Rebellion and Meltdowns
It’s nearly 4 a.m. as I start what I hope will be a short diatribe (yeah, right — I haven’t blogged for weeks!!!). All I can say is that my digestive tract is in absolute rebellion right now, as my multiple-beers-and-shots (4 Chocolate Cake and 2 Kamikaze) and some really bad smokey treats I got my hands on are in mortal combat with my equilibrium.
Shan nearly quit the job today, and frankly, I was ready to storm out yesterday. Seems that the fungus at the top of the Veggie Patch has deemed that those who are due for 180-day reviews in the New Year (i.e., Shan and me) will get our reviews and not our raises … but H.R. announced in yesterday’s manager’s meeting that “at least they will get a big (retro) check on July 22.” I almost ripped her bottle-blonde hair from her head, strand by painful strand. How flip and how inappropriate from a so-called leader of this organization, as if such a word as “organization” can ever be used in reference to that place.
As y’all probably remember, my decision to move here to Northern Virginia was contingent upon the fact that I was promised a raise after six months of living in perfect squalor. Granted, I make okay money, but at $16K less than the pain and agony of Two Strikes, I’ve traded a bad situation for, well, a different bad situation.
I wanted to tell the associate executive assistant esquire doctorate whatever the fuck they call themselves at that place (everyone’s all about the 15-word titles there) that that check will not do me a whole fucking lot of good when my car gets repossessed due to the fact that I am unable to meet my regular payments and that the raise, when effected, per month is just pennies more than the car payment I miss so faithfully. Yeah, dumb fat fucking bitch who has NO room to be smug about anything — when my car gets repo’d, and I’m not able to drive to the Veggie Patch (and the Metro is two miles away and still wouldn’t get me there), what are ya gonna do then?!?!
I get it, though. If we quit before July 22, they don’t owe us shit. However, Shan and I both have offer letters that state that we will be eligible for raises at that six-month mark, and damn it, we need to enforce that.
IKEA Boy feels horrible, that he dragged me down here, only to deal with nothing but aggravation and near-poverty at this job that he bragged about. Personally, I love my supervisor, I love my workload, I love piss-and-moan sessions with Shan, and I love the fact that I could totally blow off today because I was in a bad fucking mood, and my supervisor had no problems whatsoever with me being completely uninvolved with the press run today. I’ll make up for it Monday, but I would’ve had a meltdown today, had I had to deal with anything related to the Veggie Patch.
Unfortunately, Shan DID enter a meltdown phase today, as the shit kept hitting the fan and her feet were chained to the base of it. She had some choice words for Jackie, and she left early. Go, Shan! I was touched because she told him flat-out that the thing that keeps her there is me. 🙂 Awwwww. Touche.
I wouldn’t say that we drank ourselves into oblivion tonight. Granted, we had a lot more than usual, but we’re usually coherent enough to drive home. Well, tonight was an adventure, and I’m forcing myself to drink water to try to help with the hangover that will inevitably sledgehammer me tomorrow. Although, the water is rebelling. Damn it.
IKEA Boy hung out with us for a little while, which we enjoyed. Actually, IKEA Boy, his beloved and I went to see the new James Bond flick today … at 10:40 a.m. … we were there nearly an hour early. LOL. The movie was awesome … it’s the first movie I’ve been to in years, and my first in Virginia. I did the Wal-Mart ‘ho thing and found that my beloved, Jon Bon Jovi, is on the cover of People magazine. I so had to buy it! 🙂
At any rate, toward the end of the evening at Benny’s, just before last call (mind you, we had arrived at 5:30 p.m.), an old neighbor of Shan’s, G3, walked past us. Those two hugged and caught up, and G3 joined us, and we invited his friend John to join the festivities as well.
