Kristabella: Full of Snark Since 1977

Posted By Kristabella on November 28, 2007

Today has been a hell of a day. I’m exhausted. Literally worn down to the nub.

At 3 o’clock this morning, my phone rang. My landline home phone. Which no one besides telemarketers and my family have. Because I only have it to get DSL.

I had just recently gotten up to take some Advil for the toothache from hell (seriously, if a throbbing tooth wakes you up, it’s a bad night), so I wasn’t completely out of it. At first when the ringing started, I looked at my cell phone. (OK, maybe I was out of it.) And finally realized it was my house phone. Then I looked at my cell again. Three AM? Who the hell would be calling? Must be a prank caller.

So I waited to hear the answering machine pick up. And then I waited to hear the inevitable beep when?the prank caller decided to hang up and not leave a message and just be the World’s Biggest Prick for even thinking it was funny.

One second passed, no beep. Two seconds, no beep. Ten seconds, no beep. That’s when I began to panic. Someone was actually leaving me a message at 3 o’clock in the morning. And everyone knows that unless it is a weekend and people are drunk dialing, phone calls pre-dawn are never good.

It’s my brother. And he’s talking and I’m not processing. Because what the hell is going on? Where am I? Is it really 3 AM or did I just dream this? And why do I still have my night guard in? It doesn’t make the talking easy.

I pick up the phone. It’s 3 AM, have I mentioned that? And my brother is in Kansas. On a work trip. But my sister-in-law Kim is not feeling well. She’s having chest pains. She needs to go to the emergency room NOW. And she needs someone to watch the kids. Because she’s by herself. My brother is in Kansas.

So I get dressed. I put in my contacts, take out my night guard, brush my teeth, grab my laptop because I may not be at work today. And I hit the road.

My first thought is that I’m glad the kids are OK. My second, and a lot of subsequent thoughts until I get the fuck over myself, are selfish. That I’m tired. And my tooth hurts. And I haven’t really slept at all this night. And I get whiney.

And then I slap myself. Because Kim? She hasn’t slept AT ALL. And she’s having really bad chest pains. Any time she tries to lie down, it feels like her heart is going to explode through her chest. My problems are so not even in the same universe.

Did you know it is really kind of eerie at 3 AM outside? I mean, I live in the city of Chicago. And there wasn’t one car on the road. It was dead silent.

As I’m driving, I debate about getting coffee. I don’t know how long she’s going to be at the ER, and I’m tired, but I also know the kids don’t get up until 7 so I can catch an hour or so of shut-eye before they get up. Plus, do I really have time to stop to get coffee when Kim needs to go to the EMERGENCY ROOM? Again, selfish. And Dunkin Donuts wasn’t open yet anyway.

As I’m driving past the closed Dunkin, I’m stopped at an intersection. The light is red. I’m turning right. There is NO ONE on the roads. I inch a little over the line and stop, look and make sure I’m able to turn right on red. There are no signs forbidding this. I turn right on red all the time at this intersection.

Well Holy Fancy Moses, they’ve added a red light camera at this intersection. This is a new development. I think. So as I inch over the line, to check the NON-EXISTENT traffic, all of a sudden all these lights are going off. Flashing lights everywhere. Is it fireworks? Are they gun shots? WHAT. THE. HELL?

No. It’s the fucking red light camera. Taking my photo! Because I stopped at a red light. To turn right on red. In which you need to lean a little into the intersection. As to not accidentally drive your ass into oncoming traffic. And forgive me if I wasn’t paying the best attention. It was 3 AM! And my sister-in-law! And chest pains!

To add stupidity to asinine, I got pulled over on the way up there too. Because who the hell drives around the north suburbs of Chicago at 3:30 on a Wednesday morning? Drunk people apparently. Or people just generally up to no good. Because I’m sure that’s what that cop was hoping for. You know he was all “she’s got a headlight out. Maybe she’s got a bag of weed on her passenger seat too. Jackpot!”

No, asshole, turns out I just have a headlight out and I’m too lazy to change it in the DARK during the week because I live in the city and I park on the street and there is no light.

He gave me a warning. Because I claimed to have no clue. “Whaaaaa? I doooooo? Get out!” (Yes, I said “get out” to a cop. It was early. And I’m stupid.) And I didn’t even have to throw out the “my sister-in-law needs to go to the hospital!” card. But Jesus H. Christ, why then? Stupid suburban cops. If they aren’t pulling me over, they’re killing their wives.

