Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Six. Six days. Ah ha ha ha ha.


Six days to go. Mr. Boss is dying. He puked for hours this morning and is sleeping on the couch now. I am going to start preemptively consuming optibiotic vitamins in 5 - 4 - 3 - 2 - 1 - and they taste kind of like paprika and garlic.

The main problem with Mr. Boss dying is that he knows what he's doing. I don't. I mean, I do, kind of, but he knows definitely what he's doing. If he is dead, I'll probably die in the next 6 days due to stress.

Yesterday, I was reading Ashley's blog about doing a picture a day, partially so she can grow more comfortable in her own skin. I am far less motivated and I don't actually know where my camera charger is (somewhere in my room) so I can't really commit to the same, yet. I am working on something of my own to grow more comfortable in my skin, though. I am wearing NO MAKEUP. Usually, I go for a natural look anyway, some concealer on the blemishes, some powder to keep down the shine, some mascara and shadow on the brows so I look like I have lashes and brows... If I ever left the house without at least the eyebrows and mascara, I felt freakish. Today though, I am wearing my face and some moisturizer (nobody likes dry skin) and I'm even wearing my glasses. The nice thing is, I still feel pretty. I think that it is all too common for girls/women to have body issues, and I know that I've got my fair share. It is nice that I am starting to feel a little more comfortable with some of my less attractive features. I actually just took a photo with my blackberry, but my laptop won't cooperate with bluetooth, so everyone will have to wait to see the makeup-less me.

Last night when I got off work, I met up with Miss B at the Alaskan. We went and grabbed pizza and then returned. While at the Alaskan, Miss B and I were having a nice time catching up on things and sipping on some Ephemere when I realized that Mr. A was also in the bar. I consciously ignored his presence, whether or not he knew that I was there and put in a great effort to still enjoy the time there. On his way out to smoke a cigarette, he patted my shoulder and gave me a hug. I then unloaded the whole story of the multiple break-up texts and messages and how now he is making grand attempts to make up for being a jerk when we were together by wanting to do all these things right now that I'm over it. We stopped outside while Miss B was chatting with another person and he just stared at me until I paid attention and then invited me to come over, to hang out, to talk, whatever. I told him no, that I would not come over, that I did not think now was the time to talk, and that if he called that night I would not answer. Miss B and I left, she dropped me at home, and I ignored two text messages and a phone call.

And did I mention he even took my coat and insisted on assisting in putting it on? Did I mention that he came to my office and has insisted that he help? That he asked me what it was most important to do and where so that he could help do that? That he wants to talk, that we NEED to talk? And did I also mention that I am totally and utterly uninterested in the reformed Mr. A? That I am completely uninterested in him in any form?

Too little. Too late.

Tomorrow we are having a ralley. A ralley sounds fun. Sounds like it will get people pumped up. Today is Wednesday. GOTV starts Saturday. Election day is less than a week away, 6 days.

I don't even have my halloween costume started. Is that my biggest concern right now? Ha. No. Not at all.

Not when my measure of success is a plurality of votes. Not when I am very much invested in three separate campaigns. Not when the wins or losses will be glorious or devestating beyond what I've known in the past. Not when I may not even get to go out and have fun on Halloween since I'll be preparing for our GOTV effort.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Hey, Mr. President!

So, we had a special conference call this afternoon. President Bill Clinton called! He thanked us for our hard work and urged us to keep working hard until all the numbers are in. Sound advice, Mr. President! Thank you for calling!

That got us pretty pumped up!

In other good news, I went to meet Mr. SR for a drink after work, but he had disappeared! Started drinking too early, I suppose. I had a celebratory drink anyway (GUILTY on all counts!) and then went home. I was then coerced into coming out again to hang out with Mr. CPP, who is doing his best to move back toward the top of my list of friends*.

I went home at bar close and Mr. CPP went home as well, but a couple minutes after we parted ways he gave in and wanted to hang out more. We sat in my living room doing absolutely nothing for an hour. We made fun of each other. He harangued me about my supposed thing with Mr. HS and I taunted him about Shrek. We stubbornly did nothing at all for a solid hour. Then made out. Then he went home and I went to bed. Not that it's a competition, but if it were, I'd say it's me 3, Shrek 1. I won't get into the separate "events" for the not-competition, but at least two should be weighted pretty heavily, including me being chill when Shrek was being a raging bitch.

I like how this post includes the two dominant aspects of my life; my professional life and my shit show personal life. The two really do not belong in the same blog... it's cool. I don't think I'll be running for office ever.


*My friends list AND apparently also the list of people I make out with, which I try to keep limited to one.

Monday, October 27, 2008

OMFG-SO-EXCITED!

Opponent and incumbent has been found guilty on 7 felony counts. I can breathe again. It doesn't mean my job is irrelevant. Sadly, I've still got plenty of work to do. It does mean that things are really looking up for our side though!

There is a mouse in our office. I want it dead. Mr. Boss keeps accusing me of being a hippie and telling me I should love all things, but if death were not far too gory for me to inflict upon a living creature myself, I would totally kill it. Instead, I have the lysol and I fully intend to spray it if it comes near my desk again. I will disinfect it, at the very least.

Speaking of animal encounters, I almost ran right into a bear last week. I was walking home from the office and a couple guys across the street yelled at me to cross the street because there was a bear RIGHT THERE. I crossed and looked past the building I had been passing and saw the bear gnawing on some trash. He wasn't a big bear, but inch for inch and pound for pound that bear has probably got a lot more muscle than I do and definitely a lot more sharp.

It was probably the same downtown bear that Mr. CPP and I saw trotting around the night Mr. L celebrated his leaving town. Talking to Mr. L the other night he told me that he had seen downtown bear that night as well. A bum was taunting the bear in the tree and apparently the bear was swiping. Poor downtown bear.

And speaking of Mr. CPP, since I am so good with segues today, he is bringing some drama to the scene. Saturday night I was hanging out with friends and having a good time. Mr. CPP came to joing me and at bar close we were walking together and headed to the Wharf because there is no other place to get drunk food. While there, we ran into some of Mr. CPP's co-workers and headed back to their apartment in Juneau 4 (I describe things based on voting precinct now). While at the wharf, I had jokingly run off with one of them, Mr. HS, and we frolicked outside for a bit holding hands. I felt like it was pretty obvious that I was simply toying with Mr. CPP, but I later discovered that Mr. HS had interpreted things differently. I was going along with it until Mr. CPP went off to a room to sleep, then a girl who I shall call Shrek went also. Mr. HS was getting a little too touchy-feely, so after thinking long and hard about what I ought to say or do, I blurted out that Mr. CPP and I had something going on, sort of. I then went into the room to talk to him. He was being pouty and stubborn but still playful, so I persisted in my attempts to get him to talk to me. Shrek, meanwhile, built up some rage and then burst out suddenly with some really snarky comment from nowhere. Shrek does not know me, nor does she know my history with Mr. CPP, so this outburst seemed completely unwarranted. I didn't respond and Mr. CPP didn't respond so I decided to leave. Leaving meant walking across the bridge and all the way home at 4:30am.

The next day I mentioned the situation to my roommate, who always has news of the town, which included a little anecdote which might explain just why Shrek was so bitchy. Apparently, Shrek wasn't just annoyed by the noise, apparently Shrek was staking a claim. After talking to Shrek's roommate, I was enlightened further. I learned the background to Shrek's desire to stake a claim on Mr. CPP, learned that some people love the drama, and learned that Shrek thought that I was just being a skank-whore. She thought she was in the right, I had no idea that she had any reason to be bitchy, and I am definitely planning on staying more in the loop on the Juneau grapevine or just staying out of the Juneau drama entirely. I think the first endeavor may be easier.

