Today at work, Dale called me to tell me to get onto AIM. Obviously he wanted to tell me something he couldn’t say over the phone. (He shares an office with two other people.) Fortunately, it was good news.

Golden Boy got himself another raise.

Yay!

Hold on, I have to go do a happy dance before I pee myself.

……

OK. I’m back. Sorry, just had to get that out of my system. See, this is very good news. Dale and I are buying a house. Every extra bit is going to help, especially since we’re so self-indulgent that saving isn’t always easy.

But we’re getting better. Really, we are.

Of course, now Dale is on my case to increase my income level as well….

Happy, happy, happy, happy!

Pretty lame entry, eh?

Kathie sent me this:

Well, I felt pretty guilty for a lot of today. You see, it is Dale’s birthday, and I hadn’t done a damn thing to prepare for it.

I’m a bad wife.

But, it’s not totally my fault…. He is a damn hard person to shop for. I mean, if he doesn’t already have something he wants, it’s likely because it’s too expensive or not practical considering our apartment habitat. Dale and I really spoil ourselves; we’re the type to want something, and just get it. It’s cool in some ways, but does also make gift-giving for him more difficult. And a power drill just seems like a cheesy gift for a birthday. And, we just don’t have room for a pinball machine.

Of course, I have no excuses for not having gotten him a card or cake. Last night I did try to get him a belated bachelor party with the guys (since he didn’t get one before our wedding), but Rick wussed and didn’t want to go. So Dale got stuck at home with me after I went into one of my cleaning fits.

Today, after lunch with Aaron, Dale wanted to go to a hobby store to pick up some parts for his RC car. (One of those not-really-necessary and very-expensive toys we’ve gotten just ’cause they’re fun.) I suggested we stop by H.E.B. since it was nearby, so I could get cake fixin’s. Unfortunately, we stopped by just a couple of hours prior to the Superbowl kick-off, and the place was packed. Instead, we dropped off Aaron, and Dale and I wasted several hours doing pointless things in the apartment.

Around 7, we decided to try the grocery store again. The place was nearly empty and so was the potato chip aisle. Unfortunate, as I had a craving for Salsa Verde Doritos (damn you, Aaron!). Dale couldn’t make up his mind as to what type of cake he wanted, so I confessed I was planning a two-part cake that could easily accomodate two different flavors. He picked Chocolate Mocha with vanilla icing and a Spice Cake with cream cheese icing. (OK, so I really picked the icing for the second cake.) We picked up a few others items and headed for home.

I knew I had at least two hours of baking ahead of me, so I suggested Dale and the guys go out to dinner, and he just bring me something afterwards. So that’s what they did. Steve, Aaron, Rick, and Dale went out for Indian food. Two hours later, Dale appeared with a yummy Jack-in-the-Box Sourdough Jack combo for me. The guys were stopping by Rick and Aaron’s and would be along shortly.

Sadly, by this point, I had only completed one cake. DAMN OVEN!! It gets too hot, so I’ve learned to turn down the temperature a bit, but it still took over an hour for just the spice cake to bake. After the first 30 minutes, I had to get up every 5-10 minutes to check its progress. In between trips to the oven, I alternated between watching the Discovery channel (Zoé: The Marrying Tribe of the Amazon) and some other channel that was doing a story about Mary Kay LeTourneau.

The guys arrived, bringing with them a movie: Idle Hands. All of us (but Rick) had seen it before, but it’s a pretty damn funny movie. The guys watched it while I bounced between the kitchen and my computer. Despite high hopes, the second cake took just as long to bake. By the time the movie had ended, both cakes were done, but I still had to ice them. Well, the spice cake was ready, but the chocolate mocha needed a few minutes in the freezer.

As I began icing the second cake, the guys all gathered to watch, spoiling my surprise. Ok, ok, I was making a pair of breasts. As I felt rather weird working on these cakes with them watching (and commenting on how I was going to do the nipples), I sent them away. I finishing icing, added a final, and stuck them in the freezer for a few more minutes to “perk up the nipples.”

So, when I presented the cake, the guys knew they were going to see a pair of giant pink breasts. But they weren’t expecting one of the nipples to be pierced. We played with the cakes a bit, took a few pictures, then winced as Dale cut the first slice. (You can click on an thumbnail to see a bigger picture.)

Here they are in all their glory. The black dot on the left one is actually the bead in the piercing.		Aaron (naught monkey!) shows us what he’d like to do with Dale’s birthday cake.
Dale shows off what a lovely pair he has.		And I just had to get in on the action. Ooo! Perky!

Having spent over 4 hours dealing with these edible jubblies, I didn’t feel like eating any, but the guys assured me the right one (spice) tasted great. Of course, the eating was accompanied by a great deal of commentary about what “tasty breasts” I have, how “nice of me to share my breasts,” what a frightening Barbie pink they are (sorry! I added too much red food coloring.), etc.

Dale and Rick chow down.

So do Aaron and Steve.

Dale’s been reading this over my shoulder, and he’s scolded me for saying I was a bad wife. He and the guys loved the cake, so perhaps I have redeemed myself. Though I must admit, that’s a pretty scary looking pair of boobs! Now I have to figure out how to store a breast and a half.

Ouch!

I hate Network Solutions. So much, I’m not even going to make those words link to their site, like I usually do with people/companies I mention here.

This is an old hatred, dating back to my first domain, wakingdream.com. When I first decided to get my own domain, I went with a highly recommended host. (I hate them enough to not even mention them here for fear of generating any traffic for them, though it seems they’re defunct now anyway. Wonder why. *smirk*) They handled all of the domain registration, contact information, etc, set up. And 3 years and another host later, that’s still coming back to bite me in the ass.

Being the fickle woman that I am, less than a year after getting my domain, I wanted a new name. Dale agreed, and my former boss liked wakingdream.com, so we agreed to sell it to her. Cheap. It took over a year to make the transfer final. Joy and I went through the website, followed all the instructions, printed and filled out the forms, had a notary public witness us signing them, and snail mailed them to Network Solutions.

