I just watched "Big Fish" again.  Caron had never seen it before.  He enjoyed it, but said it was emotionally draining.  I agree.  So, it's been awhile since I've last blogged.  I'd say that I'm sorry, but I'm feeling just a bit guilty...that's all.  Guilt rather than sorrow.  There's my life with my parents, in a nutshell.  Here's the latest update, everyone's healthy, I still have the excellent job, Caron made it through his fall semester with good grades (although he doesn't think so...typical), things are still going well between Caron and I, and between Leo and his fiance, they've chosen a wedding day, cats are still healthy, I think.  I'm not sure what else is in store here.  Caron has been talking more seriously about getting married (to me, that is).  It's been quite a surprise for me, because as of a few months ago, I didn't think that he'd ever want to get married.  So, I worked on not wanting to be married.  And then he goes and changes his mind.  Men.  I'm not sure what other comment could be more appropriate.

Here's a new story for you.  In 1997, I graduated from college (don't get all wrapped up in figuring out how old I am, I didn't go right from high school to college).  That summer, I gave my friend Mort a ride up north to the trailhead of a famous walking trail.  It was in a way out place, far from even a small town.  We couldn't drive to the trailhead, we had to park the car at the end of a semi-private dirt road and walk up.  I wanted to see him off at the trailhead, so I walked up the dirtroad with him.  It was a big mistake.  We had no problems walking up the road.  I gave him a hug and watched him walk off into the distance, down into the forest.  Then I turned and walked back down the dirt road.  About a mile down the road, with a mile more to go, I came upon four houses side-by-side.  There was nothing interesting or significant about them, and earlier we had passed them with no notice.  But on my way back, there were three large agressive dogs waiting for me to pass by.  At first, I had no fear, they were just barking and trying to get close to me.  I talked to them friendly like, until it was apparent that no one from the houses was going to come out, and that the dogs were not going to let me pass.  I bent down quickly to pick up some rocks and one of the barking dogs ran at me, snapping.  I jumped up and charged him, yelling and screaming at him.  He began a quick retreat and then I started throwing the few rocks that I could grab.  I grew up around horses and other agressive farm animals.  I knew how to intimidate domesticated animals.  The three dogs started to circle me, looking for a way to get behind me and rush me when I wasn't looking.  I made my way slowly over to a large branch that had fallen in the road and picked it up, again getting charged by the dogs.  They were getting bolder and two charged me the second time.  I quickly swung the branch at them and warded them off.  Then I slowly backed my way down the road, always keeping all three dogs in sight.  They followed me for a while down the road, but then eventually realized that I wasn't going to run, or put down the large branch and that they weren't going to get a piece of me.  It's a good thing that I didn't try to run, and that I did know how to be agressive, because otherwise, I could have been killed.  How's that for a nice cheery story on the first weekend of the new year?  That Big Fish movie got me thinking about all the stories that I have in my life.  I've got to get writing again.  But it's not going to happen anytime soon...I'm going to take an accounting course for my job.  Three credits in five months.  Oh.  Joy.

Yesterday Caron and I went to one of the large chain bookstores in town to hang out in their cafe and read/study.  I read The Dark Tower by Steven King and Caron studied his statistics homework.  I took a restroom break and encountered something there that was quite funny.  As I walked in, I heard a mother and very young child (probably 1 1/2-2 years old) in the large handicapped stall.  As I sat in one of the other stalls, I heard the child ask her mommy, "Mommy go poop?"  And the mommy answered, "No," in a patient voice.  Then the child repeated, "Mommy go poop?"  And mommy said, "No," once again in the most patient voice.  Well, that wasn't the funny part, really.   What was truly funny was that the child continued to ask, "Mommy go poop?" repeatedly, and the mommy would repeatedly answer in the most patient voice, "No."  After about the 13th time that this question-and-answer was repeated, I had to hold my hands over my mouth, struggling not to laugh out loud.  When I got back to the cafe and told Caron what I had just heard, his answer to me was, "Belinda go poop?"  And I said, "Yes, dear," in my most patient voice.  Of course, he couldn't just let this lie there.  He had to repeat this several times since then.  So now both of us will just randomly ask each other, "Caron go poop?" or "Belinda go poop?"  And each time, the other will answer, "Yes, dear."  Yes, folks.  We're mature.

