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Showing posts from June, 2001
I have some things I need to should do and would like to do this weekend. Let's make a list? Shall we?

1. Take back the ever growing piles of beer/twisted tea/dna/lime tonic/pepsi cans/bottles to the store for refund. It's nice and magical to get 5-cents back even though you get charged that when you buy the beverages. We just try to ignore that so we feel like we're being given money!

2. Read the two library books that are due back on Tuesday. Damn those new book 7 day limits! One is a mystery invovling an Egyptologist (and no, not my favourite Amelia Peabody mysteries either!)

I interrupt this list to happily announce that I FINALLY found some My Life With The Thrill Kill Kult to download! Hoorah! "A Daisy Chain for Satan" is rippling through my speakers right now.

3. Maybe get some laundry done. Now, that's a real pie in the sky dream for this weekend!

4. Go see the "largest fireworks display in Western NY this summer" in Sheridan. How…
I feel like I've landed in a strange paradise.

I had lunch today at the public park here in the village of Mayville. An idyllic scene floated in front of me. Kids fishing off the boat landing. The weeping willow dripping trendles of leaves just above the water's surface. And the horizon shimmering in the summer's haze across the lake. I wondered how I found this place. Then I realized that I found it by looking for a job on the Internet, sending a resume, getting the job and moving here two years ago. I never thought I could really love living in Chautauqua County.

I must admit I feel a little bit traitorous. I'll sing the praises of Rochester, NY to anyone in shouting distance. I miss that place. Undoubtedly the coffeehouse this blog is inspired by. But that is part of my past and the present is here in this bosom-y country. Ahem, that is a reference to Dar Williams' vision of Iowa.. which is also a song by her.

After I ate, I walked along the gr…
Besides tea/coffee, I discovered that my morning/day really doesn't feel complete if I havn't read my two favourite cartoons: For Better, or For Worse and Luann. Luann is a fairly new one for me since I've only been reading it since I moved down to Jamestown. FBFW has been a mainstay for YEARS.

Ooops! Going to be late for a meeting if I don't post this and go! Bye!
*yawns* Another morning after a long, late day at work. I'm the Executive Assistant to the County Executive. So I attend A LOT of meetings. The latest (and it was!) being the monthly Legislature voting session. It ended around 9:30pm (started at 6:30). At first we all thought we would be getting out quick and still have time to get home, sit on the porch, read a book, or (like me) post to our blogs. Well, an hour and a half discussion on one resolution made that impossible. So it goes.

A friend of mine recently revealed they keep their own blog. I cannot reveal names under penalty of death, but I thought this was very cool of this person. In a way, it takes a lot of guts to really talk about your personal life on-line. Well, only if you tell other people you actually know and see on a daily basis. Otherwise, what would the outside world really give if you hated your best friend or you lied about doing something you said you did? Hm.

What do YOU do for a job? Tell me
*grumbles* That last question was supposed to ask you what your main gripe about your office space is.. The mysteries of blogger.com never fail *grins*

So let's try this again.. ahem.. email here about the aforementioned gripes.
It's absolutely freezing in this office. Argh.

A couple weeks ago it was so cold in the office that one of the men commented "Get some hooks and hang up the meat!" It was unquestionably cold then. Men seem to think that women just cannot tolerate any temperature below 75 degrees. I won't disagree entirely but I do take offense to the scoffing of "Aw come one. It's not THAT cold!" They'll have to be careful when they say that since I'm beginning to think I shall dump a packet of ice down their shorts and then ask them if it still feels "comfortable." *nods* Ok, I'm not that sadistic or stupid. So you know.

What's your main <a href="mailto:jciesla@madbbs.com>gripe</a> about your office space?
I can't sleep. This happens when my brain decides to wake up and pour over worries upon worries. The latest being the tightening of certain items of clothing. Grr. Well, I always said I needed to form some sort of exercise plan. I can't help but smirk at that. Ahhh.. I could denounce what society has done to women in terms of body image, but truthfully.. I buy into it a tad bit. SO sad. But I have a plan *she says with false confidence* Never mind that. The real thing that prodded me out of bed was the thought that I could actually add some more things to this blog-thing.

It does seem to be a different animal to me. I've seen how it's taken over the lives of other seemingly innocent people. Go read notsosoft.com if you have no idea what I'm talking about. The woman is brilliant! Simply put! Maybe I do need some sleep.

I do feel a need to explain "In Java, Literally..." It all started in Java Joe's Cafe right before a violin lesson (a…
Sense of Java, literally...

I inhaled the aroma swirling around in my mug. For a moment... as my music tinkled in the background.. I was back. Sitting by myself at a round table in the corner at Java Joes. Eyeing the door for a familiar face. Music and voices competing with each other. Regular cigarette smoke mingling with the more exotic essence of cloves.

The sweetness of iced coffee. The sugar extra heavy when compared with my usual concoction for Java's coffee. A waitress moves between the tables sullenly. Wiping clean surfaces and then suddenly smiling as she cracks a joke with a friend near by.

I also remember the pain. Knowing that the moment would not last. That this was the only place I could feel like that. All that it symbolized. And the pain of knowing I could never reclaim the past. The exhileration of this place when I was younger. The energy of people. Those moments. A memory. Realizing my age is beginning to exceed most of the patrons. The only ir…