In the mean time, I contacted Hated Host and told them to register the new domain for me, then switch it for wakingdream.com and cancel the hosting for the old domain. Three days later, midnightgarden.com was still unclaimed. I called back. “Oops.” They finally got my new domain registered and ceased hosting my old, but they continued to bill me for wakingdream.com. For 4 months.

Shortly after that, the ownership transfer was refused. No reason given, just that there was something wrong with the form. We were a little screwed by then, because I could no longer access wakingream.com email to resubmit the form or to update my contact info. So we called Network Solutions to find out what to do. I ended up faxing in a letter explaining the email problem, along with a copy of my driver’s license. We got confirmation of the change so we went through the whole domain ownership transfer process again.

Then I moved halfway across the country. And then Joy contacted me to let me know the paperwork had been rejected again. Still with no explanation of what was wrong. Can you believe it took dozens of phone calls by me and Joy before we finally got someone who could tell us that the problem was that I was using an incorrect Authorization Scheme to identify myself? Apparently, Hated Host set up a different Auth Scheme than I’d thought and had never bothered to TELL ME. By this time I was also married and my name had changed, so I had to fax in a letter (on letterhead*) explaining the problem and my request, and a copy of my driver’s license, AND a copy of my marriage license. I made sure to include a request to change my Auth Scheme.

We got the confirmation a few days later, just in time for Joy’s birthday, and something like a year after we’d made the first attempt. Around that same time, I was also switching my host because I was absolutely fed up with Hated Host. I was really into tracking my traffic and stats then, and they’d randomly dump my logs. They shut down my message board. They were a pain to contact for tech support. So, we shopped around and decided on OLM.net. (For the record, we LOVE them!! I highly recommend them. Great prices, all the access I want, and more space than I can fill.) I got set up there, then began the process of transferring my website.

I contacted Hated Host and told them to cancel my account on specified date. *sigh* Again, 4 months later, they were still billing me. And this time, the charges couldn’t just be credited towards future bills. It took repeated calling and I think a few threats before they finally refunded my credit card.

BAH! I HATE YOU, HATED HOST!!!!

So, you may be wondering what led to this rant today, if all this happened so long ago. (More likely you’re not, but this is my space so I can rant if I want.) Well, a few days ago I decided to update my contact information. New address and phone, etc. So, I filled in the form and emailed it off as instructed. Yesterday, I got a bizarre email that had me initially thinking someone was trying to steal my domain. The subject line had my name and NIC handle listed, but the contact info form was for some person in Switzerland! I checked the mail over carefully, and reached the conclusion that an email from soneone else was pasted into the response from me, ’cause at the bottom was my form and request.

I didn’t want to reply to this email for fear of messing up either my or the other person’s info, so I decided to call Network Solutions today.

At first I thought they were being sneaky. I dialed the number I’d saved, and got a completely different company. I bitched to Scott about it. Then I realized I was dialing the Austin area code. *blush* So I tried again and got Network Solutions. And transferred into a phone menu. There wasn’t an option for “NS is sending me weird spliced email,” so I picked what seemed closest. And waited. And waited. And waited. 20 minutes later, I got some Customer Support guy who tried to tell me that the problem was that I had used the other person’s NIC handle in my request.

Uh, I don’t think so. Even if I typoed, mine is 3letters2numbers. The other person’s is 2letters4numbers. Not even same letters or numbers. Plus, why did one email contain change requests for TWO people? He had no clue, so he said I needed to talk to someone in tech support and transferred me. That wait and call were much shorter because the tech guy said he worked on the WORLDnic side, and I needed tech support for the INTERnic side. He gave me a number (no transfer?!) and it was another long distance number.

*sigh* I called the new number. And got a looping phone message that suggested I “call back between 7 and 9 a.m.” for quickest response. A two-hour window??

I called the first number again. Got the receptionist. Said I needed someone from Internic tech support. I got the same menu as the first time. Hung up. Called again. Got the receptionint. Asked politely for a supervisor. Got transferred into the same friggin’ menu system! Hung up. Called again. Same bimbo. Forcefully, but politely said, “I need a supervisor and don’t transfer me into the menu because there isn’t an option for my problem which is a security issue with my account!” A pause, then, “Hold, please.”

Miraculously, no menu. But I spent another 10 minutes on hold, then got Eric. I highly doubt he was a supervisor, but he listened to my problem (explained in a voice near cracking from frustration), laughed at seeing the other person’s info in my email, and guessed that person may have mistakenly used an incorrect tracking number for their form, which just happened to be mine. Other than that, he had no explanation.

He did tell me that the reason the change request hadn’t gone through yet was because I was using the wrong Auth Scheme. (This sound familiar?) Apparently, though they’d updated my name/address/phone after the last fax, they hadn’t changed my Auth Scheme. Eric told me I’d have to send another fax, gave me his full name, fax number, and what I needed the fax to contain (which included a copy of my driver’s license, again.) He didn’t say it needed to be on letterhead, but I went ahead and quickly made some in Word.

I guess I’ll check next week and see if all the changes were made as requested. Boy, I can’t wait to update the contact info on my three domain names!

I hate Network Solutions.

* Letterhead?

“But, this is a personal website. I don’t have letterhead.”
“Uh…. well, could you make some up in Word or something? We have to have the request on letterhead.”
*siiiiiiigh*
“Yeah, sure.”

Sorry there wasn’t an entry yesterday, but the Claritin I’d taken in the morning really whupped my ass.

Normally, I feel some drowsiness in the mornings for the first two or three days I start taking it again, after not taking it a while, but I felt REALLY drowsy on Wednesday. Even having lunch didn’t help. I left the table before the rest of my team mates, because I was afraid I’d pass out, and for some reason I thought it would be better to do that in my cube than in the cafeteria.

You know that feeling you sometimes get from cold medicines? Where you feel funky and it’s almost like there are bubbles in your blood? I felt that way all day. At 4pm, I still couldn’t walk in a straight line. All I wanted to do was SLEEP!