Friday night was nice though. Miss C and I went to the Rocky Horror party. I was dressed up as Magenta in the space suit. I didn't get any costume recognition, but I still had lots of fun. Mr. GJ was there with a whip and molest-ache, making really outraged comments about the sex-on-the-dance-floor nature of the high schoolers dancing. The dance party was fun, as well as the viewing of the film, though I didn't end up with a kit. I went home afterward.

Lately, I've had some of the old flings/exes try to make some grand re-entry into my life. I have literally been repulsed. I want nothing to do with them. I can barely see what I saw in them in the first place. Mr. A stopped by the office to ask about volunteering. Talk about awkward situations.

The first Stammtisch was kind of a flop. Mr. GJ and I were the only ones there. Mr. M showed up at 1am, a solid 2 hours after Mr. GJ and I had left. There will be another, and it will be better. For sure.

But, regardless of what is going on in terms of the Juneau Drama or failed events or ogres gettin' all up in my business... I am happy today. So so so happy. "Uncle" Ted Stevens has been convicted on all seven felony counts and my life has become a little easier.

Friday, October 24, 2008

Terrible, maybe.


This describes why my love life is stupid.


Oh, and since it is hard to read and I linked to the main page instead of the actual comic shown, here is what it says:

We are terrible for each other, and yes, we are a disaster/
But tell me your heart doesn't race for a hurricane or a burning building./
I'd rather die terrified than live forever.

Thursday, October 23, 2008

The Final Countdown...

Da Da Daaaaah Dahh, dah dah dah dah dah...

11 days left. I can almost count it on my fingers.

Mr. Boss is on the verge of death. He's had a stomach flu for weeks and he has had a terrible headache all day.

The Taku winds and the rain are making life a little less than pleasant. I walk to work and by the time I had arrived I was soaked and my legs were starting to feel a little numb. I hadn't even dried by the time I went to get lunch, so I maintained the damp feeling all day. I'm only just now starting to feel warm and dry except for my feet and the bottoms of my pant legs, but soon it'll be time to brave the weather again to go home.

Today I, as a democrat, was called a communist bastard by someone on the dialer. Good ol' Matsu. I am pretty sure that me calling and asking a question civilly is no reason for name calling.

This week Big Dem C brought us chocolate chip cookies. Big Dem K brought us brownies. Dem N told me that when she is back from a trip, she'll bring in something baked and delicious. If all I eat for the next 11 days is cookies and brownies, I'm going to be horribly obese by election day. Oh, and I can't forget to mention that one of the attractive men from my recent canvassing adventure had given me a cookie. I ran into the two attractive men today, one of whom has signed on to knock doors for the Obama campaign. Good thing we are combining efforts... It is the other one though, who is the new love of my life - according to Miss P, he is an artist.

I am happy to have reverted back to silly crushes now that I don't have a real life. I am wont to return to the real dating scene. Maybe this is just the break I needed.

With so few days left, we spend a lot of our time recruiting volunteers. I am really thankful for the people who volunteer and I become fairly frustrated when people have the attitude that their one vote is all the effort they should put in. Imagine, with just an hour or two of phone calls, you can reach out to 40-50 voters who may have forgotten, who may need help, or who may need just a little push to get to the polls. I think it is hardest since I have dedicated so much time and energy toward this cause and some people have the nerve to tell me it is pointless, that if people are going to vote, they will find a way...

Remember to vote! Vote early! Volunteer! It really does make a difference!

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

A Day in the Life

I shall describe to you in great detail a day in the life, not so atypical, of a field organizer.

7:30am - Alarm goes off. Snooze button hit immediately.
7:40am - Alarm again. Snooze button again.
7:50am - Alarm yet again. Snooze again.
...
8:23am - Finally rolling out of bed, contemplating if there is time for a shower, considering a hat.
8:54am - Finally making it out of the house with not quite enough time to walk to work.
9:01am - Officially late, oh, ouch, and I just slipped and fell on my ass. Stupid shoes.
9:04am - Arrive at the office, unlock door because Mr. Boss is likely puking from stupid flu.
9:10am - Turn on computer to check e-mail, read dailies, and update facebook. And blog...
9:30am - Conference call where people talk too much about pointless things.
10:00am - Start dreading dialer.
10:30am - Dialer. Through 12:30pm. Open MS Paint.
12:30pm - Get off dialer. Breathe sigh of relief. Load list for vol calls. Call.
2:00pm - Go get something for lunch really fast. Eat at office. Grow concerned for heart health.
3:00pm - Welcome Teen Girl Squad. Find something for them to do. Block out giggling.
3:30pm - Keep calling even though nobody has been home all day.
4:00pm - Dialer again. Somehow we are always calling the angriest republicans.
4:05pm - Bye, Teen Girl Squad.
4:15pm - Dialer boring again, no new wall posts, webcomics all read.
4:30pm - MS Paint again.
6:00pm - Start to feel hungry. No choice but to keep calling. Long for outside world.
6:30pm - Vol calls again. Even our supporters don't want to talk to us.
7:30pm - Dialer again. Even angrier republicans.
8:42pm - Republicans starting to get really angry. Death threats.
9:02pm - Mr. Boss finally admits that it is 9:00pm and allows us to get off dialer.
9:05pm - Start tallying this and that and filling out google excel docs like mad.
9:30pm - Another conference call. Numbers. Numbers. Numbers.
9:48pm - Trying to get out of office. Man calls to complain about mystery mailer.
10:06pm - Googling directions to man's house to go see mystery mailer.
10:08pm - Hopping into sweet Taurus to drive very far away.
10:28pm - Driving through the valley.
10:36pm - Following google directions, we find ourselves miles out on a dark road.
10:42pm - Notice spotlights, fear for lives, turn back.
10:48pm - Ignoring google directions, turn on correct road. Still dark and scary.
10:54pm - Mr. Boss walks to mystery man's house to see mystery mailer, I wait in car.
10:56pm - Mr. Boss makes it out alive, so I don't have to call police.
11:38pm - Start watching Forgetting Sarah Marshall instead of going to bed.
1:21am - Finally get to bed, so I can do mostly the same thing again.

The Taku winds are back! That isn't exactly exciting. I hear people die. Okay, there is one story I've heard of people dying. One story of one person dying. Apparently, back in the 70's, a hanging sign from the overhang that covers the bulk of downtown sidewalks blew off its chains and hit some woman, killing her. I doubt there was even decapitation, which would make the story more exciting. Generally, the winds don't kill but they always make scary noises, blow really hard, and along with the rain cause me to be constantly wet to some degree. I got soaked walking to work this morning, but by the time I had gone to get some lunch, I still hadn't dried. My jeans were still damp.

Less than two weeks. Oh man. I don't even know whether to be happy or panicked. Maybe both.

Monday, October 20, 2008

When the Lights Go Down in the City

Last night was Miss L's last night in town. Right about now she is on a plane to Seattle, then San Diego, then Portland, then Peru. She's off to see the world, and I am still here, in her hometown.

I met up with her at the bowling alley, didn't play a game because it was toward the end anyway. We chatted some, then ended up hanging out and talking about life afterward. Yesterday was the day for serious conversations about life.

I watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer last night - the original movie. I think I could watch pee-wee die a zillion times and still laugh. That was my first time seeing it. Just getting prepped for the inevitable nerd-time that Miss J and I will have. She told me that she'd like me to watch ALL of Buffy, all of Angel and probably any other Joss Whedon series. Once I get my life back I'll have ended up devoting it to something else.

Speaking of nerd time, I will be hosting a Stammtisch! Samstag um neun Uhr oder neun Uhr dreizig, Bergmann Bar.

Today while at work, the power went out. Not just our office, most of downtown suffered through a major power outage. Street lights were out and everything. Oh no! We were in the dark and the phones were dead. Suddenly, the Field Director calls and wants to know why I'm not on the dialer. It is then requested that I use a cell phone. There I am sitting in the dark with a cell phone, continuing voter contact. Awesome.

Word on the street is Monday Night Raw is back at the Alaskan. With AstronoMAR, Smack, and Good gone, I am unsure who is going to be taking on the event, but I look forward to the Monday night pastime.

Sunday, October 19, 2008

I am a valuable person.

So, it has been brought to my attention recently that I am a valuable person. Not that I ever doubted that I had some value, but lately, it is very apparent.

Reason number one that it is apparent: I think that when a person wants to go to great lengths in an attempt to regain my affection, even if I will probably stand my ground, it shows that I am worth a bit.

Reason number two is that I have become an invaluable (so valuable I am invaluable!) asset to a certain future film project for my BFF Miss P. Miss P and I haven't had the chance to hang out as much as we'd like since I started on the campaign, but today we had a bit of time to talk. We discussed her plans for the next couple years, what would make her happy, what would be most fulfilling, and what would be deemed the greatest success, etc. It turns out that Miss P will be producing and directing a film. Thanks to my support and my grounded-ness, I get to be the production manager. Basically, I get to monitor aspects of the project and make some executive decisions. I'm like Miss P's right-hand. I feel pretty special.

The film should be fantastic. I have high hopes. I'll also be working on some publicity for the film, so expect to hear about it soon.

More comics today! I think my comics page got more hits in a single day (its first day) than this baby does in a week. That's fine though, I've always exceled more in art than I have in... life.

Saturday, October 18, 2008

It's been a couple decades...

Last night was 80's night hosted by the fashionable and sassy Miss B and Miss C. The music was hot, the 80's inspired fashion was hip, and the place was hoppin'. Well, mostly.

Miss A was dressed as one of the girls from the Addicted to Love video! There was teased hair! Bright colors! 80's themed shots!

Then there were the fishermen. Now, don't get me wrong, I've got nothing against fishermen. I've got nothing against rugged men and facial hair. I was, however, horribly offended by the smell. Imagine 5-10 rugged and hairy men (and a woman or two) who had probably not seen a shower in - oh - a couple of decades. When Cyndi Lauper was pumping out hits, these fisher-people, likely in their twenties, last showered. Maybe I'm exaggerating slightly. Point is, I had to leave my favorite bar because the smell of unwashed pits was overwhelming. I tipped Miss B and Miss C extra well for my share with a note referencing the toleration of natural odors.

The highlight of the night was, perhaps, the most outstanding rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody EVER PERFORMED by someone other than Freddy Mercury. A number of people, all friends of mine, generally included in the Rendez-crew, often included in this literary gem of a blog, were piled onto the stage with two mics and a whole lot of soul. We sang, we laughed, we cried, or at least we acted as though we were. It was very fun and quite the crowd pleaser.

The stakes for the election just got higher. My R friend Mr. E has come up with a wager. If my candidate(s) lose, I owe him three drinks. 2 for the main candidate, 1 for the other. If my candidate(s) win, he owes me three drinks. Same quantitative values. It could also end up something like... one of mine and one of his, depending on which one, somebody owes the other one drink. Cross your fingers, or if you are registered in Alaska, vote my way. But don't do it for me, do it for Alaska and for America.

Oh, and to make things more dramatic in man-land (the imaginary realm of my social life, starting now), Mr. A made an appearance. He had sent me a message apologizing for his sucking at being whatever it is he thought he was supposed to be, which I was ignoring at the time because I don't really know the best way to deal with the situation. He mentioned he sent it and sort of stood around me for a bit, undoubtedly hoping for a bit of attention. I was strong though, I stuck with the girlfriends and wished him well on his trip. No way am I going to remain entangled in this web of crappiness. Mr. CN made an appearance, recalling aloud that he owes me a phone call, promising the phone call for tonight (phone's not ringing...).

The thing that made my day today was that Mr. JA (formerly some other weird letters) invited me to hang out. The unfortunate thing is that I am going to have to pass. But again, the nice thing is that we have next Friday night for GERMAN NERD TIME!

Also good about today, Miss C and I went to breakfast at Costa's. That was important so I could tolerate 6 hours of canvassing straight. Yeah!

Oh, and canvassing today = awesome.

I was knocking on this door that said "Eingang" which is the german word for entrance. I decided to whip out the deutsch skills and started chatting up this guy in German. Turns out he is a big German nerd and though our political ideologies are not that similar, we had this in common. He literally gave me an 11 disc German "Immersion" set and asked that I call him if we have German nerd stuff. Cool guy. I bet he'll even vote for my candidate now because someone of such great character (me) says he is a great guy (which he is). The awesomeness does not stop there! Also amazing: Hot guys who bake cookies. Yes, that is right, lady-readers, in Juneau Alaska there exist two men in their mid-twenties who baked cookies and gave me one. Also, they are voting for my candidates. Was it love? Maybe.

And now I am going to go do laundry, try to clean up my room, and otherwise waste my Alaska Day Saturday night.

AWESOME.

Friday, October 17, 2008

Worth mentioning:

I'm packin' lit.

Last night I was discussing literature and other possibly pretentious things as well as our own awesomeness with my friend Mr. EM. Mid literary discussion, I opened my purse to reveal that I was carrying a pocket sized edition of Siddhartha. We gushed over our excellent taste in literature, offered up some suggestions of intellectual and deep literature and agreed to do a book swap.

Which is awesome because I friggin' hate libraries for some strange reason.

My offering? The Unbearable Lightness of Being, by Milan Kundera.

Now, if you, fair reader, were to offer to lend a friend a book, what would that book be?

Also, it is apparent that I am currently reading Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse, as I don't generally tote around lit for the weight, what are you reading?

Alaska Daze #1

For those of you following my comics as compulsively as I've been posting them, you may already know the story...

Saturday is Alaska Day. It is observed on Friday this year (today). That meant that the celebrating began last night.

Miss D organized a night of Alaska trivia and Alaskan prizes at the 'Vous, while the Alaskan stayed chill with the usual open mic. Though unintentional, I was wearing xtra-tuffs that day and as I decided going home before going out was pointless (in hindsight, I wish I had made the trip) I actually went to a bar wearing xtra-tuffs. Whoa.

