I did my civic duty and cast my vote today for Obama. I was kinda pissy because they didn’t have any “I Voted!” stickers. WTF? Being a show-off and all obnoxious about having voted is one of the best parts about voting! Pffft.
This morning I got into the elevator with this young man who asked how my day was, in a very cheery voice. I said, fine, and asked how his was. Then he told me his name was William. Oookay. I said, “Hi, William. I’m Monique.” (All of this happened between the 1st and 3rd floors.) After William exited the elevator I turned to the guy who had gotten in on the 2nd floor (coincidentally the guy who threw his keys at me) and said, “His name is William. He introduced himself to me.” We then proceeded to make fun of poor William. Key-throwing guy’s suggestion was to ask William, the next time I saw him, if he had that report done. LOL Yes, key-throwing guy and I are both doing our part to remain civil. Nothing else has been thrown.
Today I signed into my Match.com account and saw that a pop-up I had never seen before. It said that [the motherfucker] wanted to IM with me. I was like, WTF? and of course, because this involved the motherfucker, I panicked and closed out of Match. LOL Later on I emailed him, curiosity aroused, and basically said, “What was that about?”
Get this: He wanted to talk about hockey! Fuck me. He emailed back, “I was going to say ‘Go Wings!’” OMFG. We e-mailed a few times and I didn’t reply to his last one. Motherfucking bite me, ya know? I was like, come ON, I am not the only person in the world to fucking discuss hockey with!
Of course, everyone I told basically wanted to slap me for even CONSIDERING talking to him, let alone actually doing it. Sodapop and Laci (and maybe even Lucy) all chimed in, and at the office, Chris said, “And what makes you think he isn’t going to be a jerk this time?” to which I maturely replied, “I KNOOOOOOW!” while spinning in my desk chair.
Le sigh.
Sodapop told me I should tell him to leave me the fuck alone. But I can’t. No, I won’t. There’s a difference. I won’t tell him to leave me alone because I don’t want to.
Double le sigh.
People, today is a historic day. On this day, the mayor of Detroit was indicted on eight felony charges. Eight!
Man, I miss Michigan. Shit like this doesn’t happen in Indiana.
93% Barack Obama
92% Chris Dodd
90% John Edwards
90% Hillary Clinton
86% Joe Biden
78% Bill Richardson
76% Mike Gravel
75% Dennis Kucinich
47% Rudy Giuliani
35% John McCain
32% Tom Tancredo
29% Mitt Romney
25% Mike Huckabee
16% Fred Thompson
14% Ron Paul
2008 Presidential Candidate Matching Quiz
Well, y’all will be glad to know I took down the motherfucker in my group project. OMFG I hate this guy. We had an online chat this afternoon … I thought it was for 2 p.m. ET, since we are all on eastern time, but no, he scheduled it for fucking mountain time, since that’s what the school uses … but didn’t bother to tell anyone. So it was 4 p.m. my time. It was me and two other people; we chit chatted for a bit and then got down to bidness. I was the only person who submitted a draft document to work from, and the two people liked my reasoning. About 10-15 minutes in, a-hole joins the discussion.
He was talking all this mumbo jumbo, shit that we don’t have to deal with for 2 weeks. Finally I had enough. I can’t remember know how I started but it was a slow-building attack, and of course it was all done without profanity. The other two people kept typing, “I agree, Monique.” LOL It was glorious, and made me feel better that the other people were irritated with this jerkoff too. I mean, really. He’s probably some frustrated entry-level employee drunk on his own power.
Other than that, I didn’t do much today. I went to the grocery store tonight. Wooooo. Now I poured myself a drink and am watching the presidential debates. It’s a toss-up as to who is the craziest motherfucker. Srsly. It’s no secret I’m a democrat and will stick with my party but OMG, these republicans. It makes me gleeful to see the infighting. Hee hee.
Y’all know how I feel about the importance of being tested. It’s quick, it’s easy and a lot of the time, it’s free. It’s incredibly important for women to be tested. We’re more vulnerable to getting HIV, simply based on biology. And it’s been hammered into my head, over and over again, by gay friends and even the guy who did my last HIV test, that the number of “straight” men who have sex with other men is unbelievable. There’s even a term for it: MSM. Men who have sex with other men. No matter how much I like a guy or how much I trust him, he’s not getting near me without a condom until we’re both tested. Unromantic? You bet. But it’s the only smart thing to do.
Resources:
www.AIDS.gov: a gateway to all Federal domestic information on HIV/AIDS prevention, testing, treatment, research, policies and resources.
www.HIVtest.org: national HIV testing resources. Enter your zip code to find an HIV testing site near you!
www.worldaidsday.org: brochures and information about international events.
I attended a training today that was supposed to run from 8:30 to 3:30. I was back at my desk at 10:45 a.m. Somehow, six hours worth of material was condensed into roughly 90 minutes. It was pretty much a waste of time.
Speaking of, the State of the Union speech is on.
Ba da bum.
What else? First day on Weight Watchers went surprisingly well. I had trouble eating enough food to use up all of my points. After dinner, I was eating fat-free cheesecake pudding with fresh fruit to use up my remaining points and to get my servings of dairy in. In fact, I have so many points, I had to eat two frozen WW entrees for dinner. Thank goodness they are so cheap — $1.33 each — at Wal-Mart. It was worth the trip, despite my deep and abiding dislike of Wal-Mart.
