The Windows of My Soul

Trying.

2012-01-13T15:03:00.001-08:00

Life's been pretty fucking stressful, lately. I crashed my car and had to figure out how I was going to pay for repairs and a rental for the interim. I've been sharing a one-bedroom apartment with an infant, which has been... interesting. Every day I'm overwhelmed, trying to mentally budget sleep, transport, and finances.

But, I have an AMAZING boyfriend who actually finds JOY in making my life easier. He spoils me rotten in ways both tangible and intangible. He calls me every day, usually twice. He tells me jokes to distract me from my shitty circumstances, but has no problem holding my hand if I go to "the dark side". His affections are unsolicited and constant. He never misses an opportunity to tell me not just that he loves me, but why he loves me.

And he's constantly finding ways to give me reasons to think of him throughout the day. He sent me a sealed bag of his used t-shirts to sleep in, he gifted me 6 electronic volumes of Neil Gaiman's "Sandman" series, and bought me the lamest Valentine's Day Card ever - because he knew it would make me laugh. (Well, at least he THINKS it was the lamest Valentine's Day Card ever. I took his declaration as a challenge, and sent my rebuttal.)

I've gotta say, a shitty day can turn around pretty quickly when you come home to find a case of fancy root beer that he shipped, just because he thought you'd like it.

The fucker even sent me money, because he knew I was freaking out about paying for car repairs. That one was hard to swallow. I'm not going to lie, I kind of had a tear-filled panic attack when I found out. I never thought I'd be the type who needed rescue. My pride was bruised. But at the same time, I felt kind of confused and disoriented, because I never thought I'd find the type of Man who was motivated enough to want to try.

Direct Quote:

"Taking care of you is a delight. Everyone should be so blessed as to have someone like you to need them."

That's hard for me to respond to. I'm working on accepting that I deserve this. I'm doing quite well, by my own standards. He inspires me to want to try to be the person he sees me as. She sounds lovely.

So, I'm trying to take care of myself. (My roommate has helped, a lot.)

I now have a regular doctor, and I've been taking a pain management regime for two weeks. Funny enough, the prescribed (non-narcotic) painkillers end up costing me less than the OTC crap I've been eating like candy for the past year.

Today he started me on antidepressants. The one he prescribed is apparently supposed to help with my funks, social anxiety, and even binge-eating.

We'll see how this goes.

This should help me through the winter. Which is good. Because I KNOW that good things are coming for me in the spring. That lover of mine is flying down for an entire week toward the end of April. Suffice it to say, I'm pretty excited. We're going to a big Sci-Fi Con in Denver, and booking a room.

Every day he provides me with another piece of evidence as to just why he is the man for me.

He's 850 miles away, but I feel closer to him than... anyone... I've told him things I've never even admitted out loud.

We're fucked.

(It's totally worth it.)

Another Year

2011-12-23T16:39:00.000-08:00

Nobody really ever explained to me that the older you get, the faster time moves.

I remember what I was doing exactly one year ago, and the memory doesn't seem all that distant. The lease renewal showed up on my apartment door the other day, and I realized that another year of my life is behind me.

I can't really say that I'm where I expected to be, because somewhere along the lines, I stopped guessing what the future held.

In the coming year I will enter the second half of my Twenties. I imagine this means that I am fast-approaching the point in my life at which I will be expected to act like an adult.

I'll figure it out when I get there.

I've never been a big fan of New Year's resolutions, but I can tell you that there are a few things I'm looking forward to in 2012...

I'll have more chances to be near the man I love. Perhaps I'll be moving out of the ghetto, and into a HOUSE. I might get a new schedule at work. I'll probably get a few more raises.

This was a year of emotional growth for me. I feel worthy when things go right. I feel proud when people compliment me. I learned that there are still Men who behave as Men, and that I have every right to demand to be treated like a Lady.

And the biggest epiphany...

I've come to peace with my broken-babymaker.

Circumstances being as they are, I've had the opportunity to reevaluate my urgency towards motherhood. In sharing a one-bedroom apartment with an infant, I've realized:

1) This is as close as I'll likely get to being a mother.

2) I'm okay with that.

And I promise that I'm not just saying this because I'm dating a man who doesn't want kids. NONE of the guys I dated wanted kids. (At first.)

My aspirations for motherhood were formed at a time when I had a different view of how my life would play out. I didn't think that the economy would tank. I didn't think I, among many others of my generation, would be circumstantially forced into "Plan B" scenarios for survival. My Disney Childhood conditioning paired with my golden-child small-town upbringing wired me to believe that I'd have a white-picket fence, an career-employed husband, and a stay-at-home writing career all by the time that my biological clock started ticking.

Instead I work in a call center for a major corporation, making lower-middle-class wages, with five credit cards, living in a dodgy neighborhood. I get by better than most, but it's not the lifestyle I envisioned bringing a kid into. I could manage if I had to, but my passion for child development would be dimmed by my circumstances.

I really love working with kids, and I get a lot of gratification out of helping them learn and discover things in the world. But mostly I love it because I'm so damned GOOD at it.

And I've realized... Just because I'm good at something, doesn't mean that I have to build a life around it. I'm really good at kegel massages; this doesn't mean I should become a call-girl.

This is my life. It's not the one I expected, but it could be a whole fuck of a lot worse.

I'll take it.

And now, I'll play you out with my year-end gift to the interwebs...

A cover of MyHope, originally by Molly Lewis.

The Perfect Fit

2011-11-30T20:35:00.000-08:00

Life is pretty wonderful.

I mean... I'm in pain all the time from the weather, I spend all day getting verbally abused by assholes, and I never seem to accomplish productive things anymore... But I'm HAPPY.

I'm kicking ass at work. My stats are skyrocketing, and I'm slated to hit max commission this cycle for the first time... ever.

My love life is fucking BRILLIANT. I know I said I wouldn't blog about his visit... So, suffice it to say that things went about a gazillion times better than I could have imagined. I've never felt so... female before. I don't have to wear the pants in this dynamic. It's INCREDIBLE. He embodies the things I've been WANTING (as opposed to settling for). It's new territory. To be honest, it's fucking terrifying at times... But when he was here? It didn't fucking matter. It was powerfully peaceful, after the initial panic-attack-giggle-fits subsided.

Yeah, I think I'm keeping this one. And the amazing part is? He is a firm supporter of this plan. Mind=BLOWN.

My home life is pretty bitchin, too. I have a roommate now. Two, actually. It's surprising as fuck that this is something I'm excited about, because I generally prefer living alone.

My friend and half-kidding Lesbian Lover, Bambi, moved in with her 3 month old son, Liam. I'm gonna be honest. It's cramped quarters 'round here. But it's actually worth it.

I have a HOUSEWIFE!

SERIOUSLY.

I didn't want rent from her, because I can easily afford this place on my own - and I don't like relying on other people if I don't have to. Besides. She's working on getting her finances together.

In exchange for housing and transportation, she has become my housewife.

Like... Handing me a thermos of coffee on my way out the door, having lunch ready for me when I come home on break, dinners planned, white-board heart messages, dishes washed daily... WIFE.

As an added bonus, there's a baby. And it's not mine, so I can give it back. But I also get to take part in the super-gratifying joy of watching and contributing to his development. Win Fucking Win.

I feel as though (almost) all of my physical and emotional needs are being met right now, and it's pretty fucking awesome.

In a perfect world, I wouldn't hate the company I work for in the job I'm kicking ass at. In a perfect world, the man I love would be within booty-call distance. In a perfect world, Bambi, Liam and I would be sharing a charming Victorian on the West Side instead of a one-bedroom apartment. In a perfect world, I would be able to conceive/carry/raise my own child.

The thing is... the world isn't perfect. But that's okay, because things remain interesting. I'll never get bored. Circumstances might not be the perfect fit... But they sure as fuck are comfortable enough for me.

Play Your Ukulele Badly, Play Your Ukulele Loudly

2011-11-18T13:26:00.001-08:00

As previously mentioned, in an attempt to help pass the time before the visit of my long distance boyfriend, I've taken up the Ukulele.

At first, I bought a tiny little cheap-o number off of Amazon for $20. Within 24 hours, I had recorded my first cover song to the you-tubes, and fallen COMPLETELY in love with the instrument.

I decided to upgrade. A few days later, I went down to my local Guitar Center, and picked up this gorgeous little piece.

I love the little fucker. Blisters be damned, I've found myself rushing home to practice on my lunch breaks.

Last night I went to a local dive on karaoke night, and convinced the KJ to allow me to perform a song.

A random drunk dude kissed me on the cheek afterward, and told me I was a true artist.

It was sweet... In a creepy sort of way.

So I decided to record another cover... With video this time. I uploaded myself playing and singing Amanda Palmer's "Ukulele Anthem" to youtube, and tweeted the link.

But see... Here's the cool part.

Amanda Palmer saw the tweet.

Not only did she see the tweet, but she watched the video.

Not only did she watch the video, but she retweeted it to her 529,000 followers.

Not only did she retweet it to her 529,000 followers, but she then tweeted me directly... TWICE... To provide commentary.

@avandamanders your cover is wonderful!!! your voice is beautiful!!!!#UkuleleAnthem

@avandamanders i especially loved your cheerful delivery of the "holy fuck!" lyric. well done!!! *clapclapclapclapclapclapclap*

Mind. Fucking. Blown.

If there's anything more awesome than having one of your musical heroes compliment you on your art... It sure as fuck hasn't happened to me.

I woke up to countless emails, tweets, and facebook notifications - from friends and strangers alike - showering me in compliments and love.

At the time I'm writing this blog, the video has 140 hits. Not exactly viral... But it's not fucking bad for being up less than 24 hours.

So... Suffice it to say, I'm in a pretty damned good mood.

Quit the bitching on your blog, and stop pretending art is hard.

2011-11-11T17:01:00.000-08:00

I've spent the past few weeks trying new and interesting ways to pass the time. My long-distance-boyfriend fellow is coming to town soon. The revolution will not be televised. Rather, the reunion will not be blogged about. At least, not publicly.

I'm stupid-excited about this, but I've also been freaking out a lot lately. Last time I invested this much hope and emotion in a man, I ended up in the loony bin. Granted, I was also a teenager at the time... And it was my first relationship... And I'd never lived a self-sufficient, independent adult reality...

I've got experience on my side, this go-round.

I've been trying to keep busy, so I that I won't dwell on every possible horrific outcome.

Which is why I've taken up the Ukulele!

Also, because Amanda Palmer inspired me with her "Ukulele Anthem":

So play your favorite cover songs

Especially if the words are wrong

'cuz even if your grades are bad

it doesn't mean you're failing

Do your homework with a fork

and eat your fruit loops in the dark

and bring your flask of Jack to work

and play your ukulele

Ukulele small and fierceful

Ukulele brave and peaceful

You can play the ukulele too

it is painfully simple

Play your Ukulele badly

Play your Ukulele loudly

Tell the children

Crush the Hatred

Play your Ukulele naked

I purchased a cheap purple uke off the internet, and it arrived a whole week earlier than expected. I've only had it a few hours, and I've already learned two songs. It is, in fact, painfully simple. I just need to get my rhythm down. Once I get a little better, I'll probably be posting some recordings.

Wish me luck!

This is the room one afternoon I knew I could love you

2011-10-18T16:53:00.000-07:00

I haven't posted in a while. Or, more accurately, I haven't posted here in a while. The private blog, on the other hand, has been pretty damned up to date.

Things have changed. Trouble is, present circumstances hinder my ability to discuss these circumstances in the public forum.

So I have to be vague about the details...

But suffice it to say... Things are going pretty fucking well right now.

I'm in love with a man. Not a boy. A MAN.

And... Strangely enough... He's in love with me.

Sure, I'll admit that circumstance is a bitch. We're doing this thing long distance, which is never ideal... But it's worth it.

He has MASTERED the ever-shifting but oh-so-delicate balance between the personas of a White Knight, Sexual Deviant, Intellectually Evolved Male, and Surly Bastard.

He's good for me, and I like to think that I'm good for him. We have this "accept compliments" rule that challenges my self esteem issues in ways that no therapist ever could. I've got all sorts of self confidence these days. It's the weirdest thing.

I'm pretty fucking happy. Did I mention I'm happy? I'm pretty fucking happy.

She doesn't really mind being held... When it's her own idea

2011-09-23T20:46:00.000-07:00

I'm a regular goddamned social butterfly these days.

Me.

Things have been going well.

I've started hanging out more with my ex, Frank. If you've been reading this nonsense long enough to keep up, you'll understand how weird this is. As it turns out, however, apparently people really can change.

Who knew?

We've been running a weekly game night with Bambi and the occasional stray. It's been a blast. I don't spend much time in the apartment alone anymore. Not nearly as much by comparison to a couple months ago.

Work has been pretty tolerable too, all things considered. Sure, we're busy as fuck and understaffed... But I've been doing alright. So much so, that I ranked in the top 10% of employees in the call center. And that's out of the highest performing call center in the company. (And for the record, this is a pretty big company. So big, that I won't post its name here. Cuz, well... You've heard of it.)

Although, it's funny... The company rewards its top-performing sales-people with trips to beach resorts. It rewards its top performing quality/customer-satisfaction/productivity employees with beach towels.

You can see where the corporation's priorities lie.

But to be honest with you, most of the things that bother me don't seem so bad anymore.

I work for a large heartless corporation...

BUT, I managed to trade UP from my previous job without any period of unemployment - IN THE MIDDLE OF A GODDAMNED RECESSION. That's a pretty fucking impressive feat. SO many people right now are unemployed, or forced to settle for lesser work that they are clearly overqualified for. This isn't what I want to do with my life... But this ain't too shabby, considering how things look out there.

I've been unable to conceive, despite the fact that I am a freakin' baby whisperer...

BUT, I have ready access to many friends with infants who I can help out with. I can get my baby fix anytime I want, and also get to share my insight and advice. (Seriously, I'm amazing with kids. All ages. The year working in a 0-11 daycare during high school, plus the time spent as nanny to multiple infants and toddlers helped me learn my shit. I can get a baby to stop crying, a toddler in diapers to use the toilet, a 6 year old to give a heartfelt apology to his sister, a 9 year old to have fun with their english homework... I am the rock star of the child-raising world. I was WIRED to do this shit.)

It's been a little easier to see the silver lining, lately.

Life is good.

The circle of life

2011-09-03T20:11:00.000-07:00

Last Friday, Gurt finally kicked the bucket. I knew it was going to happen. Hell, I even moved closer to work simply because I KNEW this day was coming.

Of course, it happened at an incredibly inopportune time... I was on my way back to the hospital, because Bambi had just given birth to her son.

Something dies so that something can live. Alright. I can dig it.

And for the record, he's a super awesome baby.

I spent that first night with them in the hospital, while she recovered from the c-section. It was all tar diapers and spitup and sleeplessness... And it was awesome. Totally worth the dead car.

Of course, being carless SUCKED. I mean, my mobility had already been severely limited over the course of the past year and a half - because the car barely had enough get-up-and-go to even get on the freeway. In the past 6 months, it got even worse... To the extent which I couldn't even drive more than two miles at a time without repercussions.

It got me to and from work... But that was about it.

I spent 4 days as a pedestrian. Which, in theory, shouldn't have been so bad. I mean, in college I walked or biked EVERYWHERE. But... I'm not in college anymore.

The first day I walked to work, I forgot to pack a lunch - because I was so used to being able to drive home on my lunch break. The second day, I got caught in a rainstorm on the way home.

My stepmom took pity on me, and offered to loan me one of their cars... A 2000 VW Bug. Now, I'm a big fan of that car. I borrowed it once before to make a road trip to Denver for Sandi's birthday, and fell madly in love with it.

It has keyless entry, and an alarm. The alarm is a big bonus in my neighborhood, because I've been super paranoid ever since Gurt was broken into and ransacked.

It also has an automatic sunroof, weather trim, a 6CD changer, A/C, AND it gets killer gas mileage.

A few days after she loaned me the car, she told me that she had talked it over with Dad - and they decided to give me the bug. As in, it is now mine.

In exchange, I basically just have to pay for the tags on the replacement vehicle they purchased - as well as my own tags and insurance.

So, I have a new car.

And it's sexy.

I'm pretty excited about this. I no longer feel confined to my neighborhood. I can visit friends, go for drives, GET OUT OF THE HOUSE...

The world is my burrito.

'Tachi: A Tribute

2011-08-26T19:46:00.000-07:00

In the spring of 2007, I was going through a divorce.

The man I had fallen in love with three years prior was leaving, and with good reason. I could go through the list of reasons that it didn't work, but I've wasted enough space beating that dead horse in this forum.

The fact of the matter was, it was over. We tried to part on civil terms, making a list of who should take what. We had furnished our entire townhouse very nearly from scratch, and decided to divvy up the belongings in a manner that made sense - based on our individual needs.

Then, fueled by spite and insistence from his family members, he decided to scrap the list and just clean out the place when I was at work.

Assessing my losses as I walked in, I was a little dumbstruck that he had abandoned our agreement.

I could manage it, though. It turned out for the best anyway. Sure, I loved those couches - but with all the midnight moves I executed over the course of the next year, I had come to value my portability.

Y'know... I was OKAY with it when he took the deep purple velvet couches that I had fallen in love with.

I could COPE with it when he decided to take the washer and dryer that MY PARENTS had given me.

Hell, I was even okay with the fact that he took every last floor lamp from the room that didn't have its own lighting fixtures.

BUT THAT BASTARD TOOK 'TACHI!

'Tachi, of course, was the nickname for my Hitachi Magic Wand... The most wonderful and amazing hand-held vibrator known to man.

Given that the first two years of my relationship to my (now ex) husband were executed long-distance, I had been through my fair share of vibrators. Given a libido that (if properly harnessed) could power a third world country - I became well acquainted with the disappointment associated with weak motors that die after a couple weeks of use.

'Tachi was different, though. I had already owned that device for a full year, and it still delivered immeasurable satisfaction.

Of course, my ex had no use for a "back massager". He was just trying to kick me when I was down... Not that I particularly blame him...

One of the readers of this blog heard of my plight, and had a brand new model gift-wrapped and shipped to me. Attached was a card that read "A new love for a new life..."

For the past four and a half years, this incarnation of 'Tachi has served me well. Through countless moves, bad relationships, and long dry stretches of loneliness - 'Tachi has been there for me.

Over the years, 'Tachi has earned a special place in my heart... As well as my bed.

So much so, that most of my lovers had learned better than to question or complain when they rolled over and felt a prod in their backs. So much so, that I've come into the habit of arranging my bedroom furniture around the accessibility to outlets.

I always knew this day would come. Sometimes, however, no measure of preparation can assuage the pain associated with the loss of a loved one.

Yesterday evening, I found him. Dead.

Dearest 'Tachi... What we had constituted my longest running and most successful relationship. It was real. It was special. You can never be replaced...

Okay, that's a lie. You can be replaced. Hell, for $50 + shipping, your replacements even come with attachments now.

Now if you excuse me, I need to ease my pain with a little shopping...

Still Here.

2011-08-02T18:40:00.000-07:00

I know I've been seriously slacking with the blogging nonsense as of late. In truth, my laptop has been on its last legs for a while now. The sucker got dropped over a year ago, and it was never quite the same since.

But... I bought a new one! HOORAY! It's not particularly fancy. I'm really good at spending money, but I'm REALLY BAD at spending money on myself. So, naturally, I bought the cheapest one they had that came with a webcam. Webcammery is important, you see. Mostly for #TeaTimeOnTheInterwebs. But also, so I can chat with my Seester and see the squeedles grow up.

As for everything else? Nothing particularly new. I still hate my job. I'm still caught halfway between loneliness and misanthropy.

I was losing weight for a while, but I've plateaued. I have, however, modified my eating habits. I actually eat breakfast now. There's a little less delivery and fast food. A few more salads and steamed veggies. Plus, I force myself to do AT MINIMUM 15 minutes of deliberate not-sitting-on-my-ass every day. It's usually around 30 minutes, split between the elliptical and treadmill.

Basically, I went to a couple ultrasounds with my friend Bambi. When we were waiting for the doctor, I got bored and weighed myself. I was pretty shocked to realize that between appointments, I had managed to put on ten pounds. Especially considering that she, being pregnant, only put on two. There was a whole lot of self-loathing going on, so I decided to do something about it.

I'm not exactly losing weight anymore... But I'm no longer gaining. Plus, I have more energy. So that's something, yeah?

In a week or so, I switch shifts at work. It's kind of hard to believe that it's already been that long... I wanted to go to a nice 7:30am-4:30pm, so that I could get off before the night-time rush - but not have to get up at 4:30 in the fucking morning (as I do now). Of course, fate was not so kind. I ended up getting 9:30am-6:30pm. Which is not so bad. There's a little more overlap with the evening rush than I'm comfortable with... But it could be a lot worse. I get a little more time to sleep in, which means I get a little more time to stay up. Which is nice. I haven't exactly gotten out much lately, on account of the fact that I go to bed around the time that most people start thinking about going out.

I feel pretty isolated lately... Which brings me back to the loneliness vs. misanthropy thing. It's a pain in the ass, really. Sometimes I go days at a time without actually speaking to a human face-to-face. But when I am around people, I just feel awkward and out of place. Or, worse, annoyed.

Bambi comes around once or twice a week to escape her family and keep me company. Aaaand that's the extent of my social life.

It's not all bad. I like my privacy. I like my hermit time. I like being able to do dishes in my underpants while dancing to bad nineties pop music. It's better than having to deal with roommates, that's for sure.

The new schedule also switches my days off to ones that are more conducive to socializing. Currently, they're Tuesday/Wednesday. I'm moving to Thursday/Friday. Maybe I can start going out to the bar across the street from my work with my coworkers for $2 rum and cokes again. I don't even know if they're still doing that; it's been so long since I went out.

In any case, I'm still here.

Wedding in Wonderland

2011-07-17T16:17:00.000-07:00

This is a little late, but I thought I'd finally do the post about my Seester's wedding in Crescent City.

The trip was fun. I didn't get to see as many people as I had hoped, but I got to spend a lot of time with my Mary... Plus, the wedding was epic and ridiculous.

The theme was "Alice in Wonderland". Initially, I thought that themed weddings were pretty lame. But this was great. Because we were in "Wonderland", everything was silly... And laid back.

My Seester was Alice.

Her Husband was the Mad Hatter.

The officiant was the Queen of Hearts.

My little brother Jakie was the White Rabbit.

My little sister Autumn and Sarah's new Stepdaughter Tiger Lily were the Tweedles.

The Bridesmaids were Playing Cards, my Niece Squee was The Doormouse, and her sort-of-sister-through-divorce was the Cheshire Cat.

We all walked down the aisle to Blue Man Group's cover of "White Rabbit".
An audience member objected, and the Queen ordered his beheading.
Afterwards, while giving our toasts, we played the "Clean Cup" drinking game.

My mom made a video:

I also rickrolled the wedding party... But noone there (except for my seester) "got it".

The whole thing was epic fun. I hate weddings, but this was incredibly tolerable.

Right Back Where I Started From

2011-07-02T10:56:00.000-07:00

Today I'm hopping on a plane. And then I'm going to be sitting in an airport for 4 hours. And then I'm getting on another plane. And then I'll be in Oregon.

Then, TOMORROW, I'll be in Crescent City.

It's crazy to realize that I haven't been in Crescent City for the Fourth of July in 5 years.

I miss it.

The town sucks, but they know how to throw an Independence Day festival.

It seems that every decent person that escaped returns for this one day of mingling, candy-catching, drinking, live music, and fireworks.

Colorado Springs throws festivals, too... But they aren't the same.

The Fourth of July used to be my favorite holiday. So much so, that Kris and I claimed it as our anniversary. In truth, we got together on July 2nd... (Seven years ago today, I just realized...) But the Fourth was more fun.

I don't know how many of the festivities I will be able to partake in this year, as they will coincide with my sister's wedding... Which is the real reason for my trip.

She's throwing an Alice in Wonderland themed shindig, complete with "eat me" cakes, and mad tea party. There will be pictures.

I will be her maid of honor, dressed (vaguely) as a playing card.

Work has been pretty overwhelming lately, so I'm very much ready for a vacation.

