FUUUUUUUCK

Yep, that's about it.

I guess the jelly of the month club would've been too generous

Or, "Seriously, my job has morphed from Office Space to National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation."

I'm still on jury duty, but have so far had the fortune of not getting called for seating so far today (a story about the trial I was on last week is forthcoming).

Anyhoodle, the current state of affairs provided me time to check in with work, as I did just a couple of minutes ago. It was then when I opened one gem of an e-mail from one of The Powers That Be. To wit: Instead of having a review (and, hopefully, raise) at the beginning of the year, we're to have it on the anniversary of our employment. Only ... mine was in September, and I have yet to have the review or see any of the desperately needed cash. Oh, and as to that (paltry, but still needed) holiday bonus? They don't do that sort of thing. Instead, we've been told, we can be eligible for a program that pays out bonuses to select employees for outstanding performances if -- and only if -- the company exceeds expected revenue for the month.

It's called "Lightning Strikes."

Um, I think I have an idea of the liklihood of actually landing one of these.

Smash my head on the punk rock

Ah, insomnia. How I've missed you, my dear friend. I mean, sure, I've spent many a sleep deprived night, but for me to be awake now -- 1:40 a.m. early Tuesday, after getting up at 4:45 a.m. Monday, after going to bed at 1:30 a.m. Monday -- is quite the trick.

I am so proud.

So yeah, it's been a while. Sorry 'bout that. I sometimes forget that anyone other than me looks at this thing. Not that the last month hasn't been eventful: we traveled to Ithica, NY, for our friends' wedding, a trip that also included an opportunity to visit the Farm Sanctuary (and for me to take a related guilt trip regarding the inconsistencies in the philosophy backing my ovo-lacto-vegetarianism), I took a trip with friends to an alpaca farm in Pataskala, I kicked all of Kyle's kin's asses in a rousing game of miniature golf at Udders & Putters this past weekend (nothing like beating a 7-year-old to make me feel good), I compared my career trajectory to that of my friends and found myself coming up short, I once again thought about that nagging presence of that daggone ex-pal and wished I could, as everyone has begged me, just let it go, for cripe's sake, I stuck my finger up Sollie's butt at least once a day to give him the medicine he needs in lieu of the surgery I can't quite afford (and which will likely remain unattainable for the foreseeable future, given that the powers that be have eliminated in-house freelancing at work), I cleaned house, did laundry, started tennis lessons again, read a book about the modern American wedding industry that led me to feel that any way we choose to celebrate our union will be a massively materialistic event, I did some vanity googling, I reinvigorated my addiction to online Boggle and, thanks to Anne and Clark, developed a new addiction to computer mahjongg. Oh, and tonight, I drank one-third of a bottle of cheap white wine in hopes that it might lead me to sleep. You can see how well that worked.

Yeah.

Oh, and I drank somewhere around eight cups of coffee today. But I'm sure that has nothing to do with anything, right?

Right.

So, yeah, my apologies to all two of you reading this here thing. My hope is to become less frenzied ... someday.

The beatings will continue until morale improves

So, yeah, my thoughts on this thing are as such: While this blog began as a way to share all the ever-lovin' deets on our trip to Japan (and I still have stuff to add in that regard), I had some thoughts about eventually turning this into a crafty gig, alongside another blog (to be described later). Indeed, that is still the plan -- with some minor alterations. I *still* have some words and pictures to share about the that trip, and I *still* plan on putting my crafty efforts on this here thing, but I can't go further without acknowledging this: the last 48 hours have been simply awful.

Our company was sold shortly before I left, and the consequences of that sale started to shake out while I was halfway around the world. Yesterday, the other shoe dropped. I got to work late Thursday, delayed by a press conference and a stop to buy band-aids for the oozing sores left behind after I scratched at the bug bites covering my arms, legs and torso. Anyway. I watched as our boss appeared to escort one of our part-timers out the door. And there was whispering ... lots of worried looks and muffled talk around the ol' workplace. When all was said and done, I had a lot fewer coworkers than I had when the day began. The coworker with the cute shoes and the cuter dog? Gone. As was the grandmotherly receptionist with whom I've exchanged the same daily patter with for years, the photographer with the short gym shorts, the verbose sports writer and many more ... They were redundant. There were meetings. Then they were gone.

