So when I got in at freaking 2 AM, I did the logical thing and took out my contacts and got distracted reading email on my way to bed. About 10 minutes later I said to myself... I've got to take off my contacts and get to bed... and I must really be drunk because I can't seem to get anything in focus across the room! Then I went into the bathroom and started taking out my contacts... again... except you see, there weren't any contacts in my eyes. I realized this when I put a phantom contact into the contact case that was full of solution and I thought... Hey... Wait a minute, I've already done this. Yep, I'm a champion.
Work is going to be a breeze today!
January 19, 2007
January 16, 2007
January 13, 2007
Random Flotsam and Jetsam
My big idea today was to get cracking on writing the long ago promised tale of killing my mother. As the fates have it, I did get a bite into it but not as far as I'd like to so you (my only reader) will have to just keep coming on back to see if that black cloud has slid across the screen at Fresh Hell Central.
I had a little revelation about a comment I made about randy married men hitting on me and trying to convince me that their wives are dried up and supremely lacking in sex drive. Usually these guys have wives that are pretty close to me in age. I'll tell you what... About every single woman I know who is in my age group, married or not is endlessly griping about how their fellas don't put out anywhere near enough to keep them satisfied. So I'm thinking that either these men are full of shit and just want some fresh tuna, or all the ladies I know are total freaking nymphomaniacs, myself included. So yeah, I'm throwing the gauntlet out there to all you men in your 30's and 40's. Go dig something out of your wives or lady friends if you aren't a matrimony sort! I dare you! I double dog dare you!! Hell, it's the dead of winter so we should all be getting busy like teenagers!
And for your viewing pleasure, here is a picture I took on a particularly long walk today:
To take this picture, I had to lie down in the dirt. I didn't realize how wet it was until I got up and had that moist clingy feeling on the backside of my trousers. And then the wind picked up which would help to alleviate that moist posterior situation, except that it was about 40 degrees F, so I just got a frigid ass and a groovy twilight picture out of the deal. Note to self: Walk earlier and stay out of the mud.
I decided to take pictures on my walks to record the world around me, entertain y'all, and see if I actually have an eye for pictures. That, and I just got a new camera with a 1Gig memory card. Also, every once in a while, I get inspired to take lotsa pictures. Last night I saw Born into Brothels about the children of sex workers in the red light districts of Calcutta, India. Some documentarian moved in and gave a whole mess of kids cameras and taught them about photography and some of the pictures they took were amazing. So of course, being slightly narcissistic, I've convinced myself that my pictures would be just as good as pre-adolescent Indian children of questionable lineage. Deluded?... You betcha!
I had a little revelation about a comment I made about randy married men hitting on me and trying to convince me that their wives are dried up and supremely lacking in sex drive. Usually these guys have wives that are pretty close to me in age. I'll tell you what... About every single woman I know who is in my age group, married or not is endlessly griping about how their fellas don't put out anywhere near enough to keep them satisfied. So I'm thinking that either these men are full of shit and just want some fresh tuna, or all the ladies I know are total freaking nymphomaniacs, myself included. So yeah, I'm throwing the gauntlet out there to all you men in your 30's and 40's. Go dig something out of your wives or lady friends if you aren't a matrimony sort! I dare you! I double dog dare you!! Hell, it's the dead of winter so we should all be getting busy like teenagers!
And for your viewing pleasure, here is a picture I took on a particularly long walk today:To take this picture, I had to lie down in the dirt. I didn't realize how wet it was until I got up and had that moist clingy feeling on the backside of my trousers. And then the wind picked up which would help to alleviate that moist posterior situation, except that it was about 40 degrees F, so I just got a frigid ass and a groovy twilight picture out of the deal. Note to self: Walk earlier and stay out of the mud.
I decided to take pictures on my walks to record the world around me, entertain y'all, and see if I actually have an eye for pictures. That, and I just got a new camera with a 1Gig memory card. Also, every once in a while, I get inspired to take lotsa pictures. Last night I saw Born into Brothels about the children of sex workers in the red light districts of Calcutta, India. Some documentarian moved in and gave a whole mess of kids cameras and taught them about photography and some of the pictures they took were amazing. So of course, being slightly narcissistic, I've convinced myself that my pictures would be just as good as pre-adolescent Indian children of questionable lineage. Deluded?... You betcha!
