I had my 3-month performance review last Friday, and like my usual nerdy schoolgirl self, I was a little nervous. But I came out with flying colors. Hee, hee! Even scored several checkmarks in the “exceeds expectations” column. Ok, so to be honest, I was a bit disappointed there weren’t more ticks in that column, but whatever. Room to grow.

Speaking of which, on my weekly call to the fam, dad was happy to hear the news. But then he gave some weird-ass advice, particularly coming from a gung-ho workaholic himself. He said, “You know, first year, you don’t have to give full force. Because then you start off doing really well and when your performance plateaus, you don’t look as good. So maybe first year just give 70%. Then next year 80%, and increase from there.” Say what? I didn’t want to get into another tiff with Squabble Central, so I just “hmmed” my way through that part of the conversation. But wtf? I was offended. I mean, is he saying that just because this is a government job, and he disrespects government such that they don’t deserve to have hardcore workers? Has he just become jaded about the importance and value of work? I never saw him giving just 70%. I mean, Jesus Christ, that’s a C (if we’re putting it into grades that I understand more intimately). Whatever. I was irritated, because for one, I feel that advice isn’t very supportive of how much I love my job and of how much passion I feel for it. Plus, what’s wrong with giving something your all? I mean, as long as it’s not destroying me and turning me into a horrible person, why not give 100% to something I enjoy. Ugh. Anyway, I was annoyed.

And on that pleasant note, the conversation turned even better. “Oh, I wanted to ask you something…” Uh oh. “Johnny is doing much better now”… blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. “Do you think you could spend just a few minutes to talk to him…” Isn’t it enough that I communicated with him during the holidays? At first, it sounded like maybe he was getting back on track, but as our stay progressed, it became extremely apparent to both John and me that in fact, nothing has changed. My family still props him up. The dude misplaced his passport, so who ends up researching how to contact the authorities and how to get it replaced? My mother. Seriously folks. A.B. Duke scholar. Full ride to Duke on merit scholarship. Has his mother researching how to get his passport replaced. Of course he’s to blame. And they are to blame. He’s 33 years old. Grow the fuck up.

Anyway, father asks me, and I respond that I’ll think about it. “You have to think about something that just takes a few minutes to do?” I was pissed. Look, I heard your request, and I’m going to think about it. I should have just said, “If you demand an immediate answer, the answer is no.” Either way, the answer now is no, because this isn’t something that takes just a few minutes. This is a lifetime of pain. This is a lifetime of Little Emperor syndrome, exacerbated by a lifetime of parenting gone wrong. Fuck that. My OCD isn’t so bad that I’d voluntarily subject myself to repeated disappointment. That’s not to say I don’t believe in change. I do, but again, he has no motivation to change when everyone around him feeds him with a silver spoon. And that practice will certainly continue after he moves to Taiwan and is surrounded by my babying family over there. Barren womb forever, I tell you.

God, I’ve been so bad lately about writing. What’s the deal, right? To be honest, for the longest time, I’ve been meaning to update but somehow procrastination had gotten the best of me.

The new year’s kicked off to a decent start. No resolutions list as with last year, but don’t worry, mentally, I have a to do. Always have my to do. I’m thinking get in shape, get back on the Spanish train, kick ass at the job that I love… in general, eat less, move more, learn more, and give more.

My buddy Tina has turned out to be a real blessing. She’s a total trooper… signs up for all the activities I want to do (but Bubbey doesn’t). We’re carpooling, sharing magazines, making dinner, rollerblading… she’s like a sister I never had. Of course, all my dear friends are like sisters but it’s nice because Tina lives five minutes away. So it’s good: we sort of motivate each other to be more active than we would be individually. Plus, John’s been hammered at work lately. I mean, he’s the total superstar (won the company “Hero of 2007” Award) so that’s really awesome, but he works A LOT. I mean, take tonight for example. He got home about an hour later than he said, we ate dinner with his iPhone next to his bowl, and now he’s on a work call. Ahh, such is the life of the workaholic. Who can blame him. I also do some bit of work from home every night. Then again, I’m a wannabe overachiever and well, I love my work, what can I say. A workaholic can’t rag on another workaholic, right?