I finally got there. Kim had called one of the neighbors and the neighbor’s husband came over because Kim couldn’t wait for me to make the whole hour drive up there. Plus, he goes to work early, so he was up anyway.

I went to sleep, figuring it was going to be a long day and any little cat nap I could sneak in would help me get through the day. After about an hour, I heard the garage door open. She was back. And she was fine.

Diagnosis? Pretty severe panic attack. She had a chest X-Ray and an EKG and everything checked out OK. So she’s fine. Everyone is fine. And my brother is home from Kansas.

See, last time my brother went out of town, Kim had a bad reaction to the antibiotics she was on and had some similar chest pains. But her mom was there at the time. So the kids were taken care of.

Fast forward to last night. She’s not feeling well. Her mind begins to wander. “What if I need to get to the hospital? Who will watch the kids?” So forgive her if she started to panic a little bit. Who wouldn’t?

The thing is, my sister-in-law, she hates the doctor. And she hates asking people to do things. So for them to call me at 3 AM and have me drive 50 miles, it was a big deal.

I’m so thankful it was a panic attack. It could have been something worse. Panic attacks can be fixed. It’s why God invented Xanax.

The poor girl felt SO bad when she got back. Making me get up like that. And driving all that way. For just a little over an hour. She was embarrassed that it was something so minor and she made me go through all of this. And then I shook her because “are you kidding me? This was NOT minor. You were sick. You needed to get thee to an ER. And this is what I’m here for!”

It didn’t even cross my mind to not do it. Sure, I may complain and be a little selfish, but nothing would have stopped me from helping her out. I would do it again in a hot second. Because that is what family is for. And it makes me so happy that I’m the first one they call. That she trusts me enough and doesn’t even think twice about leaving me with her children. Because we all know how much I love those two kids.

So I’m tired. Kim is fine. Everything is fine. And this is what is important. Who cares about a stupid job? This is what matters most to me in my life. This is worth being tired for. Helping people you love is worth the lack of sleep.

The rest is just filler.

Category: All in the Family, NaBloPoMo | 19 Comments »
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Posted By Kristabella on November 27, 2007

I try not to talk about work too much on here. I learned a bit of a lesson with the consulting thing. And I mean “a bit” because well, that was just a blatant overreaction. But since I don’t know how people are going to react, especially crazy CEOs, because who would get that MAD over a blog post, I keep it to a minimum. And it’s fine. Because it’s not like I work for a sports team or something. Or a dirt company.

And I have avoided talking about this, but my very blah mood today kind of calls for it. It could be because I eat shit all day and don’t exercise and spend too much time on the computer so I don’t get enough sleep, but really? That doesn’t make for a good post. No one wants to read how I sit around like Al Bundy with my hand down my pajama pants all night, watching bad reality TV, reading blogs and petting my cats. Jesus, I just wrote it and punched myself in the face. And I had to pull my hand out of my pants to do it!

So the company I work for, it recently got bought out. This is the largest company I have ever worked for, so it was kind of a big deal. And when I took this job in May, I knew there was some shit going on. At that time, no one knew what it was going to be. Just that there were possibly going to be some changes, possibly not. It definitely wasn’t enough to deter me from taking the job. And in hindsight, I wouldn’t have done anything differently.

Well, with the buy out, changes were inevitable. As is typical with these kinds of situations. What the changes were/are, we still aren’t sure.

Which leads me to this week. About a month ago, we got word that changes were going to be coming. Around the end of November. Which is Friday. The rumor mill is spinning. We have no idea what is going to happen. Some have been told they might have to relocate. It is just a very weird environment at work these days.

I’ve been let go twice. Once in January 2005 from the Niners. And once in April from Slalom. There is a chance that at the ripe young age of 30, I will have been laid off three times. Three times in the last 3 years. It kind of sucks to think about.

I discussed this with Marianne and Hotfessional last month when we went to dinner. Hotfessional is very familiar with what I’m going through. Marianne was shocked I wasn’t more freaked out. So was I, to be quite honest.

A few weeks ago, I snapped at my brother on the phone when discussing all of this. He keeps telling me I’ll be OK. That no one cares about peons like me. True. But then I flipped out on him. Screaming and crying. Because I’m tired of people telling me it will be OK. You DON’T KNOW THAT! And I don’t know it either. And it doesn’t make it easier.