I won an oversized Alaska mug during the first round of trivia and then brought it to the Alaskan with me to see the formerly missing Miss A. Miss A's BF Mr. C (this does get absurd, doesn't it?) ordered me a drink IN THE GIANT MUG! Tanqueray and Tonic in a giant mug? Oh heeeeyyyy! I also had the pleasure of sampling some 80's themed shots for the 80's party at the AK tonight. I recommend "Time after Time" but warn people that "Psycho Killer" may be very aptly named. The happy couple left fairly early, unfortunately, but not before Mr. C declared that he was going to hook me up with one of his friends who has a plane. Whether or not there is any hope for this is beyond me, but I will give Mr. C credit for being the one who introduced me to Mr. MM. I was baited into a political discussion by a supposed democrat who is supposedly leaning toward McCain but was saved by Mr. C and the arrival of Mr. Boss. Mr. Boss had been involved in a power hour with the other regionals, so he was already pretty drunk, but we sipped on drinks (another giant G&T!) and discussed Sex and the City (which was on the television).

When regular bar close hit, Mr. Boss and I headed across the street to the 'Vous again, where I was pulled into a round of Rock-Paper-Scissors in true 'vous style. I lost to the former love of a former roommate but had my giant mug of gin and tonic to console me. I also had lovely bartenders and friends around. Miss AB and I made breakfast plans toward the end of the night before Mr. Boss and I walked up the hill toward our respective homes. We stopped at the office briefly, but as I didn't need anything there (at least I didn't suspect I needed anything at this point) I sat on the stoop and waited.


Rendez-crew + a creeper or two - Winter 07-08

Once I made it back to my apartment and Mr. Boss had undoubtedly made it back to his sooner, I discovered that my keys were not in my purse. I discovered this standing, but just to be sure, I sat down on the steps in our covered entry and removed every item from my purse and felt in the corners and in every pocket. No keys. I did have everything else, so I texted my roommate with an apologetic plea to let me in. No response. Then I texted Mr. Boss with a plea to open the office so I could get my keys (which I had remembered leaving on my desk after a coffee break with Miss B). No response. Then I sent a text message to someone living near enough that I felt I had the strength to reach. No response. Then I thought about homeless people sleeping in entries and figured I could do the same until Miss J left for work. I curled up with my purse, my giant Alaska mug, and used my arm to cushion/protect my head from the filthy carpet. After what felt like only a few moments, my arm was obnoxiously sore. I repositioned myself a couple times, felt sorry for myself a bit, compared myself to people living hungry on the streets, and then I knocked on the door. I knocked again. Miss J, sleepy-faced and disoriented opened the door and frowned - undoubtedly upset to have been awoken less than two hours before her alarm to let in a drunk me.

I crawled into bed to sleep for four and a half hours before throwing on jeans, a Kodiak Coat Co. fleece, and my Xtra-tuffs (in honor of Alaska Day(s)) and met Miss AB at the Sandpiper for some delicious breakfast.

The amount of time spent in the entry: 1 hour.
The amount of pity for myself: Way too much.
The validity of a comparison to a street person: Not at all.

But speaking of my hour of homelessness:

I have become incredibly bitter toward the homeless* lately. Case in point: While walking to the Piper I took the stairs from Distin to the alley that connects with Willoughby. Usually this traipse down the grated steps smells like pot, but today the smell of - feces - a very strong odor of feces. When I neared the end of the steps, I saw it. A pile of POOP. Of course the ravens, who are drawn to anything fetid or festering, were surrounding it. And of course, the rain, which is constantly falling from the sky anywhere from a mist to a torrential downpour has caused a stream of waste to trail down the slanted road. Dis. Gus. Ting.

I remember my freshman year of college clearly. I took an anthropology class with this handsome visiting professor who did his dissertation on homelessness. We had a whole segment on homelessness in the class, we read a book called Shelter Blues and we visited Dignity Village in Portland. He lived on the streets for three or six months to research his dissertation and he made homeless people seem less creepy and more human.

More recently though, I remember tending bar during the daytime when homeless people, drunk on hooch, would stagger into the bar, reaking of alcohol and filth, spending pan-handled cash on alcohol instead of food or lodging, dozing off in corners, filling the bathrooms with stench, leaving without flushing the toilet, drinking in stalls, wretching in the toilets, and being generally horrifying examples of the lowest lows of human life. I remember getting cat calls on the streets, being begged for money, and asked for cigarettes. I remember the man who pushes his wheelchair up the hill when he is done pan-handling. I remember the piss and the shit and the filth and the disrespect and the alcoholism and the wretchedness.

*When I think about it, I can still differentiate between the drunken street people and the people who have some amount of self respect but no means. It is just hard sometimes to not get bitter and upset when the most glaringly obvious specimens are the most awful.

So, knowing that I am not some poor, disenfranchised, truly down and out person, I cannot really compare my hour of dozing in an entry with homelessness. Were I really left with no other options I could have booked a hotel with my debit card or called some other friends. I'm not down and out. I am a diva. An absent-minded diva with a penchant for strong spirits.

Thursday, October 16, 2008

My life =

My life =

Working - though today and yesterday and tomorrow we have had and will have a most amazing volunteer who we will hopefully HIRE because she is great.

Pretty much nothing but volunteer calls today and we scheduled so so so many GOTV shifts I was overwhelmed with counting.

What else have I been doing? MS FUCKING PAINT!

I have been compulsively uploading stupid MS Paint comics to my creative outlet site. They are kind of crappy in a really wonderful sort of way. They are sort of a little scandalous at times, sometimes the humor is dry, but if you know me and love me or if you bother to read this blog, you would probably find them amusing.

Melissa's Comics!

Tomorrow is Alaska day. Hip hip hooray. I am meeting up with Miss A, who has been gone for a while. We can stay out late because of Alaska Day!

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

And, exhale...

I was waiting for every day since Mr. AT's departure to be the worst day of my life. 21 worst days in a row would be pretty ugly, but I was prepared. I have only 19 left to go, and so far none of the past days have been the worst of my life. If you want to hear about worst days, please check out the other contestants for that hangover story contest. Things are actually going pretty well with the campaign, despite a few bizarre moments here and there... We're getting in some solid volunteers, including the teen girl squad and a girl who apparated (too HP?) today, who is about my age who we are dying to recruit as our HD4 organizer.

Some office antics lately include more form our darling intern M who continues to throw out some comments from the gutter. Apparently everyone in our office aside from me watches The Office (US version) and while Intern M was drilling screws into some yard signs (it sounds dirty already!) he shouted, "It won't go in!" and after a pause quipped, "That's what she said!"

Apparently, our office has more than organizers, interns and volunteers though. Word on the street (or from Mr. Boss' mouth) is that we have a mouse. Upon hearing about this unwelcome guest, I expressed my distaste for the little bugger. My dislike of mice goes back to my days living at home with the 'rents, when every winter the mice would find a way into the home so they could keep warm and incidentally nibble holes in our food sacks, poop all over the place, and scurry out of mysterious places to scare people. The other day, Mr. Boss pointed toward our tree (is it a Ficus?) and alerted me to a mouse, which caused me to jump straight up and ask "Where?" in a voice a little too high pitched to bely calmness. That's when Mr. Boss started laughing at me. Oh, jolly times in the headquarters.

Maybe part of what is making my days not the worst days ever (aside from Mr. Boss being more than tolerable) is that I have had some mid-day distractions. Yesterday I went to Miss E and Mr. J's house to meet my "niece." As the oldest child in my family, I am happy to have no real nieces or nephews, but as one of my closest friends here in Juneau has just given birth to a most beautiful baby girl, I requested to be an honorary aunt. I hadn't seen Miss E since I had last dropped by her office, but I don't know if I even got in a hug before I had cuddled up to Baby O for some tender baby holding and bottle feeding. I caught up with mom and dad while doting on Baby O and when I noticed my uterus aflutter, I had to remind myself that it is to behave and not have any babies for a long, long time. When Miss E asked me if Baby O made me want one, I told her that I was glad she had one so I could just borrow her.

