Thursday, March 30, 2006

Hi, my name is Claris, & I'm a confluence magnet.

First off, I'd like to make my required bitch about the fact that I'm still tired. Because I am. I got home at 10:30 last night, took off rowing clothes, went to bed, got up at 4:30, put on rowing clothes, went to practice, & now here I am at work. Oy. Thankfully other than the gym, there's no where to be tonight, so I might do things like...answer e-mail, and do the dishes & run laundry. Shocking, I know.
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Confluence magnet: A few days ago, Melly alerted me to the fact that dictionary.com's word of the day was "confluence". This is because I often start stories about my life with the words "in a weird confluence of events..." and then I explain how fucked up shit happens to me. ;)

But seriously, it does. Take just...getting to practice in the morning. I was ready. I was set. I packed my gym bag the night before, I had everything laid out, my shoes by the door. I literally set it up so all I had to do was roll out of bed, dress, let the dog out while I put shoes on, then pick up my bags for the day & roll on out to my car. Because yes, my life is such that I find the only way to survive at the moment is to plan my path from the bed to the door & place the appropriate props at the proper points of that journey since at 4:30 am I just won't be able to figure it out.

So I'm good, I'm rolling, everything is fine. It's that moment when I get out of my home & have to deal with the real world where everything just goes to shit. Seriously. Other people, they get up, they get in the car, they drive to the marina, it's all very boring. Me? No. I get harassed by the homeless, there are car accidents blocking the road, I have gas attendants trying to pretend I didn't pay...and today for some reason, some asshole thought it would be great to put a plumbing truck across Crescent Heights at the corner of Wilshire. What the motherfuck, that's what I wanna know. Plus, the taxi in front of me was just...sitting there, waiting for the light to turn. You know, the lights that are tripped by the sensors in the road that we can't reach because there's a truck over half the fucking street?

Then, as I'm going down to the 10/405 split...you know what, here's my thing. If you're out in LA at 5am, it's probably not a random thing. The majority of the time, this is most likely a normal part of your day that you do more than once a week. Therefore, if you drive this stretch of road every day and they've been doing construction on the 405 ramp for the last three months but you know that they only work until 5 am so the ramp is open even if they haven't turn the blinking lights off yet...don't fucking slow down! Just go, people, just go. It's all right, you won't get in trouble, trust me. Trust me. It's okay.

And it's because of crap like this that I end up late for practice even when I leave at a decent time. ::sigh:: Later on, I might talk about the rowing, but honestly? Just the drive to get to the rowing was exhausting for me, so I need to go have a bagel now.

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

I have nothing witty to put here, so this is what you get.

Due to the fact that I have eight hours a day in which I basically do...nothing, I went to the Snr. Dsgnr. & said that hey, you need help with something, let me know. (for truly, I am a kind & generous soul. Indeed) She gave me these two e-mails that she did that just needed like, text changes. Easy peasy.

When it comes to code, I'm a bit of a snob. I admit this. I'm a handcoder. The Snr. Dsngr. uses Dreamweaver Design View.

The result?

Me opening the file, looking at the work, & having a moment straight out of Bridget Jones, complete with the utterance of, "Oh. Holy. Jesus."
And I can't fix it, because if I do & she looks at it later on, she won't know how to do anything, because the code will be completely different. So I have to leave it in all of it's horrendous shoddiness. ::sigh::
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and in other exercises in patience, I cox-ed again today with the MWF group. Headed a mixed four, and I'm sure that if she gets a chance to blog today, R.S. Monkey might have a little sompin' to say about her soujourn in three seat, 'cause fuuuuuck, man. Just...I don't have words. No, wait, I've got one - fuck.
::facepalm::

Whatever. Whatever. I'm supposed to go row at LB tonight, & then with the A boat practice tomorrow, so we'll see how that goes.

In other news, I've got t minus a week & two days left at Money!Dot!Com, and I honestly think I may have to reprint interim business cards, because all of a sudden half of my co-workers have side projects they've been looking for a freelancer for. Shit guys, if I'd known that, I could have done half of them during work before I quit! *g*

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Well shit. there goes that joke.

One of the PMs dubbed a fellow employee Charlie Brown in our conversation, because this co-worker has a hairstyle that is startlingly similar to Snoopy's owner. The company's IT officer heard us use that in passing & went, "Um, would now be a good time to let you know that we have an employee named Charlie Brown in the building?"
"Bullshit."
"True story. He works in Production."
And indeed, later on, I met Charles Brown.

So yeah. We can't use that nickname anymore.

I would sell your soul for a nap.

What? I'm sure as fuck not going to sell mine - I might need it later!

Seriously, it's days like this that make me think, "Why am I in school again?" Because I have to go tonight & turn in about two weeks' worth of work thanks to the fact that my car scared the crap out of me last Tuesday, thus sending me to the mechanic instead of school. And then I have the work for my online courses to do. And I have to re-send those samples to DSpot for her site, because we found out this morning that while I sent them & thought she'd just been too busy to reply, she figured I'd been too busy to send them, and hey, how much you wanna bet that e-mail shows up in her inbox about two days after I give her the final CDs? I know, I know...easy money.

