She's about 5'4 from her head to the ground.
Last Wednesday was an incredibly long day. I came in to find my Inbox choc full of things labeled "High Importance" and "For Follow-Up." These are becoming two of my least favorite phrases in the English language. Amazingly, most of these e-mails were things that took only a few seconds of programming and couple of short sentences on my end. Still, there were so many of them and they kept coming, that I ended up at the office for ten hours. This is what happens when the senior member of your team is on vacation, never mind that she's leaving your team for another one in a week anyway, your team manager is on vacation, and the rest of your team doesn't know how to handle investigations. Thankfully, I developed a program or two which severally cuts down on the amount of time this stuff takes. Otherwise, I'd probably still be sitting there.
On Thursday, I had only been in the office for about an hour and fifteen minutes when the division head came by to chat. I was expecting him to drop some huge project in my lap, but instead, he told me that once I finished up my critical projects, I could go home early because of the holiday. I believe my response was, "Thanks." But my grin said, "Wicked." I didn't really have any critical projects other than some data feed that need a correction, which would take me all of five minutes. My manager e-mailed me to tell me to forget about that until next year (ha!), so I checked-up on the consultants, and then I was out of there. On the way to the elevator, some guy from some other team held the door open for me and chatted me up on the way down to the lobby. Apparently, he knows who I am. ("You wrote the new algorithm!") I had no clue who he was. This is not the first time this has happened to me. It's strange. I ran for the L, missed the Pink line, caught the Green, got off at Clark/Lake, ran down three flights of stairs and one long platform to transfer to the Blue, ran up four flights of stairs and down one long platform to catch the Metra (barely). My legs didn't hurt at all, but I couldn't catch my breath. Must be that anemia thing.
Saw The Pursuit of Happyness with the parents. I thought it was quite good. Although kind of funny that I ran right by Gardner Rich to catch the Metra. Friday, I hung out with my mom, bought a ton of clothes that I don't need. Saturday, I saw The Good Shepherd. DeNiro needs to learn how to direct. I also started coming down with something, but I figured it was just a sinus problem. Sunday, I called a bunch of old friends and caught up for a bit before Da and I headed down to the Bears vs. Packers game.
The game was a lot of fun. We had great seats. Great view and not too many assholes around us. But parking was a nightmare. They've got that all jacked-up. Apparently, only season ticket holders can park anywhere near Soldiers Field now. We had to park in the Grant Park Underground, which is a good 2 miles from the stadium. This wouldn't have been so bad in the daylight, but the NFL and NBC had optioned this game to a 7:15pm start, which meant that we had to fight with people going to Navy Pier and the House of Blues and every other fucking place for a parking spot. Plus, the Bears didn't show up to play since the game didn't count for shit as they're already in the playoffs and Green Bay was out. So, Da and I left toward the end of the third quarter, seeing as how we were freezing our asses off. We stopped at Dunkin' Donuts on the way home and got there in time to ring in the New Year with Mom with some Irish coffee and donuts while watching the Tragically Hip.
My feeling of sickness from Saturday turned into a full-blown flu/cold thing this morning. I've been nursing water and tea and huddling under the blankets for most of the day. I'm hoping that I'll be fine by tomorrow because my team manager is going to be in-town and I need to be there. I haven't been sick in over a year. This blows.
Oh, yeah, and in the past three days, I've read six books.
Blackbird by Larry Duplechan
This is supposed to be the classic black coming out story. Personally, I don't really see a lot of race in this story. At all. Actually, if it wasn't mentioned at some point in the book that the main character is black, I never would've guessed that he was. It reads like a young adult novel, except for the porn, something like Sweet Valley High meets Queer as Folk, and just as clichéd.
Sweet Lips by Mel Smith
It's a western. With gay cowboys. And a lot of sex where it doesn't make sense to have it. ("Hey, Sweet Lips, I know you almost died from a horrible infection from being shot by Indians, but let's fuck!") Also, the author needs to relearn their geography and how far a horse can travel in a day. But, whatever.
