CHAPTER ONE: Ambitions

The fragrance of autumn was in the air. Leaves were garbed in the warm, crisp colors that Serena loved. However, despite the beauty of the scenery around her, Lady Serena Saranac was far too focused on her posture. For the past week, she’d let herself go, and she feared that it would take more than just a little effort to reassert her courtly mannerisms. Coming from a family such as hers, it would not do for her to be slouching and common when finally arriving in town – even if it was a town called Hog Swallow.

As her father often said, “It doesn’t matter where you are as long as you act as whom you are.”

Being a self-made success as he was, he had raised his daughter with as much self-respect and independence as his heart could allow, adding to the thrift and reputation of the Saranac name. No other merchants were as reliable, and no other merchants would find the wares you need.
You see, Serena’s most recent travel companions were gypsies. Regardless of their lively music and colorful garb, they were rather … bold. Or at least, bolder then Serena was accustomed to back at home in Melkredo. She imagined it would be prudent to break herself of any nasty habits she had acquired during the trip. She was all too aware that her posture had become far more casual then was appropriate for her in public.

Serena sighed, smoothing the front of her dress. It was a sturdy fabric, green, with satin trim for comfort. It had been made in the satin looms of Palisada for travelling Ladies, much like herself. At least, such as herself very recently. This was after all, her very first trade route without the company of her father.

Back at home, she had been plagued by chaperons and tutors, and had been viewed merely as a delightful curiosity. A wealthy merchant’s mixed-breed daughter, how adorable she had been! Having received the quirk of her grandmother’s kin, a pair of soft, gray cat ears instead of human ones, Serena had at times felt more like a pet then a daughter. But that had not stopped Serena’s father from playing the role of her protector. And it did not hide the obvious pedestal her father placed her on.

Thinking of her father immediately brought along with it thoughts of home. Serena found herself missing her homeland’s hilly landscape, dotted with tall, narrow trees, and the sprawling, beaten road that led to her father’s estate. She missed the temperate, year-round climate, and the sounds those night-birds made as she was falling asleep.

Not to say she hadn’t been enjoying herself during the trip. In fact, she’d been most surprised to see two fellows in the gypsy caravan with features similar to her own. One gentleman even had a tail, while the other had claws to match! They had all been very agreeable, and had greeted her as a sister! (This, though nice, had been mildly inappropriate.) And though sleeping in a wagon was not what she was accustomed to, it had provided a nice change, reminding her that there was always room to grow and experiences to have. During the trip, Serena had even come to appreciate the owls hooting away in the trees; a very different songbird, but a song from a bird none the less. Oh how at first it had frightened her!

It was no use to fret about it now, however. Especially considering what a persistent little nit she had been. It had taken a lot of negotiation to have a route to herself. Her father, Lord Alban Saranac had absolutely detested the idea of his little kitten going out into the world alone. But unfortunately for her doting father, she had inherited her mother’s charming looks, silver tongue, and stubbornness. And when Serena turned 18 the fact was unavoidable: she would have to go out on her own eventually. Why not sooner rather than later?

However, Serena could see that her father had more reasons for his hesitation than simply wanting her well protected. Perhaps he did not know how his little kitten would react to the world? Perhaps he didn’t think she was ready to finance her own business? Perhaps he was afraid that away from home, she would not have such a nice welcome into the life she’d chosen? Perhaps he feared it would be too rough on her? Or perhaps he simply thought eighteen years was still too young?

The later seemed unlikely though, because whenever she reminded him that he had started his enterprise at a whole year younger then she, he always gave the same response.

“I’m a Man, Serena, it’s different.” He would say, puffing out his chest and scowling without conviction at his spirited daughter. “World will be a hard place for a kitten like you.”

Serena sighed again, this time fondly as she reached up to replace a drifting strand of dark hair. It didn’t matter now. Thankfully, her Uncle Dorvik had also inherited the family tact. When the argument had escalated to a plateau, and neither Serena nor her father could make each other budge, Uncle traipsed in at just the right time. He then presented them with a simple idea which, if successful, would prove Serena’s worth as a business partner, as well as her own will to become an independent woman. And regardless of the asinine concept, it was well known that Uncle Dorvik’s strange ideas had been uncommonly profitable in the past.

The agreement was that Serena would take a smaller shipment, something her father would not be upset losing or being mis-priced. She would then deliver the goods to where she saw fit, in varying prices and quantities. It would be up to her to determine said prices, and as a result of any success, she would be able to keep the profits to go towards her own piece of the business.
That was, of course, if she managed to complete her Uncle’s task.

Her uncle Dorvik was eccentric at best, but overall a very knowledgeable man. He was a constant student, a philosopher of the fanciful; he delighted in cryptic anecdotes, and made things far too complicated. And in order to help Serena accomplish her dreams, all she had to do was find one man and procure from him information for her uncle.

According to Uncle Dorvik, the man in question “knew something very important” and that she would know he was the one she needed the moment she saw him.

There was no mention of apprehending the stranger, which Serena was glad of, but no other description either. The only other hint she had been given was the name of a small fishing town off the southern coast of Zyricon. Hog Swallow.

She imagined that her father saw that as humorous enough to let a woman try and run a business. Fie.

She would show both of them!

DUN DUN DUN!

Ladies and Gentlemen, as you will see from the Coutdown - I am down to the wire, by the skin of my teeth, a fraction away from the end of the challenge! I have a day and a half to write 12,000 words!

Imma gonna do it. Just you wait and freakin see. I will post up an update and you will revel along with me!

HUZZAH!

Oru

CHAPTER TWO: Mercenaries

Miras washed her hands in the creek beside their resting horses. Her hands gently smoothed the crystalline waters over her scars, and as in every time she did this ritual, she prayed to Araia for them to be washed away. Sometimes, if she closed her eyes, dipping her hands into the chill waters, she could almost imagine the pain returning to her; how the flames splashed up her arms, scalded the sensitive area about her shoulders and chest, and singed the fair flesh of her face and neck. Miras could remember how her throat tore from the screams and cries.

“Time to go, Miras.” Her master’s voice came to her over the splashing brook and gently caressed her ears.

Nodding solemnly, she cupped her hands and took one last sip of the refreshing clarity. His voice always chased away the visions of fire. His voice always soothed her anger. And she would follow his voice until the day she died.

Miras got to her feet, fluid as a cat, and cast her eyes about the small glen like a falcon searching for prey. It was clear. They could move on.

“Don’t you trust me yet, Miras? It’s safe to move on.” The voice once again chimed.

She nodded sheepishly, immediately coy.

“Nonsense.”

A hand fell onto her shoulder from behind, rested there and then pulled some of her stray black locks from her neck. Miras felt her shoulders relaxing from the barest touch from him. She did not see his face, not at this moment, but even in her mind it played the same effect on her. The grace of his elegant features, skin smoothed back and pulled into two pointed ears. Glimmering topaz for eyes, cherry blossom for lips, long fingers with the strength of a vice. Beauty and strength, wisdom and whimsy…

“I trust your eyes more than mine at this point, Miras. Allow me to at least poke fun at you out of jealousy of your skills?”

Miras found herself smiling, just the corner of her mouth quirking upwards at the notion. But when she heard him start to come around towards his horse, she immediately became stoic.

“As you wish, Juris.” Her voice croaked out. The damage had been done years ago, and though she had lived with the jibes and teasing all her life, only in his presence did she feel lessened. She detested the grinding, gravel scraping sound of her voice.

Miras took to checking the straps on her horse. As it was every time, she kept sneaking glances over to his. She was pleased to see him doing the same – making sure his two slender blades were still secure by the saddle bags; their supplies were undamaged from their hard ride.
But as with every time, she also found herself glancing at him.

Most Midlanders would have flat out called him an Elf, unknowing of the slight that name carried with it. MIdlanders, most of them grossly uneducated, simply meant it as another word for Fae; unknowing that the word had been ignited and spread by demons to get under their enemies’ skins. True Elves were pygmy sized, skeletal thin, mischievous little sprites that had a penchant for ladies undergarments and causing marital problems. Fae were divine creatures, created by Risael and Araia working as one. One could see the insult.

An ‘elf’ was a slang term for a half-fae, commenting on their lack of grace among their higher born brethren. The careless way in which it was flung around irked a great many of their kind. Miras also took insult to the use of this word, regardless of her rather plain human heritage.
Juris was a half-fae. But Miras did not care nor did she know that he was looked down upon by his Fae cousins. She did not know that he yearned for acceptance among them, though she knew sometimes he was sad because of it. She truly believed that no more beautiful creature existed.

But that was not why she loved him.

Down to the Wire

I have about 28,000 words at this moment.

I will tirelessly type at work, go home and type some more. I will type my weasly black guts out until I can type no more. And then I shall wake up tomorrow morning, do my thing, and type some more until I pass out at the keyboard (as per usual.)

And then I shall go to work on Christmas eve-morning and type until noon, then go home and enjoy the season, with intermittent typing to progress. And then I shall work at 8am on christmas morning and then enjoy the festivities as soon as I can get the heck outta here, and type some more. And then I shall go to sleep happy and contended, do you know why?

Because no one and no thing is going to prevent me from having a happy holiday. Not any one's parents, not my empty bank account, and not whatever my word count is. I will work as hard as I can as often as I can, and some day Karma will catch up to me and do as it sees fit.

I will Get to 60,000 words, and give the New Year a great big Kiss - accompanied by a giant middle finger and say,

"Give me your best shot, life. I dare you."

Oru

The Blues

I'm not sure how to begin this post.

I could start out with the good things. Everything that has come my way in my life: A good education, a wonderful, loving boyfriend, a caring (albeit 'overenthused') family, an awesome brother, wonderful experiences, carefree childhood, no significant mental or health issues....

Or I could start with the bad things.

I could even delve into a random conversation about Christmas and the holidays, and how silly it is that people feel they have to be nice ONLY on those days. Or the fact that it IS kinda nice how nice people can be in this season. Or even how crappy people can be durring this time of year and all year round.

