My Mumbling Thoughts

I feel so refreshed. Ten hours of straight sleep will do that to anyone. I'm so awake and feeling good that I actually took the time to blow dry my hair this morning and style it.

Before I go on about the concert and yack on and on about the fabulous time that we had, I must let you in on something amazing. I have never used this feature, but have heard of it and now as I currently type up this post, I am jamming out to Franz Ferdinand's entire album. Before it comes out in stores! Isn't technology great? Enjoy.

Now...the concert.

We had perfect concert weather. Warm, but not too warm, a slight breeze and not a cloud in the sky. Just glowing sun that forced everyone to smile, no matter how sad, and show off their pearly whites.

Mel and I stopped by the house and quickly got changed into concert outfits. I certainly couldn't rock out in my black high heels. I could try, but would more than likely fail miserably. We had two water bottles getting cold in the refridgerator and remembered from the last time just how dehydrated we were. Of course it was a million degrees hotter, but we also took into account that there was going to be a lot of screaming and our throats may like to have some water every so often from going completely dry and hoarse.

Once we made it over to Mendy's house we had to run over to Costco for some pictures that she had developed from when Ash was here and then we grabbed some food from Chevy's. They were both mmm mmm good.

Eventually we got into the car and began to make our way up to Merriweather. I got a little worried with the traffic that was staring at us in the face but as soon as we got the White Stripe's CDs going all was well. It was then that it finally hit me that we were really going to be seeing them live. I love it when that feeling washes over me. The actual realization that yes, this will be happening and no, I won't be dreaming.

It turned out that we didn't even really need to be rushing. It looked like three people had parked before us. There wasn't a line, people were just chilling, and we got a kick ass parking spot. There wasn't any fighting or waiting like the first time and I wasn't complaining.

After we hiked up the longest and steepest walkway to have our bags and tickets checked, we kind of just hung out and took notice at how empty everything was. It felt wrong. How come people weren't here sooner? It's the White Stripes for goodness sake! Then we thought, "well, if nobody still comes when they start performing, we're getting closer. Much closer."

We found our seats and they were directly in the middle. A little bit closer than The Killers and Keane, but nicer. We wouldn't be viewing anything at an angle. We had about an hour to kill and we quickly got bored. Mendy whipped out some homework reading that she had while Mel and I played, "find the beer" and "guess this artist" on Merriweather's big screens. They soon became predictable though.

A little while later, a guy who looked exactly like Jack White sat in front of us. He had it all; the red cowboy shirt, the jet black hair, and even that weird goatee/mustache/caterpillar thing that he likes to sport. Mendy tried to snap a picture of him without looking suspicious but they all came out blurry.

Then, the lights dimmed on the stage, the crowd that had gathered began to cheer, and the first act came out. It was M Ward. I had never heard of him, but out he came out with his hat that covered his entire face. He rocked out a guitar solo before he introduced the two other members of his band. I don't know the girl's name who took drum playing to a whole different level, but she made me want to learn how to play the drums just like her. It was really good and nice to tap my fingers to.

The Shins came out shortly after them and I danced along in my seat as they played. I had heard of them before, but never gave them a proper listen. I know now for sure that I will be enjoying the soothing sounds of The Shins. Their music glides along nicely and they all have distinguished personalities that add to their live performance. I fell in love and scraped my knees in the process.

It didn't take long for the White Stripe's roadies to set up the stage. They were all decked out in black suits to match and go along with the official White Stripes theme. It was all delicious eye candy and I couldn't get over how really nice it was. There were white trees on the edge of the stage, a red and white back drop, three different guitars, a xylophone, a piano, Meg's drums, random microphones stationed at certain points, and even these tiny figurines sitting on top of some silver instrument cases.

It was hot.

When the lights dimmed for a final time, the crowd was completely full. We stood, clapped our hands, and cheered. They began to play intro music while the back drop started to glow and show off a white apple. Before I knew it, out walked Mr. Jack White himself with his "big sis" Meg. Musical orgasm number one was had.

They kicked things off with White Orchid or Dead Leaves on the Dirty Ground. I can't remember. I danced and pumped my fists in the air. I screamed while shouting/singing along. I stood on my tippy toes until I almost passed out. It. Was. Awesome. They played most of my favorite songs and a couple that I had never heard. Meg rocked out In the Cold, Cold Night with her kick ass leather pants (I was strangely attracted to Meg and wanted to find her backstage so we could make out) and Jack White demonstrated that miracles are possible while he ripped out blissful notes from each of his guitars. While Meg would play her drums the camera would get a close up and show that she was singing along while Jack would stand at one of the mics. One of the cutest things ever. Jack even helped her play the drums briefly. There was also a moment when the camera got close up to Jack's hand and we could see on the big screen that he was holding a daddy long leg spider. Not cool. I just wanted to say, "Jack, sweety, put the spider down and keep on playing your glorious music."

Two straight hours of them just playing. They didn't really say much. Or well, Jack didn't say much. Meg didn't say anything at all, she only sang, which was mucho fab. It was all just really mind blowing and we definitely got our money's worth.

After we got finished singing along with Jack (at his request), they said good night to us all and walked off stage. I couldn't move. Literally. My knees were in such pain and I found it difficult to bend them. Mel, Mendy and I locked our arms together so we wouldn't get separated and continued back down the steep hill with the massive crowd towards the parking lot. The temperature had severely dropped as the night grew darker. So much so that I could see my breath.

We found the car, hopped inside and cruised back home where we let our muscles relax and the painful repercussions set in. We made really good time and I finally shut my eyes at one thirty in the morning. Not too shabby.

