Miscellaneus, Meandering Introspections (With A Song And Dance To Boot – OK Maybe Not A Dance.)

I’m stuck. I feel completely bogged down. My mind is cloudy. There are so many things that I want to be doing. So many things that I need to be doing, but I can’t seem to make any progress. Part of it is that the things I need to be doing I do not want to do.

I’m at work, of course. That’s where I should be in the middle of a Monday afternoon, but work is the farthest thing from my mind. I really need to get out of this job. I get absolutely no satisfaction from it whatsoever. There’s a lot of busy work that I could, of course do, but I’m just not interested in it. I have tasks that Douche Bag has given me to do, but I know he hasn’t thought of them again, and honestly, if they’re not any kind of priority to him, why should they be to me? Some of what he’s asked me to do, shouldn’t have been put on me in the first place, but as usual, he’s completely out of touch and doesn’t think about what he’s doing.

My mind is just full of random thoughts about what I want, where I want to be, how I want to change, what I’d like to be doing.

Last night I lay in bed, wide awake until about a quarter two, just staring at the ceiling and wishing. Wishing I wasn’t alone was a big part of it. Not just not lonely, but really not alone. For the first time that I can recall, I had this longing to be held. To be wrapped up in a pair of big, strong arms. Leaning back into a smooth, hard chest and listening to a deep, soothing voice whisper into my ear, that things were going to be OK. It wasn’t a sexual thing, although, I’m sure it would have lead to that. It was just a need to be taken care of and to know that I was not alone in life. Not alone in my world. That I was not going to spend my life that way. I felt so small and weak in those moments. So alone and unwanted and powerless to change it.

I spent some time this week-end, trying to think of ways to change my life. Things that I could do to try and find some fulfillment. All the things that I thought of, lead to feelings of fear and anxiety. Sickness even. I feel so overwhelmed. So desperate.

It’s not the depression, Per Se. I’m not in the same place I was in February when I had to take time off of work and attend an Intensive Outpatient Program to try and get my feet back under me. It’s hard to explain how it’s different, just that it is. I feel more like I’m on the verge of something and if I could just figure out what the next step is…

I’ve really enjoyed keeping this blog. I’ll admit that some entries have been better than others and I’m sure this one will end up at the bottom of the heap, but maybe if I can write out my thoughts I can begin to pull back the veil a little. The blog has been fun. I’m finding that I really enjoy writing and it’s something I would like to be able to do more of with more talent. I’ve often longed for a form of employment that doesn’t require a 9 to 5 scenario and that doesn’t require me to go to an office for a specified period or on a specified schedule. Something that allows me to work at my own pace (more or less) and is fulfilling to me. Oh, and something that pays well. I feel like writing could be that thing. But I don’t know what to do with that thought.

I’ve done some (read: not a lot of) research on the subject of writing classes but everything costs a lot of money. I’ve thought maybe I could just try submitting some random pieces to some newspapers and/or magazines but really I don’t know what that process entails, or whether they’re interested in such things. I don’t know the legalities of it all. Does my work belong to them if I sent it to them for consideration without prior arrangement of compensation or conditions? Do they want only things that are topical? And if so, how do I know what to write about and send them when I don’t know how publishing works, and, at least in the case of magazines, a few weeks will pass before current events are written about I could be perpetually behind the times.

I’m tired of working for a manager and an employer who doesn’t appreciate me. I realize this is a common affliction but I’ve never had it this bad before. My job is not important. It’s not important to me, certainly, but it’s not important to anyone else either. Douche Bag rarely pays attention to what I’m doing. He asks me to perform tasks that should be handed off to Unsvelt Girl Who Runs or most recently Fantastical Engineer and then the only time he pays any attention is when he’s complaining or “yelling” about something. It’s not that he’s abusive or hateful. It’s that he’s oblivious and ignorant.

There is absolutely no appreciation shown for my work. And I suppose, you might say my paycheck is appreciation enough, but you’d be wrong. It’s not appreciation enough. Don’t get me wrong. Appreciation without the pay check wouldn’t be enough either, but both are really needed in order to be gratified.

I don’t want my job to be my life. Unless it’s something really great and exciting like, writing best selling novels, or being a big movie star. And even if it were, I’d still want time away from the work. I’d still want friends who really want to see me, spend time with me. I’d still want to be somebody to somebody.

Somebody to somebody… I wonder if that’s really what this is all about. Just one real connection to make all the other shit in my life more tolerable… I’m thinking now of the song by Christina Aguilera:

“Somebody’s Somebody”

Watchin lovers walkin’
Hand in hand they pass me by
Wish I was one of them
Wish I had somebody
Wakin’ up beside me
Looking into my eyes at night
I want a love to call my own
I want someone that I can hold
Want someone wanting me
Wanna feel how it feels to be

Somebody’s somebody
Someone’s someone
Some sweet lover’s lover
I wanna be that one
Someone faithful to someone faithful
Someone kind to someone kind to me
Somebody to somebody who loves me
Who loves me

