Oh No You Don't

I walked to the parking lot behind my apartment the other morning, purse and bagel in hand. What do I see but a baby blue jay parked directly behind my car with an indignant look on his feathered face. The mother was freaking out, of course: swirling about, chirping profusely. The small tot was not fresh out of the egg, however. More around the "got kicked out of the nest" age. I decided it was in his best interest for me to move him away from where a careless driver could back over him, and then go on my merry way.

Fate would not have it as such. With my attention drawn upwards again to the bird's frantic mommy, I realized--with terror--that a cat with attention fixed on my new friend was perched on the garage roof.

Shit.

Well I can't just leave this little guy here. That bastard will eat him! And don't feed me that circle of life bullshit; these cats get fed. So, I pondered where I could possibly put the helpless baby so that this ferocious feline couldn't get his jaws and paws on him. If this cat is on the garage roof where can't he be? At this point the villain turned the corner of the garage--I swear it couldn't have taken him but 2 seconds to make it down from the roof--and stopped short when he saw me. I make a move toward him to startle him off and, foolishly, thought he was gone.

I figured I may as well get a sense of how well this little guy could fly. So I moved toward him and he fluttered away. I bet he'll take flight by end of day, I thought to myself. But at that moment, the cat flew from behind the garage, snatched my new friend in his mouth, and took off!

Like hell you do. This is not going down on my watch. And so I dropped my purse and took off after them.

The baby was screaming and flapping his wings. My heart was sinking, but my adrenaline was pumping. I don't know how, but to my utter amazement I actually caught the cat! Bagel still in hand, I took him by the back of the neck and shook.

"DROP IT! LET IT GO!!!"

Jaws open, bird released. I tossed that asshole over the chain link fence for good measure. He landed on his feet, but he knows he lost this battle. I hope his little cat friends all witnessed this and harass him about it in the locker room later.

I scoop up the blue jay who is absolutely petrified, and fluttered about in my hands so violently that I dropped my bagel. How unlucky.

To my delight and surprise, there was no visible bodily harm to the bird, who was now calming in my hands. The thought came to me that the roof outside my second story window would be a perfect spot for him as no predators could gain access to it and he could take his sweet time in learning to fly, so I made my way back to my apartment.

But as I started up the steps, the bird's mouth opened, his eyes began to fade, and his little body was becoming rigid in my hands. I realized, whether of internal injuries or severe stress, he was dying. I had failed him. And in front of the doorway to my apartment, I began to cry.

I still needed to lay him to rest somewhere, and he deserved better than being devoured post-mortem or being tossed in a trash can. I decided to lay him outside my window for now, and return and bury him when I returned from work. With a heavy heart, I opened my window.

With the utmost care I placed this fragile creature, since passed, on the roof of my porch and stepped back with eyes welling up. And at the moment I did this, my friend popped up from where he laid and began hopping and chirping about! He was playing dead!!

Perhaps one of the most joyous moments of my life took place right then. Such satisfaction and pleasure taken in outwitting a cunning creature and sparing a gentle baby in need. I watched him bounce over to the end of the roof, where he called for his mother and waited patiently.

I took off for work that day, empowered and ecstatic.

And So It Is

And for an update. It's been 7 months. I suppose there's something to say.

Work is life. I 'd be lying if I said I didn't love it, though. I've never been one who can sit still anyway. Working 60+ hours a week--every week--has it's drawbacks, most certainly, but I'll take it over idleness. I also feel like my job provides me with a sense of purpose to an extent, and that is enjoyable as well. I've been promoted since my last post, which is insane to think about since I was only last "promoted" to management in September. I, with my team, of course, am essentially in charge of all activity in the Pittsburgh market for my company. It really is in every way my dream job. I could stick around in this for a long, long time--fate allowing.

Separating my personal and professional lives is a complete impossibility. Firstly, because my job takes so very much of my waking time, but also because much of my social life revolves around a group of work friends.

From Buku to Bukowski life has been pretty interesting. I have such little free time that it's always an adventure just deciding how to spend it. Fortunately working in promotions has so many social perks. Last night I found myself at a dub-step show in the South Side in relation to my job. So after the work was done I hung around for the show. The allusive Caleb Pass did not make an appearance, which put a damper on the night, but an unexpected run-in with a delightful acquaintance and making nice with the bar and security staff proved enjoyable, even fulfilling. The headliner, Buku, is also a friend of mine which is reason enough to stick around and show support (or just act remarkably exclusive being "in").

In the downtime, I have found comfort and familiarity with Shiraz, my cat, and Bukowski poetry. For my birthday, Ethan gifted me a collection, Burning in Water Drowning in Flame, which may very well be my favorite work I've been introduced to in many years--pre-graduate school, even. Humor me as I indulge myself. An excerpt:

the other night

an old worker

grey and blind

no longer useful

was retired

to the Outside.

speech! speech!

we demanded.

it was

hell, he said.

we laughed

all 4000 of us;

he had kept his

humor

to the end.