Unfortunately, this uses up the rest of my vacation time for the year... And a trip back to the town I fought so hard to escape hardly counts as a "vacation"...

But it's something.

Follow the twitterfeed (@avandamanders) for travel musings and pictures.

I'm not bringing my laptop this time, but I'll have my smartphone.

Wish me safe travels, and such.

Tasmanian Cartography and Personal Freedom

2011-06-21T09:49:00.000-07:00

Be warned: I'm talking about below-the-belt grooming. If you're reading this from the Facebook feed, proceed at your own risk.

(Image "borrowed" from here.)

It's a tough time for women. As I'm sure you know, we live in a society chock full of idealistic imagery. As photo-shopping technology has progressed, we have come to a point at which no woman is safe from the expectations handed down to us from our glossy magazine cover overlords. Even supermodels are airbrushed beyond recognition, anymore.

As a "fat chick", I can honestly say that the climate does feel a little more welcoming towards plus-size gals than it did when I was pre-pubescent. That is... If you consider a size "14" to be "plus size".

...but we are still expected to live up to certain constraints within the proverbial "beauty standard".

Breast/hip proportion, face shape, eyebrow neatness, cellulite visibility, stretchmark visibility, nose size, ass curvature... The list goes on.

It's easy enough to say "fuck it" to most of those things. We've got creams, fancy shoes, and fitted clothing to help us smooth over those "rough edges" - while still being able to proudly maintain a sense of individuality and body-image pride.

Still, there's one expectation that women in my age box are subject to that seems almost entirely unavoidable...

We are expected to have very little (if any) pubic hair.

It isn't even regarded as a choice anymore. Women are actually criticized for having any sort of "bush". Teenage girls have even taken to ritualistic and compulsive vag de-hairing, out of fear of ridicule from their peers in the locker room.

I'm a generally lazy lady. I'm honestly annoyed with the expectations to shave even my legs and armpits. And, to be honest with you, in the winter months - I refuse to fucking bother. It's funny, in a way... Once upon a time, shaving your body hair used to be a sign that you were plagued with body lice. Now, if you don't shave - people consider you to be dirty. Funny how societal standards can change with a little commercial propaganda.

I'm not saying every woman should grow a monster bush. We groom and maintain the hair on our heads; it only makes sense that we would groom our other bits.

But... Bare? Really?

I mean, sure - it's convenient for certain sexy time activities.

Don't get me wrong, I understand the logistical merits of a manicured lawn. I also understand that some women personally prefer to keep things bare down there. Good for y'all. If it's what you dig, go for it... But how the hell did this become the accepted norm? How in the FUCK did we reach the point at which women are considered UNattractive if they DON'T spend time and money painfully fighting nature?

Should we blame the porn industry? Pedophiles? The folks who make the pube wax?

Fuck them. Fuck the beauty standard.

I call for pubic hair freedom.

Do what you WANT with your nether-regions.

Grow it. Trim it. Dye it. Shape it. Wax it.

WHATEVER.

As long as it is YOUR choice.

Don't let someone else dictate to you what is sexy.

You will never BE sexy until you FEEL sexy, and you can't POSSIBLY feel sexy until you find your own style.

I, for one, will continue to rock the trimmed triangle.

I refuse to apologize for reaching puberty... And you shouldn't have to either.

soft and sweet and shape like a triangle
some girls want no shape and they shave it alli think sad it hurts with the stubblewalk in named look like an eight year old
~Amanda Palmer, "Map of Tasmania"

The end of an era, the death of the coffee raid.

2011-06-13T15:11:00.000-07:00

Yesterday "my" diner, the Perkins on Platte, closed its doors forever.

This seems like a silly thing to mourn... But that restaurant was the setting for many of my happiest Colorado memories.

Through flashmobs referred to as "coffee raids", I met some amazing people who have become my closest friends.

Sandi, Emily, Sheila, Panza, Mondo, Cleo...

I met them all there.

These raids used to take place on a regular basis. Sometimes it was just two or three of us. Sometimes, we took up the entire back room.

These flashmobs inspired the premise for our webcomic project "Coffee Raiders".

(Which, for the record, is scheduled to return from hiatus/maintenance 6/14.)

The group has schism'd multiple times since the glory days of coffee raiding. Between breakups, moves, pregnancies, and personal issues... Many of us have drifted apart.

The last major raid was my birthday, and it was... Uncomfortable.

Perkins' closure certainly served as the final nail in the coffin.

In tribute to the great times we shared, I submit these photos... All taken during raids.

That's not what I want, that's what I wanted.

2011-06-01T13:54:00.000-07:00

Despite the fact that my therapy appointment last week was canceled - and rescheduled to later THIS week, I've been working on a few things from my list on my own.

I'm trying to be more proactively social. Making plans with friends, and keeping them. In the past week, I've gone out to lunch with Stacy, had a bad movie night with Bambi, went to a barbecue with Sandi that turned into a lovely walk and teatime, and even had a civil lunch/movie friend date with Panza.

I'm proud of that, despite the fact that it seemed like a bad idea - because I was able to say "no" when he half-jokingly propositioned me... Which is another thing on the list I've been trying to work on... Saying "no", that is.

On top of that, I'm also on a quest to rediscover joy in things that don't involve other people. So, I've picked back up my guitar. I still suck at it, but I'm making music again. Making music was on the list of "things that make me feel good" that my shrink had me write up. I've taught myself two new songs.

1) Death Cab For Cutie's "I Will Follow You Into The Dark".
I recorded myself playing it. When I record myself, it forces me to be a perfectionist. It makes me try harder. It also helps me feel prouder about the outcome.

2) Amanda Palmer's "In My Mind".
This song is an anthem for me when I'm feeling like a failure... Which is often. I had such great dreams and aspirations about the person I thought I'd be in adulthood, and I constantly feel like I'm letting down my teenage self. The point of the song, really, is that the things we want now don't necessarily have to match up with the things we wanted before.
The lyrics inspire me:

"It's funny how I imagined I could win this winless fight. Or maybe it isn't all that funny that I've been fighting all my life. Or maybe I have to think it's funny if I want to live before I die. Or maybe it's funniest of all to think I'll die before I actually see that I am exactly the person I want to be. Fuck yes, I'm exactly the person that I want to be."

(I haven't recorded it, because I'm having a hard time getting the rhythm down.)

My callouses have returned, and I finally feel like I'm doing something productive.

I'm seriously considering buying a keyboard and teaching myself the piano after my trip home for my sister's wedding. Money is pretty tight until then, because I have to buy a plane ticket and a dress and such.

I want to start doing things that I'm proud of. I have a decent voice. I spend a lot of time holed up in my apartment... why not put that time towards bettering myself? I'm only 25. There are plenty of things left to accomplish, right?

I could be decent yet.

2011-05-23T09:18:00.000-07:00

First off, I promised picture and backstory to my new tattoo...

There's a great line in the Ani DiFranco song "Shroud":

"I realized that a tattoo is no more permanent than I am..."

I'm growing fond of the idea that eternity - and permanence, for that matter - is relative. Therefor, restraining oneself in the interest of avoiding permanent consequences might not always be the wisest course of action.

That being said...

I've also started therapy. If you've been following this little digi-rag as long as I've been posting, you know that this is long overdue.

Suffice it to say that recent revelations have inspired me to work towards getting my mind together.

I like my therapist a lot more than I thought I would. And I get the sneaking suspicion that she respects me a lot more than she thought she would. She figures I've been treating my depression on my own for years - and was surprised to see how well I've managed. Apparently, for someone who hasn't sought help, I sure as hell seem to know what I'm doing.

She says that I'm fascinatingly eloquent, and have a pretty decent handle on my triggers and symptoms.

HOWEVER,

She also says that I've got very low self-esteem (news flash), and that this has probably been preventing me from being able to ever make much more progress than getting my neck above water.

My first assignment was to create a list of 5 goals that I hope to accomplish through our sessions. I struggled with it a bit, but I finally settled on a few that I'm relatively proud of.
I know I normally reserve this shite for the private blog... But fuck it. Hiding in the shadows isn't going to magically resolve my problems. I need to stop pretending everything's okay all the time.

So, here we are. My goals:

Achieve a proportionally healthy sense of self-esteem. Enough with the self-loathing, already. I've repented for my sins, and it's high time to start loving myself.
Learn how to say "no" without feeling guilty. You're not a doormat; you're a Manna.
Stop pushing away the people who love me "for their own good". This self-sabotage nonsense has GOT to stop. Scaring people away isn't going to make their lives any better, it's just going to make the self-loathing worse.
Stop tethering my capacity for happiness to others. This one is probably left over from my days of codependency. I can function really well on my own now - but I have a hard time describing myself as "happy" unless someone else is making me feel that way.
Tame the social anxiety. I'm pretty sure that a great deal of my suicidal tendencies stem from an overwhelming fear of LIVING. I don't think I'll ever be a social butterfly, but at some point I ought to go out into the world and find a little joy.

There it is.

Birthday adventure, priorities, and changes.

2011-05-11T11:58:00.000-07:00

I've been putting off writing the public entry reflecting on Mary's visit, my birthday, and the goings on in my life as of late - of which there have been quite a few.

But I've done enough reflection in the private blog, lately... And the New And Improved Twenty-Five-Year-Old Manna has resolved to only publicly air her dirty laundry in vague/metaphorical 140 character format.

Instead, I will sum up the past two weeks through photograph and summary.

April 30th:

I meet Sandi in Denver, pick up Mary, and the three of us spend a magical night together - bonding over indian food, cheap wine, and naked hot-tubbery.
A Man I fancy composes an impromptu list of reasons he considers me amazing, and I proceed to squee a bit.
(My favorite line: "She refers to her vibrator as though it's someone in her carpool, which just makes me laugh.")

May 1:
Sandi cooks us pancakes and chai.
I turn 25.
A coffee raid is organized with friends and family to meet my Mary.
I spend a great deal of time apologizing to my Mary for the behavior of some folks present.
My stepmother - as a prank - decides to stage grand theft auto, by moving the SUV I had borrowed from the location I had parked it.

May 2:

I take Mary to Manitou, to expose her to the weird.
Manitou's streets are closed due to a water main bursting - and it starts to snow.

May 3:

Windy takes Mary and I sightseeing.
We go up into the mountains, and I learn that drinking alcohol two miles above sea level when you suffer from vertigo isn't a good idea.

After Mary went home I realized that I needed to make a few changes in my life. I'm working on plugging a few emotional drains. This process includes finally sucking it up, and getting my ass to a mental health clinician.

I've already made a few calls, but none of the practitioners I have contacted are accepting new patients. Once I get back to work tomorrow, I'll look up a few more in-network providers. It was a scary first step, but it's time.

Also, I'm currently dealing with a stressful legal situation involving my car accident last January. It sucks, but I'm trying to be optimistic.

Oh yeah! And TODAY, I got a new tattoo!

The symbolism carries a few connotations that could be construed as questionable, but I stand firm in the choice I made.

All of my tattoos make reference to writing that I admire, and this one continues on that same theme.

I'll probably post pictures once I can take the bandage off.

Let the festivities begin!

2011-04-30T07:49:00.001-07:00

I'm taking five days off to celebrate my 25th lap around the sun. Thus far, I've already been offered several amazing gifts for the celebration.

1) My Mary has flown out to Colorado to see me! I will be going to Denver this afternoon to pick her up.

2) Windy has agreed to allow me to borrow a car for the week's festivities so that I can take Mary around to play tourist. (Gurt is on her way out, and I can't afford a replacement just yet.)

3) A dear friend from my past surprised me at work by having an arrangement of a dozen long-stemmed roses delivered to my desk.

The card read "You still smell funny". I swooned.

4) The lovely Sandi has invited Mary and I over to spend a night involving wine, Indian food, and hot tubbing.

5) We will be having a coffee raid tomorrow (My actual birthday) so that Mary can meet my Colorado friends.

I'm quite excited.

I'm quite ready for a little bit of an adventure. It's been a strange few weeks. Panza and I broke things off. He asked me where he stood in relation to my affections, and I didn't have a good answer.
It's for the best, though. He needs room to... grow. I need to not spend my twenties waiting for that to happen.

Hooray for birthdays!

Yes, this is really goodbye this time.

2011-04-25T16:03:00.000-07:00

I don't have the words. Luckily, Ani already wrote them.

She went over to his apartment, clutching her decision.
And he said,
did you come here to tell me goodbye?
So she built this skyscraper of procrastination,
and then she leaned out the 25th floor window of her reply.
She felt like an actress just reading her lines, when she finally said
Yes, this is really goodbye this time.
Far below was the blacktop, and the tiny toy cars.
And it all fell so fast.
And it all fell so far.

And she said
You are a miracle, but that is not all.
You are also a stiff drink, and I am on call.
You are a party, and I am a school night.
And I'm looking for my door key, but you are my porch light.
You'll never know dear just how much I loved you.
You'll probably just think this was my big excuse.
But I stand committed to a love that came before you.
And the fact that I adore you is but one of my truths.

What of the mother whose house is in flames?
And both of her children are in their beds crying.
And she loves them both with the whole of her heart.
But she knows she can only carry one of them at a time.
She's choking on the smoke of unthinkable choices.
She is haunted by the voices of so many desires.
She's bent over from the business of begging forgiveness,
while frantically running around putting out fires.

But then what kind of scale compares the weight of two beauties?
The gravity of duties?
Or the ground speed of joy?
Tell me,
what kind of gauge can quantify elation?
What kind of equation could I possibly employ?
And you'll never know dear just how much I loved you.
You'll probably think this was just my big excuse.
But I stand committed to a love that came before you
and the fact that I adore is but one of my truths.

So I am am going home
to please the one I so love pleasing.
And I
don't expect he'll have much sympathy for my grieving.
But I guess this is the price that we pay
for the privilege of living for even a day in a world
with so many things worth believing in.

What kind of gauge can quantify elation?

2011-04-13T16:10:00.000-07:00

I've hit that third-week-wall in the transition of sleep schedules.

I'm so fucking lethargic; I think I might just dissipate into oblivion. I don't feel alive.

I know it will get better. I know it will soon feel normal, and that the days will be warmer.

Maybe I'm just so far out of it because I started doing days around the same time Panza started working a similar schedule. I get to see him every other day, but only for a half hour to an hour. We have different days off, so we don't have any evenings together. As such, all of our interactions feel rushed. It's like one of us always has half of a leg out the door at any given moment... Like there's no point in getting comfortable.

I love the shift, don't get me wrong. I have a lot of down time, and my stats have skyrocketed from where they were previously. (Last cycle I failed with a 58/100. This cycle I'm holding steady between 88-93/100, which is the top tier for performance.)

My days off, however, lick hairy goat bits.

Tuesday and Wednesday.

Meaning that my free nights are Monday and Tuesday.
There is NOTHING going on Monday or Tuesday nights. Even if there WAS something to do, I don't know many others who have those days off. On those extremely rare nights that I don't want to be alone, I am.

I mean... I function very well alone. Better, even.
...but only when it's by choice.

It's hard to complain, though. It makes sense. I've spent half my damn life trying to get people to leave me alone. Now that I've succeeded, I don't know what the fuck to do with myself.

I'm sure I'll figure it out once I regain my full cognitive capacity.
Once the world stops being up-side-down.
Once I stop feeling tired and disoriented.

In other news, my bestest friend in the whole wide world is coming out to visit me in celebration of my 25th lap around the sun.

Mary is finally coming out to Colorado, to see for herself the life I've made out here. Mary understands me and my motives better than anyone else I've met in my entire life... But she doesn't quite understand why I've fallen in love with this strange place. I finally get the chance to show her.

I'm also taking 4 days off from work for the visit - which is something else to be excited for.

Two and a half weeks.

On Daywalking

2011-03-31T14:26:00.000-07:00

I know I've been seriously slacking on this blogging nonsense. I've actually been itching to write for a while, but I haven't had many waking moments to myself this past week.

I'm officially a daywalker. And not just ANY type of daywalker... I'm more of the "old lady" variety. I go to bed shortly after the sun sets - 9 pm at the latest - and I wake up at 4:30am. I make coffee. I watch the morning weather reports. I leave the house by 5:30am, and come home at 3pm. It's the strangest thing...
Stranger still, is how much I'm enjoying it.

I thought it would be hell. I've been working primarily evening shifts since 2009, and late nights since last summer. Suffice it to say, that I've had an entirely different relationship with 4:30am for quite some time.

Don't get me wrong. It's a mite annoying to have to be in bed so damned early. But I've found that it's worth it.

When I was working nights, we'd be ass-deep in queue with disgruntled people whose relationship with the company I work for was the proverbial straw to their angry, angry camel backs. Everyone was angry, nothing worked properly, and I started dreading going to work every day. (Of course, it doesn't help that the company keeps implementing these ridiculous fiery hoops for us agents to jump through just to keep our fucking jobs...)

This shift is MUCH different. Sure, there are still angry people. Sure, there are still outages. But the pace and tone of the workday is CONSIDERABLY more tolerable.

When I clock in, I usually don't get any calls for the first 10-45 minutes. After that, I can generally count on a 2-10 minute break between calls until I go to lunch. It's easier to turn a caller's mood around, because they haven't had enough time in the day to become complete jaded assholes yet.

Strangely, the shift even seems to pass more swiftly.

On the downside, I don't really know most of the people I work with. It's kind of like being the new kid in school again. At the same time, I'm pretty much okay with that - because I'm not a very social creature.

The best part is, when I get off work - there's so damned much DAY left. I have enough time AND energy to be productive... I've even started doing house chores on my lunchbreak. I've finally broken free from the rut of work/eat/sleep/repeat.

I could get used to this.

Manda

Let's start a new heart, the new charts are in.

2011-03-21T14:05:00.000-07:00

Changes are definitely coming.

This week, up until Wednesday, is my last week on the night shift.

I get off work Thursday morning at 3am. Friday morning I start my new shift at 6am. My new days off will be Tuesday and Wednesday - but I am taking a 3 day weekend next week to help cope with the transition. Also, Sheila is going to be in town for her 21st birthday - which we've been planning since she was 19.

I'm anxious as hell about adjusting my sleep schedule. I've accidentally slipped into a daywalker schedule several times on days off, but it's going to be a whole new game trying to commit to such a drastic shift change.
Currently, I'm asleep (or trying to sleep) during the hours that I will be working, going forward. It's definitely going to be a challenge.

In other news, Panza has taken to calling me his girlfriend again. I promised myself that I would hold off on the relationship titles until he fulfilled at least two out of three conditions...

1) We commit to monogamy.
2) He finds a legit (non-temp) job.
3) He finds a self-sufficient living situation.

We decided on monogamy soon after we started speaking again, considering that we both tend to be a little... Overprotective of one another.

And. Well. Today he started work as an electrician's apprentice.

He's been doing coursework for the past several weeks, and a local contracting company decided to hire him.

It's totally awesome that they did, too. I mean, with the economy as it is - getting into contractor work is challenging even for seasoned veterans of the trade. Some of the folks he did orientation with have been doing electrical work for the better part of a decade.

Even more awesome, is that our schedules are going to be pretty similar. He will get off work about a half hour after I do... So... We're actually going to be able to SEE each other if and when we choose.

Things seem to be turning around again. Funny how that always happens in the Spring. I must be one of those folks who - as Amanda Palmer would say - has problems with Winter and Autumn.

I'm excited for change. I've been in this rut for FAR too long.

Crescent City Tsunami 3/11/11

2011-03-13T14:15:00.000-07:00

Since moving to Colorado, I've had the time to polish my response when people ask me where I'm from.

Not many people have heard of Crescent City, California.

Some make the connection when I tell them that Pelican Bay State Prison was in my back yard.
Others recognize the location when I mention neighboring (now disputed) stoner capital of the U.S. mainland, Humboldt County.

Most people react to this personal favorite description of my hometown:

"Whenever you hear about a small coastal community in Northern California getting destroyed by a tsunami... that was us."

Even if you have been living under a rock for the past week, it would be pretty hard to have missed the fact that Japan recently suffered the worst Earthquake in its extensive recorded history.

The images of devastation, statistics of ever-rising death tolls, and panic surrounding potential impending nuclear disaster will certainly forge their way into our memories and history books.

Of course, the real story here is the strength and courageous efficiency of the Japanese people.

Unfortunately, I've never been to Japan. I don't know anyone in Sendai, and I've never studied their geological history.

I'm here to write about what I know.

In college, I wrote a ten page research paper on Crescent City's unique susceptibility to Tsunamis.
Mind you, I went to college in a collection of trailers parked across the street from the county high school. I'm not an expert by any stretch of the means...
I have, however, spent countless hours compiling information from the United States Geological Survey, West Coast and Alaska Tsunami Warning Center, National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, and the Del Norte County Historical Society's musty archive room.

Even as far back as childhood, I've been fascinated with plate tectonics and volcanology. I'm going to go ahead and blame this on my Mother, who dragged me to numerous lava beds, crater parks, geysers, volcanoes, and earthquake museums during my formative years.

As such, when news of the Japan Earthquake hit my twitterfeed, I knew folks back home could be facing their worst Tsunami since the Good Friday Quake of 1964.

See, Crescent City is no stranger to Tsunamis. Since it was incorporated as a City, my sleepy little poverty-stricken town has had dozens of em.

Positioned along the destruction path of almost every geological hotspot in the "Ring of Fire", with a major subduction zone just off shore - my hometown seems to go under a tsunami watch every couple years or so. As if the town's geographical location weren't damning enough, its coastline has a unique geological shape - which amplifies the size and might of rushing waters by funneling them directly towards the community.

Thanks to Hollywood, most folks carry the misconception that Tsunamis are giant wall-like, curling waves that collapse over major cities.

Really, a tsunami is any series of waves caused by some sort of geologic activity (as opposed to waves caused by the tides). And they aren't curling walls of water, either.
The shape of the wave isn't much different from your boring everyday tide changes. It's just... BIGGER.

My Uncle shot this footage of surging waves at Battery Point during Friday's tsunami. If you didn't know any better, this would literally appear to be another day at the beach.

It doesn't look very vicious... Which is why so many people tend to ignore the evacuation warnings, and head down for a better look. This is also the reason that so many Crescent City residents have died in tsunamis over the course of its history.

Here's another video of the power of those waves in context, at the Crescent City Harbor.
Do yourself a favor, and watch it on mute.

I spent all day Friday live-tweeting updates from family and friends in Crescent City.
See, the major news networks kept mentioning the city's name in concern - but offered few updates as to what was actually going on. The twittersphere expressed a need for information, and I stepped up.

It was insane. On just three hours of sleep, I became a pseudo-journalist.
I collected updates via phone calls, text messages, tweets, emails, multiple cable news networks, and radio.

It was overwhelming, and it was beautiful, and it was exciting, and it was terrifying... I felt as though I had found my calling.

@Replies, Retweets, and @Mentions started POURING in from folks desperate for information that they couldn't get from CNN or Fox News. People were asking questions, and I went looking for answers on their behalf.

I was beaming with sleep-deprivation and pride, as I received heartfelt expressions of gratitude from random strangers for the picture I was painting in real-time.

Tsunami sirens. Helicopters. Receding waters. Damaged docks. Death.

I wasn't even there, but I may as well have been. Shit. Even some Crescent City LOCALS were getting their updates from me.

I've never felt so relevant.

I swear, if I could make a living as a Social Media Journalist - I'd quit my job today.

I'll leave you with some before and after images of the tsunami, taken by my sister.

Receding waters:

Same Frame, during a surge:

Displaced sand, and plants in the harbor's parking lot:

Sinking boats in the harbor:

Destroyed Docks:

Thank you to everyone who contributed images and updates.

The recovery process will be difficult for this already economically depressed region.

I wish my hometown the best of luck.

Little darlin, it's been a long cold lonely winter

2011-03-03T13:34:00.000-08:00

I know I haven't posted in quite some time. It's not so much that I haven't had anything to say. Moreso, I've been extraordinarily busy... Also, I've been in hermit mode for a while.

I found myself falling into a sense of overwhelming helplessness that I'm uncomfortably familiar with - so I decided to withdraw myself from people and situations that were beyond my control.