Speaking more of my work, I had a big presentation Monday to all the managers. Gave a sort of web update. I was all stressed: spent the weekend prior doing my slides, running through my spiel. Thankfully, the meeting went well. This week I’ve been working on some budgeting stuff. Love the responsibilities of this job. I’m learning so much. Totally rocks. Plus, I recently joined NTEN, the Nonprofit Technology Network. They’re having a conference in New Orleans in March, and work might even pay for me to go! How sweet would that be? On my down time, I’ll have to hit up my buddies Brad and Angie. Yup. I’m a celeb gossip freak that way.

Oh, John’s company just released their new 2008 HR policies. Unlimited paid vacation. Can you fucking believe? As long as you get your shit done and the manager approves, you’re home fucking free. Plus, they pay half of your gym membership. Dotcom companies, man. Flush with cash. And they say government benefits are good. My benefits are shit compared to his. Sigh. Oh well, the good thing is that he may go with me to Orleans, so that could be a fun little adventure.

In other news, I climbed back in the saddle last Saturday– first time since before Christmas. I rode Tucker this time— even larger than Hobbs. This horse was so humongous that the top of my head only reached the base of his neck. I know! Massive! And he kicked my bony butt big time. I am so frickin’ bruised. At first, I was having a blast riding him fast around the ring. Then, he started going faster and faster and the next thing I knew, he was cutting the corners and shit. My ass was literally slamming in and out of the saddle. My instructor kept saying slow him down (I had the reins so fucking tight: he didn’t give a damn) and get a deeper seat. I swear, I must’ve looked like a wussy little rag doll getting thrashed about. Fucking horse. But he sure was a looker. I know, I’m such the masochist. He beats me up and I still brush him for an hour afterwards and feed him apples. I hope I get him again this weekend. I’ll so him who’s the boss.

Last weekend John and I also took our bicycles to the shop for brake adjustments. Let me tell you: bike repairs are crazy expensive. $60 to adjust the brakes on both bikes. Wtf? I mean seriously, how does bicycle repair cost more than auto repair? Honestly people. So annoying. But whatev, I was sick of fidgeting with the brakes on my own. At least now we’re set. John and I are going for a spin on Sunday. Can’t wait.

Well Bembo is harassing the shit out of me now. It’s time for their walk. Demanding little brats. But oh so cute. Signing off now. More later.

John and I barely made it to midnight on New Year’s. I’d like to blame it on the jetlag (we flew in late the day before), but more realistically, we’re just old farts. We were going to dig up our 07 resolutions (yes, he forced us to write them down) and see how we did, but someone lost them. Oh well, I think I met a lot of my goals so I’m feeling pretty good about 07. Well except for the year-end extra poundage (speaking of the fat dog). Yup, I think my body was prepping for hibernation or something. Got a little muffin top in time for the holidays. Oh well, reason enough for some new resolutions– healthier meals, more exercise, etc. I recently tried a cherry-glaze lamb chop recipe out of Cooking Light. Pretty good. I think the magazine holds promise.

From my parents’ home in Maryland, I shipped a few more of our things in storage. I brought home a dish set Johnny gave us for our wedding. I know, I’m usually not one for home decorating and such, but the plates are part of this guy’s (William Kimball?) animal collection. So they are a bunch of farm animals. Super cute. And they will work nicely when I have my game nights and parties (I’m such a wannabe socialite).

More importantly, I shipped our two road bikes. I know, seems totally ridiculous to ship bicycles across the country, but my god, bikes are pricey these days. Like $400 each! So I did all my online research and shipping was only $40/bike via FedEx Ground. Granted I spent half a day on this project, retrieving bike boxes, disassembling the bikes with great difficulty (even with the help of my gramps Yeb), boxing, packaging, transporting to FedEx, etc. Yes, it was exhausting but I’m psyched to get them. The packages are slated to arrive tomorrow. I was thinking to just take them to REI for assembly and tune-up, but knowing my cheap-ass self, I’ll probably end up doing it (in our living room)!