But what exactly will that get me?

This blog, this little online hosted think-space is really just a point in the void. A tiny speck that doesn't truly exist except in pixels and coding. There is no material value to it. It's even a free hosted website. Sure, thats a good thing - one less thing we have to pay for in our long, drawn out, tormented lives... but after I stop writing in here, after I die and move on, this blog will inevitably be erased from the internet and no traces will remain. I will just have been a ghost on the web, haunting this address and whispering my phantom nothings into your brain.

And past that? Other then the loss of a few hundred typed words, what else could I leave behind? A cozy apaprtment that will be taken by someone else. A piece of crap car that I love, but will be turned immediately into scraps and spare parts. Some journals that could be locked away, burned, thrown out and occupying space in a landfill, or just simply forgotten.

Even if I am remembered past my life - what will thast benefit me? A statue in my name? A few published works, a fan site, maybe a biography of my life and times, if I'm lucky maybe a movie about it? That won't pay my bills, it won't throw a rope into my proverbial crap-hole and pull me out, now will it?

But I digress. Now it's time to wrap it up. I could exclaim that there's hope. There is always hope, and I believe fully in hope. I could say to myself that everything will be all right, and that there is, in fact, a light at the end of the tunnel.

But regardless of how strongly I believe that with every fiber of my silly, oru being... Who's to say that it's true?

"I guess I've got the Christmas Blues"
-Dean Martin

Time Management

1.) I am pretty bad at this :)
2.) I wish i had more time to work with.

Other then that, Time Management is a very important facet of every day. For example - today I need to get off of work at this Hotel, and then run to the bank, the post office, then to my other job to squeeze in an hour of work there to edit and print out labels for christmas cards.

After that, I hope to get some more words in today, make christmas Stockings and RP my weasley black guts out.

Nyuk.

Unfortunately, that is th eonly update that time will allow for me!

Enjoy!

Oru

Christmas Music

...Oh so overplayed.

One thing I never fully understood was the corporate obsession with drowning their businesses with Christmas music the day after Thanksgiving. It's one thing to put out your wares then, and maybe decorate, but something as contagious and sticking as the music? What kind of inhumanity is this? For the rest of November, throughout December and part of January, we will hear so many crappy variations of christmas classics that our ears will inevitably begin to bleed and burn out just for the desire to stop hearing it.

The other day, I heard a hip-hop/rap version of God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen. I nearly hit someone. The bastardization of my favorite carol did nothing but add to my stress level. THIS is why I will NOT personally listen to Christmas music until either 1. I am doing something specifically Christmas-y (wrapping presants, decorating, or maybe baking) or 2. The days OF Christmas, i.e. Eve and Morning. Other then those two situations I do not deign to listen, because my brain is already consumed with a distinct dislike of all the phooey on the radio.

And for those of us who work in an environment that does this? My sincerest Appologies. I feel your pain.

Oru

The Challenge

Happy Holidays everyone!

And now let me introduce the gift I am giving to myself: The Challenge.

Let me preface this with my recent trip to the bank. A lovely girl works there, her name is Aimee, and she is always sweet and kind and has a genuine smile for me when I come in to cash my checks. Offering me friendly suggestions and tips with her co-worker Diane, they led me to the cash-back option that I can use while spending money with my debit card (fun idea) and how state checks are cashed at her bank, and "what kind of change would you like?"

One day not too long ago, we struck up conversation, and the topic of NOMO came up. Perhaps the acronym is wrong, but I mean to accent National Novel Writing Month, November. She confided in me with pride in her eyes that she completed 57,000 words, and I gave her a giant grin and congratulations.

And so I told myself... If she can do it, while working full time 8-4 every weekday... Why can't I? Granted, November is done and over with, and I barely snuck out 1,000 words in my spare time, but whos to say that I can't do it any other time I like? For example... December?

So I decided to give myself a challenge. I set my chin, forced the self-pitying tears away from my eyes, and declared:

I will write 60,000 words by the end of December.

And I encourage you to join me on this adventure. I will try to post every day my word count and how I am doing. Perhaps even sneak in snippets of my work for your perusal.

Let the count begin:

23 days remain.

Word Count: 7,358

GO.

Holiday Wishes

Let me see, I shall start this entry with a short list. Maybe two.

Top 10 things to receive for Christmas, From Oru's Perspective. 9In no particular order):
1. Money
2. Hand made, thoughtful tokens
3. Games of any shape, size, or variety
4. Food
5. The Promise of a Good Time
6. Books, Journals, or writing implements
7. Household Necessities - even gift cards for such
8. Pets or critters
9. Alcoholic Beverages in fancy bottles
10. Letters in the Mail

Top Worst Gifts In Oru's Known History:
1. Cheesy Ties.
2. Underwear
3. Severely religious paraphernelia
4. Lectures
5. Sea-shell filled, gold studded, white decorative plungers
6. Highly toxic, decorative, obscenely superfluous oriental serving bowls
7. Anything you feel obligated to wear at a later point that is so obviously not your style. (IE the Weasley's hand knit sweaters)
8. REALLY expensive things.
9. School Supplies
10. Bad News.

In any case. Now that this little portion of today has been concluded...

I hope all of you have a fantastic time preparing for the holidays - getting the tree, lighting the candles, inviting the friends over, sending and receiving cards and letters. Remember, this is the time of year that should be ALL YEAR ROUND. But, for those of you who need an excuse to be nice, pleas edon't pass up this opportunity.

Many Happy Returns

Oru

Short Writing Sample

This is the kind of writing I have been doing lately. A lot of it distantly correlates tt he Role Playing sessions I indulge in. Please enjoy this next piece.
~*~

Before you are the sands. Even now, in the fading hours of the day, the heat rolls off of it like rain off of oiled canvas. It caresses your face and pools in your heart like dark water after a flood. What is that feeling that stirs in your chest? That emotion that pulls up the hairs on the back of your neck, and raises your flesh into goosebumps? It is unavoidable now. Through the apprehension instinctively rising in the back of your throat, that emotion digs in its claws and bleeds you to take firm hold.

If your eyes were to roam over the twilight shining dunes, catching wisps of spirits picking up and dancing in the sand, you would know. You would understand the sprawling nothing that stretches before you. Like a great cat mid-slumber, dreaming of its latest catch, talons clinging to the fringes of civilization. If you listened close enough you could hear the great creature breathing, many lungs heaving and dropping with a gust of wind. Skin crawling with unrest. For such a creature was never meant to be dormant. It was never meant to be caged by cities and roads. And if you stretched out your senses, just a fraction before your noses towards it, you could feel it there.

The anger.

The anger of a wolf denied its prey. The anger of a disturbed hornet’s nest. The fury to dwarf the rage any man could fit in his heart. For this rage spans miles and miles over the vast emptiness of the desert. This rage waits, lurking past the dunes to ensnare you. Dry you up and dissolve you into powder. Take from you’re your hope, your faith, and your life. Take what you have to feed it’s anger, feed it until one day this mighty beast raises it’s shriveled head and roars into the sky of the civilized present to grind darkened thoughts in the mind of every man, women and child. It would speak to them all, and utter merely one phrase.

I am still here.
But for now, you stand watching it. As if watching a lion at the zoo; complacent. Almost welcoming you with the beauty of the sun setting over the sandy hills, alighting the sky with such vibrancy of colors the likes of which you have never seen. Beckoning you to tread it’s back in search of your purpose, in search of your goal.

All the while grinning, Cheshire in it’s malice, and angelic in the simple innocence of it, as if certain there is something it knows – and you do not. As if the goal you seek is not on it’s great back at all – but behind rows and rows of glimmering teeth.

Seasonal Blues

We all know that there are things about this upcoming season that have the potential to bring us down. Debt, family problems, employment (or lack thereof for some) the idea of not being about to buy gifts for the ones you love....

Unfortunately, in these dark times, the list can go on FOR MILES, all depending on the individual contributing to the pile. what I will attempt to do in THIS post, is come up with as many positive things as I can. Of course, you may not share my enthusiasm about some things, but give it a shot and add some things to my list. i DARE you. Comment on what YOU like. Do it. Double DOG dare you.

1.) The Decorations. Maybe it's just me, but a house seems to maintain even more warmth in it when christmas lights are gleaming gently in the snow, and a tree is glowing in the window. Homey touches like wreaths or garlands are a simple idea - but can transform a room into a cozy little den.

2.) Positive Karma. Maybe it's just me (you'll hear a lot of that) but the idea of doing good to others, especially in this time of year where people ARE feeling morose and lonely, makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. ESPECIALLY if they deserve it. And hey - do unto others as yu would have them do unto you, right? Right.

3.) Snow. Yeah I know some of you ABSOLUTELY HATE IT... but think of it this way. While you are warm, huddled under blankets and watching a movie or drinking coffee or coacoa... you can't tell me that gently falling snow, covering the earth outside your window ISN'T pretty? And I like pretty.

4.) Snowball fights. Who doesn't like pelting each other with harmless (mostly) balls of white fluff, running around all stuffed with scarves and layers, falling over your booted feet, and laughing as you are bombarded with dozens of snowballs!?! You can't even DISGUISE that kind of fun! AND who wouldn't want the chance to pelt someone ELSE with a snowball?

5.) Snow statues. I say snow statues because a good portion of the time I find myself making snow DRAGONS. I've heard other people do this, so I don't feel quite as bizarre. But if you're an artist - you've just made a completely unique piece that is fleeting and beautiful. No one will ever see it again, which makes it all the more lovely. Then again, if you're just having fun, and it turns out all poopy, then it'll melt in a few days and be out of your sight.

6.) Hot beverages, roaring fires and fluffy blankets. Nuff said.

7.) Snow days. To those who still get them, RELISH THEM.

