Sunday, October 29, 2006

I'm Too Sexy For My Legs

Last night, I went to the local witches' shoppe for their first annual All Hallows Eve party. I was to meet my new friends there, and if the party was as bad as the Friday the 13th Party was, we had plans to leave and go drink a few somewhere downtown.

Thank goodness the party wasn't bad.

Well, it wasn't good, either, but it was MUCH better than the Friday the 13th party. I think partly because Halloween and costumes attract a fun crowd. And partly because there was real food. And of course, then there's the fact that even though, for the most part, many of us didn't know each other, we were able to start conversations simply based on the statement "Hey, your costume is cool; where did you buy..."

This being the first Halloween party I've attended since acknowledging my witchy side, I decided to go as a witch. (Original, eh?) But not just any witch...a Sexy Witch. Of course, this was quite a stretch being as I'm not sexy in the least. (And my cellulite can attest to that, although I'd much rather it stay quiet at times like this.)

I found the coolest skirt at Savers. It is long and black, but the front has two gigantic slits in it, that go almost all the way up to the crotch. Underneath the front slits, there is a tiny mini skirt that just barely covers up the nether region. I built my costume around that skirt, adding a scoop-necked almost Renaissancey-top, a spider choker, a temporary snake wrap-around tattoo on my upper arm, fishnet stockings, high heeled witchy shoes, and a long, curly, purple-colored wig.

I must've done something right, because I won a prize for sexiest costume.

When I got there, my friend Vince was already there. We sat down and talked while I caught him admiring my fishnet covered legs several times. Yeah, I have to admit, they looked good. Nothing quite covers up cellulite like fishnets (and jeans).

By the time Monika and Tom showed up, the party was in full swing. Well, if you count sitting around in a circle talking in twos and threes full swing. Yeah, I didn't say the party was a rager.

Monika looked wonderful, and I am really surprised she didn't win sexiest costume (although for some reason she won spookiest). She had on a fetish latex gown, with a laced up back. The front was low cut, and she accented the gown with a sparkly "diamond" belly belt. She curled her normally straightish hair, wore realistic fangs, and "zombie" contacts. She looked great.

Her husband Tom isn't one to normally dress up, but in his fetish latex pants, red devil top, pointy devil tail, and horns, his effort paid off.

After we talked for awhile, my instructor (who is always the life of the party) got a trivia contest going. It started out with questions about obscure (and not so obscure) witch movies, and moved into mythology of all sorts (from Nordic to Asian to Greek to British). I was only able to answer one question: Who wrote the book "Practical Magic"? (Alice Hoffman) For my correct answer, I received a full-sized candy bar, which Dr. Atkins quickly snatched away from me.

Who invited him to the party?

When the trivia question round had begun to die down, Monika and Tom wanted to leave and go to a real Halloween party. There were several going on in town, and even a free one at Harrah's. But, being the non-clubby type, all I could think of was walking my sexy costumed self into bed.

Oh the exciting life I lead.

Vince walked me to my car (the neighborhood is somewhat dangerous after dark), and told me I looked amazing. Yeah, I think I did look pretty good for a change. Then he told me that if I wanted to catch a movie, I should give him a call.

We hugged, said good-bye, and I high-tailed it out of there for home. Parties are nice, but a warm bed covered in cats is even nicer.

Saturday, October 28, 2006

Why My Local Newspaper Sucks

Once again, the Reno Gazette Journal proves their inability to publish unbiased opinions.

Don't get me wrong; I'm not naive. I know many newspapers have a bias, be it liberal or conservative. It's just that some are better at hiding it than others.

The Reno Gazette Journal doesn't hide thier bias. In fact, they relish it. Unfortunately, it's the only game in town as far as newspapers go, which is one reason I hate the RGJ with a passion.

In my opinion, the paper or any other news agency should not endorse any candidates whatsoever. Their responsibility should only be in reporting the news. And what passes for news these days just floors me, but that's a different rant.

News, news, and nothing but the news. RGJ, Let's try to keep the bias out, and be honorable like your newsreporting forefathers.

Working Girl

So, as my dear readers may have noticed with my last post, I am working.