Geography Club by Brent Hartinger
This is labeled as a young adult novel, but I think it works without the label. Great flow of language, snappy dialogue. The characters could've used a little more fleshing out, but no one's perfect.
Dream Boy: A Novel by Jim Grimsley
For starters, if you're going to write in the third person, pick a narrator and stick to it, please. Also, it's okay to use pronouns instead of names. Half the time, I was like, "wait, is Nathan the one with the sexually abusive alcoholic father or is it Roy?" Not to mention, abusing the hell out of your main character doesn't necessarily make him sympathetic. You kind of have to give him emotions first. Oh, and what the hell was with the whole Jesus/John thing?
The Year of Ice: A Novel by Brian Malloy
Excellent! Read this! The fact that the main character (Kevin) is gay is actually pretty unimportant to the plot of the story. It's actual literature where the main character just happens to be gay. The plot of the book isn't to find Kevin a boyfriend or have him come out to the whole town or whatever as it is in most gay literature. Kevin being gay is just a subplot, another thing he deals with in his life. Just like being gay is another thing most gays and lesbians deal with in their own lives. It's not the epicenter of their lives. Very realistic, very cool. Loved it.
Half-Life: A Novel by Aaron Krach
Even though I wasn't so enamored with the main character, this was very well-done. I loved the concept. It reminded me of Crash. How all of our lives are connected, if we just look up and notice it.
Right now, I'm reading:
Almost Like Being in Love: A Novel by Steve Kluger
The writing style annoys the hell out of me. I find it to be very lazy. Meg Cabot does the same thing with the little notes and letters and to-do lists instead of actual prose. I'm making my way through it though. Once I got past my annoyance with it and past all the set-up to the actual plot, it's not so bad. Plus, I find the idea that American History and baseball are the same thing to be hilarious.
My year in review:
January
I was living in Albany, NY, working as a research assistant for the professor from hell, earning slightly above the poverty line for a living, slaving over my dissertation and my advisor's projects, dating someone who was completely wrong for me on every level (not to mention lived over a thousand miles away), was trying to get the hell out of NY by applying for every job I was remotely qualified for in the vicinity of Chicago, and was suicidal. This led to me breaking up with the above and to start composing my suicide note.
February
Still in NY. My paternal grandmother had a stroke. I was going insane in a very ugly way. Attempted suicide on February 1st and again on February 24th. The second time landed me involuntarily committed to the psychiatric ward.
March
Spent most of this month in the hospital. Got out, said good-bye to NY and friends, moved back to Chicago and into parents' house. Don't remember much more than that.
April
Clung to the dog like he was my life-line. Watched a lot of TV.
May
Started getting out of the house for more than seeing a psychiatrist. Volunteered a bit. Cleaned up the house, gardened, started to learn that life is worth living.
June
Slowly emerged from protective cocoon of my parents' arms and went looking for jobs. But no one wants to hire a Ph.D. candidate to be a part-time cashier. I also find out that I have high cholesterol, pre-diabetes and hypothyroidism.
July
Panic began to set in as I knew that my health insurance would be coming to an end and my student loan payments would be starting. Still, I spent most of this month lounging around doing what I had done in May. On the greatest person ever's birthday, I return to the internet.
August
Turns out, I'm not as over certain issues as I thought I was. It takes awhile to really dump your past, but I don't realize this until later. In the meantime, a few people unfriend me. Such is life. It's all for the best. Throw some more clichés in there. Honestly, if one person in particular hadn't done it here, I would've done it later. As my freshman lit teacher always said, "Sometimes, honey, a bank vice-president and a taxi driver just ain't gonna make it in this world; what have they got in common besides knowing how to make change?" Indeed. You know, I never was one for all that not dating across class/education lines, but sometimes they've got a point. Also, at the end of this month, I apply for a job on a whim, a couple of days later, I'm hired.
September
I start my new job and the rest of my life. My dad totals my old van and I get a new car in the process. On the 19th, I turn 26. I feel like a new person. It's a good thing.
October
New job continues to be awesome. I start disconnecting myself from the past. Throwing away old clothes, shit from the old apartment, etc. Life is good.
