November 14: Awesomeness and Confederate adventures pt. 1

So, Dzia stayed over last night. I really didn't expect her too, and it' one more reason that maybe this time is different than the last.... She had planned on coming over so we could go swimming at my gym and then maybe play guitar or watch a movie or something. Well, in a fit of Alzheimer's I left the free pass for her in my gym bag, in my car, locked in the Honda dealership. Awesome. Instead we went out for dinner with Surfer and his gf, both of whom I'll be heading to Richmond, VA with to visit Surfer's brother and sister. When we got back to my house, I stopped into my parents room to let them know she was staying (which they thanked me for and asked if she needed anything before they went back to bed. I love my parents) and then went to sleep. And yes, just to sleep.

In the morning she drove me to get my car since the part was finished being installed and then off to work. Work went by quickly with the anticipation of leaving for Richmond that night. I was supposed to meet Surfer at his parent's house and then we'd all leave from there around 6:30. Well, 6:30 somehow mutated into after 8pm and it started raining and being all sorts of foggy. We stopped for gas, Windex, and other necessities and headed to the Capital of the Confederacy. Around midnight I was done and since I actually had someone in the car whom I felt comfortable with driving my car, I let Surfer finish the drive. We pulled in front of his sister's place at 2:30am. We all had a Magic Hat #9, and were asleep by 3:30am.

November 2: An unorriginal naming scheme

If I'm already putting myself on the juicer to squeeze out 30 blog posts(yes, I had to sing the song to figure out how many days there were in November) and 50,000 words (which I haven't quite started yet, but I've thought tons about it!!) I'm not going to spend any excess cerebral sparkage on post titles. If they naturally happen, then fine... but other than that, it's not worth it.

2 days or so until history gets made in my country, one way or another. Personally, I hope it's the one way or else I'm going to have to see about how The Agency feels about me commuting to work from Canada...

Went out to my Favorite Winery because on the weekends they have their Holiday Spice wine all warmed up and served special for $5. Conclusion: I don't like it. Perhaps I should have tried it before I bought a few bottles, but yeah, it's waaaaay too heavy on the clove spice in it. It honestly reminds me of drinking a liquefied Djarum clove cigarette, which quite frankly, is disgusting. Oh well, I'll give it out as Christmas presents to people, I'm sure someone else might like it. Hopefully. I went there with Dzia, who, after recent circumstances, I have a feeling I'm going to be seeing a lot more of again. Normally I'm not one to really consider re-doing relationships for another go-round, but maybe if we're both in different places then it might work out eventually. Stranger things have happened... though, even with how many votes of conficence my closest friends have given her, I'm not quite holding my breath yet.

Overtime

So, it's official. My inherited caseload is so massively screwed up that I can't even start on any one new, let alone do what I need to for existing clients because what's on the computer end and what's in the physical file end aren't even close. There are unquestionably over a hundred individuals that I need to track down, close from my services, transfer to co-workers, transfer to other agencies, or worst of all, make up their info to get them off of my grid (my list) because there so far out of our system we have no contact info for them. So, until further notice, my work hours just became 8am to 6pm every day. As much of a pain in the royal behind this is going to be, I am really happy that I can build up 15+ hours of 'comp time'. Comp time basically means that I can just add it to any random day whenever I feel like it to make it add up to a full day. Example, I visit clients till noon, write on my time sheet I used comp time to fill up the rest of my required hours for the day, and then go rafting for the rest of the day on the river that happens to be close to the client I just went to see. We can store up to 60 hours and then the Powers That Be take it away from us with no reimbursement. Which, when thought about is reasonable enough considering with my 35 hour work week it's continual, self replenishing vacation time. And that doesn't count in our actual vacation, sick, or administrative time given to us. I've got two words for that: sweet deal.

I met with the financial planner guy who one of my employee's I hired seasonally last year gave my name too. After doing some research on the company he represents, I came to the quick conclusion that if I went out looking for someone in his field rather than him finding me, I would have most definitely chosen his company. He's a part of Northwestern Mutual has an unbelievably impressive and stable history in personal wealth management and life insurance. If they could maintain all of their workforce and even grow a little bit during the Great Depression of the 1920's, then whatever economic crisis we're going through now also shouldn't be a problem. Since I have a feeling that I will end up investing/starting some financial relationship with him, I'm going to use the name Tony for whenever I talk about him. No, not Chris's Tony but rather because of Tony Soprano. It entertains me greatly to nickname him for the most famous, fictitious, Jersey mobster and to think that he's in charge of my future financial stability. I'm easily amused...