Meanwhile, because I started up at the gym again last night and followed that by practice this morning, I'm achey and sleepy. I didn't even row today - I was the coswain in a 4. Which, actually, is probably why I'm achey, because I didn't warm up my muscles & now they're all Crreeeeeeeeakeeeeee... Did you hear that? That sound like an old hinge? Yeah, that's just my entire body. The thunk was my brain.
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In other news, my car (which caused the class skippage last week) still isn't fixed. Is that due to lack of effort on my part? Oh no no, my friend, it is not. I dutifully called out sick of work last Wed. (I found out I got a new job last Tues., so you gotta figure if I haven't taken a sick day in 6 mos & I knew I was quitting Friday, that was pretty much the time) so that the mechanic could have Serenity for a full day.

And they found the problem. It was a sensor. A teensy, tiny, sensor that would cost me $200, and would require three days to arrive. Crap.

On the one hand, we knew it was an electrical problem, & they've been slowly eliminating all the things it isn't to figure out what it is, so hey! we know what it is!

On the other hand, I just want my flippin' car to work.

So my only travels for the last three days have been home-->crew-->work-->home. (Shoosh on you, crew is two miles from work.)

Yesterday, the choir of automotive angels sung in a heavenly chorus & I discovered that yes! My sensor had arrived! So I cut out of work early (what are they gonna do, fire me?) and drop my car at the mechanic.

Twenty minutes later, I get a phone call -- they've sent my mechanic the right box, but the wrong sensor in the box. ::sigh:: And so now, they have to re-order & it will be another three days. Son of a...

Which means that tonight, instead of going to school, I'm going to trundle home, because I don't feel like risking having my car stall out in the middle of the 10 E at 10pm at night. (At 4:15, we're all only going about 15 mph, no one's going to notice as long as I stay in the far right lane. 10 pm, people are doing at least 55, so it'd be a bit of a hazard, ya know?) And then I'm going to e-mail my professor about the fact that my car SUCKS. Once I've done that, I'll hoof my boo-tay down to the Grove & do about three week's worth of notes because if I stay home...well, my desk is about ten, maybe fifteen feet from my bed, and the Great Nap Temptation just might be too much for me.

Here goes nuffin'.

And for those of you counting, one of my bosses has acknowledged that I'm leaving. Of course, he did this about five hours after the agency that got me this gig called me to do an exit interview on the company because my boss had already called them by 9:30 that day to arrange for my replacement. The other boss? Yeah, she hasn't said boo. Of course, one of the PMs mysteriously disappeared today, so she could be busy with that one, since we don't entirely know if he walked or he was walked. Good times, good times here at Money!Dot!Com....

In truth, the fact that I go to the lawgeek blogs for amusement should tell you how sad my life is. Seriously, right there is commentary.

Monday, March 27, 2006

Good night, Westley. Good work. Sleep well. I'll most likely kill you in the morning.

You know, here's the thing. I'm not an attention whore. Seriously. I am, for the most part, really kind of okay with going unnoticed. But there's a difference between going unnoticed & ...well I don't know what to call it.

On Friday, I did two highly interesting (to me) things:

1. I gave notice at my job
2. I made the first step towards possibly switching boathouses, and notified both my coach & the head of the boathouse that I was doing so.

And in both cases I've heard...nuffin'. Seriously. All of my bosses were out on Friday, but they're in today. It's 10:30. I've been in the office since about 8...and yeah no. Quit? Who quit? If it wasn't for the fact that I physically handed in a letter of resignation on Friday, I'd think they were ignorant of the issue, but really? I'm doubting that.

As for the boathouse...it would seem my Coach, whose tendency to ignore the people she doesn't think are "worthy" is to just not acknowledge that she even got an e-mail at all. I know it went out, because I bcc-ed myself & R.S. Monkey so that I would know it didn't get lost in cyberspace. So far not only have I not gotten any e-mail reply, but it would seem her route to a solution is to write my name up on the board so I know what seat I'm in & otherwise pretend I don't exist. Oh, wait, no, at one point she told me to drop my oar a little more - or, I realized she meant me after she called me Katie again & I didn't answer. Hey guess what, that's still not my name, thanks.

Whatever. Tomorrow morning is A Boat practice. Getting a sentence yelled across the water as G speeds by with the San Diego crew is still more coaching than I get in three days' practice with Coach I, so hey, there's something to look forward to.

Friday, March 24, 2006

Well what the hell was I thinking when I did that?

In anticipation of the fact I gave two weeks notice today, I went through yesterday, backed up all my projects on my hard drive & cleaned it of all of my personal files. (aka, the projects that I work on after 11:30 when I've run out of work for the day)

Last night, I didn't plug my nano in to my computer, so it needs to be charged this morning, thus using the open USB port on my work hard drive.