Spending all of my time
Spending all my time with me
Where is that someone who
I can give my time to
Searching for that lover
With the love that will change my life
I want two arms to hold me close
I want the thing I need the most
Somebody needing me
So I can feel how it feels to be

Somebody’s somebody
Someone’s someone
Some sweet lover’s lover
I wanna be that one
Someone faithful to someone faithful
Someone kind to someone kind to me
Somebody to somebody who loves me
Who loves me

What I’m looking for
Is someone to love me more
Than I’ve been loved before
With love so right
What I need to find
Is someone to hold me tight
What I mean is I want to be

Somebody’s somebody
Someone’s someone
Some sweet lover’s lover
I wanna be that one
Someone faithful to someone faithful
Someone kind to someone kind to me
Somebody to somebody who loves me
Who loves me

Somebody’s somebody
Somebody’s somebody
Somebody’s somebody
Somebody’s somebody
I wish I was
Somebody’s baby

God, I hate the way I’m sounding right now. I’m not a needy person, or at least I never thought I was. Come to think of it, Green M&Ms mother once told me she thought I was needy, right before she physically assaulted me (there’s a story for another time). But that’s the only time I can remember anyone ever defining me that way and I don’t think it’s true. I’m also not a clinger. I don’t need to hang all over my significant other at every free moment of the day. ‘Course that may stem from the fact that the public displays of affection I’ve been a part of previously never did feel quite right, and any consideration I may have had to public displays of affection with someone who would feel right (a man) were verboten to say the least and more likely to be dangerous. Before now anyway.

No, I’m not needy and I’m not clingy and I’m not desperate, at least not in the way it’s usually stated. I’m not the type to latch on to any man who’ll look my direction, just for the sake of having a little physical contact. I want a real, lasting love with a man who will wake up beside me. Who will look into my eyes at night. Someone who will be faithful, who will want me. Someone who will change my life. I do want two arms to hold me close and I’m beginning to think the thing I need the most really is someone who needs me, because it’s not just a one sided proposition. I need to be held and loved and taken care of. But I need to do those things for someone else, too.

I’ve always heard people say that you have to be happy by yourself before you can be happy with anyone else. I’ve always chosen to believe that because it’s easier than facing the feeling that no one wants me. But I don’t believe that. In fact, I kind of feel like, you need to have an emptiness, albeit just a little bit. You need to be lacking in some way. You need to have a whole in your life, in your heart, that can only be filled by a significant other. Not by any random other. Not by a just-for-tonight other, but by a significant other who will be those things you need him to be and for whom you can fill the empty places as well. To quote a movie (and up the cheese factor a bit) you need someone who will “complete” you.

Maybe a lot of my emptiness is about being without one special person in my life who will mean everything and to whom I will mean everything. Maybe if I had that special someone to share my life with, all the trials of the day would seem like less of a burden because I’d know there was someone waiting for me at home. Maybe I’d be stronger and more able to face the rest of my fears if I had someone who was in my corner, rooting for me all the way. I don’t know.

So I lie in bed and I think about this conundrum. I need a man in my life. I need someone who will be all these things for me and for whom I can do the same… But how do I meet someone to share my life with when I don’t meet people at all? When I’m afraid of meeting people. When I’m literally scared sick of even the thought of exposing myself to situations where I might.

Insightful Therapist (I talk about her often enough, I decided it was time she had a kitschy nom de plume) has suggested a few things that all amount to social gatherings. I made the mistake a year or so ago of telling her that I thought my drinking was “a bit out of hand”, and she’s been on an AA kick ever sense. She thinks that going to a meeting such as that would be a good opportunity for me to learn that there are other people in the world who have had similar experiences as I. And that I can find other coping mechanisms besides drinking (I thought that was what I paid her for.) She’s also suggested a coming out support group. Something I have considered, and honestly since November 4, I’m more willing to do, but I’ve come up with exactly nothing as far as information and resources on the subject. I’m sure I could probably ask her for something but if I ask her, that kind of puts me on the spot to follow through.

But even in looking for the resources to consider the possibility… Sick to my stomach… Every time. I don’t really understand why it is that I have such a physical reaction to the fears that come up around this. If I’m rational about it, I know nothing physically harmful will happen and I might gain something from it. But there is a lot of emotional damage that could be done. A lot of harm to my self esteem that could come from it. And then you add the bonus fear and shame of having to publicly confess to something that I’ve kept locked away inside me for so many years (“I’m an alcoholic” or “I’m gay”) and it becomes too much for me.

So to those of you who’ve made it this far into this post, I apologize for the self-pittying, mopy, drivel. I didn’t really set out to do that… Then again, I didn’t really know what I did set out to do. For those of you who’ve gotten this far, and have an opinion, I’d honestly like to hear it. Please leave your feed-back in the comments, and if you have any resourses you’d like to share, I’d be grateful for those as well.