About a month ago, Office Team posted a position for a Project Assistant. I applied for it through their posting. I didn't hear back.

About a week later, I went in to their offices, took all their silly tests, interviewed with one of the recruiters, argued with him about my references, and was assured I would hear from him soon.

I didn't. So, I called again when I noticed Office Team reposted the Project Assistant position. I asked to be submitted for it. I was assured that my resume would be reviewed, and if I qualified, I would be submitted.

I wasn't.

Another week later, I saw the position posted once again. I called about it, and was once again assured I would be submitted for it. However, in the meantime I was "perfect" for a position the mall had open for a Marketing Assistant. The job sounded interesting: if I got the position, I would be writing promotional material for the mall, along with all other sorts of promotional and marketing activities.

I went in for an interview, and was hired on the spot. That is, until I mentioned my December pre-planned vacation. No go. No vacations during the month of November and December. I was then told that I could only have the position if I canceled my vacation. I said no, I wouldn't do that as most of it was paid for already. So, we parted ways.

When I called Office Team to let them know about the interview, I once again asked them about the Project Assistant position, as it had been reposted just that morning. I was once again assured I would be considered.

I wasn't.

However, this week the Office Team recruiter I had originally interviewed with called me. "Pamela, I believe we have a fantastic opportunity for you..." and he went on to present the Project Assistant job to me. He said they had sent two other people to interview, but since the job was a part-time position to begin with (morphing to full-time in a month or two), they weren't interested.

I said "Of course I'm interested. I asked for this several times."

Anyway, I went in for the interview on Wednesday, was offered the job and asked to start on Thursday. And guess what? Next week I start working full time.

So, I'm not clear on what Office Team was doing with this. The other two people may not have been the right fit. I don't know. I do know that I got the job, after asking for a chance to interview for it for almost a full month.

However, in the "life is never quite that simple" department, when I came home from my first day of work, I found out I missed two calls for jobs I REALLY wanted (one in particular, with a company that offers a full benefit package starting with day one of employment). So, now that I'm supposed to work full time, I am not sure when I'll be able to meet with these other people.

I guess I'll figure it out. In the meantime, I'm making decent money working with a woman I really like so far. Even though I don't have any benefits, it's not such a bad gig. Money is money, after all.

Hocus Pocus

For the last two months, I've been doing job magic like mad. I would say it didn't work, but that would be a lie. It worked in very strange and unfocused ways.

For example, I really wanted to be considered for a particular job. I wrote an excellent cover letter, pumped up my resume, did a little job magic, and sent it off. A few minutes later my phone rang. I answered it. It was an HR manager with a catering company who found my resume on one of the job sites. She was hoping I was interested in a job they had.

Now, this wasn't the job I was interested in, but hey, the position sounded good, so I said yes and interviewed. Of course, as seems to be with my luck here in Reno, I didn't get the job. I wasn't too terribly disappointed, either, as the offices were cave-like (no windows) and the job seemed a bit...rote.

I kept my instructor updated as to the sorts of magic I was doing to get a job. He always said "good, good," or "great instinct." That is, until this week.

There was one job in particular I wanted. I did magic for this job as if I was Merlin. I wouldn't let it go. I did some sort of magic on it almost every day, and twice on the day that I finally got the interview (a grueling three-hour interview with three different people).

However, for all the magic I threw out there, it didn't seem to get me this position. Oddly, it got me more phone calls, and a position through Office Team as Project Assistant. But not this job.

So, when my instructor asked me in class on Tuesday what was going on, I told him. He questioned me about the types of magic I was doing (which I had already told him about several times), however this time he said "No wonder you didn't get this position. You are dong the wrong type of magic."

According to my instructor, the candle magic I was doing was great, but not specific enough. He said that candle magic didn't bind the job to me, and what I should've done was cord magic. So he went over cord magic with me once again (I am all thumbs, and have trouble making a witch's ladder). After he showed me how, he had me do a spell right there in class.

I did.

However, I wasn't convinced that I really nailed it, so when I got home, I did another one as well. The next day while I was at work, the HR rep from this company called.

Yet, because it's my life and nothing seems to go as planned, I haven't hooked up with her by phone yet. I left a few messages, but as it was Nevada Day here on Friday, she may have been out.