If they want to let me go, they’ve already made up their minds. All I can do is come in and do my job the best way I know how. Because that’s what I get paid to do. And it is entirely in their hands. And freaking out will do nothing but make me lose sleep and get crabby.

But the reason I freaked out on my brother was because while I may be fine, these people constantly telling me this?don’t have to be in my office every day. Sharing the same coffee pot and drinking fountain with the same people who have been told they will most likely no longer be working in Chicago. People with families. People with mortgages. People who might lose their jobs.

It is not fun to go into work. Everything is on hold. We don’t know what is going to happen next week, let alone next year. And it makes for a lot of silence. And stressed-out people. And a lot of freaking out. Because no one wants to lose their job.

So as much as I try and not care because, really, I do not control it. It doesn’t make it easier to come in every day and see people?who are very worried. People who don’t want to move to Podunk, Arkansas. People who are freaking out about the possibility of losing their jobs. People who are worrying about the possiblity of not being able to take care of their families.

And while we joke about eyeing the empty boxes, or moving into a bigger cube, the fact is, it is SCARY. It is a position no one wants to be in. And I really dread going into work this week. Because even if I am lucky enough to keep my job, there are people who won’t. And it is sad. And I don’t wish that on anyone.

So forgive my very meh mood today. I think it is effecting me more than I’d like to admit. Because the dishes aren’t getting done. And apparently I just think the litter box is going to empty itself. But as much as I wouldn’t mind having some time off to see how Drew Carey is really doing on The Price is Right, I know that the last thing I want to do is a job search for what seems to be the 10th time in the last 18 months.

Because that’s more pathetic than the sight of me on my couch mimicking Al Bundy.

Category: NaBloPoMo, Worky Work | 22 Comments »
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Posted By Kristabella on November 26, 2007

So while catching up on the 1,758 posts I had to read once I got back on the computer last night, I came across this post over on Fat Bridesmaid’s site. No, I didn’t just insult her. That’s really the name of her site.

Anyway, who wouldn’t like a little phun with photos? (Did you see what I did there?) And! I’m also eager to see what Google Images picks up for random searches. Because it’s krayzee like that.

1. Age at next birthday

2. Place I’d like to travel

3. Favorite place

4. Favorite objects

5. Favorite food

?OR?

6. Favorite animal

7. Favorite colors

8. Town where I was born

9. Town where I live

10. Name of past pet

11. Name of past love

12. Best friend’s nickname

13. My nickname

14. My first name

15. Bad habit I have

16. First job

17. Grandmother’s name

18. College major

OK, this was hard and kind of sucked. Feel free NaBloPoMoFos, but it took forever. I pretty much gave up once I got to the nose picking.

Category: Memes, NaBloPoMo | 17 Comments »
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Posted By Kristabella on November 25, 2007

I have arrived safely back in Chicago. I know you were all wondering if I would make it or if I would be overcome by a flood of rum and just stay in St. Louis.

I’m exhausted. If I had a video camera in the car with me filming me on my drive back, it would be some good shit. I left St. Louis about 10:30 this morning. Because the housekeeping ladies at the Ritz were loud. Probably because most of the floor was Seahawks people and they were all at the stadium by this time. But I? Was not. And I needed my beauty rest.

But then because I am a freak, I started thinking they were going to come in and kick me out because well, I didn’t pay for the room and the person who was the guy staying in that room had up and left. And the Ritz is no place for whores. I mean, they don’t even have porn. It’s not how the Ritz dos it.

So I just got up. And left. I drank Saturday night, but not a lot. I actually rallied pretty well. After Rich and I went to dinner, I was done. I just needed to sleep. And then I got a text from a blogger friend who lives down there, so I figured I’d take a little nap and suck it up. Because well, I don’t go to St. Louis a lot and I’m not 50. And going to bed before 9 on a Saturday night is just not acceptable. And that’s not how I dos it.

Rally commenced. We all hung out. Laughed A LOT. The trainer for the Seahawks is one funny dude. And had us all on the verge of pissing our pants from laughing. I couldn’t even begin to tell the story. I don’t think it would tell well. I mean, whenever you start with talking about the owl in the Tootsie Pop commercials and segue into Big Johnson shirts, you just realize it’s one of those “you had to be there” times.