Surprisingly, though, my brain was still pretty sharp, and I really cranked out some assignments. I was kicking butt. Or maybe I was just stoned and thought I was kicking butt.

Anyway, by the end of the work day I still felt so weird, I asked Dale to pick me up on his way home because I was afraid to drive. After getting home, I collapsed on the bed. I went to sleep at 6:30.

So there you go. The reason why there was no entry yesterday.

Cedar Fever, a plague upon thee! Actually, it’s more of a plague upon me. Couple that with three cats, triple it with no Claritin, and my allergies can really ruin my life.

I only got up this morning to call Alex and tell him I wasn’t going to be in today. Then I went and crawled back into bed until 3:30 or so.

I’m a tissue junkie now. I won’t even leave the house without first making sure I have one of those little portable packets stuffed in a pocket or my purse. I sniffle so much, I don’t even realize it until Dale comments on it. My eyes are itchy and puffy. My ears and throat itch. I wish I had Pamie’s little wooden hand to ram down my throat so I could scratch that itch that won’t go away. Oh, and I’ve got a headache. There’s no way in hell the webcam’s going to be on and pointed at me tonight.

Despite all that, today (well, really this evening) hasn’t been all that bad. It’s actually been pretty good. I’ve been able to spend a lot of time chatting online with Kathie since she’s snowed in up in Virginia. I watched most of Jumpin’ Jack Flash and laughed. I’d forgotten how funny that movie is. I really, really like Whoopi Goldberg. Even though I had to shower and drag my ass out to Walgreen’s to refill my Claritin (and get Dale his own deoderant so he’ll stop using up mine), I didn’t have to wait too long.

It was long enough for me to do something stupid, though. I bought a Furby. I don’t know why! I’ve never wanted one. I think their faces are creepy, especially that sensor thing on their foreheads. And I sure as heck didn’t need one. But I found myself on my knees, going through three shelves of them as I waited on my prescription.

I bought the most obnoxious-looking one I could find. And, let me tell you, that was tough! They’re all pretty obnoxious.

The webcam pic doesn’t really do Bueno justice. Actually, I think its name is Way-Loh, but Dale asked if I’d mistakenly gotten the Spanish version.

“Why?”

“Because it sounds like it’s saying, ‘Bueno!’ ”

Anyway, about the colors…. Bueno’s body fur is this odd raspberry-purplish-red color. It’s stomach and inner ears are a tangerine orange. Feet, tuft, and tail are day-glo orange.

Even before I’d gotten its batteries in place, the cats were investigating. To my surprise, they weren’t afraid of this thing, just curious. Spritel hopped up onto the desk next to my keyboard and stayed there even after I put Bueno on the pillow next to him, then kept clapping loudly to make the Furby react.

I really don’t know what to do with it, and Bueno just keeps putting itself to sleep. I know Dale likes it better that way.

Hrm, I think the little thing’s growing on me. I’m starting to think it’s cute.

I made a real dork of myself earlier today. The little “new mail” icon lit up, so I checked mail. Lo and behold, there was a note from Pamie! I actually gushed to Kathie about it. Then I responded to Pamie. And babbled. And warned her I was going to be at her upcoming roundtable at South by Southwest.

I act like a goofy teenager with a crush when it comes to Pamie. *sigh* I’d like to go see her show some time, but I’m afraid that if I did and then met her, she’d be like, “Ooohhhhhh, it’s YOU!” and then run screaming.

I am SUCH a dork.

Stee, Beth, Shelley, Sarah and Sara better watch out. I’ve started reading their pages too!

Warning: This entry contains some bad words and graphic language. Not mine, but don’t say you weren’t warned.

Tonight I got home to find this odd email waiting in my in-box:

mi amorcito lindo te escribo desde colombia soy uno de tus mayores fans tengo mi computador lleno de fotos tuyas y a diferencia de mis amigos si te respeto com mujer y te admiro estas muy buena con amor fabio breton

I guessed it was Spanish, and Alta Vista’s Babelfish program translated it to:

my pretty amorcito I write to you from Colombia I am one of your mayores fans I have my full computer of photos yours and unlike my friends if I respect com to you woman and I admire these to you very good with love fabio breton

Something tells me this fellow was thinking of another Pamela when he sent this. Oddly enough, this isn’t the first foreign-language pseudo-love letter I’ve received.

Neither Babelfish nor a Spanish-speaking friend could fully translate this one:

cual es tu pajina de internet para sacar protector de pantalla tullos

Here’s what Babelfish was able to make of that:

as it is your pajina of Internet to remove tullos protector of screen

Um, ok. Whatever.

This email didn’t require translation, and oh, ain’t he a charmer?

Hi Pamela I Will kom to America to fuck you in your pushie en you can suck my dick.I will fuck you verry hard and good.My dick is verry long.

*roll*

Let’s end this on a nicer note.

Go see Aruna’s web page (ACB Gallery) and take a look at her beautiful artwork. Feel free to drop her a line to let her know what you think about it.

I had an odd and disturbing dream this morning. I think I was some sort of Pokémon, but I looked like I do, not like one of those weird cartoon things. There were lots of us, and a group of people/monsters were trying to kill us all. Just before I woke up, I was the last one alive. I’d barricaded myself inside a small bathroom. One of the killers was coming through the door a lá Jack Nicholson in The Shining, and I was trying to escape up through the ceiling. Weird.

I was *ahem* on the potty and Pumpkin jumped onto the tank. One of his feet slipped off and flushed the toilet. I looked at him and said, “If you wanted a courtesy flush, all you had to do was ask.”

Someone hacked my AOL Instant Messenger account and stole my name. *sigh* I don’t use AOL, but AIM is the easiest way for me to keep in touch with friends and family in Virginia. I know I can just set up another name (which I’ve done) but I’m really upset and pissed that someone would do that. I’ve had that particular name for three years, dating back to when I worked at AOL. There is someone looking into it, but it’s questionable whether I’ll get the name back or not.

