Wednesday, January 30, 2013

No matter who calls, I gotta screen my phone calls

Welp, I did it. I finally managed to fuck up my phone.

It started acting funny two nights ago -- none of the hard press buttons on the front (like "home" and "back" -- essential for navigating an Android) worked, but the slide keyboard was working. I was able to hobble around that way until last night, until the touchscreen stopped working. Okay, I thought. It's one of two things: hardware or software.

I'm about to get really nerdy here. I flashed my phone and reinstalled the ROM (basically wiped the internal memory and reinstalled the OS, in PC terms). That didn't work, so I knew it was hardware-related.

I've already had to disassemble and reassemble this phone at least five times in the six months I've owned it. 1) Replace the flex ribbon cable that connects the keyboard and other buttons to the phone, as it was worn out and every time I'd open the phone's keyboard, the screen would get all weird. 2) Took apart to let dry after I spilled soda all over it. 3) Replace the volume cable when I accidentally snapped it doing #2. 4) Replace the volume cable AGAIN after I snapped the replacement volume cable trying to put it back in. 5) Last night to see what the hell was going wrong.

Anyway, I found out the issue. Somehow the same flex ribbon cable that I replaced barely four months ago managed to tear on the side -- I'm guessing it got misaligned somehow and opening/closing the keyboard wore down the side. ARRRGGGHHH. As a last resort, I put the old flex cable back on (I'd rather have the touchscreen work than just the keyboard) to see if that fixed the issue. It didn't. In fact, the screen wouldn't even turn on.

I seriously considered doing this:

The good news is that I backed up everything yesterday when my hard press keys stopped working, because I knew it might try to self destruct. The bad news is that my new phone won't be here for another couple of days, so I'm back to using my old Nokia that no longer reads the SD card... which means no updated address book, no GPS, no Twitter client, no Solitaire games to play on the bus. #firstworldproblems, ha.

As much as it sucks to spend another $100+ on a new phone, I'm kind of glad to get rid of it. It's had a host of other problems that have required repair, and I think there are only so many times a cell phone can be taken apart before it says, "Dude. No more." (Especially when 5 of those times have been by a clumsy novice like me.)

Moral of the story: don't casually play surgeon on a piece of electronic equipment. :)




Post title song reference: "Spiderwebs" - No Doubt

Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Growing pains

I'm not sure if this is a sign of aging, or me just being klutzy and forgetful, but I've been randomly finding aches/pain that's cropped out of nowhere. For example, I was getting ready for my walk last night, and I realized my upper arm hurt... like someone had punched me yesterday and I was only just feeling it. It's slightly better today, but I'm wondering what could have caused it.

Today I woke up and noticed my chin had a swollen spot on it, maybe the size of a dime. I've been anxiously applying benzoyl peroxide to it in the event it's a major cyst brewing up to spoil my weekend, because underneath it feels like one. Either that, or I bumped my chin on something and haven't figured out what. (That's happened before... I've hit my forehead on something, found a bump the next day, and immediately applied topical medication to it before I realized it was the aftermath of whacking my head.)

I have noticed that the way I sleep is probably not the best for preventing said aches and pains. Lately I've found myself curling up my hands and arms in weird positions, possibly to keep them warm (bad circulation?), and then I manage to pretzel myself to try and get comfortable. If that's not a sign that I need a new mattress, I don't know what is... but mattresses are mad expensive! Like hundreds of dollars! And apparently you have to haggle with the showroom guys to try and get a good deal. Of all the family traits I inherited from my parents, I didn't get the haggling ability from my father. I did get the cheapness gene from him, though. ;)

Anyway. Back to nervously checking my chin for any signs of possible zit formations...

Monday, January 28, 2013

Cleanup/ass covering

Okay, since Blogger doesn't allow us to change the privacy of individual posts, I'm going to revert those two posts about my [admittedly stupid actions] back to draft. The likelihood of someone linking this blog to my real life persona is low, but in the event it does happen, I'd have a lot of explaining to do to any future employers. ;)

Anyway, they'll stay as draft so I can keep the comments and remember that poor decisions do happen. And hopefully I haven't scared off any potential followers... although the three that I do have are pretty awesome!