There's more I could say, more I would like to say, but I need to keep Sollie in kibble and myself in Tofutti Cuties, so I'll stop for now and just say that I haven't cried this much in a long time -- and I'm one of the luckier ones.

So let's try something a little bit lighter, shall we? Here's a blog entry I should have written, well, almost two months to the day, now. Remember that ferris wheel ride? Welp, I left out some details. Most of you have probably heard them by now, but for the latecomers, a story:

Did I talk about how tall that ferris wheel was? It was tall, very tall, and I was nervous to ride it. Fortunately for me, Kyle appeared even more nervous, even though we were there at his insistence. Mike had me convinced that we should skip it altogether and head to a tall building in a livelier part of town, but Kyle protested, puppy dog eyes and all, and we agreed to the original plan of riding it, one he had set on the long drive from the Osaka airport to Ichinomiya, its lights setting off a glow in the nighttime sky.

So yeah, we three clambered into the glass enclosure of the ferris wheel car together, Kyle and I on one side and Mike on another. The windows were etched with line drawings of different sights we could see from the sky -- a mountain here, an Santa Maria replica ship there (don't ask me why). A recorded voice, speaking Japanese and English in turns, described our view. All the while, Kyle glanced over his shoulder, his back to the wheel's axis. He's freaking out about the height and he wants to know when we get to the top, so he knows the worst is over, I explained to Mike. But then when we got to the top, Kyle turned to me and smile, his tight grin forming a perfect U-shape. Jenny, I wanted to know: will you marry me? Me being me, I had to fight the compulsion to make a joke, and kept it simple: Yes.

There's more of course, tremblyness and teary eyes and a moment of Wait. What the fuck just happened? running through my head, but I've already written so much, your tender eyes are probably sore with strain. Anyway, this leads me to what I mentioned at the beginning of this entry. You can now find my (at present limited) wedding and marriage-related blatherings at nochickendance.blogspot.com.

Gomennasi

Before we left, co-worker Jen told me gomennasi, or, "so sorry," would be a phrase worth knowing, as we'd inevitably find ourselves making mistakes left and right in Japan. Welp, I haven't had opportunity to use it since our arrival last night, when we were on the receiving of several "so sorrys."

We were in Osaka. Our bags, said the man who greeted us at the entrance to the baggage claim area, were ... somewhere else. And they still are somewhere ... else. Where they are remains unclear.*

And I, I smell, thanks to a.) using hippie deodorant b.) last showering Saturday (today is, er, Tuesday, although I did leap ahead by a day thanks to the magic of time zones, making me *slightly* less disgusting than the timeline would imply) c.) hiking twice already today in Haga, a nearby town, where we saw a waterfall, and a castle, two snakes and an unbelievably clear, blue stream.

Anyway.

Japan so far -- and Ichinomiya, the town Colleen and Mike live in, is amazing. I would show you pictures, but the card reader is in my luggage, which is ... you get the idea. We made the three-hour drive last night in the dark, so it wasn't until this morning that we got a good look around. Flying on a pole outside of our bedroom window -- and throughout the village, we later discovered, are fish-shaped windsocks, one for each child in a family. The houses are small and close together, perched on the edge of narrow winding roads, and many with small rice patties along side them, the first green sprigs of the rice plants beginning to poke out. Mountains, lush with trees, surround the village. The trees, Mike, our tour guide while Colleen worked, were actually planted post-World War II as part of the reconstruction effort and are beginning to tumble in their old age.

Colleen and Mike's apartment is small and reportedly overrun with what Mike has named the "mold monster," - humidity is quite the problem here, apparently -- but it is, just like the brand of their television, Precious. Downstairs is their small kitchen, with a dorm-sized fridge and equally wee (and pastel-colored) food processor and coffee maker. The stove range has two burners, with the oven, slightly larger than a toaster, separate. Also separate are the toilet and the shower/tub rooms, of which I will get into greater detail later.

But now you must excuse me -- I have sumo to watch. Later: a recap on the visit to Seattle and our near-missed flight, the Honolulu airport and the "warmlet."

*Ah, Mike got a call while I was writing this! Our suitcases are here! And by "here" I mean, "here, in Japan," but they will be here at the apartment by tomorrow afternoon. Clean underwear might be more than a dream after all.