musings not about my hair.

Monday, as I was driving home from work, I realized that I had somehow moved from bright sunny daytime, to moody foggy dark daytime, all in the course of about 3 blocks.

Looking back in the mirror, I could see the sunshine beaming down upon the earth behind me, bright pools of light.

I looked east to the lake, and realized that I could only see a narrow band of beach, breakers, and a bank of white nothingness.

Above and west of me, tall buildings were engulfed by fog, looking half-consumed, and reminding me of a Stuart Davis song, "...chow down, chow down the buildings..."

Once, someone told me that she lived high enough in a building facing the lake that often times her view was of empty quiet nothingness.

Eerie blank whiteness wielding the primitive powers that makes stories like the original version of "The Fog" stick in your memory.

I was half tempted to write down some sort of epic poem to the strange weather in this city, but the ennui won out, and I instead watched television.

..........

Watching Aninal Planet lately has served to implant the idea that kittens need rescued from bad situations, and places like the pound. They need homes filled with love.

It has also made me more aware of Cricket's behaviors. She's always been strange, but she's gotten so clingy and meow-y lately, I wonder if she's in need of companionship -- someone to burn off her excess energy, wear her out, and keep her from being lonely when I'm not here.

I am stricken with kitten fever.

Not the tiny mewling baby kitten kind, but the gangly litterbox-trained adolescent version.

I want to get Cricket a kitty of her own.

Cricket could lord it over her kitten until it got bigger than she is, and then she could get the well-deserved smackdown that she has earned many times over by then.

But I have concerns as well.

I am afraid that Cricket might hurt the kitty when I am not here.

Or they could create so much collateral damage from fighting that I'd need to pack away anything breakable forever.

Or worse, that she would just hide and skulk around to avoid the kitty, and probably start acting out more, making the sink peeing, the bathtub whizzing, and the front door marking the least of my worries.

Cricket is a strange one -- she has the capacity to get used to things and warm up to them, eventually accepting them. Case in point, she now attacks and sleeps upon the Flokati rug I got at IKEA, where before she avoided it like the plague, scrambling over furniture and making stunningly gymnastic leaps from here to there. And it's a damned big rug.

However, she is also completely capable of carrying a burning hatred that will never be extinguished, deep in her weird little heart. For the first 8 or so months of her life, she was in the same house with Chase the dog, and never once did she accept him. She mostly just ignored him, or gave him the stink eye and a very wide berth. To this day, 3 years later, she still swats and hisses at him.

She still won't accept anyone's touch except those of my family members, and she's truly only affectionate to me and Dad. (I think she pays him attention because he's not really hot on cats, and it's either that she senses a kindred spirit and the sharing of a common bond, or simply the expression of a perverse need to antagonize someone that doesn't like cats, because she is both evil and a cat. And she has to suck up to me or else I might stop feeding her, or possibly introduce her to the hard life of the common alley cat.)

I still want another kitty.

And if N. hadn't had to get back to Chicago so quickly from another pointless management meeting in Wheaton, we just might have stopped off at a PetSmart and picked up a cute black 6-month old kitty that looks just like Cricket except without the random white hairs.

Instead, after dropping N. off at the nail salon, I bought the weasel-bunny a new litter pan.

............

I also want a Yaris.

I don't need one, and other than knowing that they are fairly inexpensive, small, cute, have decent gas mileage, and are made by Toyota, they're completely foreign to me. Ironically, I could get a brand-new, tricked out Yaris now for less than I paid for my gently-used Camry 5 years ago.

almost a trifecta

The other day, I took a Target bag and filled it full of packing materials and old catalogues, with the intention of throwing it away.

As you can imagine, Cricket won't get the hell off of it.

A plastic sack filled with crinkly plastic and crumpled up paper?

The only way it could possibly be better is if it were a Binny's bag inside a Trader Joe's brown paper bag filled with crinkly plastic and crumpled up paper.

muse my hair.

I love my hair short. It is a short, bleach-blonde pixie crop that stays the hell out of my eyes, and takes about 60 seconds to style.

But then I see these pictures, and I decide that I really like how my hair looks at that length.