Miraculously, our holiday in Maryland was much less stressful than years past. Not exactly sure why– it was still crazy, we still shuttled around in a car for hours each day, and Bubs and I still endured the stupid car squabbles between my mom and dad. Still, I guess we had a different mindset this time. We just tried not to let stuff get to us.

And let me tell you, the vacation certainly did not start off on a good note. God, there was this couple who sat behind us on the plane. They had their 5 year-old daughter wedged between them, and geez, the kid was more mature than the adults. Seriously people. If you’re going to have kids, please don’t be a child yourself. The dad kept whining to the mom: “Tell her to stop wiggling around in her seat, because she’s knocking off all my electronics!” Uh hello, the kid is sitting right next to you: tell her your damn self. And control your frickin’ kid for Crissakes. Anyway, after his puerile fit, he proceed to step out into the aisle and do yoga stretches. Say what? Yup exactly. And he started like putting his feet on people’s seats, he leaned into John’s seatback… wtf? Total asshole. Needless to say, this punk and his crew made our flight miserable. Was the least restful flight I’ve had in a long time.

Anyway, on to the holiday. Johnny was back in town: came home abruptly from Taiwan to take care of grad school paperwork, blah, blah. Who knows. There’s always something. I also got wind that he lost his passport, and of course who is “helping” him re-apply for a new one? My parents. Just hits a nerve everytime. I mean, my parents are frickin’ senior citizens now. Why are they wasting hours making calls and fumbling around online when my brainiac AB Duke scholar of a brother could be researching this shit on his own? Granted, I’m sure his online research skills are not as savvy as mine 🙂 but still, certainly they are far better than those of our parents, right? So annoying. He also gave me a book, The Secret, which John read in one night. John says it’s weird– all about how you can get everything you want with positive thinking. I’m all for good attitude but please. Asking the universe for a parking space (yes, the author uses that as an example!)? Stop being a lazy fucker and walk your ass from the far end of the lot. Plus, what kind of moron would trouble the universe with such a petty request? Lame. No, I haven’t read the book myself, so I know my comment is very judgmental. That’s why this is no one else’s blog but mine.

In other news, I saw my in-laws. They are the same. And their dog Oliver. Holy shit. Fat. as. hell. I mean, what do I expect: eggs/bacon every morning for breakfast, his usual monstrous scoops of dog kibble, plus a goddamn treat every five minutes (for doing NOTHING, mind you). Seriously, the dog is supposed to be maybe 80 lbs. He weighs more than I do. Plus he has hip dysplasia. And my mom-in-law had the nerve to say, “He’s just really big boned. Now, tell me if you think otherwise, but I don’t think he’s…” Even before she finished, I said, “Yeah, he’s FAT!” I think she was a bit surprised by my bluntness, but hey, denial ain’t just a river in Egypt. Poor, poor dog. He’s going to have a very short life, and no matter how much enjoyment he gets from food, I’m sure he’d enjoy strong health and real canine mobility much more. He can’t even run around with the neighbor’s dog. Ugh. Dog needs to go to a boot camp.

My final week at work before the holiday was busy. Honestly, I felt like I was in finals week at college. Yes, mostly self-imposed pressure but Jesus, after that huge website debacle the week before, I was obsessed with moving to a new web host. After much research, I settled on CrystalTech, and I have to say, they rock. Super affordable but more important than anything, their service is awesome. Responsive, knowledgeable, and oh so attentive. After purchasing the plan, my account was set up and ready for uploading in like ten minutes. When I called about setting up my MSSQL databases, the tech people actually suggested software to use and ideal file formats. OMFG, such a world of difference compared to Shit plus (A Plus). Anyway, can’t say enough about CT. The new site is up, I just need to make some tweaks to the admin pages and then we are good to go. Propagating before the new year.