All of my non-work files are on a flash drive.

You see my quandry. Even for me, one can only scan the internet for so long.
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I did, however, manage to give my notice. Both the Marketing Dir. & the VP of Internet Creative..whatever are out today, so I had to give it to the VP's second in command, P. Sorry P, didn't want to start your Friday like that.
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Speaking of starting a Friday like that, I did about 1250 of a 2k erg test this morning & my whole body just went, "Hey! Fuck you!" so I stopped. And honestly? I think it's because I just...don't want to do it right now. Which is horrible, and quite honestly, really fuckin' weak, but you know what? I don't want to do an erg test right now. I really don't like my sport at the moment, and I'm tired of the fact that I walk out of the boathouse either feeling stupid or frustrated. Sabrina gave me the cell number of the guy that runs Long Beach, so I think I'm going to call him today & see about checking out their club - even if I split my time between the two boathouses, I think I need to sort of break the cycle of where I am now, because I just... being in the weird limbo that I am at LRC right now does nothing for my motivation, and I'm tired of it.

Well there we go. I have an appt for 5:15 on Wednesday to go meet with the boatmaster at LB & do my first lesson for how to scull a single.

..here goes nothin'.

Thursday, March 23, 2006

Very tired. But not 'cause of the last post.

Actually the whole dang schedule got thrown out of whack thanks to my car, Serenity.
Tues afternoon, I leave Money!Dot!Com! & start for school, when Serenity just goes...apeshit. Stalling out, the temp gauge going up, but the car no overheating... ::sigh:: It's had an electrical glitch for a bit that my mechanic's been trying to find over the last month whenever I could give up the car for a Sat am or a weekday afternoon, but I'd been planning on just renting a car on Fri to give it to them for a full day & getting all this shit over with. It seems Serenity wanted to take Wed off instead.

So we did. For the first time since I started at Money!Dot!Com! six mos. ago, I called out & took a sick day. Didn't even go to practice.

Instead, I cleaned the apt a little, including putting together a couple of packages that need to be mailed out, doing some filing, and ::trumpets here:: dusting & polishing not only the furniture, but my hardwood floors. Poor Zoey. heh. And since that was done, and my desk looked SO pretty...

I spent the next six hours re-shooting my portfolio. I've needed to do it for a while anyway, and I've got most of the other things for my portfolio site re-launch done, so hey... why not. Also, I discovered that if you only want Target to develop your film & put it on CD, they'll only charge you $3.99 for the CD. Dude. Sign. Me. Up!

However, because I am a workaholic, I have about ten rolls of film. Between that & the fact it took six hours, I have decided I need to be less prolific.

Oh, and it turns out that the problem was a broken censor - they just had to figure out which one it was. Part's on order, should all be fixed Monday. I'd rather $200 for a censor than $1200 for a new transmission, so hey - sweet.

Meanwhile, since I got a call from the interview I did last week...tomorrow I'm gonna give notice at my job. Gah!

Monday, March 20, 2006

Oh...shit.

Tonight, I have to go out on the date from my bachelorette auction. Honestly, I knew that Scolio had bought tickets for tonight, but I hadn't heard back from The Boy That Bought Me, so I figured he'd decided to blow it off.
However, I just got an e-mail going, "See you at 6:45 tonight!"

Fuck. How long do hockey games last, anyway? Because with this new addition...allow me to outline my schedule from when I got up until about 10 pm tomorrow night:

Monday
4:30 am - get up
5:20 am - practice
6:20 am - work
3:00 pm - leave work
4:00 pm - refresher interview at Aquent (agencies have such junior recruiter turnover that when you're not on the rolls for a few months, you have to go re-meet all the juniors all over again.)
5:00 pm - hopefully be done & head home
5:30 pm - make self semi-presentable
6:00 pm - leave house, head to downtown
6:45 pm - meet up at TBTBM's house
7:30 pm - game
11:00 pm - done? How long does a hockey game last, anyway?
midnight - home, if I'm lucky.
- pack gym bag
- pack lunch
- maybe sleep

Tuesday
4:30 am - get up
5:20 am - A Boat practice - i.e., make best effort not to look like a fuckup.
7:30 am - call Golden
8:00 am - work
4:15 pm - leave work
4:45 pm - get to school
- do whatever homework is left over
- send out e-mails for freelance work
6:45 pm - C programming class
9:45pm - finish class
10:30 pm - get home
- pack gym bag
- pack lunch
11:30 pm - sleep

Wednesday
4:30 am - get up
5:20 am - B Boat practice which is gonna be a fucking 2k erg test!
7:45 am - work
4:15 pm - leave work
5:00 pm - gym
7:30 pm - get home

Translation: I am fuuuuuuuuuucked. that list doesn't even include all the ten million other little things that I need to get done, like stop at the bank, and remind my dog she has a mommy, and, and...sleep! ::sob!::

If my posts become increasingly incoherent between now & Wed., please see this entry as explanation. Thank you.