Just loads of fun all around (such an understatement) and I can't help but think, if I was going crazy over the White Stripes whom I do love but aren't crazy-obsessed with, I'm going to die when we see Coldplay TEN FEET IN FRONT OF ME.

We shall see.

Posted by Sam at 12:56 PM | Permalink

John: "So, do you have any big plans this weekend?"

Me: "Not really. Mostly just recovering."

John: "Recovering?"

Me: "Yeah. I'm going to a concert tomorrow night."

John: "Ah. I guess you would need the rest of the weekend to recover. So who are you going to be seeing?"

Me: "Coldplay."

John: "Really? Do they play rock then?"

Me: "Yeah, indie rock, so to speak."

John: "I see, I see. Are they a local band?"

Me: "Not really. They came out of England."

John (looking surprised): "England? Wow. They must be popular then."

Me: "Yeah, I'd say that they're pretty well known around the world."

John: "Well you make sure to have a good time."

Me: "Of course."

Posted by Sam at 12:55 PM | Permalink

So I sit here, listening to chick music, and wait until it's time for me to get up and leave to get ready for the White Stripes concert. I wish I was more awake and energetic so I could fully enjoy the entire day waiting in anticipation for the concert, but the truth is, I'm just plain knackered. I don't know why I'm so tired but it's just to gotten to the point where I'm extremely annoyed with myself.

I do get off early from work today. Today and Friday, because that's when I'll be experiencing the all out greatness of Coldplay. Two concerts in one week? Fuck yeah!

Ugh, I can't even make my writing exciting and awake.

Anyhoo, aside from the concerts I'm going to be a busy little bee. Guess who has to go to Admin training tomorrow after only getting about three or four hours of sleep? That's right, moi. I'm going to be rolling in looking like I've been hit by a bus. Hopefully they won't be expecting me to say anything or contribute to the conversation, because I doubt I'll have much of a voice left. I remember after rocking out to Keane and The Killers I couldn't talk for a whole day. I sipped on hot tea and huddled in a chair in a spare computer lab where I could be left alone and occasionally fall asleep without being waken up abruptly.

This Admin meeting is going to last all day too. From 8am-4pm I'm going to be chained inside a building with three hundred floors learning how to transfer calls and deal with rude visitors. All I have to say is that after locking myself out of my phone three times I'm a decent expert at how to work the phone and considering I don't have many vistors at all, that isn't much of a concern for me. Now where's the free lunch so I can head on home where I can sleep for the rest of eternity?

Every Monday I have to sit through a staff meeting. Since I've been lending my tiny helpful hand in the HR department with M and they love how I've caught on to everything so quickly, they will soon be trusting me to run the weekly staff meetings where all of the hiring managers get together, update a huge chart with lots of different colors that indicate a lot of different things, and talk about potential hires. It's fascinating, I promise. (*sarcasm) Some time this week, probably Thursday, SuperAdmin and myself will be sitting down together where she'll begin to properly train me on the goings on of this certain contract. Time cards, expense reports, and now staffing. I hope I get a pay raise with all of this new extra work that they're bestowing upon me.

No worries, I'm still working on the work visa bit. It's just a slow process. I'll be updating my resume very soon and sending it out like a mad woman. M said that he would help me with wording it all too so it sounds nice and fancy. Then while those are all floating around on the world wide web, I'll be crossing my fingers and wishing on every lucky star that somebody over there wants to hire a young American desperate to move and start her new life.

Wow, I babble a lot when I'm tired. Eh, nothing new. I'm going to find a place where I can sleep for the next two and a half hours now.

Posted by Sam at 12:57 PM | Permalink

So just how tired am I? Extremely. Why? Not sure. I didn't do a damn thing yesterday except watch BBC America.

I finally got my brakes fixed on my car this past Saturday though. It didn't go as well as I hoped it would, but they were fixed anyway...$927.00 and FOUR HOURS later. Not exactly my idea as a fun filled Saturday.

I had to sit there and listen to Hurricane Rita coverage for four hours straight and make awkward conversation with this man who was one of those "truck guys". You know them, you see them driving down the road and think to yourself, "why the fuck do you need a truck that big?" They talk about diesel engines and how many miles they can get out of it.

"You know, I can go from 0mph to 65mph in three seconds. Ain't that somthing?"

I force a small smile but don't say anything and quickly turn away.

"My brother just bought his new truck two weeks ago. Makes my dad's look like a toy." He laughs at his non-funny joke.

I don't smile. I just look, get up, grab the new Cosmopolitan magazine and quickly educate myself on this year's fall hair styles.

Joe, the nice mechanic who was more than happy to charge me $927.00, would come in every so often and tell me the status of my car and the shitty state that my brakes were in. He took his job very seriously and wouldn't joke around about cars, so my comment about "buying a new pair of shoes for my little one," seemed inappropriate. Joe didn't make me feel like a good car care taker. He made me feel like I was one of those abusive parents that locks their children in the bathroom for three days because they didn't eat all of their dinner.

He brought in parts off of my car and showed me the actual shitty-ness and let me tell you, it looked like shit. He then explained that the reason my car would squeal when I was driving and not when I would brake is because somehow, the brake started going in at an angle and wouldn't go all the way back up vertically. It just remained "cock-eyed," and that just sounded scary.

I told Joe, "please, do anything that you have to in order to fix my car. I normally don't let things like this happen, but everybody makes mistakes." I think he understood where I was coming from and put two of his mechanics to work on my car at the same time.