Today my distraction was an adventure in the Valley. I had an appointment to go get finger printed! First, I had to find the car. Mr. Boss told me it was on Gold up the hill. Problem with Juneau is, everywhere is a hill. I walked up 2nd to discover that I was at the low point and that either direction I turned was up-hill. Of course I chose the wrong hill to traverse at first. Once the car and I were in shape, I discovered I had to get gas. Getting gas for me is, still, a bit of an effort. Having spent most of my driving years in Oregon (where there are attendants who pump it for you) I sometimes have some troubles. This time was no different, since I didn't pay any mind to the location of the gas cap and had the car the wrong way with the hose being too short. I had already swiped my card and was panicking when I went to turn around and another car was driving... Luckily, I was able to turn the car without having someone fuel up at my expense - what would I have done? Best not to even think about how I would have reacted...

The finger printing itself was uneventful, I have all my fingers, they all have swirls on them, and I am apparently cooperative enough to get it all done the first time around. After that, I went to the Glacier Cafe (this time, not on the verge of puking) and saw a friend and got some lunch, half of which was meant to be delivered to the roommate. While making a turn out of the parking lot, I spilled 3/4 of my coffee and then went to deliver the lunch to my roommate who, luckily, works at another Heritage location. Coffee situation: FIXED.

Then, it is work as usual, but with good luck recruiting volunteers for GOTV. I had a couple interesting calls tonight which included profanities and some horrifying disclosures. If you clicked on the link I provided when mentioning 'bizarre moments' above, you have discovered a mild exaggeration of one of tonight's calls as well as my own web-comic site*. The only other call worth mentioning was one that started with a very sincere "fuck you" and included profanity regarding my candidate and some verbal back-patting for the opposite team. When the guy apologized for scaring me (how could I not proceed with a timid voice?) I accepted, but afterward muttered to myself that I was still scared because his choices were horrifying. Mr. Boss pointed out today that I don't tend to internalize my reactions to calls - I can frequently be heard commenting to myself or nobody at all after a call. In my defense, I tend to be witty...

*The exaggeration in the comic is the removal of the ear. I still have both. The rest - pretty much word for word.

Monday, October 13, 2008

Good morning, or morning, anyway...

Remember when I mentioned breaking up with someone via text message? Well, the thing is, I'm apparently very bad at remaining broken up and so we may have gotten together to "talk" or "work things out" at some point. But when that happened, I started to have the same second thoughts I had had the first time around, which might make them third or fourth thoughts, but who's counting?

Basically, as I said, I ran into him on Friday night and it did not improve my life any. When I managed to check my myspace the following day (after returning to the office) I discovered a message. A drunk almost 4am myspace message. Apparently there is a new phone and a lack of phone number and I disappeared. I'm sometimes pretty good at disappearing. When I need to be.

In any case, I mulled it over, this message, and this relationship, and this current situation of me being way to busy to waste my time on a stupid, unhealthy relationship. I then wrote back. This time, friends, I reiterated the broken-off-ness of the relationship via the even classier myspace message. If you weren't patting me on the back last time for sheer classlessness, now is the time. Go on.

So, another day done, yesterday, and I went to visit Miss L before her departure to South America. We spent a few hours talking about life and love and such nonsense. Then I went to go pick up Miss J from the bar, only to discover that, since it is a holiday weekend, the bars were open later. I ended up leaving Miss J behind with Miss M and Miss R, wishing I had any desire to be out so I could actually spend some time with my friends.

I also read some from a book titled Bandbox. I started it a few weeks ago after having exhausted most other options lying around my house, but for the World is Flat and some text books nabbed from the upstairs neighbors' shambles when I was feeling particularly like doing a bit of self improvement. Then I tried to pretend like it was only 12:30 when I was going to sleep instead of 2:00am, hoping the sleep I would have would feel like more.

This morning the plan was to go to breakfast with Mr. AT, but when I talked to him at 7am, he was hoping for a bit more time to rest, having stayed up until 3am. At 8am, I had the brilliant idea to order breakfast for pickup and meet Mr. AT at the office and pick up a lovely Sandpiper breakfast on the way. He offered to pick it up while he was refilling the tank of the car, but I hadn't paid yet, so I told him we'd get it on the way to the airport. Of course, when we arrive at the lot for the Sandpiper, who else do I see heading straight for the restaurant than Mr. A? The recipient of a myspace re-break-up the day before. I lagged behind for a moment, then stealthily remained behind a beam instead of in the open. I then glanced over to see if he would notice, and of course he is seated at the table closest to the door, and of course he is sitting on the outside so he is sitting there within throwing distance (and I'll mention that I do throw like a girl). I turn away and send off my card to pay for the breakfast and Mr. AT comes in. So now, Mr. AT and I are chatting and laughing and waiting for my card to come back so we can head out, and I can't help but keep glancing over. It isn't my intention to ignore him, but I don't want to date him or sleep with him or get called in the middle of the night by him. So, he did not turn his head toward me, which prompted me to believe that my classy message was... well... very effective? Horrible? Heartless? Tactless?

Anyway, dropped Mr. AT at the airport, where we ate our breakfast and hugged goodbye. Now it is just me and Mr. Boss, who is at a meeting. Me, hanging out in the office, by myself and bored. Me checking my myspace sent messages and discovering that the break-up message was never read (thanks myspace, for making stalking so easy AND thorough) and deciding that I wasn't the big asshole after all. Me sitting alone and answering every election poll that comes through on our campaign lines. Me giving in and working in T-3 minutes.

Can you really just call a pollster "Election Research?" Really? What happens if I google that number... or call it? Hmmmm.

Sunday, October 12, 2008

The worst hangover story:

We all hear that binge drinking is terrible... terrible for your liver, your life, your brain cells, etc. But we still do it. Even when I swear I won't do it, it happens. Ben has been encouraging us to participate in this particular event and I was trying to figure out which of my past hangover stories might be the worst, because there are many.

There have been many, both in my college years and in the year and a half since my college years. Some worse than others. Every time it happens, I tell myself, "NEVER AGAIN," but for some reason there is always another night with alcohol flowing freely (well, not free - rather expensively - but you know what I mean), when bad decisions come easily. Another drink? Why certainly!?! Dancing? Of course! Go home with you? Ummm. Okay? Uh oh.

So, Friday night had potential. Once I got off I had plans made with Miss C, so I ate my leftover stir-fry from lunch with Miss J and primped a bit before meeting Miss C and heading down to the bars. We went to the Alaskan where a band was playing, and we started off with doubles, because I'm classy like that. Ran into tons of people I knew, which was nice. I ended up running around talking to everyone, focusing my attention on no one person, and as usual leaving people to their own devices, and similarly leaving myself to my own devices.

The problem that arose was that, well, my love life is a mess, and every time I go out, I am reminded. The former fling, Mr. CG is apparently head over heels for a girl, wants to move cross country with her, and apparently wants to marry her. Mr. A was out, which poses a problem because he wants to be with me sometimes even now that the last thing I need is to be with him, prompting me to disappear frequently. The best friend of Mr. HG was out and we ended up dancing some and maybe I was mistaken, but I am pretty sure there was at least one attempt at a kiss, which is super awkward since, well, his best friend and I have had a thing off and on and off and on since... almost a full year ago.