Okay thanks, buh-bye.

Hi my name is Claris, & I skipped out on my 2k test this morning, thank you very much.

There has been a slight disillusionment with rowing as of late in my world. And I thought it was just me, but R.S. Monkey seems to be having the same conundrum. Lemme break it down. There are three main advantages to our boathouse:

1. Racing level
Our club is pretty good. Or the A level is, anyway. They sent two boats to Head of the Charles last fall & did fairly well. So by training there, you're supposedly going to be able to get racing experience that non-collegiate rowers (like myself & R.S. Monkey) wouldn't normally get.

2. Sculling
Our club is supposed to offer sculling lessons for free. (Sculling is two oars, sweep is one.)

3. Coaching Staff
Because we have a coaching staff for each practice, you theoretically get more attention, as opposed to other clubs where you can take a boat out, but occasionally have to pay extra for a coach to watch & correct you.
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For the majority of the club, this works great. We have two groups - the people that are basically rec rowers who race occasionally, and the competitive level Masters' group.

...and then there's R.S. Monkey & I. Here's our problem - we're at a higher level than the rec rowers, but not yet good enough to hold our own with the A Level Masters' boat - mostly because we don't have enough experience. (Some of those women have been racing for ten years or more, and they're just at a higher technical level than we are.) So for us...

1. Racing level
R.S. Monkey & I aren't in a race boat right now. We aren't good enough for the A Level, & we're too young for the Club Master's boat. So we train for...what, again?

2. Sculling
I can't get a damn sculling lesson to save my fuckin' life. Nobody shows on the Monday night slot, and at this point, I think it's unfair for Coach T & I to try to keep dancing around one another's schedules (which never works), especially since every other coach gets paid extra for what is basically a private lesson, since I'm the only person that shows up. And while Coach T certainly doesn't need the money (he runs a corporate real estate company so that he can basically take off & row whenever he wants) I still feel a little bad about it.

3. Coaching Staff
Yeah. Coach I, our main coach for MWF...she doesn't talk to me. I don't know what I ever did to that woman, but yeah. Other than when I e-mailed her & asked point blank what I should be working on...my coach hasn't spoken to me on the water in about, oh, four, five weeks now? Longer? Special K offered the explanation that the reason I'm not one of the Chosen Kids is because in collegiate rowing I'd have been in Coach I's height/weight class & I pull a good time w/ less than a year's rowing, and whether she realizes it or not, Coach I probably automatically sees me as competition - especially because I don't kiss coach ass...well hey - that's pretty much not my problem. I pay you to help me train, and too dang bad.

Plus, any time I try to ask about what I should be doing, I get told about Beavis. Now, no offense to Beavis, who rowed in the Mighty Four with us this fall, but if one more person tells me that Beavis sculled a single for a year before she came over to our club & that's why she got moved up, I'm going to fucking scream. I didn't ask about her. She's not my concern, and if we're going to be really fucking petty, on the Feb erg test, I outpulled her, thanks.

Because here's the thing that R.S. Monkey & I face - we're being told that we need to improve certain skills, but not given the opportunity to do so. In fact, I'd easily state that since we switched from Head race season to sprint season, the training level in the MWF group has actually gone DOWN in quality. The A level boat does 18k practices - the B level hasn't done a full 6k since January. wtf? We were supposed to do a 2k erg on Friday at a 28. Um, I'm sorry? The boat we're in can't manage a decent 28 for two minutes - how does that train us for an 8 minute race? (Okay, in my case about 7 & change, but still) R.S. Monkey & I both pretty much decided "Fuck that, I'm not hurting myself" & we skipped on Friday. This morning, I showed up & Coach I wanted me to do the 2k test. I told her my back was sore & I showered & came into work early. Fuck that shit - I'll run a 1k tonight, see what my settle pace is, and do it Wed. - I'm not just going to toss that shit out on a whim & hurt myself, dammit. Plus, if I really wanted to be a bitch, I'm already a 2k test ahead of the rest of the club due to the fact that I went down & did the San Diego erg crash the weekend after Long Beach. Of course, since I'm not Beavis, Coach I didn't even notice when there was suddenly a completely different time set for my 2k test, so I doubt she even knows that I went to San Diego. Whatever.

So I decided something over the weekend - I could say something. But the last time I did that, Coach I took my e-mail & sent it out to every member of the coaching staff, and I don't need to be treated like a five year old, thanks. And since everyone & their brother keeps saying that I'm not good enough because I didn't scull like Beavis...Fuck it. I'm going to go to Long Beach & learn how to scull a single. Long Beach is open from 5 am to 10pm every day of the week - I figure if I scull there on Sat, Sun, & Mon. mornings, I can row with the LRC A level on Tues am., & I'll do the B level practices on W & F so that I have Thursdays off. And because rowing in L.A. is such an incestuous little social circle, I know that I don't have to tell the LRC coaching staff - considering that some of our members are board members at LB, it's gonna get back to them real fast. When G found out that Morgan was going to over to LARC any morning she didn't get water time at our boathouse, Morgan was on the water every fuckin' practice - he can't stand the idea of his crew rowing for someone else.