I paced back and forth. I sat and watched her from the waiting room. It was painful for me to see all of this happening to my first baby. She was suspended up in the air and there they were, drilling, screwing and turning things every which way giving her a new set of front and back brakes.

Eventually though, they lowered her to the ground, gave her a quick test drive and then returned my keys to me while I was paying. Joe gave me a nice little envelope to keep all of my papers in and went over everything and even gave me a lifetime supply of brakes. It's these little coupons that will save me $70.00 everytime something like this happens and they'll keep on re-newing them for as long as I use Midas. I waved good bye to all of the mechanics whom I got to know on a first name basis (Jason, Joe, Emar, Bernard, Ron, and Trevor), and drove off to meet Mendy for dinner.

It was a shock to the system, no doubt. I'm just really glad that I was paid the day before.

Posted by Sam at 12:57 PM | Permalink

Two women in the office down the hall from us informed me yesterday morning while I was catching up on all of my blogs that there was a snake in front of our door.

"As in a live one?" was all I could say. For some reason I thought it might be someone's idea of a joke to put a rubber snake down on the ground.

"Yeah, it's alive. Sheila tossed a pen at it and it moved."

We have two doors in to our office. There's the one that I sit at and stays open during business hours, and the second one remains locked all the time. Thankfully the snake was down at the other door near the lab.

I got up out of my chair and sure enough, there was a tiny garden snake all coiled up lying on the floor. His mouth was open and he was obviously very pissed off.

Surprisingly I didn't panic. He was just a tiny thing and I was even tempted to pick him up myself, take him downstairs and outside. Back in the day when we lived in North Dakota, Mel and I would catch garden snakes and send them down gopher holes. It's cruel, I know, but we were young and lived in North Dakota. There wasn't a whole hell of a lot to do.

I told the two ladies to keep an eye on him and I would run down to the property management's office and get someone to take care of it. They didn't really pay too much attention to me. They were squealing and pressed up against the wall while stretching their neck out forward trying to guess what kind of snake it might be.

I walked as fast as my little BCBG shoes would take me down to the property management's office and knocked on the door. A young lady answered the door and the minute I said the word 'snake' she did not look like she'd be the one who would be volunteering to come upstairs and remove the little guy.

"I'll call, Bob," was all that she said.

When I made it back upstairs, there was a small gathering of about six people who were in a semi-circle all staring down at the snake.

"Looks like it could be a baby python. Those one's aren't dangerous."

"No, I think it's a rattle snake. You know those are the most poisonous?"

What the fuck? I just wanted to tell them all, "um, thanks for your help. You can get the fuck away from our door now. Oh yeah, and you don't know shit about snakes. Rattle snakes have a RATTLE on the end of their tail. Dumbass."

It wasn't long before Bob made it upstairs with a small medal rod to hold the snake with and took complete control of the situation. He totally Steve Irwin-ed it, and within a couple of seconds, the snake was gone and the people continued on down the hall to their office.

It was a main topic of discussion for the rest of the day. Poor M, who is deathly afraid of snakes, was not too pleased or comfortable with the knowledge that a snake had been on the loose for any amount of time on our floor. All he kept on saying was, "if it was a baby, then the momma and daddy can't be too far away," and I noticed that he would scan the floors every so often keeping on the look out.

It was a change of pace in the mornings that was for sure. I'm not too worried about it, but I'll more than likely be checking my slippers from now on before I slide my feet inside.

Posted by Sam at 01:00 PM | Permalink

Mel bought an iPod nano yesterday after she got off of work. I called her to tell her I was outside.

Mel: "I bought an iPod nano. Don't tell Momma."

Me: "Eh?" *Dumbstruck*

Now lets just get one thing straight, mmk? I am not jealous that Mel has the new iPod nano. Seriously. I love my Mini alright? She's gorgeous and has been wonderful ever since I got her. She gladly goes with me anywhere and is more than happy to play songs for me all day while I'm at work.

She's perfect and I love her. Oh yeah, and she's pink.

I just don't think that Mel is ready to handle the full responsibility of having a nano. I mean, there's so much that goes into having one of them and you have to constantly give them attention. She's young. Besides, she didn't even know what to do yesterday after we brought him home. She was asking me about uploading songs, adding pictures, sharing music, if the covers of the CD would show up while an album was playing, putting contacts in, how did iTunes work...

And I don't want to end up being the one who has to take care of him either. I've got my own Mini and a full time job. I can't just drop everything that I'm doing to keep up with her nano and add an album whenever she wants it.

Although, I guess it would be nice for Mini to have someone to play with. She does have an older sister, but they don't understand one another. Mini is the more musically focused one and Baby has a lot of different things that she's interested in. More business oriented. Nano and Mini have more things in common with each other. They seem to be getting along anyway. Last night, Mini was kind enough to share all of her songs with him that way he wasn't stuck with the generic songs that he already came with.

He should be fine. I know that we'll be giving him a lovely home. These two are some of the rare lucky ones. I have to think of all the other nano's that won't be getting the same kind of special treatment as Mini and Nano. They really are spoiled with all of the kick ass music that we listen to. Some iPods are forced to carry the Backstreet Boys and Ryan Cabrera for heaven's sake! The poor things.

**

Mel asked me yesterday while we were on our way home in the car, "so, are you going to blog about this?"

"No," I responded blankly. "It's not that big of a deal."

I hate myself now.