For some reason, this all got to me, it made me drink more in an attempt to make things less awkward? In an attempt to get rid of what was going on? For some reason I consumed enough drinks in little enough time that I sort of... blacked out. Maybe I made it until bar close. Maybe I didn't. Maybe I didn't make it to my actual home until... morning. Maybe I had the worst hangover of my life...

So, about that horrible hangover. I don't have days off. Ever. I will have my next day off the day after the election. Hopefully. So, anyway, this means that when I do stupid things and ought to sleep off the effects and nurse a bottle of Smart Water or maybe that Urban Detox stuff, what I actually have to do is take my tired, dehydrated, aching self to work. And on weekends, work is canvassing. So, I tried to sleep for a half hour, then try to dress myself as comfortably as possible in as little time as possible, try to make my hair look like it wasn't matted and dirty. Basically, I looked like a real Alaskan. I looked like a real Alaskan who was miserable and late for work.

So, after a half hour of listening to the boss complain about me showing up late, smelling gasoline from Mr. AT's adventure to refuel the car, and trying to fight the aching and the nausea, we went to the valley to canvass. First we went and got food. McDonald's. I ate half of the food I got and then felt just as nauseated and decided to leave the rest for later. We went to the parking lot of the Glacier cafe where I insisted on staying in the car, leaning over an empty McDonald's bag, considering wretching. Then we drove further to where we would be canvassing. I insisted, once again, on staying in the car. I curled up in the back seat of the Taurus, with the bag, just in case, and I tried to sleep it off. That's right, kids.... I curled up in the back seat of the car in a residential neighborhood and I slept. Then I puked. Then I slept some more. I eventually felt a little better, so I did get some actual work done, but that is not the way to spend a hangover.

After work I went home and freshened up before meeting up with my roommate and friend Mr. M at his new apartment. We watched an episode of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia before everyone headed out to the bars. The plan was to not even set foot in a bar, especially since I had no makeup on, damp hair, and was wearing Ugg knock-offs and an Alaskan Brewing Co. sweatshirt. Somehow though, I was coerced. Miss J was out, Mr. M, Miss M, Miss S, Miss V, Miss B, Miss D, and all of these wonderful people I don't see enough. I grabbed a cup of water and joined the crowd, full of fun. Somehow, despite my insistence on not drinking and going home as soon as possible, I only managed to get one out of the two covered. Somehow I ended up with three free kamikazes... If only I had chosen Saturday instead of Friday. Miss J and I left at 10:00pm and went home to watch some nerdy TV on DVD before going to bed at a reasonable hour.

Today I was back to normal, but I had a slightly amusing run in with someone I had met on Friday night while fetching myself a bagel for breakfast this morning. Ohhhhh heeeeeyyyyy, stranger. How are you doing this fine morning? No further comment need be made. Canvassing today was a piece of cake and when I get off work I am driving Miss J's car home, hanging out with Miss L before she flees the country, and then picking up Miss J before going to bed.

Tomorrow, Mr. AT is leaving for Ketchikan. We are celebrating his sending off with some breakfast at the Sandpiper.

Then, tomorrow is day one of me and the boss. The boss and me. Nobody else. Oh. Dear. God. I don't even believe in a god, but I am invoking the protection of anything or anyone that may keep me sane.




Don't be a Jonze

Friday, October 10, 2008

Deal Breakers...

In a domino reaction of taking a cue from other bloggers, I am at least third in a chain of blogging about deal breakers.

I think about this a lot, and sometimes I am more serious about it than other times. There are things that would be nice, then there are things that are absolutely required. Then there are those things that, well, you believe you can instill in a person (but does that ever work?).

One thing I always thought would be a deal breaker: Having a kid. I've always thought the idea of dating someone with a kid was completely out of the question... I mean, people who have kids have BAGGAGE, right? People who have kids and are in my dating pool are... ummm... irresponsible? Scandalous? Not smart enough to use contraception? But really, that was just me being pretty ignorant, selfish, and scared. Several months ago I was getting a ride with an acquaintance who has since become a closer friend. When I got in the back, I noticed a car-seat and assumed he had borrowed his mom's car and I jokingly asked, "Jeez, how many kids do you have?" "One." Oh. I didn't cease friendship and eventually the possibility of more than friendship existed in my mind. I was uneasy about the concept of dating someone with a child, but for a number of reasons, I don't have the same fears I did before and this is no longer a deal-breaker. It certainly makes it harder for me to warm up to a fellow, but a great person is a great person.

Ambition. I think I limit myself greatly with this one. I've got great ambition, but can I really expect to find someone to date who has as much ambition as me? By those standards, he'd be on his way out!

Intelligence and a grasp of the english language (and some sexy foreign language might be nice too). Ever heard of intellectual sexiness? Someone who is smart and articulate and interesting can trump even the dreamiest looking idiot or "Joe Six-pack" in my mind. That being said, I still think that looks are important, but I once dropped a guy for replacing S's with Z's in some exchanged text messages. I can forgive the text message abbreviations, since each text costs money, but replacing an S with a Z is just... unforgivable. Also annoying; terrible spelling, atrocious grammar, and gross mispronunciation of words. Ick.

I really don't know if there is much else, but I will point out that I am fond of the following things on or about men, strange or not:

Beards
Foreign languages
Partner dancing (not skanky stuff)
Musicality
Higher Education
Glasses
Opinions
Passion (for a cause)

That last one has been known to cause trouble though. As attractive as I think it is, I have found myself taking a far second place to some of these causes. Not that I should come first, since I am not really at a point in my life at which serious dating is up there on my list... But it's hard to be the last thing on a guy's mind. Thanks to this campaign though, I may be just as guilty of such neglect.

Now I'm all riled up...

So, the happy news is that our candidate was in town, we had a town hall meeting, and it was a success! People showed up and mingled, then asked questions and heard the candidate's responses, and people who had come in undecided left as supporters! Yay!

Plus, I am definitely in my element planning events - I made sure things got set up properly and then was put on mingling duty to start and then table duty so our intern could sit in. I never get to actually sit in on events and listen. I am always doing something. Boo.

We started the day at 10 but ended up working all day until 12:30am. Our intern was helping me make GOTV charts and discovered a fortune from a past fortune cookie on my desk. It read, "You will soon receive an unusual gift." I went out to lunch with Miss J in the afternoon. We went to Zen. I got another fortune. It read, "Be prepared to receive something special in a large package." Our darling intern added, "In BED!" and then I had to tell him to get his mind out of the gutter because I don't want high school boys talking about me receiving something special in a large package in bed...

We've discovered now that Fridays are no longer the glorious days they once were. We now have to make calls and treat Fridays like any other day. Nooooo!

25 days never felt so long.

Oh, and I'm riled up because of men who have strong opinions about restricting women's rights. It's all well and fine for men to say they are staunchly pro-life, or that abortion should be restricted to only very few circumstances, or that it is no big deal if pharmacists can refuse to fill prescriptions for birth control, or if birth control is in no way covered by health insurance... a man doesn't have a uterus or ovaries, a man doesn't have to bear a child for 9 months in the womb, a man doesn't have to give birth, a man doesn't have to buy and take birth control pills... How about you worry about YOUR body and let women worry about ours. When you have the same problems, then you can come up with answers that affect women. Fuck you, oppressive bastards. And... calm. Sorry, but I have to vent.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

A morning off, well spent.

