to show him the text I sent him regarding Friday’s incident.

Wow.

Dude has no integrity, whatsoever. Not cool S., so not cool. You hear? I’m telling you again, you fuck with me or mine, it’s not STDs** you have to worry about - and trust me, I know you worry about them, eh!? And forgive me for thinking that we were on a level here, since we have known each other for 6 fucking years by now - but I forgot that you don’t regard women as people, silly me. Cause, you know, I have a uterus, not a brain…

**Yes, shocking to find out that other people talk to their wives, too! You never saw that coming, did you? Cause you’re, like, this beautiful and unique snowflake, and everyone else pales in comparison to your glory, oh my, yes! Excuse me while I barf.

But, yes, am staying out of it from here on out (promise), and am feeling plenty guilty, even though I know that I had good intentions, and if his boss or S. are totally unwilling to admit that, gee maybe this wasn’t, well, very nice, pretty fucking mean actually, then they’re the fuckwitts here, not Jelly Man nor myself.

Thankfully Jelly Man has a docs appointment tomorrow for a refill of meds. And, you know, if he’s lucky he might get something that actually helps. From thereon we’re just going to have to ride it out, and if that isn’t enough - well, it’s not like he HAS to work there, unlike someone else *cough* *cough* who’d never survive in, what is lovingly known as, the real world.***

***You know, the one where you go to work 5 days a week for approximately 8 hours a day, with 30 minute lunch breaks - not 3 hours. Yeah, THAT world!

Oh, and unless you have business coming here, stay the fuck away.

Wait, let me make that simple for you, cause you don’t always seem to understand - so get ready for this next sentence, OK? It’s four whole words, so it might be tricky. Here it comes.. OK, ready, set.. GO!

STAY - THE - FUCK - AWAY.

You’re so not welcome, it’s not even funny. Boundaries, dude, boundaries.

* * *

To add insult to injury, the guy who tried to buy my beloved powertools off Jelly Man for 100€ (the set turned out to be worth $379, a lot more than 100€, he is wise, Jelly Man is!) openly called Jelly Man a thief at work today, and at the restaurant they were at last Friday, - insert a whole slew of jesusfuckingchristohmegodwhatthefuck? because Jelly Man? A THIEF? WHEN? WHERE? HOW? And finally, EXCUSE ME, COME AGAIN??? If someone has the means, or drive to steal from anyone or the company, it sure as hell isn’t Jelly Man. Yes, there is a drift, I hope you caught it!

Is someone jealous, perhaps? Cause if you ask me, those powertools do look zexay!

* * *

I’m just so fucking dumbfounded at the whole thing, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry - and pardon my frequent usage of the f-word.. It nearly wrote itself, honest.

Spending my time

Friday, April 11, 2008

My mum has had vacation this whole week, waiting for some money to arrive so she can come up and be our babysitter for another wild night of Dinner and a Movie.

Like, wow!

OK, OK, so I’ll drop the sarcasm, because the prospect of Dinner and a Movie sounds fan-fucking-tastic now that I really think about it. It’s just not the thing that would have gotten me all riled up a couple of years ago, and I’m still getting used to Dinner and a Movie being TEH SHIZ!

Jelly Man even said I could order, like, DRINKS.. You know, the ALCOHOL kind! And I’m all like, whatthefuckinghell have I done to deserve DRINKS, with ALCOHOL!?!? And he’s all like, I wanna take advantage of you, and I’m all like COOL! Lets go for it! (I want something with an umbrella in it, and lots of fruit, just in case you were curious.)

So, now we’re hoping my mum will make it up this weekend, because I don’t know if I can wait another week to have DRINKS with ALCOHOL.

* * *

Going to bed without emptying your bladder first, knowing very well that you really ought to, but being too tired to actually go do it makes for some really interesting dreams. I’ve already forgotten them, but I assure you they were a hoot. So much so that I woke up sideways in bed, with the baby smooshed up against the headboard. Poor thing.

Waking up these days is also a hoot - at least if the baby/toddler (I like to pretend, for as long as she isn’t TALKING, that she is still my baby) is wearing footie PJs. Carlita can now fully remove her footie PJs, AND her diaper, so while I scramble around for my old clothes in the morning, or some clean clothing if I feel all fancy-like, she is stripping it down to her birthday suit. We have yet to have a #2 accident, but I’m getting pretty used to finding the puddles and getting them wiped up (quickly, before I forget about it and step in it again, I might add. I often learn the hard way, I would also like to add.)

* * *

Also, one of my bestest friends called me yesterday (because it’s for FREE, or she wouldn’t call - but that’s OK cause I haven’t called her EVAH because I can’t call for free, heh!) and shared the exciting news that is the Harry Potter book series. I am really proud of her in a way that feels really wrong, because how often do you go around feeling proud of your friends as if they were your own children, over something like books?

When she told me she cried at the end of the last book she finished I nearly cried too! There are very few books that don’t make me cry when I finish them, honestly. I remember the first time I had to explain to my mum that I was crying because the book I’d just finished was good/sad/amazing, and not to worry! *sniffle* *blow* *wipe* And then subsequent boyfriends, as they tend to really freak out over the crying thing. If possible I feel even more close to her now that she knows what it’s like to cry over a book.

Also, because she now reads (omfg! SQUEE!) I’m making all sorts of lists in my head of books I think she’d enjoy, books that I wish I could read for the first time again. On our most recent trip to Stockholm I accidentally bought two copies of The Wintersmith by Terry Pratchett, and have been wondering what to do with it ever since. That is, until yesterday.

Aaawww...!

She did it again

Sunday, November 18, 2007

Earlier in the week, when I was complaining about Jelly Man having a toothache (yes, see? I can be horrible.. I was complaining about Jelly Man’s toothache!) my darling friend emailed me a tip about clove oil. “No!” I said, “Silly woman and your witchery!” I said, “We’ll get help from real professionals!” But just in case Jelly Man went to the pharmacy to look for clove oil. They didn’t have any for sale, but the nice lady at the counter went to the back of the store and pulled out a bottle that expired 2003 and told him not to use it, and if he did, not to tell anyone where he got it from.

Two days later, yesterday, Jelly Man went to the ER for an emergency checkup, because January 3rd is just way too long to go around with that kind of a toothache. If the tooth hadn’t killed him by then, I might have. They did a little bit of drilling before declaring the root completely and utterly infected - and guess what they pulled out as a quick fix..

Clove oil.

Moral of the story?

THERE IS NO POINT RESISTING. SEXY, WITCHY DICTATOR OF THE WORLD 1, HUMBLE SERVANT 0.