Phaedra told me she’s thinking about taking on a third job. That makes me feel so guilty. She’s a full time college student in her final semester already working two jobs when she doesn’t have to work at all, and I’m worried about working one job full time and taking one or two night classes. And she’s got good grades. I’m so proud of her.

Angela came up in conversation a lot this weekend, mainly because we were hanging out with Kevin a lot, and Jamie was in town too. It’s amazing how much dislike and disgust our group still has for Kevin’s ex-wife. I’m annoyed (and so is Dale) that I can’t just forget about her. She just caused so much hurt. I say I don’t hate her, but perhaps I do since I just want her to wallow in misery. Does that make me a bad person?

So, how many of you saw the webcam pic that caught me blowing my nose? Cedar Fever has made me miserable today. I’ve had terrible sneezing fits. One was like 2 minutes long. Pumpkin meowed at me when I sneezed, like he was saying little kitty “Bless you’s!”

I got frustrated with the state of this computer table. Spritel and Pumpkin like to lie on the pile of stuff to my left, usually knocking it off a paper at a time. My solution to this problem was to push all of that crap on to the floor and place a small pillow there. Apparently Spritel likes this arrangement. I really need to get that stuff off the floor. It makes it a pain to a)get into the closet and b)get to the back of my computer.

I’ve further proved my geekness. We were watching “Wing Chun” last night, and when Fortress Leader #1 (a.k.a. “Flying Chimpanzee”) began his moves with his huge spear (named something silly) I declared, “It’s Kilik!” (A character from Soul Calibur, for those of you who don’t know.)

The other night Dale turned to me and said, “Let’s get you a new computer for my birthday.” (No, you read that correctly.) I’m so torn. I want a new computer. He wants a new computer. But, we need to save for the house. But, this could help us save. It’d be about $500, but then we’d turn my computer into a Unix box and use it as a firewall and to host my websites, so then we wouldn’t have to pay for hosting anymore, and I’d be able to start using my additional domain names. Oh, decisions, decisions.

I’m tired, so I’m going to go to bed now.

While searching my hard drive earlier tonight for a particular image, I came across these… Three entries for an online diary I’d started at the beginning of 1998, then promptly forgot about. I mean, only three entries?

December 31, 1997

Part 1 - An Introduction

OK, So this Diary starts a day early. Shoot me. I plan on writing this entry throughout
the course of today and into tomorrow (once I’m back home, after the celebrations.)

So, I’ve tossed about the idea of doing an online diary for some time now, ever since reading Water and my own friend, Melissa’s secret (no, I won’t give you the URL) online diary. The main reason I haven’t done it before now is that I really didn’t think I’d ever have anything interesting to say, and certainly not enough to write about on a daily basis. Well, I suppose that while I’ll always wonder if anyone cares about anything said here, at least I’ll have said it.

I also just wanted a way to be able to rant about all the silly little things that bother me, when I can’t talk to Kathie on the phone, or email Melissa, or I know Dale will just give me that, “you women are so silly,” look.

Part 2 - The Dream

This morning I had a dream that deeply bothered me. A lot of it didn’t make sense and simply wasn’t possible, as is the way with most dreams. The dream centered on finding a lost friend and the potential loss of another.

I had some how gone back in time to a point well before the sudden death of a friend of mine, Moochie. It filled me with joy to know that I had a second chance to tell Moochie how much I loved him and appreciated his friendship. As I was trying to comprehend this wonder, I saw in a crowd, walking away from my, my dearest friend and lover, Dale.

At that point I realized that while moving backwards had given me a chance to relive and strengthen my friendship with Moochie, I had gone back to a time before I’d even met Dale. I suddenly feared that changing the course of events with Moochie might change my whole future, and I might never meet Dale. This thought saddened me immensely and filled me with fear. I began to cry.

I awakened, crying. As Dale walked into the bedroom, he asked me what was wrong. I tried hard to tell him, but I’m not sure he fully understands, because I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that in the dream, I feared having to make a choice between Moochie’s life and my relationship with Dale. While I love Dale above all else, and I’ve never been happier than I am with him now, I didn’t know if I could just let Moochie go again, knowing how much pain his death caused me and quite a number of other people.

I suppose it’s silly to be so deeply upset by a dream, especially when there’s no possiblity I’d have to make a choice like that, but I am, and I can’t help it. I think it’s in my nature to ponder too much upon the darker points in my life. (Although I’m not as bad about that as I used to be.)

January 2, 1998

The end of the year and the start of the year was interesting for me, and not at all typical of the way in which I’ve celebrated in the past. Dale and I first went to a community party that was being hosted by my parents’ neighborhood. While this wasn’t particularly the way we wanted to spend New Year’s Eve, I found it hard to say no to my mother, but promised Dale we’d leave if it was totally
lame.

Well, the decision to leave occurred not too long after our arrival. There were only four of us under the age of 35. So, after wishing the best to my parents and their neighbors, Dale and I fled with my sister, Phaedra, to her friends’ house. We weren’t much more at home there, as we were at least five years older than anyone in that group. The TV was set to Comedy Central, so we stuck around long enough to watch some South Park. (Hey, what can we say? We love that show.)

Dale and I left Phaedra and her friends around 11:30. I didn’t think we’d make it home before midnight, and I was right. According to the radio, we passed into 1998 just after going through the toll booth.

Even though our New Years lacked partying, lots of noise, etc., I still really enjoyed it. Maybe it’s because I still got to start off the New Year with Dale. It was actually very pleasant just to be holding hands with him and driving down the road, knowing we were starting another year together.

January 8, 1998

OK, so I written in a while. Get used to it. This is not going to be a new-entry-every-day type of diary.

Actually, while I’ve wanted to sit down and write, I have been either (a)very busy or (b)very sick. Yes, I’m sick. Yes, I’m whining, and I’ve been both since the day after Christmas. *sigh* I feel sorry for poor Dale. He’s been so good to me, even going out and buying a humidifier. (Which has actually helped a great deal.) I finally saw a doctor on Tuesday, and just got prescriptions for an antibiotic and a decongestant. (Side effects? Oyes! Try NAUSEA!) I woke up yesterday feeling worse than in the previous few days, and called in sick to work. I did spend all day in bed. I’m back in to work today, but I’ve been battling a queasy stomach and some major coughing. Figures, I just ran out of kleenex.