I say my hell is the closet, I'm stuck inside

Yep, so no text. Oh well. Not super sad, but I'm not going to worry about it.

I feel bad about this, but I removed an anonymous comment from the last post. It pointed out what I already knew – what I did was wrong, in my eyes – but I think people need to know this before they pass any more judgment.

I grew up as the shyest kid around. I couldn't even talk to boys until high school, and when I finally did strike up a conversation with my crush, I was sweating so badly and hyperventilating that I nearly passed out. Being social has always been a struggle for me. I got rejected so many times in high school and college that it's downright pathetic. And consequently, I learned that putting yourself out on a limb makes you vulnerable, and it's much safer to hide up in the treehouse and hope the guy you like makes a move instead of you. (It never happens.)

Even now, I find myself "faking it until I make it" around guys, because I have no fucking clue what I'm doing, and I'm petrified that one of them might actually like me but I won't end up liking them back... and that I have to reject them. Stupid, isn't it?

So yeah, I was shady about it. But for once, at least I took some initiative. Instead of staying at home and feeling sorry for myself, I got off my ass. Even if I went to that bar on a whim, not knowing his event would be going on, it would have been sheer coincidence. I still believe I would have talked to him, because he's an attractive guy. Knowing the basics about him (hobbies, etc.) gave me the courage and confidence I know I have but can never manage to summon. (Usually the only time it comes out is when I've had multiple drinks, and even then it comes out all discombobulated and backwards. Not attractive.) And for two days straight I didn't think about D.

So yeah, he didn't text me. Whatever. But that night – having two great conversations with single guys and feeling confident and good about myself – was worth whatever  random people are going to think about me. Because I've had my heart broken scores of times and felt ashamed for not being desirable. For that one night, I felt okay.

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Always moving on and on and on

Well, after my last two incredibly depressing blog posts (sorry guys), I'm feeling slightly better. Still, I hope karma will come deliver some form of payback to the girl who uninvited me to her birthday party in a pretty cowardly way.

Anyway, this week is strange because, like most people, I had Monday off, and Friday is telework days, so it's been almost like a three day work week. Although technically I didn't have Monday off by default, because my contracting firm sucks and we don't get all matching federal holidays. So all the non-standard holidays that my government counterparts automatically get off (Columbus Day, Veterans' Day, MLK Day, and Presidents' Day), we have to take the time off since we're not allowed in the office without a government worker present.

Which, for me, stinks because I really need to save up four days' of "floating holiday" (aka leave to use for those four "non-standard" holidays) time to supplement my limited vacation time of 13 days. (We also get 7 days' of sick leave per year that I rarely use, which stinks since we can't convert it to vacation or any sort of legal PTO.)

I always lament that I wish there was an easier way to transition from being a contractor to straight-workin'-for-the-gubment, because the benefits are significantly better. The pay may be lower, but the benefits make up for it in spades.

Rambling over. :)  I wanted to share this screenshot with you guys, because the randomest shit seems to happen to me on the interwebz:


I didn't realize using reCaptcha meant knowing Hebrew! (Unfortunately, I didn't think to click on the audio icon.)




Post title song reference: "New Way Home" - Foo Fighters

Sunday, January 20, 2013

Uninvited

"But you, you're not allowed
You're uninvited
An unfortunate slight..."


Ever have something bad happen to you, reel a little bit, insist you're okay, and then realize a day later that you're really not? That you're just fooling yourself? Yeah, that just happened to me.

A friend of mine (one that I know through another friend) had her birthday this weekend. She's one of these rare types that gets REALLY excited about her birthday, has a party every year, invites everyone, etc. I went to her party last year (the only one out of our group of mutual friends, might I add) and had a great time.

I received a Facebook invite to her party in December and RSVP'd "yes." She hadn't decided on a venue yet, but about 10 days before the event, she sent out an email to the event saying it was at this new bar. That was the last email I got, so I assumed that's where it was.

However, on Friday I logged onto Facebook to double check the time, and could not find the event anywhere. It was a private event, so I thought Facebook was being weird, so I clicked on the link in the email she had sent (which usually sends you straight to the page), and it kept redirecting to my events list. I then sent a quick text to her asking where/when it was, jokingly asking if I was still invited because I couldn't find it on Facebook anymore. No response.