Today I woke up to a cold, cold room. My alarm went off and I hit the snooze button a time or two, as usual. After a few snooze button hits, I looked at the alarm clock which I don't use for an alarm (thankfully) and discovered it was off. I also discovered that the lamp would not turn on and that the room was cold and the space heater was not on. Must have messed something up by having them all plugged in to the one working and conveniently located outlet in my room. Crap.

The panic mode of a "power outage" which included only one outlet was good for me because it got me out of bed on time. I then got showered, primped, and dressed in time to make it to work on time.

When Mr. Boss walked in, he told me, "You didn't have to come in until 11 today." Uhhhh. What? I don't remember hearing this. "Can I have it in writing next time?"

Anyway, I determined that I should then leave the office until 11am, not wasting one of these rare opportunities to have time to myself. Upon stating that I'd be leaving, Mr. Boss asked what I'd do with the 1.75 hours anyway, to which I responded, "Uhhhhh, just fuckin' hang out." I didn't have to be in the office. That is glorious.

I went to Heritage and drank coffee while browsing the CCW. Then I walked up to the City Museum to check out the Bra-Dazzle gallery, to discover I had 15 minutes before its opening. I sat in the crisp fall morning with Siddhartha in my red wool coat. When the museum opened I was delighted to find that October is FREE thanks to donations by the friends of the museum (I may have to hit up the State Museum too if it is also free. I checked out the bra inspired art (raising money for Team Survivor, for women fighting or recovering or who have survived breast cancer) and the rest of the museum as well. I am feeling somewhat motivated to read a book on Alaska's history.

It was a lovely morning, plus I discovered that there will be a Rocky Horror Picture Show event! That was the start of the greatest morning in a while. The rest of the day from 11am on has been pretty normal, but the great morning makes that seem less mundane.

Tomorrow, Candidate is in town! That means that we will be doing less boring things. I also like Candidate, so it's always nice to get to chat with him for a few minutes when he gets the chance. We are doing some events and I am spending the morning making signs. The lame thing is that we have to clean up the office tonight, which means that I won't get out until way late. I also need to do some laundry and clean my own room, which I haven't done... Argh. No time!

*** Edit***

Afternoon sucks. Sometimes I am at peace with being a poor college grad on the verge of poverty, other times I friggin' wish I had studied something useful and that I didn't care that what I do is meaningful. I would probably also be better off if I didn't love booze and fashion so much. I would also be better off if I never ever opened a single credit card. Thanks Mom and Dad for dropping me financially my Sophomore year of college. I'm thanking you every day when I think about my shit situation.

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

My liver leaps for joy!

Well, dear reader(s), I survived the bender. I had considered spending a calm Sunday night in the presence of drunk friends, but alas, that never works out. Not when, before I even step inside the Alaskan for the farewell party, I am offered a drink at the 'Vous. Not when the night is quiet but the company is good and the bell is ringing. Not when the liquor is a flowin' and the friends are merry. No, my friends, one must join in the festivities and let her liver take one for the team.

I ended the night speaking German with Mr. M and then nearly giving myself a concussion trying to enter the cab shared by the roommates and assorted others. Once we arrived back home, Mr. H passed out on the couch while Miss J and I watched part of a television show on DVD and tried to squelch out the creeping inevitability of hangovers with bad-for-you foods.

I awoke the next morning with no hangover, shockingly. Snooze button abuse, however, did have me waking up at the time I was meant to be at work (a story we've all heard before) and showing up late due to the necessity of a shower.

Monday proved to be, gloriously, a day of good fortune. Sure we were on phones calling people for 8 hours. Sure I wished I had been out in the sunshine. I did get to have some lunch and, when I left, I did get to go straight home to curl up with a trashy magazine in my bed which has two blankets now and is aided in its warming properties by the hand-me-down space heater which I prayed would not set fire to the clothing strewn about the room. I did make a nice wide berth for the heater, but goodness knows there might be some flammable polyester lurking somewhere in that mess.

Tonight tends to be girls' night, but I think I might... Clean my room. That's right, I thought about my daily schedule and determined the following:

If I spend an hour getting ready and 13 at work, that gives me 10 hours left in the day. If I plan to sleep 8 of that (which is really just not going to happen) I have two free hours. In those two free hours I could catch up on my reading (Siddhartha and Dr. Zhivago are waiting) or I could try to sort through the piles of clothing and shoes and try to make my room even mildly livable. I mean, somewhere under those piles is a loveseat. Somewhere in that room I have the elusive other patent leather mary-jane wedge... Somewhere in that room a small child could be missing, and who am I to deny this potential small child a tearful reunion with the tormented parents?

For reference - there has never been a case of me stowing away small children. Ever. Once my youngest sister did try to hide in my laundry bag to go to college with me, but thankfully she is a little heavier and bonier than my clothing and she didn't end up in the trunk.

Sunday, October 5, 2008

I think I'm on a bender...

Courtesy of urbandictionary.com:

Bender 180 up, 64 down love ithate it

A term commonly used to describe a period of time (preferably more than 24 hours) spent escaping life's harsh realities (marriage, work etc) Consumption of alcohol and drugs is a must. Anything goes.

Last night while I was walking to the bars with Miss L, we ran into Miss B and Mr. J. When asked what I was up to, I responded that I was on night 3 of 4 of a bender.

Ouch.

Between the real weekend and going away parties, my usual weekend has been extended to 4 days. This isn't entirely uncommon, but I've been drinking a bit more than I should. I recognize the reason, but for some reason that isn't enough to make me behave.

The problem is, everyone is gone and/or leaving. During the weekends, my place is at the bars, it sounds terrible, but that's where the excitement is, that's where my friends are, that's where the live music is. Now, I knew it was coming... I knew that the weekend would come when the crowds would be slim and the entertainment would be few and far between. I still know that eventually it will get ridiculously cold so the snot freezes in my nose and that my stumble from the bars will be more treacherous with a layer of ice on everything. Though I know these things in advance, it doesn't prepare me for the disappointment. It doesn't prepare me to deal with the urge to drink far more than I should.

Chances are, I can pull it together. Chances are, next weekend, I'll be much better behaved and I'll manage to avoid blacking out, terrible hangovers, and an empty wallet. This weekend though, the first weekend of the off season, it was rough.

Today I showed up to work an hour late. Pretty sure I was still drunk. In an attempt to avoid contact with Mr. A, who was at the Alaskan, I went back to the 'Vous where I ended up tagging along with Miss D, Mr. E, and Mr. JB to the Viking of all places. I gave Miss D my sunglasses since they suited her so well and I found my good ones, so she insisted on buying me drinks. I danced. I drank. I stumbled home and passed out with my clothes still on.

As bad as that sounds, I would like to point out the things I did not do last night:

I did not puke.
I did not fall.
I did not make out with someone.
I did not give out my number.
I did not drunk dial.
I did not take someone home.
I did not sleep with the ex.
I did not do any illicit drugs.
I did not spend obscene amounts of money.
I did not pee in public.
I did not lose anything.
I did not steal any purses.
I did not make a horrible ass of myself.
I did not wake up in a strange place.
I did not eat Pel'meni or döner kebab.
I did not go to an after party.
I did not skip work entirely.
I did not have any mysterious scrapes or bruises.

Therefore, the bender has been a relative success.

Tonight is Mr. H's going away party at the Alaskan. I'm going to run home and try to look less like I rolled out of bed, through on a fleece, and then worked all day. Then I am going to night 4 of 4 of the bender to see if I can turn down the inevitable offers of bushmills shots and kamikazes.