Oddly enough, on the same day the HR rep from the company I really want to work for called, I received another call from a very similar company about another high powered job I applied for (this one is as a Report Writer; the other is as a Clinical Data Administrator).

Obviously, the magic is working...however, it's still apparently not focused enough. Trial and error is one thing if I'm playing around with money magic or something like that. However, when it comes to a job I want, it is quite frustrating and - dare I say it? - annoying as well.

I just want the fucking job. Give it to me already, and stop yanking me around!

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Bad Girlfrienditis

I'm a bad girlfriend.

Of course, technically, I suppose I'm not really a girlfriend - at least when he's out on a date with someone else. But, since I do live here rent-free (for the time being) and get taken out to dinner quite frequently, and am treated like the princess I am, I guess I am a girlfriend.

But I'm a bad girlfriend.

Last night, I went to class. Todd was fine when I left. He had been in his computer room, IMing his new friends. I knocked on the door, said good-bye, and left.

When I returned home about 3 hours later, I could tell his office light was off. I figured he was downstairs watching TV. I was wrong.

I searched him out, and found him in bed with the light on. I thought he was asleep until he said "Hi, baby." I asked him if he was tired, and he said, no, he was sick.

About 2 hours later, the vomiting began.

After 11 p.m., he asked me to go get him some Pedialyte. I grumbled, because I hate going out that late, especially to places open 24 hours. It's like the dregs of society hang out at those places after hours. But, I knew he was sick, so after grumbling, I left him standing over the sink, where he was spewing into the garbage disposal.


When I got to CVS, there were two cop cars parked there, and a bunch of kids against the cars. The cops were talking to them. I felt creeped out until common sense hit me to let me know that I would be safe NOW that the cops were there.

I went in, got his faux Pedialyte, and headed towards the car. As I got in, another cop car showed up. I have no idea what went down, but it must've been serious.

When I got home, Todd thanked me, and then asked me why I was grumpy. I said that I hated going out late, because I feared for my safety (I was almost raped once - fought off my attacker - so I tend to be a bit fearful about stuff like that). I apologized, though, and that was that.

I finally got to bed some time after 12. I decided to sleep in my office, because Todd was still up, making runs for the bathroom. I must've been exhausted, because the next thing I know, I was woken up by the shrill, blood piercing ringing of the phone in my room. (Note to self: get another phone!)

I ran to the phone before it could wake Todd up. Turned out, it was Todd. He was calling me from the hospital. Apparently he called 911 and had an ambulance take him to the hospital.

Now, this is where Bad Girlfriend takes over. This is the third time since we've been together that, in my opinion, he has overreacted to what is simply a flu bug. He always makes a big production out of his sickness. He goes to the emergency room, gets put on an IV, and whatever else it is they do there.

I don't get it. And because I don't get it, I am afraid that sometimes I come off as uncaring. Instead of saying things like "Ohmygodhoney...Are you okay?" my first tendency is to roll my eyes. Some how, I managed to hold back the words "Aren't you overreacting a bit?" and instead asked what was wrong.

He said he wasn't sure, and told me that they thought it might be the flu, but were going to take a CAT scan to make sure it wasn't anything more serious.

I wasn't sure why he called an ambulance, and it turned out that apparently he didn't want to wake me up to take him to the hospital. Yet, for some reason, he had no problem waking me to let me know he was at the hospital. Not sure I get that...but maybe I'm not supposed to.

He said he'd be there for a couple of hours, and then would take a taxi home. I said okay.

I went back to sleep.

"How could you go back to sleep when your boyfriend was in the emergency room," you might be thinking. Easily. Because, in my head, I knew nothing serious was wrong; it was just simply a case of Manitis, you ladies know what I mean: Manitis is when men revert to babies at the slightest sniffle.

Okay. So vomiting up his dinner is not a slight sniffle, but it's not anything to call in the CDC for either.

As I am sleeping once again, dreaming of Vince and Kelly hanging out at the house talking to my mother, I am jarred awake once more by the shrillness of the phone. (Note to self: seriously, buy another frickin' phone!) I ran over to answer it, thinking that maybe I was wrong and Todd has some sort of fatal disease.