I really enjoyed them both. G3 is a cute Hispanic boy, and John is all-Italian. We ended up at their place, and well, we had more beers, smoked some damn strong smokey treats (I think they were laced with something, ‘cuz Shan and I got SICK AS FUCKING DOGS after we took our two meager hits) and played with glow sticks. Some other guys came over (I’m hard-pressed to remember their names — maybe Jose and Michael), and we just chilled. I ended up in the bedroom with G3 (of course), but let me just tell this story as only Dawn can. … 🙂
All right, I had the feeling last week that I was going to meet somebody. So did Shan. This week, however, we both walked out with phone numbers. Note the plural form of that last word. LOL. So anyway, to keep myself chaste and pure (oh, Christ — how many of you believe THAT?!?!), I wore holey black undies and didn’t shave my legs for at least a day. I figured, hell, that always keeps me out of trouble, right?
Wrong!!! Okay, so we were totally hooking up on his bed (which, ironically, has a similar comforter as my own lair), and he had my shirt open and was starting to yank down my underwear, but I noticed that he was pulling it by — you guessed it — one of the holes!!! GAAAAAAHHHH!!!
I did a calisthenic twist and practically caught his, ahem, manhood like a vise. (Lord, what manhood he has!!! It’s been quite some time since I’ve seen/felt a real-live boy. hee hee.) It was soooo fun, though. I miss hooking up with guys in bars, with no commitment, no feelings, just pure animalistic passion. Whew. It was sweeeeeetttt.
My lips are SO red and swollen right now. lol. Mmmmm.
He does seem like a nice guy, one I probably will keep in my life for a little while, maybe longer. I was impressed, I hate to say it, by the fact that he said that if we did have sex, he’s all about doing it safely and providing protection. Now, that’s a good guy. I know, it probably sounds stupid to many folks out there, but I’ve had more than my fair share of men who argue with me that they don’t want to wear a condom, that it doesn’t FEEELLLL right, that it’s my responsibility to get on the Pill.
Look, I’ve been on the Pill, and I’m not opposed to getting back on it … FOR THE RIGHT GUY. Do I really want to go back to hot flashes and shivers and more extreme mood swings and all the other fucking around with my hormones? Not really. Not that I meant to share such personal info, but a guy who’s all about having fun safely is somebody I can respect.
Shan knows G3 and really likes him, so based on that alone, I’m willing to take him more seriously than I might with some other guy I met in a bar.
John and I had some bonding time as well. For some weird reason, he took me into G3’s room and locked the door. We hung out on the bed and just talked. I wasn’t sure what his motive was, but I know that trick too well — if in fact it WAS a trick — to get a girl alone and see if she’s all over every guy within arm’s reach. But I don’t think he would have minded that, quite honestly. But I don’t get between friends. No way in hell. Friends were around long before me, and they’ll be there long after me. 🙂
But I think I’d have fun with G3 if we do go out on a date or so. I need some excitement in my life (not like I haven’t been living a whirlwind existence for the past several years — hee hee).
Speaking of dates, I was kinda pulling for RK to step up to the plate and get up the cajones to ask me out for this weekend. I felt like it was coming. We have talked via IM nearly every day for the past two weeks, and he has also called my workplace three times to chat briefly. We’ve also gotten into some racy exchanges that I am CERTAIN the associate executive esquires whatever have observed. lol. At any rate, I have taunted him a bit with the fact that while it’s easy to make plans with me, my schedule fills up pretty fast. And he even took note that I’ll be out of town for the next two weekends after this one, but he didn’t do a damn thing about it.
I mean, damn, I gave him my gold, silver and platinum options for crawling off of my shit list, and he was most interested in the platinum plan, but for that one, I advised him to reach a live representative for details. He asked how to reach a rep, and I said to call on or before a Wednesday for the following weekend. Well, after Wednesday came and went, I made alternate plans. At this point, I’m not opposed to seeing him again for a date, but I’m not going to go clearing plans to accommodate, either.