From "the workers."

In life there is much humor and much grief. Purposeful people are those who see the correlation. There is, no doubt, much sorrow that comes with understanding.

I had a dream last night. I had multiple sub-dermal piercings throughout my back, which were being removed by hand in some shop that resembled no place of business of which I've ever been familiar. I bled a little and became nauseated when they removed one from my lower side. It bothered me so much, that the mirroring one I opted to leave in. At this point, a man I knew began to tell a story from the corner of the room about hunting with his friends and his friends' dogs. Appearing from nowhere, as elements are wont to do in dreams, was a caged hound. The man removed the dog from the cage and proceeded to shove the barrel of a rifle into the animal's hindquarters. And fire.

I woke up so disturbed that even though last night's events kept me up past 3am and it was only the early waking moments of dawn, I could not return to rest.

Sometimes I wonder if the poetry is doing it to me. But then I remind myself that it pales in comparison to the cruelty of life.

WTF?

In explanation for my indiscernible status reading: Shannon Kristen loves her foreign fucking malibu, so fuck you, eminem, chinstrap, four eyes, honky black lung, and jiffylube.


I had a very weird--and disagreeable--experience at Jiffylube today.

Eminem, chinstrap, four eyes, and honky black lung are what I dubbed the incompetent and insulting workers there (I refuse to capitalize them as they are NOT proper nouns). I drive an '06 Saab 9-3 Convertible (information necessary for this story to make sense). After charging $101 for an OIL CHANGE, eminem (called this for his uncanny white-trash resemblance to the much more successful and, yes, even talented, rapper) said (unprompted, just out of the fucking blue) "I would never buy foreign." (Of course, I fired back "I would never buy American," adding the dig "I like my cars to run." The truthfulness of this statement is neither here nor there, only the unwavering and unapologetic delivery of my insult.) Standing outside, when I should have been leaving (after the monetary raping had occurred), they determined that my brake late was, in fact, out, as it said on the interior screen. (Before they had said to me "it says your brake light is out, but it's not." Yeah, must have been some of that damn foreign trickery). So, now that they used their goddamn eyes and saw that the brake light was out (honky black lung, the nondescript 20-something lip pierced, check-out girl, must have insisted 30 times "BUT I JUST CHECKED IT. IT WAS JUST WORKING!), they proceeded to take 3 years in the cold to fix it. (Side note, there were about 8 people there doing this job. It could have--and SHOULD have--taken 1). While this was taking place, chinstrap (self-explanatory alias) made a comment about how my car is "just a malibu," as in the model made by Chevy. (Again totally unprompted. And if that's the case, shouldn't eminem be thrilled with it?) As they continued to yammer on about the electrical system, I mentioned, truthfully, that I had just picked it up from the shop where an attempt had been made to install a remote starter. They told me my car was literally the only one they could not successfully operate in. The electrical system was far too complicated and they couldn't guarantee the work. To this, eminem chimed that those things were a complete breeze to install and that all cars were the same in that regard, even throwing in a detail about opening up some compartment and then just turning such and such thing on. Presto. (Oh yeah, I'm sure that the people who were about to get $600 for the job turned it down and lied to me about my car being more challenging. Furthermore, the Pgh Saab dealership I called to ask about it also lied when they said that they could not perform the task either and that my particular model could only have it factory installed--sorry. Sure, eminem. You have skills that surpass these others. That's why you're working the afternoon shift at Jiffylube, you fuck.) After going on about how I lucked out not having to pay for the $5 light they were putting in my tail light (yeah, that cost definitely wasn't covered in the Benjamin I just handed over to you people), Manolis and I got in my overpriced, foreign Chevy Malibu and looked at each other in disbelief at what had just taken place. But, just as we turned at the intersection we heard a desperate screech from honky black lung. We looked up at where we had just been and, sure enough, there she was waiving her arms in the air as if she was hailing down an airplane in the distance. I had to make several turns to get back to the lot, where I was informed by the bungling gaggle that a piece of my car about the size of a hubcap was somehow not returned to its proper place in the engine. At this point, chinstrap went about replacing it, but, not to worry, because four eyes (again, obvious and admittedly less than witty pseudonym) proceeded to inform us that "it just looks pretty" and didn't serve any real function to the engine. Well, in that case, just keep it as a paper weight!

So, there's the explanation to my status. Manolis and I decided that the establishment would serve well as a setting for the next hit reality series. Titles such as "Jiffy Shore/Jersey Lube"were tossed around.

List!

