prick

I've encountered two pricks this week.

The first was a porcupine in my apt complex. It was dark and I was walking to the laundry room to get my clothes out of the dryer. I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye and thought it was a fat little dog, but something about the shape was weird. I looked again and I realized it was a porcupine. I stopped and when the shock of seeing a porcupine in the city wore off, he/she/it caught a sniff of me when the wind shifted and bristled up. Then just as quick the quills relaxed and it ambled off in the same direction I was headed. I got my clothes and it was still around where I first saw it. So I dashed back to my apt, dropped off the clothes and grabed a little disposable camera. When I found it again, it was rooting in the grass and didn't seem too bothered by the flash of the little camera. It moved casually toward the nearest tree and climbed a foot up then paused, another foot, then paused. I took several pictures from different angles. From what I could tell in the dark (and having never seen a live porcupine) it seemed to have a inquistive cute little face. I left it in the tree and on my way home stopped off at the manager's apt to let her know. Her husband said someone else saw it the day before I did.

The second prick is actually one I work with. A weasle actually. He goes on about how he's worked in the graphics industry and how much he knows, etc, etc. So he and another guy did the borders for the pages of the catalog. When they were done, I placed them and didn't pay much, if any, attention to the margin and bleeds. I figured between them they have enough sense to leave 1/4" since that is pretty much standard with the printers and magazines we advertise in.

The proofs for the first 126 pages I sent in came back this morning. On the sheet it was noted that ALL pages have issues with graphical elements in the margin and at risk for getting cut off when the pages are trimmed. Wonderful. I made a few phone calls, had lunch, thought it over and decided that to pay $34.50 per page in corrections to move a little logo over 1/16th of an inch was silly. I was all for leaving it and taking our chances with the trimming machine.

Weasle Prick keeps asking me what I think we should do. One, that's your job, your my supervisor, two, we're talking over $4000 in corrections. I finally got him to get off his fat lazy ass and we'd go see the the prick's supervisor. Being at the bottom of the totem pole and knowing the effects of gravity and how shit rolls downhill, I was prepared for the lashing I was going to get from not watching the margins. Bigger boss says 'Weasle Prick, how could you let this happen?' Weasle prick says, 'I guess 'cause I'm an incompetant idiot' and blah blah blah, I'm so stupid, it's amazing I'm still employed, and all this other bullshit. Managers love to hear you call yourself an idiot for screwing up, even if it's not your fault.

It was decided that we'd (I'd) only correct the right hand pages and leave the other side to chance since the left side was a bit more within the margin. I thanked bigger boss, told him we'd still be able to make deadline and went back to my desk leaving weasle prick to smooze and ass kiss.

The Road Never Traveled (at least by me)

On the 17th I have an appointment with a buyers agent about houses. I called and said I have no idea where to start. I know kinda what I want in a house, but nothing beyond that. Yesterday I went to the library and returned Unquiet Mind (which I never finished and basically talked about her manic and depressive episodes as the years went by. Yawn.)

I checked out 4 books on home buying. Home Buying for Dummies was at a different library and I would have to request it and wait a few weeks to get.

Catalog is almost done. I sent out 127 pages Thursday. So all that's left are first 16 pages and the cover. Of the 16 pages only 2 of them are uncompleted and those are the table of contents pages. If you ever have to work with or in the publishing industry, they like documents to be in multiples of 4. If you send them a file with 15 pages, it gets their panties in a twist and they'll charge you quite a bit more for the trouble. Last year I was their wet dream as the catalog was in a multiple of 32. (32 pages in a signature so they didn't have to cut a roll of paper).

momma stress

I went home over the weekend. Didn't really want to, but did because mom kept asking me when I was going to be down and that I 'haven't been home since the last weekend in July'

Now I know why I don't go home often.

Me and mom went to the car wash. It was a pretty day and I had two windows down in my car, but it was still a bit too cool to wash using the hose, so we opted for the automatic wash. I put the money in and as I was creeping forward and rolling the windows up at the same time, mom snapped 'you better roll the windows up!' 'That's what I'm doing right now!' I snapped back. 'Now you don't have to be so hateful,' she said. It was a knee jerk reaction, but lately with her the words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

Her tone of voice was sharp and scolding like I had been caught drawing on the walls. It's like that every time I go home, she finds fault in whatever I do (or don't do) and is critical or scolds me for it. Then when I try to defend myself she accuses me of being hateful or in a nasty mood. This is why I haven't been home, mom. Because I'm tired of your shit.

In therapy Dana said she was crossing my boundries and by not going home, I can keep her at a distance. I don't want to go home for Thanksgiving. But then it wouldn't be fair to Dad or my brother since they aren't involved. Maybe I'll just go down for the day and come back that night. I still have a few weeks to think about it.