I then tried to check her profile to make sure I had the weekend correct (since she was so excited her birthday was on the same day as her party), and her profile was basically empty. I was still friends with her, but obviously she had set me to limited profile, because I couldn't see anything whereas before I could see status updates, photos, etc.

I started to get this sinking feeling that I had been removed from the event. I then started feeling incredibly paranoid that I had done something wrong, that one of her other friends convinced her to uninvite me because I wasn't cool enough, etc. I quickly IMed another friend and asked her to check to see if my name was on the list. She checked, and it wasn't.

What. The. Hell.

Said friend mentioned that birthday girl was having trouble pinning down a bar, because the first venue (the one I knew about from the email) wanted too much money, blah blah blah. The next one wanted a limit on the number of people, and my other friend hypothesized that she had to "tighten up the list" a little bit.

Okay, makes sense. This was the point of where I thought, "Oh, I'm okay. She's not mad at me, she was obviously stressed and had to cull the invites, but was probably embarrassed and didn't want to directly tell me." Sure, I was a little irked that I had to find out this way -- because in reality, I would have showed up to venue #1 last night only to find no one there. But I was okay.

And I was okay last night, because I was exhausted from staying out until 2 AM Friday night (my way of coping for not having Saturday plans), and the thought of going out to a party made me want to curl up and fall asleep. But when I logged onto Facebook this eventing, and saw photos from other friends (the same ones who never came last year) having fun, I felt gutted. Honestly, who the fuck does that? I had RSVP'd. I had already said, "Yes, I am coming," and was looking forward to it. And yet she removed me from the event. It would have been one thing if I hadn't responded, but I HAD COMMITTED.

It's a good thing I'm not very close friends with her, because I would have been in tears. However, it doesn't make things hurt any less. Don't stay silent and hide behind a limited profile after uninviting someone to your party, because that's cowardly. I would have rather had her say, "I'm so sorry, things have changed and I have to leave some people off the list. Let's grab drinks later blah blah blah blah..."

I'm angry. I did text her an innocuous "Happy Birthday" last night, partially hoping it would make her feel guilty for what she did. Shit happens, I get it. But she made things worse by not being honest, and I'm not happy feeling left out like I was in elementary school.

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

It gets inside and it tears you up

I considered writing this blog last night when I was drunk on happy hour margaritas, but unfortunately Blogger hasn't made a mobile website yet. It's too bad, because I felt like I had some really profound things to say, but they disappeared once I fell asleep.

I did wake up with the same feeling of sadness from thinking about D. I don't understand how someone who I never even had has broken my heart so efficiently. It's not fair. Here I am: a smart, independent, financially secure, attractive young woman who has so much to offer, and instead he picked some girl 13 years younger than him who still lives off her parents and doesn't even go to college. The same chick who CHEATED ON HIM. The same girl who has no interest in changing her life for him, even though he's willing to uproot himself and move across the country to be with her. That is not how relationships are supposed to be. It's entirely one-sided: she's played him, broken his trust and heart, yet he still wants to be with her. It is Not. Fair.

I suppose it's good that he's gone MIA and doesn't return the one arbitrary text I sent him last week. I can go for days without thinking about D and feel okay, and then for a week straight I'll feel nothing but bitter and angry at her for being such a terrible person. It's not that I want him to break up with her to be with me, but so she gets hurt. I want Jailbait to feel what I felt when I was shot down last year by D, after months of grappling with my feelings, putting myself out there, and ultimately getting rejected.

It seems like it's always this way: the horrible girls get the guy (case in point: Blake), while the decent ones end up lost and alone. And as a result, it eats away at me and makes me ugly inside, which reflects outwardly.

I know the cure for something like this is finding a new guy. Yet I have absolutely no desire to get on OKCupid and go on dates. I can't sit here and feel sorry for myself when I'm not willing to get off my ass and make the effort to bury my feelings of animosity. I wish I had one of those neuralyzers from Men in Black that makes you forget things and puts you in a hypnotic state. I wish I could forget everything about D and be told to move on with my life.

I suppose that's progress: I wanted to change myself, rather than fantasizing about taking a neuralyzer and zapping D so he'd forget he ever met Jailbait. ;-)

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

And I can't find myself again

I have accomplished next-to-nothing at work in the past month. No, seriously, NOTHING.

