the danish outpost
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it's gotta be better than the Ides of February


feeling kinda how a girl feels

something about the number 13 that i don't like... i can't even leave my stereo volume on 13. it's gotta be 12 or 14. yes, that makes me superstitious. and yesterday proved me right. it just had 13 written all the hell over it.

having forgotten M's birthday party, i found myself trying to scrape together an appropriate present at the last minute. people - she runs a gift store. do you know how impossible that makes it to shop for her? every neat thing i found i then realized i had seen in her store. augh! finally, in a fit of desperation, got her a silly bar shaker with a UFO theme; it's stocked with plastic freezy cube thingys shaped like flying saucers, and sparkly umbrellas, and drink stirrers with stars on the end. of course, i was late for the party at that point, and had no way to wrap her gift. so i ran across the street to another store that was about to close, snagged some tissue paper and a gift bag, and hopped on the T. the people in my car must have thought i was insane - juggling my gym bag, my pocketbook, two shopping bags, trying to crumple up some tissue paper to stuff the gift bag, and writing out a birthday card, all in two stops. Martha flippin' Stewart, i am not. and i got a paper cut on my tongue trying to lick the envelope.

most of yesterday i spent thinking about the fact that i have no idea what 'things working out' means. it sounds good, and i can get behind the idea. but what does it mean? for all i know, it could be code for 'not breaking up again'. mulling this over made me cranky. that, and my neck is so stiff i have a hard time turning my head. and when i was on the treadmill the other day, we were at the window but there was a little strip of wall in front of me, so i couldn't really see out the window. i took it rather personally that the wall decided to get in my way. and did i mention the paper cut on my tongue?

so when honey asked me last night if i wanted to talk about things, i warned him that he might not like the results. he offered again, feeling all supportive and listen-y. *thwop* that was the sound of my honey being decapitated. i've been told my tongue is sharp. now you know. 'here's your head. no, i don't have a silver platter. find your own damn platter.'

this, after he gave me a neck rub. he was shocked at how tight the muscles were and that he could tell, since he usually can't tell where the tight spots are. stress will do that, i guess. so i crankilated for a while, and he got the brunt of it. ah... charming. and i never did get any chores done last night, so the kitchen is still grungy and the laundry is still unwashed.

and have i mentioned how much i hate my insurance company and the HR department? we switched insurance coverage at the beginning of the year, apparently because we could. my coverage card showed up ... with my social security number on it. now, i don't labor under the delusion that the number is secret. but i also don't find it necessary to put it out there more than i have to. so i asked if a new card could be issued with a non-personal number. sure. this was three weeks ago. so far, no card. i called the insurance company, figuring it might have gotten lost. they have no idea that a change was requested, and don't have a new card for me. they say it's HR's responsibility. so i call HR. they say that it will take a Very Long Time to generate a dummy number (which, by the way, had already been generated), and they don't know when they could possibly get it done. and they say the insurance company is responsible.

about this point, i lost my cool. 'that's not an acceptable answer,' i said to the HR woman. silence, and then, 'what?' 'that's not an acceptable answer. i need my coverage card, without the social security number, and you need to take care of it or transfer me to your manager. do not send me back to the insurance company. if they need to be called, you call them.' funny, i somehow thought that as the Care Center representative responsible for my insurance coverage, this woman might actually have been able to handle the request without instructions from me. in theory, the wheels have been grinding to resolution on this, and i should see the card 'soon'. mm hm. when i see it, i'll believe.

and then... i got an e-card from my sweetie this morning that put a smile on my face for the whole day. sexy boy... he certainly knows how to cheer me up. i actually kind of like Valentine's Day. despite last night's crankathon, he accepted my invitation to be my valentine, and we're headed out for dinner at Oleana's. i can't even tell you how much i'm looking forward to eating like a pig all night. Ana is a wonderful cook, and a romantic dinner with my sweetie sounds like the best ticket in town. speaking of tickets, i finally get to give him his present - i got two tickets to hear David Sedaris speak next month. here's hoping he likes the idea.

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the appeal of the broken boy

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