November
Go in for a blood test with the new doctor and find out that all that bad shit from June is gone to be replaced with hypertension and anemia. Not bad. Also, new psychiatrist is awesome.
December
Doing very well at work. Get extra vacation days for next year. Will probably be promoted in May of '07. Who could ask for anything more?
A very joyous new year to all of you. Kisses and hugs, darlings.
On Thursday, I had only been in the office for about an hour and fifteen minutes when the division head came by to chat. I was expecting him to drop some huge project in my lap, but instead, he told me that once I finished up my critical projects, I could go home early because of the holiday. I believe my response was, "Thanks." But my grin said, "Wicked." I didn't really have any critical projects other than some data feed that need a correction, which would take me all of five minutes. My manager e-mailed me to tell me to forget about that until next year (ha!), so I checked-up on the consultants, and then I was out of there. On the way to the elevator, some guy from some other team held the door open for me and chatted me up on the way down to the lobby. Apparently, he knows who I am. ("You wrote the new algorithm!") I had no clue who he was. This is not the first time this has happened to me. It's strange. I ran for the L, missed the Pink line, caught the Green, got off at Clark/Lake, ran down three flights of stairs and one long platform to transfer to the Blue, ran up four flights of stairs and down one long platform to catch the Metra (barely). My legs didn't hurt at all, but I couldn't catch my breath. Must be that anemia thing.
Saw The Pursuit of Happyness with the parents. I thought it was quite good. Although kind of funny that I ran right by Gardner Rich to catch the Metra. Friday, I hung out with my mom, bought a ton of clothes that I don't need. Saturday, I saw The Good Shepherd. DeNiro needs to learn how to direct. I also started coming down with something, but I figured it was just a sinus problem. Sunday, I called a bunch of old friends and caught up for a bit before Da and I headed down to the Bears vs. Packers game.
The game was a lot of fun. We had great seats. Great view and not too many assholes around us. But parking was a nightmare. They've got that all jacked-up. Apparently, only season ticket holders can park anywhere near Soldiers Field now. We had to park in the Grant Park Underground, which is a good 2 miles from the stadium. This wouldn't have been so bad in the daylight, but the NFL and NBC had optioned this game to a 7:15pm start, which meant that we had to fight with people going to Navy Pier and the House of Blues and every other fucking place for a parking spot. Plus, the Bears didn't show up to play since the game didn't count for shit as they're already in the playoffs and Green Bay was out. So, Da and I left toward the end of the third quarter, seeing as how we were freezing our asses off. We stopped at Dunkin' Donuts on the way home and got there in time to ring in the New Year with Mom with some Irish coffee and donuts while watching the Tragically Hip.
My feeling of sickness from Saturday turned into a full-blown flu/cold thing this morning. I've been nursing water and tea and huddling under the blankets for most of the day. I'm hoping that I'll be fine by tomorrow because my team manager is going to be in-town and I need to be there. I haven't been sick in over a year. This blows.
Oh, yeah, and in the past three days, I've read six books.
Blackbird by Larry Duplechan
This is supposed to be the classic black coming out story. Personally, I don't really see a lot of race in this story. At all. Actually, if it wasn't mentioned at some point in the book that the main character is black, I never would've guessed that he was. It reads like a young adult novel, except for the porn, something like Sweet Valley High meets Queer as Folk, and just as clichéd.
Sweet Lips by Mel Smith
It's a western. With gay cowboys. And a lot of sex where it doesn't make sense to have it. ("Hey, Sweet Lips, I know you almost died from a horrible infection from being shot by Indians, but let's fuck!") Also, the author needs to relearn their geography and how far a horse can travel in a day. But, whatever.
Geography Club by Brent Hartinger
This is labeled as a young adult novel, but I think it works without the label. Great flow of language, snappy dialogue. The characters could've used a little more fleshing out, but no one's perfect.