I don't know if it's because my job has a ton of flexibility in terms of deadlines, but it's horrible because I have no self-discipline to actually get anything done, nor do I have any fear that I'll get canned. What's even worse is that I get commended all the time for crap that literally took 5 minutes to do as if it had taken me two months to accomplish, because my managers aren't techy people at all.

I suppose I can attribute a lot of this to my previous job at a government contracting firm – I was bounced around from project to project, had three different managers in the span of a year, and basically neglected and ignored. I could literally leave the office for three hours at a time to have my hair cut at a nearby mall, come back, and no one noticed or cared. At another location/project, I'd down downstairs and take a nap in my car in the parking garage some afternoons. Who does that?!

Fortunately, I actually like my new job. I'm paid about 35% more than I was at my old job, which is amazing. The benefits are kind of terrible (namely, our health insurance is abhorrent), but I really like my co-workers and projects.

So, that being said, why can't I get motivated? They're consolidating the contracts in my office, which in theory should terrify me, but in reality no one would/should get fired. (Although, honestly, I'd be happy if they kept me in my position but allowed me to work directly for the government. Sweet, sweet benefits, job security, more holidays, and they pay for my transit.) My work itself isn't boring – once I get started on something, I enjoy it and feel committed – but at the same time, I have a lot of things I'm juggling with no concrete deadlines, so sometimes I'll get distracted by one project to work on another, then have a hard time coming back to it.

Someone, please, light a fire under my ass. Or at least block my internet.

Thursday, January 3, 2013

Somehow I've lost my mind

Heh. So D has resurfaced, after like 2 months of not talking to me. (I did sent him a "Merry Christmas!" text, because I was feeling festive at the time.) I haven't responded to his two sentence email yet, because it included the phrase "things seem to be constantly changing," and Facebook says he's still dating Jailbait. [Insert eyeroll here.] I also had a dream about him last night: he broke up with her because she wanted to get married, even though they've only been dating about a year and she's, oh, 21. Then he walked over to me and hugged me for about 10 minutes while she stood there. Awkward.

Anyway, I've managed to keep my mind off D by creepily FB-stalking a friend of a former co-worker's... whom (who?) I've never met. (Hey, we have four mutual friends, so I practically know him. Right.)  Facebook sucks because former co-worker show up in my newsfeed, so I noticed this mystery guy in a group photo with him. I slammed on the mouse brakes and thought, "Oh my HOTNESS, I have to meet this dude." Doesn't help that I can see all his profile photos so I know it's not a one-photo fluke... brown hair, blue eyes, and a pretty nice body. ;-)

Oh... and what's that, co-worker is in my circles on Google Plus and has mystery guy in HIS circles? I can't help but click on his profile and stare at amazement at his info, which links to Twitter (thus linking to Instagram) and ten Picasa albums, revealing he likes to road bike, ski, hike, and play guitar. (Virtually throws bra at screen.)  Oh, and LinkedIn says he works near my apartment (he's a second degree connection, so I don't feel entirely weird).

This is really, really annoying, because now I really want to meet him. And now I feel like a total creepy stalker for wanting to accidentally bump into him at some FB-invite event since, oh yeah, I can see those too on his profile. Fucking Facebook is making this way too easy. Thankfully, there are no upcoming event invites in his list (yet).

Is this what I've been reduced to? Constructing a prospective boyfriend through his various online profiles? Either he's a social media 'ho (which former co-worker is... dude is literally on everything) and/or doesn't care about his privacy, which still makes me feel even lecherous for flipping through almost all of his photos. There's Googling-before-a-date-because-he-might-be-a-convict stalking, and then there's me: "His brother's in a band, and if they play here in town, he's bound to be there!" Someone please slap me.

And, finally: I don't even know if this dude has a girlfriend. He could be gay! He could be a total asshole! He may think I'm an asshole if I ever meet him! But thanks to my deluded little mind, I'm lusting over him based on a handful of information and a bunch of photos.

Ye gods. I need to get myself back to the online dating world, because I cannot allow myself to think this way. I feel like such an idiot. (And please, please don't judge me.)