"Honey, did you say you couldn't pick me up?"


I tried valiantly to wake up, but I simply could not. I looked at my watch. I couldn't see it in the dark. I hit the little Indiglo button. Damn...It wasn't even 7 a.m.

"I thought you were going to take a taxi. I have an interview this morning."

"Oh yeah. Okay."

We hung up, and I went back to sleep.

Kind of.

I couldn't drift off, because now that I'm fully awake I felt guilty for not picking him up. I went downstairs and called him on his cell. No answer.

I called again. No answer.

I figured that must mean he was in a taxi, so I made some coffee and waited.

When he arrived home, I gave him the taxi money. At first he declined it, but I forced him to take it and apologized for not just rushing out and picking him up. I asked him what was wrong and he said...

"I've got the flu."

Yeah. Okay. And while I felt awful knowing that he's sick, I found myself about to roll my eyes. Again.

Why is it that every time he gets sick, it becomes a big production?

I am such a bad girlfriend for not being more sympathetic. Oh, I have my excuses: My mom used to get angry every time my brother or I got sick. If we had the flu, we were sent to our rooms with a new coloring book and some crayons, and given some ginger ale every couple of hours. We were never coddled or sympathized with, consequently, I never seemed to acquire any caregiver tendencies.

Yet, I sometimes wonder if even the most sympathetic woman in the world wouldn't just say "Honey, chill out. You've got the flu. It happens to everybody at some time," and go on her merry way.

I'm hoping she would, because then maybe I wouldn't feel so bad for being such a bad girlfriend in the face of disease.

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Joseph Ernest Martin

This past weekend, one of my most favorite Reno events took place: The Reno Psychic Fair. I planned to go on Sunday, the day that Joseph Ernest Martin, designer of the Quest Tarot, was going to speak. His topic: Good Psychic, Bad Psychic.

I had also hoped to see the EVP workshop, which I had missed two times before. However, apparently it is not in the cards for me to see the EVP people, because I missed them again.

I went with two of my friends, Vince and Monika. Monika is am empath, so she was telling the both of us what sort of energy she was getting from readers. When we passed Martin, she said she felt a scattered energy. She felt he wasn't a bad guy, but he also wasn't someone she would get a reading from. Needless to say, I was disappointed.

She changed her tune a bit after we sat in on his workshop. He was energetic and funny. I immediately fell in love with him, although frankly, he didn't say anything new. But what he did say, he made fresh with his particular style of story telling.

After listening to him, I knew I was going to have to sign up for a reading with him, and hightailed it to his booth right after the workshop to put my name on his list.

See, I've seen him before, at one of the Bay Area holistic fairs. But, his sign-up sheet was full, so I didn't sign up. Plus, I almost always find women readers more in tune with me, so quite frankly, I wasn't too terribly disappointed to see his sheet was full. However, this time I was not going to let the opportunity slip through my hands.

This was his first time to Reno, and that's probably why his sheet wasn't full. Many of the attendees might not of been fully aware of who he was. Whatever the case, his sheet sure filled up after his workshop.

Vince and Monika decided not to get any readings, so they left me before my 1:30 reading. I looked around at the vendor booths until it was my time.

I was quite excited.

Joseph Ernest Martin couldn't have been any friendlier. He's like Pollyanna in men's wear. He exudes energy. He sprayed both our hands with holy water, then sprayed the air around us with sage. He then handed me the cards (his Quest Tarot, of course) and had me shuffle.

When I was done, I handed the cards back to him, and he asked me what my main concern was. I told him that I felt as if I was in flux. I told him I quit my job without having any sort of a plan, my boyfriend was leaving me, I had a cottage I desperately need to get rid of, and a job to be had.

He laid out the cards in a Celtic Cross. The first thing he said was "You're right, your life is definitely in flux. And in fact, from now until June you're going to have to move, move, move. Any stagnancy you employ - any laziness - will just set you backwards." He further stated that even if I was tired, I was going to have to keep moving forward.

He said the very next thing he saw was a change in career, one that would require more schooling (medical transcription???). He said to do it; go to school. He said it wouldn't be easy, but that I will gain more earning ability from doing it.