Posted by Sam at 01:00 PM | Permalink

I left a little after eleven o'clock and planned on taking an extended lunch. Not too extended. Just enough so I could open up a savings account that has been in the back of my mind and on my To Do List for nearly seven months. We won't mention what happened to all of that money that could have been saved. All I will say is better late then never, right?

It was a semi-hectic morning and I was busy catching up on blogs (the Internet still isn't connected at home. I'm dying.), answering voicemails, pointing people to the correct conference rooms, and playing "Recruiter." While running around and keeping busy I thought to myself, "see, this is how it's always supposed to be." Before I knew it, it was time for me to grab my keys and head off to the bank and see if they would allow me to open an account without laughing.

I walked inside. The Welcome Lady smiled.

WL: "Welcome to Bank of America, how may we help you today?"

Me (thinking): "Could you give me at least $10,000.00 for college? That would be awesome."

Me: "I need to open a savings account."

WL: "Of course. Do you have a checking account with us?"

Me: "I do, yes."

WL (still smiling. Botox perhaps?): "If you could sit here in our waiting section I'll get one of our representatives to help you."

Me: "Thanks."

I took a seat and noticed that the bank had a nice set up. It was a lot more functional then some of the other banks I had been in to. The Welcome Lady walked over to a young-ish looking guy. She talked while gesturing towards me with her hands, and he nodded a couple of times.

They're not going to let me open a savings account. Well, they have to. It's not like a credit card, right? They can't deny me a savings account, dammit. I'm trying to save and go to college for fucks sake. Sure I'm a bit late and should have been saving ages ago, but I'm here now. That's what counts. Shit, they're going to tell me I don't have enough in my checking account. There's going to be some kind of minimum that is only a real minimum for rich people and I'm going to leave empty handed crying and wishing that I never came and humiliated myself in the first place.

What the fuck am I going on about?

I distract myself and notice that the arms on the chair that I'm sitting in are extremely high and uncomfortable.

WL: "Ma'am? Joe will see you and help you out with opening your savings account."

I snap out of my daze and look up confused.

Me: "Oh right. Thank you very much."

I walk over and shake hands with Joe who is also smiling.

Joe: "So you would like to open a savings account?"

Me: "Yes, please."

He pulls out a pamphlet and begins to explain to me what kind of savings accounts they have. I choose their free, easy, and simple savings account that they have. Joe explains to me that I can have money transferred out of my checking account automatically twice a month and into my savings account that way I don't have to worry about going online and doing it myself.

Technology is fan-fucking-tastic.

Joe also explains that I can pull money out three times a month without being penalized. I tell him I wish that he had never told me that. I ask if there's a way for him to disable the withdrawing capability on my ATM card so I'm not tempted to take anything out for whatever reason. Joe tells me no. He says that I'm going to have to use sheer will power and never become tempted to withdraw money from savings.

I think, "well, so much for opening a savings account."

Joe continues and says that I need to keep a minimum of $300.00 in my savings account, otherwise I will get penalized and that should keep me from touching my savings account for any reason.

I think, "I might be able to do that."

It doesn't take that long before I'm a new and proud owner of my very own (and first) savings account. It wasn't anywhere near as painful as I had imagined and I leave (smiling...it rubs off after a while) wondering why I hadn't done this so much sooner.

Now, if they'd put $10,000.00 in my savings account now that would be so great and they'd have a customer for life.

Posted by Sam at 01:01 PM | Permalink

I've been abusing The Killers re-released album that I bought for Mel a bit ago. Well, the last three songs anyway. Sure it's probably a waste of money to buy an album that you already have just for two extra songs that you haven't heard yet (I knew of Indie rock 'n roll. Jam to it now if you haven't experienced), but my reasoning is that it's THE KILLERS. Exactly. So you know where I'm coming from.

I'm not sure when their new album is coming out, but I should have added it onto yesterday's list, along with The Strokes and Franz Ferdinand. I know it's hard for artists to write their music and come up with some kick ass chords for it all to go with. They have to wait for "a moment" or get past a really big dramatic thing that is going on in their life, process it all, pour all of their words out onto paper straight from their soul, and proof read everything so their message is being conveyed clearly to the listener, but COME ON. I'm seriously impatient and I'm ready to jam out to some new songs from some of my favorite artists. Especially The Strokes. Come on, guys. Give me anything. Really. Even just one single. There doesn't even have to be a video or an entire CD to follow it. Just. One. Song.

Yesterday afternoon was interesting, I have to say. It was my first time volunteering my services to M, and hoo boy, he wasn't lying when he said that he was bogged down by work. Many, many phone calls had to be made and I was the lucky person to dial everyone's phone number. I don't want to toot my own horn, but I did a pretty kick ass job. It may seem like calling up random people and asking them to come in for an interview isn't a hard thing, but when you're me and absolutely terrified that nobody will answer forcing you to leave a voicemail on their machine, you tend to get a little worried. The palms become slightly moist and the heart beat begins to race in anticipation that you're going to have to sound like you know what the fuck you're talking about while trying not to stutter and apologize three hundred times on a machine to somebody you may never meet.

I sounded competent. Major accomplishment number two for me this week.

Also, there was a GIANT meeting held downstairs in my small, under-decorated, conference room. The PRESIDENT of our company decided to pay us a visit and talk buisness. I chose to wear jeans and an orange top that resembles the prison uniforms that are given to convicts (can we please not talk about it?). Nobody informed me that he was going to be arriving, and because about four people decide to visit me on any given day, it was normal to wear jeans on a Thursday and not feel guilty about it.

Luckily, he's met me before and managed to remember my name. My real name. We've talked a few times and he has seen me when I've had on a really cute Ann Taylor suit so I don't feel too awful and embarrassed.