I've been invited to a new friend's house this coming week after work.  She lives in the city and is having a few friends over to celebrate a house-warming event (actually, it's an apartment-warming event, whatever).  She just happens to be black, or as the phrase goes "African-American."  I've never been to her house, it'll be dark when I get there, and it's in the city (which can be precarious with parking/safety issues).  Caron says, "Don't worry, you'll find it. Just put your head out the car window every so often and sniff the air for fried chicken."  Then he sniffs repeatedly and says, "Mmmmm, fried chicken. I must be close."  Yeah, we're not so politically correct.

It's Veteran's Day and I actually had the day off from work.  Can you dig it?  I'm going to get so used to this luxury.  It definitely helps offset the waking up early part.  Actually, it's been nice to arrive to work on time.  I almost never did that at the last job.  I'm also beginning to see the fruit of my work on the local news, too.  It's sort of wierd.  Something that I've edited gets reported on by the local media.  Sort of strange.  I've been spending way too much money (credit-card money) on clothes for the new job.  It sucks, but I've never had to wear suits everyday to work.  I have a grey suit and a black one and a few mix and match thingeys, but I've got to branch out into the beiges, blues, burgundies, etc.  I just bought a long black winter coat today, one that will look presentable over a suit.  And the stuff that people talk about at this place...it's very political (the men) and beauty focused (the women).  I don't really fit into that stuff.  When asked who I supported in the election, I panicked and said something to the effect that I voted my conscience.  When asked for my beauty secrets, I said I had none.  Yeah, I'm the nerd in the crowd yet again.

Otherwise things are cool.  I'm writing my Asha story again.  Also, I've been reading the last book of The Dark Tower.  Leo is doing well.  Working hard, making money.  Caron is doing well.  Working hard, but he seems to be balancing his work load better this semester.

I just took this "fun" little test called "What's Your Vibe?" through:

http://web.tickle.com/tests/

Here's my results:

On Saturday afternoon, Leo, Caron and I went to a nearby diner for lunch. Leo built a small pyramid of 10 creamers, a large rectangular syrup container and a small rectangular jelly container. He was so proud of his architectural achievement that he took a picture of it with his camera phone. I didn't mind...it kept him occupied. It was either that or let him eat sugar straight out of the sugar packets.

We had our fourth soccer game yesterday morning. Leo showed up and helped Joe and I coach during the game. It was so helpful having Leo there, even though we lost again (5-1). Hey, at least our team scored one goal. That's better than nothing. And the kids are getting so much better with their skills. I'm so proud of them.

I spent WAY too much time talking with my mother today. She tried to talk me into putting forth too much effort toward getting rich. Now I'm sure that every parent wants their child to be financially secure, but she wants me to do something that SHE actually would like to do...yet she doesn't want to expend HER energy and HER time to do it. She's retired, for Pete's sake, why doesn't she just use her own free time to work at this scheme in her own sweet time? Because she'd rather that I do the work.

I told her, "No game, it's not gonna' happen." And then I explained at length why it would be a really stupid idea for me to even begin the process. No freakin' way am I going to spend any of my precious free time chasing after a few extra bucks without some direct guarantee of a ROI. No freakin' way, dude.

So the computer goes "bong!" and Caron goes "fuck you!" This has been happening, repeatedly, for nearly ten minutes now. I haven't said anything, because if I do, I may be on the receiving end of one of those "fuck you!"'s. "Bong!" "Fuck you!" "Bong!" "Fuck you!" It's all good.

I have been talking like the Incredible Hulk for a few moments because of the desk chair. It is naughty. Very naughty. It keeps getting caught on the innocent little chair mat and then it won't roll close enough to the desk for my liking. And I get pissy. So I was manhandling the chair and making unhappy sounds and Caron says, "Are we having a problem?"

See there? His computer bongs and he curses and I know better than to say anything. But when I start strangling the desk chair and making hog wart-like noises to express my displeasure, well then...we must comment, it seems.

So I say, "CHAIR NAUGHTY!!" in my best booming, Hulk-like voice (small pause in conversation and then) "HULK SMASH!!" (another small pause and then we both crack up).