In recent news:

Coffee Raiders is back up and running... Ish.
Mondo moved to Denver, and Cleo is pregnant - which has made it damned near impossible to stick to a legitimate posting schedule... But the comic IS still in production.

After a rough patch at work, I've found my way back into the swing of things. My personal shit started getting in the way of my ability to perform as a functional adult, and I've thrown myself into trying my damndest to get my shit together. My stats are back up to a level I'm comfortable with, and I'm proud to say that I'm no longer at risk of losing my job.

In a desperate attempt to pull myself out of my rut, I bid on a completely different schedule at work. After two years of working primarily night shifts, starting at the end of this month I will be switching to early mornings. My new schedule will have me working 6am to 3pm, with Tuesdays and Wednesdays off. It's going to be one hell of an adjustment, considering that those are currently my sleeping hours... but I needed a change.
A lot of my stress these past few months stemmed from being pulled in every direction by friends and family who keep normal hours, and didn't quite understand that I need the evenings of my days off to catch up on the shit that cannot be accomplished during the work week. With this new schedule, my afternoons/evenings will be free for social interactions - so that I might still be productive on my weekends.
I'm experiencing a little bit of anxiety about the mood swings that will accompany this drastic change in my sleep cycle. Once I get the hang of it though, I'm certain that this change will be for the best.

Things with Panza remain truly perfect. We're still not officially together - but you'd have a hard time convincing anyone of that fact. As it turns out, now that I've decided to postpone remarrying to my 30's, he's totally comfortable with the idea of a "future" with me.
Things are a little different this go-round.
We're both evolving. I'm more patient. He's more motivated.
I have this bad habit of constructing a future without appreciating the present. It took me a while to realize... But I really only have control over my personal future - and even THAT changes every time the wind blows a new direction.
I may as well enjoy the good bits now. If there's a future to be had (and we both agree that there probably is), if it's going to be anything worth getting excited about - I'd prefer for it to come about organically.

I mean. What the hell IS the Future, if not a post-dated Present?

When they put me in the ground I'll start pounding the lid, saying "I haven't finished yet. I still have a tattoo to get. It says 'I'm living in the moment.'"
~Amanda Palmer

Manda

This is our Penis Contest

2011-02-14T14:19:00.000-08:00

Happy Valentine's day, dear friends!

If you are like most guys I know, you've spent the morning trying to decide whether a grand commercialized romantic gesture towards your beloved would be appreciated - or scoffed at.

If you're un/fortunate enough to date a gal like me, you've probably been told repeatedly that she doesn't believe in the holiday. This explanation may or may not have included some sort of lengthy diatribe involving corporate America and/or religious persecution.

You probably think you're off the hook.

You're not.

Just because we don't like forced consumerism, doesn't mean we don't appreciate grand romantic gestures.
Yes, motherfuckers. We secretly (and sometimes, not-so-secretly) want you to shout your affections for us from the mountain tops.

You know why chicks get all squeal-ey around Valentine's Day? Simple.

THIS IS OUR PENIS CONTEST.

We don't always come outright and say it, but women often participate in constant running battles where we are bound and determined to convince each other that WE have the better man.

See, guys... I don't know if you know this... But you've kinda got a bad reputation.
Whether or not you did anything to deserve our disdain, you've got it.
Sorry.
Blame the Lifetime Movie Network.

Disney wired us to believe that we were to wait around for a man to rescue us.
Lifetime taught us that men are going to statutory-rape our teenage daughters and beat us and stalk us and kick our puppies and cheat on us with our best friends' parents... Or something like that.

We've been receiving mixed messages about men our whole lives.
That's why we give YOU so many mixed messages.

We don't have the liberty of fully compartmentalizing emotion and logic. We experience them both at the same time.

This is why we're crazy bitches.

(Sorry.)

The truth is, chicks like me LOVE romantic gestures. They make us feel special, and give us bragging rights around the watering hole.

HOWEVER

We don't particularly respect men who take their marching orders from Hallmark/Kay/and/or/Ghiradelli.

In short, showering us with red cellophane and waxy chocolates JUST BECAUSE the calendar told you to doesn't exactly constitute romance.

If you love your lady, you've got to show her how you feel on a boring ol' Tuesday.

Cook her dinner after she's had a shitty day. Write her a letter. Give her a shirt you wore while getting sweaty doing woodwork all day. Brag about her to your friends. Dance with her in the aisles of grocery stores. Kiss her in a crowded room. Help her friends move heavy furniture. Surprise her in bed with naked snuggle time.

Trust me. Any combination of these inexpensive gestures has a WAY better chance of getting you laid than a $50 box of chocolates.

Love is something to be celebrated. It's one of the few good highs we've got left in this world that hasn't yet been made illegal.
Drink up while you can.

Love and kisses,
Manda

I'm proud of the fact that I'm worse than I seem.

2011-02-12T13:49:00.000-08:00

I've been a little... sad lately.

Partially because Mondo decided to shelve the webcomic since I moved out & the artist is expecting. I was proud of that project. I have a good handful of carefully crafted scripts sitting in a Google docs file, with no artist to draw/webmaster to post them. I liked having that conversation opener when old friends have asked what I was up to.
"I've been working on a webcomic. Check it out. If you can guess which character is me, you get a gold star and a coupon for one therapy session..."
This was a lot easier to go to than the truth.
"I've been wallowing in self-pity, because everyone around me seems to be turning up pregnant after I've spent years coping with the fact that my body is incapable of doing the ONE thing that I feel I was born to do..."

I feel like such an emo twit. These are the sorts of melodramatic confessions I usually confine to the private blog... But it's really been eating at me. I love my pregnant friends. They're awesome and adorable and hilarious and lucky... But after I spend time with them, I end up slipping into a funk. Hard.

I mean, it's not like I want a baby RIGHT THIS VERY SECOND... I definitely want to accomplish motherhood before I'm 30. But... That's 5 years from now. Five years isn't that long, all things considered. Case in point?
Five years ago Kris was getting out of the Army, and we were moving in together.
Four years ago I was filing for divorce.
Three years ago I moved to Colorado.
Two years ago I met Panza.
One year ago I became roommates with Mondo.

Time is passing. As I get older, every year seems to fly by a little quicker. I'm terrified that one day I'm going to wake up, and find myself a barren old bitter woman with a zillion cats. And I'm really not looking forward to that; I hate the smell of cat piss.

It's not just the comic's demise and the baby fever driving me mad... I also can't handle all the bullshit melodrama going on with all my friends. It's very Days of Our Lives meets Jerry Springer. And I'm NOT okay with that, because I am (always) caught in the middle - and I'm SUPER terrified of confrontation.
I HATE getting involved in conflict, but even when I don't - I somehow end up becoming a casualty anyways.
A dear friend of mine (we lovingly referred to each other as soul twins) recently de-friended and blocked me on the interwebs. I honestly have no fucking idea what the hell I did, but it broke my heart a little. There was no explanation, or announcement. I just looked for her one day, and she was gone. It bums me out, because she lives out of town - so our friendship pretty much EXISTED on the interwebs.
Not anymore, I guess.

Honestly, all things considered - my life is going pretty damned well. My finances are good, I (finally) live alone again - and I'm absolutely head over heels in love with everything about this casual/noncommittal/black cupcakes/monochromatic rainbows/sickeningly adorable/ uber romantic/completely undefined/non-relationship that I find myself in.

It's honest enough to feel real, ridiculous enough to feel perfect, and... WE GET IT. Other people who spend more than a half hour around us together GET IT, too. Explaining our dynamic makes it seem pretty complicated. It's really something you have to see in action to understand.

It fits.

Honestly, things are going pretty damned okay for me right now... So I feel like an absolute crazy person for letting the cat fights/baby boom/webcomic destruction nonsense get to me.

I've tried tuning it out in my waking life, and it seems my dreams have turned against me. It's fucking lame.

Eh. Whatcha gonna do?

I've got a fever.

2011-01-31T15:55:00.000-08:00

It has come to my attention that I am about "that age". You know... The age at which everyone around seems to be turning up pregnant.

Granted, most of the folks I went to school with have already bred. In fact, many of them have kids who recently started school.

Three of my closest friends (geographically and emotionally speaking) are currently with child - all of which are due within a month of one another.

You know how it goes, though.

Always an Auntie; never a Momma.

This year I will be twenty-five.

My biological clock started ticking at an early age. In my youth, I didn't see the appeal... Until I started working at a daycare. Most SANE people think babies are cute until they realize how much they cry/scream/poop/vomit.

For me, I didn't want to be a mother until the first time I experienced projectile diarrhea. I worked as an assistant in a daycare for a year during high school. I was on homeschool at the time, so many friends-of-the-family relied on me for barter-system childcare.

I'm going to be honest with you... Babies love me.

I have had the pleasure of hearing TWO babies speak my name as their first words.
(I know, I know... "Manna" is pretty easy for babies - so it's almost cheating... But still. The bliss contained in those two syllables as pronounced by a youngen? Unbeatable.)

In the fall of 2005, I went off birth control. I wasn't necessarily TRYING to conceive... But the hormones made me crazy, and my (then) boyfriend was still away in the Army.

In the Spring of 2006, I actively began trying to conceive. After a full year of NOTHING, I accepted my fate.

I haven't used birth control since.

In all of my subsequent relationships, few (if any) precautions were taken to prevent pregnancy. Some of my lovers wanted me to conceive.

I've tried positions. Time of day. Time of month. Room temperature. Body temperature. Pillows. Headstands. Teas. Stones. Meditation. Happy thoughts. Rubbing bellies with pregnant ladies...

Nothing.

I now, for the first time in my adult life, have decent full-coverage insurance. I could, conceivably, go down to a doctor and find out what's wrong with my babymaker.

Buuuuuut, I can't justify it.

My current relationship is neither stable, nor committed. Some day it will be, but the man in question has a bit of evolving to do first. I'm a bit of a sucker, but I happen to believe that he may well be worth waiting for.

On a horrendously selfish level, it's a lot to cope with. Out of the (MANY) pregnant ladies I know, most of them find themselves in circumstances that are less than ideal.
However, I tend to surround myself with strong and capable women... So I know they'll manage.

Looking around at my life, I've realized that many of the factors I preset as ideal requisites for personal motherhood have been fulfilled.

I have a decent-paying middle class job, with full medical benefits. I am financially stable, and situationally independent. I'm also turning 25, and I have some pretty decent birthing hips.

I've worked with children of all ages - some of whom were special needs. I've taken early childhood development courses, and take great pride in my ability to communicate effectively with kids when behavioral issues arise.

Soo... Why NOT me, universe? Huh?

I'll get better with coping. I refuse to let my bitter jealousy interfere with the joy of all the women around me.

Honestly, it brings ME great joy to be a part of their pregnancies.
(I got to see a live ultrasound for the first time today. I may or may not have gotten a little teary-eyed.)

But... You know...

I just wish that the universe weren't such a DICK about this.

independence et cetera

2011-01-23T13:10:00.000-08:00

I'm in. The furniture is arranged, the paintings are on the walls, the internet is installed, the space is permeated with the sweet musk of incense...

It is officially mine now. I walk in, and feel at home... Which is nice.

This isn't the first time I've lived alone, but it is the first time that it was by choice.

Last time, I sort of just inherited my little sister's apartment when she decided to go on a vacation and never come back.

I've been digging it. Granted, in all the constant running around of the move - I haven't had much time to fully initialize my hermithood. Since I started moving, I've been lucky to get a few waking hours a day to myself...
Friends and family have been running in and out. Moving furniture. Arranging furniture. Critiquing. Securing. Stocking cupboards. Unpacking.

I appreciate all the help, but I am very much ready to have some quiet hermit time.

A friend of the family donated an old (but in perfect condition) fancy-pants recliner to me. You know. One of those ones that would have cost at LEAST a Grand if purchased new.

Also, I got talked into adding cable in my apartment.

Yes. I have been working for a cable company for the better part of a year, and I am just now subscribing to cable.

I've long stated that TV rots your brain.

I liked to joke with friends that I would never touch the stuff - I was just the pusher.

But in honesty, there are a few TV shows over the past couple years that I have grown to love. (To name a few: The Daily Show, Colbert Report, The West Wing, Big Bang Theory, It's Always Sunny in Philly, Californication, Weeds, Doctor Who...)
Granted, I never really watched them ON TV. I used Internet streaming, Netflix, DVD box sets...

Fuck it. It's not that much more expensive than what I'm paying for internet by itself, and it will also help me out with troubleshooting/product knowledge for work.

If I become a couch potato, feel free to pimp slap me.

I took 4 days off from work, and today I go back. I'm actually quite ready to go back - except for the fact that I accidentally fell into a semi-normal sleep schedule during the course of my move.

I work 6pm to 3am. Meaning, I generally sleep 6-7am through 2-3pm.

(YOU try falling asleep the second you get home from work. It doesn't work that way.)

Since most moving type things need to be done during daylight hours, I started waking up at 11am - and then running around all crazy during the day... Consequently, I started falling asleep between 1am and 2am.

Tonight's shift will be interesting, to say the least. I'm going to need quite a few energy drinks to keep me going.

I'm happy, though. Independence looks good on me.

Confirmed

2011-01-18T00:14:00.000-08:00

It's official. I'm (finally) getting my own apartment. The property managers to the place I applied called me this morning, and I signed the lease paperwork while half-asleep.

I have keys.

Of course, I can't officially move in until my days off - but I got to spend a little quality time in my new digs.

Honestly, it's not so bad - for the ghetto.

The kitchen is bigger than the one in my last apartment.

Nice and cheery.

The living room is pretty small... but I guess it works out, considering that I don't have a lot of furniture.

The bedroom is a pretty decent size, all things considered. I even have a walk-in closet... Not that I need one.

What really impresses me, however, is the bathroom. It's actually larger than the usual piss closets you find in apartments. Hell, it's bigger than the one where I currently live - and this is technically a 5 bedroom house.

I'm taking a three day weekend to execute the move. The moving truck is booked for Wednesday, and the cable guy is coming on Friday.

I'm not looking forward to getting what little furniture I have up 3 flights of stairs, but it will be worth it to have my independence back.

Funny. I used to be terrified of living alone. Now, given the choice, I wouldn't have it any other way.

On the move

2011-01-13T13:38:00.000-08:00

After I broke off my engagement, I knew I wasn't going to be able to move out any time soon. A sane person would have moved out within the month. It's not that I couldn't AFFORD my own place. Quite to the contrary - my own place would in fact be cheaper than what I am paying right now. Alas, my ex-fiance wouldn't have been able to afford this house without my monthly contribution. Given that we're still friends, bailing would have been a dick move.

I told him then that I aspired to be moved out by the start of 2011. He requested that I wait until February - so that he could assess his options after receiving his tax return. I agreed.

It is mid January right now.
(You may have noticed.)

As such, it is time to start thinking about moving.

After rearranging my finances, I realized that this week's paycheck would be the one with the most spare money... So I started apartment hunting.

The hunt itself was... interesting.

My goal was to find an apartment complex within feasible walking distance of work, in case Gurt decides to crap out on me within the next year. Unfortunately, my workplace is kinda in the ghetto. I mean, it isn't the REAL ghetto. It's more like ghetto-lite. As such, most of the complexes in the area are dirt cheap - but plagued by bedbugs and drug deals.

It was my intent to find an apartment $500/month or less... Preferably one with a special which would allow me to move in for less than $500.

Upon talking with some coworkers and friends in the region, I was able to weed out some of the less desirable contenders.

It was my plan today to put in a few calls to various apartment complexes, to gather rate information. For reasons that escape me, I woke up this morning bright eyed and bushy-tailed less than three hours after going to bed. I couldn't fall back asleep, so I decided to get a head start on the apartment search.

I called one of the complexes and set a showing appointment.

It wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be.

I mean, yeah. It was a little ghetto. But for the neighborhood, it was actually pretty decent.

It's a third floor apartment, and it overlooks Cheyenne Mountain. There's a lot of light in the apartment. The floors in the kitchen and bathroom are fake hardwood, which is nice. The living room is pretty small, but the bathroom is larger than any I've had in my adult life - and there's a walk-in closet in the bedroom.

All in all, it was pretty darned okay.

The move in special was within my budget, too. $285 covered my deposit/application fee/utility hookup... And they were willing to throw the rest of January in for free.

So, I put down a deposit.

Right now I am waiting on my background check. Given that they have two states to check, it could take a while. Del Norte County isn't particularly swift with these things. I should get a call back today or tomorrow - and then they will give me the keys.

Sooo... It would appear as though I will be moving within the next couple weeks.

Money is going to be tight for a bit, because I promised Mondo I'd pay February's rent to him... Even though I'm not going to be here.

Yeah, I'm a sucker. But I might be able to persuade him to help me move my furniture in exchange.

I'll keep y'all posted.

Manda

Epic Double Breakup Thursday

2011-01-04T02:38:00.000-08:00

Most well-adjusted people wouldn't intentionally choose to relive their most devastating personal moments. Then again, I've never really considered myself to be well-adjusted.

This week, the Coffee Raiders webcomic took on the true story of my breakup with Panza.

It has been a full year since the actual epic double breakup.
(Mondo and Stacy also split up that day.)

It is strange to see a cartoon caricature of yourself getting her heart broken.

"Surreal" doesn't even begin to cover it.

The events that take place in this story arc shaped the past year of my existence. Hell, it wouldn't be too far-fetched to estimate that these events may well have changed the course of my life in its entirety.

Once upon a time I was a girl in love with a boy who loved me back.

But it wasn't enough.

That boy is back in my life now.
Between you, me, and the moon - I'm not one hundred percent certain that these old truths have changed as much as we'd like to pretend.

Many things are different now than they were when the events depicted by these strips came to pass.

I have evolved. I AM evolving.

As many changes as this year held, in many ways I truly feel as though I have come full circle.

It still hurts sometimes.
Every once in a while I feel twinges of pain, when I remember that I wasn't good enough.

And yeah, it pisses me off that he told people he dumped me because I was "pushy".
Especially considering that he actually asked me to help keep him motivated...
Especially considering that he was the one who initially pitched the idea of cohabitation...

It's safe to say that there is still a little bit of residual bitterness in our dynamic.

But a year later, it has become easier to make jokes about the damned Nerf guns.
Hell, I can even co-author a comic strip about 'em.

You know how it goes. Art imitating life, and such.

Let's toast to the lists that we hold in our fists of the things that we promise to do differently next time.

2011-01-01T14:54:00.000-08:00

It is New Year's Day.

(You may have noticed.)

I've never been a fan of "resolutions". This disdain generally stems from my first job as a health club janitor... The locker rooms became a disaster area in January from the hurricane of New Year's Resolutionists.

Fuckers.

Every January they would trash the place... but they usually stopped coming by March.

To me, resolutions are pledges to failure.

Whatever happened to good old-fashioned GOALS?

Goals are much more flexible than resolutions.

So. Here we go...

My goals for 2011:

Incorporate Maximum Ridiculosity Into Everything I Do. I will spread the silliness, and do my best to keep people laughing. After all, if we can't embrace absurdity... What's the fucking point?
Write More. I don't care if I'm just writing webcomic strips that never make it into the story arc, or private blog posts that only two people will read... No more of this "Sorry I haven't blogged in a while... I didn't really have anything to write about" nonsense. I always have something to say; I'm just afraid that noone wants to read it.
Get My Own Place. I will take advantage of EVERY aspect of living alone. I will masturbate in the living room. I will dance around all crazy-like while doing the dishes. I will pick back up on my old morning stretching routine - because noone is around to interrupt or irritate me.
Be Happy, Dammit. I will find joy in the way things actually are, and not spend too much time freaking out about how I wish they were. I will allow myself to fall in love, but stop attaching expectations to anything beyond momentary emotional contentment.

I think I can handle these things.

May 2011 suck less.

Love and Kisses,
Manda

This weather turns my tricks to rust.

2010-12-31T11:13:00.000-08:00

It's New Year's Eve, and I woke before noon

We got sucker-punched with a snowstorm yesterday. The weather reports mentioned that it was coming, but they didn't know how bad it was going to be.

The snowfall itself wasn't so bad - just between 3-7 inches - depending on what part of town you were in.

The winds, however, were atrocious. The roads repaved themselves with thick ice, and deep snowdrifts. Of course, I didn't realize HOW bad it was until I tried to leave the house.

I was headed to the grocery store, but I didn't make it two blocks before I realized that I was in for an adventure.

The grocery store itself was probably 3 miles away. Traffic was bumper-to-bumper, at a slow crawl, for two straight miles. The trick is to never stop. If you stop - you'll either slide backwards, or spin out from trying to accelerate when it's time to GO again. I made it out of the heavy traffic after about 30 minutes, and thought I'd take a shortcut through suburbia - because it was less hilly.

Of course, suburban neighborhoods are ALSO never plowed.

I passed three cars that had spun out of control. It ended up being safer to drive on the wrong side of the road.

At that point, I said "fuck it" to the grocery store, and re-routed to Windy's - which happened to be nearby.

I stayed at her house for a good seven to eight hours, waiting for the winds to die down.

It's a good thing I did. The roads got pretty bad. There was a 20 car pileup down south - and some of the roads shut down...

I'm pretty lucky to have made it home alive.

On Superhero Capes, Neil Gaiman, Christmas Miracles, and Twitter

2010-12-25T14:07:00.000-08:00

My Christmas weekend was astoundingly shitty.
It started out on Wednesday, when I broke my cell phone. I felt awful, because I ALREADY didn't have enough money to go Christmas shopping for people who insisted on buying me crap... The insurance deductible set me back $130. This, of course, was absurd - given that I could purchase a brand new one for three times that amount.

Work was awful. Every caller was a classification of crazy that could only be measured in animal excrement. One caller committed domestic abuse while on the phone with a coworker. Another caller claimed to have stabbed himself because we couldn't fix his cable over the phone.

(I have to keep reminding myself: The world is full of happy well adjusted people with perfectly functional cable service.)

Thursday I went over to my Stepmother's for dinner... Which promptly turned into a melodramatic fight about why I wasn't coming over for Christmas.

I asserted that it was because she never INVITED me, which resulted in me making other plans.
She felt strongly that she shouldn't be required to extend an invitation because she is Family and it is Christmas.

In any case, I was already in a miserable mood from these affairs - when I heard some bad news from/about a friend from my past. Suffice it to say, my guard was down - and my empathetic tendencies kicked into overdrive.

I was horrible company for my regular Friday night dinner with Cleo and Jason. I moped a lot. They assured me that my Mopeyness to Awesomeness ratio is still working in my favor.

They also gave me presents - on account of the fact that it was Christmas Eve.

One of those presents was a collection of Neil Gaiman Short Stories called Smoke and Mirrors.

Whenever people gift me books, I get simultaneously excited - and disappointed. Ever since I was a child, I was fascinated by books. I was the kid who hid under the blanket with a flashlight staying up WAY PAST bedtime to finish whichever book I was working on that day.

One unfortunate circumstance of my current living situation (aside from the fact that I live in my ex fiance's basement) is that there is very seldom opportunity for me to read.
I am at or commuting to work for damned near 10 hours of my day. When I finally come home, the television is usually on upstairs.
The obvious solution is to read in my room downstairs. However, there are many reasons why this is often easier said than done - many of which involve mice, temperature, and/or burnt-out-lightbulbs.

I'm not granted a lot of quiet Hermit Time by this arrangement.

Last night, when everyone else had finally gone to bed, I cracked open Smoke and Mirrors. Reading the book's 34 page introduction, I caught myself legitimately smirking from time to time.
It was then that I realized that I hadn't smirked as a result of actual witticism-induced amusement in quite some time.

It was somewhere between 2:30 and 3:30 am in my time zone, when I realized that I was in neither psychological nor psychic pain for the first time in over two days.

Funny how good writing can do that for us.

Naturally, I decided to Tweet about it.

Dear @neilhimself, Thank you for writing "Smoke and Mirrors". It has become the high point of my otherwise shitty christmas.

It is Proper Twitter Etiquette to tag someone in your message if you mention them... Even if they are a best-selling author with 1.5 million twitter followers, who happens to be engaged to one of your favorite female musical artists of all time.

I imagine the man receives quite a few mentions/@replies. I mean... He's a geek icon, and he tweets an average of 24 times a day.