On a lighter (and healthier) note, Dale and I have started aikido, a Japanese defensive martial art. First class was Tuesday night. It was quite an experience! Both of us are new to any sort of martial art, and I’m unfamiliar with exercise. Anyway, it was fun! Although, I left with a headache. We’re learning how to do falls/rolls, and I wasn’t tucking my head enough so instead of coming down on the back of my shoulder, I was throwing myself onto the back of my head. A number of my other joints still hurt too, but it’s that good hurt of knowing you’re doing something that’ll be good for your body.

In addition to Aikido, I’m going to begin Tai Chi lessons tomorrow with my friend, Kathie. I’m really looking forward to it. Part of Tai Chi is meditation and relaxation, and I’m in need of both.

Let me start of by saying that yes, everything is better now, and thank you for putting up with two days of walloping self-pity.

I got home around 5:30 and could smell dinner. Tacos! Yeah! Dale was at his computer, with Insane Clown Posse blasting away. I said hello twice, then went about putting up keys, purse, ID badge, etc. I came out of the bedroom after hanging up my jacket and he was surprised to see me.

Dale: Oh! I didn’t hear you come in?
Pamela: Really? I said hello twice, and even dropped my keys.
Dale: Nope, didn’t hear a thing.

I went into the kitchen and gave him a big tight hug.

Pamela: I’m so sorry, and I love you, and I don’t ever want to lose you. I don’t want to rehash the past couple of nights, or point fingers, or say who’s fault it was. I just want to start over, right here, right now.
Dale: I do too, sweetie. I love you too.

Then he asked if he could pop my head, meaning give me a bone-crushing hug that would force the blood out of my body and into my cranium. I said, “Yes,” of course.

Dinner was great. While we were eating, I asked him what he wanted to do that evening.

Dale: Well, I was going to ask you if you wanted to go get a web cam.
Pamela: *grinning* I was going to ask if you wanted to go do that!

We didn’t go out right away. First I asked him to cuddle with me on the bed, and then we ended up making up again in a whole new way, if you know what I mean.

*grin*

So we went to a couple of stores and compared web cams, and settled on the Logitech QuickCam Pro. I didn’t get to go home and install it right away because I had to pick up some cards and decorations for two coworker birthdays. So he dropped me off at the shopping center and went home to get my badge for me. I picked up a few other items, then he took me by the office where I did some quick decorating for the birthday folks. Then we went home and I tried to set up the cam.

“What? What do you mean I need a Win98 install disk?! Do we even have one of those?”

We eventually found one and got the cam going, but not before I’d smacked my head on the cross-pieces under the computer table a half dozen times or so.

And here’s the first picture I captured. (Isn’t he a sweetie?) And here’s the last. And no, I won’t be taking off any clothes on cam.

And hopefully, I’ll remember not to pick my nose when it’s on.

Um, if you happen to go by my webcam page in the future and it’s password protected, don’t be offended. I got it mainly for sharing with my far away friends. But, if you email me and ask me nicely, I may let you in.

Dale and I compared my cam to Jerrold’s and we think his image quality is so much better. So tonight I think we’re going to return my QuickCam and get the Intel Pro Cam.

After I got home last night, things got a little better with Dale. Then they got worse. Then they got really bad. He slept on the couch again, for the few hours left before work.

I’ve been miserable all day. I’ve had to fight crying at my desk.

Then a woman on one of the lists I’m on sent the group a ‘good luck’ chain mail. She stated it wasn’t for the the purposes of fulfilling the chain mail ‘requirements,’ but to share the instructions that were the bulk of it. I read them and felt more shitty than before.

Around #14, I started to cry. I don’t know who the original author is, but this is now my list of New Year’s Resolutions. I copied the instructions out of the mail, and forwarded them on to a few people. Then, I sent Dale an email.

Dale,

I’m very very sorry. I love you so much, and I don’t ever want to lose you. I am absolutely miserable right now. The Instructions below came through one of my lists. It was supposed to be a good luck chain letter, but I’ve snipped that stuff. The rest of it is very good advice though.

I feel like a total shit.

Love,
Pamela

Instructions for Life

1. Give people more than they expect and do it cheerfully.
2. Memorize your favorite poem.
3. Don’t believe all you hear, spend all you have, or sleep all you want.
4. When you say, “I love you,” mean it.
5. When you say, “I’m sorry,” look the person in the eye.
6. Be engaged at least six months before you get married.
7. Believe in love at first sight.
8. Never laugh at anyone’s dreams. People who don’t have dreams don’t have much.
9. Love deeply and passionately. You might get hurt but it’s the only way to live life completely.
10. In disagreements, fight fairly. No name calling.
11. Don’t judge people by their relatives.
12. Talk slowly but think quickly.
13. When someone asks you a question you don’t want to answer, smile and ask, “Why do you want to know?”
14. Remember that great love and great achievements involve great risk.
15. Call your Mom while you can.
16. Say “bless you” when you hear someone sneeze.
17. When you lose, don’t lose the lesson.
18. Remember the three R’s: Respect for self; Respect for others; Responsibility for all your actions.
19. Don’t let a little dispute injure a great friendship.
20. When you realize you’ve made a mistake, take immediate steps to correct it.
21. Smile when picking up the phone. The caller will hear it in your voice.
22. Marry a man/woman you love to talk to. As you get older, their conversational skills will be as important as any other.
23. Spend some time alone.
24. Open your arms to change, but don’t let go of your values.
25. Remember that silence is sometimes the best answer.
26. Read more books and watch less TV.
27. Live a good, honorable life. Then when you get older and think back, you’ll get to enjoy it a second time.
28. Trust in God but lock your car.
29. A loving atmosphere in your home is so important. Do all you can to create a tranquil harmonious home.
30. In disagreements with loved ones, deal with the current situation. Don’t bring up the past.
31. Read between the lines.
32. Share your knowledge. It’s a way to achieve immortality.
33. Be gentle with the earth.
34. Pray. There’s immeasurable power in it.
35. Never interrupt when you are being flattered.
36. Mind your own business.
37. Don’t trust a man/woman who doesn’t close his/her eyes when you kiss.
38. Once a year, go someplace you’ve never been before.
39. If you make a lot of money, put it to use helping others while you are living. That is wealth’s greatest satisfaction.
40. Remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a stroke of luck.
41. Learn the rules then break some.
42. Remember that the best relationship is one where your love for each other is greater than your need for each other.
43. Judge your success by what you had to give up in order to get it.
44. Remember that your character is your destiny.
45. Approach love and cooking with reckless abandon.