This morning, I saw Zenmaster H, who I know is a member of LB, so I asked her about joining. She looked a little surprised about it, so I explained that since it didn't look like I would be racing this season, I figured I might as well do something. Zenmaster H was cool about it, but then she went out & brought me back info for sweep camps that go on in NH & MA every summer, saying, "You should definitely go to camp if you want to get better." Which I know, and I was already planning on going to Craftsbury this summer...but um, what about right now? Should I just sit my ass in the boat every morning in four seat where I sit because hell will freeze over before I'm allowed to stroke again while we wait for the bow pair to learn when to drop their oar in the water? Yeah thanks no. I didn't give Zenmaster H attitude about it, don't worry R.S. Monkey, but I just sort of shrugged & said I was interested in exploring my options & seeing what other clubs could offer me.

When I was on my way out, I could hear Coach I calling my name - or, rather, what I think she thinks my damn name is. Let's be straight here - my name is not Katie, it's not Katherine. While there are other rowers in the club with those names, and yes, I was recruited for the club by someone named Katie...that is not my name. I've been here for nine months now. Call me by the right name, thanks. For that reason alone, I kept walking. However, since she was sitting behind Zenmaster H & P, who were doing their 2k tests, I suspect something was said to her about the fact I was asking about other clubs.

Oh well. If you'll excuse me, I have to go fill out the forms to apply to LBRA...

Friday, March 17, 2006

I am ten feet tall!

Or, that's how I feel, anyway. Last Friday night, I bought these shoes:


Now, I'm about 5'9", 5'10", depending on the accuracy of who's doing the measuring. These shoes are about 3 1/2" high. Which means I'm about 6, 6'1" right now.

How not used to that am I?

You gotta understand people - if left to my own devices, I would happily trundle around in my Doc Marten sandals or sneakers all day, every day. And due to that, all the things that are familiar to me take into account the fact that I'm used to always being a certain height.

Things like...

...sitting down. It turns out when there's an extra three inches between you & (sadly yes) the toilet seat in the apartment you've lived in for three years now...that throws off your balance!

...walking around. I have this double set of closet doors in my hallway. when I'm my normal height, I can walk under the top cabinet doors. In these shoes, it would seem I will crack my skull on the corner of the door if it is left open. OW.

..lifting your feet higher. No, seriously, I have to lift my feet higher to clear the ground. And I'm forced to stand up straigher if I don't want to resemble one of the shuffle-step muffin-top* hoochies that walk around on Melrose.

This "being a girl" shit is work. I'm not sure I'm down with that, but I suppose I need to work on getting the hang of it eventually, and hey, 26 is a great age to start!

Stop laughing, Anya.

*muffin-top (trans.) the girls you see who buy low rise jeans but don't know enough to buy a size or half size above what they normally wear so that they don't have a pooch of fat spilling over the top of the waistband. That one comes to us courtesy of Special K - where she got it from, I do not know.
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Oh, and... I think I may have done well on my interview yesterday. Should know by Wed. Eep!

ETA: Before anyone asks...yes, that is indeed a half-chewed rawhide bone in the bottom left of that picture. What can I say, Zoey needs to put herself into everything..

Thursday, March 16, 2006

Can this week be over now?

The bad: The accountant that Neighbor Beth rec'd to me as being utterly fantabulous at making anyone with a freelance aspect to their income never have to pay taxes is fully booked. (Yes, I waited until March to call an accountant. I'm an idiot.)
The good: Said accountant followed that up with, "Of course, if you want to just file an extension & wait until May, we can do it then..."
::ponder:: Hey, it's no harm no foul, sure.
and then he gave me instructions on what to fax over to him so his office could do it for me. What? An accountant in LA doesn't have a dime of my money & is willing to file my extension for me? Now I see why Beth says he's the best. Come May 1st, I'm calling Larry back, that's fo'sho...

The bad: the left headphone for my Nano keeps cutting out. I have to buy new heaphones.
The good: New headphones!

The bad: I am in no way prepared for tomorrow's erg test.
The good: I already e-mailed R.S. Monkey & told her I wouldn't be there, so I won't accrue a cox-ing penalty. I intend to spend the night doing all the things in my house that need to be done, & possibly taking my dog for a walk. Because she will like that. (the dog, that is. Not R.S. Monkey)

In half an hour, I'm going to leave work & go do a second interview. Wish me luck, kids.

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

This is one of "Those Days", isn't it?

This morning, I shot up straight from the pillows. I could hear birds, I could see some sun. FUCK.

In terms of crew, this meant I'd slept throught practice. I lunged for my cell phone, wondering why I hadn't heard it to off at 4:15 am.