A Turning Point, Part 1

If you read this post then you know that there has been trouble brewing in my relationship with Vengeful Mother for a very long time.  What follows is a re-visitation of what brought that trouble to the fore:

In September of 2004 I was halfway through my third year working for The Company that Created the HMO (just ask ’em) and I had been working as an “Assistant Project Coordinator.”  This was a title that was very much a misnomer as, I hadn’t coordinated any projects.  I was really a lot of things.  I was in charge of safety training for the building.  I had oversight of our Janitorial Contractor.  I was the de facto supervisor of my office when the Facility Services Manager (Douche Bag) was out, I was the guy that everyone came to when they had questions or concerns or needed information.  I was “the man”.  I had been told by Fantastical Engineer that, if The Company that Created the HMO had such a job title, I’d essentially be the Assistant Facility Manager.

Douche Bag had been working on promoting me, but there were some issues that were complicating things.  The promotion he was trying to give me was to “Project Coordinator” (logically).  Only problem was there was a $10,000+ difference between my salary and the minimum salary of that position which meant a 24% raise, which was not going to happen.  At the time it was looking like my choices were to accept the promotion with a 10% raise which would make my salary more than $6000.00 less than the minimum (and I’d never catch up) or they’d attempt to put the promotion through with a 15% raise and  be only $4000.00 short.  But, there was no guarantee that raise would be approved and then they couldn’t resubmit it for 10% meaning I’d been screwed out of the promotion entirely.  In retrospect I realize that might have been the best thing but at the time it certainly didn’t seem that way.  When all was said and done, I was promoted to “Project Specialist” which was in intermediate step that DB didn’t even know about, and I received a 14.5% raise that put me into the appropriate salary range for that position.  Before that happened I was really praying for something to come through and looking for support.  I’d had previous conversations with Vengeful Mother about it and wanted to fill her in on what the developments were.  This conversation took place, via instant message on September 15, 2004:

Self: So the latest is, I get 10% now, I’m still eligible for a merit increase at the end of the year and in march the position gets reviewed and I get bumped up whatever amount to get me to the minimum.  Nothing is definite yet.  Nothing is in writing yet.  But that’s what it looks like.  With the paperwork he’ll (Douche Bag) be submitting a 90 day action plan and goals for me to accomplish in the first 6 months.  If for any reason the position doesn’t get reviewed and bumped up, he can give me an evaluation and another 10% raise.

Vengeful Mother: Sounds like something we can get into agreement about.  Of course you can count on me to say this but…  At the same time you should be plugging the leaks in your blessing dam by getting into church and beginning to tithe and give and so forth.

This is an old song and dance and I just couldn’t take it anymore:

Self: Yep.  I know I can count on you.

VM: Do you understand that I’m right?

Self: What do you expect me to say?

VM: I expect you to answer my question.

Self: Well, I know that’s what we’ve heard all my life, but honestly?  I haven’t seen a whole lot of proof of it.  Not just in my life.  In yours too.  And in Dead Beat Dad’s.  And in CPA Sis’s.

VM: Is the Word of God proof enough?  If nobody else in the world manages to get it right (but many have), it doesn’t change the Word of God or His faithfulness.  We could argue all day about what you’ve seen with your eyes and experienced in your life – But the bottom line decision you (and every one of us) have to make is whether you will take God at his Word and move forward accordingly.  It’s very hard to believe God for His blessings on our lives, when our hearts condemn us because it knows we are not wholehearted in our pursuit of serving Him.  You’re an adult now.  You’re responsible before God for your own life.  Not for somebody Else’s.  As for me, I will never stop seeking to do better at it.  To overcome the things in my background and my subconscious and whatever else is involved that hinder me from victory.

Self: That’s not what I’m saying.  And I’m not saying it’s not true.  But the fact is, I’ve grown up watching you right your tithe check every week.  And at the same time I watched you struggle every day to make ends meet.  I’m not saying that tithing is a bad thing but when it comes down to $50.00 to either get you through the week or give away and never see again and struggle the rest of the week…

VM: I know what you’re saying.  The bottom line question remains the same.  And it isn’t to me you have to answer it.  It’s before God and in your everyday life–

Self: You’re the one that insists on asking me on a daily basis.

VM: What you don’t understand is that, without that tithe, we would have gone under long ago.  You have to decide for yourself.  I’m only trying to remind you.  Redemption is an ongoing process that happens every day of our lives for as long as we live on this earth.  The degree to which it is able to work for us is the degree to which we cooperate with the process by seeking to understand and do the things God has laid out for us in His Word.  I love you and I want to see the best in your life.

Self: Well, what you don’t understand is that I’m working on it every day.  I’m trying very hard but it’s not an easy proposition.  And you really don’t help me.

VM: “Working on it” and “trying very hard”, are so much easier when we put ourselves under the teaching of the Word.  That’s why I want to see you go to church.

Self: You don’t seem to realize though that when you say things like this you make me feel inadequate.  Like you have no confidence in me or in the job you did in raising me.  And that’s a set-back for me.

VM: Dont’ be silly.  You KNOW I have confidence in you, and you know I believe in the way I raised you.  Just put that nonsense aside and understand that putting you in remembrance, as the Apostle Paul put it, is a thing that is good for you.  We all need it, and we are all to do it for each other.

Self: No I don’t.  I never have–

VM: Well you should.  I’ve told you many times.

