You're Doing It Wrong

In the lunchroom at the office I found a quiz that had been copied from Newsweek magazine: Are You A Type D? I didn’t read the article and can’t remember the last time I even touched a Newsweek magazine. The fact that the magazine now contains stupid quizzes illustrates its worthlessness better than any words I could come up with.

But that didn’t stop me from taking the quiz.

Apparently there are “social and emotional” problems associated with a Type D personality that can increase your chances of heart disease.

The first question is: I make contact easily when I meet people. You’re supposed to answer False, Less False, Neutral, Less True, True.

Do you even understand the question? What does “make contact” mean? Are they asking me do I connect easily when I meet people? And what’s the definition of “meet”? When you’re in a business or social event and you’re introduced to someone? Or when you need a place to sit on the train?

My answer was False. I’m not a social failure but it usually takes me awhile to warm up to brand new people. I got a whopping 4 points for my answer. I’d like to point out that when I was younger I did suffer considerable heartburn over my uneasiness in social situations but now I hardly think about it. Who cares?

There are 14 questions total. Another example: I often feel inhibited in social interactions. Are we talking about a family get together or a big party where you only know the host? Are there people who don’t feel inhibited at certain social interactions?

So you get my point that the questions are stupid. Half the questions focused on alleged social inadequacies while the other half on negativity. Example: I am often irritated. Well these questions are irritating the hell out of me, I guess that’s a 4. (I actually gave myself a 4+).

On my negativity I got 9 and I needed a 10 to “qualify” as a Type D. But my social inhibition I got 13: Type D, I’m in the club!

The tallest building was the one in Sherman Oaks, I think we were on the 2nd floor of a 5 story building. After an earthquake the building was deemed to be unsafe but the boss made us come to work anyway. The morning of the quake I helped my neighbor sweep glass and tried to get things put back together and the boss called me and wanted to know why I was late. (He also once called me on day #3 of a killer ass flu and complained that I needed to get back to work.)

Before that job moved to the earthquake hazard, our previous building had been severely damaged in a fire of a suspicious nature. He made us come to work then, too. We had to sign a release and then climb stairs through charred walls and breathe burned plastic smell that probably took 10 years off my life.

I was long gone by the time the Northridge quake came along but I understand the building he was in at that time was wrecked as well. You have to wonder if it was him or just an amazing coincidence.

This post wasn’t intended to be about the world’s worst boss, it’s about working in a tall building.

One new thing is elevator culture. We’re on the 18th floor which means that if I get on with a bunch of other people, it takes forever to get to my floor. I know. Nothing to whine about since at least I don’t have to use a ladder or climb a knotted rope to get to the office. But probably for “safety reasons” the stairs aren’t open. (Anyone besides me who sees a hole in this logic, raise your hand.) And sometimes you are the only one in the elevator and you still have to stop at 4, then 5, then 7, then 8, for people who need to go up one floor. WIth a plate of cookies.

But mostly people are polite and hold the elevator for you and let the ladies in and out first and say good morning, or, your lunch smells good.

The other comment was that I’d always imagined it would be quiet up there. You’d be amazed at how much street noise I can hear at my desk. Not just sirens. There’s a document shredding truck that comes once a week that announces its arrival with the hydraulic whine and then thump of the giant bin filled with secret papers that are about to be ground up with loud churning and grinding. In the summer I can hear the kids squealing at the Salmon Street fountain. And one afternoon some guy played “Somewhere over the Rainbow” on the trumpet for hours until I was ready to go find him and offer him $20 to move to the other side of town.

Now that the cool weather is coming in, we’ll see how much cold seeps through those giant windows. If so, maybe I can get a brick to heat in the microwave and then put under my desk by my feet like Laura Ingalls when Almonzo took her home from her teaching job in the sled in the middle of a blizzard.

Lots of leaving early and getting home late including yesterday. Yesterday also included a more than advisable amount of adult beverages which has resulted in today being pretty much a wash. We did get to the farmer’s market and I did 3 loads of laundry and had some good Bob time. But most of the time was spent on the couch with occasional breaks to catch up on reading.

The movie I watched during critical morning couch time was DiG! a documentary about The Brian Jonestown Massacre and The Dandy Warhols. And I’ll add this explanation since the majority of my readership is probably scratching its head at the moment: those are rock bands. I have passing knowledge of the DW and perhaps have heard of BJM but don’t know much about them or their music. I can’t remember where I heard about the documentary but it is riveting.

It’s a well crafted piece of film and the people are either raging creative geniuses or complete train wrecks: you decide. I love the music and the documentary shows a lot about the music industry and what kind of crap musicians go through. Highly recommended.

The photo above is of two piggy banks that Priscilla gave to us a long time ago. Originally they had candy money in them but that’s long gone. We keep them in our laundry room and all the change that goes through the washer is deposited into the banks. FYI – I do not keep change in my pockets, or anywhere else that would result in it going through the wash. This morning I finally had to empty one because they were both too full and I couldn’t even fit the .37¢ from today’s laundry into either of the little plastic bodies.

This morning there was an unfortunate intersection of cranky morning people in our kitchen. We were both in a hurry to make our lunch and get the hell on the road and we picked this moment to discuss what dinner might consist of. I said, “I have GOT to do something with that zucchini,” for about the 10th time since the zucchini was delivered to me from Orleans and Bob muttered something unkind under his breath which set me off.

I used my advance adult communication skills and demonstrated my irritation by stomping around and slamming things.

Later, as I got ready to leave I went to kiss him good bye and he said, “Do you still love me?”

