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2001-12-20 / 1:24 p.m. ~Diary Stalking, Christmas at Work, Hockey and Black and Tan Leftovers~ Crazy as it seems, I've soured a bit on the old online diary, or maybe it's just Diaryland, yeah, I think that's it. It doesn't hold the same spot on my list of priorities now. I've lost momentum, like working out, I was pumping up, my muscles were stretching, growing, then I dropped a weight on my foot, or a group of young girls dropped a weight on my foot, and now I don't care as much, but I should, I know I should, this is not about them, it's all about me, always has been. Night before last I spent about an hour copying and pasting all the entries in my old guestbook. I intended to delete them all, but I wanted to keep them too. After deleting a page or two, I decided I wanted to copy the pages from the actual guestbook, to see the dates and times, not just the entries from signmyguestbook.com, the ones with the IP addresses. Then, I realized I could just delete the HTML for the older entries, they're still there, but no one can view them, I don't think. Still, someone with ATT as an ISP keeps visiting the guestbook. Like obsessively visiting, like every hour. This person has it in for me, I'm telling you. This person cannot stop thinking about me, and my words, and this person is not out to flatter me, but to bring me down. Nope, not paranoid, I know what's going on. This is a stalker situation and if I ever unlock my diary this one person will seek it out, seek to destroy me via the internet. Isn't that insane? I'm at work, it's 9:42 a.m., c.t., right now. I'm not exactly hung over, but I was drinking last night. Yesterday we all dressed in red, and it turned out we dressed in black too. Red and black. Which is funny because those are the University of Georgia colors, and it just so happens I went to school there for a bit, so I looked at us and said, Hah, UGA Alumni! But no. We gave our "Secret Santa" gifts, and it was just like everything else, we couldn't agree on how to do it. "Let's do it when we eat", "Let's do it NOW", "Let's wait", "Everyone open hers/his when he/she wants", "Give your gift to your person", "Can't we do it NOW?", "Oh, can't we wait?", yada, and yada, and yada again. We are ridiculous. So, we didn't wait, we did it first thing, sort of, and Lulu was singing Christmas carols, and we had Penelope's CD player cranking and we were laughing and people thought we were crazy. Kukla gave me hockey tickets, and Lulu gave Rasta a beer sampler, a microbrewery sampler pack, very cool (we went shopping together day before yesterday, and did I write that?), and everybody got stuff. I gave Veronica the fancy flavored oil I bought her, in the fancy bottle, with the bay leaves, sun dried tomatoes and garlic floating inside, and the fancy bottle of balsamic vinegar, because she wants to decorate her kitchen "gourmet style", have fancy bottles of ingredients she'll never use sitting on shelves. I told her she could make a killer salad with those two ingredients, if she'd use them, open them, but I don't think she will. We had our office "Christmas Buffet", the only thing the company is giving us, it would appear. It was the same as last year, the managers, four short blond white women, our Manager (M), and the older HR Manager, wore Santa hats, served turkey and gravy, mashed potatoes, green beans, fruit, rolls, from large aluminum containers. Pie slices, cheesecake slices, sweet tea, sodas. Not bad. Bland, filling, tryptophan filled turkey, sleepy food. We ate together, our department, or most of us, and when they asked if we should bless the food, for the first time since I've worked here, thank Allah for me, I said, "I don't bless my food, so it's on an individual basis, it's a 'bless your own' party", and Laverne said, "I have to respect that", and I said, "Yes, you do, thank you". Whoo hoo!!! Kukla had asked me Tuesday if I wanted to go to the game, Thrashers vs. Sharks, and I had said yes, then she bought us tickets and gave them to me for my "Secret Santa" gift. She arrived late, to my place, and I drove us the same route I took Friday, through the beautiful neighborhood with the big houses, the Christmas lights, and we rode the train from the Arts Center station, because Kukla wanted to ride the train. With two people it can be cheaper and more convenient to just drive downtown and park in a lot. It really is more fun to go with someone to a