8.) BAKED GOODS. There are so many of them, in such great quantities, one cannot look and find a place without chocolate chip, oatmeal, funny shaped sugar cookies, spice cookies, lemon bars, macaroons, rum balls, pecan clusters, apple pie, pumpkin pie, all those other delicious, fresh, hot pies, delectibles from every side of the spectrum!!! *sigh*

9.) Sales! For those more practical - the holiday sales. Price cuts for gift giving season. Whats not to like? May as well get some groery shopping done while you're at it, eh? :)

10.) Staying in Touch. Sure it's silly that you only talk to this person or that person once a year - and it's inside the fold of a cheesy Christmas card.. but it's the thought that counts, and if they didn't care just a little, why waste the 44 cents? Why bother even sending one at all? It's just nice to get them sometimes, ESPECIALLY when you feel alone and lonely this holiday season.

I think 10 is a nice round number. What can YOU come up with?

And a greater challenge yet? What can YOU do to help someone elses Holiday be EVEN better? Think about it. What harm can it do?

Oru

Hazing

So we have this girl at the hotel, works housekeeping. Due to the manager's recent random push to "give her employees recognition" (more on that later) she decided to revive the employee of the month program. This girl received it, for which we were all confused, but glad it was at least someone as sweet as her.

Which was the first thing we did to ostracize her from the rest of her hispanic friends.

Now, there was this other woman, older, more experienced (I imagine) who we had originally begun to train as my replacement as Housekeeping Supervisor Assistant. She is also a sweet lady, however, she just couldn't get the room assignment right. something about being able to read the text in the computer program wasn't working for her. Perhaps she just couldn't read English as well as she could speak it? In any case, we trained her for about a week, and then had to decide against using her as my replacement. A friend of the first Girls (We shall call the first girl "A".)

So of course, when we decided to train A, I believe that was the second step in ostracizing poor A from the rest of the girls who may have thought that girl B deserved the position more - or maybe just liked B more.

Then of course, we completed A's training (VERY pleased at how good she was at checking the rooms when they were finished) And set her up for her first day - a Sunday.

Classically speaking, Sundays are oneof the businest days during the summer. Wedding parties all check out at the same time, leaving housekeeping with an amazing amount of rooms to clean entirely from top to bottom. a good portion of the time, we're sold out. Now, this isn't the summer, however, we did happen to have 3 weddings in house for whatever reason, and out of 110 rooms available for rent, 97 of them were occupied and/or checking out. Which is a big chunk.

Maybe just the fact that A had to work by herself, or that she actually got the chance to was the third time we successfully ostracized her from the rest of her housekeeping companions. In any case, I come to work the front desk at 10am and discover that two girls in housekeeping had simply walked out. Dropped their assignment sheets, made a huff out of nothing, and left. Leaving each girl with 16/17 rooms as opposed to the average 1 -12. This change will get all the girls out at 5pm, as opposed to the checkin time for the hotel which is 3pm.

One girl looked down at her sheet, huffed to A that she had 'too many rooms', tossed the sheet back down and left. The second girl did something a little different.

Due to the manager's obsession with constricting everything about the hotel and micromanaging every single freakin aspect of it, she demands that every girl punches in EXACTLY at the time their sheet says they start working. so to prevent early punch-ins, Shiela will take their time cards with her, and then distribute them when they are SUPPOSED to punch in. Naturally, she told A to do the same.

Apparently the second walker got angry, saying she was never told not to punch in early, and that she does it all the time (Which is crap, she's never early when I work) and proceeded to say she didn't want to work here anymore, and simply walked out with Antonia.

why couldn't they just try to make it easier? Aren't they friends? Or are they just cruel to make her first day alone that much harder? Having to discipline and check up on people she used to work with is hard enough. You'd think they would have the common decency to at least be supportive.

Thankfully, the housekeepers that I loved and love were. E as I call her, a shorter, infinitely sweet and compassionate woman, simply smiled and said it was ok that she got 5 extra rooms. The others sighed and nodded their acceptance as I knew and hoped they would.

So what is this? I know the last lady, A1 I'll call her, had been trained and thrown in at the same instance, and she too received FAR too many troubles for her work. Is it some kind of Hazing process? Hell, even I got the short end of their housekeeping stick. Girls call out and don't show up when they think it will teach someone a lesson when they think it's appropriate.

The worst part? Our ever-loving manager will shout and scream at them and tell them they're done and out... but as soon as they come crawling back, mocking tears and babbling in half-spanish mumbo-jumbo, she gets all soft in the eyes and orders, no, commands us to give them more hours.

*twitch* Chew on that.
Oru

Grievances

What are the top five things people complain about? Lists of Grievances are as old as time and as ever: ignored. Mostly. So, what is it that hets under most everyone's skin? I've compiled a list of things that people usually fuss about and my own personal suggestions for taking deep breaths and looking past them. Granted, I'm sure the last two are more my personal gripes, but whatever, hehe.

1.) Money
Regardless of how much you have, or where you get it from, it never seems to be enough. (For the average JOE that is.) You can work until your back breaks, but you'll STILL have to pay off your loans, insurance, bills, etc... And for those of us truly blessed enough to have FAR less then what you need to keep yourself above the surface, it becomes not only a pet peeve, but a problem.
Something that I take comfort in is that It could always be worse. I know. Optimistic, right? But think of it this way while you're climbing the corporate ladder - you have your health, your friends and family to spot you, so try not to get too crazy. Besides - you can't buy everything.

2.) Your Job.
On the same vein, the thought that you are obligated to work in a place you hate soley for the reason that you NEED the paycheck because of Gripe number 1 is amazingly annoying. The idea that someone younger, or less qualified, or less intelligent, or cruel, or just plain dumb is your boss? Thats just infuriating. Especially if it's not particularly demanding and you're bored out of your mind. Or it's TOO demanding and you have no energy to do the things you like afterwards.
Something I like to do to help myself out? Adjust as many personal thingsa as you are allowed to do. Change the desktop background on the computer to a picture you like. If you have to wear a uniform, try making adjustments: different colored socks, bracelets, earrings, pins, fun ties, anything. OR just simply make the best of it. Enjoy the customers if you can, be pleasant, because believe it or not, if YOU are pleasant, the chances of OTHER people being pleasant to you increases dramatically!

3.) Your Health.
By this I mean allergies, sleep patterns, things like that. I imagine it's absolutely wretched to have those seasonal allergies where everything on your face gets puffy and gross, or you have runny sneezy nose, or tearing - it's not attractive, you feel gross, etc...
Distraction from this? Invest in benadryl! Or, try to at least put your condition to good use - it makes a legitimate excuse to avoid people you don't like in social situations, get out of work, or be spoiled by your significant other! It will at leqst make it bearable!

4.) Bad Drivers.
Chief complaint! I do it all the time. The best advice? Think about the delightful Karma that they will receive later on for cutting you off in traffic! Huzzah!

5.) Really Lame Movies.
There is nothing quite as dissapointing as paying 10 dollars to see a movie whose previews looked AMAZING, only to be staring in disbelief at the end of the film, realizing it was a waste of time. Plot? what plot? Script? Who wrote THAt mess? Acting? WHAT acting!!?!?
When confronted with this kind of Cinematic let-down, I simply sigh, sit back, and laugh. Because, how delightful is it that those poeple put so much money into their project and then get barely enough in profits back to make ends meet? I feel that it allows them to look back and reflect on the crap of the film and learn their lesson.

Tedium

No matter how many days off in a row you get, it never fails to dissapoint you all the more when you finally return to work. It's as if you thought the time would allow whoever was stioud to get smarter, or whoever was an asshole to develop a conscious. However - as much as a delight that would be - as well as an improvement on the quality of your life - it never happens.

In fact, usually when you return you hear all of the BS drama that occured in your absence, and that one of your very favorite co-workers was fired because they couldn't work a Saturday. Or that your boss faught with another boss nearly non stop because they were pompous or something, or that everyone's grouchy because of this or that, or that yes indeed, regardless of the fact that it is SUNDAY the boss will inevitably come in for all of 10 minutes just to yell at you and tell you how shitty everyone is here, and that we can't tel anyone she bitches (though we do) because it's apparently HER right to be inappropriate and unprofessional.

The bright side of your day so far? All the girls you need to clean the rooms showed up on time, and you got a new spiffy lint-roller on a stick that rinses off and is uber helpful.

Thats when you know you need something better in your life.

Oru

Well then!

Enough of that mopeyness! The feeling is rising on the horizon, grinning with jack-o-lantern teeth and dark little skelleton eyes - The divine beauty of fantastical fun that is HALLOWEEN!!

Ahh yes, the joyous time is nearly upon us! ALAS! I have myself a dilema!

...WHAT AM I GOING TO BE?

From last year I have a leftover Aviator, although I must dig up and discover the hat I purchased for it, as well as find the goggles that were lots of fun... Or, I have plenty of medieval goodies, however I feel that I overdo them sometimes, and am having trouble making them seem new and interesting. I have a Griffin - yes, a griffin - but it is in dire need of repairs.

My Love and I are thinking of going as 'Jack' and "Angel doll" from the Plucker Novel/illustrated book by Brom. A Fascinating set of characters - however, if that is the case, I most certainly have to get cracking! Lots of ghoulish things to do!

One thing to share, a fun halloween treat I love to make - Rice Crispie pumpkins!

1. Create rice crispe treats verbatim from the back of the box of rice crispies. BUT:
2. While the marshmallow is completely melted, THAT is when you add a combination of red and yellow dye to create a festive orange! (I would suggest a touch more yellow then red, as to prevent PINK pumpkins.)
3. Continue until the rice crispies are totally coated in orange marshmallow goodness, then take out in small clumps and roll into balls.
4. After the ball is rolled, stuck your thumb in one side, and take one of those green spearamint gummy leaves you so often find at shoprite or gasstations, and upt it in the hole you just made.
5. Situate them on the tray and enjoy!

HOpefully more fun things to follow!

Oru

What to Write

I had an amazing post here and now it's gone.

I hate life.