“No,” I said, “You were mean to my zucchini.”

He called me at the office at 10am and we were still laughing.

Orleans Bridge

My, this is not looking good is it?

I mean my blogging. I sit down here enough but I never seem to have much to say, or if I do, I don’t feel like typing it. Perhaps I am edging towards ending all writing unless I’m getting paid for it. But I doubt it.

I’m trying to learn more about Photoshop. Kristl loaned me a huge pile of books at the beginning of summer plus a couple of DVDs. I’m getting ready to return all the stuff and I’ve been though almost everything. Still working on 2 books and a couple of DVDs. I didn’t think I would get much out of sitting in front of the TV watching a Photoshop demo, but I was wrong. I get my notebook out and rewind as needed. I’m also taking a class that starts next week.

Here’s the thing. My eMac has a screwed up wire somewhere and my screen color is completely fubar. This happened for a short time while we were still under warranty but it disappeared and I was happy to avoid having to get it checked out. But now the problem is back. Intermittent but on more than off. I’ve done a little research and it doesn’t look good. And I don’t want to spend any money getting it fixed since this is a cheapo computer to begin with. I don’t know what I’m going to do but the point is, I can’t learn or practice anything having to do with color correction because it all looks cast in blue.

I started watching Veronica Mars this summer. I got into about the last 6 episodes. It totally grew on me and I just watched last year’s season finale which had me SCREAMING at the TV. And guess when the new season premieres? What is my ONLY non-negotiable TV show? Yeah, Lost. Who puts VM on opposite Lost? I think VM is one of those shows that they repeat on the weekends so I hope I can still be in the loop that way.

Also, does anyone understand how the DVR recording works? I pick series recording. I pick FIRST RUN and later when I turn on my TV and check My DVR I have 5 episodes of the Simpsons and 7 episodes of Daily Show – every day. I’m going to have to hire someone to come in part time and delete all the duplicates. Can the TV tell I’ve already taped a certain show and ignore it the next time? That’s the product I want.

Also at the moment I’m reading The Perfect Storm. I never saw the movie and I guess I’m the last person on the planet to read the book. It’s like watching the Titanic. You know how it ends but you can’t help but hope that somehow it will end differently. I’m not big on boats to begin with. Someday I’m going to put up a gallery of photos of me on a boat (distressed face) and Bob has a classic of me jumping off a boat looking like I just won the lottery. But this book has ensured that I will never get on a boat, ever again. Not even that boat ride at Disneyland.

Tomorrow the plan is to do some dahlia maintenance. I’ve purchased new bulbs three years in a row, plus I have some red and yellow ones that Kimberlee gave me in the beginning to get me started. I’ve never taken them out in winter or divided them. I also had zero plan when I put them in the ground. Just used a trowel and found a spot and there they went. I do have a record of what I’ve purchased and I have a vague memory of what I put in what year, so tomorrow I’m going to get out there and label them so that I can identify after the first frost when I dig them up. Then I can divide and share. I’m also going to organize them better and get some of the smaller ones out from under the big giant ones. This is all in theory since I can see myself growing tired of this project about an hour into it.

How much did you pay for gas over the weekend?

The time in my life when I was at my heaviest weight was in college, I can’t remember which year. The top was probably 40-45 lbs. more than I weigh right now. There is a series of photos taken at this time of Erin and me packed up and ready to go back to school. I am stuffed into grey cords and a pink sweater and sport the most hideous Keith Partridge shag haircut you could imagine, as if I’d accepted a challenge to look as unappealing as possible. I have systematically searched out and destroyed these photos without mercy.

I should add that I’m not normally uptight about looking doofy in old pictures. I love the picture of me in the orange plaid floody pants or the gymnastics picture with the goofy hairbraids. But the ultra-chubby photo was taken at a time when I was so filled with self-loathing for myself, I can’t bear to be reminded of it.

I was in Orleans in June and at my Grandma’s looking at old photos and I found one of these pictures. Why would anyone have shared this terrible picture of me? Was it to say: “Hey, she can only improve with age” or “Keep this, we can blackmail her with it later”?

In the moment I left it there thinking it wasn’t mine to take but as soon as I left I wished I’d grabbed it. This past weekend I was back at Grandma’s and I made a beeline for the photo albums, found the photo, pulled it out and tore it to pieces. Then I threw it in the fire.

That person doesn’t exist anymore.

I’ve been meaning to do this forever. Here is a list of blogs I read regularly.

Every weekday starts with checking Gawker.com : “the source for daily Manhattan media news and gossip” and Defamer.com which covers L.A. movie biz news and gossip.

My other daily read is: Dooce who is a ruthlessly honest 30-something woman who writes about motherhood, poop, depression and life in Utah and rarely fails to be HILARIOUS. If nothing else read this item.

Also on the daily list is Indianz.com which consolidates news and government actions in Indian Country and is excellent for keeping us in the loop at the office.

My other two favorite daily reads are: Kottke.org and Boingboing.net. These sites consolidate a variety of fun Internet stuff, odd sites, and also Internet culture and happenings. I never fail to find something cool at either of these sites.

Some other sites checked regularly but not necessarily daily are: Fussy.org another funny Mom and yoga person; belle de jour diary of a London Call girl; Go Fug Yourself a deliciously mean-spirited fashion commentary site; Mobylives.com news and commentary on books and writers.

Finally, I’ll link to 43 folders site which is about being organized and you’d think it would turn me on but instead I find it creepy and terrifying.

That should keep you busy if I’m away for a few days.