Oh, and then, I remember that I had to look like this for a while to get to that length.

Which, I have to admit, is kinda scary.

And I'm not sure I'm ready for that kind of committment.

because i'm awesome

Earlier today, some lady called the salon, and immediately addressed me as "Sweetheart."

She sounded like she knew who I was, and I wracked my brain for a name.

I had absolutely no idea who it was, and I felt guilty for not recognizing someone that I know with some familiarity's voice.

I thought and thought, and then quit caring.

She asked if we still had the Mother's Day fragrance GWP, which I did confirm we still had, and then gave her the directions to our store from the Kennedy Expressway.

She also called me sweetheart a couple more times.

I still didn't know who she was, and it wasn't really important enough for me to worry about after I hung up the phone.

Like 5 hours later, she called back, and asked me where there were other stores located in Chicago.

I told her the locations of the other two in Chicago, and she asked me if there was one closer to Norridge.

I told her that there was one in Norridge, and proceeded to tell her exactly where it was, giving very precise and easy to understand directions, even pointing out a couple of stores in the area that would identify the location, in the event that she couldn't see that store's sign from the street.

She thanked me profusely, telling me that she'd talked to around 4 or 5 other stores, and they all wanted to send her to Oakbrook or thereabouts, which is far. She also said that most of the people weren't polite, and that they had acted very put upon when asked for directions.

I apologized for her negative experiences, and she thanked me again, saying that she felt like she should tell someone how great I was.

I laughed, and then she seriously asked me how to go about praising me on the record.

I gave her the number to the Help Desk, told her my name and title, and politely told her thank you, and wished her a good day.

About an hour later, we got an email from Guest Services saying that a woman had called to say what a nice and helpful person I was, that I had gone out of my way to help fully assist her, and that she felt I had singlehandedly turned what was for her a very negative experience dealing with The Company for Whom I Work into a very positive one, and that I deserved a lot of praise.

I printed out the email, and put it in my Work Praise file, which I keep just in case I need some good feedback some time.

Then I told everyone how awesome I was, because I totally am. I may not be the best or the brightest, but I am awesome in every way that I can be awesome.

Big head, you say? Well, not 20 minutes later, a random customer that I had helped a few weeks ago stopped me, thanked me for working with her for so long to find a product that fit her needs, and then shared that she totally LOVED the product I recommended.

I told her that I tried to be helpful every once in a while, and she said that I had been very helpful, and asked for my name.

I thanked her, and wished her a nice day.

I had originally set out to go to the office at the front of the store to submit an order for supplies, so as I walked past the GM to my predetermined destination, I loudly whispered, "Dude, I am still awesome," and then went inside the office.

The customer happened to ring out with the GM at the register right next to the office, so I got to enjoy the woman telling the GM about how great I was, and how I was an asset, and that I was nice and incredibly helpful, and about how I had spent a long time helping her replace a beloved but discontinued volumizer with one she actually liked better, Redken Weightlifter, several weeks earlier.

She raved about the product being fabu for another minute or so, and then went back to praising me.

The whole time I was in the office, with one of the LP Deputies searching for crime to prevent in the store by dividing his time between actual visual observation through the one-way mirror, and watching the monitors with eagle eyes, I kept saying how awesome I am, and even shared the fact that I am HOT in Vegas, which is another story for another time.

Somewhere in the middle of my ego-stroking, the GM shut the door completely (the lady couldn't hear me, but he could sort of make out what I kept saying), and I went back to working on the order.

A little while later, the DM came to pick up some paperwork from our store's office, where I was located, and she proceed to amusedly listen to me talk about how I had been given mad phat props for being so awesome TWICE in one day.

Then she high-fived me.

Because I'm awesome.

that bites.

Okay, as you may recall, I am missing a couple of teeth.

Once upon a time, I had braces.

But before I could get the braces put on, the dentist had to pull the first molars from both sides of my lower jaw -- they were baby teeth, and had no adult teeth below them.

So, thanks to the gaps in my jaw, which I was later informed would cost $1500 each to repair, I have a chunk missing out of my left second molar, and a chip in my right second molar. I also have a badly receded gumline along that area.