Fantasmagorical!

Ah! And so the progression of my life takes another step forward towards the void!

*trumpets please.*

I have recently become lucky enough (and thusly blessed by the gods) to receive the opportunity to work at one of the very best Haunted Outdoor Attractions on the East Coast! "Headless Horseman Hayrides" Here I come!

Well - more likely Vini Vidi Vici... Whether it is spelled correctly or not.

You see I had the fortuitous interview on Thursday past. I drove in, stood in a semi circle of other perhaps-fortunates to listen to the General Manager - a gent by the name of Darren - explain some fone facts of the place. It has been in operation for 18 years now, they employ off-duty policemen to protect their staff (Of which they are VERy protective) and they have approximately 200 employees out of 600 received applications this year alone. They rank in the top 13 haunted attractions of the East coast, I believe, and the very bestest in something else!

And then I return home. Thinking "well at least I know where the place is now - and huh, it isn't that far from my house!" Lo and behold, on Friday afternoon, I receive another call - From the aforementioned Darren satying, "We'd LOVE to have you with us this year! Come on in tomorrow night at 5:30 so we can figure out where to put you. Oh, and wear ALL BLACK. Thanks!"

Excitedly, I hurried through my days, wondering just HOW much fun I was going to have. Following the scant directions that followed in a subsequent message from darren, I went to the employee lot, and got out of my car, beginning to trudge towards 'The Chalet'.

Of course, I have no idea where I am going. So after beseeching of a fellow Headless for assistance, being a humble n00b myself, I arrive at the costume cottage lovingly titled 'The Chalet'. My trail brings me to the innards of costume-make-up central. After approximately 30 seconds of standing, a shorter lady with spikey hair and thick round glasses stares at me. And stares for just a second, a flash of time.

"Hey. You're tall. You'd be good in ___ costume."

[[details censored for the sake of the surprise factor.]]

Then of course I take turns coming in, getting paperqwork, going back outside, hanging out with a friend of mine's mother whom was also working there, then going back inside, asking questions, coming outside with my costume, struggling into it, and waiting, then walking, then being blind, then being able to see, then being blind, then holding very very still.

ANDTHENSCARINGTHEPANTSOFFOFEVERYONETHATWALKSBYMWHUAHAHAHAHA!

So Yeah.

Come to Headless Horseman and be scared by your very own Oru.

:)

Oru

Funny Story

SO, funny story via HGI.

I was doing housekeeping (like I do) and I get called into the office to listen to a 'really upsetting' message. And as we both listen in (myself in curiosity, my manager in complete outrage,) I hear a Mr. 'M' regale us with the tale of his stay.

He claims everything seemed all right. He was satisfied with everything until he discovered that the mirror in his bathroom HAD NOT BEEN CLEANED! *gasp* It LOOKED clean, there were no SPOTS to notice, however, when he left the relative safety of his steaming hot morning shower, he was aghast to find that there were, in fact, traces of filth.

Do you want to know how he knew? I'll tell you.

As he stepped out of the shower and into the steamed up room, the condensation on the mirror made way for something that had been written by a previous temporary resident of the room. It read...

"I am watching you."

And as My manager looks at me with the face that says, 'That is the worst possibel thing I can think of THIS DAY, and you better come up with something to make it right'... I do my damndest to suck back th elaughter that wants to peal forth from my lips, and I tuck back the edges of my mouth so they don't form a goofy grin.

Because honestly - THATS just funny.

Oru

Karma

How do you measure Karma? How much is given before shit is taken away, exactly? Do I have to start walking old ladies across the street? Reading to orphans (Which would be fun, ad mittedly) or donating my lifesavings (which isn't much) to charities? Or am I at the point that only donating a kidney to a complete stranger will get me out of this miserable hole? Because I like my kidneys. Both of them. They're mine.

I consider myself a mildly selfish person. Granted, I don't steal and I don't cut in line, but I have been known to tell some white lies, and I have been known to do on occasion what is best for me. I like to laugh and I like to have a good time, and yes, I do make fun of random strangers on occasion too. I am not 100% a good person. Then again, no one is, are they?

Now I'm trying to figure out what exactly I did to piss off the cosmic Gods of "HATEYOURLIFE" in order for me to have aquired a bug problem from the rodents that share the eaves of my attic space appartment. Or not even - if they were bugs that DIDN'T share a sleeping space with me I would not be quite as put out. In fact, If they didn't CONSUME MY BLOOD in my SLEEP leaving red welts up and down my arms, neck, and back, oh and my legs and belly, I wouldn't be half as frustrated with my life.

And thats just it - OTHER then that, I'm doin' grand! It's great! Sure I can't spend any much money on fun times because I have to save in order to dig myself out of a financial hole but OTHERWISE I have a man I love, an adorable appartment, a working vehicle and a steady job. So WHY is THIS crashing around my head now?

So back to my original question - Whose ASS do I have to kiss to get a bit of leverage around here?

Oru

Business

How many of you have postulated for hours on a single amazing concept for your ideal job? I have many many interesting deliberations on the nature of my ideal small buisness - were I to own one. A B & B, a Comic Shop, a Summer Camp, a Gamer's lounge that wasn't a craphole, heck, I've even absently pondered selling snippets of rhyme on a street corner. Why not?

Imagine how much nicer life would be if we could work the jobs we wanted? How much LESS stress there would be in the world? How much less teeth grindng, finger picking, nail biting, hives springing up, sleep being deprived, frustrated tears, aggitated fights with the ones you love, ditching your friends to work or sleep and complain there would be??

And though I would never get accepted for a small buisness loan, THT is why I would want to try and take oneo ut. There's gatta be something I can do that I love that will actually pay me, right?

Right?

Oru

Stable Insecurity?

I am so happy right now.

I have a place of my own, steady income, a man who loves me, creative outlets, and tons of friends and family nearby. Socially and mentally speaking I am fantastic. I have vivid dreams (haha) and fun ideas, I create worlds and peoples and I step into their shoes to unwind from reality. I get along with most of my co-workers, laugh and smile a lot, have wonderful neighbors and a lizard that is mind-numbingly entertaining. I am physically healthy and suffer no lon-term ailments other than pretty crappy vision, and I've been told that I'm a sweet kind of attractive. I don't have anything about my body to complain about (Mentally is another story, hehe) and I am satisfied with my wardrobe. I also have amazing sex, which is very, very healthy I hear.

MOnetarily speaking... I suppose thats where the insecurity comes from. Those minor expenditures, and those major purchases that are necessary for my continued happiness (IE Gas, rent, The Pill, groceries, oil changes, painkillers & cold meds, the $1.65 I pay every few days for a tea and therefore internet, etc...) seem to get in the way of those major monthly payments that cover all the minute details I learned/didn't learn in College. They say nothing is free? Well unfortunately in my case thats about 95% true. The whole experience of school is costing me approximately 50,000 in the long run - not including interest.

Why on earth does it cost so much to learn? Who the hell thought of that? What kind of arrogant idiot thought he could monopolize an education? We learn for free every day. Should our parents start chargind us for when they teach us to tie our shoes, or ride our bikes? What makes higher education so damned expensive? And what the hell did I waste my money on? Maybe the C in Math, or the B in Memoirs? Or maybe I'm paying for the parties I went to after each show I was in? Or the few times I operated a metal cutter? Or how about this: "The College Experience?" Did I really just PAY for friendship and comradrie? Am i STILL paying for it? Because if thats all it was, it was barely BARELY worth it.

a.) True friends are free, and I like to think of my college friends as very true. So I should get a discount for that.

b.) I got C's in Math all the freakin time, so I apparently learned nothing there. discount.

c.) I've BEEN to better parties both before AND after college, so it wasn't exactly a learning experience OR worth that much cash. Discount there.

d.) If I recall, the metal cutting gig was actually VOLUNTEER. DISCOUNT ME.

e.) And the College Experience? The extenuation of high school mixed in with a longer drive from home and living on one's own? I've BEEN to summer camp, thank you, done that. Gimme a damned discount!

So I am happy. Truly, very happy with my situation. Now to be SECURE... well, Lemme re-iterate our dear friend from "The Continuation - The Conclusion" ...

Stripping, egg donating or winning the lottery would just be grand. (The later prefered, thank you.)

Oru

Aches and Pains

Tell me if you've experienced this.

You work a few days in a row - about 5. Early morning, you wake up after a late night (Because when else will you be able to socialize?) The Am doesn't seem to agree with you, and you bicker back and forth to try and free your trembling and exhausted muscles. You bargain - I'll take a shower if you just relax? Or I'll eat some breakfast if you pry my eyes open a little? You then drive to your job, windows open, music blaring, anything to keep yourself awake, and when you do get there, you pry yourself out of the driver's seat and trudge inside to report for duty, as it were.

And then the standing starts. And from the heels and flat of your foot to your knees, to your hips and to the base of your spine, and from there to between your shoulderblades and down the crook of your elbow, and the base of your skull oozes up this dull, uncomfortable throb. You find yourself shifting your weight, pacing, trying to shift the ache, dislodge it, distract yourself from it, but it doesn't seem to work. And when you look at the clock you realize that only about 2 hours of your 8 hour shift have gone by and you barely think you're gonna make it.

Anyone with me on this?

I think it's both keeping wonky hours and the amount of stress that keeps you tossing and turning at night. Those bouncing, unruly thoughts in your noggin are just as tiring as running a marathon, and when both ming AND body are exhausted, well what can you do?

I indulge in some nightly RP. (Yes. I do. I am proud of it, thank you.) I escape for a little while, and while that adventure is still in my head, I konk out, unable to keep my eyes open any longer. Or, for those of you less nerd-inclined, pop in a movie and watch until your eyes close and you dream about whats going on in the film. Or, if you have the capability (which I don't) take a nice hot bath, burn some scented candles, or play video games. OR you can be like my brother and go beat something up, chop down a tree, or build a rock wall.