Today I remembered my new year’s resolution — be good to Monique — and decided to be a bit easier on myself when it comes to my life. I like to have everything planned out or at least know how things are going to go. Not surprisingly, that usually doesn’t work out for me. So why spend my time that way? Right now I feel like I’m in a lull — I can’t be go-go-go Monique all of the time.
I read about an interesting new gym today. It was opened by a former prosecutor — oh my God, “Madam Speaker.” I can’t tell you what a thrill hearing those two words gives me. Yay to us Democrats! — who has Parkinson’s disease. Apparently boxing helps with symptoms. My grandmother had Parkinson’s for more than 40 years. Classes are geared towards those who are sick, as well as classes for women. I need to get in touch with my inner badass.
My former co-worker just called me to announce that she had a conversation with Barack Obama. I couldn’t believe it. B and I share the same birthday (although she’s older by 18 years) and we are both die-hard Democrats. B and Barack were on the same plane from Washington to Chicago, where she lives, and she marched right up to him and started campaigning about an issue near and dear to our hearts (work-related). Throughout the story, I kept yelling, “OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!” lol.
Yesterday, more IMs from the ex. This exchange started with him talking about a comedy CD we both used to like and ended with him telling me about his date for our upcoming work party. Oh hell no. Monique ain’t playing these games anymore. We aren’t buddies. He doesn’t like hearing about the gentlemen who have been in my life. These conversations aren’t repairing our relationship or rebuilding the friendship. So I called him this morning and left him a voice mail on his cell saying so. It felt good. I wasn’t shrieky or naggy or whatever, just honest and just emotional enough to make my point. He e-mailed this morning, apologizing, saying he had no “ill intentions.” What does that mean? He doesn’t want me to get sick? 
Anyway I deleted the message and didn’t respond.
Talking to B. tonight made me realize how much I miss her. She’s smart and funny and a big Monique fan. She didn’t get married until she was in her mid-40s, so she understands what it’s like to be single. I’m glad I’ll see her in a few weeks. I do call her my boyfriend jinx, though. One guy ended our relationship 3 days after he and I had dinner with Briget. Another relationship ended the day after I told Briget about him. Either funny coincidences or she practices black magic. Really, I’m not sure.
Edited to add: Someone, I won’t say who, thought I was talking about Osama bin Laden and wondered who the hell I knew that could find bin Laden on a plane at O’Hare. Well, we can’t all be into politics. I guess.
I do love to clap with glee, but it takes a lot to get that sort of spontaneous reaction from me.
But, learning that the Democrats just took control of the Senate, too, led me to not only clap with glee, but bounce up and down on the couch and say “Oooh! Oooh! Oooh!”
Tonight, I attended a class called “Controlling Your Clutter.” I signed up for the class, mind you, but I was not looking forward to it at all, probably because I have a whole lot o’ clutter to control.
Like in my closet.
I have a lovely walk-through closet. Allegedly, I could walk from my bedroom through the closet to my bathroom. Allegedly. I may have done that on the day I moved in, I’m not sure. Certainly not anytime in recent memory. There are boxes in my closet that I’ve never unpacked, and I have lived here for nearly 23 months. There are boxes I took directly from my old house to my new apartment and haven’t touched since. It’s a mess.
And I know what the issue is.
Facing the past, duh. I mean, I have clothes from 10-12 years ago, clothes I haven’t work in 10-12 years. Why? Because — and all the ladies know what I mean here — they are “skinny” clothes. I never had any size 2 glory days, but I do have some 8s. I have not worn a size 8 since, hmmm, 1993, I think. Why do I still have these clothes? The only reason I can think of is to make myself feel bad for no longer wearing a size 8. So into the trash they will go.
What else do I have? Mementos. Stuff I don’t know what to do with, don’t want to get rid of, but it’s taking up sooo much space. Examples: Old journals. High-school newspapers with my brilliant columns (ha, I should post some of that here.). Love letters (actual letters, not e-mails). Happy Meal toys I used to keep in a basket at my first job after college because I was young and irreverent and could get away with that sort of thing. I could probably trash the Happy Meal toys, but the other stuff, not a chance.
I’m an emotional keeper of stuff — I attach sentiments to items, when really, most of what I have is just “stuff.” Does it make me any happier to have the actual, God-awful Coca-Cola bears my ex gave me for our first Valentine’s Day, or would the memory serve me just as well? Most likely. What about the bottle of wine my ex-boyfriend gave me last year for Christmas, a bottle I have been hesitant to open because he was a nondrinker and just liked the label? I could regift it this year. Or use it as vinegar in salad dressing.
In other news, I fully expect all of you — at least those of you who are 18 and older and U.S. citizens — to vote tomorrow. God knows there are like two democrats for me to vote for out of all of the races tomorrow in my county, but I’m still going to vote. If I can admit something, voting gives me a secret thrill. I know, I know, it’s naive, but I still feel like I’m participating in something larger than myself. Then again, I get teary-eyed when I hear the Bill of Rights being read.
* NERD ALERT! NERD ALERT! *
Sigh.
I can’t believe my library had this book. Long live subversive librarians in republican counties.