In order to protect my teeth from further breakage, and to prevent my gums from disappearing entirely, which they seem currently destined to do, I need to get a crown and an implant.

My cheap-ass insurance is only willing to pay like $750 of the roughly $1750 price, so I am really hoping the dentist's office has a payment plan.

Because pixie needs a new tooth, bitches.

well, that's just swell.

Last night right after I got all comfy and tucked away in bed, I had a sharp stabbing pain directly below the sternum, that radiated into my back below the shoulder blades. It seriously felt like someone had just knifed me.

As I tried to sit up, I started to feel all dizzy and clammy, and thought I might be nauseous, but wasn't entirely sure. I kinda stumble-walked to the bathroom, and hung my head over the toilet, but then decided the bathroom smelled really bad, and I didn't want to be in there.

I climbed back into bed, and tried to find a position that didn't feel like I was dying of something horribly painful, but ended up groaning, "Owwwww-unnnnhhh, that hurts worse," everytime I shifted my weight, which was about 20 times.

I seriously thought about calling Tifling to come and get me because I was dying and clearly needed to go to the hospital, but the phone was really far away from the bed. Plus, I'd have to buzz her into the building, and that would have required standing up clear across the room.

Somehow, I managed to find position that only really hurt, instead of really really really hurting, and passed out.

Today, I still have some pain below the sternum when the flesh is pressed downward, mostly to the right. My back also still hurts, almost in a band across my back. And it kicks Tylenol's sorry ass.

When I got home from work today, I typed in my symptoms and got hits for the following:

Hiatal hernias can cause pain behind the sternum, which can be aching or stabbing. "It sometimes feels like a sharp knife goes in unwarned! That can either be from the diaphragm being too stretched from a hernia, or it can be from a heart condition, since it's in the same vicinity."

Gallbladder issues can create similar symptoms, although generally located to the right of the sternum, in the upper right quadrant.

Aortic dissection, also called aortic aneurysm-dissecting. Symptoms can include sudden, severe, sharp, stabbing, tearing, or ripping chest pain located below the sternum, then radiates under the shoulder blades or to the back, intense anxiety, anguish pallor, rapid pulse, profuse sweating, dry skin/mouth, thirst, nausea and vomiting, dizziness, fainting, excessive yawning, clammy skin.

Okay, I do have a previously diagnosed small hiatal hernia, which could be the culprit, and most likely is.

However, the symptoms described by aortic dissection almost perfectly match everything I experienced last night. And I'm always yawning, seriously. I can't help but yawn. It drives me crazy.

Well, we'll just have to see.

the claws that catch...

God bless Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom.

"...No other family has members as disparate and as weird as the claw family."
Courtesy of Animal Planet:

"Long ago, giant, odd-looking creatures roamed the plains and forests of South America. Larger than elephants, these behemoths wielded foot-long, dagger-like claws with their huge, muscular arms. They lived alongside our distant human ancestors, but less than 10,000 years ago they mysteriously disappeared. It seemed that the "fellowship of the claw" had come to an end. Or had it?

Giant ground sloths belonged to the Xenarthra family, an ancient and bizarre group of mammals that evolved shortly after the dinosaurs went extinct. Xenarthrans continue to roam South America today, and though none are as large as their supersized ancestors, they are truly among the strangest creatures on the planet.

Some have long, tube-like mouths with 2-foot-long tongues. Others have prehensile tails, which they use to grasp thin vines and stems. Some spend nearly their entire lives upside down, while others are coated in thick plates of armor. Together, they form the claw family, each sharing the characteristic of long, sharp claws.

Amazon Claws reveals the truth behind these weird and wonderful animals — anteaters, sloths and armadillos — with an intimacy like you've never seen before."

On what other show would the narrator describe a group of animals as being the most different from, and entirely stranger than any other family of animals?

Well, technically they are the Order Xenarthra (edentates), and are then subdivided into four animal families: Family Bradypodidae (three-toed sloths), Family Megalonychidae (two-toed sloths), Family Myrmecophagidae (anteaters), and Family Dasypodidae (armadillo).