He also said that I wouldn't have to worry about my health; that I was going to be fine for now. (And, no I don't count this bout of food poisoning against him; he meant my overall health, as in no major sickness or reason to be hospitalized.)

He then asked me what my boyfriend's name was and I said "Todd." He threw some more cards down. He looked at them and guess what? They were all REVERSED. He said that he doesn't see at all that Todd's a bad guy (true). He said that what he saw is that the relationship has been a lot of work, and that if it is to succeed, it would require even more work...from me. He said that went along with the first set of cards which mentioned if anything is going to happen to me, it would require work (change of career = work at
school, etc.).

Then he threw down some more cards in regards to the cottage. Once again, they were all reversed. Anyway, he said the cottage would sell, but again, it was going to require a lot of work from me. He mentioned yard work (which I thought was interesting, because
yard work does need to be done on the place), and stuff like that.

He threw down more cards regarding a job. Once again, they were all reversed. He joked that I should've shuffled the cards longer. He said that I was going to get a job, but like everything else, it was going to require a lot of work from me. He said the cards
showed him I would have to be aggressive, something he also saw as not easy for me. (right on) He said that I was just going to have to keep knocking on doors, following up with thank you letters, etc.

He told me I still had time; did I have another question? I told him that I was considering moving out of state, yet felt the timing wasn't right. He threw down some more cards (again, many of them were reversed) and said that a move was definitely on the way, but not for another year or a year and a half. He said I wouldn't be moving out of state for a boyfriend or health reasons or family reasons. He said that I'd be moving for more earning power.

The 15 minute reading was $32; I didn't think that was bad at all, considering that there were several less experienced readers there charging much more. Plus, he included a tape of the session with that charge. Most readers seem to ask for an additional $5 for a tape.

As he handed me my tape, I told him that while I hadn't yet added it to my collection, I loved his deck. So,he gave me two items FREE: a reference card for when I do get the
deck, and a worksheet I can Xerox for the Celtic Cross.

He hugged me before I left.

Even though my friend the empath was a bit skeptical about Joseph Ernest Martin, I absolutely know he was the right reader for me this weekend. He was very nice, positive, and delivered the bad news with sympathy and advice on how to change it.

I am very pleased with his reading. I mean, sure a lot of it was bad news, but at least now I know what I'm up against.

And as soon as I'm better, I'm going straight to UNR to register for the medical transcription course. It's time for more earning power!
for the medical transcription course.

I'm Sick

Yes. You read that subject heading right: I'm sick. I'm rarely ever sick. I get sick maybe once every 10 years. I guess it's been ten years, because I am really very, very sick.

I actually think I have a mild case of food poisoning. Todd and I went to Sizzler the other day, and I indulged in the salad bar. I didn't feel sick afterward, but the next morning I was siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiick. I was nauseous, and had, well, you know. Yeah. That.

As the day wore on, I became weaker and weaker. I couldn't even stand up. I had chills (no fever), and kept visiting my friend the bathroom.

Yeah. I was sick.

Today I'm not much better. I can't sit up or stand for long periods of time. I can't even eat.

Of course, that might be a godsend. Perhaps I'll lose some of this stubborn weight after all.

Maybe I should get food poisoning more often. It's a lot cheaper than liposuction.


My Risting instructor, along with the owners of a local witches store, decided to throw a party for Triskadecalia (the festival of 13). It was originally planned as a PJ party, but later was changed to just a casual evening of fun, black magic and Pagan movies.

Since my Risting instructor invited all of his students, I decided to go, thinking that there would be people I knew there.

I was wrong.

When I arrived, one of the store owners was there, along with my instructor. There was another woman there, whom I hadn't met before. She was very nice, if maybe a bit wacky. She was not a witch, but very into New Age theories.

She left early. As soon as she cleared the doorway, the others started to make in fun of her. I bristled at that, thinking it was mean-spirited and uncalled for. The rest of the evening did not get any better.

Soon, three UNR students joined in, and then a few others as well. The crowd was a strange mix of people...most of whom seemed to have a mean side to their personality. I wanted to leave, but every time I found a moment to escape, my instructor seemed to pick up on it, and would draw me into the conversation, keeping me there.