Which is why I was positively shocked when my phone went off at 9am - indicating that someone had mentioned me on twitter.

Neil Gaiman was kind enough to write me back.

@avandamanders you are welcome.

So, that was pretty awesome.

A few of my great Twitter/Real Life friends called it a Christmas Miracle.

I'm not sure what it says about me and my validation-hungry nature, that a quick blurb from an Author I greatly admire can turn around my shitty week...

But it did.

It's off to work for me today. Yes, the call center is open Christmas Day. The "fine" people of Los Angeles won't stop throwing temper tantrums just because it's Christmas.

With any luck it will be slow. I fully intend to finish Mr. Gaiman's book.

Christmas hasn't been the same since dad put in the central heating

2010-12-23T19:39:00.001-08:00

Life has been quite busy, lately. I'm feeling massively overhwhelmed all the time... Even my days off aren't really "days off". I knew that the holiday season was coming... But then suddenly it was here.

I'm not really a fan of compulsory consumerism.

Jesus had some groovy ideas, but I can't bring myself to believe that he's the son of some omnipotent bearded dude sitting on a cloud.

I was raised in both Judaism and Protestant Christianity.

My ties to both ideologies are thin - and based more in cultural traditions than in faith.

I think it's fun to decorate trees, hang lights, and sing... But it pisses me off to be guilted into spending money on people.

Every year I say that I'm not going to buy presents for people, and every year I break down at the last minute.

I honestly wish people would just buy THEMSELVES shit for the holidays. Gifts aren't really worth a damn to me if no thought was put into them.

"Oh... A bath set gift basket... Thaaaaaanks uncle bob..."

Nothing says "I know nothing about you, but feel obligated to spend money on you," like a loofah.

I have christmas eve off, but I don't have any holiday-ey type plans.

I will be working Christmas day. It will likely be quite slow at work. I plan to bring a book.

Since this post seems to be holiday related, I will share a picture from my work's holiday party...

From The Windows of My Soul

(Yes, that would be Panza. It's a long story... One that's not quite over yet, as it would appear...)

The One I Wrote

2010-12-15T15:38:00.000-08:00

I just thought I'd let you kids know that the first strip that I personally wrote for Coffee Raiders will make its debut tonight at midnight, Mountain Time.

It's a light-hearted jab at this feller named Panza, whom you may remember from my past...

Actually... I guess "past" isn't accurate, anymore - considering that we are now back on very friendly terms.

The premise for this strip had been tossed around between us co-conspirators for quite some time. About a month ago, they asked me to pen it - since I knew him the best out of anyone else in the group.

Through the intervention of fate (and the maniacal plotting of a coworker) the gentleman who is the subject of this particular strip manifested himself back into my world.

Being a good sport, he agreed to contribute his character's dialogue.

The beautiful and talented Cleo cleaned up my rough edges, and illustrated it with the brilliantly zany/melodramatic style we've all grown to love.

In any case... I just thought I'd give you guys a little backstory, since this is the first of "my" scripts to get illustrated and posted.

Never fear; it won't be the last.

Manda

Corporate Conundrums

2010-12-08T03:15:00.000-08:00

I like my job, most days. I get to talk to all sorts of interesting people, I make enough money to get by semi-comfortably, and I have a decent health insurance plan. I get lots of cool free crap, monthly bonuses, and the opportunity to dine/dance/drink on the company's dime.

I work for one of the nation's largest cable companies, for one of the nation's largest cities.

Of course, I'm not naming names in the public arena - but suffice it to say that it's a big 'un.

The job itself is stressful and challenging, but it's definitely not the worst work that I have done. What really sucks, is the cold brutality of corporate business methods.

They want us to upsell to all callers, which I understand. You can't even go to the movies anymore without someone trying you to get to spend that extra 25 cents on the gargantuan popcorn. The fact of the matter is, if you choose to live on the grid - and give your money to corporations... They are ALWAYS going to ask you to buy something else.

I'll admit it... I'm kind of shy. I am a mite hesitant to put myself out there for rejection, but I understand why it is necessary. At the end of the day, it pays my rent.

What I DON'T understand, is the corporate logic behind these operations.

The company I work for has been experiencing some MAJOR outages over the course of the past month.
I understand that I speak to a small fraction of our customer base, and that they represent an even smaller fraction of the market as a whole. I constantly have to remind myself that there is a whole world out there, full of well-adjusted human beings with perfectly functional cable and internet service.
I also understand that shit breaks. Technology is imperfect. It's not magic; it's cable.

It gets frustrating, though. Particularly when you speak to the same person multiple times. Particularly when you have apologized to them PROFUSELY in the past, and gave your word that you would do everything in your power to make sure ____ never happens again... Only to hear from them again the next week, because the issue was never resolved.

You feel like a liar. You feel like a piece of shit. You start to understand why so many call center agents become robots reading from scripts.

Today, one of the managers called a meeting to go over the new scorecard incentive system. He preached the merits of upselling.

"We've got a good product," he said.

A few of us chuckled at this. We've been in queue, back-to-back with major outages for the past week solid.

I tried to explain to him that some of our customers are weary to add services, because the ones they already have are unreliable. I tried to tell him that if we fixed the infrastructure, it would be easier to increase revenue.

I mean, if a caller has to wait on hold for an hour or more to reach an agent for a simple billing question during a major HSO outage - they aren't exactly encouraged to add internet to their package.

He cut me off.

He told me to get off my "high horse", and to be HAPPY that we had so many outages - because it meant I had a job.

Maybe I'm just wired the wrong way, but that seems like an AWFUL business strategy. Call me crazy, but I think that making sure your service WORKS is more important than trying to push it off on more and more people. We wouldn't have to strong-arm customers into sales if our product lived up to expectations.

I really like not being dirt broke within one hour of receiving my paycheck, and I really like having vacation time and health insurance...

But it starts to grate at your soul.

At what point will I lose my ability to empathize organically?
At what point is it worth it to be insulted by management in front of your peers?

I'm not quitting. There's no way I'll be able to find another job that pays as well. I've been making good progress with my debt, and I have become quite accustomed to being able to pay for my own meals when out with friends.

It's just... You know.

Today sucked.

The big bang is only just beginning

2010-12-01T02:29:00.000-08:00

When I was a kid, the span of a year felt like a lifetime. Now, I blink, and it would appear as though the earth has made another trip around the sun.

One year ago...
I met Sandi.
Cleo wrote the first script for what would later become the Coffee Raiders Webcomic.
I was packing up to move out from my apartment, and IN with my stepmother.
Panza and I were stumbling around awkwardly in our failing relationship, as neither of us were willing to admit that it wasn't going to work.

One year ago was the beginning of the end of the glory days of the (real) coffee raiders. Pre-Epic-Double-Breakup-Thursday Schism.

A lot has changed in the past year. I moved. I totaled my car. I had a melodramatic breakup. I moved again. I started a better job. I became part of a family. I started planning a wedding. I had ANOTHER melodramatic breakup. I drifted through self-loathing for a while. I became the cattle prod and secondary writer to a webcomic. I went back home and reunited with a few folks I didn't think I would ever see again. I caught up with the ocean.

It was a pretty shitty year, all things considered... But I think that this year was integral to my evolution as a human. I learned a lot of brutally necessary life lessons this year. So... It was worth it.

Pike's birthday party just happened again. It was just as epic as last year... Except for different reasons.

In related news:

Panza and I are speaking again.

Yeah, I know. Neither of us are looking for a relationship... I've always hated that term. Relationships are interpersonal dynamics. If you work with someone, sleep with someone, talk to someone on the bus - YOU HAVE A RELATIONSHIP.
How about this: neither of us are looking for a romantic commitment.

Slopes are slippery and willpower has never been my strong suit... But I'm hoping that the lessons I've learned in the past year will help me approach this revived friendship with a little bit more of a realistic mindset.

In February, I get to move out. I'm BEYOND excited for this. I really miss living alone. Plus, this time, I won't be so poor that I can't ENJOY it. I'm planning on moving closer to work, so I can walk to work when the roads ice over. I'm pretty much miserable in this living arrangement. I mean... I love the kids, and Mondo and I are still friends... But I'm not happy. I like being responsible for my own messes. I like NOT having mice crawl around my room while I sleep. Not to mention, a one bedroom apartment TO MYSELF would actually be cheaper than what I am paying in rent right now.

Oy, ran out of time. Most go to work. AWAY!

50 Things I Wish Men Knew About Me (NSFW)

2010-11-20T14:32:00.001-08:00

I stole this little meme off of my friend Diasia. It's DEFINITELY NSFW.
(So, if you're one of my coworkers or family members reading off of my facebook import feed... Proceed at your own risk.)

Just because I am "one of the guys" doesn't mean you shouldn't treat me like a girl every once in a while. I like feeling feminine. Trust me. YOU'LL like it when I'm feeling feminine, too.
If you "get" my Eddie Izzard references, I might fall in lust with you a little.
I fall in love too easily.
I fall OUT of love even easier.
I'm aware of my personality flaws. Pointing them out to me isn't going to give me any sort of epiphany. If anything, it's going to push me even deeper into depression.
I can debate both sides of every argument. I will tell you when I know I am being irrational - but that doesn't mean you don't have to listen to what I say.
I'm more insecure about the look/feel/taste of my nether-regions than I am about being overweight. Don't take it personally if I refuse to let you go down there. It takes at least a month of me being with a lover to feel comfortable enough to let them go down on me.
IF I let you go down on me before that one-month mark, DO NOT make any comment about taste, smell, or razor rash. If you do, I can guarantee you, it will never happen again.
(This one I lifted from my good friend, Joan...) If I wake you up with morning head, take it - or never expect it again. I don't take rejection well.
The second you beg me never to leave you, I start plotting my escape.
I have been legitimately proposed to by 4 men, most of which had previously claimed that they didn't believe in marriage. Don't let my looks fool you. I'm a keeper.
I have commitment issues, but I sincerely believe it is because I haven't met someone man enough for me.
I like my men to be MEN. I CAN take care of myself, but I don't like having to wear my big girl pants all the time.
Being homophobic, self-righteous, illiterate, or poorly dressed does NOT make you masculine in my eyes.
Good spelling and proper punctuation is sexy.
When you are going down on me, I need penetration to accompany clitoral stimulation - but I'm too shy to actually ask.
I'm a squirter. Yes, it comes from the urethral area. No, it's not pee. If you can't handle that idea, steer clear.
You don't get to be more emo than I am. One of us has to be level-headed, and I HATE it when that responsibility always falls on me.
Nothing sends me into psycho-bitch mode faster than you shutting down. I won't waste my time with someone who refuses to communicate with me.
If I look good, TELL ME. I've got a horrible self-image, and I don't get hit on as often as pretty girls. I could use all the (SINCERE) compliments I can get.
If I look a mess, keep your fucking mouth shut.
I am bisexual, and I will go babe-watching with you.
Just because I think she's hot, doesn't mean I wont be insecure if you start drooling like a caveman over her.
If you call me easy, pathetic, or desperate - don't be surprised if I turn down your booty call.
(Stolen from Diasia...) My nipples belong on my body, they are NOT meant to be torn from me and thrown beneath my curio cabinet.
I love it when I catch you staring down my shirt.
Yes, I have lovely breasts. You're not the first person to fixate on that part of my anatomy. I enjoy the attention, but if you want to set yourself apart - you ought to pay a little attention to some of my other features. Like, I don't know... my brain?
I have skeletons in my closet, and I struggle with my personal demons every day. I'm really good at feigning normalcy, but sometimes I slip into my pit of despair. When this happens, the best thing you can do is stay out of my way - but you BETTER damn well check up on me from time to time.
Text-Speak (LOL, U, R, 4, BRB) is a MAJOR turnoff.
Don't make fun of the musicians and authors that I idolize. If I want you to listen to a song, or read a book - it's because it means a lot to me, and I want you to understand that element of my persona. You don't have to like it the way I do, but you don't have to be a dick.
If I call myself fat, DON'T YOU DARE argue with me. I know what I am. "Fat" isn't the same thing as "unattractive" - and the fact that you link those two ideas together makes me even more insecure.
If I say "I love you" during sex, or within 15 minutes of orgasm - don't freak out. It doesn't count. What I meant to say was: "I love THIS. Thank you."
I assume the same is true in reverse.
If I say "I love you" (for reals) first, please know that I didn't say it to hear something in return. I just wanted you to know. If you say it back, and aren't 110% sure that you mean it - I will grow to resent you for it.
I don't know anything about sports, and I'm pretty much fine with that.
I'm a total slob - but I can't handle sticky, smelly, or moldy.
Don't freak out when I get baby fever. You don't have anything to worry about, because it would appear as though I'm infertile... But don't be a dick about it. It's a sensitive subject, and you would be LUCKY to have me as the mother of your child. I'm pretty much amazing with kids.
I expect you to act your age at the ABSOLUTE MINIMUM. I've already wasted enough time playing "mommy" to immature men with Peter Pan Complexes.
If you can make me laugh, you're pretty much in.
I probably masturbate more than you do.
Most of my friends are guys. Yes, it is very possible that I had a fleeting crush on them a zillion years ago. It's ancient history. They're like my brothers now, so bringing it up is just going to weird me out.
Bathing/Grooming together is, in my eyes, the most intimate act we could undertake.
Sharing porn is a close second.
Despite all of my feminist ideals, and strong sense of independence - I would love to be a housewife... And not the lazy soap-opera watching, WoW playing, child neglecting kind. I mean, the kind who vacuums in heels and pearls - and has dinner on the table when you get home from work.
I am a hermit, but mostly because I hate driving. If you offer to pick me up, I will be exponentially more likely to accept your invitation.
Thunder storms make me horny.
I am into D/s play, but I have to trust you very much in order to submit to you. If I'm not feeling it, the game is off.
Poor dental hygiene is a major turnoff. It's one thing to have slightly yellow teeth... But don't you DARE try kissing me if your teeth are rotting out of your skull. I might vomit on you.
Yes, you are sexy when you sweat - but perspiration gets funky FAST. Don't let it ferment. Get your ass in the SHOWER.
At my best, I can be incredible.

"I'm selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best." ~Marilyn Monroe

Escape From Crescent City

2010-11-12T10:06:00.000-08:00

As I type this, I am officially HOME from my week-long sojourn to California/Oregon.

I'm pretty sure that I need to go home at least once a year, to remind myself why I left.
Don't get me wrong, there were some really awesome bits...

I got to spend a LOT of time with my Mary

One thing I love about our friendship, is that we can pick up RIGHT where we left off, no matter how long it's been. There's no awkward small talk, or "catching up" to do. It's as though I never left her side.

I spent the weekend in Eugene with my Mom and the twins. It was amazing to see Autumn and Jakob again. They're so damned tall...

It kills me to be so far away from them.
At least they remember me. That's got to be good for SOMETHING.

I had a few brief encounters with some people from my past. I had lunch with a friend from drama class in high school. I caught up with one of my old roommates, Ryan (from the Jaccard house). I had dinner and drinks with my good Twitter-buddy, former stage-husband, and famed DJ of "The Batcave" - Nate.

I was pretty excited to get the chance to frolic in the redwoods.

I found peace once more at the ocean's shore...

Coming back to Crescent City was an overwhelmingly nostalgic experience.

It terrified the shit out of me.

As beautiful as it is - it is a destructive black hole.

Words fail to express how lucky I feel that I escaped.

As a small, isolated town - most people in my generation feel trapped there. A few lucky ones escaped. Los Angeles, Medford, Grants Pass, Arcata... Most of the friends I met up with IN Crescent City shared with me their plans for escape.

But many are trapped there indefinitely.

There isn't much to do in that county. Sure, there's an ocean - and Redwood forests... But growing up in their midst, you tend to lose appreciation for natural beauty - and start searching for alternative entertainment.

Some of the kids I went to school with dropped out and started having babies. Many of them got sucked into the drug culture.

It IS Northern California, so Marijuana use is a given... But these kids started turning to Meth, heavy hallucinogens and steroids.

Upon my return, I was horrified to learn that some of these kids grew tired of teen pregnancy and meth - and started killing one another for no apparent reason. Sometimes, in terrifyingly gruesome ways. I didn't know these folks personally, but I knew of them. It was a small town. We went to school, and church together.

These weren't random sociopaths just passing through... These were friends of friends...
And they are SLAUGHTERING each other. Out of BOREDOM.

Colorado is home, now. When I got off the plane, I felt RELIEVED.

Driving through Crescent City felt like I was traveling through a hazy recollection of a half-remembered dream.

I can't believe that I made it out of there alive.

One thing is for certain... As much as I miss the people I left behind, I'm never moving back.

More pictures... Epic Post to come later.

2010-11-09T14:27:00.000-08:00

The adventure thus far

2010-11-06T11:43:00.000-07:00

Not much time to blog, just a quick update.

The first leg of the adventure was... Crap. I got stuck in San Francisco for 5 hours. Normally, that would be a good thing - as I am totally in love with the City. Unfortunately, because I was trapped at SFO - It wasn't very exciting.

So much stuff went wrong... Suffice it to say, I'm never flying United again (by choice).

They ended up canceling my flight. The best they could offer as a condolence was a standby seat on a flight 3 hours later. It might not have existed, though. (The seat OR the flight.)

After being awake for 26 hours, I burst into tears of exhaustion. The poor customer service agent had pity on me, and put me on a plane to Medford that was boarding.

Of course, my sister had to work. So did Mary. The soonest either of them could come get me from Medford was about 2 hours after touchdown.

A white knight (who shall remain nameless) came to my rescue.

I ended up spending the night at Mary's sublet condo. We had Circle J. We had wine. We had martinis. We had beer. We wandered the streets of Grants Pass for a bit, and I arrived in Crescent City at about 3pm yesterday.

Here are some pictures from the adventure thus far.

This afternoon we're taking off to Eugene for the weekend.

Put on your shoes, girl - I'm going to the coast.

2010-10-31T02:45:00.000-07:00

The Webcomic has done pretty well in it's first week. It hasn't exactly gone viral, but we've been getting a lot of feedback. The other night Cleo and I stayed at Perkins til 3am hammering out a solid schedule for the release of all the strips we have thus far. For the record - aside from some editing and artwork... We're set through March 15th.

I start my vacation the 4th. It's the 31st. I think it's time to get excited.

Only 4 more days.

It's been WAY too long. A year and a half since I've been home. Two and a half years since I've seen many of my good friends. Three and a half years since I've had more than 4 consecutive days off of work.

I'm taking 9 days off all told.

At 3am on November 4th, I get off work. At 6am, my flight departs. I arrive in Crescent City at about 2pm by way of San Francisco.
November 11th I fly back. November 13th I clock back in.

I'm so damned excited.

I don't know how much internet time I will allow myself while out there, so the blogposts may be infrequent. I'll definitely be tweeting and facebooking along the way, though... Depending on how the data coverage turns out to be. When I left, T-Mobile didn't even have coverage there. Now, according to their website, they have roam support - but I don't know if it's any good.

It's definitely going to be an adventure. I don't even feel like the same person I was when I left California. So much has changed...

Colorado is home now. There's no doubt about that. I think I need a trip to Crescent City every year or so, though. If anything, to at least remind myself why I left.

That, and... Well... The ocean and I have some catching up to do.

We Have Liftoff!

2010-10-26T02:26:00.000-07:00

Today, the webcomic project I've been working on with Cleo & Mondo OFFICIALLY launched. In the first 3 hours, we had 91 unique visitors. That's pretty awesome, considering how small an operation we are.

The premiere strip didn't actually contain a story. Really, the first comic is just an introduction to the concept of a "Coffee Raid", as well as the Raiders themselves.

If you haven't checked it out yet, you can do so at www.coffeeraiders.com
For updates and special fan sneak peeks, follow @CoffeeRaiders on Twitter, and "Like" Coffee Raiders Webcomic on Facebook.
Also, the characters themselves each have their own twitter accounts. If you're nerdy enough, you can find and follow them HERE.

I also had the honor of writing the comic's first blogpost, which you can read HERE.

Thank you to everyone who logged on for the launch. Seriously, you rock ultra-hard. Keep pimping us out to your friends, and remember to check back every Tuesday and Thursday for new installments.

Love and Kisses,
Manna
AKA: Molly Towers

It Gets Better

2010-10-20T15:16:00.000-07:00

So... Once upon a time I was a 14 year old girl with a buzzcut and a heart full of hopes and dreams. Junior High and High School were scary. Some of my friends accepted my bisexuality, and some stopped speaking to me entirely. I attempted suicide 3 times during my adolescence. I went through wildly dramatic personality changes, with a desperation to fit in.

The paradigm has shifted dramatically in the past 50 years alone; the times are changing.

Don't get me wrong, there will always be assholes in the world. But the world is SO MUCH BIGGER than it seems in high school. As a teen, your sexuality becomes your identifier. Every day feels like a melodramatic fight against "the man". When I moved away from my home-town, I found the freedom to take responsibility for my own identity. My sexuality stopped being my defining characteristic many years back now.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not ashamed of who I am. Once you get older, coming out becomes a little less like a train-tracks melodrama scene. When I was a teenager, I never thought that I would live to see a world where I would be able to state my sexual preference as casually as the way I take my coffee.

Trust me.

Life is not what it looks like right now. In a few years, you will taste a freedom and independence unlike anything you've ever dreamed of. It's worth the wait.

IT GETS BETTER.

21 Hours of Awesomeness

2010-10-15T23:54:00.000-07:00

I am tired as hell, but I just had the most tremendously awesome full day. My longtime blog buddy, Mister Michael Brown, paid me a visit.

It had always been a mutual plan to meet with Mr. Brown and t he lovely Ms. Hep , two of my readers who had turned into great friends. Unfortunately, Ms. Hep passed away from Cancer earlier this year. Both Mike and I interpreted this as a reminder that the clock was ticking.

Of course, the idea was a little weird. There's this guy, FROM THE INTERNET, who I've chatted with for six years. This is someone who has read the events of my life, as though I were a character in a novel... And vice versa!

It turned out to not be quite so weird after all. In fact, it was very relaxed and groovy. It felt as though this was the hundredth time we had been in one another's physical company. Like old friends... Which is quite accurate, really.

We took him on a nickel tour. Sheila played driver and tour-guide, which was a pretty terrifying - in a hilarious sort of way.

First off, we went to Montague's Tea House on the West side for a little lunch.

It was delightful, as per always. I really adore the tea house. Just $3 for a full pot of great tea in an awesome environment.

The tour continued with a little game we like to call "count the medical marijuana dispensaries on Colorado Boulevard".

(This week's total: 11)

We drove him through old Colorado City into Manitou, where we perused the streets... Like you do.

Of course, we also made him drink from the springs - because it's a bit of a rite of passage around here.

After all of that nonsense, we took him to Garden of the Gods - which he soon thereafter renamed "The God Garden".

Oh yes. It was awesome.

After all the near-death experiences & backseat driving showtunes from Mr. Brown...

We met up with Pike, Cleo, Jason & Jaeson for an epic 7 hour long marathon Coffee Raid. Oh yes. We were in Perkins for 7 fucking hours.

The group instantly accepted Mike as one of their own. Epic hilarity ensued the entire evening.

It was probably one of the best coffee raids we've had in a while.

I recorded this video of Mike doing one of his Orson Welles impressions, while saying ridiculous shit. It's sideways, on account of the fact that I fail at life. Please forgive me.

I had a massively shitty week at work. I was sick; callers were assholes... This mini-adventure was EXACTLY what I needed.

I have officially met three of my blog buddies in the real world, now. Each time, it's been magically groovy. I can meet these "strangers" in real life, and end up holding awesome conversations for hours.

I'm pretty bad at conversing, to be honest. So, it's just amazing that these folks GET ME like that.

My readers are the best.

Thanks for coming to Colorado, Mr. Brown.

Come back soon.

ButterBeer Adventure.

2010-10-08T17:43:00.000-07:00

By now, it should be quite obvious that I am a bit of a geek. About 5 years ago, I was adamantly opposed to the entire Harry Potter franchise - on account of the fact that it was an inescapable facet of pop culture.

One winter break during college, I found myself with a surplus of free time... So I picked up the books.