Bottom line - SOME form of stress relief is KEY to better, happier life.

And less aches and pains.

Oru

Dreams

Last night was a bad night.

I suffer from an overactive imagination. I will constantly zone out to song imagining epic scenescapes, doodle on my front desk paperwork, hum nonsense to myself, and yes, even roleplay with others to escape this 'reality' around me. (The suffocating mass that it is.) It is not uncommon for me to jump at a shadow after I try to freak out the otherplayers, yelp at a bug that brushes my cheek, or get edgy and near-hysterical after a particularly freaky movie. However, as with those things, I tend to recover rather quickly, and laugh at myself in a relative good-nature with those around me.

That being said, I'm sure it's not a very big surprise that I have very vivid dreams. I love my dreams. A good portion of the time, they treat me very well - gifting me with flight, or the ability to fend off legions of monsters or zombies, or even throw lightning. (You know, the cool stuff.) And yes, that goes the same for nightmares. My Love would tell you that I do, on occasion, wake up ina panic and pull him closer to protect myself from these ill-spirits I harbor. There have been a nice colorful handful involving blood and gore, the loss of loved ones, being chased with no escape - the usual stereotypes.

This last one I have never had before. Nothing like it, nothing I could even compare it to. Which is what kept me up for an hour or two after the jolt and panic and reaching for my Love like a life line.

Imagine yourself in bed, curled up on your side, with your Love's arm draped over your side and holding you close. Very nice. You'd had a migraine earlier, but he got you a cool rag and rubbed your temples until the pain became nothing more then a dull throb. An annoyance, really. So you shut your eyes, having stayed up tossing and turning from that annoyance until ungodly hours, pleased as punch that you'll get at least 4 hours of sleep for work the next day.

Then imagine yourself waking up in your dark room and you cannot move. The arm on your side is suddenly a hundred pounds and crushing you. And something intrinsic and instunctual tells you with a loud warning - this is not your love. Trying to turn your head is a painful process, forget about opening your mouth to scream. Not even a whisper can make it past the pressure in your side, and the sudden imposing darkness around you. Another thought, one that dwarfs thwe worry of your love is that your window is totally dark. Where lights from construction workers should be filterng in, there is nothing. So in your mind, you revert to the way of a child, the dependable methods of make-believe and say to yourself, If I close my eyes and go to sleep, it will all go away.

So you do. And you wake up. And imagine that everything seems normal. In fact, more then normal. You know that feeling you get, lets say after a wild party, and your body is so exhausted but you have to wake up in an hour, so you decide on a nap? Well the feeling after the alarm buzzes in your ear, and your body throws out a protest of aching joints, trembling limbs and the fear of the sudden jolt thudding in tune to your heart in your ears? Eyes blurred and straining, burning beneath the sockets as your body screams at you for being an idiot? Well, you wake up like that, thinking somehow your alarm went off. And of course, you panic, because if your alarm went off and it's not going right now then you are going to be REALLY late.

But then you can't move your arm. Imagine that as soona s you look down to see it, the weight returns to your side. And the dream repeats verbatim, and you think it's so real; the dryness of your mouth, the aching in your eyes, the claminess of your skin. So you think, maybe this time...

And then Imagine you wake up. And then imagine the intensity progressing deeper and deeper with each opening of your eyes to view this dark new world your subconscious has concocted. In flashes, compacting each following despair, each awakening into a short clip so that instead of fallign asleep, it feels like merely blinking your eyes and the scene resets. And you know all of this, you know it's happening, so at one point you try so hard, straining against your unconscious bonds to wake up. Just wake up!

And the arm on your waist gets tighter, and as you try to fight the dream, it's fighting you, pushing you harder, shifting shadows at just the right moment, having your Love's hands curl into desperate claws, and having you see out of your peripherals as you struggle his empty eyes staring ever forward, mouth slack-jawed and expression lost.

It feels like hours, waking and sleeping and waking and sleeping, and delerious with such the cries begin, from deep in your throat, and then from your belly, and the pitch goes up in a plea for help that noone but the shifting shadows answer. They only squeeze tighter around your waist, pressing from one side to break youi in half, and you start to curl around it, thrash against it, flail your arms to grab at your nightstand, the image int he mirror by your bed laughing, legs twisting in the reflection like shadowy snakes, toes hissing and turning on your laughing body, then you turn your eyes away, what else can you do? So you reach for the clothes on the floor and they melt away from your outstretched fingertips, and the arm squeezes, and so you curl around it, pulling your knees up close, expecting your own feet to consume you, and your hands reach up to pull on your hair to wake you, yanking violently, ripping and tearing,and the shriek in your throat comes out like the last dying breath of an animal, that blood curdling, bone chilling last noise as the breath whooshes fitfully out of your lungs...

And then Imagine waking up.

Oru

"Room with a view of HELL"

Tales from the Shift. Though I enjoy regaling you with stories of the folly of my workplace, I feel it is somewhat overdone. Then of course, I discover I don't really have anywhere else to talk about, and end up doing it anyway. Like right now!

Housekeeping is the bane of my existance. Yes. It is a large black dragon that sucks the life out of me and incinerates me with a belch just before laughing and growling into the ash-filled sky. Yes I know. You don't get the reference, but thats ok. The point is - It is the bane of my existance.

So of course, I agree to do it every sunday and monday until a 'replacement' is 'found'. Which naturally means that they would have to be 'looking' for 'someone' to take the job. And of course none of the current housekeepers are really 'qualified' to 'handle' such a 'delicate' position.

Translation: "Hey Jess, We are FAR too cheap and FAR too lazy to actually LOOK for someone - so that means YOU are stuck with it until someone MIRACULOUSLY comes along."

...

This, usually, would be fine. Better pay, wonky hours, whatever. However, that is not the case. The extenuating circumstances - namely the troll in residence's horrific mood swings and personal sh*t invading the workspace, as well as the sincerely NOT dependable task force of the housekeeping staff itself - AS WELL AS the ever-obnoxious, repetetive, name-changing, slow minded houseman that does things JUST to annoy you - Make it a job that is seriously 100% NOT worth the stress.

I can see why the last girl had a nervous breakdown and started crying in the housekeeping office. It is, in fact, rediculous. I, myself have been throwing my application around like candy to anyone who will take it from me - and leaving it stuffed in mailboxes for those who won't. You know what I think it is? And I didn't think about this until a friend of mine pointed it out.... but maybe I am overqualified. And perhaps my previous paychecks are not within most employer's price ranges? I personally think it's the economy and the state of it ... (i.e. crap) ... but naturally, in those stressed-out, high-strung, eye-twitching moments, I can't help thinking that this sh*t hole is the only place that will take me.

Which, if you worked here, would depress you even more. I apologize.

WHich brings me to the rant of the day: (which will not be expanded upon further then the next sentence, at least on here)

WHY does every single freakin HOUSEKEEPER have some sort of injury they don't realize they have until either a: They're already 20 minutes late, b: they've only done 2 out of f*ck-knows-how-many rooms or c: their friend has a day off mysteriously when their shoulder craps out?

Grr.

Oru

Brilliant Days

I am not as eloquent as my friend who constructs the Imaginarium Terrarium. I don't find myself as interesting as the delightful mind behind The Continuation - The Conclusion. And I am most certainly not as savvy as Young, Broke and Married. As a matter of fact, I'm really not sure what it is i bring to Blogspot that would pull me out among thousands of like-minded individuals. There are tons more people with far better word form then I, better grammar, helluva better spelling, and probably of a happier disposition... I am convinced that my friends love me far too much to indulge in reading this in their off time - but I thank them TONs for doing so.

Today is the kind of day where I want to succeed in something. Not just making it through the day or doing well in a job I hate. I want to do something I love and look back at it and feel that delicious sense of accomplishment that comes with so few things now a days. It is Brilliant outside. Sunny, with gusting winds that throw your hair freakin everywhere. JUST enough cloud cover to sometimes give you a moment of shade. Picnic? No problem. Badminton? of course! Poetry beneath your favorite tree? Naturally! This is one of those days that I want to get a better job and lift my chin in pride for being able to afford everything on my own. This is one of those days where I want to write something that is worth your time reading this.

Times like this I want to be able to wow you.

And sometimes I feel like I am able. My fingertips practically explode on contact with this keyboard, and floods will power through the circuitry and bloom in muddy waves on the shores of this cyberspace meeting ground.

Then of course, there are days like today where I feel like I'm simply writing the same things over and over. Should I erase this whole thing and start b*tching about work, instead? It might be funny! But I do that all the time in REAL life, why would I want to just keep beating a dead horse?

Originally, I tried to come up with a theme for this blog. On this cursed Brilliant Day, I've decided that the theme is redundant emo-ness.

I apologize. So. Much.

Oru

Drift

Prepare for a bit of rambling.

When I suffer from a lack of sleep, I tend to let my mind wander where it shouldn't supposed to. I'm usually there to hold it's hand. But like a negligent parent - in mysleep deprived stupor, I don'teven think about where it is.

Until It stumbles and falls down the stairs - or wanders outside. This is where the bizarre analogy ends though. Because when my mind falls down the metaphorical set of stairs, I kind of just watch it. Like I'm in a drug induced coma. (Ok, that part could be compared to a REALLY negligent parent.) I wait in terror for it to hit the bottom and stop moving. Wondering if it will, in fact, die. Or in the case of my mind anyway - Maybe surrender. Give in. Like a car crash. They say if you remain totally relaxed, you suffer less damage. Or something.

But the falling itself? Fallingis always fun. It'sthe landing people don't like. Which I tend to agree with in physical terms. But mentally? I think landing provides closure, don't you?

But I digress. And if the childof my mind were to wander outside - UNLIKE the negligent parent scenario, it's reallymore of an awestruck fascination. I wonder where it will meander to - and sometimes It could sit for hours staring at one brilliant thought, one glimmering hope, or one shining idea. And those moments are the verty best part about being sleep deprived.

The end.

