To The Legion Of People Looking Out For Me Who Like To Kick Ass

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As you all are gathering, the past week and a half has been a little rough. If you haven't picked up on that yet, let me assure you, it was. I just wanted to say a huge round of thanks to all my cheerleaders. Who have each fielded roughly fifty-seven calls from me in the past three days. The words of encouragement are listened to, read and poured over more than you will ever know.

To The Best Boyfriend of The Best Sister: I am at a loss for words when it comes to expressing gratitude to you. Not only have you been like an older brother--squashing lecherous trolls and taking up my cause--but you have kept me believing that I can do this. Even when I call you on the verge of tears. Thank you for assuring me that if I get myself fired, you will give me a job. You have no idea how well I will sleep tonight because of that. I am thinking quite seriously of naming my firstborn after you.

To The Best Sister I: Thank you for refreshing my memory in hateful things to say to people. Thank you for getting angry FOR me. It is so much more effective than ME getting angry. Thank you for answering my tear-soaked text messages. Thank you for letting me intrude on dinner/work/conversations so I could pour out my many tales of woe. Thank you for being a very protective older sister who is helping me learn to stand up for MYSELF. Thank you for reminding me that boys will always be boys (with the exception of the Best Boyfriend) and it is my job to remind them that I can squash them.

To The Best Sister II: Thank you for bringing me Starbucks at work. Thank you for sending me perky text-messages reminding me to sell more cars. Thank you for being excited about me selling cars. Thank you for reminding me that I can do it. And if I can't, I have other job offers, DAMMIT! Thank you for telling me I look like I have lost weight. Thank you for keeping my spirits high. In a very non-substance altered sort of way.

To The Patronage Who I Call My Father: Thank you for reminding me that I can do this, no matter what. Because, surely, anyone who can work in a restaurant, can sell cars. No? Thank you for giving me clever lines to say and different organizations to contact if this continues. Thank you for reminding me, I DO NOT HAVE TO WORK THERE, but since I do, you will continue to cheer me up.

To The Starbucks Barista Who Gives Me Free Coffee And Doesn't Read This So I Have No Idea Why I Am Writing This On Here: Thank you for your contribution to my addiction. Being able to walk into these confrontations on caffeine highs really helps. And thank you for asking if I was alright when I was crying in Starbucks tonight.

To Queen Of Slackers: Who sent me a fabulous card with all sorts of kind things in it. Thank you. I laughed aloud and the timing couldn't have been better. However, contrary to what the card said, today I was NOT wearing a fabulous outfit. I was wearing white pants. And it rained. And everytime I wear these pants it rains. And the bottom foot and a half of these pants were soaked. And then they turned black. And it was not pretty at all. But perhaps tomorrow I shall wear a fabulous outfit. And if not, perhaps you shall have to come shopping with me to remedy this.

To The Blog Readers Who Leave Me Comments That Are Flattering And Make Me Smile And Laugh: I know it seems trivial, but seeing the comments and encouragement from such a wide variety of people really makes a difference. It sounds really corny, I know. And I hate to tell you this, but I cannot name my second born after you all. Unless we come up with some sort of conglomerate name.

As you can see, I am blessed with an abundance of people who care. And for that and that only I should be able to have a good day and look on the bright side. Thank you for putting up with my whining, ranting and tears.

Feel The Porkchop Love.

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This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.

I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.

the past


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