I wonder, though, why he’s back in my life. He could have just ignored my e-mail (as he did for a few weeks). He said that he was down in the dumps about his job situation (which may leave him laid off on Dec. 15 with no severance), but I think I could’ve been at least a source of amusement during these down-and-out times. 🙂
He has given me two major things to consider for the New Year — one, as mentioned in my Executive Summary below, is to not renew my lease and to move in with him come July for a rate that is cheaper than what I’m paying here, although it will be farther away from Alexandria. Pros and cons are abounding. The fact is, I want to move (but without a raise, that will be nearly fucking impossible), and my heart was set on grabbing a cute little studio in Arlington in Bryan and Paul’s building. I’ll be turning 29 in a few months, and at this ripe old age, I don’t want to move in with someone again unless it’s a man with whom I intend to spend a significant portion of my life.
Of course, as RK noted, anything can happen during the next several months. He could very well turn out to be that man with whom I will spend that significant portion of my life, which would mean that I wouldn’t be moving into the guest room. But if it does end up being a guest room situation — assuming both parties are actually serious about making that a reality — I have too much furniture to cram into a bedroom and would be better off finding another housing situation (i.e., the cute little studio I want in Arlington … lol).
The second item for further discussion with RK came only moments before I found out about the non-raise situation. He called to offer me a job with a magazine he and a friend want to launch. When/if funding is obtained, it would only be a two-year job (to start), and the pay is similar to what I was making in the ‘Burgh before I left. This is not a guarantee because of the funding, but if it’s a go, I will have a lot of decisions to make — like for instance, what will come of Shan’s and my plans to start our own businesses, and how will I balance it all (because believe me, I will die trying, because our media relations firm is important to me, as is our charitable work that is crying for our attention).
At any rate, much like my 28th birthday, my 29th birthday may also bring a new job and home. It’s a lot to think about, and probably now, as I’m tanked out of my tree, this is not the best time to be doing so!
Going back to the subject of me and getting dates, CTL e-mailed a query about my availability when I travel to the homeland over Turkey Day break. IKEA Boy only wants to go for two days, and those two days are already packed, so that will be pretty much impossible. I can’t wait till Xmas break, so I can spend a significant amount of time with my dysfunctional family, instead of with my dysfunctional co-workers. 😉
Fuck. I feel like cat shit. Argh. Time to hit the Vicodin so I can get some snoozes in. Shit. There ain’t no way I am hitting the gym later today, although thanks to H.R.’s hideous announcement that we aren’t getting the raises upon which we were depending, I hit the gym that same evening and burned 800 calories in one hour. Go, moi! Then I went home, pulled on the rubber gloves, and during commercial breaks as I watched “Will and Grace” and “ER,” I did some overdue cleaning that was crying to be done, awaiting the moment when I would finally break down and realize that wishing it would get done on its own was the wrong way to effect change. Thank god I bagged that shit up and disinfected the area, ’cause I would’ve puked (let’s clarify, I would’ve puked IN THE HOUSE as opposed to in Benny’s lot, which I did at 3:30 a.m.) if I had to smell that under-the-sink garbage collection that appeared and never disappeared. Ugh. When you go to find dishwasher soap, and trash falls on your feet, you know it’s time to either go mental or remove it from sight. Maddie also benefitted, as she has a fresh, new pan-o-litter to enjoy! (What can I say, I was in a bitter enough mood to sterilize the entire house, if I’d had enough energy left after my workout at the gym. lol.) I was half-ready to nuke the bathroom with Clorox and Comet, but I was just too friggin’ through after my exhaustive day. I’ll tackle it this weekend.
Shit, I am still drunk. And hungry. But if I eat and crash, I will have nightmares, like I usually do. Maybe I’ll pop something in the microwave anyway. But will it make up for the utter sexual frustration I am having? Argh. Shan was appalled that I didn’t get some, when it was right there, waiting. LOL. Granted, I could’ve USED some, but having her in the next room with a bunch of others, well, just wasn’t conducive to the mood. That, and I knew I was restraining the dry heaves, and I knew I needed to leave … and fast. And I left just in time, trust me!!!
At any rate, I hope G3 calls. And I will be interested to hear more from RK on a professional basis, and maybe even a personal one, if he’s ready to take me on. 🙂