Oru

Slow Burst

It blossoms in the back of my mind
a thought like a solarflare
lashing out and then slowly,
like the lingering orb of
light
after the flash goes off,
descends, and illuminates
and roils
and thrums
in the Earth at my feet
trembling my bones against
cages of sinew
muscle
flesh
blood
and meat.

To My Dear Followers,

Not many of you read my blog, I understand. However, to those that do - let's take a moment to wish one of my greatest followers (The one, the only, the currently damaged but healing Flisser) A speedy, mostly painless, and drug induced recovery!

This is a lesson.

And I hate it that it takes a friend eating handlebars to wake us up, here. You see, a good portion of the time I find myself doing the "Well if they want to hang out, they'll call me," thing. Neglecting the fact that I want to see these people, I find ways to content myself in thinking that they will talk to me when they want to hang out.

The lesson here? CALL PEOPLE. I'm going to do my best to return the favors of people calling me, and checkin in on me, and just showing a general interest.... Because what If I miss something else? What if things hadn't turned out as ok, and I didn't even know about it? I would have missed it because of my OWN neglect, not because they didn't feel like calling me. Just like this event with Fliss.

We are so sorry we weren't there sooner, Fliss. And I know you told us that 'it was cool' but I still wish we'd been there. And I know my love feels the same way. You're damn right we'll be harrassing the shit out of you for hang-out time, just you wait :)

So please accept this as a formal apology for being distant and unreachable at times. Yes, we do care, very much, and we want to hang out, and we have no excuse. This is my vow to return phone calls.

So in any case...

Love you

Oru

Best Love Ever

So Yesterday was rough for me. I had work ('nuff said) and then I had to run over to my OTHER job before I ran back to the appartment, got a bottle of wine, then ran down to Garrison to see a (great) play at Boscobel. (Shakespeare, Naturally.) THEN Of course, after that, hope that I made it hope in enough time to have enough energy to hang out for a bit before I was required by my biological clock to crash and burn until this morning.

Well, the break between that day of here and there was of course, the running home bit. So, I did so, and when I pull in, I realize that there's a whole lot of garbage outside. Interesting. And in OUR garbage can as well. Double interesting. And as I get out of my car, my Love approaches, grinning fiendishly. He finishes up a conversation on the phone and then gives me a hug, then starts to lead me upstairs, saying, "You're going to hate me, I know you're going to hate me."

I get suspiscious, of course, at first. But then I go with it. And when i turn the corner to see our living space - I see that the man had cleaned everything. Threw out all the trash, reorganized the bookshelves (In our bizarre way of 'reorganizing') and cleared the floor od all debris!

My Love got much praise. And then I left and then I came back and was locked out of the appartment because my love is forgetful and fancies himself a catburglar. (It's fun to puzzle it out, ladies and gents.)

Our key last night consisted of a crowbar, a garden spade and a cutco mini-carver.

In any case, My love has taken upon himself to fix and/or replace the lock for us this morning before work!

Pros:
He will NEVER forget his keys again. Ever.
Our door closes and opens without getting stuck now. I think it had something to do with the levering process via crowbar.
I like shiny things


Best Love Ever.

Oru

Be My Guest

Bear With me, Ladies and Jelly-spoons. Give this a once over and lemme know what you think.

Be My guest
The People of the Hilton Garden Inn at Fishkill
By Jessica Manna
June 30, 2010

Potted plants, richly colored furnishings, high ceilings and lots of sunlight catch the eye first. It is pleasantly cool, and the lobby is almost as bright as the smiling face behind the front desk, greeting guests with a warm, “Hello! How can I help you?”

Behind the smile is full time student, nineteen year old Mary Walker. She wears the professional black and white, and not a hair is out of place. I discover that she is a Visual Arts major at Dutchess Community College and she is presently undecided in what she wants to do with her life.

“So the hotel is sort of a waypoint between where you are now, and what you want to do?” I ask, curious.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. I needed a job, so I applied to all of the hotels in the area, and the Hilton hired me!” She responds, smiling still. “It’s kind of laid back, and I like sometime, when people are nice to you, knowing that you helped someone out. That you made a difference. Know what I mean?”

Mary helps a guest, directing them confidently up to the Wal-Mart, which is literally two parking-lots and a side street away. The Hilton Garden Inn receives a great deal of out-of-towners, brought into the area by an assortment of occasions. They have already had 9 wedding parties in the house since May began, and on a separate occasion, they hosted an entire tour-bus of Virginian Jehovah’s Witnesses.

“What do you find most challenging, then?” I ask her next.

Without hesitation, Mary answers, “trying to answer the phone that’s ringing before 3 times, having someone on hold AND checking a million people in at once.” She laughs, and as if on queue, the phone rings, and her signature answer: “Thanks for calling the Hilton Garden Inn, this is Mary how may I help you?”

As laid back as Mary tells me it is, there must also be stress involved. Upon further prying, I catch the Manager of Sales, Krista Borerro. She too, is continuing with her education, aiming for her Bachelor’s Degree in English and Literature. And despite her title and the eight years she has spent in the hotel business, she is only a springy 25 years old.

“I started out at the Hampton Inn doing front desk.” Krista begins to tell me. “I worked with a core group for about six or seven years until I came here and we just really had a great time. We would follow each other from place to place.” She smiles brightly.

“Sounds fun, so what’s the challenge in your department?” I ask.

“The stress of dealing with difficult people sometimes.” Krista nods decisively. “[They] basically want something for nothing…you have to constantly make sure that they’re satisfied.” Sighing, she thinks a moment and then adds, “And sometimes the mothers’ of the Brides we get. And Bridezillas.” We both laugh.

“Do you take anything away from this job? Anything that benefits your everyday life, maybe?” I continue my questions.

“[The job] helps me deal with every day situations in dealing with the public, adapting to situations and keeping my cool. It helps me to think ahead. Helps me to be personable and responsible.” Her smile widens before she finishes, “but I also worry a lot too, hoping that everything is going smoothly around me.”

After I ask her what the Hilton Garden Inn’s most prominent traveler is, she responds with a thoughtful expression. “I know that Hilton has a lot of resort hotels, but … I think more of corporate traveler, than let’s say, your leisure or weekends in the area. They want to check in, go upstairs, eat, sleep, maybe have a drink, and then check out at the crack of dawn. But we do get very busy in the summer with weddings in the area, which can be stressful.”

I am reminded of her ‘bridezilla’ comment and I smile, thanking her for her time. And before I depart, I catch the ear of the Executive Housekeeper, Shiela Volli. She’s spent 15 years in this business, starting her career in the Hampton Inn in Newburgh.

She graces me with some time during her cigarette break, and answers between inhales and exhales. Through conversation, I pick out a number of her duties as Executive Housekeeper, and the work load is impressive. Ms. Volli must stock each cart (one per housekeeper, a total of 8 on high volume days) to make sure they have enough shampoos, soaps, and linens. After that she checks each room that was not occupied the previous night to be certain it is clean before the Front desk assigns them to near arrivals. After that is done, hopefully the housekeepers have finished cleaning a few of the rooms from this morning’s checkouts. If so, she checks each of those thoroughly as well. If anything is amiss, she explains it to the housekeeper in question and then continues.

Aside from those day to day duties, Ms. Volli is also responsible for arranging the weekly schedule, doing monthly inventory, politely reminding guests that check out is at noon. She also has rank over the houseman, a fun-kind-of-wacky man who mops and cleans the Lobby area and the halls of each floor.

“It’s stressful. It really is.” She confides in me. “Sometimes I bring it home with me, which just stresses me out at my house.” She takes another drag.

“Do you find yourself checking your own room when you go off on vacation?” I ask, genuinely wondering how influenced she is by the job.

“Oh yeah. There was one place in Vermont that was really bad. Hair on the bathroom floors, garbage behind the dressers.” Ms. Volli nods as she looks at me intently.

“Did you say anything?” I wonder.

“No. No I never say anything. I don’t want to get anyone in trouble. That’s not me.” She shakes her head enthusiastically, though smiling as she takes yet another drag.

“What do you like about this job?” I ask, hoping to lift her spirits.

“The staff. We have an excellent staff. Housekeepers, maintenance, front desk, and breakfast, all of us are really great people.” She lists them on her fingers. “We all get along. Everyone gets along.”

This short interlude with the employees at the Hilton Garden Inn at Fishkill reminds me of a book I read once. I had stayed in this exact hotel sometime last year, and had asked if I could pluck it from its usual place beside the bible. It is called “Be My Guest” and was written by Conrad Hilton himself. A quote that seems to infuse this modest 111 roomed hotel is, “live with enthusiasm.”

Mary Walker, Krista Borerro and Shiela Volli all live with a verdant love of life that reflects in their acts towards each guest that walks through the door. Each one of these ladies, though without direct intent, voices the Hilton motto, “Think big…act big…dream big.” In no other place can there be found a brighter, more pleasant group of people.

Late Nights

The hotel is rife with that non-chalant sort of pleasantness. People coming in and out with their own brand of plastic smile. Not that the sentiment isn't received well - we like the manners well enough - but sometimes it's just a bit too fake.

It's a different face, different hair color and eye color, different body type, gender, fashion sense, shoe style, luggage brand, polo shirt, blue-tooth earpiece, touch phone and laptop - but the same smile.

The thing I hate most about it, is that on occasion I find myself doing the same thing. And in cases like that, I have to dissapear to the back room and try to think of something nice.

Most of the times, it's something like, "I'm going home in [x] hours!" or "My Love is waiting for me!" or "I can go play video games later!" Things of that nature usually spark up a real smile. But what gets me a majority of the time are those people that smile back at you for real. Those down-to-earth types that are just happy to be here, out of their houses on vaccation, or on a trip to see friends, or just get a nice room. I know I've said it before, but it does need re-iterating.

Be happy when you go to a hotel. It is contagious. And you've never had service liek that from a happy front desk person. I tell you - It will change your whole experience. And mine too.