hockey game. To go and get beers, to walk around between periods, to not care a whole lot if you miss some of the game, knowing that your team sucks and they will most likely lose anyway. After the game, once home, watching the late local news, I saw that the Thrashers had won the previous night, beat Boston (the only team we seem to OWN!), in overtime�the sportscaster said, "So, the Thrashers' one game winning streak has come to an end", funny. What a funny guy! I discovered a new beer beverage, the "Black and Tan", not that I'd never heard of it, okay, I didn't "discover" it, I merely discovered that I like it. The bartender pours Bass draught halfway up the cup, then, over the back of a spoon, pours some Guinness draught over the Bass. The Guinness floats on top, and it looks really cool. I used to not care much for stouts, but Guinness is�mmmm�really hard to describe, and mixed with the Bass, well, with every sip I went, "Whoo!", sort of uncontrollably, and Kukla would ask, "You alright?", and I'd slur my words for effect, tell her how really, really good the "Black and Tan" is. And after the second period, I had another. But that period went faster. For some reason. Thrashers did score twice, somehow, once while we were in line to get huge baskets of fries, with skins on, and I poured the garlic seasoning on mine. We scored, I looked up at the TV screen, and shouted to the cashier, "WHOOOOOOOOOO!", and she smiled. I had half a beer left when the game was over, a 4-2 loss. The man at the door said, "No alcohol leaves the building", so I stood and drank it at the door, no chugging, just drinking, and we walked through the park to see all the lights, and to the farther train station, where when the train arrived, we packed ourselves in, like sardines in a tin, and I stood, holding on to nothing, using my legs to balance, and I said to Kukla, "I'm train surfing!", and I felt so competent, so able, like intoxicated people sometimes do. Thrashers suck so bad. I was shouting, "TRY!!!, FASTER, COME ON!!!, KEEP IT IN!!! JUST TAKE IT FROM THEM!!! JEEZ, YOU GUYS!", etc. They are getting paid way too much money to not even try. The Sharks were all over them all night, knocking them down, stealing the puck from them, it was stupid. When our guys had the puck it was like they didn't know what to do with it� "Hey, would ya look at that! I got the puck! I got the puck, I got the puck�d'oh! Now I don't got the puck!". And one of the goals that Rhodes let in was pitiful, just pitiful, he looks down between his legs, "Hey, isn't that the PUCK?", um, yeah, it is. You fucking IDIOT! After it was over, I said, "Next time you and I are lacing up our skates, Kukla! We'll show 'em how it's done", and of course neither of us skates, and neither of us plays hockey, but it always looks easier from the stands, now doesn't it? Oh, today I am tired, I don't know why, I guess from all the excitement yesterday. A little while ago we all took turns using compressed air to blow out our keyboards, but my keys are still "sticky". Our printers are not functioning, but I haven't even started processing my work yet. Tee hee. I've been writing this, and stopping occasionally to answer the phone. It's 10:43 now, guess I'd better accomplish something. Again, I'm not hung over, I'm just really, really relaxed, I feel loopy, kind of punchy, like I'd like to sing Christmas carols, well, I already did that�, but I'd like to keep doing it, or run around outside, or just take a nap. Addendum: Just before I left work for lunch, which is where I am now, lunch, home, lunch�mmmmmm�home�nice�anyway, the Manager (M) was hanging out in our department and she started talking about our "peak" season, coming up in February, and how we can't take time off, only one person can be off at a time, and we can't be sick, but if we are we have to have a doctor's excuse, etc., and I said, "Well, I don't go to doctors, are you saying if I'm sick I have to go to a doctor?", and then I said, "What if you're a Christian Scientist? They don't go to doctors", and Kukla said you had to get a slip from one of "their" doctors, and I said, "No, they see no doctors, they call up 'practitioners' to have them pray for them to get better." , and the Manager (M) was dumbfounded, said they'd deal with it on a personal basis. I am such a SMARTASS! I love it! I couldn't help giggling all the way out the building! Cost of the War in Iraq
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