I fell in love.

I have a lot of friends who are vehemently annoyed by the books and films. Some of them have read the books, and can provide legitimate reasons. Some of them have not.

Due to a strange and rather unprecedented gesture of kindess from my ex Frank, I found myself in possession of the first 5 dvds, and all of the books. Of course, the books are better... But I'm not gonna lie. Alan Rickman as Professor Snape has a funny effect on my panties.

Of course, when my darling friend Sheila shared this recipe for Butterbeer with me - we both agreed IMMEDIATELY that we should make it together.

The results were delightful - in a nauseating sort of way. In my old age, the mixture is a little too rich and sweet to drink in large doses... Kids would love it though!

Every Day Is Exactly The Same

2010-10-02T15:56:00.001-07:00

I haven't blogged in an entire week.

Time is moving swiftly - which is good. I have a lot of things to look forward to.

The days are a blur. Time keeps moving, and it's hard to keep up with all the changes that are going on around me.

Work. Sleep. Repeat.

I've been suffering from major insomnia lately. I spend 12 hours a day in bed, because it takes me 3-5 hours to fall asleep. Melatonin only seems to work if I take it immediately before submerging myself in darkness. Even then, it's hit or mess. I've employed alternate methods - but they haven't seemed to work.

At least now I'm not as groggy during the day. I started taking iron supplements, because I remembered that I was turned away for blood donation when I was 19 for being anemic... I don't know why it took me 5 years to connect the dots, but days go by much more smoothly now.

My perception of time is a little... distorted. Night is day. Earlier today was actually yesterday. Sunrise is bedtime.

I caught glimpse of the sunrise this morning, as I was driving home from a "Girl's Night In" party. I can handle sunrises and sunsets... But I'm fast asleep for high noon. The sun actually hurts my flesh if I go outside during midday.

It's kind of funny. One of the girls at this little get-together happens to be friends with Panza. I've said it before, and I'll say it again:
For a City with a half-million residents, it sure is a small fucking town.

It's weird to talk about my relationship with Panza as though it were ancient history... Why, yes. We dated. But that's putting it mildly...

Has it really been a year?

Between working, and sleeping... Those days tend to stack up pretty quickly.

We've been working a lot on the Coffee Raiders Webcomic. We've decided to move up the launch date until October 26th - so we can include a Halloween-Themed strip. The website is almost done. Soon I will be releasing character bios on the Facebook Fan Page.

So.

12 days until Mike Brown comes to visit.
23 days until the Webcomic launches.
34 days until I fly home to Crescent City.

There it is.

Relationship Statuses

2010-09-23T19:20:00.000-07:00

One of the more insipid defining characteristics unique to my generation, is the fact that our interpersonal romantic relationships are now defined by Facebook Statuses.

People don't send out engagement notices anymore; they edit their "info" tab.

Breakups are no longer a private affair.

Jane Smith went from "being in a relationship" to "it's complicated".

Scorned lovers fill the "What's on your mind?" box with angsty song lyrics, until things reach a breaking point - and the little pink heart pops up in the feed once more.

Jane Smith went from "it's complicated" to "single".

It doesn't count as a real relationship anymore, unless it's acknowledged through social networking. A couple isn't considered TRULY an item until both parties confirm the relationship request.

The magic of Falling In Love has been lost in favor of a gathering an audience for a contractual proposition.

As annoying as it is, we all participate in the spectacle. We all look forward to the rush of commentary upon editing our statuses.

Instant validation!

Jane Smith went from "in a relationship" to "engaged".
(11 like this)

Facebook attempts to remain hip with seemingly unconventional status options such as "in an open relationship" and "it's complicated", but falls short of describing the complexities of many modern relationships.

Personally, I would like to propose a few alternative status options.

"Is Booty Call Buddy To"
"Had a One-Nighter With"
"Shamelessly Flirts With"
"Broke the Heart of"
"Sucks the Spirit Away From"
"Lied About Copulating With"

Am I jaded about relationships? Perhaps. But the entire concept seems simultaneously convoluted and moronic. It appears to me that the whole pursuit is a massive waste of time.

Yes, it's nice to be loved... But I have family members who love me, unconditionally.
Yes, it's nice to be cuddled... But I have friends to snuggle up against.
Yes, it's nice to be fucked... But I have power tools that can get me off in under two minutes.
Yes, it's nice to be kissed... But... Okay, I don't have a sufficient placebo for kissing.

I have a very active imagination, and incredibly lucid dreams. I can make do without romance.

Since I re-joined the ranks of the single-folk, I've found that every day I become more and more discouraged from participating in the bizarre mating rituals of my generation. I've gone to bars with female friends, and witnessed the horrorshow of crass seduction take place before my eyes. It's obscene... And not in the fun way.

How about another option for relationship status?

RETIRED.

I'm out.

Maybe not forever. I'm sure that a lucrative offer could lure me out of retirement.

It would have to be one heck of an exception, though. I'm raising the bar.

New rules:
No more settling for fixer-uppers. I deserve a whole man. I don't want to be anyone's crutch, or guardian angel. I won't be the only grown-up in a relationship. Above all, I absolutely REFUSE to be guilted into staying. The next time a man begs me not to leave, I'm walking out the door.

Until then? Maybe I can petition Facebook to add a write-in option for relationship status.

Manda

More Coffee Raiders Stuff.

2010-09-18T15:18:00.000-07:00

Alright, kids. The ball is rolling.

The domain is booked, we've mapped out the first 10 weeks of the comic's run, and we are hoping to launch in the middle of November.

We have a Facebook Fan Page, and a Designated Twitter Account to give progress updates and launch details.

Find. Follow. Like. Share. Retweet. Pimp. Please. Thanks.

(Eep!)

Manda

Vertigo and YOU!

2010-09-14T12:41:00.000-07:00

So, yesterday was pretty shitty. I had a hard time getting to sleep after work. Even when I did sleep, it was only for a half hour at a time. I think I got a collective 5 hours. I was super dizzy, and I ended up puking my guts up a half a dozen times. No bueno. Every time I stood up, I wanted to fall back down. Laying down, I couldn't get comfortable to save my life.

Windy ended up taking me to the ER at around 9pm. My little sister, Tiff, had a massive cyst on her leg that was growing exponentially - so we figured... Two birds. One ER.

It took 2.5 hours for me to get seen, and the Doctor diagnosed me in 60 seconds.

Vertigo.

Basically, my inner ear was all discombobulated - so my sense of balance was completely off. My brain thought I was on a boat.

I spent about 5 hours at the hospital all-told. They hooked me up to an IV, to restore my fluids and give me nausea medicine.

I slept SO WELL last night. I ended up just crashing at Windy's, so she could keep an eye on me. They ended up doing emergency surgery on Tiff's cyst - so it was a pretty stressful night, all told.

I'm feeling much better now, so long as I don't make any sudden movements. The doctor told me to rest 2-3 days, but he didn't give me a note. As such, I'm headed back to work this evening. I have a couple prescriptions to fill, so I have to run to the pharmacy first. Hopefully, driving won't be too difficult.

Right then. Off I go.
Manda

Darkest Dreams and Tales of Mystery

2010-09-12T15:37:00.000-07:00

I reserved a a new blogsite at wordpress in order to gauge interest on a blogging project I am considering. Ever since I was a child, I have felt the compulsion to document the goings on of my day-to-day life. In 2001, at age Fifteen, I started a series of journals that I called “Darkest Dreams and Tales of Mystery”. Over the course of the next five years I journaled religiously. All told, I filled twenty five volumes with the ultra-melodramatic ramblings of my adolescence. By 2004, my archives started to become quite heavy and burdensome. I switched to blogging, and have been running this domain ever since.

(Of course, there are major disadvantages to putting all of your recollections in digital format… In the fall of 2007, I lost a great deal of my archives. I’m still not certain whether that lost was due to malice, or electronic glitch.)

When I was Fifteen, I sincerely believed that I would grow up and publish DD&TM as books. I felt that my dedicated documentation of the human condition from the perspective of a teenager growing up in a post 9/11 world would be like GOLD.

Of course, going back and reading these things as an adult is quite traumatic. It’s embarrassing, really. I have found that my teenaged rants were equally brilliant and melodramatic.

I am fast approaching the ten-year anniversary of the date which I committed myself unto this journaling tradition.

In part, I feel like I owe it to my Fifteen Year Old Self to do SOMETHING with all these heavy volumes I’ve been lugging around for years. I am considering transcribing all those journal entries into blog format. The catch being, I will post each of the entries in chronological order – from start to finish. It will be a flashback blog. Each day, I will blog the corresponding entry from my journal exactly ten years ago.

My journal series began July 3rd of 2001. Meaning, if I can drum up enough interest in this project, the blog series will begin July 3rd of 2011.

I’m not going to lie. The entire project is going to be a humiliating experience for myself. It’s embarrassing enough for most people to look at photographs of themselves ten years ago… and I’m considering publishing my most secret thoughts from the most awkward years of my life.

There’s definitely some intriguing plot material in the series, that’s for sure. The dissolution of a forbidden romance between two teenage girls… The prisoner mentality of a homeschooler… Secret crushes… Insecure fits of self-loathing. Social commentary… Angry rants about the “injustices” committed by my parents.

I’m worried that it might stir up a little controversy with some of the folks I mention in my entries. It’s been a whole decade… Hopefully everyone is mature enough to concede that the statute of limitations has long since passed. I won’t use last names, if any of you are concerned.

This is definitely a time when I am looking for reader feedback. I don’t care if you’re just a lurker. I don’t care if you accidentally stumbled on this page looking for fetish porn. If you’re reading these words RIGHT NOW, I want to know: In your opinion… Should I do it?

I’m looking forward to your input,

Manda

Journal Entry: 9/11/01, 10:20pm

2010-09-11T14:31:00.000-07:00

The compulsion to write is no new phenomenon for me. While this blog itself has been around for 6 years, I have been journaling religiously since I was a child. In fact, one of the major reasons I switched to blogging, is that my archives started to become unbearably heavy.

Here is the entry from my journal, dated September 11, 2001. Please forgive the naivete and bad writing. I was barely fifteen at the time. I was confused, scared, and highly emotional.

They said Pearl Harbor would be a day that lived in infamy. Well - Pearl Harbor WWII ain't got shit on today. Not one, not 2, but four american commercial jets were hijacked by terrorists from the Middle East. They chose their flights for the maximum fuel load, and flew them to destruction.
And I DO MEAN DESTRUCTION.
One, the first plane, crashed into the north tower of the world trade center right in the middle of the financial district in NYC. The second plane crashed into the south tower of the world trade center, only 18 minutes later. Next, a plane crashed into the Pentagon. Then, the last plane crashed in rural Pennsylvania, which I honestly don't get. But hey. They're terrorists. Why make sense when you can kill thousands? It's awful. The world trade center twin towers completely collapsed, and sent a huge sea of smoke, dust, and ash covering lower Manhattan. I've been watching news all day since 7:30 this morning, when they knew nothing - and now that they've actually got some info & solid facts, I'm going to bed. New York is a giant puff of smoke surrounded by a jagged, almost naked skyline. I've seen so many images of people covered in ash & blood. The red cross says they'll be short blood type O & everything else too for months.
To give you an idea of the damage:
WTC Employs 50,000, has around 100,000 visitors in & out daily.
Pentagon employs 24,000, all evacuated but the 50-something injured.
WTC's surrounding hospitals have admitted 1,500 since the first crash.
266 people were aboard the 4 jets.
They can't get through the rubble until just now, so they won't have a death toll for weeks. The NY stock exchange shut down. All fed buildings in NY & DC were evacuated. Philadelphia landmarks evacuated. Major cities like LA & Denver are on Level 3 security, their fed buildings are evacuated & other businesses voluntarily evacuated. Disneyland and most theme parks shut down. ALL airports shut down. (No commercial flights.) Buslines suspended, awards shows postponed. San Francisco is searching all vehicles crossing the Golden Gate Bridge.
This is serious.
So far, about 7 major countries are backing America on any actions they take. So whoever started this is screwed. The bitch of it is - our economy is gonna suffer. I learned in Economics that a country's capital is like, 1/3 of what makes a good economy. Well, these guys just crunched up our capital resources. My uncle predicted this morning a rise in gas prices, so we all filled our tanks. And this evening, on the news, they said that some states are to $5/gallon. California is up 20 cents just to start.
People were prepared for Y2k, but not this.
I keep thinking about going into World War. I write this as our nation's heart has crumbled - & nothing good can come of it. It's hard for me to imagine what it's gonna be like from here out. I think of Anne Frank and all those millions of people who went through all these wars we've had, and wonder how they did it. War is the worst thing in the world, and stupid people are bringing it on. I don't believe in war, but these sons of guns should've considered who they mess with/. We're backed by all the major nations, so they best be stepping down to face the music.
Here's to world peace.
Amanda

It's almost creepy, all those predictions and reflections I made at such a young age.

I thought I'd share.
Manda

Girlie Adventure

2010-09-10T17:40:00.001-07:00

This week I only get one day off, on account of the whole schedule-changing nonsense. Don't get me wrong. I'm excited about the schedule change. As of tomorrow, I will be working 6pm-3am Saturday through Wednesday.
The good news, is that my partner-in-crime/cubicle-mate-of-awesomeness and I are going to the same team, and will be sharing a cubicle again. (Seriously, that place sucks without him. He is my comic relief.)
The bad news is... One day off this week.

I awoke to the pleasantly awesome surprise of my dear friend Sheila sneaking into my bedroom. Sheila lives in Denver, these days - so our visits are few and far between.

She talked me into accompanying her to a piercing parlor, where she then talked me into getting matching piercings with her.

TA-DA!

We also went out for mexican food.

Good day, all told.

Countdown... WITH PICTURES!

2010-09-09T00:43:00.000-07:00

I'm pretty excited.

Today, the awesome and talented Mike Brown booked a plane ticket to Colorado. Mike and I have been blog buddies almost as long as this blog has existed. (For those of you keeping track, that's about 6 years.) We've never met, but we've become super-awesome friends over time.

It is a personal goal of mine to meet all of my blog buddies before I die. The passing of my darling blog buddy Ms. Hep served as a major wake-up call. Life is short. It's time to pick up the pace.

October 14th, I will finally get to meet my good friend. FOR REALS.

Also, my time off has been approved for my November vacation.

November 4th, I will be flying in to Crescent City for a whole week. It's going to be a WAY better trip than last time - because I will have enough time to SLEEP.

I can't wait. I get to meet my niece!

I get to visit with the twins!

I get to frolic in the Redwoods!

I get to feed my soul, at the grey ocean's shore.

I get to engage in epic silliness with my best friend, Mary!

The countdown has begun.

Eep!

Manda

Time Wastes Too Fast...

2010-09-07T11:01:00.000-07:00

A year and a half ago, I mentioned in this blog that one of my dear blogosphere buddies had been diagnosed with cancer.

We lost her.

I never physically met the woman, but she touched my life in a positive way. When I was homeless and down on my luck, this woman I had never met, wanted to offer me shelter.
She gave me feedback and support for years.

Cancer fucked with the wrong diva.

Thanks for sharing some of your light with me Ms. Hep. The world is a better place, because you were a part of it.

When The War is Over, You Can Read the Paper.

2010-09-02T14:29:00.000-07:00

You're all probably aware that the combat troops have left Iraq. (If you weren't aware, perhaps it's time to reevaluate your definition of "news".)

So here we are. The "war" has "ended". There were no mass crowds of soldiers snogging in the streets. There was no dramatic staged performance in a flight suit, nor was there a giant "Mission Accomplished" banner. Hell, people didn't even seem to notice. The Twittershpere continued as usual, with mindless trending topics. I didn't see a single person erupt into cheers... Or even mention it, for that matter.

I refuse to let this happen. Too many good people gave too much, for us to allow this major conflict to end without closure - or at least acknowledgement.

I'm not your typical troop-rallying sort of gal. I'm just another average bleeding-heart-raise-your-taxes-and-take-your-guns whiny liberal.

The Iraq war played a major role in my coming-of-age. I remember being a teenager, sitting cross-legged on my uncle's living room floor, watching Dubya deliver an ultimatum to Saddam. I remember the nightvision live coverage, when we started dropping bombs. I was a Senior in High School, then... Sixteen years old. Old enough to remember what life was like before 2001, but still young enough to feel helpless.

In the summer of 2004, I met the man I would later marry. He was sent home for a couple weeks of mid-tour leave, after a display of selfless heroics in the slums of Baghdad. He served with Casey Sheehan, and took part in the infamous battle (known to survivors as "Black Sunday") that claimed Casey's life.

The very same day we met, we fell asleep in each other's arms. He had never had a girlfriend, and I never had a "real" boyfriend. Neither of us were any experienced with relationships, but we fell quickly and passionately in love. The two weeks we had together were a whirlwind of bliss. He bought me roses. We met one another's parents. We held hands through the park, and kissed as the sun set over the ocean. The day he flew back to Iraq I couldn't even get out of bed. He called me from Germany, to tell me that he loved me.

I wrote him every day. I know girls promise to do that all the time, but I actually sat down and hand-wrote to him every single day. I sent care packages with miniature christmas trees, and a walkman with a cassette tape recordings where I would sing, and read stories.

The next year of my life was an exciting and terrifying time. I went to college full-time. I joined the Kerry Campaign. I became the youngest member of the local Democratic Central Committee. I started this blog. I took part in the Seven Inches of Service project, with separated Army girlfriends from across the country... Some of whom I am still very close with today.

Bush said "Either you are with us, or you are with the enemy".

I made it my personal mission in life to prove him wrong.

Nothing boiled my blood more, than being accused as a traitor. Folks SINCERELY BELIEVED that if you disagreed with the war, you hated the troops.
Right-Wingers baited me, and I set them straight.

"You want to tell me I don't support the troops? I'm willing to bet I've done more in the past WEEK to boost a deployed soldier's morale than you have done in your entire life. I send care packages. I write letters. I do strip-teases on webcam. That's right motherfuckers. I love our troops. I RESPECT our troops. So much so, that I demand their safety. These men and women signed up to protect our asses. The ABSOLUTE least we could do for them is to be absolutely certain that if we MUST send them into harm's way, that it be for a noble cause, AND include an exit strategy. They deserve AT LEAST that much. While we're at it, how about kicking down some of those millions from the defense budget TO the soldiers? Halliburton's got enough money. Our troops could use some adequate fucking armor."

Yeah. I was a rabble-rousing little whippersnapper in my day...

My deployed soldier came home, disabled and distressed. I held him through the night terrors. I listened to his horrifying tales of combat. I supported him financially, while waiting for his disability to be approved. Hell, I even managed to bend the ear of a Congressman, in my efforts to grant him the recognition he deserved for his heroism.
(He politely declined the Congressman's assistance though. He humbly stated that he was merely doing his job, and he didn't want anyone making a fuss.)

This is my story. Just one story. One story out of tens of thousands. Soldiers. Journalists. Medics. Lovers. Fathers. Daughters.

Seven years.

The war in Iraq impacted many of our lives. Some became stronger. Others, weaker. Some lost their lives. Some lost their limbs. Some lost their minds. Marriages dissolved. Children orphaned. Folk heroes emerged. Schools were built. Lessons were learned.

The war in Iraq changed the world.

It would be a disservice to human kind, if we let this moment pass without solemn acknowledgment of the magnitude of it's importance.

(Image shamelessly "borrowed" from NewsOne. Read their article here.)

Tell your stories. Share your experiences. Cultural worth is defined by the richness of our collective personal histories. Open up a line of dialogue. Talk to your coworkers and families. Don't worry. Bieber will still be trending on Twitter tomorrow.

Yes, I come here often. Sure, I'll have another one.

2010-08-30T13:41:00.000-07:00

When I have steady access to a computer with internet access, I can go a week without blogging - and I don't even think twice.

When I DON'T have steady access to a computer with internet access, it seems as though my writer's block is miraculously cured - and suddenly, I have A MILLION IMPORTANT THINGS TO WRITE ABOUT.

My laptop's power cord spontaneously combusted a couple days ago. A couple days without my computer felt like AN ETERNITY.

Sure, I have a smart-phone. I have instant access to my twitter/facebook/gmail accounts. But. You know. A touch-screen keyboard isn't exactly conducive to brilliant and prolific writing.

I have a couple different things that I want to write about, and hopefully I will remember them all when I have time to sit down and write anything DECENT.

Until then, I will share a few anecdotes that will illustrate how my past couple weeks have been.

I accidentally quit smoking. Accidentally, being the key word. I was horrifically sick for a day. So much so, that the very thought of smoking made me want to vomit. The first 24 hours of nicotine withdrawals are the worst. I was already sick and stressed, so the withdrawals didn't even register as noteworthy to my body. The NEXT 24 hours, I was still mildly queasy, and didn't feel up to driving to the store to buy another pack. By the time I got my hands on a cigarette... It tasted disgusting. I haven't bought a pack in two weeks. Don't get me wrong, I still smoke when I'm drinking... And, knowing my willpower and tendency to get overly stressed - I'll probably pick it back up again full-time at some point. But for now, it's kinda nice to not feel as though I'm PHYSICALLY NEEDING to spend $15+ a week on cigarettes.
Mercury is in retrograde, and it sucks. Especially in my line of work. Minor miscommunications are easily blown out of proportion. I've been flat-out verbally abused to the point of tears 3 times in the past week. It seems to be getting better, now that I've REALIZED that the universe is fucking with everyone's anxiety levels. I've been able to adjust my communication skills accordingly, and avoid further agitation.
I worked a swap for a coworker this week. Meaning, I only got one day off this week. So I'm going a little crazy. There is good news, though! BECAUSE of this swap - I get a three-day-weekend starting Thursday. (Whether or not this three-day-weekend will be relaxing remains to be seen... I'm going to have the kids. Yes. THE kids. I know it's technically not my job anymore, but I love 'em. So there's that.)
I'm trying to adjust my health habits. I'm not necessarily trying to lose weight, so much as - I'm trying to avoid gaining any MORE weight - in light of the whole accidentally quitting smoking thing. I bought one of those stainless steel water bottles to keep at my desk at work, to convince myself to drink more water and less soda. I've also started taking Iron supplements, as I remembered that I am borderline anemic - which could be contributing to my sluggishness. So far, I've seen an improvement in my energy levels.

That's all I have time for, today. I leave you with this picture of my darling Sandi - which I took Friday afternoon when we went for a stroll in the park.

Service With a Smile

2010-08-24T14:49:00.000-07:00

I need a vacation. I know I've been saying this for a while, but the validity of the statement increases exponentially with each passing day.

The universe keeps trying to deliver messages, but I've been moving so fast that I haven't had time to absorb them.

Work. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.

I only have a few waking hours each day outside of work. All of them are spent trying to fall asleep, trying to wake up, or commuting.

It's not so much that work itself is awful. The job is decent enough. It's easy enough that I feel like I know what I'm doing, but challenging enough that I feel like I'm learning.
The pay is good. The benefits are great. My coworkers are awesome.

It's just... In any customer service position, it's easy to lose faith in human decency. Particularly in my job. I work in an industry where the vast majority of calls occur as a result of a service not functioning in the capacity that it should. It should comfort me to know that these callers are a mere fraction of the entire customer base, which is a mere fraction of a cross-section of humanity as a whole. I'm SURE that there's a whole big world out there, and it's teeming with pleasantly decent people - many of whom have perfectly functional cable service.

But I don't spend eight hours a day talking to THEM.

Nobody calls up their service provider to say "Hey! Everything's awesome! I appreciate you!"

(Actually, that did happen to me once. It was weird, but it made me smile.)

I spend my day interacting with that minute percentage of the population whose experience with our company has been obscene.

Some days I feel like a rockstar. I'll personally persuade a customer to stay with the company by finding and resolving the underlying issue (rather than treating the symptoms as they arise) - and then restructuring their bill so that they get the same services at a discounted rate. I can make a customer's DAY - which is great for business. (I mean, when I have an awesome experience with a company, it puts me in a great mood - and I tell everyone I know. Case in point? Progressive Insurance. I am never switching. They are golden gods of the customer service industry. Tell your friends.)