Self: I don’t even know what I’m supposed to say to that.  Words are one thing.  Actions are another.  You wouldn’t let any of us go to our Senior Prom’s because you felt like the point was to “put young people in the mood.”  But you couldn’t accept that you had raised us better.  You’ve been unsupportive of every potential degree choice I’ve ever had, because you didn’t think I could do it and stay faithful.  You were critical of my choice to live in San Francisco because of the gay community.  And this conversation that we’ve had part of over and over again.  You can say you have confidence but you don’t show it.  You have no idea how much that hurts me.

At this point she had to take a phone call at work and by the time she returned to me I was away from my desk.  When I returned she had signed off her IM but I found the following message waiting for me:

VM: Well.  I’m really sorry you feel that way.  I’m telling you now.  You’ll have to believe me or not.  The choice is yours.  But you do need to forgive and forget a lot of things.  That much is obvious.  You can’t keep nursing grudges and hurt feelings.  They just get bigger and bigger and more and more crippling over time.

And you need to try and see my side of it as well.  It would be much easier for me to not be concerned about you if I knew you were involved in things that build you up spiritually.  You’re no different from anyone else.  The fact that I’m concerned about you is no reflection on you personally.  NO ONE can remove himself from spiritual nourishment and not suffer from it.  And the simple truth is that the Word of God commands us not to neglect “the assembly of [ourselves] together” especially “as [we] see the day [of the return of Christ] approaching.”

It isn’t fair for you to try to say that if I have confidence in you I have to believe that there’s no way you can fall prey to the things that Satan has in place to trip you up or rob you of God’s blessings.  Or to say that if I admonish or remind you of these things it means I don’t have confidence in you.  Neither of those things is true.  I love you.  I have great confidence in you and I’m constantly amazed at your abilities and things you do.

I e-mailed the following response to Vengeful Mother knowing it’d go over by a Lead Balloon, which was, in fact the title of the e-mail:

First of all, you need to understand that I’m not holding any grudges.  I suppose I can understand why you would say that, but that’s no the case.  When I gave the examples I gave, it was simply that, giving examples.  I learned a long time ago not to make sweeping generalizations (especially within this family) without supporting data.  As far as “forgive and forget” goes, I don’t even know what that means.  Forgiveness is a choice and I’ve made that choice over and over again with a lot of people in my life for as long as I can remember.  Forgetting on the other hand doesn’t make any sense to me.  One can’t control what they can and can’t (or do and don’t) remember.  I always assume that scripture to mean that you don’t hold it against someone.  In practical application, I suppose that makes sense, but the reality is that if you pretend it didn’t happen (as is what that scripture implies) than you just leave yourself open to be hurt and taken advantage of over and over again.  So how do you “forgive and forget” but still guard your heart and yourself and not be abused?

You said, “It would be much easier for me not to be concerned about you if I knew you were involved in things that build you up spiritually.“, which in and of itself is a criticism.  You went on to say, “You’re no different from anyone else.  The fact that I’m concerned about you is no reflection on you personally.”  I’d have to disagree with that.  I know you can’t talk to everyone the way you talk to me.  People who aren’t your children and obligated to let you say whatever you want, wouldn’t have it.  At least not as constantly and relentlessly as it has been with me.

NO ONE can remove himself from spiritual nourishment and not suffer from it.”  How in the world can you make the assumption that I get no spiritual nourishment?  You don’t know what I do, or how I spend my time.  You don’t know what I read, or how much time I spend praying or how often I listen to praise and worship music.  And you certainly don’t know where my heart is or how I feel.  The fact is that I do read the books I got at Rhema.  I do read my Bible.  I spent more than a year reading the Bible cover to cover with no interruptions.  I’m not ignorant on the subject.  And I often listen to my RS&B CDs as well as other Praise and Worship CDs.  I’m not saying that’s a substitution for going to church, but as far back as I can remember I haven’t gotten any more out of going to church than I have out of these activities.

And I’m sorry, but it isn’t fair for you to say to me that, “It isn’t fair for [me] to try to say that if [you] have confidence in [me] [you] have to believe that there’s no way [I] can fall prey to the things that Satan has in place to trip [me] up and rob [me] of God’s blessings.”  Because I didn’t say that.  But if you had faith in me, you would assume the best of me instead of assuming the worst.  And you wouldn’t feel the need to constantly make comments and assumptions.  Or, at least you shouldn’t.

What really upsets me about this is I don’t know how to make you understand.  You have no idea the kind of power you hold over me.  It’s hard for me to believe it myself, but it’s true.  You affect everything I do.  My first thought is always, “I wonder what Mom would think”, or “I should tell Mom about this.”  But much of the time, “what Mom would think” is negative.  You don’t realize that I have lived my life for you.  And I know you won’t believe or understand it, but it’s true.  My whole life has been about making you happy and getting your unconditional love and approval and support.  I’ve waited and waited for that, for you to realize it and give me what I need, but it just doesnt’ happen.

