Almost Interesting

My job kind of has me down lately. I have a peon job where I sit in a gray cube doing miscellaneous clerical tasks all day long. It keeps a roof over Roman’s and my heads but that’s about it. It’s not really the work that is getting to me; I don’t mind it all. I never lament a Monday nor wish for a Friday nor get up and wonder if I should call out. It’s just that I seem to make so many mistakes in performing my monkey-job that it is beginning to get to me.

There’s someone in this department who claims that my Baby Magic Baby Lotion is bothering her. Hello? This is baby lotion. They put it on babies because they’re sensitive. You don’t have the constitution to withstand baby lotion?? How do you handle going outside in the morning or taking out your garbage? Honestly, some idiot here is just trying to spite me and I don’t know who because whoever it is keeps going to my supervisor to complain. I’d go ahead and stop wearing lotion until my hands bleed and then wave it in my supervisor’s face, but I just can’t stand the feeling of dry hands. I’ve been using the stuff they have in the fax/mail/food cubicle just to get me through my day but it’s so greasy and this “unscented” crap smells somewhat like bacon. It bothers me. Maybe I should complain?

Speaking of bacon, my office is having another catered breakfast buffet on Monday. I grimaced at this announcement. I feel like an utter brat to hate these people for such an expensive office gift, but think of what they’re doing to their employees! They’re rewarding them with food! Doesn’t this strike anybody but me as bad?? When you reward people with food, they associate eating with good feelings and accomplishment. Do some of these people have any idea how hard it is to break that psychological pattern? It took me months of intense suffering to do so for myself. Also, said breakfast is replete with eggs, bacon, fried potatoes, sausage links, pancakes, butter, syrup, milk, orange juice and all other sorts of high-calorie things. They never serve any fruit or water. What’s worse is my new desk is very close to where they always set these buffets up. I’ll have to smell it and listen to everyone talk about it from my desk. These people really want to torture me, don’t they?

Elizabeth, my immediate supervisor, brought bagels for everyone to enjoy today. Bagels are my kryptonite. Like I’ve mentioned before, there’s a cubicle dedicated to placing our contracts to be processed, mail and other such things. This is always the place where they put food and drinks. I have to go into this particular cube between 20-30 times per day. I’ve made my anorexia quite clear to a few of my coworkers and yet they insist I eat this stuff. I’m fat, stop pushing food under my nose!

I’m 45 lbs down from my starting point 4 months and 1 day ago: still ugly but feeling better. In a strange twist, Roman and I have actually been planning to go to Olive Garden tomorrow. I complain about people at work trying to make me to eat but I’ll go to Olive Garden. I’d think myself a hypocrite if I hadn’t been restricting my calories more so in order to save enough to spend on eating there. It’s better, I think, to eat a little of what you love than a lot of what you don’t. Don’t you agree?

There’s something that happened that I’ve neglected to include here. My brother, Matthew, is again in jail. I didn’t forget about this, I just wanted to wait a bit before talking about it.

This happened in late January. My brother had been in a minor vehicle accident some time ago and the police department had issued a ticket without his knowledge. Because it went unpaid and unchallenged, an arrest warrant was issued for Matthew. They arrested him at home and because he is currently on probation, they searched the premises and found his girlfriend’s, Sherry’s, hentai collection.

Having porn in the place of residence of a sex-offender on probation is strictly prohibited. Even though Matthew’s ticket was paid by Pam, he remains in jail. Sherry left Matthew shortly thereafter for her home state of New Hampshire and would not return any correspondences. Pam later said that she eventually did get Sherry to talk to her and Pam was told that Matthew and offered to send pictures of his penis to some of her friends online and such. Ah, whatever, just write a letter to the judge saying the porn was yours, please?

Pam called me a few days ago; Jenny was hysterical in the background. Pam had called to make Jenny speak to me in attempt to get Jenny to “tell all” about the sexual abuse allegations. Jenny doesn’t want to talk to me about this. She didn’t after all this happened, so I never asked again. I assured Jenny that she didn’t need to tell me and that was OK. I don’t know why she doesn’t want to say. Many things go through my head: she’s ashamed, she’s embarrassed, she thinks I won’t believe her, she thinks our relationship will change, she doesn’t want to lose the fact that I don’t know, maybe it’s all a lie and Jenny’s tired of parroting it to everybody on command? Whatever it is, I really hope she never tells me.

I don’t want Jenny to tell me “her side” of the sexual abuse story between herself and Matthew because it complicates things for me. I’ve only been told one side, Matthew’s side: He’s innocent and Pam’s just manipulating Jenny because she loves the drama so. It’s easy to believe this and I don’t want to think of anything else. I can go on believing Matthew because there’s no conflict between my siblings here. I don’t have to call one a liar and take sides. I don’t want to take sides! I don’t believe either of them. I believe them both. I don’t know what to think. I just try not to think about it. I love both of them dearly and I don’t want to have to push one of them away for good.

All the while, all Jim can think about is that Pam’s cooking up some crazy scheme to get Jenny to say he abused her, too, and have him put away. Everybody in my family is either a victim or a villain except for myself… and I can’t tell one from the other.

