Things that make me happy:
Going to the bookstore to pick up Inkheart (recall I’m a big geek-reader and generally, when a new movie comes out that was based on a book, I ignore the movie and read the book instead – it’s always better), and walking out with Searching for the Sound for $1.89. Score!
My new Ipod Touch. This was the best kind of Christmas gift. The kind that I had no idea that I even wanted, but as it turns out – I really, really did. It’s awesome having the music I love – the music you never, ever hear on the radio – at my fingertips:
My job. I know I’m a bit of a Pollyanna about Awesome Company, but I swear – they really are awesome. I love what I do, I love what our company does, I love my bosses. I work with a group of really smart, fun, kind, funny, wonderful people and I am well aware of how lucky I am. If I ever feel even slightly jaded about things here, all I have to do is remind myself of my last job and I snap out of it. While I had a few coworkers who were really great, I also worked amid some of the fucked up weirdoes I have ever met (and not the good kind of weird fucked-up-ed-ness, either). There was cattiness, overly competitive bullshit, way too much gossip, way too little money, and the worst boss, ever. He was snobby, cheap, and an asshole. At a Christmas party at his house (which he spent the previous year telling us all what he paid for it “in cash”), he had two different “levels” of liquor. One for him, his wife, and a couple other bigwigs (which included a couple selections of red and white wine and some decent liquor, served in nice glasses), and another for the rest of us (big jugs of low end screw-top wine, and such liquor selections as Popov vodka, served in plastic) Also – don’t get me wrong – if I come to your house and you serve me any of those selections, I will happily and graciously drink them. But if you have better stuff and don’t think I am good enough for it, you’re an asshole. And really, I can sum up the kind of guy he is in one sentence: he has been heard introducing his children as “My biological son and my adopted daughter”.
Snow! I want more!
Having a viola player entertain us on Christmas Eve. So cool.
The fact that this didn’t happen at my house:
Girls with guitars:
New Year’s Eve:
Shortly after this, we serenaded the entire neighborhood with “The Greatest Love of All”, and announced that George Benson is the best and Whitney is a crack whore. So to those residents of South Fayette who got to enjoy our performance: You’re welcome.
Things that make me unhappy:
Traffic during snow season. The normal Pittsburgh nightmare of driving with the Asshole Traffic Brigade reaches new lows of ballsuckery during snow season.
Having one’s “class clown” reputation overshadow ones intelligence or compassion or authority. It sucks. I can be silly and goofy and a little bit of a hothead, and still be smart and kind and in control. And just because I joke around a lot doesn’t mean that I don’t have feelings that can be hurt.
The fact that the fuckbucket dog knocked maple syrup onto my carpet and his brother, the fucknugget cat tracked it all around.
Ending on an unhappy note, so I will go back to things that make me happy:
The fact that my SILs are coming down on Saturday for our monthly drunkover. Yay! I’m so blessed to have these wonderful women in my life. Being an only child, suddenly having sisters means the world to me. I know so many people who dread in-law time and I know how lucky I am. I now have six sisters-on-law, and a whole slew of nieces and nephews who get a huge kick out of being my age or older and calling me Aunt Gina ( I have to keep reminding them that their uncle robbed the cradle). There are even great and great-great nieces and nephews. It’s awesome. Also awesome? My SIL Weenie and niece Scabs, who indulge my nonsense:
I gave them these for Christmas and told them they were appropriate whether we were together or apart.