In other news, I’m back on the east coast now. John and I flew in last night and my god, the flight was hell. I don’t know if it’s the 6-7 lbs. I’ve put on since Thanksgiving or what, but the frickin’ seat was uncomfortable as hell. I was so crammed. I mean, I still slept most of the flight, but still, I was irritated. Then, a couple with a kid sat behind us and they kept bickering. The husband was especially annoying. He got out into the aisle and started doing yoga stretches, putting his feet on people’s seats and shit. Then he kept leaning against John’s chair pushing it back with the pressure. What an asshole. Seriously, if what he was doing was no big nuisance, why didn’t he do it on his wife’s chair? Ugh. We were so pissed. They were like Rockville people. If you’re from the DC metro area, you know what we mean.

So tomorrow’s the big day. John and I went out to the store for some last minute shopping. I’ve been wrapping gifts out my ass. My mother-in-law asked if we wanted to go to church. “No pressure and it doesn’t really matter,” but we were asked about three times. I baked brownies for the siblings and leave it to me to screw up one of the batches. Hey, stuff just doesn’t bake right when there are two dishes in the oven. Oh well, in the end, it all worked out since Susan is now vegan. So that cuts out one person, and I managed to have enough brownies that made the cut.

Yes, she’s vegan now and I have to say, I’m curious how this will go with the family. Got to give her credit for hanging tough. Seriously, no butter, cheese, or diary? I should consider vegetarianism again, if anything, it’s maybe an effective way to drop this turkey weight. Jeans and pants are all tight again. What a total beotch.

Ok well I’m ready to go home to California already. I just like to have my things, my doggies, and my own schedule you know what I mean? The holidays are exhausting.

The other day I went shopping Bubbey style. I was in and out of the Old Navy store in record time. I was looking for a sweater, spotted a simple v-neck in one of my favorite colors (eggplant), and within minutes I was out the door.

Of course, the next morning when I put it on, the waist area seemed oddly paunchy. I figured someone must have tried to squeeze into her wrong size. I popped it in the dryer to give it a shrink and then off I went.

Well, I received my statement today: it read Women’s Maternity. Yup. I picked up a frickin’ sweater for a pregnant woman. I of all people. I who proudly waves the “Barren Womb Forever” banner. I selected maternity wear. Ugh. Well there’s no question that shit’s going back. In my defense though, I did get the right size. I just happened to miss the very difficult to read italicized gold embroider on the label. Oh well. You win some, you lose some.

OMFG. Work website was down for 3 bloody frickin’ days. Can you believe? Who the hell does that? No, it wasn’t my fault but god, it was killing me. And I was riding major ass with our web hosts. So worthless. THE worst tech support system ever. No one has direct communication with the server admin. I was on them like every two hours. Whatev. Come Monday, I’m starting the migration. Cannot deal with crap service. Seriously, I was on the phone multiple times a day, with a different rep each time, and in the end, still no ounce of insight on what the hell happened other than “you were hacked.” Duh.

It’s been a rough week– very little sleep, high anxiety, and super pissy mood. Good news is we’re back online. Bad news is the dynamic content is still fucked. Hackers got into our database. Luckily, no major files were deleted, but still. Pain in my ass.

All other errands for the weekend fell to the wayside. Ugh. Week before the holidays. I have a feeling week is going to start off full speed. Gotta go to the grocery store now. Bubbey has to be back before the Redskins game at 5. More later.

Well fuck me. As you know, today was the big day, the day of our store launch. Yes, I’d been working on this thing since early November and I had it all ready right. on. time. Today was it, and from the start, I should have known the day was doomed.

First, I had anxiety dreams last night about store glitches. Then I woke up late. The first thing I did after rolling out of bed was double check the store account creation page. I’d asked the web developer to move some fields around, which he did, but then I didn’t test it again. Well, when I tested it this morning, I discovered it was broken. Thank goodness I checked, because every single order would have required the buyer to create an account. So fine, emailed the guy and went on my merry way into work.