January 11, 2007
Christmas at Fresh Hell Palace
I loathe Christmas. And most things it stands for. Especially in this modern age. However, I currently reside proximal to my sister and more importantly, to my sweet little innocent 6 year old niece. As a result, Chris Mother-frickin' Kringle had his way with me. Here are the fruits of both our labors. Note that a full half of my male demons are anatomically correct. Yeah... "Blaspheme I know thy name and thy name is FRESH HELL!!!"
Holidays are over. All that crap (except of course for the devils) are sweetly tucked in storage until I'm inspired once again by the holidays... that is... my niece.
January 9, 2007
Bang Bang BANG!!!
Truth be told, I'm glad my name isn't Annie, she isn't so well representd here. In the end, I can kind of relate to this little video. The guy part, that is. You see, I'm (sadly) more of a man than most men when it comes to romance and whatnot.
There is a guy who I used to date and everything fizzled out and I didn't hear a peep from him for months. Out of the blue, he starts calling and sending me messages and whatnot. There were no hard feelings on my part because we just dated for a short while and things never got serious. Well... when we started talking again, I wanted to know what happened and why he just dissappeared. Well, guess what the big issue was? He said he was falling for me and he got scared so he tucked tail and ran. Now he wants to beg forgiveness and make it up to me so that he can win me back. How's that for throwing down with an impressive blowjob! Ha! I've still got it.
I've got comittment issues and damned good lips. Basque in my glory, y'all!
There is a guy who I used to date and everything fizzled out and I didn't hear a peep from him for months. Out of the blue, he starts calling and sending me messages and whatnot. There were no hard feelings on my part because we just dated for a short while and things never got serious. Well... when we started talking again, I wanted to know what happened and why he just dissappeared. Well, guess what the big issue was? He said he was falling for me and he got scared so he tucked tail and ran. Now he wants to beg forgiveness and make it up to me so that he can win me back. How's that for throwing down with an impressive blowjob! Ha! I've still got it.
I've got comittment issues and damned good lips. Basque in my glory, y'all!
January 6, 2007
Where do I go from here?
In case you haven't figured it out yet, I'm a geologist. When I was young and doe-eyed and looking for the right fit academically everyone went on with the old cliche that if you do what you love, the money will follow. I'm here to call bullshit on that old myth. At least in the case of geology. Which brings me to my dilemma today: What the fuck should I do about my career?
When I first started college, (at Santa Barbara City College because when I was in high school, there was no glimmer of a chance that I would be hauling my party-girl ass out of bed at 7 am on a Saturday to take the freaking SATs, so 4 year institution from the get-go was O-U-T out!) I had no idea what academic path I would pursue, but I knew it would be something in the sciences.
In high school, biology and marine biology really spoke to me so I expected I'd go down that road on some level. On the good advice of my dear friend Lulu (rip sista) I took an introductory geology class. Within two weeks, my major was declared. I must give credit to the professor (Karl Hallbach) who romanced me into a life of dirt and rocks. He was an inspiring teacher who opened my eyes to a discipline that incorporated everything that the world is made of and the way all aspects of the physical and life sciences work in concert in this fascinating world.
Half way through the semester, we had our first field trip to Death Valley and however much I'd become enamored with geology was exponentially increased. Perhaps it was the desert sunsets and breezes, perhaps it was sitting around a fire drinking liquor and telling lies. It certainly wasn't the nimrod fuck hole playing Tangerine and various freaking Eagles "hits" (yeah, hits like vicious blows to the gut) on guitar and stinky stoned white-girls with dreadlocks singing along. But I was over the desert moon drunk on cheap liquor and geology.
An aside... Have I mentioned my misanthropic tendencies? This might be why life sciences of the biology type was patently out of the question on my academic path. Hence my mantra: If it lives or ever lived, I don't really care that much.
Anyhow, I wasn't one of the folks whose parent's teats were flowing freely. Dad had died already and Mom was not a woman of great means, though very proud and supportive of me. The means to the end of my education fell down upon my own cunning to finance. So I worked and it took for-freaking-ever to finally get my bachelors degree. Which, for the record, came to pass at the tender age of 30. In the meantime, ironically, I had a career for seven years in the mental health profession (see previous paragraph).