Evgeni Plushenko won the men’s figure skating gold medal last night. I hope you watched. I’ve been a figure skating fan for as long as I’ve known what it was (about age six) and I’ve never seen a more transcendently beautiful performance by any skater.

He skated to The Godfather, a stunningly-remade version of the theme from the movie The Godfather, by Edvin Marton. (I’m going to buy that song on iTunes at the first chance I get!) His movements were perfectly in-time with the music and very suiting for it. I swear I’ve never seen better skating in my life; I cried! I was sitting there, unblinking, my mouth gaping open, with tears rolling down my face in a big stream. Astounding! Breathtaking! I’ve never seen anything more gorgeous nor awe-inspiring in my entire life; I kid you not!

I really wish the commentators would have shut up, though. They kept whining that he didn’t display enough emotion nor was he “artistic” enough. To Hell with all of you! None of you have ever landed a 4-3-3! I guess NBC doesn’t understand that Olympic Figure Skating is not Monday Night Football. Figure skating is a mixture of art and athleticism; we don’t need any commentary! Evgeni Plushenko’s performance and demeanor were the epitome of Objectivist beauty. We are all honored by simply being allowed to watch.

I couldn’t find any videos of his 2006 Olympic Gold perfomance, but I did find a video him performing the same program at the 2005 European Championship, which he won, too. Click here to see the video I uploaded. I’ll put up the Olympic performace once I can find a video of it; I think it’s improved over the one in the video.

For those of you who have poked around this blog for long enough or those who know me in person, you already know that I was adopted in infancy. I was born to irresponsible fifteen-year-old Jill McCave. I found her quite easily soon after I turned eighteen and accepted my past. She told me that it was so hard to give me up, that she cried nearly every day for the first year of my life and every birthday after that and whenever she heard of a child on the news who was about my age and was kidnapped or killed. I thought she really cared, even if this was only a biological attachment. I was wrong.

I asked her, years ago, to tell me of all my siblings. She told me that she had four sons: Allen, Dustin, Christian and Branden. (Yes, she’s bad at picking names.) The eldest three lived with their father and the youngest with her and her new husband. I finally got around to calling the three elder brothers on Saturday. It was a bit annoying that all three sounded just like Brian and nearly as apathetic as he. Here I am, your long lost sister, and you’re sitting there eating and watching TV without even trying to make conversation! Alas, I cannot hate them for this because they’re just teenage boys. I made a comment to Allen, “Ah, you should sound happier! How many long-lost sisters do you have?” He had to think about this.

Allen told me that I had two other sisters, “Angel” and “Gabrielle.” They were given up for adoption in infancy, too, because Jill’s second husband had already had two girls from a previous marriage and didn’t want any more. I immediately called Jill and confronted her on this. I was told that it was one child, “Angel Gabrielle,” (yes, her names are terrible) and that she didn’t lie to her about me, she simply didn’t tell me about her.

You know what, Jill? You deceived me. You purposely didn’t tell me about her. You had something to hide in not telling me about her and that makes you a liar. I asked about my siblings and you completely skip one. That’s intentional. That’s a lie.

I can’t fathom, really, why she would hide this from me. If what she told me years ago was, “I honestly don’t give a damn about my kids. I’ve had six and don’t have custody of five of them. I’m the last person in the world that should be a parent,” I would have accepted this. Why did she have to lie to me? Why did she tell me it was so heartbreaking to relinquish me yet she did it again?! She doesn’t care about her kids. She only cares about her own, personal comfort.

Jill gave up a child just because a man told her to do so. What kind of woman would comply?! Why didn’t she leave him?! Where is her motherly love?! It’s obvious why: she cares more about having somebody to make money for her than she does about her children. She hates this man. She told me herself! Why doesn’t she leave him? Because it would be hard! Because she would have to, for the first time in her life, be an adult and support herself! Instead of taking the mature route, she dumps her children and skates on easy street. Spinelessness!

I know you’ll read this. I hope this little girl never finds you, Jill. All the children you’ve kept are delinquents or are well on the path to become so. If this child finds you, all she’ll find is disappointment for her white-trash roots and the pain of being thrown away like so much garbage.

You’re just a fucking broodmare, Jill Kroskie. You’re not a mother.

I ate so much today. I woke up at 179.1 lbs today and ruined it. What’s wrong with me?

I had a bagel first thing this morning and so I planned to eat nothing until tomorrow. When I got to work, I had forgotten that today was a potluck but figured I’d be OK. This wouldn’t be the first potluck I’ve had to ignore. (They keep the food all in the cubicle where our contracts and such are. You can’t avoid this cube!) Well, Margy (coworker that knows about my eating habits) kept prodding me to eat stuff. She kept insisting that the veggies were OK to eat. I said, “Fiiine,” and ate a cherry tomato, but we all know that once you eat one thing for leisure, it never stops there.

I ate:

• 2.5 bagels (including the one from this morning)
• Some asaigo cheese (maybe 4 ounces)
• 2 small crackers (each about 1/3 the size of a saltine)
• 10 cherry tomatoes
• 2 meatballs (the type in BBQ sauce)

I’ll have to refrain from eating anything until Wednesday now. I can’t believe I went so crazy! Why can’t I control myself better than this? I’m doomed to be a pig girl for the rest of my life. =(