ninanevermore: (Default)
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What’s it been? Two weeks? More?

I think if I could sleep, I’d be able to write. I want to write. I think about writing every day. But evening rolls around, and I fall into bed and can’t move.

Until 3 AM, that is. That’s when I wake up. The first time. And then at 3:30, or maybe 4. This waking at 30 to 60 minute intervals continues until my alarm goes off and I drag myself into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee.

Which lead me to make this declaration: miracles are overrated.

A Halleluiah I could have lived without; )
ninanevermore: (Marriage)
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“Have you been paying attention to the news out of The Woodlands lately?” Jeff asked, “I think the place is cursed.”

I told him I hadn’t noticed any curses. I haven’t been paying much attention, but I drive through the master-planned splendor that is The Woodlands, Texas every day on my way to work, and I haven’t noticed any obvious signs of a hex. There is some construction along my route that has part of the road closed down to one lane going either way, but that is more of a life-around-Houston thing than an obvious curse.

Dying for decent parking. )
ninanevermore: (Father and son)
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During his bath the other night my 6-year-old son gave me this lesson on modesty and how civilized people should dress when out in public: "My back is not private. Only my willy and my bottom are private. But not my back or my tummy."

He paused. "Still, it’s nice to wear a shirt."


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ninanevermore: (Default)
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Sometimes, you do go to be angry at your spouse despite the advice that you should not. A good night’s sleep is sometimes needed for both of you to pointlessness of a big argument you had when you were both tired and cranky. On these occasions, the best way to start the day is with an apology, which is why my husband turned to me in bed this morning and said, “I’m sorry about last night. And I want you to know that I don’t really want a divorce.”

I pondered this for a second. “I know, sweetie,” I said, “And just so you know, I don’t really want to shoot you.”

There is something to be said for going to bed angry. Sure, when you are trying to fall asleep it can be inconvenient to have to press yourself against the edge of the bed so that you don’t risk accidentally touching the person you share it with. But eating your words for breakfast is not so bad a start to your day, provided you pour some sugar on them first.


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ninanevermore: (Motherhood)
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If I am ever queen of the world, daylight savings will be eliminated. I’m not bitter about it today at this moment; in fact, I’m happy that the time is back to normal. As a person with a somewhat rigid circadian rhythm, the clock and my brain are somewhat in sync again for the next few months. The US Congress has been going to great lengths to see that they are in sync for a shorter and shorter part of the year.

I suppose I could just up and move to Arizona, but all my family and connections are in Texas. Besides, I am a Gulf Coast woman by birth, and I like the lush greenness of my native soil. I love magnolia and live oak trees, and moving someplace where they are not everywhere I look would cause me grief. I would be perfectly content if the government would quit $%&ing with my clock and leave it be.

Round and round )
ninanevermore: (Default)
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I’ve learned a few things trolling the Internet searching for (non-pirated) music I can download for free. I do not, as my husband claims, “abuse the system.” It’s not like I’m taking more than one of any free download. Free is free. And I don’t just download what is free; it’s just one of the means I use to discover new things. In plenty of cases, I have found artists that I went on to purchase music from. I have a playlist on my iPod called “Shopping List” with songs from these artists. I also troll the playlists on iTunes to discover artists to feed my addiction, and on occasion I make a purchase or two. In order to keep within a budget, I buy iTunes gift cards (Gifts! For myself! Fun!) so I always have a few bucks of credit to buy something I just have to have. I limit myself to limiting it to $15 or so to keep myself from going hog wild on a music spree (as much as I would love to).

The Art of Collecting Free Samples )
ninanevermore: (Default)
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I’ve heard it said that only the good die young. It has occurred to me that this is a mixed blessing in my case. Since this rule protects the mediocre as well as it truly evil, I’m still here and in pretty good health. On the other hand, this leaves me surrounded with a lot of mediocre and bad people who also don’t seem to be going anywhere soon.

*sigh*


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ninanevermore: (Default)
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Yesterday I was looking through a personnel file from the franchise in Beaumont for a new security guard to make sure all the paperwork was complete and in order. I printed out the scanned new-hire documents and then clicked open the JPG file of the young man’s picture, which made me catch my breath when I caught sight of the image.

"Look at you," I said softly to no one in particular once I could breathe again. "Your mama must be proud; what a pretty child she raised."

Jeepers, Creepers, Where’d you get those Peepers? )
ninanevermore: (Default)
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I felt sorry for the job applicant waiting in the lobby when I left for my lunch break today. She seemed nice enough, and was well spoken enough when I told her it would be a few more minutes before the operations manager could see her, but she was wasting her time. She wasn’t going to be hired. I could see that from just looking at her.

I want to work, but I don’t know how. )
ninanevermore: (Default)
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I’ve been hearing and reading in the media that country singer Chely Wright is the “first country and western singer to come out of the closet as gay.”

Is anyone else old enough to remember when k.d. lang was the first country and western singer to come out of the closet as a lesbian? Or if it happened more than 15 years ago does it no longer count?

I’m just curious.



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ninanevermore: (Default)
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I have a huge yard, front and back. It has a lot of things growing in it, including trees. I have at least a half dozen varieties of oak, two varieties of pine, a red maple, lots of yaupons, some sweet gums, an ash, peach trees, a pear tree, some Chinese tallow, some creep myrtles, and several things I can’t identify but I’m always willing to learn. On Saturday I saw a new comer growing beside the fence and I wanted to know if it was friend (something pretty that will add to the ambiance of my yard) or foe (something weedy and undesirable), so I did what I always do: I plucked off some leaves and took them in the house so I could research their origin on the computer.