After college, I had the incredible opportunity to work in mining, which is the holy grail for any geologist who isn't an eco-Nazi, which I am not at all one small bit. And on top of it all, mining is lucrative, fun and exciting with really bitchen heavy equipment. You can't imagine how cool it is to climb a 12 foot ladder to get into the cab of a 250 ton dump truck. As things tend to go in the mining industry, the mine closed and I was laid off. So in a desperate fit to get a job in Santa Barbara where my mother was living and dying at the time, I took a job in environmental consulting after swearing that I would never get stained green and ruin what was shaping up to be a lovely career in resource exploitation. Dammit dammit dammit!!!
Fast forwarding past a whole litany of stories from the past 5 1/2 years that are fodder for future blog submittals...
I abandoned the west coast a year and a half ago for fear that my soul wouldn't survive one more minute of California life, and transferred to an office here in beautiful Boston.
Now, professionally, I'm not so sure that I am in the right position and I have been questioning my career path for about as long as I've been in environmental consulting. And for the past year, I've felt at a crossroads. You see, as much as I still love geology, environmental consulting has little to nothing to do with pure geology and it's not even a fraction of as interesting as geology is. I'm in the unfortunate position of having to continue to pay for my education, but I've got some big harebrained ideas about what step to take next. There are a few paths that I can pursue and I can't seem to get my head around which is the right one to take.
- I can embrace the profession that I've fallen into and go to graduate school and be all I can be in environmental consulting.
- I can chuck it and go to nursing school and reduce my stress load exponentially and not have that pesky working 7 days a week situation, yet make a pretty similar salary
- I can pursue a super-fantastic business idea I've come up with and risk failing miserably and going ever deeper in debt.
- I can stay the course and tread water at my current station in life.
After this exercise of putting these thoughts out for all the world to see, I'm no closer to resolved than I was when I started writing this. But on the other hand, I'm inspired to write more entries for this fresh hell. Stay tuned kitty cats. I'll let you know what comes to pass.
When I first started college, (at Santa Barbara City College because when I was in high school, there was no glimmer of a chance that I would be hauling my party-girl ass out of bed at 7 am on a Saturday to take the freaking SATs, so 4 year institution from the get-go was O-U-T out!) I had no idea what academic path I would pursue, but I knew it would be something in the sciences.
In high school, biology and marine biology really spoke to me so I expected I'd go down that road on some level. On the good advice of my dear friend Lulu (rip sista) I took an introductory geology class. Within two weeks, my major was declared. I must give credit to the professor (Karl Hallbach) who romanced me into a life of dirt and rocks. He was an inspiring teacher who opened my eyes to a discipline that incorporated everything that the world is made of and the way all aspects of the physical and life sciences work in concert in this fascinating world.
Half way through the semester, we had our first field trip to Death Valley and however much I'd become enamored with geology was exponentially increased. Perhaps it was the desert sunsets and breezes, perhaps it was sitting around a fire drinking liquor and telling lies. It certainly wasn't the nimrod fuck hole playing Tangerine and various freaking Eagles "hits" (yeah, hits like vicious blows to the gut) on guitar and stinky stoned white-girls with dreadlocks singing along. But I was over the desert moon drunk on cheap liquor and geology.
An aside... Have I mentioned my misanthropic tendencies? This might be why life sciences of the biology type was patently out of the question on my academic path. Hence my mantra: If it lives or ever lived, I don't really care that much.
Anyhow, I wasn't one of the folks whose parent's teats were flowing freely. Dad had died already and Mom was not a woman of great means, though very proud and supportive of me. The means to the end of my education fell down upon my own cunning to finance. So I worked and it took for-freaking-ever to finally get my bachelors degree. Which, for the record, came to pass at the tender age of 30. In the meantime, ironically, I had a career for seven years in the mental health profession (see previous paragraph).
After college, I had the incredible opportunity to work in mining, which is the holy grail for any geologist who isn't an eco-Nazi, which I am not at all one small bit. And on top of it all, mining is lucrative, fun and exciting with really bitchen heavy equipment. You can't imagine how cool it is to climb a 12 foot ladder to get into the cab of a 250 ton dump truck. As things tend to go in the mining industry, the mine closed and I was laid off. So in a desperate fit to get a job in Santa Barbara where my mother was living and dying at the time, I took a job in environmental consulting after swearing that I would never get stained green and ruin what was shaping up to be a lovely career in resource exploitation. Dammit dammit dammit!!!