Other days, I get callers from mental patients with permanent notes on their file indicating that they have a history of issuing bomb threats towards the company... Or paranoid jerks who think that the little blinking lights on their modem indicates that we are spying on them...
They scream at me and insult me, they threaten to have me fired, they make unreasonable demands, and they hang up on me.
Day after day, it gets to the point where it doesn't matter how small a fraction of the world these people represent... It still hurts.

At the end of the day, call center representatives are people too. We are humans just like you with our 0wn negative corporate experiences. We hate dealing with outsourced tech support and unreliable services as much as you do. We understand why you hate our company. Shit. We WORK there. We know how fucked up it is. But don't take it out on us. We're on your side.

Customer service representatives are FAR more motivated to help when we're NOT being screamed at. Yeah. We GET that you're pissed. We get WHY you're pissed. Now, calm the fuck down so we can fix it for you.

Oh. Yeah. And, in response to the PostSecret submission featured above?

Only if you're an asshole.

Manda

Is this thing on?

2010-08-20T02:35:00.000-07:00

I just set up a service linking this blog (active nearly 6 years now) to my Twitter-Feed (active nearly three years now).

This is a test.

Testing.

Ahem.

New Hairs

2010-08-17T01:53:00.000-07:00

Oh yeah. In all of the emotional discombobulation, I forgot to mention... I did stuff to my hair.

I'm trying to grow it out which - as you may know by now - is a bit of a challenge for me. My lame superpower is the ability to grow hair at an OBSCENE RATE everywhere except on my head. My last haircut was in November, so my ends were super brittle and fried.
I had a deep conditioning treatment, and a trim to incorporate layers and bangs. I then dyed the under layer red, and the rest black.

Hopefully with all of these changes, I won't be tempted to hack it all off again. It's finally getting to about shoulder length (when straightened). That's usually my breaking point.
It's difficult to gauge my hair growth because it's so damned curly. I did a relaxing treatment last month, and it's already poofing back up on me. I've got a bitchin' flat-iron that I shelled out $100 for back in Ot-Seven that has treated me well... Unfortunately, since my hair is so damned thick - it takes anywhere from 20 to 60 minutes to do my whole head... And I'm really not that committed to any sort of beauty regimen.

Whaddya think?
Manna

Red fades before blue

2010-08-14T14:48:00.000-07:00

So... The wedding is off.

I could write a long-emo rant explaining the ins and outs of everything I feel right now. I could spend hours articulating the right words to explain to you the pit of self-loathing that I have banished myself to...

But that's what the private blog is for.

Instead, I'll sum up.

It's my fault.
I love him but I'm not "in love" with him.
I've tried really hard, but I only really see him as a really awesome friend.
I thought I could "Fake it 'til I make it".
I'm flaky.
I'm incapable of making grownup decisions.
I've devastated him.
Once we find a way to tell the kids, it will devastate them.
I feel like a shitty human being.
I couldn't pretend anymore.
I didn't want to lie to him for the entire duration of the marriage.
Shit's complicated, on account of the whole "living together" thing.
I've been crying a lot lately.

Face->Palm

Sorry, I am...

2010-08-13T12:19:00.000-07:00

I'm sorry I didn't sound more excited on the phone
I'm sorry that after all these years
I've left you feeling unrequited and alone, brought you to tears
I guess I never loved you quite as well as the way you loved me
I guess I'll never really be able to tell you how sorry
I am

And I don't know what it is about you
I just know it's not what it was
I don't know why red fades before blue it just does
and I don't know what it is about me
that I just can't keep still
I keep thinking someday I will make this all up to you
and maybe someday I will

I guess I never loved you quite as well
as the way you loved me
I guess I'll never really be able to tell you how sorry
I am
sorry I am
sorry I am
sorry I am

Ani DiFranco - Sorry I am

On Being a Grownup: Pros vs Cons.

2010-08-07T16:43:00.000-07:00

CONS

Rent/Mortgages: As kids/adolescents, we completely took for granted the fact that having a place to go at the end of the day was FREE. Back then, the concept of four walls and a roof seemed like something we were ENTITLED to. As a grownup, we have to spend a HUGE chunk of change on just having a consistent place to sleep. It's pretty lame. Don't get me wrong, it's worth it. When I was homeless, I vowed to never take a roof over my head for granted again. I appreciate the fact that I have a safe place to come home to after work, but it totally sucks that it costs so damned much.
Jobs: Five days a week (plus or minus, depending on the situation), us grownups have to trek to an office/restaurant/store/etc and play by someone else's rules for eight (plus or minus) hours at a stretch. We have to pretend to like people who get on our nerves. We have to feign empathy, brown-nose, race the rats, and pretend to give a damn about a mediocre product/service/cause - all for a little money. We have to invest our minds in training. We risk our physical well-being against the pains of physical labor, carpal tunnel, fryer burns and eye-strain. We sacrifice our psychological well-being, sitting in cubicles, being belittled by angry customers. We give a HUGE part of ourselves to corporations in exchange for a bi-weekly check and (if you're lucky) a little medical insurance. If that's not prostitution, I don't know what is. At least hookers get laid when THEY sell themselves.
School: When you're a kid, you'll try every trick in the book to get out of going to school. When you're a grownup, you HAVE to go to school to get a job that pays a living wage... AND THEY CHARGE YOU TO GO!
Utility Bills: When I was younger, I thought my dad was just being anal-retentive when he jumped my case for leaving lights on. Now, I freak out when one of the kids keeps the fridge door open for more than 4 "Mississippi"s. I overheard a suitable anecdote while on my smoke break at work last week... "I saved up for a YEAR to buy an air conditioner for our house. Now it's real pretty to look at, but we can't afford to turn the damned thing on!"
Credit Cards: Having a credit card is like PAYING to be anally raped. The entire ordeal is a slippery slope leading to total financial cluster-fuck. You get your first card when you're 18. You promise yourself you'll only ever use it for gas - and you will pay the balance down completely every month... Six months later your tires blow out, so you have to max the card out for repairs. Then you get an offer in the mail for a BETTER card, with a higher limit, better rate, and a balance transfer program. So you get it, and quickly realize the other card isn't compatible for the balance transfer, but you decide to keep the account anyways - because it is a better deal than the other card... Five years and numerous life emergencies later, you find yourself with 5 credit cards, 30% APR, and debt that never seems to go down - no matter how much money you throw at it. Yet, you HAVE to procure AND use a credit card to build credit history if you ever plan to buy a car or a house before you die!
Chores: When you're a kid, chores suck. When you're a grownup - it's a gajillion times worse! First off, there are WAY more chores to do. Dishes, laundry, sweeping, mopping, cooking, organizing, dusting, scrubbing toilets, cleaning the gunk out of the fridge, taking out the garbage, washing the car, vacuuming, windows... But to add insult to injury, we have to do all this crap AFTER already having spent 8+ hours playing corporate whore. NOT FAIR!

PROS

Swearing: If I slam my finger in the door, screaming "MOTHER ASS FUCK!" at the top of my lungs will not result in a soapy mouth or sore ass-cheek.
Diet: I can have soda with breakfast and Ice Cream for dinner if I damned well please. Sure, my innards might protest later, but that's MY battle to fight. I get to make that choice. Convention be damned!
Mobility: Granted, I hate driving, but I LOVE having the freedom to get up and LEAVE if I find myself in times of discontent and/or mind-numbing ennui. I don't have to depend on anyone else to run errands or go on a spontaneous adventure.
Sleep Schedule: I can stay up as late as I want, and sleep in as late as I want, provided it doesn't interfere with my responsibilities. Once more, the consequences are mine to deal with. If I want to stay out at a bar until 1:45am, go out to coffee until 3:30am, then take a quick nap and shotgun an energy drink before my 6am shift - it's my choice!
Family: Interactions with family members are fewer, further between, on your own terms, and - consequently - much more enjoyable. It's a LOT easier to appreciate your parents/extended family when your interactions with them aren't forced.
Arguing: If you try to logically explain to a kid why they aren't allowed to do something - and they persist in pleading... You are officially entitled to utilize the beautiful phrase passed down from generation to generation...

BECAUSE I SAID SO!

Love and kisses,
Manda

On Schedules, Childcare, and Housing

2010-08-05T13:31:00.000-07:00

I started taking Melatonin this week to help me get to sleep before the sun comes up. I get home at about 2:30am, crawl in bed by 4, and fall asleep anywhere from 5-7am. Consequently, I end up sleeping right up until it is time to get up and go to work again.

Melatonin came highly recommended from several friends.

It works! But there are some noticeable drawbacks. The component affects the way the brain reacts to light. If you take it at night, it tells your brain that you are supposed to be asleep - and you can drift off. However, I have noticed that if it is still in my system when the sun is up (or even in a heavily lit room) - it essentially acts as a bitch pill. It becomes quite difficult to fall back asleep, and I get SUPER irritable.

The first night I took it, I went to bed at 2am - and was up and at 'em by 9am. I haven't seen 9am in AGES. Probably not since February. I felt so victorious that I took Mondo out to breakfast (a meal that is eaten before noon) to celebrate.

Unfortunately, I had to work that night. Getting up at 9am isn't all that of a great idea when you have to work until 2 in the morning. With any luck, I can get into a schedule where I can fall asleep by 4, and wake up by noon.

Today was the shift bid at work. I don't have that great of a seniority level - so it was really scraping the bottom of the barrel by the time I got there to make my choice. I was hoping to shoot for an early morning shift. I can do early mornings, and I can do late nights - but I positively ABHOR mid-day shifts. 10am-7pm is Satan's schedule. You can't stay up late, you can't sleep in, and most businesses are closed by the time you get off work - so there is no usable part of the day left over.

I ended up nabbing a 6pm-3am shift with Thursdays and Fridays off. It's pretty similar to what I have now, so I won't have to go through (much of) an adjustment period again. It's not the best case scenario for the kids, but to me it was better than the other options. If I had gotten a 10-7, I would have gotten an hour with the kids each day before bed - but would have needed a sitter 4 days a week for 4 hours a day. This way, we only need a sitter Wednesday nights, and every third weekend. Granted, we would need that sitter to be there for almost 8 hours - but the kids would be asleep for the majority of that timeframe.

I still have no clue who we are going to have watch the kids on Wednesdays, but the shift doesn't start until mid-September... So we still have a little time to sort out the childcare stuff.

In other news, Mondo and I have been drooling over alternate housing. After doing a little online house-hunting, he has conceded that we are getting overcharged in rent. Don't get me wrong, this house would TOTALLY be worth a grand a month if it were in decent condition. Maybe with a little landscaping, some repairs and renovations, I could see the house being worth that much. Hell, if the ENTIRE DOWNSTAIRS AREA wasn't in shambles and roped off - it would be justifiable to charge even $1200+ a month. C'mon. I used to have my fingers on the pulse of the local Real Estate market when I worked at the answering service. I know when we're getting a bum deal.

We've been looking at a few other listings. I hate moving, but it would be worth it to save a few bucks a month and shorten the daily commute. Mondo's Mom has offered to help us out with the deposit, which has really motivated us to intensify our search. The problem is, we're pretty picky. We don't want to pay MORE than we are right now, we don't want to live in an apartment/townhome/duplex, and with the kids - schools and neighborhood safety become non-negotiable factors.

We found this house (forgive the shitty screenshot edit) for $900/month. It's about 5 blocks from downtown, 2 miles to work, and in a neighborhood that we adore. Plus, it's super-cute.

Unfortunately, the landlords are out of town. So we can't actually schedule a showing for a couple weeks. If we signed a two year lease, we would get it for $900/month. We're pretty much in love with it. There's no saying that we even have a shot at getting it. Mondo has pretty crappy credit - but we both are gainfully employed with middle-class incomes, so some folks will let that slide.

Back to work, now.

Manda

Projects and Pictures

2010-07-31T23:01:00.000-07:00

Since my car still doesn't work, I've been stuck at home my whole weekend. I've been bored out of my mind. I cleaned, re-arranged furniture, sorted an epic amount of laundry, and watched several episodes of shows that Mondo copied to the hard drive of his PS3.

Today (with Mondo's permission) I decided to do an ART PROJECT!
This was Mondo's crappy old computer desk. We both use laptops, so it hasn't gotten much use since his mom moved out. It was a warped and (in some places) mold-damaged eye-sore.

First I gave it a slap-dash base. I like to call it

"Lavender Mist... If Jackson Pollock was having a siezure."

Next, I painted a tiny circle in the center - and the general design evolved from there.

I'm gonna be honest, I just made shit up as I went.

This was the finished product. I'm pretty excited about it. I'm not going to claim that I have any artistic ability, but I have a thing for spastic purple-y designs. So, it works for me.

And since I'm already posting pictures, I thought I would share some others that I'm fond of...
The kids and I, being weirdos at the Zoo earlier this month.

My #TeaTimeOnTheInterwebs photo from this morning... I kinda almost think I look pretty here. That's awfully rare, so I figured I should post it.

That's all I've got, for now.

Love and Kisses,
Manna

On Cars, Money, and The American Dream

2010-07-30T17:50:00.000-07:00

Gurt has been freaking out on me. Just last month Mondo and John tackled the long-overdue task of replacing my brakes... It seems to me that every time I throw money at a vehicle, something else goes terribly wrong.

I put about well over $1000 into repairs for my Kia before it bit the dust. I totaled Micro-Machine the week after I dropped money on an oil/air filter change.

As such, it is only fitting that Gurt would threaten to quit on me after I finally had the brakes fixed.

Tuesday night (or "Monday morning" - as you normal people call it), when I got in my car to drive home from work - it didn't start right away. The engine turned over, but it just sorta sputtered out and died. On the third try, I got the engine to stay on - but the rpm gauge was doing the spastic cha-cha. The car was super-jerky, and accelerating was a bitch. I was terrified that the car wouldn't make it the 5 miles home.

Since I had a real lack of money and/or time - Mondo drove me to and from work for the rest of the week. It was a groovy arrangement, in that we both work at the same place. The disadvantage was, he goes to work an hour before me - and I get off an hour and a half after him.

(My desk at work...)

I've come close to adjusting to a nighttime schedule. Getting off at 2am doesn't sound SO bad, but it takes me at LEAST 2-3 hours to wind down after work. As such, I can't usually fall asleep until AFTER the sun comes up. 4:30am is bed-time if I'm lucky... But I usually can't manage to settle down enough to close my eyes until almost 6am most days. As such, I usually end up sleeping until 2pm - and I feel horrifically guilty for it. I feel like such a shitty pseudo-parent for the simple fact that Mondo is always the one to wake up with the kids. He works late, too... Just not as late as me. Not to mention, it's WAY easier for him to fall asleep than it is for me. I will hear him snoring within 10 minutes of saying his final "Goodnight". My back pain has been kicking my ass, lately. Even if I could make myself sleepy as soon as I got home from work - I would be tossing and turning trying to find a position most comfortable for my back. My chair at work sucks, but I can't get a special one without a doctor's note. I can't go to the damned doctor, because I sleep through the usable part of the day.

This past week has consisted of me spending 10 hours at the call center, trying to fall asleep, and then sleeping. I haven't accomplished jack shit, and I feel positively useless as a human being.

Our work schedules and transportation arrangement made it damned near impossible for us to spend any time with the kids anyways, so Mondo let them go to their mother's for the week. Both of us have been feeling pretty bummed that we had to fall back on her. The longer they stay over there, the harder it is to adjust when they come back. Not to mention, Mondo's ex-wife has a mouse-begging-for-cookie mentality. She's already trying to convince Mondo to give her full custody.

It just plain sucks, because WE are the responsible ones with jobs, a house, and a few other major grown-up qualifiers that would be rude to mention here... Unfortunately, because we have those jobs (as opposed to leeching off the system) to support the kids - we aren't afforded as much time as we would like for actually raising them. Once upon a time, I hear-tell that it was possible for a family of 4 to survive on the income of ONE parent, allowing the other parent the freedom to actively participate in the lives and development of the youngsters. That entire concept sounds more like a fairy-tale, nowadays. Today, our pseudo-family just barely scrapes by on TWO middle-class salaries.

In my humble opinion, I think we are spending WAY too much money on rent. Yes, the house is spacious - and has some lovely features (hardwood floors, jetted tub, fireplace, etc...). But $1000/month for a house that filled with incomplete remodeling projects, and entire areas roped off and deemed "out of bounds" by the landlord? We're getting ripped off. The rental housing market in this part of town is nowhere near a level that would justify rent that high. We could get something adequate, and closer to work, for considerably less money.

I really ought to go see a doctor about my fertility issues. (Not to mention, the fact that I haven't had a period in EIGHT MONTHS.) But at this point I'm thinking... Fuck it. Yes, I want to experience pregnancy/childbirth/raising an infant - DESPERATELY. But we hardly even see the kids that we have. And I would very much prefer to be able to stay at home for the first six months of my metaphysical baby's life. There's just no way that can happen with our current cost of living to income ratio. Adding another kid to the mix is only going to make matters more complicated.

I got a little off-track, there.

Today I had my car diagnosed. Something having to do with spark plugs. I bought all the parts to fix it. Hopefully soon I will have it working properly, so I can regain a little bit of my independence.

But hey, there is some good news!

My REAL engagement ring got here this week. I love it. I was expecting something completely different, based on the website's pictures - but I like it in person WAY MORE than I did on the website. That's a first for me.

It's White gold with Black AND White Diamonds. This is a pretty close shot of it. It's actually really cute and dainty. It's hard to find "dainty" rings in my size. It seems that jewelers and clothing designers share the same fucked up delusion - that fat people have no taste.

It's pretty. It makes me feel feminine. Very few things do. I'm not exactly... Girly... Case in point?

I rest my case.

Right then. Back to housework.

Manda

Perchance to Dream

2010-07-24T13:53:00.000-07:00

Very rarely do I find myself actually excited about the theatrical release of a film. In the rare event that an upcoming feature actually manages to pique my interest, I usually end up waiting for it to come out on DVD.
Don't get me wrong - I fully appreciate the merits of the Cinema experience... But only in the right context. Going to the theater to see a mediocre movie is as wasteful as taking a toothless Meth-Whore to the Louvre.

I will be the first to admit that I am often out of the loop when it comes to the goings on of pop culture. I don't watch a lot of live television, because I don't feel like paying major corporations hundreds of dollars a year to fund focus groups dedicated to finding subtle ways to convince me that my life is meaningless without cheap plastic CRAP.

So, when all of my Facebook Friends and Trusted Twits started blathering on about this Inception movie, I didn't take much notice.

They did the same thing when Avatar was released.

"Best movie of the year!" they exclaimed.
"Mind-blowing special effects!" they gushed.

I'm going to be perfectly honest with you. Avatar left me completely unimpressed. I mean, sure. I will admit, it was well made. But, come on. A cookie-cutter forged utilizing the finest craftsmanship the world has ever known is still just a fucking cookie cutter. I liked Avatar a lot better when I was a kid... And it was called Fern Gully.

For these very reasons, I was hesitant to pay notice when the Twittersphere blew up with Inception talk.

That was before I knew what the movie was about...

Now, everyone subscribes to their own brand of "crazy". Most people do so through religion. I personally never really could grasp the appeal of worshiping an invisible omnipotent jealous control-freak. I have, however, always been fascinated by the very subject of lucid dreaming.

When I was a kid, I was pretty much a certifiable loser. I was the fat girl, a year younger than everyone else, who preferred reading under the blankets with a flashlight to learning Cheer-leading routines. Suffice it to say, I felt pretty well disassociated with/excluded from my waking life. It was around that same time that I discovered the concept of Lucid Dreaming.

I realized at a young age, that if I could consciously acknowledge the fact that I was dreaming WITHOUT waking up - I gained ultimate control over the dream. You know Harold and the Purple Crayon? Yeah. Like that. Except, with a much more impressive artistic capacity.
The idea of constructing my own Utopia wherein I could spend One-Third of my life seemed like the perfect coping mechanism with which to assuage the emotional pain associated with being a pre-pubescent pariah.

It was way better than waking life. I trained myself in ways to fall asleep, and stay asleep. I taught myself how to quickly identify that I was asleep - so that I might extend the duration of the dream.

Of course, once my parents noticed that I was sleeping more than I used to - they assumed I was depressed, and sent me to a therapist. Now, mind you, I was depressed... But to me - lucid dreaming was far more theraputic than sitting in a room full of stuffed animals, let alone a daily dose of pharmaceuticals.

As I grew older, I continued with the creative evolution of my personal Utopia on a nightly basis. Through my teenage years, I used the dream world to manifest physical affection. Companionship. Love. Sex. I concocted a happy ending for the romance that my parents forbid. I unapologetically kicked the crap out of my subconscious' projection of the jerk who (in real life) obliterated the "Buddy" element of our relationship's title after I realized that I could no longer allow the word "Fuck" to precede it.
Being a teenager sucked, but I had the perfect escape.

My dreamworld served it's purpose in my college years, as well. In real life, I was separated from the soldier I loved by politics and war. But in dreams, our love knew no bounds. I was able to meticulously design our perfect future together.
Up until that point - through my decade-plus experience with lucid dreaming - it had never crossed my mind that the fantasy world might pose a threat to my perception of reality...
But it did.
I don't think there is a soul alive who knew me when I met Kris who would dare say that I did not love him. However, the first two years of our relationship did not afford us the opportunity to plan our lives together. I built those plans myself, in dreams... and became suicidally disappointed when reality didn't measure up.
I had little grasp on the concept of reprisal, because every bold move I had ever made was executed in a consequence-free environment.
I ended up destroying reality. I no longer wanted a mere vacation from my waking life... I wished to emigrate from it entirely.
I wanted to find out what came next. I assumed it HAD to be more tolerable than the cluster-fuck I had made of my life.
I was convinced - as an atheist - that neither heaven nor hell awaited me. I sincerely hoped that the death truly was "The Big Sleep". I deeply wished that my personal Utopia would greet me on the other side.

Suffice it to say, that the subject of dream manipulation intrigues me on a very personal level.

For this reason, the film Inception was a powerful experience for me.

The trailers didn't come close to depicting the depth of the film's relevancy to me... to a concept so closely paralleled to my personal experiences.

Not only is the premise brilliant, but (unlike many far-fetched sci-fi plotlines) it draws from a concept that is so closely tied to the human experience, that it allows the viewer to accept the idea as possible. Consequently, the audience members are no longer spectators to an idea - but participants in what can only be described as an architectural masterpiece in the form of a mind labyrinth.

Inception is a conceivable tale based in a world where technology allows us to participate in co-conscious lucid dreaming... Where multiple people are able to simultaneously navigate the subconscious landscape of the human mind. The notion is that, in our waking lives, we can only utilize a fraction of the brain's capacity... But in dreams, we can access the untapped potential - which allows us to simultaneously perceive and create. This ability opens up literal WORLDS of possibility. In this dreamscape of infinite possibility - it becomes feasible to steal ideas, share thought, and implant inspiration.

Dreams within dreams, time dilation, co-conscious perception... The mind-yoga I participated in while watching that movie was the best trip I've ever been on that didn't require a bong.

Somehow, Inception brilliantly manages to avoid cliches WITHOUT heading so far into the abstract that the viewer feels frustrated and lost.
I mean, there's a fine line between predictable sci-fi (Avatar) and "WTF?!" (Mullholland Drive). Inception walks the tight-rope elegantly - striking a perfect balance between mass appeal, and intellectual merit.

It definitely struck a chord with me. In the disinterest of accidentally dropping a spoiler, I will avoid detail in explaining why this film moved me in particular. Suffice it to say, I feel a kinship with Mrs. Cobb's character.

Any situation arising in which I would feel so strongly compelled to encourage my readers to go out and see a movie in theaters is quite rare. Please take this into consideration when I advise you that Inception was well worth the $8, 2 & 1/2 half hours, and implied awkwardness of going to the cinemas alone.

Tell your friends.
Manda

More than you wanted to know

2010-07-19T01:59:00.000-07:00

I couldn't fall asleep. Instead of counting sheep, I decided to count bizarre anecdotes...