d me a couple of hours later and told me he’s felt the same way all day. We’ve made tentative plans for dinner at home together.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

And Dale, I really really am very sorry. I love you.

I’m having a crappy day. I’m starting to think it must have something to do with the upcoming full moon, ’cause others I know are sick/breaking up/generally feeling crappy.

Normally, I don’t get much rest at night because I’m a light sleeper and I tend to toss and turn a lot, waking myself in the process. Oddly, the past two nights, I’ve fallen asleep with no problems, slept through the night (as far as I know), and have just woken feeling terrible. I’ve been so tired and headachy… and cranky.

I fought with a friend online last night ’cause I’m scared she’s going to get back with an ex-boyfriend who’s already broken her heart twice. I’ve been overly emotional lately too, so I was actually sitting at my desk crying at one point. I feel bad that we live far apart, but maybe that’s a good thing because if I was still in VA, I’d probably have driven to her place to kick her ass.

I fought with Dale. Stupid stuff, but we reached the point where he stormed out of the apartment and went to Rick and Aaron’s. When he got home, he slept on the couch. We haven’t spoken since last night.

Today, as I said earlier, I feel pretty bad. Aaron sent me a “how’s it going?” email and I wrote a short depressed email. He wrote again, with some more bad news. I wrote back a longer depressed email. It ended with this:

I’m really sorry that things aren’t working out with you and Stace. Maybe in the future. If not, you’ll still got a friend in her.

I’m sorry about Rick being sick.

I’m sorry about Xxxxx getting dumped by Zzzzz and having to have one of his best friends help her move out.

I’m sorry that… another guy just gave his notice (here). We just finished replacing the last guy who quit, and still have three OTHER open positions.

I’m sorry I fought with Dale. I still haven’t heard from him. (though I told Phae about the fight and she agrees with why I was upset, though she said I did overreact.)

Shit, I think I’m going to cry.

Then I sat here in my cubicle and did just that.

I should have added that I was sorry I don’t know DHTML enough to figure out why a design that looks fantastic in IE5 could look so crappy in Netscape4.

On a lighter note, Jerrold is making me envious. He has a webcam set up in his office, and he bought special software for it so that it’s closer to real-time streaming than the typical new-image-uploaded-every-30-or-60-seconds. I’ve been wanting to get a webcam for a while now. I think it’s neat to be able to see Jerrold or Scott on their cams as I talk to them online. If I get a webcam (more likely, when), I’ll probably password-lock the site and just give it out to my friends, like they’ve done. Kathie’s got a webcam too, though she hasn’t set it up yet.

Kathie and I share the same fear of being caught picking our noses by the webcams, though.

Yeah, I’m a big geek.

On an even lighter note, one of the topics on Pamie’s forum today is “Wu are you?” Under another topic someone had posted a link to a site that tells you what your Wu Tang Clan name would be. Depending upon whether I used my married name or my maiden name, I’d be either “Radiophonic Oddity” or “Spunky Misunderstood Genius.” Sandra and Leesa think the latter name suits me well.

Of course, I couldn’t keep this url to myself. Kathie is “Tha Winged Cow.” Scott is “Victorian Cow.” Dale is either “Big Wicker Ventriloquist” or “Tha Ever So Weary Assistant.” Aaron is also “Big Wicker Ventriloquist” or “Tha Eurythmic King of Nowhere.” (Aaron and Dale both go by their middle names; second WuNames are from using their first names.) Oddly, my mother, dad, and sister are all “100-Watt Warlock.” Alexis *snicker* “Greasy Choirboy.”

OK, I’m a huge flaming geek.

Well, I’m feeling a little better now. We just had an Ice Cream Social to welcome the employees who’ve started in the last month. It was catered by Amy’s Ice Cream. Woo hoo! Sorry out-of-towners, Amy’s is Austin-local. How could a bowl of Mexican Vanilla topped with fresh strawberries not make someone feel better? (Of course, I did chase it with a couple of Tylenols.)

I do have to confess I wasn’t feeling that social so after a little bit of small talk, I crept back to my cube to write this.

*grin* I just sent the WuName link to my teammates. I work with “Ungrateful Ninja” (who studies Eastern medicine), “Well-Liked Assman” (who happens to be female), “Sheepish Lord of Chaos,” “Dubious Masturbatah-X,” and “Jive Talkin’ Choirboy.”

This is Spunky Misunderstood Genius signing off!

OK, this is a cop-out entry. I’ve had a pretty shitty evening, but I’d rather not dump that on you. I’ve already dumped it on Scott and Phaedra. So, instead, here’s how I killed some time earlier today:

I started with an old standby, the Keirsey Temperament Sorter II. I’ve done this test every couple of years, and it’s been interesting to see how my personality has changed. I actually did this once twice, and came up with different results.

First, I got ENFJ.

The Idealists (NF): Portrait of the Teacher (eNFj)

Then I scored as an ESFP

The Artisans: Portrait of the Performer (eSfP)

At least both results agreed on the Extrovert/Feeling parts. Now, should I be a teacher or a Performer? (Performer, of course! Way more fun!)

Then I tracked down the Kingdomality test. My “medieval vocational personality” was the Benevolent Ruler.