Today is Friday. Hot damn.

Posted by Sam at 01:03 PM | Permalink

I have to go and get the brakes on my car fixed. How badly does that suck? Majorly, I know. I could have sworn that I just got them changed about a year or so ago. Is that normal? I don't even know how often they should be changed or where I should go to get them fixed. I wouldn't have even known that something was wrong with them if I didn't have Mel in the car with me. Since I normally have the music so loud that Jesus could jam along with me in Heaven, I haven't heard them squealing and making that awful, nails-on-the-chalkboard screech. Hideous. I feel terrible I am now that car on the road. The one who every single time I brake, people are looking around thinking, "damn. Somebody really needs to have their brakes fixed." Hey, I can't help the fact that I'm stuck in bumper to bumper traffic every afternoon for over an hour.

Yesterday I saw the TRL premiere of Ashlee Simpson's video, Boyfriend. No, I was not watching TRL. It just so happened to be on that channel when I turned the TV on. Anyway, I will openly admit that I didn't like Ashlee when she first decided to come out with her own album. I thought she was riding on the coat tails of her sister and wasn't a "real" artist. I did get a hold of her CD eventually though and after the first listen through I thought, "well, maybe she isn't so bad." Her first single Pieces of Me was pretty catchy and now I'll openly admit that I'm a full blown Ashlee fan. So, needless to say, I'm a bit anxious for her second album to come out. Judge me as you see fit.

The last week in September, I will be attending a White Stripes and a Coldplay concert with my best gal pal. I know, you're jealous, right? This will be concerts number two and three for both of us. To say that I'm really excited is more than just an understatement. I have to play favorites and say that I'm kind of looking forward to the Coldplay concert more than the White Stripes, but I can't help it. We were able to score tickets in The Pit (thank you to the kind man on Ebay) and will be able to see every drop of sweat that falls from Chris Martin's body. I will be having multiple musical orgasms.

Since I'm sort of on the topic of TV (okay, not really), this past Tuesday was the season premiere of Gilmore Girls. Yes it's a chick show, but it's one of my favorites and one of the last shows that I even care to keep up with. So far, the season has started out okay. I'm not impatiently sitting on the edge of the couch begging to know what is about to happen next, but it picked up nicely exactly where it left off. It'll be nice to have a show to look forward to on Tuesdays.

I know he'll probably hate me, but...that's okay. I'm mentioning it anyway. This Monday is going to be Ash's 22nd birthday. That's right. I was thinking about what I should get him, but he told me that I already got him something, which is sort of half-true. I saw this jacket at Target that I thought was nice and decided to go ahead and buy it for him. Since I'm crap at keeping secrets, I told him what I got before he arrived here and just said that he could consider it an early birthday present. Now though, I've changed my mind and want to get him something else. The question is though, what? Next year will be different though. We'll be able to celebrate the traditional way with cake and loads of Ben and Jerry's ice-cream. There's no other way to celebrate.

Since I'm not like Ash, and on the topic of birthdays, I will say that mine is fast approaching also. October 7th I will officially turn 20-years-old. *Gasp!* Mel is also having an October birthday. The 20th she'll be 18 and is pretty excited about it.

Oh yeah. I also need to make myself a dentist appointment, but I seriously doubt that will happen.

Posted by Sam at 01:03 PM | Permalink

It's out of control. I have decided to take TPK's advice and put a "Counting Cantaloupes" in the sidebar. We now have six. SIX! Two are ready to be picked, and two are almost ready. They're still in the teenager stage. The other two are just wee babies.

Traffic this morning was a bitch. No need to elaborate. I just thought I would share.

I'm currently working on a new plan. I call this plan the Get Sammi out of America and to London ASAP Plan. Creative, no? Things seem to be going well except yesterday when I was doing research for me to get a work visa, I ran into a couple of issues.
- 1st: It's hard as fuck to get a work visa.
- 2nd: They cost a pretty penny in order to get one.
- 3rd: You need to already have an employer who is willing to go through the work visa bull shit so they can submit you for one. OR you have to already be enrolled into a college in the states. Since I don't have a current employer who is willing to submit me and I'm also not enrolled in an American college, it makes things a little more complicated.
- 4th: Again, it's hard as fuck to get a work visa.

My head began to get this pain right above my left eyebrow from all of the reading and staring at the computer screen. I decided to cut out the middleman (hehe, sorry Used Hack), and went straight to our HR guy, M. He does this kind of stuff for new employees and people who already work here all the time. He would be able to know. Sure enough, he did know. He was pouring out all of this beautiful information and I became very excited. Someone who actually knows what their talking about and is able to break it down since I'm slow and it's hard for me to understand lots of big words.

We struck a deal. I help him out with some of his "minor jobs" since he's bogged down with a shit load of work, and he'll help me get a work visa. Hopefully with the same company that I'm working for, but if not, that's cool too. I'll still be able to get one. No muss, no fuss.

I see this as positive development. M is a cool guy and his "minor tasks" will keep me a little busy during the day so I'm not constantly sitting here wondering what it would be like if I were a real receptionist. Plus, it'll make the time go by faster. Hopefully.

I also will be making an appointment to meet with our real estate agent, Y. She helped us find our townhouse that we currently live in. She's real nice and from England working here on a work visa. More research for me. The more I know and really understand, the better off I'll be.