That doesn’t mean I don’t believe you love me.  I know you do.  And I know you did the best you could raising us.  I don’t fault you for that in any way.  But just like you don’t know my heart, I can’t know yours.  All I can go by is your actions and your actions have always said that you don’t have faith in me and that you don’t have faith in the job you did of raising me.  If you did have faith in the job you did of raising me, you’d trust that I know what’s right and be a person you could be proud of.  And by the way, just for the sake of clarity, I’m not talking about your confidence in me and my abilities on a physical level.  I’m talking about your confidence in me spiritually and morally.

The thing that bothers me the most about this whole thing is that after having a heartfelt discussion about myself and my feelings and emotions, you simply disregarded them as invalid and proceeded to do the same thing that I just finished telling you was hurting me.  The simple fact that I said, “You have no idea how much that hurts me” should have had some impact.  But it seems you’re more concerned with believing that you’re right and “knowing” that you’re doing the best thing, than you are with how much I need your love and support, not by way of telling me what I should be doing or where I fall short, but by showing with your every action how much you love me and believe in me, just the way I am.

It saddens me to think that I have laid all this bare for you, and I think I know that you will not believe or accept it as accurate.  I wish I knew just the right thing to say to make it so that you will.  But when it’s all said and done, I guess all I can say is, I’ve told you the truth.  I’ve told you how I feel and what I need.  Beyond that I don’t know what to expect.

More of this riveting (I’m sure) story to follow.

I Have a Love/Hate Relationship with My iPhone.

When the iPhone first came out, I scoffed at the whole thing.  The lines, the outrageous price tag, the low capacity, the having everything in one device, everything.  Majority got one when they first came out and Unsvelt Girl Who Runs went on and on about how cool they were (but she didn’t get one).  I already had a 60G iPod that I’d gotten a year earlier and a cell phone that was old and worn out and needed to be replaced but didn’t have to cost $500.00 to do so.  I just didn’t think it made sense to buy an iPhone.

And then HE came in.  He is beautiful.  Must be nearly seven feet tall, but might as well be 20.  Slim, rugged good looks, soothing soft spoken voice and noticeably lacking in the abject pretension that I’ve grown accustomed to dealing with in my company.  Also, he’s black, so if the stereotype holds…  Perhaps I’d never go back.  And again, he has children, (I assume a wife) and he’s probably straight as a rule– well, a yard stick.  None the less, the day get’s a little brighter when he walks in the door.  He works for our in-house construction “company” and is, therefor, someone I deal with regularly. (Sidebar:  Hmmm.  Fantastical Engineers, Adorable Little Contractors and Beautiful Construction Workers!  I seem to like the rugged ones don’t I?  Don’t know what that’s about…  Anyway!)

The first conversation I ever remember having with him was about his iPhone.  He had an iPod Nano attached to his shirt, and an iPhone in his pocket.  We discussed the fact that he doesn’t put his music on his iPhone.  “Then what’s the point,” I wondered.  He told me how he’d dropped his first iPhone down an elevator shaft, and though he had paid so much money for it, and though they don’t offer replacement plans for them he “had” to have another one.  And then he let me play with it.

Nice as it might be, there was no double entendre there. I played with his iPhone for a few minutes.  After that, I was hooked.  That very day I ran out, with my “new cell phone fund” and bought my very own 16G iPhone.  I couldn’t wait to get it home and activate it and load it up and have my new functioning iPhone.  Activation was a piece of cake.  I had my phone service switched to the new phone in less than 10 minutes.  I love my iPhone.  The music on the other hand was a nightmare. I hate my iPhone.

I started to sync my music and it was dragging.  Taking several seconds for each song.  It loaded about 300 songs (I have over 3000) and it errored out.  I hate my iPhone.  I restarted it and it picked up where it left off.  This time it ws going faster (I love my iPhone) but it still was taking hours.  When I finally gave up to go to bed, I found that it still had about 800 songs to go.  I left it to finish and I went to bed. I hate my iPhone.

Out of my 300+ albums, my iTunes has located album art for all but about 12-15 of them.  I was looking forward to listening to my new iPhone, and enjoying the larger view of the album art and the “cover flow” feature.  Imagine my dismay when I picked up my phone the next morning and found that only the first 300 songs had album art and all the rest of the albums had the “no art” graphic of the music notes. I love my iPhone.  I hate my iPhone.

I had no time to deal with it, I had to go to work.  I would try again that evening.  That evening the exact same thing happened.  This time I was determined to babysit it!  I was awake until after 2:00 in the morning, only to find that the exact same scenario played out again.  I hate my iPhone.  So I did what any one would do.  I called in sick to work so I could fix it.  🙂 Any excuse not to go to work.  I love my iPhone!

I ended up having to uncheck all the music in my library and then recheck them a group at a time (I did alphabetically) and sync it and then resync it and then re-resync it, over and over again until I had all the music on my iPhone with the album art.  I hate my iPhone.  It took a lot of jumping through hoops to do it but once it was set up it was great and I loved my new iPhone. I was even rational enough to know that I was dealing with an Apple product and it was only a matter of time before something bigger and better (and cheaper) came out.  This was in April.  I didn’t know then about the 3G model, but I knew it was only a matter of time…

So it came as no surprise when I heard about the “twice as fast for half the price” 16G iPhone 3G.  And then I found out about the 2.0 version of the software for my archaic iPhone.  It’s new and exciting! Of course I had to load it up!