Dream Boy: A Novel by Jim Grimsley
For starters, if you're going to write in the third person, pick a narrator and stick to it, please. Also, it's okay to use pronouns instead of names. Half the time, I was like, "wait, is Nathan the one with the sexually abusive alcoholic father or is it Roy?" Not to mention, abusing the hell out of your main character doesn't necessarily make him sympathetic. You kind of have to give him emotions first. Oh, and what the hell was with the whole Jesus/John thing?
The Year of Ice: A Novel by Brian Malloy
Excellent! Read this! The fact that the main character (Kevin) is gay is actually pretty unimportant to the plot of the story. It's actual literature where the main character just happens to be gay. The plot of the book isn't to find Kevin a boyfriend or have him come out to the whole town or whatever as it is in most gay literature. Kevin being gay is just a subplot, another thing he deals with in his life. Just like being gay is another thing most gays and lesbians deal with in their own lives. It's not the epicenter of their lives. Very realistic, very cool. Loved it.
Half-Life: A Novel by Aaron Krach
Even though I wasn't so enamored with the main character, this was very well-done. I loved the concept. It reminded me of Crash. How all of our lives are connected, if we just look up and notice it.
Right now, I'm reading:
Almost Like Being in Love: A Novel by Steve Kluger
The writing style annoys the hell out of me. I find it to be very lazy. Meg Cabot does the same thing with the little notes and letters and to-do lists instead of actual prose. I'm making my way through it though. Once I got past my annoyance with it and past all the set-up to the actual plot, it's not so bad. Plus, I find the idea that American History and baseball are the same thing to be hilarious.
My year in review:
January
I was living in Albany, NY, working as a research assistant for the professor from hell, earning slightly above the poverty line for a living, slaving over my dissertation and my advisor's projects, dating someone who was completely wrong for me on every level (not to mention lived over a thousand miles away), was trying to get the hell out of NY by applying for every job I was remotely qualified for in the vicinity of Chicago, and was suicidal. This led to me breaking up with the above and to start composing my suicide note.
February
Still in NY. My paternal grandmother had a stroke. I was going insane in a very ugly way. Attempted suicide on February 1st and again on February 24th. The second time landed me involuntarily committed to the psychiatric ward.
March
Spent most of this month in the hospital. Got out, said good-bye to NY and friends, moved back to Chicago and into parents' house. Don't remember much more than that.
April
Clung to the dog like he was my life-line. Watched a lot of TV.
May
Started getting out of the house for more than seeing a psychiatrist. Volunteered a bit. Cleaned up the house, gardened, started to learn that life is worth living.
June
Slowly emerged from protective cocoon of my parents' arms and went looking for jobs. But no one wants to hire a Ph.D. candidate to be a part-time cashier. I also find out that I have high cholesterol, pre-diabetes and hypothyroidism.
July
Panic began to set in as I knew that my health insurance would be coming to an end and my student loan payments would be starting. Still, I spent most of this month lounging around doing what I had done in May. On the greatest person ever's birthday, I return to the internet.
August
Turns out, I'm not as over certain issues as I thought I was. It takes awhile to really dump your past, but I don't realize this until later. In the meantime, a few people unfriend me. Such is life. It's all for the best. Throw some more clichés in there. Honestly, if one person in particular hadn't done it here, I would've done it later. As my freshman lit teacher always said, "Sometimes, honey, a bank vice-president and a taxi driver just ain't gonna make it in this world; what have they got in common besides knowing how to make change?" Indeed. You know, I never was one for all that not dating across class/education lines, but sometimes they've got a point. Also, at the end of this month, I apply for a job on a whim, a couple of days later, I'm hired.
September
I start my new job and the rest of my life. My dad totals my old van and I get a new car in the process. On the 19th, I turn 26. I feel like a new person. It's a good thing.
October
New job continues to be awesome. I start disconnecting myself from the past. Throwing away old clothes, shit from the old apartment, etc. Life is good.
November
Go in for a blood test with the new doctor and find out that all that bad shit from June is gone to be replaced with hypertension and anemia. Not bad. Also, new psychiatrist is awesome.
December
Doing very well at work. Get extra vacation days for next year. Will probably be promoted in May of '07. Who could ask for anything more?
A very joyous new year to all of you. Kisses and hugs, darlings.