And no, I didn't forget aardvarks. They belong to the Order Tubulidentata, and Family Orycteropodidae.

Of course, in true Wild Kingdom style, the armadillo loses her baby in a fire, and the sloth mother and her child fall into the river after a huge flood, where they are quickly swallowed whole by an enormous anaconda.

rambling stock talk.

I don't really dig spam, but sometimes I love the randomness of the spams I get.

I've been getting a lot of them lately regarding RRBK, De Greko, Inc. & HE-5 Resources, Corp.

And it isn't so much that the messages are interesting.

I am just amused by the randomness of the subject lines...

• plenty
• sprinter
• John Doe
• determined
• modern
• effortless hid

• haphazard arcade
• foil
• sweetly
• quash
• petty
• hypnosis botanical
• convict eaves
• king childbearing
• sheet so that
• frightful
• selling point
• bloodstain matron of honor
• gunshot
• correspondingly
• forefinger preemptive
• taxpayer attentively
• rode
• eccentricity
• boundless
• prosperous
• ensconce uproar
• warehouse
• cheefully
• odd Tuesday
• morale
• waterfront
• bottleneck
• demanding innocently
• anyone mummy
• acting
• elite
• load Protestant
• seasonal
• suitcase grocery store
• Insights Newsletter
• aspire satirical
• racetrack
• self-defeating worry
• extravagantly uncover
• wheat
• noticeably
• stockade
• neatly
• shrinkage
• arraign
• agility
• forge
  
• fitness
• frankfurter hundred
  
• 
  

Not that all of them are so entertaining, but I do have to admit that I particularly enjoy "haphazard arcade," "hypnosis botanical," and "bloodstain matron of honor."

"Forefinger preemptive" is also pretty good.

it absolutely figures.

This morning, N. and I drove to Naperville, for Salon Manager training.

We were there to learn the new interviewing methodology, as handed down by Corporate, which was intended to supplement the recruiting methodology that we'd covered 3 weeks earlier.

Despite the fact that the existing recruiting and interviewing standards are pretty fine as they are. But whatever. Not in charge, have no say. Move on.

N. had appropriated her store's "Staffing Binder," since we now take all applications online and have no need to store paper copies anymore.

And I decided that was a great idea, so I wouldn't have several file folders of whatnot about generalized recruiting, and stuff like specific stylists information. Plus. we were given some handouts that really have no home, but would be great in a binder like that.

As everyone touched base on how recruiting was going, I mentioned that I was concerned because no one I'd directed to apply online had done so. It was suggested that I focus on following up with the stylists that I had already spoken to, and go back through my older application and recruiting files to touch base with people that had applied in the last year or so.

I decided I'd get on that first thing when I went in to work this afternoon, and felt all good and motivated to do the part of my job that I like the least.

Imagine my surprise when I took down the "Staffing Binder" from the shelf of binders, only to discover that the Admin had cleaned out the contents, as per an organizational Corporate directive from the prior week.

I can see throwing out the store applications that were like 6 months old, but to go through and toss over 2 years of applications, contact information, notes about stylists, stylist leads, and the like that belonged to the salon, without asking anyone, boggles my mind.

One of my pay stubs from like 2 years ago was recently discovered behind the filing cabinet, and then immediately put in my in/out box, for criminy's sake.

And of course, not only did the trash get taken to the dumpster this morning, but the dumpster was also emptied by a garbage truck shortly thereafter.

Which leaves me in the position of having to start over from scratch, which I suppose is sort of a good thing.

And I get to tell the DM that I couldn't follow up with anyone, because my files have magically disappeared in a fit of spring cleaning.

It would figure that immediately after I finally g0t off my slack ass and bothered to file all my applications, assessments, leads, etc, after having it all sit around for months in a variety of places, and immediately before I got all motivated to actually use all of that information for the powers of good, it got pitched.

Because that's how my life works.

In other news, I also received a letter today from Capitol One, informing me that because of my excellent credit history with their company, I was eligible for some large, extremely high interest loans they were offering customers.

And me? I hate Capitol One with a passion that burns with the fire of ten thousand suns.