I enjoy spoonerisms, alliteration, and paraprosdokian phrases.
One of my least favorite genres of music is Country. Strangely enough, I have an awesome Country music singing voice.
I tend to cast extremely harsh judgments on people based on the way they construct their sentences in the context of IM and text-message.
For that very reason, I tend to retroactively correct my grammar and punctuation in casual IM chats... Sometimes several minutes after the message lost it's relevancy...
I'm probably a horrible influence.
I'm pretty sure I was BORN to be either a teacher or a mother. Which makes #5 hilarious...
Sometimes I'm relieved that I am overweight. Especially when I'm in a room with skinny girls and cake.
I am a lucid dreamer. Seriously. I've been living a double-life since I was about 11 years old.
I find lesbian sex positively enchanting, but I'm far too self-conscious to pursue it.
Both of the women I have slept with are straight, but I had a girlfriend for a year in high school who I never even kissed.
I've been playing the guitar since I was 8 years old. My skills have not evolved much, since.
I masturbate more than most guys I know.
I am terrified that hand-written communication is becoming obsolete. For this very reason, it makes my DAY when someone leaves me a note, or writes me a letter.
I find compulsive exaggerators to be almost as pathetic as compulsive liars.
When I was 13 years old, I saw my favorite singer live in concert. When I was 23 years old, I saw her again - and it was JUST AS AWESOME.
The song I'm always whistling is called "Shpadoinkle day" from Cannibal the Musical.
I will always feel that the grass is greener on the other side.
If I were ever in the same room as Amanda Palmer, Eddie Izzard, Jon Stewart and Ani DiFranco - I would probably piss my pants and fall over dead... Not necessarily in that order.
I hate driving. Seriously. Being behind the wheel stresses me the hell out. I would sleep at work, if I could get away with it.
In my previous job, I slept at work twice. Both times, because I was afraid to drive home.
I work for a cable company, but I haven't had cable TV in almost 4 years. I think it's a waste of money. There, I said it.
Fictional Characters I have fallen in love with include: Hank Moody from Californication, Professor Snape from Harry Potter, Toby Ziegler from The West Wing, Holden Caulfield from The Catcher in the Rye, Howard Wolowitz from The Big Bang Theory & Fawkes from The Guild.
I am freakishly conscious of all my deepest, most shameful character flaws - but seemingly powerless to adjust the offending behavior.
I firmly believe that if you don't know enough about an issue to effectively argue both positions, you don't have the right to open your fucking mouth in the first place.
I'm pretty sure that I have body dysmporphia. My entire perception of my physical appearance is comprised of caricatures representing everything negative that I've absorbed over the course of my life.

"Drink up baby, stay all night..."

2010-07-15T13:05:00.000-07:00

The first week in my new shift has been relatively AWESOME. I didn't think I would like it very much, but it's turned out to be really quite perfect for me.

I... Um.

I like my job.

Don't get me wrong, we talk to a LOT of crazies. Especially during the late night shifts. It's not difficult, though. In fact, I've picked up a lot of hilarious stories from the interactions I have with callers late at night.

Like the nerdy guy who told me that he had imagined me in a leather bustier with a riding crop. Or the elderly gentleman whose teenage-based-programming wasn't coming in clearly - so he ordered pornography instead. Or the Fox News conspiracy theorist who insisted ADAMANTLY that a liberal plot was preventing his DVR from recording The O'Reilly Factor.

I can't wait until I get quality assurance monitoring on a call where I upsell porn. I'm totally professional about it. For some reason or another, I'm really good at getting people to feel comfortable asking awkward questions.

(Which, for the record, is how I ended up getting a phone call from a friend a few years back wherein she excitedly proclaimed "I just had butt-sex! And it didn't hurt! And I thought of YOU!")

The shift is awesome. I sleep in until 1pm. I have the house to myself for stretching, procrasturbation, etc... I have enough time to primp - catch up on old episodes of The Daily Show/Colbert Report - cook a meal... I don't have to be at work 'til 5pm. The first few hours of the shift fly by, because most of our customers get home between 5 and 8pm. After my lunch break, it starts slowing down for the night. At around midnight, I usually catch my second wind - and the late night sillies kick in. At that point, it's usually slow enough for Ben and I to bullshit on random subjects - like Dr Horrible, Eddie Izzard, The Guild, etc... The rest of the shift kinda drags on, but it's so laid back that I don't really mind.

The pay has potential to be pretty sexy, too. At least, by comparison to what I am used to. We receive performance-based bonuses and commission on a monthly basis. This month's cycle closes in a couple days. If I can keep my stats where they are RIGHT NOW - I will be getting an extra $600 on my mid-august check. If I can maintain similar stats from here on out - I might be able to afford the Vegas wedding, after-all.

It took almost three months of employment to reach this conclusion... But I can say without hesitation - that I am really glad I took this job.

Manda

Coffee Raiders

2010-07-11T12:12:00.001-07:00

Not long after I started hanging out with my amazing Colorado friends, it became perfectly clear that they are all a great bunch of story-tellers. So much so, that I feel like I've known these kids for a long time. The reality of the situation, is that I've been present for less than two years out of the decade-plus period of time that most of these folks have known one-another.

Since I have known them, we have sporadically (though, religiously) met up anywhere from one to three times a week at a 24 hour Perkins Diner on Platte for coffee and stories. Sometimes it will just be two people. Sometimes - a dozen. Cleo will put out a phone call, which will turn into a mass text message, which will turn into a tweet/retweet, which goes up on facebook... And before you know it, we have a miniature flash-mob at Perkins. We jokingly started referring to these flashmobs as "Coffee Raids".

It didn't take me very long after becoming a part of this group to realize that we really ought to write all of these stories down.

They had been discussing it for ages, but no one had actually set the ball rolling. We planned to write a book called No shit, there we were... but we realized it would be too much of a challenge to get a publisher to pick it up, or to come up with the funds to publish it ourselves. It became almost too overwhelming to even start the project.

Then, someone in the group had a stroke of genius. And it wasn't me. We're all great story-tellers. Mondo writes fiction screen-plays for fun. Cleo is a brilliant artist. I write quite well, as long as it's non-fiction.

We are starting a webcomic!

We all will contribute story ideas, shape the arc, and write the scripts. Cleo will draw the artwork. Mondo will write the bulk of the scripts, and run the website.

It will really only cost around $50 to get the site up and running. We can DO that. We've decided to have at least 30 COMPLETED comics up our sleeves before launching the site. Right now, we have one completed, a handful in rough draft status, around 10 with scripts, and quite a few more in the "concept" phase.

It has been decided that the artwork will remain super-simple, so that we can (hopefully) release new strips three times a week.

We each have our own characters. Some of the characters' names aren't set in stone yet, but we have a general idea as to how each of them will be introduced.

The comic will be set primarily at Perkins - but will include a multitude of flashback sequences that will help tell various back-stories.

There is no estimated launch date as of this time, but this is GOING to happen.

I'm super excited. For my fellow webcomic geeks out there, "Coffee Raiders" can best be thematically compared to a hybrid of "Girls With Slingshots" and "Questionable Content". And the vast majority of our panels will be based on real life interactions we've had.

True stories.

Here's a little sneak peek at what we've been working on. This is a rough draft of a strip we have tentatively named "Witch's Teat" The captions have been blanked out, so as to not spoil the story arc.

I know I've got a lot of web-comic geek friends out there, so I'm really hoping that I can count on you folks to spread the word. The more word-of-mouth publicity this project gets, the more likely everyone involved will be to follow through with it.

I'll give more details on the project as it evolves, so stay tuned.

Manda

Zoo Day, and Pseudo-Mommy Musings

2010-07-07T11:22:00.000-07:00

Monday was a paid company holiday at my work. I'm still technically in "nesting", which means that - for the time being - we get all company holidays off with pay. It's pretty bitchin'. At the answering service, there were only 3 company holidays, you had to work 2 of them no matter what, and you got paid time and a half for 4 hour shifts. It was pretty lame. Here, if we are scheduled off for the holiday - we get paid for the day. If we are scheduled to work, you get DOUBLE Time and a half. But I digress.
Since Mondo and I both had the day off - we decided to take the kids to the zoo. One of our good friends' Mom works there, and comped us entry. It's actually a pretty decent sized zoo. Unfortunately, the whole damned layout involves uphill hiking - because it's located on Cheyenne Goddamned Mountain.

It was fun, though - and the 3G cell phone reception was GREAT! I took and uploaded all of these pictures from my phone while we were there.

I gotta say, it's really weird to stop and think that my life wasn't always like this. It just comes so naturally. It's been pretty rough with the kids, lately. Since they are out of school for the summer, we've been having to rely on their mother more and more for daycare. Anyone who has ever dealt with a split custody arrangement knows that the transition period from one house to another is BRUTAL. The first 24 hours, it seems like the only thing that comes out of their mouths is "But MOM lets us..."

I love these kids. Hard. My heart gets all sorts of gooey when they proudly introduce me as their stepmom to friends and strangers. I just really hate that we have to rely so heavily on their bio-mom for daycare. They always come back grumpy, smelly, and/or missing articles of clothing.
It's pretty traumatic for everyone involved.

I really wish, at the very least, that Mondo and I could have schedules that would allow us to avoid leaving the kids with her, outside of her regularly scheduled visitations.
Unfortunately, I will be working 5pm to 2am, and Mondo will be working similar hours. That's total crap. That means basically, we see the kids for a couple hours after they get out of school, before we go to work. They will be long asleep when we get home - and we have to find someone willing to sit at the house from 430pm to midnight for little or no pay.
It's awful.
It truly is an awful scenario.
I'm trying to see about getting a shift swap to morning hours. Truth-be-told, I actually prefer the 5p-2a shift - but I really despise the idea that the kids will be tossed around from sitter to sitter...

When the hell did I become such a grownup?
Manda

Fourth of July in Colorado

2010-07-04T22:07:00.001-07:00

Today was AWESOME. It was the first time I actually got to celebrate the 4th since I moved to Colorado. Technically, it's my third Independence Day since I moved here... The first year, I got lost trying to find the festivities. The second year, I worked. This year, on the other hand, was EPIC.
First off, Mondo and I decided to go to the Colorado Renaissance Festival.

I had more fun than last year. We took part in many of the overpriced festivities.

I tried on a floral wreath, but didn't buy it. I decided instead to get my hair braided. This year, my hair was actually long enough to get a full braided updo. I'm not gonna lie. I look pretty rockin'. I don't actually have a picture of the hairdo, though. Mondo does, but he hasn't uploaded them yet.

I had some of the best Meade of my LIFE. It was SUPER expensive, and SUPER worth it. I even shelled out the $18 for a goblet.

A few hours in, it started raining pretty hard. We thought it would clear up in a few minutes, but it only got worse. When in started HAILING, we decided to bail. On the long trek back to the car, the hail started coming down CRAZY hard. The hail started out the size of peas, and then grew to the size of cherries. I shit you not, they were so heavy - I may have a bruise on my head. When we finally made it to the car, I thought the windshield was going to crack.

After we got home and changed our clothes, we decided to go to Cleo's house, where she was having a barbecue. I didn't take any pictures there, as I was busy stuffing my face with Jason's EPIC grilled flatbread.

When the sun started setting, we drove to Manitou, to find a fireworks show. We met up with Raven and her adorable daughter, Thora, to watch them from the park.

It was a pretty decent show. It was almost as impressive as the thunderstorm that ~~was going on at the same time...~~ is currently raging on.
I discovered that there are two incredibly awesome things about fireworks in the mountains.
1) The booms echo on for several minutes after the fireworks stop.
2) You find yourself saying "Oooh! That was a good one! Oh. Wait. That was actually lightning..."

Afterwards, we stopped off at a bar. I had a glass of Sauv Blanc, and waited for the crowds to dwindle enough to avoid traffic for the drive home.

It was a great day... A hell of an adventure. I missed Crescent City's festivities a lot, but it was still pretty rockin'.

Colorado is pretty Rockin'.

Manda

Why this blog still exists...

2010-07-03T11:28:00.000-07:00

I fully admit that this is a filler post. I feel guilty that I haven't written in A WEEK.

Once upon a time, this blog WAS my internet world. I had a yahoo screen-name, an inbox full of chainmail, and The Windows Of My Soul. There was no Myspace. (Okay, I wiki-d it. Myspace came out to the public the same year I started this blog. But it only got popular a couple years later.) There was no Facebook. (Damn. That came out in 2004, too... But then again, most people didn't hear of it until about 2006 anyways - at which point they set up accounts that they forgot about until some co-worker begged them to join in 2008...)

My point is, once upon a time - this blog was my life. This blog contained all of the intimate gory details of my personal life. This blog contained my hopes, my dreams, my sex stories... Everything. In early 2009, I finally got fed up with people throwing temper tantrums about my explicit honesty in this forum - and started up SoulWindows 2.1. It's the private blog. And the odds are, if you don't have permissions to it - there's a good reason for that. All of the seedy, emotional, perverse insecure, deep dark secrets that I have can be found in the private arena.
Which... Is really most of what I write about anymore, anyways.

I still feel guilty for not posting much over here, though. I've had this blog almost 6 years now, and I've never gone two weeks without a post. I remember, once when I was camping in NorCal with my grandparents - I didn't have cell reception or internet for about a week and a half. When I came back, some of my readers emailed me - expressing concern that I may have died.
Very few of my readers actually read HERE at the blog itself, anymore. Ever since I started importing my posts to Facebook - people didn't have to go out of their way to cyberstalk me anymore!
For those of you who still read Soulwindows at the same URL it's called home for the past half-decade, you may notice that I am fast approaching my 30,000th hit since the great archive caper of 2007. I can't thank you enough for all your continued support and feedback throughout the years. To paraphrase a notion I've seen several places on the interwebs...
To be a writer in this day in age feels like being a horse and buggy manufacturer at the turn of the century. We writers are trying desperately not to sink into the murky pits of irrelevancy, as text-speak and tweets are becoming a standardized medium for communication.
(That, and we tend to be validation whores.)
We aren't necessarily seeking approval. Moreso, it just plain feels good to recognize our kindred spirits. It's comforting to know that there are still people in the internet age who support and appreciate complete sentences.

As such, this blog will remain active. I may not be able to post with the frequency and passion that I maintained in college, but I will keep fighting the good fight.
Love and Kisses,
Manda

HR Fail.

2010-06-25T16:47:00.000-07:00

Today I was sent home from work to change my clothes. I was informed that my knee-length shorts violated the company dress code policy. Bear in mind... When I say "knee-length", I mean that my hemline TOUCHED my kneecaps when standing. These shorts are damned near capris. It was 94 degrees outside at the time. I'd say they were lucky I was wearing THAT much clothing.
To add insult to... insult... The woman who sent me home was wearing a skirt with a hemline AT LEAST an inch and a half above her knees.

That's right. According to Human Resources, mini-skirts are approved attire - while knee-length shorts are unacceptable. What the fuck?

Shit... At least MY warm weather clothes don't pose the threat of accidentally subjecting my coworkers to a gratuitous crotch shot...

I live 6 miles from work. This commute includes several small hilly areas, which are torture to my shitty little car. My car's brakes have been in dire need of replacement since FEBRUARY, and has been overheating with increasing frequency as we've moved into the summer months. In addition to that, the roads are laid out in a completely nonsensical pattern. As such, it takes me almost 20 minutes to get home, as opposed to the 15 that it takes me to get TO work (depending on traffic).

Traffic was shitty on the way home to change. I hit every light, and spent a lot of time idle. It was 92 degrees out then. Even with the heater blaring full blast (which, for the record, is what I imagine hell feels like...) my car BARELY made it into the driveway. If I had turned around and driven back after changing my clothes, there would have been a significant chance that something in my car might have gone besplodey.

Fuuuuuck that.

I am not going to risk costly damage to my sole method of transportation for the sake of appeasing some illogical (not to mention hypocritical) corporate standards.

So I called my supervisors up and informed them that I couldn't make it back. I'm going to get an "occurrence" that will count against my schedule adherence... But I am really not that concerned. Up until today, I am one of the few people who has actually maintained perfect attendance thus far. I even got a freaking certificate praising my attendance habits. So. You know. Fuck it.
Folks offered to come get me and drive me back, but that seemed pretty damned pointless to me. By the time I would have made it back to work, it would be time to take my lunch break. Affecting a coworker's schedule adherence so I could put in 3-4 hours of phone time on a slow day just plain didn't seem worth it to me.

Did I mention, Fuck it?

The good news is, this means that I get an early start on my weekend. Plus, since I had an energy drink this morning, I possess the requisite amount of motivation to do a little housework. I've already done all the dishes in the whole house, and cleaned up all the clutter on the countertops, as well as the kitchen/coffee/end tables.

Feels a hell of a lot more productive than sitting on the phones at work...

Don't get me wrong, I actually like this job. Even my WORST days are about 10x better than my best days at the answering service. Plus I'm getting paid $1.50 more an hour, AND have full benefits. Soon the commission checks will start rolling in, and I just plain can't wait. We get anywhere from $1-10 per sale (depending on how many sales we make, total) - and I've been averaging 3-9 sales per day. It adds up quickly. I figure even if I JUST meet the standard quota of 2 sales each day on the phones, that's still at least $400 extra in my pocket each month.

Right then. Back to the housework.

Manda

Me and the Minibar...

2010-06-19T13:07:00.000-07:00

I've gotten into the habit of consuming alcohol on a semi-regular basis. I had a lot of qualms about alcohol consumption for a while, as a result of the alcoholic who turned my life into a horror film... But I am coming to remember that moderate drinking can, in fact, be quite awesome.

There's this tiny little dive just across the street from my work that has karaoke and $2 Rum & Cokes every Thursday night. Many of my coworkers have gotten into the habit of winding down together there - and I've got to say... We've had us some good times.

The bartender is incredible. She keeps track of your tab from memory, pours strong drinks, and is a total sweetheart to boot. I've never spent more than $20 there in one night, and I always have a blast.

I came to realize that there are different stages of Intoxicated Manna.

Relaxed and Smiley.
Excited to agree... (I can often be found slamming my palm on the table and exclaiming "EXACTLY!")
Eloquent. (I interject advice that I am convinced is thoroughly necessary - and use big words to try and convince people that I'm "not THAT drunk".)
Lovey. (I start hugging people I've really not been that close to in the past, and start telling good friends how much I love them.)
Self-Confident. (I catch a glimpse of myself in a bathroom mirror and start to think... "Yeah... I'd do me...")
Foul-Mouthed. (Somehow managing to get caught up in explicit conversations about various sex acts... Before you know it, I'm talking someone through buttsex "the right way".)
Dizzy and/or Belligerent. ("I am going to stand up now, but I don't think it would last very long..." If tequila or whiskey was involved, I usually start getting angsty and rude... But I'm fine with Rum, Amaretto, Jager or Wine...)
Naked.

I had such a blast Thursday night. I really can't tell you how much I adore my coworkers. I only made it to Stage Six of Intoxicated Manna before last call - which is about as far as I prefer to go in public.

The other Amanda and I performed "The Safety Dance" on karaoke, which Mondo is threatening to put on YouTube. I also performed Alanis Morrisette's "You Oughtta Know" - which is one of my default karaoke songs. Another girl had performed it earlier in the evening, and I felt very strongly that I needed to "show everyone how it's done".

I got a few wide-eyed stares from the coworkers who hadn't yet seen me let loose. I can tend to be pretty shy around people for a long time at first, and so I would imagine that it comes as a massive shock to see me belting at the top of my lungs: "And are you thinking of me when you fuck her?!"
The next day at work I got so many compliments... It became the general consensus amongst my coworkers that everyone felt pretty bad for the girl who sang that song before me.

It's weekend time again... We are now officially on the floor full-time taking calls now, and I haven't quite gotten my groove down - so it is still pretty stressful... You haven't witnessed rage until you've dealt with a Lakers fan in LA during a cable outage when the Lakers/Celtics game is supposed to be on... But on the other hand, I've gotten more customer "kudos" calls (folks requesting to be transferred to my supervisor to tell them I'm awesome) than anyone else in my class. I get a certificate for every documented unsolicited customer compliment. I have four thus far, and we have only been on the floor for a couple weeks. The weird part, is that I haven't even transferred all of the callers who wanted to give compliments to my supervisor... I only transfer them when I know the Sup is there to take the call - or has otherwise told us that it's okay to transfer them to voicemail.

I'm told I have a pretty rockin' phone voice. "Pleasant" is the word most commonly used by customers. I guess that's got to be the root of all the Kudos calls, because I hardly know what the hell I'm doing on the phones half the time. In three more weeks I go onto my actual team - and pretty much get thrown from the proverbial nest. My handle times are crap; my sales are average... But Quality Assurance gives me flying colors, and my completed Customer Satisfaction surveys are at 100% in all areas. So I'm really not going to bitch.

Manda

Year Two

2010-06-17T17:11:00.000-07:00

I recently realized that I am fast approaching the two-year anniversary of the date that I left Crescent City for Colorado.

I can't believe how much has changed since then...

It really is amazing that such a spontaneous last-resort decision has brought SO MUCH goodness into my life.

I would be lying if I said that the first year wasn't a struggle. It was terrifying... I'd lived in a small town my whole life - and I had never even BEEN to Colorado Springs until the day I moved here. I was homesick and lonely for quite some time... I even considered moving back to Crescent City last spring, but I am insanely pleased with myself for sticking it out.

2009 really turned things around for me. I made so many wonderful friends, that I don't think I could ever move back to California. I would miss them WAY too much. Granted, there were a few rough times in there during Mars' retrograde... Financial struggles, a dissintegrated romance, totalling my car... But I made it. I have been dealt a wonderful hand by fate. I keep having these moments where I look around and realize...

I am living the life I have always wanted...

I live in a house with a yard. It isn't in perfect shape, but it's got loads of character - and awesome vibes. I come home every night to a man who thinks I am the sexiest thing in the world. I can kick off my shoes, pour a couple glasses of Riesling - and suddenly everything seems alright. I live with two amazing kids who (of their own volition) introduce me to others as their stepmother. They love me, and I love them. I can't even begin to describe to you how warm and fuzzy it makes me feel that they, without any persuasion from myself or Mondo, refer to me as their "Parent".

It blows my mind that I almost didn't come here. I almost stayed in Crescent City, working 20 hours a week at Jack in the Box.

This is my home. I have found my people. I have found my place.

Life is beautiful.
Manda

Musings on Work and Coworkers

2010-06-10T11:14:00.000-07:00

We are fast approaching the end of our first (and longest) phase of training at work. Nearly eight weeks of training. (At least, they called it "training". To me it seemed a bit more like a clusterfuck horrorshow of incompetence, but hey...)

Seriously. Everything we have learned could have been learned EFFECTIVELY in two weeks, if the training department had it's shit together. They had us doing these bullshit "icebreaker" games and activities for a huge chunk of the first two weeks. Not to mention, all the hours that were wasted in class while we were waiting for our trainer to come back - because she disappeared to god-knows-where. (Seriously, we have been left alone without instruction before for as long as an hour and a half - on multiple occasions.)
Furthermore, the trainer is almost ALWAYS late - and when she got a sinus infection - there was no substitute for us. They didn't know what to do with us. They didn't have a trainer for us... So they threw us out on the phones to take calls we weren't trained for. It was a godawful experience.

So yeah, suffice it to say that I am quite relieved that training is almost over. Today we start four weeks of what is called "nesting". Basically, our training team hits the floor together. We get assigned desks, and take calls with "eagles" around to answer any questions if/when we panic. I'm not gonna lie. I'm pretty stoked to have my own desk. It was pretty fucking lame having to share with someone else who has (apparently) never heard of a coaster. After the four weeks, we separate - and go onto our individual teams scattered across the call center.

I'm not going to lie... I am going to miss my classmates. It's INSANE how tightly we have bonded... Most of us, anyways. There is this huge sense of camaraderie amongst the group. Don't get me wrong, there are a few folks there who come close to fisticuffs on a daily basis. But for the most part... These kids rock my socks.

