xmas wishes... or something

Yesterday was the traditional Basler family xmas dinner. I got time off of work to go. I like my family, they are hilarious. there's great food involved, and, being the oldest of the grandkids, i no longer have to corale the small children because there are several other kids old enough to do it. There is however, a strange rush of power when i do choose to get involved and just have to say "[name], stop kicking your brother and get off the floor," and have them freeze in terror and do what i say. I told one of the medium aged kids that if i heard him scream "presents" at one more person before actually giving them a hug or saying hello, i was going to pinch him so hard he cried. He listened and i did not have to pinch him, because he knew i would do it.

I enjoy time with my family because i am a product of my environment.


Fun times at my Aunt Ellen's house were overshadowed by my grandmother.


So, i am the oldest grandchild. My father has 5 brothers and sisters, resulting in 14 grandkids and one spoiled dog all together. My aunt Marianne passes out presents from my grandmother because she has been brought to the hospital against her will. Caitlin and i are sitting on the couch joking around about how we're too old to get gifts because our grandmother forgets our birthday's and such. Marianne tosses a card to Cait and she moves on to the next bag. Caitlin looks at me. My face drops. She open her card and in it is $20 and a christmas ornament with a picture of her in it taken the hospital after her birth. I couldn't believe my gadma had forgotten me again. I nearly lost it in the living room. I got up and ran into the bathroom and started sobbing uncontolably.

It's not that i didn't get a present. I couldn't care less about 20 bucks. THe ornament was cute, but unnecessary to my mental health. It was that i had been overlooked. I was the only one.

I go back to the living room after calming down, ask cait if i look ok and watch the little kids. Marianne is passing out the last of the gifts to the adults from my Grandma. They are packages of fudge. Someone makes a joke about the year she gave out wrapped cans of chicken broth (to go with the homade tortellinis she had stored in teh freezer). Marianne sees me on the couch lokkes in teh bagf and starts rummaging under the tree. She resurfaces and i just shrug, because i don't want anyone to notice how upseet i am.

Fortunately, i had to leave to get to work. I'm pretty sure Marianne said something to my dad because it was brought up on the ride home, according to cait. I asked her what they said and she responded, "Not much."

Basler Xmas 2004= excellent food, funtimes, realization that my grandmother doesn't realize i exist. Yay, i'm a fucking grown up.

Technical Difficulties

So after much ado, my website is up, running and BEEEYOUTEEFUL!!!

Yesterday, I couldn't figure out why it wasn't uploading my webpage. So I call the help line and the guy puts me through my paces and finally tells me the problem is my internet connection. I bring the CD with my files on it to work and get permission from out store manager to use one of the computers in the office to upload my website which is a huge hoosiewho process. I get into the management website and it won't take my files. I was almost in tears. I went downstairs to smoke a butt and commiserate with my favorite person in the store, Erin from security.

I thought I was going to have to start from scratch to get the damn thing up. I foresaw a night full of coding and coffee. Instead of going straight home from work, I went over to sheena's to play for awhile (aka 4 in the morning).

I get the info line back on the phone today and the guy is like it must be the program, so on and so forth, and he walks me through stuff.

It turns out that I had to type /www in the directory address space.


48 hours of frustration leads to me feeling retarded.

Two Sides of the Same Coin

I have, in fact, heard
that under pressing circumstances
for all the co-habitants
defying all natural
inclinations to stay with
familiarity,
a pea can change its pod.

It's rare, I'm told, but
of course, if we do
not mean actual
vegetables, instead refer
to the cliche of two
or more people who have
similarities
it is easy to do.

It's as simple as
saying why would I
want to be in a pod
with people who
although they aren't who
they seem, aren't content
with what I am
no longer being a pea

My best friend from high school always refered to his other best friend and i as two sides of the same coin. Now that we don't have to see eachother ever day we are. We're teh peas in the pod, even though we'd never admit it.

I came across some craziness when running through my greatest hits of blogging:

"I signed his year book and we took pictures and he systematically destroyed my self esteem right before we had a long discussion about valentines day stuffed animals and the pros and cons of hitting people with bricks."

it's rare you find someone with your exact same anger management issues.

My world is colliding.

About a week ago, my friend Tara, who i know from her saving my scarf and eating too much friendly's, split with her boyfriend. A few days later we went out to dinner with Matt Gangi and they started talking about Toy's R Us, a common workplace between them. They were talking about guys who still work their and Tara said, "I went out the other night with Greg P., Dan Macaroni, and Rob J."

I KNOW Rob J. I've known him for almost 9 years. Haven't seen him in 4. I get a call on Saturday afternoon telling me to leave work early to come hang out. So i spent a large quantity of the weekend with Rob, Tara, Dan "Tall Kid"M. and Greg.

Today I got ahold of this kid i used to know from camp and talked to him a little bit. And HE'S living in WILMINGTON!!!!!!!


wow. It's amazing how small my world is.