It was 4:11 am. Hey guess what - spring is here, we get sunlight earlier. Fuckin' spring.
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Okay. Okay okay - for once I'm up, I'm actually ahead of schedule. Which is good, because I need to go get gas. Say buh-bye to the dog, go to the car, go to the gas station.

Put six dollars in the little cash kiosk thingy, put in that I want to use #1. Beautiful. I'm gonna be early for once.

Hyper druggie guy walking by : "Got change?"
"No."

Try to pump gas - nothin'. Acc to the girl inside, I never put any money in.
::blinks:: what? No, I put six dollars in.
Well, that's not what my machine says, so how do I know you did it?
Because of the big bulletproof window you were watching me out of when I did it! You saw me put money in the machine!
Hyper Druggie Guy : Hey, I think it works now, just use your card, lady!
::repeat variations of this for a few minutes::
You - Get the fuck away from me. You - either give me back six dollars or give me six dollars in gas.
I don't know that you paid. You have to pay me to get gas.
What is your manager's name?
Excuse me?
I'm going to pay you cash right now, but I will be back later this afternoon. Therefore, I want the owner's name so I know who to ask for when I come back to complain about the fact that you're harassing me. It's 5 am. I am not high, I am not scamming you. Your machine just took my money, and you are giving me a hard time when I saw you watch me put the money in it. And I know you weren't watching any other customers, because there aren't any other customers. So I'm going to give you ten dollars, you're going to give me the owner's damn name, and I'm going to be late to practice, which means I'm going to have to ride the fucking launch. Are we clear?
HDG: Hey lady, just use the machine & give me the cash.
If you don't get the fuck away from me, I will kill you with my bare hands.

::pump gas::

I start to pull out, & the girl in the booth is all waving at me. What? The gas nozzle is no longer connected to my vehicle, and I know I put the gas cap back on. Oh no no, my friends. She beckons me back to the booth and hands me six dollars.

On the one hand - hey, I got my six bucks back.
On the other - we couldn't have gotten to that point ten minutes ago? wtf?

And yes, I was late for practice, and since Coach T was running things today, I was able to just erg instead of riding the launch, so I could get to work early, which is fine because I'm leaving early. I had an interview in Encino, but I thought about it, and honestly - I really don't want to have to drive to Encino every day from Marina Del Rey. So I sent an e-mail politely cancelling the interview & explaining why (in LA, fear of commute actually is a viable reason for turning down a job that no one will blame you for), but adding that if they would ever like offsite freelancing done, by all means call me, rah rah rah. However, since I was already slated to leave early, and I got here early... Fuck yes, I'm leaving early, thanks.

Oh, and before anyone asks, the reason I sent an e-mail instead of calling is because, as I explained to the interviewer in the e-mail, it would appear that I left my cell phone at home. Because I'm spectacular that way. (Don't worry Melly, I left the spectacular part out from my e-mail)

It's 9am & I already want a nap. No. Fair.

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

I want a do-over.

I did the work. I totally did the work. and yet...not so much with the something to show for it.

#1
My C programming teacher requires all assignments be turned in on 3 1/2 floppies. (no, seriously) However, my computer at work doesn't even have a floppy slot anymore. So I very deliberately went out, bought a couple floppies & a little hard case for them, & placed it in my backpack last night. Then today, I did the work on my flash drive on my lunch, & trundled to school to transfer the files to my floppies.

Which I could not find. Anywhere.Upon arriving home, I can verify that I didn't even make the dumbass mistake of leaving them on my desk. ::sigh::
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#2
I updated the back end section of votd's password protected site - however, because my work doesn't allow for ftp access, I have to bring the pages in on a flash drive, do the changes, then upload them when I get home. Well, today I wanted to charge my nano while I was goofing off doing freelance work, so I copied the folder to my desktop.
I have just discovered that I forgot to transfer the files back.

Why? Because I'm a feckin' eejit, that's why.

However, my life still isn't as bad as the one that I overheard talking on her cell phone as I walked across campus tonight :

You know, first you tell me in the hospital that you wish I wasn't your daughter because you liked the other girl better, and now you're starting this with me?

And I thought I had problems. Ah, Los Angeles - always there in the clinch to remind you that there's always someone weirder.

Monday, March 13, 2006

Bitch, I'm so good I am gangsta.

I have decided that rowing on the square is a special kind of hell when you're in a boat where everyone isn't down with the plan. Indeedy it is.
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I went through my house this weekend & did what is becoming a monthly occurance - cleaning which can be classified as the "up & out" sort. I ditched about six brown bags at Out of the Closet, and then I just... kept going. Returned some stuff that I bought that was too big, dropped off my knee boots to be re-soled, picked up my hiking boots (::hug hiking boots!::), and just...did. I made a Wal-Mart run (yes, I shop at Wal-Mart), got a crapload of stuff, cleaned everything, washed everything (even the dog!)

Really, in terms of my apt needs, the only major thing that I think I need at the moment are decent shelves for my office - I like the tilt-ey ones:


But I don't want them in black - my desk & the trunk I have to go with it are a lovely deep red cherry, which while being the aforementioned lovely, is also kind of hard to match. ::sigh:: so the search continues.