Last night I went out with a few of them for a couple of drinks. There was Raven, whom I adore. She's actually friends with Cleo and Pike - and was a part of the summer of 99. (For a city of damned near a half-million people, let me tell you: Colorado Springs is a small town...)
The other Amanda was there too. She cracks me the hell up. The shit that comes out of her mouth sometimes... You just want to hug her for it. She's become a common source of hilarity on my twitter-feed. We like to joke that Raven is my "Work Wife" and the other Amanda is her Mistress. "Basically, it's a lesbian workplace gangbang thing going on..." ~ Quoth the other Amanda.
Ben was there. Ben rocks my socks, on account of the fact that he is big on the standup comedy scene (He knows Eddie Izzard. Personally. I jest not.). Anyone who knows me, knows that I am pretty big on randomly quoting standup routine bits at everyone around me for no damned good reason. It's nice to have someone around who actually gets all my ridiculous references. T
anya was also there. I adore her. She's such a fighter. She will not back down whens he knows she is right. Tanya is the reason we are all getting HR approved adjustments to our time cards for the times that training told us to come in early to boot up our computers before clocking in.
Cynthia was there, who is the office sweetheart. She always does something nice for everyone's birthdays. She's always inviting people out - and she's just got that pleasant sort of crazy personality that you can't help but love her for.

It usually takes me a very long time to "click" with people. Especially classmates. I don't think I made a single friend on-campus the whole time I was in college. Unless you count Darius. But really, that was the Blogosphere's fault.

But these guys... I'm going to miss them so hard.

Granted, we will still be in the same building. But we will be scattered all around to different schedules and different teams and different ends of the building...
(Except Ben. Ben and I are going onto the same team. That's gonna be awesome.)

I bitch about this new workplace a lot. But at the end of the day... The pay is good, the benefits are groovy, and the colleagues are awesome. I'll live.

Going Postal

2010-06-05T15:56:00.000-07:00

I am compiling the list of names and addresses for the wedding ceremony's guest list. There are still a few addresses that I am missing.

IF YOU WANT AN INVITE, YOU MUST SEND ONE OF US AN EMAIL.

I can tell you, it's going to be an epic event. I mean... Seriously. Two Geeks getting hitched on Guy Fawkes Day, at ManBearPig's secret lair. You will be entertained.

Please include: Full Name, postal address, and the full names of any guests you may want to bring along.

Love and Kisses... Manna.
(Crossposted at Facebook and Bliss Like This)

I've really been failing at this "keeping you posted" business...

2010-06-01T10:14:00.000-07:00

Maybe I got used to not having interwebs at home. Maybe I am just trying to make the most of the few hours a day that I am at home with Mondo. But for some reason or another, I haven't been able to force myself to sit down and WRITE. It's not that life has been uneventful. Hell, I just had a three day weekend. I haven't had one of those in about a year. It felt nice. Particularly because Monday was a PAID day off. That concept is wholly foreign to me.

I'm still getting the hang of the new job. Some nights I want to go straight home to drink and cry. Others, I come home on an adrenaline rush - completely excited about the possibilities ahead. We're technically still in training for another 4 weeks. After that, we're going to be in transition for ANOTHER 4 weeks before we start working our actual shifts.

A long training period seems a lot more helpful than it really is. Well, I mean, it would seem a lot more helpful if we didn't spend a very large percentage of our classroom time bullshitting - only to be thrown out onto the floor completely unprepared.

I just got a new phone. It's not my first smartphone, but it IS the first time I ever had one with a data plan. God, it's sexy. It's an android phone, and I got it for free through my employee benefits program. It has a few bugs with the microSD, though. Sometimes the phone won't acknowledge that it is there - which is really freaking lame, considering that's where all the ringtones and pictures go. I should send it back in for a warranty claim, but I've grown so attached to the darned thing.

The weekend was groovy. I have to go back today (which I am not exactly looking forward to), but at least I accomplished a lot. I made a brief appearance at Raven's Husband's rock show, I did laundry, I taught myself how to make potato salad from scratch, I went to a barbecue at Windy's house...
I also went down to Old Colorado City (the original state Capitol) for what they call "territory days". Really, it's just like the 4th of July in Crescent City - except you don't know anyone there.

I like Old Colorado City. It's on the edge of Manitou, and it's just FULL of funky shops, restaurants, tattoo parlours and bitchin bars.

On top of all that, there was also Melissa's 9th birthday. I gotta say... I remember turning 9 quite vividly. The fact that I have a pseudo step-kid that age just freaking blows my mind.
The kids have been at their mom's for the past week, so it made me feel all warm and gooey inside to see them again - even for just a couple hours.

Yesterday was another barbecue with Cleo and Jason. It was delightful. Salmon, steak, chicken, mushrooms, onions, pineapple... all grilled and/or smoked. Being out in the sun totally drained me, though...

Mondo and I got two whole days off together this weekend, which was awesome. We haven't had a single day off together since my birthday. It's pretty lame, and our sleep schedules have been suffering as a result. I get home at 11:30pm, and we milk as much out of our few hours together every night as possible. We end up staying up until anywhere between 2 and 4 am, and I am starting to feel lazy for sleeping so late as an end result.

Right then. Time to get off the couch and start getting ready for work.

Manda

Reconnecting to life

2010-05-23T16:40:00.000-07:00

It's positively insane how beautifully things have fallen into place lately.

The new job has proven to be a challenging endeavor, but I remain optimistic that I will do well there. I am still in training, and we have picked up the pace. Last week we took to the floor, and answered our first customer calls. It was insanely stressful - given that we weren't actually trained for the types of calls we received - but the experience has motivated me to knuckle down and learn as much as possible.
It will suck for a while, until I have a better understanding of the system and procedures - but I am getting really excited about the possibilities ahead.

I've managed to bond with a couple of people in my training class. It has come to my attention that Colorado Springs really is the center of the universe. There are all of these weird connections between everyone you meet. Every day I become more and more certain that I am exactly where I need to be.

Wedding planning has taken a bit of a hiatus. Windy has fallen ill, so we haven't had much opportunity to go over things lately. I'm not too worried. I'm not much of a bridezilla. I'm lucky enough to have everything I ever wanted in life and love handed to me. The universe is working in my favor, and I am truly grateful. Stressing out over event details seems a mite petty at this point.

Mondo managed to fix my formerly-defunct laptop, and I am insanely happy about this. I had resigned myself to believe that I would have to save up for and purchase a new one, and he managed to get it working better than ever for just $60. I also FINALLY got the internet hooked back up at the house. We've got a sexy modem that's giving us way better speeds than the ones that the cable company leases out.

Summer is very nearly here, and I can't help but bask in the warmth of everything around me. The wind is quite obnoxious at times, but I'm sure that I wouldn't survive the heat very well without it - so I'll cope.

Life is beautiful.

I just thought I would give you a heads up there.

Catching up and such.

2010-05-13T12:04:00.000-07:00

Not being able to blog at home has had me suffering crazy withdrawals. There's so much going on, and I haven't had time to report back to my faithful readers. (As an aside, I've noticed that my actual blog traffic has gone down substantially since I started importing to facebook - although my reader feedback is at an all-time high...)

Right then. The news.

1) The job-training nonsense is finally moving at a groovy pace. After a couple weeks of seemingly pointless droning, we have actually started learning things. I may actually be getting the hang of this. We don't legitimately start DOING the job until next week, and I'm still quite sure that we are ill-prepared for the genre of work that we are supposed to start off with, but all-told I am considerably more comfortable with the concept than I was this time last week. Apart from a few intra-office schisms, the classmates seem to be pretty darned bitchin' folks. Plus, I've found someone to quote Eddie Izzard back and forth with. Random Izzardisms make any workplace magical.

2) I'm getting married.
TA DA!
I know we were supposed to wait 6 months. I think we have managed to squeeze this one in on a technicality. In fairness, the wedding is tentatively scheduled 7 months from when we first made this "relationship" nonsense official. That counts, right?
We have a date... ish.

Guy Fawkes Day.

Also known as The Fifth of November.

Yes. We are, in fact, that geeky.

Besides, it will be near impossible to forget our anniversary...

"Remember, Remember the Fifth of November...

"

I am pleased to report that our wedding poses no threat to English Parliament - as it would appear they are having enough troubles on their own at present.

We were initially planning to do a small, cheap, by-the-seats-of-our-pants ordeal - but objections from prospective guests arose. As such, Windy has been kind enough to intervene by offering to assist in the cost of securing a larger venue.

We are looking at renting a hall at Cave of The Winds, a touristy spelunking attraction in Manitou Springs. It would have to be a night wedding, as the business does not close to tourists until 5pm. However, there is a great advantage - in that we would be allowed to utilize the facility for both Ceremony and Reception, without time constraints.

Windy and I will take the kids to check out the venue this weekend. If we like it, we're going to put down a deposit.

We truly are manifesting this wedding with a budget of "zero", so formal invites may take a bit of time to conjure.

So. PLEASE:

IF you feel that you can secure vacation time from work or school in early November, AND you are willing/able to make a trip out to Colorado at that time - PLEASE email me your mailing address so that we can consider you for the guest list. If you don't request an invite, you aren't allowed to whine that you weren't considered.

I have started up an official wedding blog, where most of the wedding details will be discussed.

http://mondo-manna.blogspot.com

Bookmark it if you want to stay in the loop, because I don't have much time for responding to direct individual questions between my lack of internet, work schedule, and home life.

(I may sometimes cross-post between here and there, but still - keep an eye on the official wedding blog if you want current information.)

Love and Kisses,
Manda

Hurry Up and Wait

2010-05-06T12:34:00.000-07:00

Training has been... Mindnumbingly dull. It seems as though for every one thing we learn, we waste a half hour doing nothing productive. Yes, we are learning... But SLOOOOWLY. I know that folks learn at different speeds. But I feel like I'm not retaining anything important, because there is no consistent flow of learning. As soon as we learn something interesting, we have to spend a huge stretch of time doing something completely irrelevant - like building model cars with tinker toys, or playing YET ANOTHER "icebreaker" game.

For fuck's sake. We've spent over 60 hours in eachother's presence.

THE ICE IS BROKEN.

I guess I'm just impatient, because I want to get out there and start DOING the job and making the sexy paychecks. BEFORE shift differential and commission, I will be making more money than I did at the answering service. In theory, once I get out on the floor, I could be making BANK. I'm tired of being poor. It's getting better. I am just now coming out of the transition period where I had to pay all my bills earlier than I budgeted for, because my pay cycle changed.

I get my first paycheck from here today. It's just for 4 days. But it's the same size check as I got for a full week of work at the answering service. Unfortunately, direct deposit isn't set up yet, so I have to wait to have it handed to me. I'd kill for it right now. I haven't had a cigarette since 9pm last night. Plus I forgot my lunch. Gum really only gets you so far...

For the record, I still don't have a home internet connection, but I do try to check my email and whatnot before work in the net cafe.

Right then. Back to work.

Disconnected

2010-04-30T12:06:00.000-07:00

I have no internet at home, and it's making me crazy. I aspire to get it up and running as soon as I can - but money will be slow until the paychecks start rolling in from the new job in full force.

I got a partial paycheck from the answering service today, and I will get another partial paycheck from the new job on the 6th. But honestly, those are only going to be enough to keep my credit card minimums paid, food in my belly and gas in my car.

Okay, that's a lie. I set aside a few bucks for my birthday tomorrow. I fully aspire to celebrate this new job/another trip around the sun.

I am about to be Twenty-Four years old. I live in a house (not an apartment) with a man who loves me and two awesome kids. I am working a semi-respectable middle-class job with a semi-respectable wage.

When the fuck did I become a grownup?

Madness, I say.

I know a bunch of you have been checking in on my online presence to see how the new job is going. It's been hard to update without internet. I'm still tweeting from my cell phone, so you can always check HERE ON MY TWITTER FEED if you are that curious.

I'm pretty much going to be in training for a couple months, so I wouldn't be able to tell you how the new job actually is. Training itself has been insanely slow and uneventful. I don't think I even learned a damned thing until yesterday. But hey, I'll take the money. Training is going to be for about 8 weeks, and then another 4 weeks of transition to the floor. Once I actually get OUT on the floor, I will be working 5pm until 2am with Friday and Saturday nights off. It's a weird schedule, but I don't mind. I get a shift differential wage increase for half of the workday, and I'm usually up that late anyways. I get to bid for a new shift sometime in August, and then maybe I can get something that aligns with my sweetie - so our schedules aren't so wonky.

It's kinda groovy working the same place as him. He works in a different department, and it's a big company - but I still swing by to see him on lunchbreaks and whatnot.

In any case, I best be getting offline. I'm on a computer in my work's internet cafe, and I hate blogging around other people.

Love and kisses,
Manda

Postscript: All of you in the Colorado Springs area ought to drop by Jack Quinn's downtown Saturday night (The 1st) for my birthday. It'd be pretty sweet to see you.

The new charts are in

2010-04-25T16:10:00.000-07:00

Big changes are coming.

Nay, big changes have arrived.

Yesterday was my last day at the answering service. I am overwhelmingly proud of myself in that I managed to make it the rest of the week without walking out... It was a particularly hellish week, to say the very least. Believe me when I say that I very much wanted to leave the place and take a bit of a break before embarking on my new career path.

Life with Mondo has been continually awesome. We have been pillowtalking our way through the idea phase of many major life plans. To be perfectly honest, it's been a bit of a challenge for us to not run off and elope. We know that we both want a legit wedding this time, and neither of us can stomach another divorce. Bearing that in mind, we have both grudgingly agreed that we need to wait at least 6 months before actually committing. It's difficult to be patient when you realize that you both want all of the exact same things, right out of the starting gate.

Tomorrow I start at the new job. I would be lying if I said I wasn't scared shitless. I always experience overwhelming anxiety when taking on a new career path. My worst nightmares are the ones wherein I dream of failure. I'll be in orientation tomorrow, and then training for quite a few weeks. Training is nice. It helps with the anxiety. Being thrown in the fire is what stresses me out. "Sink or Swim" training is fine in Food Service, but not in a legitimate career.

In other news, my access to the internet (blogging, social networking, etc...) is about to become relatively limited. My laptop took a nose-dive, and has decided that it will no longer boot Windows. I've never been a huge Windows fan, but it came with the computer. It's the evil I know. Mondo is going to try and see if he can bring the book back to life with Linux. I ran Ubuntu on my last box, so I hold out hope for the computer's salvation. It's a major bummer, losing that extension of myself. There are still computers around the house, mind you. But the internet gets shut off on Thursday - and I won't be able to afford getting it set up again until my new paychecks start rolling in.

I'll still be tweeting from my phone, though. So. You know. If I disappear, I promise I'm not dead. My Twitter-Feed will confirm this.

Love and Kisses,
Manda

I've got spots. I've got stripes, too.

2010-04-21T10:43:00.000-07:00

Last night was the Ani Concert. Words fail. It was THAT epic. I can't begin to explain to you what that woman means to me.

See, I'm from a small conservative cow town. It's slowly gotten better over the years, but tolerance was never exactly a Del Norte Countian family value. Ours was the kind of town where they shipped kids off to special camps if they started consorting with those goddamned faggots.

So, what's a pre-pubescent gal to do when she realizes that she is emotionally (as well as physically) attracted to both boys and girls? She can't exactly waltz up to her evangelical family, and declare herself as sexually undecided. There would be a fight, talk of hellfire and brimstone... Maybe even a good old-fashioned disowning!

Middle school is craptastic enough when you're a chubby girl a year younger than your classmates. For me, it was a time when I was desperately grasping for common threads so I wouldn't be further ostracized by my peers. I pretended to like music that I didn't like. I wore FAR more makeup than any 12 year old girl should be allowed. I developed unhealthy, almost fanatical crushes on male classmates - convincing myself that I had to be straight, because no dyke would ever get this emotional over a boy.

I didn't have words to describe what I was feeling. There wasn't exactly an abundance of positive bisexual female role models around. I sincerely believed that I was a terrible person, and that hellfire awaited me.

I tried to kill myself twice in the eighth grade. Granted, I didn't know what the fuck I was doing. I didn't even come close to a brush with death either time. Sure, I puked a lot - but that was about it. As comical and trite as it may seem in retrospect, at the time I was frighteningly serious. I wanted out. I couldn't cope with the self-loathing, and I was certain that coming out to my friends and family would be a fate far worse than death.

...And then I found Ani. A Righteous Babe. An intelligent, independent woman who forged her own path when she didn't like the one she was offered. She gave my sentiments poetry, and melody, and a voice. I came to the realization that being a complete misfit was a strength, not a weakness.

My Dad and Stepmom weren't exactly hip with my newly inspired state of mind. As Conservative Christians, they found Ani's lyrics and lifestyle to be subversive. I get the sneaking suspicion that they actually believed Ani "turned me" bisexual. Ani's music was consequently banned from the house. This didn't go over very well with me, so I was sent to live with my Mom for the summer. My Mom thought Ani was a great influence. She bought me posters and CD's. I hand-wrote a letter to Righteous Babe Records, and they hand-wrote me a letter back. In the summer of 1999, as an 8th Grade Graduation present, my mom drove us the 6 hours to UC Berkeley so I could see her live in concert. I was down in the pit, squashed nose to hairy-feminist-armpit, squealing my heart out. I got sick on the way home from all the second-hand tobacco and pot smoke, but I still considered it the best night of my adolescent life.

Fast Forward to 2010. I'm at the tail end of Twenty-Three, and her words still resonate within me. Every sentiment I could feel, she put into a song. Eleven years later, her work still manages to assure me that I am not alone in my twisted emotions. Whether I am coping with bleak discontent (Grey), or falling in love (Hell Yeah), or coming to terms with a soul crushing heartbreak (So What?)... She continually provides me solace.

Sheila and I got there insanely early, since we weren't sure what parking and "Will-Call" ticketing would be like. The venue was a small College Auditorium. It was quite a different experience than the amphitheater orchestra pit at Berkeley. We got front row seats.

We could see the spittle and sweat.

We were so close, that we (and by we, I mean SHEILA) managed to accidentally interrupt one of her songs.
It was a new song, a melodic number with a lot of instrumental strumming leading up to the opening lyrics. The audience sat quietly, waiting to hear the Babe's latest stroke of genius. I looked at Sheila excitedly, and she giggle-squeaked. Giggle-Squeaks are common occurrences in the presence of Sheila. Ani immediately burst into laughter and stopped playing. She explained to the audience how the out of context squeak had made her laugh, and she pointed out where the noise originated.

The night was just plain amazing. Aside from the unreleased numbers, I knew every word to every song. She took requests, and we all rose from our seats to dance in front of the stage.
Her closing encore song was "32 Flavors", and she invited the audience to sing along.

Sheila managed to snag a copy of the set list, and we both got our hands on one of her guitar picks. I doubt they were used during the show - but they did come from the stage, and mine was definitely used at some point.

Thank you for coming out to evangelical town, Miss Ani D. Thank you for saving my life.

"I'm no heroine, at least not last time I checked. I'm too easy to roll over, I'm too easy to wreck. I just write about what I should have done. I sing what I wish I could say. And I hope somewhere, some woman hears my music - and it helps her through her day." ~Ani DiFranco, I'm No Heroine

Mission accomplished, Ani.

You bet your black ass.

2010-04-17T18:00:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite contemporary artists, Amanda Palmer, has released a new track. My socks are officially rocked. The lyrics and tone are really speaking to me at this phase in my life, so I thought I would post them here.
For the record, the song is available to download or stream (FREE!) from HERE.

when i was six years old my sister alyson
asked for a stove for her birthday
a miniature one you could actually cook with
and my mom was nice and she bought one

alyson needed a reason to bake something
barged in my room and she grabbed me
she said:
"i made a cake and we're going next door
to sam weinstein's and you're getting married"

the cake was burned
it tasted gross
she made me kiss him
on the mouth

now i am 33
unmarried happily
no plans in life and i'm planning to keep it that way
i do kissing with only one mission
do you like to kiss? then you have my permission

and i have already spent too much time
doing things i didn't want to
so if i just want to make out all the time
you can bet your black ass that i'm going to

when i was nine i was kind of a loser
the kids in my class didn't like me
melanie chow was the meanest of all
and my mom made me go to her party

nobody talked to me i sat there quietly
drawing with crayons on a napkin
a picture of melanie skewered with a pitchfork
her legs getting eaten by lions

the cake was good
i took some home
i had a party
in my room

now i have friends and i'm not such a loser
but i go to bars all alone and i sit there
and order red wine and i write and i like being alone around people
yes that's how i like it

and i've already spent too much time
doing things i didn't want to
so if i wanna sit here and write and drink wine
you can bet your black ass that i'm going to

yes i come here often
sure i'll have another one
yes i come here often
sure i'll have another one
but i don't have to talk to you

when i was 17 i was a blowjob queen
picking up tips from the masters
i was so busy perfecting my art i was clueless to what they were after
now i'm still a blowjob queen (far more selectively)
i don't make love now to make people love me
but i don't mind sharing my gift with the planet
we're all gonna die and a blowjob's fantastic

and

when i was 25 i was a rock star
but it didn't pay too well i had to strip on the side
of the road to get ready for shows and the cars driving by
baby they'd never know
what a bargain they'd gotten
and if i'm forgotten
i'm perfectly happy with all that has happened
and i still get laughed at but it doesn't bother me
i'm just so glad to hear laughter around me

and i've already spent too much time
doing things i didn't want to

so if i want to drink alone dressed like a pirate
or look like a dyke
or wear high heels and lipstick
or hide in a convent
or try to be mayor
or marry a writer
smoke crack and slash tires
make jokes you don't like
or paint ducks and retire

YOU CAN BET YOUR BLACK ASS THAT I'M GOING TO

Check out Amanda Palmer. She's brilliant.

They made a statue of us.

2010-04-15T18:13:00.000-07:00

This has been a pretty exciting week, all told.
For starters, I got the job. Yes, THE job. It's mine. I start April 26th. My last day at the answering service will be next Saturday. Of course, I'm scared shitless about taking on a new job. It's completely irrational for me to panic, because this job will likely be a walk in the park compared to what I've been doing. I'm going to go from working for 500-someodd companies for $10/hr, to working for 1 company making $11/hr plus commission and full benefits. And that's just the starting wage. I'm on my way to financial freedom, and it's gonna be bitchin'.

This falling in love nonsense has been... Perfect. I'm normally such a spaz-case when it comes to relationships. Not this time. There is no emotional roller-coaster. I'm feeling very... Centered. Everything's relaxed and groovy. Every hangup that I had about getting involved with a single dad who happens to be a close friend and my roommate has become completely irrelevant. There's a whole lot of deep contented sighing going on. This guy's as much of a romantic sap as me, so we're taking this pretty seriously. Neither of us believe in dating for dating's sake.
The really rockin' part is, his kids are very much okay with the whole ordeal. I can't even describe to you how insanely gratifying it has been to be a part of an instant family. Yesterday the kids and I made rice crispy treats together while their dad was at work, and it was just... Awesome. Amazing. I keep having all of these little moments wherein I feel like I am finally living the life I wanted... and I feel as though my heart could burst.
It could be said that we are moving too fast, but it just feels right. We're going with the flow.
A gal could get used to this.

One minute there was road beneath us, the next just sky...

2010-04-11T11:41:00.000-07:00

Sooo... Mondo and I are kinda like... Together now.

SURPRISE!

Yeah. It caught me a little off guard too.

The entire concept was so far outside of my idiom, because he was SO DEEP in my friend zone. Over the course of the past month that we've been living together, I have slowly started to realize that BECAUSE he is such a close friend - this thing might actually work...

I'm not gonna lie. It's complicated. For starters, we live together.
(Go figure. My last relationship ended because the gent wasn't willing to cohabitate. This one started after I started living with a gent...)
It's kind of a hip arrangement though. I have my room. He has his. His room just happens to be equipped with a King-Sized bed. Options are nice.

Not to mention, I'm friends with his ex, and he's friends with my ex. (In fact, our breakups took place within 24 hours of one another.)

Oh, yeah. Also, as previously mentioned, he has kids. But honestly, that just falls in the "win" category for me. I love his kids. Poof! Instant Family!
(Yes I know that this is kind of a big deal. I don't take the implications lightly. It's scary, but it's the happy kind of scary.)

I didn't see this one coming. I know that I'm pretty much the only one who didn't see it coming, but still... I can be pretty stubborn.

The fucker won me over, and I am giggling like a goddamned schoolgirl all the time.

What else can I say? Life is absurd...