Yesterday (because I passed out at 6:30 until my alarm this morning and didn't get to write or anything else for that matter), after job shadowing my counterpart in the southern part of the state I met Dzia to hang out for a bit. I hadn't seen her since she came up on a rainy Saturday three weekends back attempting to wash our cars together. Were I not a bit under the weather and the weather a bit warmer than it was we might have washed them anyway, but ultimately decided Starbucks was a better plan. Anyway, we met on the River and did all the fun cliche things that a boy and a girl do, talked, laughed, skipped rocks, joked around, went for a walk, etcetera etcetera. It was nice to see her and I did have a really good time. I really do believe that when she and I had our 'go round' the first time we just met a bit too early in each of our lives, and now, while we've got better timing in that respect, we just gotta not go too fast and we just might end up with something... or, at least there's the possibility of it. Just the fact that she entertained and seemed enthused at the idea of coming to Vegas with myself and a few friends is a significant step from whence I last knew her.

My Internet is actually out as I'm typing this, so if it doesn't come back up before I'm ready to head to sleep, which is quite soon, I have every intention of back dating this post to the proper day and time. Now if only there were a way to transfer this to my Kindle and I could post it from there...

Headaches, weddings, and then some...

Today, was the first day in nearly a week and a half where I haven't had a splitting migraine like headache just about exactly 4 hours after I woke up. It's nice, really nice to be pain free like that, but at the same time after having it been so consistent there's still a little fear in the back of my head that this is only a tease. I'm not sure quite when that irrational fear crept up on me, but if I'm sick for more than a week I don't really enjoy the places that my thoughts go to. Intense feelings of inevitability; that I'm never going to get better and I'm only going to get worse. Unrealistic and ridiculous, I know, but that doesn't prevent them from coming. Maybe it was from watching my uncle degrade in the months leading up to his death, maybe just the amount of times I've been sick, or just one too many episodes of House.

In other news, I finally e-mailed myself home a bunch quotes and sayings that I had collected while I was at work that I wanted to add to my Commonplace Book. So far it consists mostly quotes and the definition of what it is taped on the inside cover lest I ever forget. If I had a color printer I feel like it might fill up faster, but then again, not having one just means maybe I can coerce myself into drawing or constructing something artistic rather than easy.

I went to a wedding on Saturday for a friend of mine who I knew from high school. We were definitely friends then and had managed, more or less, to keep in semi consistent contact throughout the college years but I'll admit, I was kinda surprised when I got the invite. Anyway, it was a beautiful, hi tech, 'contemporary christian' wedding as it gets. (Interestingly enough, he found the exact same evangelical christian group on his college campus that I found on mine, which could have been enough of a connection...) Except for the headache I still had at that point, exacerbated by the flashing lights and loud dance music, that is. I found out that I had a hidden boccie ball talent I never knew about. He also had up a video camera where guests could step out of the reception and leave a message, personal, crazy, or a mildly inebriated mix of both. We did a group crazy one from high school, but I did go back and leave him a personal, dare I say even religiously inspirational, message to him and his new bride. It was probably one of the first times in the past year I've referred to anything remotely christian/religious.

My uncle came up in conversation again tonight. It's strange how from June-Sept his memory always seems to resurface just a little more than it would have any other time of the year. It's like there's still an indent in the fabric of life where he's missing from. Anyway, his first name was one of the pen-names I used in college when I was writing poetry I didn't want to have to explain to the fellowship. I sent the link to said poem to Dzia, whom I've had the greatest resurgence of a relationship with since we talked early last month, and she asked me to explain the name that I used. So I did, and I of course thought of my uncle, and then something hit me that I never quite thought of before. I was thinking about how much else I wish he could teach me, guitar, music, painting, drawing... when I realized he taught me something infinitely more valuable. Infinitely more personal. In that last day I spent with him, he taught me how to die.

As morbid as that may sound it gives me as much greater level of peace and contentment in the ongoing process of dealing with him being gone. Up until now, I think I felt a more significant touch of jealousy toward my cousins than I was aware of. They had learned music and art from him while I just got to see him on holidays and think on memories of watching in awe rather than being taught to participate with. (There was one time, only one, that I can ever remember participating musically with him to such a point where he looked at me and smiled, and took notice. Him, my cousins, and I broke out in Rufus Wainwright's Hallelujah for a reason now lost to time) That day I spent with him, watching the Yankees, talking about life and relationships, eating a whole pint of Strawberry Hagen Daaz.... all in the face of an inevitable amount of just days left... Maybe what I learned that day can't be accurately passed on in words, but to be able to breath just a little bit easier when the memory of him stirs this time next year will make all the difference.