In other random news, I have been able to successfully wake myself up before 5:30am this whole week. I don't know what it is, but I feel strange. Perhaps I've just learned from prior experiences that if I do wake up earlier I won't be running around the house, falling down in my slippers, and that in itself should make my days go by a little more smoothly. Maybe it's the multi-vitamins that Ash was kind enough to bring to me while he was here. Frankly, I'm surprised that I'm still taking them. Who knows, and who cares. The fact is I'm marking it down as a major accomplishment on my part. Some people get excited because they write a good exam paper and make a well deserved A. I give myself a pat on the back just for waking up in the mornings.

Posted by Sam at 01:04 PM | Permalink

So guess where I am?

I'm at work.

Why?

Because I'm an Internet Skank.

That's right. I said it. Internet Skank.

Our computer at home has had a very long and painful death, so because it is no longer working, I trekked it into work with Mel and we're using the computers that my lovely work provides. It's not so bad either. Traffic is so much nicer on the weekends.

Actually, we had to come and drop off lunch for Momma since she actually is working and she needed us to pay some bills online. I decided to write about how much fun it is to come into work with Mel on the weekends.

Mel: "Dude, I want to do something bad while we're here."

Me: "What are you talking about? Just eat your lunch, let me check my e-mail and then we're leaving."

Mel: "No really. Can I go into The Man's office and take something? That would be funny as shit."

Me: "Mel. Finish your lunch."

Mel: "Speaking of shit, I think I'm going to take the kids to the pool. I'll be right back."

A couple of minutes later....

Mel: "Check it out, Sam! They just fell right out of the machine!" She's holding a tampon, and two boxes of Maxithins.

Me: "What did you do?"

Mel: "I just kept on turning and turning and they fell out on their own." She's smiling as if it's Christmas time.

Me: "Were those free or did you have to pay?"

Mel: "It says $0.25 on the machine, but I didn't pay anything."

Me: "You're bad, Mel. You're bad and you're going to Hell."

She also went into The Man's office and took a pen (a fancy looking one too), a highlighter, and a hot pink sticky notepad.

Posted by Sam at 01:07 PM | Permalink

Okay. So part of me really wants to write an extremely detailed post about everything that happened while Ash was here and have it whind on and on and on, but for some reason I'm unable to do so. I want to talk about the mountain of leftovers that still remains in my refridgerator because we never finished at the restaurant, or when we sat with Momma for 4 1/2 hours talking about random things on the last night she was here. I want to write about going into Washington DC and touring Dupont Circle, going into three different gay sex shops which was entertaining and educational. Or when we went by the Protest Lady who has been living across the street of the White House for over twenty years protesting every single war, ever. Those would be great stories.

But I can't. I physically can't. It seems like whenever I have the urge to write and really want to divulge into everything, the words form inside of my brain, wiggle their way down my arms, but get stuck around my wrists and begin to cut off the blood supply to my fingers making it impossible for me to type.

You see the dilemma.

Writing it all down would mean that I would have to think about everything that happened and re-live it all. In reality I haven't done that at all ever since he left. Not by myself while driving or when I'm upstairs in my room. Not day dreaming while at work or when I sit outside at home. Hell, I haven't even re-lived it with anyone else either. Not even with, Ash.

Nothing has crossed my mind. Amazing, I know. My head is absolutely empty. Do you hear that rattling noise when I shake my head? It's there to indicate just how empty my head is. I've done a pretty decent job of making sure that I remain in Denial. It really is a beautiful place. There's palm trees and fruity drinks with small umbrellas to hang on the side of the glass. And the best part? You can stay for however long that you want without any worries.

The downside? I know I eventually have to leave. I'm just too stubborn to do so.

Instead I'm writing about not being able to write and seeing if it helps...anything.

I like what Melissa said. I just Miss him, that's all.

Posted by Sam at 01:08 PM | Permalink

After being away from society for eleven days and enjoying my time in fantasy land, it was a difficult transition to come back to work and have to deal with people on a regular basis. You know how it is after you've been gone away for any amount of time.

It's always the same thing...

"Hey, Sam! So glad that you're back! How was your vacation? Did you have a good time? Boy, you sure were missed while you were gone. This place just hasn't been functioning without you."

Uh huh. I'm sure. I want to say, "can you not see the depressed look upon my face? This is the look that I have when I want to be left the Fuck Alone."

After Sunday, I pretty much shrank into my shell and have been sulking upstairs in my room ever since catching up on crap TV and watching loads of random shows that make it too easy for me to not think at all. Monday was Labor Day and I was planning on getting a lot of things cleaned up and ready for Tuesday. Instead I wasted away upstairs and watched the "What Not To Wear" marathon on BBC America. I love that show. Trinny and Susannah were my saviours. At least they were for six hours.

Tuesday there was no escape though. The alarm clock forced me awake and I had to force myself out of my bed.

I followed my normal routine and dumped all of my crap in one bag to haul back into work. Momma came up with this brilliant (fucked up) plan that we should car pool since the gas prices have been severely rising.

"We can take your car one week and then mine the next. It's better for the environment anyway and we'll save money," she says.

Fuck.

Goddammit, I don't want to car pool with Momma. I love her, but the problem is that my car is my sanctuary and I enjoy having my quiet alone time on the drives to and from work. Now she's going to be there talking about shit that I don't care about or understand anyway and fucking with my music.

Not. Okay.

We take her car into work and drop Mel off at school. It's the first day back to school and I notice the slight change in the weather. The humidity has burned off and there's nothing left but a cool breeze. I welcome it with open arms. Fall is approaching. Before I know it, I'll look up and see that all of the leaves have changed colors and will soon be floating down to the ground.