Oru

Titter Titter!

I don't know why I'M nervous. I'M not the one getting married tomorrow. Sure, I have to do my little part, take some pictures, and be there of course, but WHY am I nervous? Geez, I suppose what they say about excitement being contagious must be true.

Who wants to get married in this crowd? Any takers? Any star-struck couples romancing about a big party and fancy clothes? I'll admit, the girlish side of me really wants to just take the time to go nuts with making my own stuff - favors, invitations, color coordinating... but the practical side of me just cringes at the pricetag. Eventually, whenever I get into one of those moods though, both sides tend to come to a healthy compromise.

Being crafty can be cheap, and cheap is good! So I can imagine different dresses, color schemes and cake flavors all I want, but It's never particularly serious. I feel like if I start getting really deep into that phase, it's time for a hefty conversation with myself, weighing out the options. Perhaps I'm just a pessimist today - but just look around. How many young couples do you see? Getting engaged and rushing into it, all passion and exhuberance? The United States has the highest divorce rate in the world, about 5 out of every 1000 people get divorced. Call me paranoid, but why would I want that extra pressure on my life?

On the other hand, however, I'd probably be thrilled. To get married, I mean. The concept of vowing yourself to another and visa versa has a romantic thrill to it that is undeniable. And I think if you can make it through that you can do anything. And I'd like to think of my current situation able to accomplish anything.

So in conclusion - I think Marriage is a divine concept, however, perhaps not for me. Which isn't a bad thing at all. :) I am AMAZINGLY excited for those who are married - will be getting married - or are even thinking of it. I admire their devotion, I truly do! So to those about to VOW, I salute you!!

Congrats Mandy!

Oru

Insightful?

I'm in a strange mood.

Perhaps I should preface this entry with a disclaimor: I did not sleep particularly well last night. I would have been fine if it was JUST the lightning and Thunder. But it seemed to spook the racoons in our walls. So they had a party. Not to mention I am an irresponsible adult and stayed up until 2. (Which was partially an accident, and partially atributed to my short attention span when I am delerious.)

IN any case: I am in a strange mood.

For some reason I cannot stop humming. I have gone through Jekyll & Hyde, Phantom and the Opera, Oklahoma, Singin' in the Rain, The Pirate, Kismet, All the disney movies I've ever seen, the songs I heard on the radio on the way here, and now I'm in the process of humming absolute nonsence as it comes to me. I kind of like it though. Don't know why.

Maybe it helps to drown out the business here. I can momentarily dissapear into my own little world as I staple together a reciept, charge some breakfast onto a room, check someone out, or smile at another stranger as they walk by and out of my life forever. I hum about how my glasses need to be cleaned, how my car needs to be fixed, how little Navvy opens his mouth to bite and just stares at you instead. How the screensaver on the computer next to me keeps cycling through the same Hotel Propoganda , and how I miss going to poetry readings. I hum about waking up this morning and how torturous it was for my shaking limbs to assemble themselves and work again. Then I hum about when I look over and kiss my love's forehead before I go to work.

:) I feel like today is going to be a good day. I like that.

Oru

Trips

I had convinced myself that I had posted an entry last week about going on a set of trips. Apparently, that was merely a moment of sleep-deprived delusion, and I appologize for my absence.

*Edit* I just now, AFTER I posted this up, SAW the post that was labeled "Trips" n the fourth. This is a note to Self: Obtain more sleep.*

In any case, it is raining, and I watch it all from behind the front desk at the hotel. I am thankful that my windows are closed, and that my appartment will be temperate as opposed to gnarly hot and gross. But I digress.

Last week I took a trip to Albany to pick up a very dear friend from a bus-depot. The ride up was.... only a mild disaster. I was about an hour late because of some defective *coughmapquestcough* directions, and was near dying from heat and wind-blown hair. Oru's air conditioning, if I haven't mentioned it before, does not work. At all. No wait, that is a lie, it works, it blows out air - only it's not conditioned air. So ok it only HALF works.

Anywho.

I get to the bus station, and I take a walk inside, avoiding the looks from the locals hanging around, and trying to look like I belong there and exhude this "don't mess with me" vibe. I go inside and look around, make sure this is the RIGHT bus depot, and then even check out the ladies room to see if she's there. I find no sign, and alas, her phone is close to death. So I spend a few minutes circling the place, scouring the parkinglot, and moving my car to another entrance before I meander back inside. At that instant, I get a call from my friend, releving to me that she was in fact hiding in the ladies room to avoid awkward conversation with a total stranger. (Understandable.)

After I collect her and we gather in my car and manage to find our way to route 87, we chat and chat and chat. And one of the things I realize I love about her is that she and I have an uncanny knack of picking up conversations and running with them. Most ANYTHING we can think of we can discuss, in an acceptable, thought-provolking conversation. And the best part? It doesn't HAVE to be serious talk, and I don't feel like I HAVE to make her laugh, or I HAVE to make her think I'm smart - she knows exactly what and who I am, and I need no charade.

It's like the friend version of my Love. Someone to be my unbiased devil's advocate, without feeling like they have to be nice or I'll be mad at them or soemthing. (Lets face it, we all do that to our significant others. And it's not -I repeat- NOT a bad thing. It merely proves how much we want each other happy. That is my theory.)

In any case, I drove a lot that day, I roleplayed with my favorite people in the world, and went to sleep.

A day well spent.

Clueless

I feel like this weekend has been a conglamoration of the worlds most presumptuous, clueless people on the planet. The few people who are not those things that have checked in, are pleasant as pie, don't get me wrong... but these other people just darken the whole lobby with their absolute idiocy.

No, really.

Example number 1 of the decline of the human race: Discourteous behavior, impatience, and superiority complex.

A gentleman walks in with another gentleman. There are three rooms under one name. However, there are also three rooms under this same name, as well as three separate guests within the reservation. (Not a difficult concept.) These two men decide they want to check in early. Unfortunately, as stated everywhere there's fine print, we do not guarantee an early checkin. And they did not call ahead either, as anyone at the front would have suggested they do. Instead, they ask, we say "We're very sorry, but your rooms aren't ready yet."

And this one guy, this idiot in a baseball cap, just gives us the most blank, lost stare I've ever seen. And after a second, he just starts shaking his head, and his stare turns from blank to disbelief, to offended. "Listen, there are 6 rooms under that name. We need the one for Corey and Andrew, ok?"

"I'm sorry sir, those rooms aren't ready."
"How about the ones under Joel?"
"Sir, those are the same rooms."
"They better not be the same rooms, we were told that there were six rooms."
"Yes. We know. We have them all right here."
"Then what's the problem?"
"It's currently 12pm. Checkin isn't until 3, and I'm afraid, though we would normally accomodate you if we could, we cannot because your rooms are not ready yet."
"Well why not?"
"Well, sir, we were rather busy last night, and since checkout isn't until 12, there are still many rooms that need to be cleaned. Including yours."

And then the man just turned around and started to walk away. And my co-worker - GOD bless her spunky little heart - called out, "Can I help you with anything else, sir?"

And he turned, attitude right on his heels and said, "Is ther ea room ready?"

"NO sir."

"Then you can't do anything for me, can you?" And he turned again and walked out, leaving a trail of embarrassed family members in his wake.

...

Why are people so irrevocably Stupid?

Note to the general populace: Sitting there and bitching isn't going to get the room clean any sooner, the breakfast to stay open later, or the pool water to be warmer or colder. It's probably going to be detrimental to any of those effects just out of spite.

You've been warned.

Oru

Note to Self:

• Oru does not make a good navigator for Oru.
• ALWAYS bring a third party with you when dropping a friend off at a place you're never been.
• Back roads of Woodstock are a mite creepy at night. Therefore, don't forget extra batteries for your disc-man-turned-car-radio for the ride home.
• Googlemaps over Mapquest ANY DAY.
• Bus depots are amazingly sketchy places.
• Take advantage of rest stops!
• When driving through Kingston, go durring the day if you are unfamiliar with the area. And remember - ask the gents outside the PUBS, not the ones walking down ally-ways for directions.
• If it takes an hour to get somewhere, and you know for a fact your self-navigation skills are somewhat lacking - give yourself an hour and a half at least instead.
• When travelling alone, walk with confidence and a bit of a devil-may-care slouch. And apparently, if someone randomly starts to talk to you, escape to the restroom of your choice. And then remain there until you are rescued.
• When travelling long distances, in the summer, in a car with no operational air conditioning unit, REMEBER: It is imperative to bring a new change of clothes. Or sit in your underwear. Whichever is more comfortable for you, I suppose.

Trips

So My plan is this. My love expressed an interest in 'just going' somewhere. Picking a direction and heading in it. So I naturally took a few days off to accomodate for that during out one year anniversary. (I'm not usually one for keeping track of these things, but it seemed like a big deal.) What I plan to do is throw some of his clothes in a bag, abduct him and throw 'North', 'West', 'East' and 'South' into a hat and make him pick. So that trip? Not sure how it'll turn out, but I will be sure to stop slacking and put it up here for you to speculate on.

And today I have another trip. I am picking up my very bestest friend from a train station in Albany. (Or is it a bus depot? I forget.) In any case, I plan to head off straight from work, and pick her up and then moey on down back in this direction. It still waits to be discerned if I will be showing the appartment off to her, considering she needs to get to Woodstock at the end of the day - And I have to juggle picking my love up from work...

But I like being busy. Going on trips. It has been far too long since I just decided to do something BECAUSE I wanted to. Everything recently has been wearing a pricetags around their necks, and it's gotten so huge that I can't even SEE what it was I wanted to do past the cost. It's about time I found a way around it and enjoye whatever time I have left.

Wow that sounded ominous.

In any case - short trip today, Long trip Sunday. Or Monday. Has yet to be decided. And the verdicts (As well as any funny stories) will no doubt be related to you here!