I did not know that this new software would wipe my iPhone clean and then take hours to load.  This was yet another overnight endeavor.  I hate my iPhone.  But when it was done all my music was there, and I had the Apps store!  I lay in bed for three hours that Saturday morning, surfing the apps store, and loading every free application I thought I might even be sort of interested in, I could always delete them later if I wanted to.  I love my iPhone.  Downloading software version 2.0 was the worst thing I’ve ever done with my iPhone.  It’s just been one problem after another!  I hate my iPhone!

A month or two ago, there was an update to the software.  Version 2.0.2.  I went ahead and downloaded that because it must only be an improvement, right?  Now my updates won’t download.  The Apps store tells me there are updates and right now I have this lovely little red circle with a white 5 in it hovering over the corner of my Apps Store button.  But if I try to install the updates it tells me that I’ve already “purchased” this application and that if I’m having trouble downloading the App, I should select “check for purchases” in iTunes.  I hate my iPhone.  When I follow these instructions I get an error message from iTunes telling me that some of my Applications couldn’t load because there was an “unknown error”.  I’ve gotten this message before, and the number of applications not loading properly is growing.  I hate my iPhone.

So last night, for the third or fourth time, I connected my iPhone to my computer to try and resolve this issue with iTunes.  For the second time, iTunes reflected the 10+G of music I have as “other”.  I disconnected my iPhone from my computer and went into the iPod function.  “You have not loaded any music.” it says. (I’m sure I’m paraphrasing.)  Bullshit I didn’t load any music.  I don’t have 12G of “other” on here.  So I had to restore my iPhone.  I hate my iPhone. I have had to “restore” my iPhone on three separate occasions, and the only good thing I can say is that the first two times my music reloaded with no issues.  (I love my iPhone?)

I started the restore process on my iPhone last night at around 5:30 p.m.  iTunes loaded about 300 songs and errored out.  I looked in iPod and the music was there but with no album art.  I restarted the sync and it picked up where it left off.  I hate my iPhone.  I went to bed at 12:30 a.m. and it was still syncing.  I hate my iPhone.  I got up at 7:00 this morning and looked at my computer.  No longer syncing.  I wasn’t sure if it was done or not so I restarted the sync and it started loading music again.  It had over 800 of my over 3000 songs to load.  I walked away and started my morning routine.  When I left for work at 8:20 it had only loaded about 120 songs.  I had to manually stop it so I could leave.  I hate my iPhone.

Ironically, all the music it loaded in my second attempt last night, and my third attempt this morning does have album art.  I love my iPhone a little bit.  The first three hundred songs however, have no album art.  I’ll have to uncheck those albums resync my phone, let it delete those albums and sync the last 700+ songs and then recheck those albums and resync it again!  If all goes well, it’ll load all the remaining music and all the album art that goes with it.  If all does not go well, I may pull a Russell Crowe and throw my iPhone at the head of one of the “Geniuses”.  I hate my iPhone.

For those of you keeping score at home, there are far more hates than there are loves.  But at $500.00, I better love the hell out of my iPhone.

The truth is, I love my iPhone.  I really love the concept of my iPhone.  And if and when they get all these bugs worked out, I will petition the state of California for a marriage license for me and my iPhone.  But until that happens, my iPhone is my bitch!  It complicates my life.  It’s uncooperative.  It points and laughs at me.  And it tells me that I’ll never be truely happy.

Come to think of it, I think I am my iPhone’s bitch.

Bathroom Transformation Day Nine

Nine days down, one day to go.  Today finds the tile in, the walls painted, the vanity in position and the basin and counter in place, the faucet installed (though not yet functioning), and the lighting fixture in place.  Take a look:

Tomorrow is supposed to be the last day of the main project:  The sink gets plumbed in.  The fixures (i.e. towel rods, toilet paper dispenser, etc.) get installed.  The mirror and storage cupboard get hung.  I hope the door, door frame, window frame and shutters get painted, and the door rehung.  And there’s still a few baseboard tiles to get grout.  Friday Adorable Little Contractor is off to Oregon.  I still don’t have a shower curtain rod, or a makeshift shower curtain.

Wheeler Dealer Land Lady was referred to a showroom where she should be able to find an existing shower curtain rod.  But apparently, it won’t be installed until Monday, September 15th.  So I’m looking at over a week of using the trickle at the office.  The charm has definitely worn off…  Not that I didn’t get myself a good wank in their anyway, but the new has worn off and without some company, it’s just not what it could be.  Today I revisited the Fantastical Engineer services me and my undercarriage while I rub one out on his shiny bald head fantasy.  I need to come up with something new…

Anyway, someone from a company called “Mr. Bathtub” is coming on Saturday, September 13, 2008 to “redo” my bathtub.  I don’t really know what that means, I just know that my bath tub is supposed to be shiny and pristine and new looking so it will fit in with the rest of the newly redone bathroom!

