Holy Mackerel

I was going to entertain you today with stories of me falling off chairs,,  getting stuck in a bathroom stall in the dark and having my head compared to a pimple. But not today. Today, I'm going to talk about a man. A man who had a great impact on my life, and on many others. Ian was my boss, in charge of making sure everything ran smoothly in our real estate office. He was the reason I went to work there back in 2005. He was the reason I stayed there. He was supportive, and kind, and gentle, and fearless. Ian passed away last Saturday after a four-year battle with cancer.  The entire office, the one I just returned to after a two-year absence, is in shock and a state of utter despair. Because Ian was a man who meant what he said and said what he meant, who always had nothing but wonderful things to say about everything (including how he felt, even when he felt like utter crap), and about everyone he met. Ian and I had more of a relationship than just manager and realto...

Although I have often spoken about feeling about a million years old these past few years, I honestly know what it actually feels like now, and I can also now honestly say that I AM OLD. Now excuse me while I sob into my fifth gin and tonic of the morning. So, I worked at my new library job last week, full days both Thursday and Saturday. The job basically entails a lot of shelving of books, moving of books, and not thinking too much about anything except barcodes, the Dewey Decimal system, and whether 906.1782346879 BLS comes before or after WHO GIVES A CRAP. You can pretty much say the job is a little mind numbing, but only in a good way. Seriously, though, libraries all over the world owe everything to pages (which is what my official title is, which is also a little funny because I'm a page at a library -- get it?). Without us, books and magazines would be strewn pell mell throughout the library, reference books on Floor 1 instead of Floor 3, and (god forbid) mysteries sho...

So, I got another call from Adonis yesterday, telling me his office has blocked my blog so that he can no longer read it while he sits at his desk pretending to work. I feel sorry for you, Adonis. Really, I do. And then I felt kind of proud that they felt it necessary to block my blog. I should probably get an award for that because, in my opinion, this is a HUGE success! Who doesn't want to be blocked by the federal government?! And then Adonis told me I should email him my posts, or type them out in Microsoft Word and email them to him so that he can read them at work instead of doing his job.  I told him I didn't have time for that, and Adonis laughed at me because he knew I had tons of time. But alas, I no longer have the time to even scratch my left buttock crease because, guys, I start my library job today, and I am still doing my biology course, which is a hell of a lot harder than my biology course last year, which is kind of making me freak out a little bit becau...

I thought I'd better post another post lest Adonis call me and spit wrathfully at me again for not posting often enough. Brothers. Is "wrathfully" a word? Not sure. Don't care. So, I'm sitting here, at the dining room table, and writing this instead of studying crap senior biology. Do you blame me? Didn't think so. I'm also scratching just above my right nipple, where one of my heart monitor's electrodes has left a rather nasty allergic reaction, not unlike a really large and ugly hickey. So unfortunate that it's not a hickey. I miss those days. Not that I'd really know what I'm talking about, because I'm pretty much a virgin. And not that hickeys are even itchy and all raised, like a hive might be, so maybe I should have started out by calling it a really huge and nasty hive instead of a hickey, but if I had done that, you probably wouldn't still be reading this right now. Am I right? I'm also trying to not feel guilty for...