Ever get annoyed? Ever feel like someone needs to be told where the dog died? Or handed a crowbar and a tub of Elbow Grease to help them pry their head out of their arse? Congratulations--you've come to the right place.

And when I'm not commenting on the latest thing to piss me off, I'm trying to figure out my own twisted life. Because, hey, I'm like that.

On a gentler note: for anyone dealing with depression, anxiety, and other assorted bullshit: You are NOT alone.

And if you're looking for a laugh, search on the key word "fuckery." It's just my little thing (as the bishop said to the actress).

Tuesday, February 15, 2011


Hey, kids. How goes it?
Apologies from Your Empress; it's been a bit intense over the past couple of weeks. Mum was back in the hospital last week, and work got a bit ugly.
I don't like to talk too much about my job; for one thing, I'd rather not give anyone grounds to fire me. For another, it's kinda irrelevant. I mean, there are parts of it that I love, and I'm very, very good at what I do. On the other, some of the people I work with... Argh. Not bad people, just... just silly. Passive aggressive. And no comprehension that there is a world outside of the Library that directly impacts my position.
See, my title is "Acquisitions Coordinator," but in reality, I'm the purchasing agent and bookkeeper. (I have other duties--like being the elected rep to a University-wide council that deals directly with staff issues and quality of life, something I am immensely proud of and invested in--and book repair, which gives me joy just because I hate to see a book thrown away and the knowledge lost.) I not only have responsibility to the people to whom I answer in the library, but also to the Finance office and the rules and regulations governing their operation. This is not a small thing--the Uni is a non-profit company and has IRS requirements it must abide by to maintain that status. There's a lot of other rules, and like it or lump it, I have to play by them. Not everyone understands this, and over the past couple of weeks, it's led to some really unpleasant confrontations and a lot of bullshit that pushed me to the point I was ready to resign.
That would not be a good thing at this point--I really want to hold off until Mum is settled in Elder Housing, and I've found representation for Broom Closet. I had started looking into other positions a month ago, and I realized that the last thing I wanted is to get into another 9 to 5 situation right now. What I want is to get the fuck out of the 9 to 5 rat race. I'm old and I'm done, guys. I'm actually at the point where I've decided that when the book sells, I'll be happy to go and work part-time at Sbux. Seriously. I'm done with being stuck at a desk. I'd already made up my mind that I'm leaving when the director retires (and that's in another 2.5 years) because I can't deal with breaking in another director and trying to re-adapt my job.
And it's not what I want to do any more.
I want to be back in theatre and performing. I'd rather be producing and promoting, performing, not having to worry about being up at 7 in the morning, and not having to be someplace Monday through Friday. I want a schedule that I've got some say in. I want to be doing something meaningful that calls on my creative talents.
This ain't doin' it.
I've also been writing comedy again; I had a great convo with the Fabulous Alicia's hubby, Josh, last week. He's also going the standup route; I was over their house, visiting, and he came in from open miking. He'd had a good set (saw the video), and we shot the shit for a bit. He listened to a couple of the new pieces I'd put together (including the one liners), and gave me some great advice. Favorite Crush was psyched that I'm going to open mic again and is going to come along for moral support.
I think I mentioned that I've been designing again. I'm trying to put together a signature look--it's all about the packaging, right? And it gives me an excuse to make something gorgeous for myself that I ordinarily couldn't justify. So tonight I'll be sewing together my raspberry pink military jacket (trimmed in black velvet) and working on the custom paint job on my black Chuck's (based on a Sailor Jerry tattoo flash). I'm hoping to have time to build the black velvet peacoat. It just fires a different set of synapses, designing. Makes me happy in a very different way, a way I haven't felt in a while.
The gym is helping, too. Last week wasn't great--having Mum in the hospital cut into my work out time--but I've gotten back on the horse. Actually, I've climbed on the eliptical for the first time. :-D That was Sunday--I managed four minutes and then another two minutes, averaging about 4 mph. That's pretty amazing for someone who needs both knees replaced. :-D Mixing it up with lat pulls, bicep curls, rows, back extensions, crunches, calf extensions, leg presses, flies, tricep presses, and probably other stuff I'm forgetting. Oh, yeah, the hip adductions & abductions. I'm dead chuffed. Haven't got my strength back to where it was six years ago--not pressing 140 yet--but I'll get there. My jeans are getting saggy in the arse, my stomach is firmer, and that's what I care about. If I can just get rid of the cellulite on my thighs and get rid of the paunch, life will be perfect. And the left elephant wing. It's going to take a few months, but I'm sticking to the resolution to get down.
Plus, I feel fucking awesome after I leave the gym.
There were a lot of anniversaries at the end of January--stuff I really didn't want to think about or really reflect on or talk about: two year anniversary of my gastric bypass (good thing); one year since committing Idiot and forcing him in sobriety (bad thing); one year since #5 (sad thing); and other stuff I just don't want to dwell on.
So I've been quiet. Trying to keep it all together. Managing at the moment.
Seeing Jim Jefferies at Foxwoods on Saturday. :-D

I'll be getting back to blogging regularly soon. (And I promise I'll finish the 99th page blogfest.) Be well, darling blurkers.
Your Empress

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