By the time I got to my desk, the glitch was fixed. By noon, the updated navbar (with the SHOP button) was in place. At 1:30 (prime time for an email blast), I sent out my HTML email to about 400 volunteers, announcing our new store. The first reply to my message? Some crankster asshole complaining that we were spamming, and he was unsubscribing. Mind you, this was our first email ever having any tone of solicitation. Plus, for years volunteers, staff, and the public have been asking us for an online store. Whatev.

Next, I got a call from one of our field staff: The employment page got hacked. As soon as I viewed it, I called our web hosts. While on hold, I watched the rest of the site completely shut down. WTF? Then, while I was on hold with our hosting fuckers (they really suck… and not just today), I started getting a shitload of calls from people complaining that the store link was broken. Yeah, tell me about it. How badly could this launch have gone? It’s now 11 pm, and I’ve called the web hosts 3 times requesting an ETA or status update. None. I just get the same generic bullshit response: we escalated your ticket to the administrator, and we’ll contact you when he/she responds. Are you fucking kidding me? We pay $700 a year and you won’t let me speak directly with your administrator AND there’s no ETA for the fix? That is the last straw. Time for another host. Of coruse that doesn’t help me for now does it? Goddamnit. I hope this is fixed by morning.

Oh what else? All afternoon there was a helicopter hovering over our office block. There were a bunch of cop cars all over. Some bomb scare or something. On my way to the store, the car in front kept staring at the cop cars and then he rammed right into the truck ahead of him. See what I mean? Today was fucked from the start. Something is up cosmically… the stars are misaligned or whatever. Oh and btw, temps tonight are dipping below freezing.

Ok, enough with my belly aching. Other than the possibility of getting canned (I’m still on probation after all…) for this failed store launch, I’m doing great. This must be punishment for all my recent gloating about the job and life.

Ugh. Time for bed.

Ha, ha. I told my friend/former coworker I had started doing extra work at home in the evenings and during the weekends. I explained that I was simply having too much fun… that and well, I obviously still had some lingering workaholic tendencies. His response? “If you were a turtle, you’d still run like a rabbit.” Cracked me up.

Ahh my tumultuous love affair with horses continues… I’ve been riding now since mid September. I just completed my thirteenth lesson this past Saturday and well, despite my earlier enthusiasm about riding fast and about realizing my true cowgirl self, in the last month or so, I’ve started to doubt the whole horse-rider relationship. Yes, it’s a little embarrassing to admit, but the bottom line is, I have issues about the lacking (or rather, nonexistent) emotional connection with the horses. I find myself really wanting them to behave and interact like dogs. But they don’t. They are so aloof. Sure, part of the deal is that riding different horses improves my skills; certainly, as a novice rider, I need that. But still, I sort of feel like I’m using the horse every lesson. I just ride him/her, order ’em around, and then buh bye. It’s like a freaking business transaction or something. I don’t know, it just feels disconnected. So what ends up happening is that I enjoy the hour that I’m riding, but as soon as I dismount and go home, I start bellyaching about the emotional detachment. And for the entire week following, I’m on this hot/cold emotional roller coaster: I persuade myself to stop riding because there’s no point without the true relationship. Then the following week, I get on the horse, and I love cantering so much that I find myself eager for the next lesson. Then I go home and the love/hate cycle continues.

This Saturday, I rode Hobbs again. I’d ridden him before. He’s a big beautiful chestnut quarterhorse– yes, the former show horse. He’s gorgeous. Again, a total stubborn mofo who gives me plenty of trouble in my walk/jog transitions BUT he is so soft and pretty. I got sucked in once again. I ended up staying an extra hour after my lesson to pet him and feed him. I even talked to him, so who knows, maybe Hobbs and I have a burgeoning friendship. I’m a real sucker, I tell you. Now I guess I’ll at least finish up the year and then possibly re-evaluate in the New Year. I’m so fickle.