On the other hand, I could get this from Staples:


But they also have one that's a tilt-ey shelf which has a filing drawer at the bottom - the upside of that being I get everything into one unit, & I can put...other stuff in my trunk. BUT it's only in black in the store.

Quandry.
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The other scary thing about this week being that I have three interviews - One phone interview tomorrow morning, one in-person first interview on Wed. afternoon, & another in-person on Thurs. afternoon. It's a freakin' whirlwind, dude. I would have had four, but the one for this afternoon happened to have a scheduling conflict which is fine with me, so we re-sched. for next Monday, and I'm going to stay late tonight so that I can bug out early on Wed afternoon. (Thurs. mornings I have no practice, so I can come in early & leave early, thankfully.) While I'm sure my present boss has lovely intentions of how she'd like her department to be run, I have a small problem with my job as a designer/programmer being described to me as a "service industry role", so any chance there was of me sticking around evaporated the moment she used that as a reason why I shouldn't question what's being done with the advertising. Thankfully, by the time that little gem was given to me on Friday morning, I'd already done two interviews in the 24 hours beforehand - and two of the interviews I'm doing before Thurs are follow-ups for those.

On the one hand, in terms of response turnaround from potential employers -
Damn, it's good to be a gangsta.

On the other, in terms of managing to work all these interviews in and still maintain normal hours at the job I need to keep until I get a new one, it would seem that indeeed -
It's hard to be a pimp.

Word.

Sunday, March 12, 2006

you little shit!

For a long time, I threatened that was going to be the name I registered Zoey with in the AKC Registry. Why?

Case in point:

Walked down to Barnes & Nobles with Special K tonight. While I was there, I bought a sugar cookie, tucked it in my backpack, and we walked home.

Get home, help Special K put the stuff she'd bought at Target earlier in her car, bundle her off, walk into my house to find...

Zoey. Two feet from my backpack.

and the white bag with my sugar cookie on the floor next to her.

Yeah. Guess who's in the corner right now? Indeedy.

Thursday, March 09, 2006

Note to self: No one gets me.

So last night I let my neighbor Sue do a reading on me -- since Sue is a Reiki Master who does the entire spectrum of psychic phenomenon and I am the beacon of cosmic fun that I seem to be, it was...interesting.

But I think the high point was when we were talking about what I wanted to do with my gifts.

Sue: and right now, you're at a point where you're just...accepting awareness of who & what you are. As you figure out what you'd like to do with what's been given to you, your gifts will become stronger than they are now.
Claris: Greeeaaat.
Sue: do you have any idea of what you might want to use this for?*
Claris: I'm going to become telekenetic & RULE THE WORLD WITH AN IRON FIST! ::bang fist on table for effect::

::silence::

Claris: ...I'm kidding.
Sue: Oh...that's good, because really, I was going to say that from I can see, your gifts are more in the way of healing. Though you are fairly good with weapons, aren't you?
Claris: Yeah, I get that alot.
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*yes, I have flashbacks to the high school guidance counselor's office at times during this whole process, but as long as I don't have to re-take the SAT....

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

Not sure what I'm looking for...I'll know it when I see you...

Practice today was fun, but kinda weird. I rowed in the BigKids' practice, but a four, not the racing boat. (Which I'm so totally fine with, trust me) but our stroke was Coach L, who first taught R.S. Monkey & I to row. She's since retired from coaching, but still rows with the development level practices. I think a part of me was still a little amused by having her in the boat with us. heh.
We also used the old oars, which have a thicker tactile foam on the handles...my hands are finally used to the new C2 oars, so going back to the old Croakers meant that I got all new friction burn blisters from the old ones. As I said to Sab afterwards when I was snipping them open (yes, it's best just to take a pair of nail clippers, snip it open to drain it, slap on some Neosporin & a Band Aid & move on - never let anyone tell you anything different), you know you're a rower when you open up a blister, take a moment to consider it, & think, "Wow, that's a really good one." She laughed & agreed that the worst part is that you're proud of it, because no one else but a rower would laugh at it with you. Sad, but true.
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I was supposed to have an interview today, but due to the high amt. of DayQuil I'm on right now, I think I'm going to call & post pone until tomorrow so that I'll be able to communicate in a semi-cognizant fashion. Plus, it gives me the extra hour or two that I'll need to put my portfolio in order & update everything. I actually need to just buy a new book & start over, but that's another project for another day....
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Speaking of buying things, I got a letter yesterday from my bank. In my continuing effort to have a less chaotic life, I went to my bank last Sept & put down a small (very small) sum on a secured credit card - the kind where they hold the deposit against your card for a year, rah rah rah...I'm attempting to rectify the damage done by my car loan co. from when I closed out the loan & paid for the dang car. (Don't ask. Whole thing) Anyway, so I'd set up a weekely payment of $25 to go automatically so that it showed a steady stream of regulated payments...turns out that that also improved my record with the bank -- the letter said they're doubling my credit limit on the card & releasing my deposit six mos. early. Sweeeeeeeet... not that I'll be using the card any more than I do now, but I think half my deposit is going in my ING acct, & the other will be buying me a flat screen monitor so I can reclaim a good amt. of deskspace back. Anya, I hereby say...go shopping!