The last couple years, and particularly the last couple months, I have felt like I have accomplished NOTHING. Now, this is, of course, not true. I've still traveled, got a job (had six at one point), did all kinds of things really. But, with being a lame ass invalid I just feel like there is so much more I've wanted to accomplish and haven't been able to.

This is probably a good thing. Because now, I will likely be inspired and determined to waste no time as soon as I am fully functioning again (maybe in a couple months? ::fingers crossed::).

Anyways, what I do have now is time to think about and plan out all of the adventures I want to be a part of in the next few years. Here's a fun brainstorm of the goals I'm setting for myself. (Please feel encouraged to comment with your own.)

Marathon--this is a big one. I was well on my way to accomplishing this goal before I fell victim to the tick bite. This WILL happen before I am 30.

Triathlons--good fun.

Short film--I've been sitting on what I consider to be a really awesome screen play for some time now. I wrote it in an afternoon while in Colorado (when I should have been doing work...). It requires a pretty small cast and probably only a week of filming at most. I would love to do this over the summer.

Lounge singer--No, I'm not kidding. I want to put together a couple hours worth of material and sell myself to some clubs/lounges. I really want to sing again somewhere. Just for fun. You only live once.

The Amazing Race--Now, this one requires the commitment of the brilliant and lovely Amanda Matlock, so we'll see, but no one can tell me that I wouldn't be awesome at this. I was born to do race amazingly. Oh, let me see, mental and physical competition with a close friend while traveling around the world. If it sounds like the description of my autobiography, IT IS. Amanda, get done with law school and f jobs for a while. We're doing it. ;D

World Cup, Brazil--Admittedly Manolis is the driving force behind this desire, but, come on, it would be awesome. It's a while away; we can make this happen.

Sky diving--This is a classic. But I do want to do it.

Bikram's Yoga Retreat--I have to get back into the practice again, but once I feel comfortable and confident enough I would love to take part in an intensive Bikram Yoga instructive retreat. I'll be walking on my hands in no time.

See all 7 continents. Believe it or not, even with all of my travels, I have only been to two continents: North America and Europe. The next 10 years will give way to a hard push for the other 5 (Yes, this includes Antarctica. Yes, you can go there.)

These are just the first few things that come to my mind. There are more. But a pretty good start, I think. Each day better than the one before.

Las Vegas Hotels I've Stayed In

Just for fun. I've been to Las Vegas 7 times (and am going again in May!). Here are the hotels I've graced with with my presence.

The Luxor

Still a soft spot in my heart for this one. I know people say it's old and shitty now, but I absolutely love this one. The very first I ever stayed in. I was ten; it was a family vacation with my parents. I spent the entire trip riding the 3-d thrill ride "In Search of the Obelisk." How do I still remember that?

MGM Grand

When I stayed there this was a very family oriented hotel. There was a theme park in the back and coming in the entrance, a Wizard of Oz themed display. I don't remember much else of this one, though years later I would wake up in it not remembering how I got there...

The Mirage

My absolute favorite hotel. Period. A Las Vegas classic. I saw Sigfried and Roy here. I love the dolphins and the waterfall pool. Plus, the 100ft long aquarium at check in. This is just a great hotel.

Excalibur

Honestly, a pretty shitty hotel. I saw the Knights show and even a dog show, but there's really not a whole lot else I can say about it. I wish it no harm, but I wouldn't stay there again.

The Winn

When I stayed there it was the newest and most expensive Vegas hotel ever built. Snazzy decor, high end shopping, and a hot hot hot night club: this place makes my nice and naughty list. ;)

The Palazzo

Probably the least impressive hotel externally, this place had the nicest rooms of any hotel where I've stayed. We fit 6 ladies in the early 20's comfortably with room to spare. The exclusive pool is a great place to get shit-faced for around $150 dollars and pass out too.

I've also stayed in a hostel and a condo off the strip. The hostel was actually pretty awesome. Something like $14 dollars a night with a pool open 24/7 and really funny front desk employees with absolutely insane "Texas" tats on their biceps (ok, so that was one specific guy). When I go back in May I'll be staying at the New York, New York, which I'm excited for because I love the roller coaster on top. Anyway, that was fun.

Viva Las Vegas!

"What Did You Do to Piss Off the Universe?"

Title, courtesy of Julie.

So, everybody knows the Lyme Disease saga. Recently I got a picc line in order to administer IV antibiotics for a 4-6 week period which will hopefully be the solution to this ongoing, miserable health debacle that has been my life the last couple years.

The actual picc line procedure on the 4th was completely miserable. For most people it is not as bad as my experience apparently, but, as luck would have it mine was one for the history books. To top it all off, they put in the wrong line. Things just keep getting better and better.