A few hours into the evening, one of the store owners finally brought down the ingredients for the Black Cat oil we were going to mix and use. The bowl of ingredients was passed around, and each one of us stirred our intent into the bowl. Afterward, we were each given a vial of the oil, while my instructor taught us how to use it.

He took a black candle, anointed it, and showed us the intricate details of the spell. Then he cast it, while we watched. He placed the lit candle on a makeshift alter, and we proceeded with the rest of the evening.

Finally, I had my chance to escape. My instructor's parting words were to use the oil when we all got home, as the best time to use Black Cat Oil was on Friday the 13th.

When I got home, I pulled out my black candle, closed the circle, and began the ritual. When I opened the circle, I noticed the candle was burning cleanly; a sign the magic was working.

I went to bed, and slept fitfully. However, come morning, I could not shake the bad vibes I had from the night before.

I spent the following morning (Saturday) crying on and off. Hunky asked me what was wrong, and I told him that I was sure it had something to do with the energy from the night before. Most of the people were mean-spirited, and I think that went home with me.

Later that morning, I spoke with a local friend about the incident. Her advice was that the oil, mixed with every one's intentions, was the real culprit. She suggested I get rid of it and never use it again.

After speaking with her, I did a purification ritual on myself, and felt much better. However, later when I returned home, the feelings came back to me. I can only surmise that even though I purified myself, I had not purified the room I did the magic in, therefore that bad energy was still hanging around the room.

Saturday afternoon, I met with two friends who had decided not to go to the party. We discussed what happened, and became concerned with the upcoming Halloween party the same place is throwing. We all have our costumes pretty much done, and were planning to go together, but all agreed that if the crowd is anything like the crowd at the Friday the 13th party, we might be better off skipping it, and going to the Witches Ball instead.

Even five days afterwards, I'm still feeling the effects of that evening. While I'm not completely sure of what went on or what I carried back with me, I know this: I hope to never find myself in a similar situation again.

Monday, October 16, 2006


Hunky is dating. He had his first date on Saturday night, and he has another one tonight. The girl he dated Saturday was someone he met through a parents of children with Asperger's support group. The girl he'll be meeting tonight is through a dating agency.

If you're wondering how I'm doing with all of this, I can't honestly say. One minute, I'm totally fine with it. The next minute, I'm concerned.

"Concerned" is the extent of my adverse feelings so far. For now, I'm not feeling threatened or worried or despondent. I am honestly glad he's meeting new people. Yet, I recognize that at some point, meeting new people will no longer be the gist of the exercise. At some point, he'll meet someone he connects with, and then that will really change the dynamic of our "relationship."

I'm not really sure what to think about that, so I kind of just don't think about it right now.

As for me, I've entertained the idea of reactivating my account. But, when I look at the type of guy available here in the local area, I cringe. Most have kids. Most are looking for someone to camp/hike/ski/sail with. And all are into sports.

That is not the kind of guy I want, nor the type of dating lifestyle I am fond of. The last time I went "camping" was in the Army, and that was enough for me. I'm allergic to outdoor sports, and watching sports on TV gives me the willies.

So for now I think I'll keep my profile hidden and hope for the best.

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

Ten Things

Hunky's been chiding me for not updating my blog. "Why didn't you blog about X?" "Why haven't you writing about Z?"

In honor of hunky, here are ten things I apparently should've blogged about, but haven't:

1. The Amazing $9 Offer: Last week, I received a call out of the blue for a job that made me salivate. It was for a Marketing Assistant position, with a 30-hour work week. The woman I spoke to was nice, so I set up an appointment for an interview. I was definitely qualified, and the more I thought about my chances of getting this job, the happier I became.

On interview day, I put on my new interview dress, charged my now magical necklace, and tucked my sigil into my bra. I was set.

When I arrived at the job site (a bit tricky to find, but I got there,with minutes to spare), I was greeted by a festively decorated-for-Halloween office. Besides the decorations, the office was nicely appointed, and I knew this was an atmosphere I would enjoy working at.

That is, until I got the application.