Of course, at that point, I must go visit the Hulk's Diary That Is On The Internet (http://incrediblehulk.blogspot.com/).  On October 5th, Hulk decides that there must be some green political states.  I disagree.  I feel that the republican states should be a navy power-suit blue and the democrat states should be a liberal paisley-mixed color.  Then Caron decided that the gay states should be rainbow-filled, and I say that the red-neck states should all be filled with the Down-Home Dixie flag.

Oh yeah, and today was my last day at my old job. I'm sad to leave my work husband (Mark). Boy, if he wasn't married and I wasn't married (okay, so I'm not all legal-like married, but it looks like that from the outside and from my inside, too), I'd fuck him in a heartbeat. Yessir, it's true confessions time.

Actually, I really, really, really, really, really, etc. enjoy Caron's body and the way that it makes me feel. Not to mention all the other good stuff about him, too. So I guess that my little fantasy about Mark is just that...fantasy fodder.

I've put my courtesy "two-week" notice in at both of my jobs (yes, folks, I was working two different jobs). Tomorrow night is the LAST TIME that I work my night job!! In the two and a half years that I've worked that second job, this will be the first time that I'm looking forward to going there. Wednesday will be the last time that I officially work for my day job. I'd like to take that entire day off, but I've got loose ends to tie up before I can leave. I wouldn't feel right about just tanking them that day. However, I will leave early that day.

I start my new job on Thursday. I've been nothing but a ball of wriggly squishy nerves since the day I accepted my new job. I've been alternately happy, depressed, excited, worried, angry, anxious, scared, confident, and satisfied. My menstrual cycle has never done such a number on me than this new job has over the last week and a half. (Yes, I know that you're thrilled to know that. You're welcome.)

I know that my mental state will not calm down until I start the new job and get into a routine. At this point, so many things are up in the air. I'm not sure how I'll get to work every day (city bus? my car? free shuttle?). I'm not really certain of the dress code (suits everyday? occasional chinos? skirts more than once a week?). I don't know exactly what I'll be working on (no guesses here). I don't know with whom, or where, I'll be having lunch every day (office buddies, as yet unknown? little diners/cafes? hot dog wagon? previous office buddies who travel downtown to lunch with me?).

To top off all this silliness, my 20th high school reunion is coming up on Saturday. That opens up a whole host of other concerns that aren't related, or are indirect opposition with, the new job issues. Sheesh. Caron has already had to give me one pep talk to help me keep myself grounded. He said something interesting: "This is the first time in your life that you're going through a major change in your life when the major change is a good change. In the past, you've always had to adjust to major changes that are bad, and you know how to do that well. Your brain is reacting this way (anxiety, depression, worried) because it only knows one way to deal with major changes." I think he has a point there.

I GOT THE JOB!!!!!!! HOLY CRAPPOLA!!!!

Thanks to all that made this a reality. Thank you for your positive thoughts and prayers. Thank you, thank you, thank you!!! Obviously, I am pretty psyched.

One of the guys that originally interviewed me called on Tuesday morning just to say, "We're still considering you as a candidate and wanted to tell you that we're still thinking about you." I said, "Cool. Thanks so much for calling." He said, "Expect another call from someone in our office by the end of today. They'll set up a second interview for you." I said, "Wow, awesome! Thanks so much. I'm looking forward to the call." We then said, "Bye-bye!" The end of the day arrived and...no call. (What the fuck!!) So I fretted all day on Wednesday, waiting for some sign, some something, to no avail. Wednesday afternoon arrived and I said to my co-worker, "Should I call them?" He hesitated and said, "No, I'd wait until tomorrow morning." So I took his advice and waited. Good thing I did.

Thursday morning rolls around and as I'm brushing my teeth, I hear my cell phone ringing. I rush over to the phone, see that it's the interview guy, and answer the phone with a mouthful of toothpaste. "Belinda?" he says. "Yeth," I say (and then rush to the bathroom sink to spit out the offending toothpaste with my hand over the cell phone microphone). Long story short: Moments later, he offers me the job. Stunned, I nearly shout, "Yes! I accept!"

I am now the proud new owner of a much-better-paying (42% increase in salary over what I'm getting at the present job), retirement-benefits-intact, excellent-health/life-insurance-benefits job. Yippeeee!  Yahoooooooeeeeeee! (pant, pant, wheeze).