Caterwauling

Class was rather anticlimactic. I danced with Dave most of the time and Mike for the rest. We’re down to seven participants in the class. Deirdre is in New Orleans for a tennis tournament, and Bonnie couldn’t make it again, so I hope the whole gang is together for our last class. I see exchanging of phone numbers (certain persons named Mike in particular *wink*) as being mandatory.

I asked Mike what brought him to the class, and he said that he’s the best man in two weddings this summer, and he thought it would be nice to know how to dance at the receptions. *awwwww!!!* How sweet! I almost felt bad for not paying attention and screwing up the steps, knowing that he didn’t even take the class for fun. 😉

I was pleased today when finally, the girls had an easier time and the guys had to twirl around us. Ha! Then, we learned a step where, after the guys twirled, so did the girls. Bah! And then the instructor used me as teacher’s pet to show the rest of the class how to do it. I did fine with her (thank god!) and didn’t manage to kill her, although I did protest vehemently to using me as the model by which the other ladies should learn the steps. 🙂

Next week will just be a review of everything we learned, which should be fun. I never *get* the steps on the night I learn them, but I somehow remember them and do them somewhat correctly the next week, so this should be entertaining, if nothing else. See Dawn dance! See Dawn sign up for classes at Mosaic Makers next. LOL. Dave is talking about taking ASL classes next, but all I ever learned from ASL classes is two different ways to say “bullshit.” Of course, I took the class at Easter Seals, which was nothing BUT bullshit at my particular affiliate (the Western Pennsylvania headquarters in Pittsburgh, for those keeping track of my employment follies).

Dave asked Mike and Stephanie to join us in a donut run, but they declined. I guess things ain’t meant to be there, but oh well. Straight men typically have no interest in hanging out with me — I guess I’ll be a fag hag for life! 😉

I can’t seem to recall ever having been with an Aries, but hell, they can always be next! Of course, I haven’t known half of their last names, let alone their freakin’ sun signs. …

You’ll Fall in Love With An Aries!

You want a lover like Aries, one who knows what he / she wants and goes after it.

You fall for assertive Aries almost instantly… the only sign powerful enough to sweep you off your feet.

Your Aries is dominant and romantic – bringing you lots of adventure.

You are attracted to people who are completely in charge.

Nothing turns you on more than surrendering completely, to the right person.

Symbols of power turn you on – from flashy cars to an Aries with lots of charm.

The trade off is that your Aries has trouble commiting and lack stamina.

You’ll have to try extra hard to make the relationship fresh and fiery.

Keep that burst of passion going past the third date, and you are on your way!

What Sign Should Your Lover Be?

More Great Quizzes from Quiz Diva

I didn’t realize that my training was supposed to start today. I rolled in around noon (granted, I’ve been up typing and editing my stories since before 6 a.m.), just as the session was letting out for lunch. Heh. I was busting my butt so I could at least make an appearance tomorrow, which I will, but I’m sure Demure will catch wind of the fact that I worked from home until the exact moment that the training ended, and I’ll hear again what a disappointment I am.

But all in all, I wrote two stories, edited two stories, solved several layout-related issues and an advertising issue during the first six hours of my workday. I still have two more stories to finish and three more sections to tweak, and all of this must be done before 4 p.m. today. And yet they think I have all the time in the world to sit on my ass in a training.

I did get the lowdown from Shan about the training — she said it was good (because it was a non-staff member who conducted it), but that the class was full of the usual assholes, so that kind of ruined it. Tomorrow’s class will be conducted by Frosty, so I know to make an appearance, whether I want to or not!

Just spent $30 on an adapter for my DVD player so that it can work with my 1993 TV. Only problem is, there’s another cord I will have to buy that doesn’t come with the fucking adapter. At this point, I might as well return the whole mess and buy a new TV. Or prostitute myself. Whichever comes first. 😉

I am so fucking bored with my stories. I am actually going to go into work now for a change of scenery. It’s a good hair day, though. I am wearing jeans and sandals — although more appropriate Club Medicated gear would be fuzzy robes and bunny slippers, not to mention paper pill cups in our hands. 🙂

Although I was disgusted by my ear-bashing by Demure, I did go into work on Saturday night, and I worked from home Sunday night. I am going to go in late today, as I will stay until just before dance class starts. If I can get my stories together by mid-afternoon, my guy is promising me a draft of the paper first thing tomorrow to circulate. Woo hoo! Right on schedule!

Demure is on vacation all week. Did I mention all week? Hell yeah! She’s not altogether that helpful to me — it’s more like she’s underfoot. I find it hysterical that she used to work for one of our biggest divisions, until they canned her ass, so the national organization hired her and kept her for 20 years. Isn’t that insane? My respect for that division went up a ton — not to mention, they’re so frustrated with the national organization that they are trying to get their charter revoked so they can be done with us. Some days, I just can’t blame them, although they really are a bunch of stuck-up snots sometimes.

I’ve had hives for a week. I have them both at work and at home. In fact, the only time I feel good anymore is when I’m out and about. Had a good weekend shopping with Shawn early Saturday and by myself Sunday, and I really enjoyed hanging out at home this weekend. Unfortunately, I had a box avalanche — one of the bottom boxes in a ceiling-high stack collapsed, leaving a mess in the corner, so I re-packed a couple of the boxes before I got fed up. I am so tired of having 50 percent of my belongings in a place where I can’t even see or use them.

At work, I’m producing my fifth issue alone. I hope by my seventh, I have help. I am beyond burnout — I’m in full-fledged meltdown mode. I understand the candidate pool isn’t all that wonderful, but I won’t settle for just anyone to work in my department.

Finished a really hard story last night (hard=boring). Now to wrap up four more boring ones. I can’t wait till this paper goes to press — it’s my birthday weekend, and I am not setting foot in or near the Veggie Patch if I can help it. My true gift to myself.

Bought some clothes this weekend. Spent way too much money, although everything was on sale. I think I got screwed out of a discount on this springlike work outfit I found at Hecht’s, but by that point, I was so accustomed to salesclerk incompetence that I just wanted to get the fuck out of the store. Bought a bunch of long shirts to wear with jeans. Instead of buying more clothes in more sizes, perhaps I should drag said fat ass to the gym to whittle it down to fit into the existing wardrobe. Hmm. We’ll see.

Haven’t had a cigarette since Saturday. Perhaps the goal right now is not to quit outright, but rather to save smoking just for special occasions. It’s just so hard, when the special event is over, to train myself to not want a cancer stick in my mouth at all times. I guess being denied a pacifier as a child has made me need to have something in my mouth for comfort. 🙂