Next up was the What Breed of Dog Are You? test. (Link seen on Beth’s site.) I got Kathie and Scott to do some of these tests, starting with this one. Kathie’s initial reaction was, “Gee, got a lot of free time?” I responded, “Not really, but I’m trying to avoid work right now.”

I took the dog test several times. We all did. I refused to accept that I was a Basset Hound. Then I refused to accept I was a Poodle. Finally, I ended up as a Yorkshire Terrier, which I still thought was way wrong.

*sigh*

Two more times of futzing resulted in another Yorkie and another Poodle. Scott was either a Basset Hound or a Golden Retriever. Kathie was an Irish Setter or a Golden Retriever. I IM’d her and asked, “So you’re a big dumb dog and I’m a small yappy dog?”

Moving on, we all took How High Maintenance Are You? Kathie and I scored about the same: You are hiding a high maintenance diva in there somewhere! Scott scored low. Kathie pointed out that he was a guy and it didn’t count. Scott said that, “guys have feelings too!”

Of course, Kathie and I had to find out How Loony Are You? I think I outscored Kathie on that one. Probably because I had to answer yes to have you ever “Voluntarily tasted or eaten soap?”

Scott wanted me to take the Are You Sure Your Man’s Straight? test. Sorry, Scott. Dale passed by a nice margin. *grin*

But, my favorite test was Seven Deadly Sins. While doing the test I wasn’t sure what you were supposed to learn, but the results made me laugh my ass off.

You are guilty of SLOTH. Based on your responses, we’re surprised that you even finished this test. Our guess is that you only took it as a way to get out of other, more pressing tasks. It appears that you’re probably living a life centered around avoiding work. (Well… scroll back up and see what I said to Kathie earlier.) Do your weekends consist of short excursions from beneath the warm covers of your bed? (Dale doesn’t call me Snorlax for no reason.) Do you consider TV Guide a great source of literature? Although you may deem the remote control one of the great design achievements of the century, don’t forget that someone had to do a little work to invent it. Why don’t you try your luck and put a little effort into something as well? You may be surprised at what you can accomplish when you commit to something.

And there ya go.

OK, I tried cooking again. I was supposed to last night, but I wussed ’cause I was tired and grumpy, and the phones had been ringing off the hook for Dale. Some problem with a new system, and he was the lucky fellow on call.

But tonight, I figured I’d give it a try. I was going to be making Korean spicy pork using my Mom’s recipe. I’ve never used her recipe before. Come to think of it, I’ve never cooked pork before. But, I love her spicy pork and Dale and I hadn’t had any since she was here in July, so I figured I’d try, and use Dale and our friends as guinea pigs.

I hadn’t known how much pork to get (’cause I didn’t know how many people would be over) so I got 3 1/2 lbs of thin-sliced pork from a local Asian Market. Dale boggled when I told him how much I got. Guess it was good I hadn’t gotten the fourth package.

Halfway through making the marinade, Dale came into the kitchen to tell me how good it smelled. Preparation of the marinade went fairly smoothly. I discovered that chopping the garlic, then putting it into a ziploc bag, then gently pounding it with a rubber mallet was a great way to crush it. The chopper I got from Pampered Chef took care of the ginger. And, I managed not to cut myself when chopping the green onion. I was off to a good start!

But when I got the pork out of the ‘fridge, I discovered it wasn’t fully thawed. I stuck the first package in the microwave on defrost for a minute. (Dale took care of the other two packages for me.) When the package said “thinly sliced” they really meant it! The pork was sliced to a transparent paper-thin. Let me tell you, it really sucked to pull 3 1/2 lbs of tissue-thin pork apart. Dale suggested I just dump handfuls at a time, but I wanted to be sure it all got nicely coated with the marinade. I think was the most time-consuming part of the whole process. I quickly realized the mixing bowl wasn’t going to hold all that meat, so I dumped it into a deep-dish pizza pan and used a spatula for mixing.

Creative cooking, heh.

I was afraid I hadn’t made enough marinade, though I’d doubled Mom’s recipe. It’s not surprising, since she’s a non-recipe-using cook. It’s just a few scoops of this and a few sprinkles of that. I had to get her to estimate measurements when I wrote down the recipe. At least the proportions were right, just not enough for that much meat. So I quickly mixed up more of the base marinade, dumped it in the pizza pan, and put the last package of meat on top.

Next came the actual cooking part. I was scared. I realized I didn’t even know what temperature to set the range to in order to fry the meat. I’m so clueless in the kitchen. (On a related note, Leesa just let me borrow the book she got from her mom called, “Where’s Mom Now That I Need Her?“) I figured I’d try ‘medium’ and see if the meat cooked too fast or too slow.

I guessed wisely. Still, it took a while to cook all that. Which turned out to be good because Dale had forgotten to start the rice cooker.

I’d bought a package of cheap plastic chopsticks from the Asian Market, and that was also wise as we didn’t really have any other utensils that would be good for turning the meat. Despite being half-Korean, I’m not very adept with chopsticks. The lower one usually slips down longer than the top and I can’t pick things up until I realize this. And my hand starts to cramp after a while. But, I persevered.

I was a little concerned because whenever my mom makes this type of pork or I have it at a restaurant, it has a really dark reddish color. Mine was just turning a bland light brown. But, Dale and Aaron both came in and sampled the cooked meat and declared it very good. Maybe I just didn’t use enough of the pepper paste. I’ll have to ask my mom about that.

As I began the last batch, I told the guys (Dale, Aaron, and Steve) to go ahead and get started. Steve was at the table in a flash. By the time I’d finished cooking and started my own plate, Steve was back for seconds. Rick hadn’t been able to make it over, so I put aside some pork for him before it was all gone. I was shocked when I realized it had taken me over two hours to prepare and cook this meal.

We sat down and started watching Stargate as we ate. I’d gotten myself more than I could eat so Dale finished off mine, while Steve got the last of the meat in the serving dish. No leftovers. (Well, rice doesn’t count.)