Once I arrived at work, I open the door and see that there's a lovely mess in the front space all around my desk. Boxes, envelopes, and expenses everywhere. I walk right by all of the mess and go into the kitchen to put my water bottle in the fridge. I quickly notice that there was a drink machine installed, finally. I've only been begging for one ever since we moved into the new building.

I sit down at my desk and ignore the red light on my phone with voicemails waiting to be listened to.

"Ugh, just leave me alone," I think to myself.

I log onto my computer and open my mailbox. Not too scary. Only 45 new e-mails.

Throughout the morning I start filtering through everything that hasn't been taken care of since I've been away. It looked like a much bigger mess then it actually was and before lunch time it's all taken care of. I then move onto more important things...catching up on all of my blogs. I saved them until the end so I would have something to fill up the rest of my afternoon.

I was asked to go out to lunch with the lab. T was taking everyone to this Indian restaurant that she had found. She said that it was one of the better ones that she had been to. I agreed even though I've never had Indian food. T said she would make sure I didn't eat anything that would set my head on fire which was good, because I would have really hated for that to happen. Especially in public.

I didn't fall in love (yet) but definitely became a fan. The spicey curry was lovely and the bread, nan (sp?), is fantastic. I do love that. I had some kind of mango drink too that helped cool my mouth off. Yum.

It was good to go out with the lab. They're a good bunch and I laughed a bit. Definitely needed.

It was a generic day and after I finished catching up on my last blog and posting all of my very late comments it was time to ride on home.

Momma did her run down of everything that happened that I could care less about.

"And then J tells me that I'll officially be promoted on Thursday. I said, 'J, does this mean that I'm getting a pay raise then?' We laughed and I was just like, 'yes.' I guess they can't promote me twice in the first year that I've been with the company. I talked to D about everything that was going on with the......blah, blah, blah, blah."

I stared out the window the whole time and imagined to be somewhere else. Anywhere but here in this car with Momma.

I threw myself into my music and blocked her out the entire ride.

I've been roaming around like a puppy without a home. Nothing to really do and whenever someone asks me about my time off, I'm very vague with them. I suppose I'm a little bit in denial. Part of me still expects to see Ash somewhere and then we'd go off to do something. I'm in denial and shock. I haven't dealt with anything and I need to.

Until I do decide to deal with everything though, I'm happy to just sit up in my room and continue watching "The West Wing" re-runs on Bravo.

Posted by Sam at 01:12 PM | Permalink

I woke up on time for once and was excited about getting to work. Mostly because I knew that I wasn't going to be staying all day and when I left, I'd be off to the airport to pick up Ash. To say that I was nervous was a bit of an understatement. I smoked two fags on the way to work and was very aware of my breathing technique. Slow and steady. Try and keep the fingers from shaking out of your skin and for fucks sake don't start hyperventilating.

After I had changed from "work shirt" into "picking up Ash in this precious Big Squeeze t-shirt" my cell phone rang. It was Mendy.

Me: "Marko."
Mendy: "Polo."

We hung up and jumped in my car. It didn't feel like I was about to see my boyfriend that has been living across the Atlantic Ocean which has kept us apart for nearly eight months. It felt like I was on reality TV and this was all some kind of hoax. A big busty blond host would surprise me at the airport and say, "you are on the new reality TV show, 'Fuck, that joke is cruel!'"

We arrived a little early. Like, two hours early. It took us a small while to figure out where we should be going, but all in all it was fairly easy. Since we had a bit of time to kill, we decided to get a snack so we'd have something to munch on while staring at the arrivals screen.

I got two pieces of bread with cheese, lettuce, and tomatoe on it (supposedly a "sandwhich") for roughly $6.00. Not worth it. Mendy lucked out with some apple fritter that was surprisingly really tasty. It's very hit or miss at the airport.

Ten minutes later, we quickly realized that this was going to be quite a wait, so to entertain ourselves, we made a short video with Mendy's camera, smoked another fag, went to the bathroom, found some chairs so we wouldn't have to sit on the floor, and talked about how we were waiting, yet again, for Ash just like when we had gone to London. What a lovely coincidence.

All this time I was trying to wrap my brain around the fact that I was going to be face-to-face with Ash again. What does one do in this kind of situation? How do you say hello? We talked everyday, but this would be completely different. It may seem simple, but for some reason I was painfully aware of everything I was doing. How I sat, held my arms, and just all of my body language in general. What would I do when I saw him? Run, leap, and embrace in slow motion like in the movies? Or just stand back in absolute awe like, holy motherfucking hell, there he is.

I knew it wasn't a big deal. I would do whatever I felt like doing as soon as I saw him as would he.

We stood up so we could see better. There was a big board indicating which flights were in customs and we saw that his flight was finally off of the plane and standing in line waiting.

We stood. We watched little siblings fight with each other and fall on the floor. We listened to random religious people sing "Hallelujah!" repeatedly. I heard my name over the speakers.

"Samantha (insert last name), please come to the Information desk by baggage claim 14."

Me: "Holy shit. Mendy, did you just hear my name?"

Mendy: "What are you talking about? No, I didn't hear your name."

Me: "Dude, I swear to you that I just heard my name over the speaker. They said to meet them somewhere. Baggage claim 14? Fuck."

Mendy: "Are you hearing things?"

I take her by the hand and start walking. I heard them. I begin looking for a busty blond, lots of ballons, and cameras. They're here. I know they're here. And I'm getting ready to cry a whole lot.