But because I didn’t get enough sleep necessary to drive four-plus hours through a vast wasteland of flat things that all look the SAME, on a cloudy, rainy-then-snowy day, my eyes, they wanted to be closed. And my body, it wanted to be back in bed at the Ritz. Carlton.

So then I resort to just about anything. I try talking to myself, but then my brain doesn’t even think I’m interesting enough to pay attention by STAYING AWAKE, so I tune my own damn self out and the eyes get heavy and SOADES sets in.

After that, I try music. That usually helps. I get some good rap tunes playing, and sing along, and I can usually pep right up. Today, though, not so much. I was like SCREAMING the lyrics. And clapping loud. And dancing. And trying to get the blood flowing. And then again, my brain was embarrassed at my display, and tuned the fuck out. And again with the SOADES.

Then I resort to the phone. I called EVERYONE I could think of that would talk to me. And no one answered. I then started stalking my mom and my sister. Because my brain thinks other people are interesting.

The final straw is screaming. At the top of my lungs. It helps for a second because you’re like freaked out at the volume of your own voice in such a confined space. But then you go back to being tired. After that, I try slapping my cheeks. This is the final straw because OW! It hurts! And somehow turns on the fight or flight reflex or whatever it is and my body shuts down. Because the crying from the pain? It makes me even?more sleepy.

So finally I decided to stop and get out and thought maybe stretching my legs would get me going enough to make the last 100 miles home. But have you driven through Illinois? There is NOTHING in it besides Chicago. Seriously. Springfield is a nice little blip. Better choice in restaurants. And maybe a building BESIDES a farmhouse to look at. But that’s like 90 miles outside St. Louis, so I’m in no need for that stimulation then.

I stopped at some gas station. Which was the same gas station I stopped at on Friday on my way down. (Seriously, you think I’m kidding about the nothingness that is the state of Illinois.) And that stop helped me for about a hot second and then I was back to being lulled to sleep by the pretty, white, fluffy things coming down from the sky.

But by then I was close enough to the City. And because I’m an idiot, I timed my arrival into the city limits right when the Bears game was kicking off. And nothing wakes me up like a shitload of traffic on a Sunday afternoon when I just want to get home.

Even this post?just tired me out. I can’t believe I have to go to work tomorrow. Next year, when I go down to The Lou to visit Rich, I’m taking the following Monday off. Which I should do tomorrow. But we have another sales conference the first week of December and well, I’ve um, not really done much of anything for it. Name badges? We don’t need no stinkin’ name badges.

Category: NaBloPoMo | 12 Comments »
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Posted By Kristabella on November 24, 2007

Get it? Because St. Louis is?the Gateway City. Isn’t it? Because the arch is the gateway to the west. Even though there is way more country west of the Mississippi than east of it. But the same philosophy applies to college athletics. Because God forbid a team west of the Mississippi were to be good. Because they’ll never get the votes. Because their games are on too late for old people like Lee Corso to stay up and watch. Because Lee Corso is an ass.

That’s all?I have. Seriously.

I got in last night about 5:30. I made good time. Ate cheese popcorn. Stained my fingers. Got a piece of a popcorn kernel stuck on my tonsil. No.?I did. And it was annoying. And I can only imagine what people on I-55 thought as the white Sentra flew down the expressway at 78 miles an hour with the crazy brunette driving with her finger in her throat. And she wasn’t even throwing up.

I left that to Rich. Because he started drinking at 1 and was trashed by the time I got there. And he must have added 10 more rum and cokes on top of that, so he doesn’t really remember anything past me getting there and LSU losing.

And then we tried talking football with the stupidest waitress. Who is convinced that Mizzou is number one now only because LSU lost. Keep in mind, the Mizzou/Kansas game hasn’t even taken place yet. And when we asked her about the Big 12 Championship game, she didn’t know and just said “we’re number one. LSU lost. See because, they were number one.”

And then my head exploded all over my French Dip sandwich. And I don’t like grey matter in my Au Jus.

So right now, I’m just recovering. I did finally change my clothes and showered. Rich is at the airport picking up the team. And I was put to work, checking on Mike Holmgren’s amenities in his phat suite. Complete with grand piano. And he gets a lot of booze. It’s good to be a head coach.

Maybe I should take a nap, seeing as the drinking is going to start in less than an hour.

What your glass of rum and coke looks like after you’ve had 12 and you’ve fallen off of your stool.

Category: NaBloPoMo | 14 Comments »
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