At least now, I know. )
ninanevermore: (Default)
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It’s the quiet ones you have to watch; at least that’s what I hear. As a quiet one myself (though once I get to know people I let down my guard and they tend to forget this and even scoff at the idea of it) I can tell you why you might want to watch us a little more closely: because we are watching you.

Tell about yourself without using the word I )
ninanevermore: (Default)
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Lately it’s occurred to me that my life feels like I am lost in the woods and that I seem to be walking in circles and running into the same landmarks over and over again.

Take my job, for example. Not only do I work with two guys (Frank and Dave) who have the same first names as the two guys I dated before I met my husband, but in the office around the corner from me there is a guy from New York named Mike, just like there was a guy from New York named Mike in the office across from me at Big Death. Frank just hired a new guy to work with Dave, an intense semi-obsessive guy named Ron, like my intense, semi-obsessive kid brother who is also named Ron. The landmarks I recognize from my days at the tech company are the guy named Joe in the front office and the opinionated Cajun woman in down the hall (to be fair, all Cajun women are opinionated). The Entrepreneur is identical to the other entrepreneurs I’ve met, with his love of coffee and his drive constantly in overdrive. I'd know that air of affable ruthlessness anywhere. I’ve met him before wearing a different face and different clothes, but it was definitely him.

Then there is the fact that I’m making the same salary that I made 10 years ago.

Oh, yeah. I’m not moving forward at all. This is one big circle. That clearing is the one I rested last time I came this way. There were berries to eat then, but I stripped them from the vines - at least the ripe and almost ripe ones - so there's nothing to eat there now. I’ve seen that tree up ahead before. Notice how the moss is growing in a pattern that almost looks like a laughing face when you look at it from this distance? It’s the same tree, the same moss. I’m sure of it.



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ninanevermore: (Default)
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My husband and I were discussing last night where we should shop for food now that the local family owned store is gone. We started shopping there, originally, out of a belief that it is a good practice to shop from local vendors over big, national chains, whenever possible. We kept shopping there for other reasons.

“They were just so nice,” Jeff said. “When you walked in, they always said, ‘Hi! How’re you doing?’ You could be 20 feet away and they always made a point to talk to you. You walk into any other big store, no one cares that you’re there; you’re just a face in the crowd. And the cashiers at Klein’s didn’t ignore you and talk to each other like they do at the other stores.”

“They talked to each other, but they included you in the conversation,” I said. “It was sweet. They made you feel like you belonged.” Generations of local people worked there over the years. The teenagers who worked there grew up, moved on, married, and when their own kids needed a job they went to work for Mr. Klein, as well. He would remember their parents and I suppose that was job reference enough. It was a family thing. Those of us who were customers were part of the family, too.

You pay for every penny you save. )
ninanevermore: (Default)
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Monday through Thursday, when I drag my sleepy self out of bed, I always flip the alarm switch on my clock to off and then flip it back to on so it is set to go off for the next morning. I think that one of life’s simple pleasures is waking up on Friday morning, flipping the switch to off and then consciously making a point to leave it there, knowing I don’t have to get up at 5:30 the next morning. I always smile in the darkness of the predawn, knowing I can sleep through the next predawn and wake to brilliant sunshine.

On the other hand, one of life’s major drags is when I forget to do this and wake up early on a Saturday when I don’t have to.


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ninanevermore: (Default)
One problem about working at a new job is that it’s kind of hard to goof off in the first few weeks, what with all the training and people always checking in to see how you’re doing. Blogging in a new work place can be downright impossible.

I’m still getting a feel for the new environment, though I’ve kind of fallen in love with the commute. The traffic is relatively light out this way. I’m not used to that. No relationship is perfect, though, and I do have a couple of complaints about the drive. For one, I almost feel cheated about not being able to listen to National Public Radio or my iPod the way I used to.

Nice and Calm )
ninanevermore: (Default)
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Which kind of bites, because I really don't have any other game plan right now.



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ninanevermore: (Default)
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I've heard complaints that it's trite that everyone stops and tells their story about where they were and what they were doing when they heard about the terrorist attacks on September 11, 2001. I've heard someone say that unless you were in New York City on that day or one of the other places that got hit, then your story doesn't matter. That view fails to take into account that it was a shared experience for millions of people, all at once. While those of us who were far from Ground Zero that day did not experience the terror, we collectively felt like we had been punched in the stomach. We stopped what we were doing, and as a nation tried to comprehend what was happening. The stories of the victims and their families are by far the moist poignant, but there is a collective poignancy to all the tales of, "It was an ordinary day...until the moment it wasn't."

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Here's Mine )
ninanevermore: (Default)
Yesterday a guy down the hall from me at the office was walking around showing off the souvenir program a friend who works at one of our California locations sent him. He was very proud of it.

Considering the business we are in, of course I am talking about a souvenir funeral program. Farrah Fawcett's funeral program, to be exact. We didn't get Michael, but we did get Farrah. For the most part, it just looked like any other funeral program, except for the photo of the decedent on the front. Most people go for a tasteful head shot of the dearly departed, but the Fawcett family went for this photo:

Farrah Funeral Program


A starlet to the end, I guess.


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ninanevermore: (Default)
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It occurred to me this morning that the water cooler talk about the passing of Michael Jackson sounds a little different when you work at a large corporation that owns funeral homes.

I've overheard the following remarks today:

"So, do you know who has Michael Jackson? Do we?"

"I don't know. No one's saying."

"Surely we do! I mean, you don't think they'd trust a mom-and-pop with someone like him, do you?"

"Maybe. You'd think we would, but I haven't heard anything."

"Hmmm. What about Farrah?"

"Dunno."

It's not that the people I work with are morbid. If we were in the catering industry, the same kind of talk would happen whenever a celebrity announced a wedding. I guess business is business no matter what business you're in, and a high-profile contract is always bound to attract a lot of speculation.




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