It was a six-page form, asking me everything from salary requirements to permission for them to perform a credit check on me. I had to fill out two pages of personality traits (circling the ones that applied to me, including bad ones, because if at least three "bad" ones weren't circled, I would not be considered a serious applicant). Then I had to write an essay about what my perfect day would be like.

This was not going well.

When I finally sat down with the person I hoped would soon be my boss, she took a look at my application, saw my salary requirements and said "uh oh." She then explained that the position only paid $9 an hour.

Nine. Dollars. An Hour.

For all the skills they required the applicant to have, for the six page survey, covering everything from personality traits to bad habits to a one-page essay, they were only willing to pay $9 an hour. Needless to say, I told her I wasn't interested and left.

And that, my friends, is what looking for a job in Reno is like. Fruitless. And a huge waste of time.

2. Cottage Woes: My realtor called the other day. He said the good news is that he's getting up to 4 calls a day about my property. The bad news: everyone that sees it is scared of it. He suggested that I get some cleaners in there and get the yard fixed up.

And, I have put in MANY calls, with no calls back. Which is why I was getting rid of it in the first place, because I couldn't get a contractor over there to give me an estimate to save my life. My only conclusion is that people in Reno don't really want to work. They say they do, but when you actually give them a call, they decide that they're having much more fun declaring bankruptcy, so they don't call back.

And the frustration just goes on and on and on...

3. The Redefinition of an Eight-Year-Old Relationship: Two weeks ago, hunky and I were getting ready to leave for our counseling appointment. He turned to me and said "What are we going to talk about today? Do we even have anything to talk about?" That led to a discussion that lasted about two hours (we called our counselor to cancel mid-way through our convo). The basic boil down is this: neither one of us is happy with where our relationship is, so we're in the process of "redefining" it, as hunky puts it. This means, we are no longer exclusive.

I was going to move out, but seeing as I don't have a job, and hunky is currently juggling several offers, all of which would take him out of state, he decided it would be easier on both of us if I just stay here. We are best friends, and he figures we'll make it work somehow. In the meantime, I'll be here to take care of the dogs if he should leave suddenly, and he'll continue to provide me with a roof over my head until I can either 1) afford to move out or 2) get a job, which kind of seem the same to me, but what the hell...

4: I'm Gonna Be A Star: Actually, I'm not going to be a star, but I did have my chance, which I declined. Scraps, the local barkery, asked hunky and me if we wanted to be a part of their advertising campaign (along with the dogs, of course). The answer was yes, with the exception of me. I am scared of the camera (or rather, what I look like on camera), so I just went along to help manage the dogs during the part of the photo shoot that focused on hunky with a single dog, rather than the whole pack. So, if you're a local, look for Todd and the dogs in a print ad near you soon.

5: Wrestling With My Weight: It happened again. My metabolism decided that it will no longer respond to Atkins, so it slowed down and grabbed a few extra pounds, which it meted out between my thighs and my buttocks. I heard that for every decade after 30, the body's metabolism slows down by 10%. That would put my metabolism as about 25% slower than it was in my 20's.

It's so frustrating and aggravating for me. I watch what I eat. I count my carbs. I exercise. I do almost everything right (with the occasional monthly splurge when I go visit my parents, because they refuse to understand that when I say "no sweets, no carbs," that I really mean it). But no matter what I do, it only results in a momentary weight loss, until my metabolism realizes "Hey, she's trying to fool me again," and slows down again in defiance.

It's gotten to the point where I almost just want to give up and become a fattie. I am almost ready to buy a closetful of pull-on pants and muumuus and call it a day. I mean, I'm not enjoying much of my food now, and I'm still gaining weight. So why not enjoy it while gaining weight?

I don't know...forty-something seems a little early to be giving up, so I'm still hanging in there, bumping up my exercise and bumping down my carbs. But I tell you what, another year or two of getting nowhere with my metabolism will probably find me at the nearest Lane Bryant, that is, after I have a gigantic Cinnabon in the Food Court.

6. Finally, some friends: I think I've whined in here before about how difficult it's been for me to make friends in Reno. Every time I make a friend I start to get close to, that person moves away (Reno is a very transient area). However, through the local Witches Meetup group, I finally made a few good friends, and we've been hanging out frequently, doing things like outings to the Ren Faire, building an origami haunted palace for Halloween, and eating lunch at Claim Jumper. I am officially part of a group, and it feels good.