I see a man who looks like he knows something. What that means, I don't know, but as soon as I saw him, I knew there was something up with him. He looked like he was searching for me. He was the bastard that was going to tell me that I was on TV. What an asshole.

I walk up to him.

Me: "Did someone just call for me over the speakers?"

Info Man: "Are you, Samantha?"

I wanted to say, "that depends. Are you working for that blond who's going to make me cry?"

Me: "I am, yes."

Info Man: "Ah. We called for you twice. I need your address for, Ashoke. He's standing in the customs line and he needs it in order for them to let him through."

Me: "Oh, sure. Not a problem."

That was a close one.

I struggled to remember my address and wasn't sure about the zip code, and handed it to Info Man while my heart started to come down from the immediate jolt of adrenaline.

Mendy and I got closer to the door since we were pretty sure that he was about to come out at any minute now. They had everything they needed, right? Just let him go now!

Meanwhile, the religious group were still singing for random people who were coming through the international arrivals door. Singing, clapping, and cheering. I kept my breathing under control. I was focused on the door and every person who walked through had the potential to be Ash. Even the old white women with three kids could have been him.

It happened when I briefly took my eyes off of the door. I was looking at the man with the guitar and in the corner of my eye, I saw him come flying towards Mendy and me with a luggage trolly. Before I could even think, I was swinging through the air. Who would have thought that Ash could pick me up so easily? Well, I am me. I think anyone could pick me up that easily.

"Oh, Sam. I missed you," was all I heard.

Relief washed over me. No hyperventilating. No shaking. I inhaled his shirt and took his hand in mine. Finally. Fucking finally we were together.

Posted by Sam at 01:13 PM | Permalink

As the saying goes, all good things must come to an end.

What some fucking bullshit if I've ever heard it before.

Holiday is over, and Ash is gone now. In the time it took for me to take a deep breath in, exhale, walk down some stairs at Dulles Airport, and look back over my shoulder, it was done. Ash was gone, and again I was left with the same feeling just like eight months ago that this was wrong. All of this was terribly wrong and something needed to be done sooner than immediately to put everything back into place.

I took another deep breath, wiped the tears from my eyes that had began to seriously impair my vision while walking and pulled out the ear phones from my new mini iPod that had been purchased while out at Best Buy. I fumble with "Mini" for a moment and within a couple of presses with my fingers, the first track from The Zutons comes blaring into my ears.

I begin to walk in no real direction and faces blur as I walk past at what feels like lightning speed.

God I have never been so happy to just walk. Walk and walk and walk with music pounding out any thoughts that was occuring at the moment.

A couple of steps and I landed in the ladies bathroom. In the first stall I wiped my eyes and was practicing some heavy lamaze breathing. An image of my sixth grade gym teacher suddenly appeared in my mind reminding me to always breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth.

"It's normal to cry at the airport," I think to myself. "Don't worry. People understand, you're going to be fine. Now get your shit together and prepare to face your mother and sister. They've already landed. You need to be able to drive. You really don't want to deal with your mother at this time. Don't cry. There's no need to cry. We had a great time and are lucky. We are the lucky ones. Remember the good. Don't cry."

Fuck.

It was a sort of nice coincidence that Momma and Mel were landing just as I had to drop Ash off at the gates. They were coming in from their holiday and would want to yack on and on about everything they did, what they saw, took pictures of, the different people that they had encountered while away and explain in extreme detail everything that had happened and I had missed out on.

I would want to pry out my eyes with a burning stick.

Another deep breath and I was back walking in the airport a bit slower than before but still with my music. I found their baggage claim and took a seat nearby.

A flash of Ash laying downstairs while watching TV appears in my head.

"He's gone," I think. My throat tightens.

I inhale sharply and try to find something absolutely unrelated to anything to focus on.

The lady next to me was dressed up from head to toe in pink and smelled strongly of bad perfume. I wanted to gag, but she was a pretty good distraction.

Luckily I didn't have to wait too long and was able to leave with Momma and Mel talking my ear off as I predicted. I didn't hear a word of what they said, but still added in my, "oh really?" and "that's nice" comments every so often. I had forced myself into a numb state in order to survive the ride home.

When we arrived, I fell quiet. I went to the bathroom, took off all of my jewelry, and went upstairs to lay down on my bed. I felt nauseous like my insides were being yanked out of me through my toes. I couldn't understand how everything had just happened so suddenly and I wasn't prepared for any of it. Then again, how do you prepare yourself for something like this? I didn't have time to deal, to decompress, to process, or accept anything. It was like a crash course of emotions and I tucked everything away in order to not cause a major scene.

My numb state slowly began to fade away and as I sat in bed looking towards the windows it was hard to imagine that only a couple of hours ago, both of us were here.

I had a proper cry. I wallowed and felt sorry for myself. I knew it wouldn't be the last time but I felt okay for the moment and remembered him just being here. It wasn't my imagination or a dream. It really did happen.

And lord did we have a fucking kick ass time.

Posted by Sam at 01:14 PM | Permalink

*Sigh*

It's almost over. This is the first time in over a week that I've spent more than ten minutes at the computer. The rest of the time I've been driving, eating, sleeping, kissing, staring, listening, touching, feeling, and loving. To put this whole time into one word wouldn't be possible. Although I think I have worn out "amazing."

Currently, Ash is sleeping upstairs in my room while I sit in the livingroom and catch up on e-mails and my favorite daily read blogs.

Ash is sleeping upstairs in my room.

Christ.

Many more details to soon follow. Needless to say I'll probably be writing about these past eleven days until I officially move over there.

Posted by Sam at 01:15 PM | Permalink