Fast forwarding past a whole litany of stories from the past 5 1/2 years that are fodder for future blog submittals...
I abandoned the west coast a year and a half ago for fear that my soul wouldn't survive one more minute of California life, and transferred to an office here in beautiful Boston.
Now, professionally, I'm not so sure that I am in the right position and I have been questioning my career path for about as long as I've been in environmental consulting. And for the past year, I've felt at a crossroads. You see, as much as I still love geology, environmental consulting has little to nothing to do with pure geology and it's not even a fraction of as interesting as geology is. I'm in the unfortunate position of having to continue to pay for my education, but I've got some big harebrained ideas about what step to take next. There are a few paths that I can pursue and I can't seem to get my head around which is the right one to take.
- I can embrace the profession that I've fallen into and go to graduate school and be all I can be in environmental consulting.
- I can chuck it and go to nursing school and reduce my stress load exponentially and not have that pesky working 7 days a week situation, yet make a pretty similar salary
- I can pursue a super-fantastic business idea I've come up with and risk failing miserably and going ever deeper in debt.
- I can stay the course and tread water at my current station in life.
After this exercise of putting these thoughts out for all the world to see, I'm no closer to resolved than I was when I started writing this. But on the other hand, I'm inspired to write more entries for this fresh hell. Stay tuned kitty cats. I'll let you know what comes to pass.
Receding into Obscurity
It has been a rigorous and trying week. I've been working my posterior off and not seeming to get any progress made. I'll be heading to the office shortly to carry on with it. Yeah, go ahead, look at the date. It's Saturday. There will be more of the same tomorrow.
So, dear reader, my apologies for not providing more interesting content. I still plan to rivet you with tall tales that will strike you with awe. In the meantime, I'll continue spending unimaginable amounts of hours on my arse driving a freaking computer and writing some truly uninspired words about contaminated soils, groundwater and whatnot. Once that submittal is off my desk, friends, the good times will roll.
So, dear reader, my apologies for not providing more interesting content. I still plan to rivet you with tall tales that will strike you with awe. In the meantime, I'll continue spending unimaginable amounts of hours on my arse driving a freaking computer and writing some truly uninspired words about contaminated soils, groundwater and whatnot. Once that submittal is off my desk, friends, the good times will roll.
January 2, 2007
Moments of Weakness
It was a particularly rough day at the office. I spent most of it scrambling to get things done and wishing I was being manhandled in the fun way. Distraction doesn't make for an efficient girl in the corporate world. Anyhow... I'm going to move forward with a little bit of quality time petting my cat... Clyde... fuzzy... gray stripes... whiskers... claws... paws... squeeky mewing... she's a cat you filthy bastards!! Now petting the kitty... that's a horse of another color all together my friends.
December 31, 2006
Ahhhh New Years
Work is crazy, overwhelming and all encompassing. So, I've taken the wise route of not reveling in the usual New Years hi-jinks and chosen to stay in with a bowl of popcorn and Sex in the City.
As the evening has pressed on, I decided to go ahead and live a little fancy on such a big (giggling) night. At ten o'clock, I suckled up to the fine juniper teat of some magnificent high-end gin in the pure and simple form of a martini. Still loving the holidays.
Tomorrow is a big day at the office. I'm going to have to lay my wary head to rest soon. With any luck, that will begin before tomorrow happens.
Happy New Year, Y'all!!!
As the evening has pressed on, I decided to go ahead and live a little fancy on such a big (giggling) night. At ten o'clock, I suckled up to the fine juniper teat of some magnificent high-end gin in the pure and simple form of a martini. Still loving the holidays.
Tomorrow is a big day at the office. I'm going to have to lay my wary head to rest soon. With any luck, that will begin before tomorrow happens.
Happy New Year, Y'all!!!
December 30, 2006
Two Important Points
I so couldn't give a flying rat's ass about Sadam Freaking Hussain and his execution. Isn't there something newsworthy for the media to be sensationalizing?
More importantly, my most recent guilty pleasure is Justin Timberlake. He may be bringing sexy back, but sexy never left my palace.
More importantly, my most recent guilty pleasure is Justin Timberlake. He may be bringing sexy back, but sexy never left my palace.
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