7. Fighting With Office Team: Yesterday, I received a call from Office Team. I had applied to a job they're trying to fill, and they decided I did indeed make a good candidate. So, they asked that I come in today to be tested. The recruiter asked me to bring in two forms of identification, and two names and phone numbers of supervisors, one of which had to be from my most current place of employment. I told them that I would be glad to bring in two names with accompanying phone numbers, but neither would be from Acme Consulting Company.

The guy I spoke to insisted, and I stood my ground, and said no, I would not provide that information. He said I need not be worried; as long as I hadn't done anything unethical, Acme couldn't give me a bad reference. I finally said that was exactly what I was afraid of, as Acme and I had a clash of what was and wasn't ethical. So, he finally relented and said I could use Westaff instead.

So, even though this particular job I applied for initially had me excited, I'm dreading this encounter today at Office Team. It seems like it might just be a replay of item #2 above...

8. I'll Put A Spell On You: Believe it or not, my Risting Tradition classes are almost over. My instructor told us that we only have five classes left. We end in January, at which time he'll let us know which ones of us he will initiate, and which ones of us won't have that honor.

Last week, I had a one-on-one class with my instructor, and he tested me on some theory, etc. Then he said something that I took for face value, and only later realized it could've had a hidden meaning. He said that no one in his Monday class was going to graduate, let alone be initiated, if they kept doing what they're doing. However, everyone in his Tuesday class (the class I'm a member of), was going to graduate. Then he said "But, not everyone will be invited to be initiated."

After class as I was driving home, it occurred to me that this might be a veiled warning to me that I might not be invited to be initiated. My instructor isn't always upfront, and sometimes uses hints to get his point across. The only way I have of finding out is to ask him directly. And, honestly, I'm not sure that I care enough at this point to do that...

9. Snilly Wills: Purrscilla (a.k.a. Purrsnickety, Purrsnilla, Snills, Snilly, Snilly Willy, and Snilly Wills) is recovering nicely from her surgery. She's still not peeing in large amounts, which bugs me. The vet, though, said as long as she's peeing, he's happy. Yesterday,the veterinary office called to let me know what type of crystal she had, and the type of diet to put her on to help counteract crystal formation.

A holistic vet in the area said he can help correct her system with a regimen of Chinese herbs and acupuncture. While I'm interested, he has very limited hours, which means as soon as I start working, I won't be able to take her anymore. So, I'm still mulling that around. In the meantime, I'll be getting her new food and continue to watch her pee. She thinks I'm a perv, but I keep trying to assure her I only have her best interests at heart...

10. Benny, The Well Hung Chihuahua: Benny is our youngest and smallest canine, yet the size of his doghood is HUGE. Unfortunately for him, it's often hidden from view by his big, blue diaper. However, on the few occasions we set him free, he celebrates by rubbing his gigantic schween on hunky, and then French kissing him. Todd keeps telling Benny that boys don't kiss boys, to which Benny replies "I can't quit you."

Simply Ridiculous

While drinking my morning coffee, I thought it would be a good idea to watch the news. I hadn't watched in awhile, and figured it was time I caught up with what's going on in the world.

Five minutes into watching GMA, I was reminded at why I often choose not to watch the mainstream news: stupidness reigns.

GMA reported that pediatricians are pushing for ratings of "R" for any movie depicting any character smoking. No matter how small the part, if someone is smoking, guess what? The movie should get an "R" rating according to these clowns.

I say "WTF?" Why aren't they working on alcohol or drugs? No, apparently smoking is the biggest evil in the world today, and must not be shown in movies. However, let someone curse their head off while smoking their fattie, and that's okay. And a kid who went to a party and downed a few beers, then got into a car, all under the disguise of a teen movie? Why, that's just fine too.

I honestly do not understand this kind of muddy thinking. One would hope that pediatricians were smart, however this latest news proves otherwise. Or maybe it just proves they have no common sense. Whatever the case, I'm glad I don't have children, because I simply would not know who to bring them to for treatment, should they get sick from all of my secondhand smoke.

Maybe a veterinarian would be a good choice...