Oru

Surreal

As the consequences of the omelet from this morning gurgle in my stomach, I swallow the last gulp of cold tea and stretch out my arms.

I do not want to work today. But in truth - I don't want to work ANY day. But what makes today different or worse? can;t be anythign significant. In fact, I got my paycheck today. Rent is secured. Money for loans = check. And after that I'm going to my other off-the-books job to work some more. Sure, my knees protest, but they protest every day. So what makes me not want to work TODAY?

I think it's all in my head.

I don't know if I told you, but your dear Oru has had trouble staying happy in the paste. There has been severe depression, self-esteem issues, longings unatainable and lonliness. Pretty deep and disconcerting stuff, if you ask me. Butin all seriousness, I have been quite happy. I have not been lonely for one thing, I have been relatively successful, and I have accomplished a few things by now that I am rather proud of. (Published only being number 2 on the grand list of this years achievements, sos you know.)

However, I also know myself well enough to realize that sometimes - I am just NOT myself. And as I said - it is all in my head. Somehow, my inner surreal-me convinces myself that something is incorrect and something is amiss, when EVERYTHING tells me otherwise. I can rationalize it all I want: Tell myself that it's really my subconscious letting me in on something that IS wrong. Or maybe that I WANT there to be something wrong...

But as I said, I know myself far too well.

Which leads me to a random point that wasn't touched on really through this whole rasnt.

Do what you want, hopefully when you want to do it, and KNOW yourself. Know yourself REALLY well, or you will RUIN yourself.

Oru

Tension

I hate to flip flop between moods like this, but sometimes I just can't figure a way around it. I'll be blessed by the kindness of strangers, loving life, just having seen an awesome movie and had great sex to boot (I know, too much information,) and the next morning, I will still have this fiery grip of tension around my neck like a noose. I'm not sure what causes it. It could be the lack of sleep. It could be the drastic temperature changes in my lovely appartment: hot to cold to chiled to humid to hot to humid to cold to hot, etc... Or, it could be the idea of going to work.

Just the idea. Forget about ACTUALLY going. THAT is probably what causes the very corner of my eye to tick a bit whenever the phone rings. THAT is what causes the corner of my lips to turn down in an angry grimace when someone asks me if they can book three rooms under a so-and-sos wedding group. THAT is what causes my heart to skip a beat when the adrenaline from the thought of beating someone's face in with the key card maker because they demand a new room when we're SOLD OUT because their sheets are too small, or the AC isn't working JUST RIGHT or maybe the room smells a little strange. THAT is what makes me want to quit this stinking job and try my luck with unemployment benefits.

So when I get off work today - I'm going to do some shopping at walmart, get Navvy some more crickets, and price out a new fishtank. Then I'm going to see about putting up some shelves in the appartment acrobat style, and do something productive with my day. I'll even pay off some bills while Im at it. Boo-ya.

And I think I'll actually write out a poem.

Oru

Kindness of Strangers

As I sit here at the front desk (No, not actually sitting), nibbling on my Tiramisu, I smile. Yes, I actually, as a matter of fact, smile. And not just that plastic one that comes on and off when I see people I don't really like but feel obligated to be nice to. This is a true "Welcome to the freakin Hilton" smile.

I know. Brand loyalty. so sue me. But you don't even know the tiny thiings that happen here that just add up and add up and add up until you can't even HELP but smile. A job like this can do two things simultaneously.

1.) They can obliterate your hopes for humanity. Petty, bickering 'Platinum' Members who feel entitled to be treated like kings because they are constantly traveling and amassing 'points'. This is not a game. You are not in the lead. So stop acting like you're a lap ahead of us in this giant footrace of LIFE. I will be the first to admit I have seen my fair share of people who have their heads so far up their own TUCUS that I'm surprised they can still breathe. And it's those kinds of people that make me hang my head and ask the great celestial question: "WHY?"

Or

2.) They can fulfill your hopes in the entire world. I can also personally attest to it. Silly, little comments, like "Hey, drive safe" or "Your suggestion was great" or "Here, have a free dessert" can do so much to improve one's outlook on life. Conversations at the front desk at 10:3opm. A smile, a nod, and a "I'll see you tomorrow." No matter how much crap your day has been - now it's ok.

It's all worth it.

Oru

My Reptilian Baby

It's actually amazing how much comfort I can get out of holding a lizard in my hands and watching it's eyes blink open, closed, open, closed then remain closed. To think: This creature will grow at least twice it's current size in a few years. To think - this creature could scuttle right out of my hands and be hidden forever under the piles of boxes that I have yet to put away. (Or empty.) To think - I never once considered myself a Reptile person.

Sure. In my youth... and actually to this very day... my father will call me and my mother "lizards." Of course, I think that spawned from my brother and I watching the aforementioned movie "Willow" 10 times too many in our collective childhood. But I think that is ALSO why I never saw myself owning a reptile. Especially a Lizard. Just IMAGINE the amount of jokes that will NOW blossom from this one pet?

...Mmmmmaybe I don't want to think about the jokes. Topic change!


In any case - This adorable young lady is Niko Loki Nyx. Niko for short. Full name is you're trying to find her and she'd hidden under the bed. She was actually rescued from the very hotel I work at! THAT is a funny story. How about I tell you tomorrow morning in my next update?

:)

~Oru

"Yer Mother Was A Lizard!"

...Exclaimed the Brownie from the movie "Willow." [Starring Val Kilmer as the amazing Mad Mardigan, Warwick Davis as the 'peck', and the devine -or rather not- Jean Marsh as Queen Bavmorda.]

In any case - Meet Navvy. Our new Chinese Water Dragon. He is active, as well as interactive. why, just the other day he refused to leave my hand. I love him already. And my Love loves him, so we're all good! The only thing I don't love so much is digging through that little can of mealworms to find the ones that are still wiggling.

He likes eating the wiggly ones. Crickets for some reason I can manage. They're just crickets after all. And the crunching doesn't bother me that much either. Maybe it's just the worminess of the mealworms that wigs me out. *shiver*

It was a toss up for names as well. 'Navvy' is short for the name 'Navagrian' [pronounced Nahv-agg-Ree-ahn] which is the name of a very charismatic, if over enthusiastic Dragon in a story I tell with my friends' participation. [Yes there are dice involved.] He is, conveniently enough, green, like our friend here, and very personable with his moments of panic and anger. Like our friend here. [Few and very far between.] However, the other name we thought of was Kaku. [pronounced kay-coo] He is also a character from a certain interactive story line. He is scaly and semi-reptilian as well as green, which works for our friend here. But Kaku is closer to the size of our new family member, as well as that curious nature.

As you noticed, we decided to go with Navagrian. Because there's also that bit of pride that just rolls off this little guy's itsy bitsy shoulders. And hey - did I mention he'll get to be a bout 2 feet long?

Oru

Just Another Day...

...at work. Same jacket, same shoes, same pain in my right knee. Same scenery, same soundtrack and same great people. Different cars in the lot, different clouds in the sky and different mood most of the time. (You know, other then those specifically miserable moods.) Same slightly-against-regulation blog post, facebook surf, and e-mail check. Same shoulder twinge, same wrist ache, different day. Same compliments, same complaints, different people handing them out.

...at home. Same clutter we haven't put away, same XBOX360 with controllers and games. Same kitten-blanket strewn on the floor, same empty box serving as a garbage can and same brand-new dish rack that made me really excited to show my love when he came home. Different temperature day to day, different ideas of things to do, shelves to hammer, books to spread. Different opinions of the neighbors, but same apprehension about volume levels of the TV. Same love for the place and love for whom I share it with, and same pride that we did it.

...on my blog. Same mildly-insightful words, arranged in a way to seem nearly poetic, and slightly narrative. Attempted wit and thehope of clever banter produced from such a post. The same half-hip-cocked stance at the front desk as I type, eyebrows knit together in contemplation. The same urge to just get it out of my head and onto the screen as oposed to needing to edit or fix my many typos. Different topic, different paragraph structure, and hopefully some new and different readers as time goes by. But the same readers? MORE then fine with me. In fact - that's perfect.

Thanks for reading, guys :)

Oru

Able and Not

How many times have you said or thought "I wish there was something I could do?"

I had one of those moments today.

I am following another blog here, called "The Continuation - The Conclusion". The writer lives in Nashville, Tennessee. Tell me - what have you heard on the news about it? Recently? Something about Rain? Personally, I was sitting in a deli, waiting for my love to get off work, and while I sat and ate, I watched the news. And not once, while I sat there for about an hour, did a side-story, or any story come up about Nashville Tennessee - and the massive flooding that has as of this moment killed 20 people.

So I am going to put up a link here, from her blog, so you can educate yourselves all the more about the events going on it your own country, as opposed to finding out that Fidel Castro wants a twitter account, ok?

We Are Nashville
Anderson Cooper

One brief thing? At least news websites haven't totally forgotten aboutit. Although... I suppose there's always something more you can do.

Oru

On The Verge

... Of venting, mostly. Teetering on the thin edges of anger and calm. It's about all I can do not to throw open the door and spout fiery words of absolute hatred with alarming alacrity. I would tear the name tag off, throw it on the ground and spit on it before turning on heel and walking out with a stormcloud over my head.

You know, it isn't always this bad.

But there's a saying I would like to extend to the antagonist of my own personal story. It's pretty popular. It goes something like, "Leave your Baggage at the door." Or we could even step to the side and just say, "Don't mix your social life with your work life." Or hwoever that goes. (I would say business or pleasure - but I don't think our mental assailant knows what that IS, let alone has any in their miserable life. Which is unfortunate. They would be totally different people if they had, and I mean better people of course.

I wish I didn't need this money to survive - oh the things I would do!

Come on people, make me rich and famous (Or just well-known and comfortable for that matter) and OH the things I would do and then thusly recite to you! I could be epic in my anger, magnanimous in my generosity, and effortless in my supply of posts and reading material for those bored few who follow the Oru!

So whadda ya say? Should the Oru be famous?

Oru