The Coffee Pot

There are three reasons why I wake up each and every morning. Without these three things, I really couldn't see the point of getting out of bed.
They are, in no particular order . . .

1. Alan (he makes me work if I want to buy pretty things)
2. My job (I love it)
3. Coffee (it is the sweet nectar of life for me, without it I don't function well)

The first day at my present job, I knew I would stay forever. For one reason and one reason only. They brew coffee. All day.
So I stopped making my own at home so that I could sit around with everyone and have a couple of cups and chit chat about nothing important for thirty minutes until we realize we all have work to do.
Only now, the coffee pot is broken. For some reason it takes 45 minutes to brew a pot. And it only brews 8 cups when it is suppose to be producing 12.
You know what that means. I go till 8:45 without coffee. Without the nectar. I can't take it.
I could go back to making my own at home. But, well, I'd rather bitch about the work coffee pot.
The good news.
The coffee problem has finally come to the attention of my boss.
We are getting a new and improved coffee machine for Christmas.
YEAH!!!!

Blogiversary

Tomorrow is my one year blogiversary.
To reminisce, cause that is what I do during the holidays, with everything, I went back to my very first post.
Wow.
So different.

THINGS THAT HAVE CHANGED IN THE PAST YEAR:

1. Career. From retail to law. Huge difference!
2. Friends. Sadly I have lost a couple and gained a few.
3. Marriage. We had some major breakthroughs.
4. Priorities. You don't need to know all of those.
5. Hair. Got a new do last winter and I love it.

THINGS THAT HAVE REMAINED EVER CONSTANT:

1. Obsession with weight.
2. My family's inability to get along.

I have arrived

This will be mine and Hubby's fifth Thanksgiving together. And this year, this year alone, is the year I truly feel accepted to the Shearer family. A honest to God, no doubt about it, we love you and it wouldn't be a holiday without you, part of the family.
I'll tell you why.
I got to make not one, but TWO dishes to bring to dinner this afternoon. Me. The newly accepted. Was trusted with TWO important Thanksgiving ritual foods.
The cream corn. (Thank you Cindy Skinner for your most awesome family cookbook and which I found the most perfect recipe - Granny's Cream Corn)
and, The green bean casserole.
Plus! They asked me to bring the bread.

I have arrived.


(I am so freakin nervous)

Sexy Suburbanite's request . . .

This is just to say

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

I couldn’t resist

Hubby and I got a new camera, hence all the pictures. Please, bear with me till the newness wears off!
This is Heather, Brett and their oh so cute four month old, Zachary.
I'm his aunt Mim. :)
I love him so much.

Grapes

I'm eating grapes at my desk this morning.
And all I can think about is my sophomore year in college.
My roommate and I took an American Literature class together.
It was the best.
We got to review a ton of poems and short stories that were all interesting. Well, most of them at least.
But this one poem stuck with us. It is about plums being in the icebox and being eaten by the person they were not intended for and that person is apologizing.
For some strange reason we got the biggest kick out of this poem.
Who wrote it?
Where they mad about their plums being gone?
What happened next?
Who leaves a note like that?
We had all sorts of questions concerning this poem.
When we moved to an apartment our junior year we started freezing grapes to have all the time. One day I came home and there on the fridge door was the poem. Nicely typed up with no signature.
And in the freezer. No grapes.

I miss you ladie!

Surprise Party

Last weekend was great. Shana, one of the best ladies to ever roam the earth, told me about this surprise party that was happening for a girl I had not seen in like two years. I had to go. Had to.
And oh how fun it was. Hubby drove us. Which is good. Because the guy Loni, birthday girl, married is from India and it is his custom to fill up any glass that may be half full. ALL NIGHT. I can't even tell you how many glasses of wine I had because it was never really empty.
Anyhoo, Loni looked great. She knew there was gonna be a surprise party for her but she did not know that Shana and I would be there. We were a success.

Shooting Stars

Ok. I'm 25. And I have NEVER seen a shooting star.
Until now.
I was walking yesterday morning (seriously, I am so fat right now and have to do something, don't say anything, I am, I have lost the same 10 pounds four times!!) and I saw a shooting star as I rounded the corner at my halfway point.
Then this morning, I saw another one as soon as I got out of my parking lot!
That's a good sign right?