Adorable Little Contract comes back on September 15th to hang the shower curtain rod, grout the gap between the tub and the tile and resolve any open items that haven’t been solved.

It’s kind of funny, but there’s a part of me that is sad that it’s ending.  Scared kitty will be glad it’s over as he has been spending his days locked up in the kitchen with no soft furniture to sleep on and where it gets somewhat steamy.  But I can’t have him roaming free while ALC is trying to do his work and often needs to leave the front door open.  I admit that I expected to see more of ALC.  I got the impression from him at the beginning of this endeavor that he’d be working long days and that I’d see him, probably before I left for work and almost certainly when I got home.  In a strange way, when this first started, I almost felt like I had a husband to come home too (and I could certainly have done worse.)  I expected more discussions about schedules and when we’d see each other and the like.  I guess, truthfully I’m grateful that we didn’t interact more, since his presence is a disruption for me, but I hoped for more contact.

The more I think about it, the more I think he very well might be a Friend of Dorothy.  I recall that his use of pronouns (In his limited discussion about himself) never went beyond “we”.  He never talked about “she” or “my wife” or “my girlfriend”.  Though, admittedly he also never talked about a boyfriend or husband.  It has been extremely hot these last two weeks and I don’t have air conditioning which means that it’s been quite hot in my house while he works.  I’ve seen him in shorts twice now – he has great calves – and he seems not to have much (if any) hair on his legs either.  He’s as “average white” as I am so it’s not like he’s likely of a heritage that doesn’t grow much body hair.  I do believe he’s blond (he always wears a baseball hat) but not super light to where his body hair should be unnoticeable… Of course I realize there are all kinds of simple explanations for this that don’t make him gay, but then again, maybe he is…  He has a great little ass and small waist too!

Tonight, as I was gathering the ingredients for my dinner, my front door open but outer gate closed and locked and with me wearing no clothes, I daydreamed/fantasized about him coming back to the house to do more work and letting himself in never expecting to find me naked.  My fantasy didn’t go beyond the awkward…

ALC: Oh!  I’m sorry, I didn’t realize…

Me: Oh my God.  I didn’t’ think…  I’m sorry…  I’ll just go put some clothes on…  Unless…  Well, unless you like what you see, in which case I won’t… ‘Cause I’ve been thoroughly enjoying what I’ve been seeing…

The fantacy didn’t go beyond that point, but wouldn’t it have been nice…

Bathroom Transformation Day Six

Somewhat surprisingly, Adorable Little Contractor came back today to lay the tile for the floor.  He told me yesterday that it would be a half-day job.  He showed up at around 9:30 this morning and was here until about 6:15 this evening.

 

The tile is fragile and the floor was put in, in a diamond pattern so there was a lot of cutting to be done.  It took a lot longer than ALC had expected.  The tile is in and glued down but the grout won’t go in till Monday morning. 

The shower curtain issue is sort of resolved.  ALC hung a curtain of thick plastic from the ceiling by staples so that i could use the shower.  But the guy who is making the curtain rod won’t be here till “sometime” next week to see what’s needed and who knows how long it’ll take to fabricate and be installed.  Meanwhile, Adorable Little Contractor wants to do the painting on Tuesday, which should include the ceiling so I’m not sure what that will mean for me and my ability to shower at home. 

Today was the day I was hoping to avoid in that this was the day he had to take the toilet out.  It was out of commission for about 8 hours.  I actually ended up peeing in the kitchen sink once.  Shhh!  Don’t tell anybody.  Wasn’t my ideal choice but what was I to do?  I have no idea what Adorable Little Contractor did about his needs, but I can’t help but wonder… or wish I’d been there.

I went out for a while and met up with a couple frineds to go to a movie.  Went to see Disaster Movie.  It was stupid funny as can be.  I love stupid funny, usually.  The last “stupid funny, spoof” movie I saw was Remember The Spartans.  THAT movie sucked in my opinion.  This movie was pretty good.  And it stars Matt Lanter who I have thought was delicious ever since he was on Comander in Chief.  Got me pretty horney!  Come to think of it, I still haven’t done anything about that! 

I was a little worried when I came home and Adorable Little Contractor was still working on the floor and hadn’t put the toilet back.  It’s amazing how much you “need” something when you definately can’t have it.  Fortunately, he was finished about an hour or so later and when I was in need of the toilet, it was ready and waiting. 

Anyway, Adorable Contractors, Sexy Movie Actors, Fantastical Engineers…  I think I need to get LAID!!!

Bathroom Transformation Day Five

Not a lot of news to tell tonight.  Good Progress, but not big news.

The tile in the shower has been sealed and my shower head has been mounted again.  The black plastic is hung form the ceiling as a temporary shower curtain.  It’ll be another week or two before the new shower curtain rod is fabricated and installed.

The floor has been “floated” and Adorable Little Contractor is coming back tomorrow to put in the floor tile.  This also means the toilet has to come out which means there’ll be no toilet at my disposal while he’s doing the work.  He will put the toilet back in at the end of every day, but as long as I’m not hanging around the house while he’s working that won’t be a problem.  Since tomorrow is Saturday, however, that may be a problem.  I may have to find somewhere else to be tomorrow…

Today he also took out the medicine cabinet and in wall toilet paper dispenser.  He also installed the second electrical outlet that I requested on the far side of where the vanity will be.  I’ve made the final selection on the paint and he plans to paint on Tuesday.