We'll see. Considering the hassle I went through to get the damn thing initialized in the first place, I figure my deposit should show up around like, May. Or maybe August. And before anyone asks why I don't just switch banks, the answer is because my bank keeps buying everyone else, so why go through the hassle of switching to someone else if they're just going to get bought & I'll be with my old bank again.
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G gave me the A Boat off the water workouts today - and, in a sad commentary on L.A. traffic, I got permission to go to the boathouse on Thurs mornings & erg. Why would I go to the boathouse on a day that I won't be on the water? Because I work about 2.5 miles from the boathouse, and it's actually more efficient to get up & go to the boathouse for 5:20 & erg there than to go to my gym which is 1.5 miles from my house, erg there, and then have to fight L.A. traffic to get to work - the same trip that takes me 20, 25 min at 5 am will take me almost an hour at 7:15.

Also, I'm glad the oscars are over because Sunday night those helicopters were annoying as all hell.

music: Love Song For No One(John Mayer)

Monday, March 06, 2006

When Daddy sings he's an auctioneer, auctioneer....

In other news, I finished a piece for the first time in a long time last night:

The Other Girls Wore Wings, finished 03.06.06

I started that on Friday night (which is why I didn't make the Sat 7:30 practice, R.S. Monkey - up 'til 3:30 am), and ended up finishing last night...and when you look up & it's 12:30, and you've got practice at 5:20, you gotta figure you might as well just stay up, so...I did. Set up the gym bag for today, made some food for the week, yadda yadda. I said to Meg elsewhere that sadly, I feel more awake now than I have for a long time. I think I might actually function better with less sleep. Sick, I know.
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In other news, R.S. Monkey might be amused to know that I finally had a race and was sore the day after -- I ended up rowing as a sub with our club's A Boat on Sunday. Normally, at our level, we've been working with rowing a 2k at a 26 - 28 and for our group, that's been a pusher lately. (don't get me started on that.) Plus, the only time I've done a sprint start was on an erg. Even when we raced The Mighty Four, I think the highest cadence we did ever was a 24/26 for 5k... I show up on Sunday, and I'm in a boat that's not only going to be doing a sprint start, but we'll be rowing a 28/30 for the whole 5k. Fuck.

I did okay, from what I was told later - the nice thing about ZenMaster H & DSpot is that if I'd sucked, they would have told me, but they both said I did fine, esp. since it was my first time at that level even as a practice race. . When we did the LB erg crashes, I finished a race I thought I'd totally blown, got up off my erg, walked to my car & drove off. Didn't hurt a bit. (I found out from R.S. Monkey later that what I thought I'd screwed up was actually only about 1 second slower than Beavis) When I did San Diego crashes a week later, I pulled a time with a 3 second total time drop & a 1.54 avg split, got up, and went to row on the erg at an 18 for another 10 minutes to cool down, had absolutely no problems, did practice the next morning. It's not the power or the endurance that was killing me yesterday -- it's the speed. And maintaining the speed. We've been training for 2k pieces, so hey, that's how long I've been training myself to hold a higher cadence...so I was good until about 3k in, and then my arms went, "Fuck you and your horse!" and those last 2k were a total bitch.

Then we get to the end, and to make G happy, do a practice sprint start...Lemme 'splain. On the erg, the highest sprint start I have done where I still had decent control was a 32/34, and then I settled at a 26/28 for 2k - that was the San Diego run about three weeks ago. Yesterday? We sprinted a high 41/43 and settled at a 35 for a few strokes. Mother of fuck. In short -- I'll be doing some speed training on the erg, thanks.

Oddly enough, even with that and doing practice this morning, the only thing that hurts is that my left shoulder is a little sore. and I had two new blisters on my left hand, but that's because Beavis is a splasher & the new Croaker oars don't soak up any water, so I had to grip harder than usual. ::shrug::

Sculling Tonight! Woot!
If this keeps up, you late joiners are going to see where the title of this blog comes from...

Note: the numbers above are for how many strokes per minute. Take a minute of your day, see how many times you can shove your hands out from your chest and pull them back in over the course of a minute. Now do it and imagine you're flipping one wrist to turn an oar flat and then square for the same amt. of iterations as when you just did it normally. now imagine doing that many iterations and moving your legs at the same time, but being able to control the momentum so that it takes 3 times as long to go forward as it did to shove yourself back. And do it 41 times. In 60 seconds. Yah. Hence the initial reaction of "are you shitting me?" that both R.S. Monkey & I had at different points over the weekend.

music: Did I Fool Ya?(Jason Mraz)