Though I didn’t think it tasted nearly as good as my Mom’s, it was pretty good for a first attempt. I’m rather proud of myself. I was heartily complimented by the guys, and I didn’t even set off the smoke detectors once. (Hey, that incident was one month ago today!)

Rounding out my trio of kitties is Pumpkin, a.k.a. Pumpkin Pie. He’s the youngest and newest member of our little family.

Not long after Dale and I had moved back to Austin, I became obsessed with the idea of getting another cat. As if two in a one bedroom apartment weren’t more than enough. After a couple of weeks, Dale finally agreed. We tried Town Lake Animal Shelter first, because I’d fallen in love with a kitten there that I’d seen on the Austin Pets Alive! web site. But, by the time we’d gotten to the pound, the waiting list for the black and white kitten known as Spike was already 4 or 5 people long.

Through the Austin Pets Alive! site, I learned about the No-Kill Handbill. Through that, we learned of a young orange male cat named Pumpkin. After several emails between me and Pumpkin’s foster mother (I passed a test without realizing I was being tested), she agreed to let us come out to see the little boy. Dale and I fell instantly in love. It didn’t hurt that Pumpkin had also been born on Dale and my wedding day (Oct. 31, 1998 - all the kittens in his litter had Halloween-ish names).

Dale and I couldn’t understand why Pumpkin hadn’t been adopted. He was the last of his litter. Alice (an official SPCA foster) liked us, so we got to take the little guy home that night. We learned very quickly that Pumpkin absolutely hates cat carriers and cars. And baths. Like Maggie, he smelt icky and had fleas, so Dale and I had to wrestle him into the sink when we got home. He fought so much, we had to give up after only a cursory wash for fear he’d hurt himself.

Despite having his vet records, we took him to our own vet. He got a clean bill of health. And we got flea stuff for all three cats.

Unfortunately, Maggie and Spritel didn’t take to Pumpkin as we’d hoped. We initially tried the ‘let them meet gradually’ approach, but that was hard to do in a one bedroom apartment. We had to give that up and let them tough it out. Spritel seemed stunned and hurt. Maggie was downright pissed. She hissed and growled every time she saw him. And, she hid under our big orange chair and wouldn’t come out for three days.

Spritel had been the alpha cat, just because he’s twice Maggie’s size. When Pumpkin came along, we feared Spritel’s insecurities would become a problem again, and he’d lose his alpha cat status. Though Pumpkin was non-aggressive, he didn’t put up with the hisses and swipes meekly. After a month or so, Maggie and Spritel realized Pumpkin wasn’t going anywhere, and a tentative truce began. It helped that Pumpkin didn’t seem to want to be alpha cat. He was happy just playing with his little pompom toys. However, he and Spritel are both little pigs, and when one’s eating, the other has to butt his head in the way and eat too. We had to set another bowl aside just for Maggie.

Once we moved to North Austin, and into a spacious 2 bedroom apartment, feline relations improved greatly. I can’t wait to see what they think of our house once we’re in it! Our babies will be able to stake out entire rooms.

Pumpkin is quiet a character. He’s loving, but not too cuddly. He likes to be carried, but he doesn’t sit on your lap much. He loves to play. We inadvertently taught him to play fetch. One night, he brought one of his little balls onto the bed and was playing with it between my feet. I grabbed it and threw it out of the bedroom. He ran off, got it, and brought it back.

I threw it again. He brought it back. I threw. Fetch. Lather, rinse, repeat.

A new game was born. He’s even learned that ‘ball’ is his toy and ‘fetch’ is the game. Unfortunately, he tends to lose the little things quickly. I’m sure there are some in the sofa, but I don’t know where the other 50 or so are. We have to make special trips to PetCo to get the right balls. PetsMart, which is closer, doesn’t carry them. Figures.

We dish the balls out one at a time. For a while, I started stashing the extras inside a musical jewelry box that sat on the coffee table. Pumpkin quickly learned to associate the tune the box played with the appearance of a new ball.

One night, after we’d gone to bed, I briefly heard the tinkling of the music box, followed by the clack as the lid fell shut. Music. Clack. *crash* Music. I got up to discover that Pumpkin had knocked the box off the coffee table and was in the throes of ecstasy as he tried to decide which ball to steal. The jewelry box and remaining balls went into a cabinet.

Some months later, I brought out the box again. I’d bought a LOT of balls during a recent trip to the pet store. Dale and I went away for Thanksgiving for a total of two days. By the time we returned, the box was open and the eight or so balls that had been inside it were no where in sight.

Little thief.

One of Pumpkin’s other games is to get inside or under whatever he can. Boxes, the miscut piece of wrapping paper, the edge of the rug in the computer room, the mat by the front door, and most recently, inside the case of a pillow lying on the floor. He’ll just get inside these spaces and go to sleep. Sometimes, he gets in those spaces and chases his tail. It’s really cute. He’s now our little Carpet Shark.

As a kitten, Pumpkin was obsessed with his tail. Wiggle it in front of his face, and he’d go into attack mode. He’d catch his tail and just chew and chew on the end of it. He’d spin in circles trying to get it. Has anyone seen that episode of The Simpsons where Bart writes on the back of Homer’s head? And, in an attempt to see what’s written, Homer runs around and around in a circle until he falls on the floor, then he just spins there? It’s kind of like that.

Pumpkin will flop down anywhere and go to sleep. Sometimes I look at him and think, “That’s got to be uncomfortable!” but it doesn’t seem to bother him. One of his favorite places to chill (as long as someone’s nearby) is in the bathroom sink.

Pumpkin, in addition to being friendly, is a beautiful cat. I’ve never seen markings like his. They seem like a cross between Tabby and Bengal, but we know he’s a mutt. His fur is very silky, unlike other cats I’ve touched. It feels more like human baby hair than fur. It’s like he’s got no undercoat.

All of these features make this kitty very popular with other people, as well as with me and Dale. Kevin keeps wanting to take him home, despite having two cats of his own.

Nope, sorry. He’s our baby, and you can’t have him. Neener neener!