I’m glad to have the use of my shower back.  The shower at work was growing tiresome.  As I said yesterday, I believe ever good day starts with a good wank, but it was more of the same.  Same fantasy about the same engineer.  Same trickle of water, meant to provide the cleansing desired from taking a shower in the first place.  It was fun for a time, but now I’m glad I won’t need to use that shower anymore.

Bathroom Transformation Day Four – Now THAT’S What I Call Progress!

Major progress today!  Remember this?

Today, it looks like this. 

Dry wall is in, tile is up, and grouted.  Tomorrow it gets sealed and tomorrow night the shower should be whole.  My only concern is that the issue of the shower curtain rod has not been resolved.  Since my shower only has two walls instead of three, I need a shower curtain rod that turns and covers the other two sides.  Wheeler Dealer Landlady was saying she’d probably have to have one custom fabricated and in the meantime I can just keep using the one that was already here.  That’s fine, except that if the mounting mechanism is different in anyway, then there could end up being extraneous holes in the new marble tile, and that would be tragic.

On a side note, I was hoping this renovation would include building a third side to the shower surround but apparently there isn’t enough space between the tub and the toilet to build the wall and still be code compliant.  Oh well, it was worth a shot.

I probably still won’t be able to use the shower until some time Saturday, but at least we’re making progress on that.  Using the shower at work has been fun, exciting and arousing all at the same time…  But it’s also been a pain in the ass.  There’s just not enough water pressure and I feel a bit exposed there.  I also don’t feel like I’m getting rinsed as well as I like when I’m washing off the soap because of the low pressure.  I have a hand held shower head/massager/do-hickey.  I really like having the control as to where the water is aimed and the intensity of the spray.  The hardest, most focused setting feels pretty damn good while I’m rinsing my sphincter.  Definitely not getting that while I’m using the trickle er, uh– Shower at work.  Wheeler Dealer Landlady has bought some pretty nice fixtures for my new bathroom so I’m going to give those a try before I go back to my hand held shower head but I assume even the new shower head she bought will have more pressure than this thing at work.

I’m a firm believer that every good day starts with a good wank, so I took advantage of the unusual circumstances with the shower at work again.  I gotta say, I doubt that I’m the only guy who has used that shower and has jerked off while there.  The really kinky, nasty side of me really got off on the idea that I was just adding to the… shall we say, gene pool.  Of course I’m sure the shower has been cleaned since the last time someone besides me rubbed one out in there, but it adds to the fantasy, I guess.  And speaking of fantasies…  My Fantastical Engineer, played a role again this morning.  He’s an Asian man.  He shaves his head.  And he’s about 8 inches shorter than I am.  I fantasized this morning about him servicing me.  Using his mouth to bring me to the brink, and then putting some time into my…  Undercarriage seems like a good word…  And while he was doing that, I jerked it till I came, blowing my load all over his smooth, freshly shorn head.  What a blast!  Too bad he wasn’t there to enjoy it!

Hmmm.  I seem to have gotten a bit side tracked…  Albeit a good side track.

So where was I…  Ah yes, the bathroom.  I’m thrilled with the progress Adorable Little Contractor has made today.  It feels like things are really starting to come together now.  I narrowed down my paint selections today.  There are three options of three different shades that I’ve narrowed it down to.  It doesn’t show up very well, but the sample in this picture is the most likely choice at this point. 

I’m not especially thrilled that the border pieces of the tile are far whiter than the squares, but I don’t guess there’s anything to be done about it now.

It’s not terrible but it’s not great either.  Maybe it’ll stand out less once the project is done.

The paint sample is called Livingston Olive, a light olive color.  I was not at all sure about it at Home Depot, and when Unsvelt Girl and I went to the Expo today to look at the samples against the console, it was the third choice and Unsvelt Girl thought it was too yellow.  I ended up having to come by the house right after that (Scared Kitty, somehow liberated himself from the kitchen and I had to rectify the problem.)  While we were here, I taped the samples up to the wall.  Next to the tile and in the natural sunlight it was a completely different color.  It was suddenly first choice!

Moving on.  Remember this?  Today, it looks like this… 

The medicine cabinet is also coming out.  There will be a larger mirror over the vanity and there will be a second outlet on the other side of the vanity.  The new vanity is taller than the old one but the back splash will be standard four-ish inches above the surface.  So there will be some wall repair to be done.

The next obvious step for this area is to tile, grout and seal the floor before Adorable Little Contractor can bring in the new vanity and hook up the plumbing.  The other two paint samples are in the top right corner of this picture, and while you can’t get a great look at those either, you can see that they are darker than the first choice.  The real deciding factor will be when the floor is done and the vanity is in.  The tile on the floor and the slab on top of the vanity are all the same as the shower so between that and the large window, I’d think there’d be a lot of light, however, the vanity is a dark stained wood….  Decisions, decision…