Along with the regular pain of the Lyme, I had an absolutely terrible night of terrible chills, fever, aching, and a swollen neck (of all things) on Saturday. The next night, the same thing. Because it was over the weekend I couldn't find out for sure what was wrong right away. Came to find I was suffering from "serum sickness," a rare type of allergic reaction only a few people in the world would ever experience. Lucky me.

So, now I'm awaiting a new antibiotic to be administered Monday at my Dr.'s office. You know, just hanging out, waiting around, with this damn hose in my vein headed straight to my heart. >:\

Sooooo...in my waiting, I was heading to work today, you know, like you do. Sitting at a stop light, talking to Manolis (we really only get to talk on my morning commute since I started my job) I see in my rear view a second before it happened a red car headed for my backside. The only thought I remember having:

"He's not going to stop."

And he didn't. I don't even think he braked. I screamed, you know, couldn't help it, said "I was just in an accident. I'm fine. I have to go," to Manolis, and looked out my window to find the guy who had hit me standing there asking if I was alright.

The car was damaged so badly. This guy was flying. I was ok. I got out of the car, looked around at the immense damage to both the back and front of my car (he pushed me into the Accord in front of me). The next few minutes was just a blur of phone calls and sirens. My neck was bothering me, so I got it checked out by the EMTs. They insisted I go to the ER and so on the stretcher with foam head securer thingys and all I was whisked away to St. Clair.

At first we thought the guy had safe auto, which of course is minimum coverage insurance. So, we were all worried about whether or not everything would be covered for both myself and the guy in front of me. Well, then, on the ride to pick up my rental car my insurance agent called to tell me that actually, the guy who hit me cancelled his insurance on the 11th. SEVEN DAYS AGO. Holy crap.

So, now I'm responsible for my $500 deductible, and, if my car is totaled (I would imagine this is the case) I have to find a new one. I loved that little guy so much. I hope he's not the only Saab I can ever afford. ;)

Honestly, through all of this, I can say I really, truly just cannot stop thinking about the guy who hit me. Around my age, probably a little older. So shaken up. I mean, I know he was clearly negligent when he plowed into me, and I know that driving uninsured is incredibly foolish. But, I just know what it's like to be at fault for something. To be so fearful. To have everybody come down on you. And it's just terrible. And I feel for him. I'd give anything to be financially well-off enough to not hold him responsible for this and just let him deal with the legal ramifications of his actions rather than those and the financial ones.

I just hope he has a family as amazing as mine to help him through.

Job, and Stuff

4th week for me. Work is going well. I couldn't have asked for a better person to work with. Jacque is smart, driven, and responsible. But also fun and cool. She just got married too, and I love weddings and everything that has to do with them, so I've enjoyed looking at her photos, hearing about her planning, etc. Office life is going well.

I feel a little bit in limbo. Manolis won't be visiting until late December (as in after Christmas) at the earliest. I have started my routine and what not but haven't really gotten into the groove quite yet. Getting my first paycheck was a delight, for certain. I'm looking forward to really getting into the flow of my days and having a life on top of just work.

But that is all contingent upon my health. Let's be honest. Without that, there's nothing. I can't really do much other than work and sleep or I'm totally run down and incapable of accomplishing even those tasks.

The nest step is IV antibiotics, which need to be approved by my insurance company to pay. Insurance companies are inherently evil, however, and so this is a difficult and time consuming process. The plan is to go ahead with the procedure (inserting the PICC line and beginning to administer the drugs) in November. Keeping my fingers crossed for a number of things. Perhaps when all is said and done I will be symptom free and cured for the new year. The idea of living without pain is nearly foreign to me now. I'm really, really hopeful for this next move.

In one of the more annoying occurances in my life recently, my Paypal account was hacked into (well, according to Paypal this is impossible and what actually happened was this mystery asshole had my password, but whatever). I woke up to an email from them entitled "Your Paypal Receipt for..." I thought this was odd since I hadn't purchased anything with Paypal in months. So, I check it out and see that yes, in fact, my Paypal account was used to buy $164 in website software. Bullshit. Call Paypal and get a very unsympathetic woman who was subsequently made to feel bad about herself by yours truly. At my insistence I was transferred to someone with knowledge and give-a-fuckness who said he would freeze my account and contact the website the item was purchased from. However, even though no money had actually been deducted from my account yet, he could not stop the amount from being paid out to Paypal. Now, he could stop it there and then after some arbitrary wait period I could deposit it back into my account. But, the point is, they couldn't just stop it, and I didn't have the funds in my account to cover that (or any) payment at the time. In which case I would have been responsible for overdraft fees, which is total bs. Now, fortunately, my bank is cool and just had me sign a form saying "pay nothing to Paypal" and, given the circumstances, waved the fee. But, it just all really made me think twice about all online anything. Because, you're not really protected. And these people don't really care.

So, that's my blather for today. Forget you, Paypal. Forget you.