Cheers.

Saturday, October 4, 2008

All is quiet on the Southeastern Front

The ever thicker cloud cover seems to stifle the sounds of the city.

But alas, it is the lack of city sounds that is to blame.

Autumn is here in every way.

Sean Tracey sat in a chair on the stage at the Alaskan with his guitar and harmonica singing to the smallest Friday night crowd I've seen in months. Since last winter, I suppose.

The Rendezvous, in comparison, was lively and full.

The need for girl talk was upon me, I don't get much since I spend the majority of my time hanging out with the boys. I called Miss B and we met for dinner at the Hangar. I then told her about the situation with Mr. CPP and the prospect of seeing Mr. MM again and how I was already turning it into a stressful situation. Post-dinner we went out to the quiet bars, eventually putting me at the Imperial (uh oh) for some dancing.

On top of the self inflicted stress over the CPP/MM situation, an acquaintance of mine decided he wanted to be flirtatious and while free drinks are always appreciated, the concept of juggling another boy with a heart bound to be broken was not appealing. I ended up stepping away with Miss P to chat a little, have a couple drinks, and to be introduced via pointing to a certain baby-mama. Once the lights turned on, sending the remaining party people out into the crisp night, I found myself smoking a bummed cigarette while chatting with more acquaintances, getting phone numbers of people I may or may not ever call, and then trying to steal some time with Mr. CPP.

Today I was contemplating our "relationship" and realized that it will likely cause me nothing but grief, since our interactions are such that we seem to get great pleasure out of mocking eachother, being contrary, and denying the other whatever it is they want. To give a real life example, we behave like those elementary school kids who pull hair to show affection. Therefore, I got a hesitant hug and got denied the requested kiss on the cheek.

Today was a canvassing day, we were out in the valley. I canvassed a guy who was disgruntled, to put it lightly. He basically harangued me for a sold 10 minutes about my beliefs and divulged far more information than I ever needed to know about his miserable existence. My gchat status, which is a big deal in the campaign office, reads as follows: (Melissa Leeanne): is sorry you have no marketable skills with which to obtain and keep a job, but she would like to remind you that it is the democrats who likely had the idea for those unemployment checks you are living on. Also, it's not pronounced Bidden - you ignorant prick.

At the next house with contacts, I chatted with a very friendly fellow Dem who, upon hearing that I had just been yelled at, pointed to the disgruntled man's home and asked, "was it that guy?"

Mr. A and I went to the Thai Kitchen for dinner and then Squire's for a beer. I stared at the harbor and enjoyed the progressing sunset. Earlier in the day I had sat at a pond filled with ducks, calm but for barely-there ripples in the reflection of the trees. I got a lot of enjoyment out of the quiet and the calm.

Tonight I will brave the bars again, hoping for a more lively crowd. The goal this time around is to avoid the fit of depression that struck last fall.

I've been in Juneau 16 months now. I already know the cycle. I already know the ins and outs of the love-hate relationship with the city.

Friday, October 3, 2008

Kittens? The Apocalypse? Huh?

I dreamed of kittens in a post-apocalyptic campaign office - Things in red netting like fruit or baby-bel cheeses. Once hesitant, lapping up my spilled milk, a kitten wraps itself around my foot.

I also recall being concerned that these adorable kittens were dangerous (rabid?) and my attempts to keep them at a distance only drew them nearer. My greatest concern, though, was showing up to work in the same clothes as the day before.

At least I don't wear tie-dye. Ahem.

Meanwhile, in real life:

Yesterday was Mr. L's last full day and night in town. After attending an interact meeting with Mr. E and completing an application to substitute teach (during my "interim) I met Mr. L for sushi. We had a great time, which makes me realize how much I'll miss him.

After work I met up with him and Mr. CPP at the Alaskan. Mr. L was here and there and disappearing constantly, but Mr. CPP and I stuck together through the night. It was a silly night full of drinks and teasing and whatnot. I also ran into Miss A's man. We discussed her being back in Tahoe for a couple weeks and he mentioned that Mr. MM would be back in town. I wasn't sure how I felt though. I tried not to think about it at the time.

Mr. CPP and I had our döner kebab and went up to my place to commence our movie date that didn't happen earlier in the week. It's not very efficient to begin a movie after bar close. It's already late and we both had to wake up early today for work. I've seen the start of Dead Alive twice now in the past week.

So, now I contemplate the return of the mountain man. Now Mr. MM has become more a fond memory than a man. He has shed his flaws, the memories of the times when things were less than good are less immediate than those memories of things being good. With his return, however long it may be, leaves me curious as to whether It's still there. At the same time, I was sad at the last parting and another would only be inevitable. Plus, how unattached am I at this very moment anyway? I'm certainly not attached, but am I unattached? Am I free to commence with any fling that strikes my fancy or do I owe a certain amount of respect to what may be beginning? Does he even plan to give me a call or is my memory only a faint one after these few months? Do kittens in post-apocalyptic worlds shed any light on this? Not to me. I suppose I just wait and see what materializes. While it is in my nature (as a woman?) to over-analyze - I'm going to try to live in the moment rather than getting lost in this tangle of old emotions and what-ifs.

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Angry Republicans Say the Darndest Things

So, as a democrat calling republicans, you can imagine that every once in a while, conversations don't go smoothly.

Best examples to date:

A 5 minute tirade about how despicable democrats are, answers to all my questions, and a comment about how he wouldn't give a democrat the time of day. My response? Thank you for your time, sir. I really appreciate it.

A pro-lifer, apparently ignoring the fact that Ted Stevens is pro-choice, called me, among other things, a liberal baby killer. He accused me of not looking at the issues, rather than allowing for me to have different opinions. I got off the phone as soon as I could, having squeezed in a time or two that Stevens is pro-choice and that maybe he should look into Bob Byrd for Senate. Apparently we're not allowed to campaign for Bob Byrd anymore...

An evangelical responded to my initial question with, "Do you know Jesus? 'Cause that's who I'm campaigning for!" and continued with all the usual Jesus-freak questions and statements about letting him into your heart and talking about how he died for you, etc. Eventually I uttered a very calm and cautious, "Ma'am, I'm going to have to end this call," because you know Jesus would have been a democrat and you never know who the Jesus-freaks will vote for. Probably Sarah Palin, but we're hoping that Palin supporters might still support our candidate because they are so obsessed with ethics and ridding the world of corruption and our opponent is on trial for 7 felony counts.

Tonight was a lucky night with the republican crowd. I think that they may have a hard time believing that liberal baby killers could have manners. I put on my most saccharine sweet voice and my nicest manners, charming the answers out of dozens of solid republicans. I even told one woman that I was working for the Alaska Democratic Party and she, moments later, commented that she didn't know if I was democrat or republican or what, but she really wanted me to see this article about this legislator in Florida who was trying to rally the "Jews and Blacks" against Sarah Palin.

The thing about this election season is that, well, it is very polarizing. Regularly, we would all be friendly and all interact so civilly. I don't get called a liberal baby killer when I'm shopping at the grocery store. I don't get people trying to shove a bible down my throat when I'm helping them while at other jobs (usually). And I definitely don't get called despicable EVER. That is just one more reason why I'd like the election to be over already. When all is said and done, the dust will settle and while political discussions may still be fairly common, the accusations should be far less.