Maybe because it's fall

I feel so out of place lately. Like nothing makes sense to me.
I don't belong where I am.
My life is not actually the life I am suppose to be living.
I have answers for nothing.
And questions for everything.
I feel an overwhelming sense of panic when I think about the future, because I can't see my future. For the first time in my life I can't picture myself older, doing things. I can't see past Christmas. I draw a huge blank. Is that some kind of warning?
I want to just live. Be happy with the life I have.
Honestly, I have nothing to complain about. My blessings have been many. Especially this year.
But this feeling of impending doom shadows me. It won't go away.
All I want to do is lay in bed and cry until my body is numb with emotion. Then maybe I will have found my way out of this . . .this feeling.

The birthday party pictures . . .

My wacky mom. She will hate me for this of course.

My dad, Derrell. Can't you tell how excited he is about his birthday?

Hubby and me.

My sisters.

My nephew Stephen.

My nephew Zach.

Self Checkout

"Shit, we don't have any ice cream."
"I'll go get it. The little cup size ones?"
"Ya."

I couldn't grab my purse fast enough. Probably should have asked Stephanie if she wanted to go with me. Or at least Alan. He sometimes isn't comfortable when I leave him alone with the family. Screw it. I need to be by myself. I need to calm down before she gets here. She has managed to piss me off before I even see her. That may be a new record.

"Hurry up pokey. How freakin long does it take to get out of a parking space?"

Don't cry. Keep it in. It will do you no good now. She's never gonna change. She has had so many chances. But it's like she lives to hurt, Mom. To drive that wedge between us all. Make us miserable. She can't do anything to try and help the situation. Not even show some respect to the rest of the family and show up for a birthday lunch on time. No, she has to be an hour and half late. FUCK!

"Excuse me, Where do I find the sweet n' low?"
"Aisle ten ma'am."
"Thank you."

How many freakin times have I had to tell myself to stop thinking about this. Stop agonizing over how hurt Mom must be. She is obviously going to keep inviting her over and keep trying to reach out to her. And she is obviously going to keep shitting on her. I have to keep my mouth shut today. I CAN NOT say anything to her. A. It wouldn't faze her a damn bit. B. She wouldn't listen and somehow would turn out to be the victim. C. The damage is done. What is me saying anything going to help? Nothing. God, it hurts. It hurts so much to feel like this. To watch my family seemingly crumble. We used to be so close. Laughter surrounded us. That free laughter. Not the tight, uncomfortable, there is something wrong but we should laugh to cover it up and maybe nobody will mention it kind of laugh like we do now. Does only hate remain? Is that it for our family?

"Please scan your first item now."

Do I need this book? Yes. I'll just get whatever I grabbed. I need the sweet n' low because we don't used regular sugar in our coffee and Mom never has anything else. I came for the ice cream. We are always forgetting our toothpaste, so we will leave this one here. It won't be to much.

"Your total is $20.28."

Ok. I'm gonna go back. I'm gonna put on the happy face. I am NOT going to think about how inconsiderate and hateful she is. I am just going to enjoy being with my family.

All My Children

Ok. Hope this works.

YOU SUCK!

Why must you take money that is not yours?
Why?
Why must you make semi-poor people have anxiety attacks by taking away their money and charging them bogus fees?
Why must you not actually deposit funds that person has given to your establishment to deposit when you say your going to, thus creating negative amounts in one's account and kicking in the overdraft protection?
Why must you be such incompentant a-holes everytime I call for information concerning MY money?
I hate my bank.
Of course, I am pretty sure I'm gonna hate any bank.

Happy HNT!

Why should I care?

It has come to my attention that a certain somebody I work with submits an inaccurate number of hours each pay day. This somebody puts down when she is suppose to be here, regardless, if she was or not.
There are about 72 hours a year she gets paid for when she was in fact, not present. Doesn't sound like a lot? That is $504.00 a year. That's an insurance payment, car payment, groceries for two months, etc.
And really, if I have to be truthful, that is not the big thing that bothers me. It is the fact that she consistently lies. That's no good.
I have the biggest problem with liars.
But I have to shut my (big) mouth. Smile at her. And choke on her deceptive aura.
The sad part - she is my friend. I really like her. But knowing this makes me . . . well, it makes me not want to be her friend.
So my question.
Why should I care?
How do I get past this fact since my boss is obviously ok with the situation. (Yes, he is most certainly aware)