musical houses grinds to a halt

Due to certain houses still not yet being ready for occupancy, E.H.* is still here at Chez Melina. It's not all bad - he's done a lot of yard work and helps keep the place tidy. But I really thought I'd gotten to the point where I didn't have to share this money pit with anyone any more.

I suppose it's indicative of my own inflexibility in the domestic arena. But I get really annoyed to come home after shaolin class, only to find that someone else drank all my juice. And E.H. keeps buying food that he knows I like but shouldn't eat, so now I spend too much time on the scales, making sure I'm not regaining on the weight that was so difficult to lose. I'm not obsessed with being a stick insect; it's just that less weight equals more kung fu agility.

the powerful odor of mendacity

Although I really wished the film hadn't been dehomofied, Cat On a Hot Tin Roof still had some good lines. Most belonged to either Elizabeth Taylor or Burl Ives, aka Big Daddy.

Although I can't remember the subject matter, I still remember Burl Ives muttering about a powerful odor of mendacity:

What's that smell in this room? Didn't you notice it, Brick? Didn't you notice a powerful and obnoxious odor of mendacity in this room?...There ain't nothin' more powerful than the odor of mendacity...

I'm beginning to think this is going on with my severance. Besides being insulting, it seems that I should have been given 21 days to check out the details per ADEA guidelines. This is because I'm over 40 and could possibly suffer age discrimination. (Yes, this makes me giggle, considering the level of immaturity I often display.)

Although I'm tempted to simply call Getalife HR and ask WTF is going on, others have advised me to go straight to an employment attorney. I think I'll have to do a little research first. I still think I'm hosed as far as severance pay goes, as I have no cards to play. But if they're not playing by the rules, I would be happy to spank them.

Lingerie addicts, rejoice!

Earlier today, I happened upon some blogs featuring nothing but the newest upscale lingerie. Even though it's a bit painful to look at stuff I'm not going to buy until I'm working again, one can always plot and scheme.

Here they are -- enjoy, although they are not really safe for work unless you have an office with a door you can close.

http://www.thelingerieaddict.com/

http://www.petite-coquette.co.uk/

http://froufroufashionista.blogspot.com/

no Bad Tea?

I'm growing a bit concerned about Maurice and his Bad Tea blog. It's gone from an error message to a generic godaddy message. Anyone know wassup?

the buzz

Although I'm not 100% sure what it means, my post-unemployment mood is still composed of a major sense of relief and a renewed libido. Not that there was much wrong with the latter before last week, but logic and passion are rarely found sharing the same office. And the intangible qualities of sex have always fascinated me, even when my interest in sex was in low gear.

One of my former workmates dropped by earlier in the week to deliver the belongings from my desk, since I was not allowed to pack and remove them myself. (Why does our corporate culture condone this policy of treating their employees like criminals when firing them? I'd never treat another person in similar fashion unless he or she had been fired for theft.)

My ex-colleague also brought an atmosphere of fear and anger with her. Now the entire department fears they'll be treated in the same humiliating fashion if and when they're fired, so there's been a rash of desk emptying and computer deletions. She also seemed to feel sorry for me, which annoyed me a bit. Not only do I hate being pitied, I didn't deserve it. It's not like she caught me putting my head in the oven. But she seemed genuinely upset by the situation and I admit I did find this rather touching.

In addition, the entire department is pissed off as T.D.* and her two semi-literate minions are attempting to do my job, and not doing it well at all. They know zilch about the inner workings of a mortgage lender.

On the domestic front, Estranged Husband (E.H.) continues to cheerfully pack up his things and attend his appointments while he waits for his son and his wife to vacate his next house. Best of all, he's already arranged for the Car From Hell to be towed south to be repaired, so he can a) drive it and b) finish paying for it. If anyone spies me doing a Naked Celebration Dance in the next week or so, it's because the Car From Hell has been towed out of my driveway.

My only slight frustration has been caused by waiting for my next assignation with OOD*. But in some ways, the frustration adds to the intensity of the pleasure I feel when the appropriate time and place appears. And anticipation often contributes to salacious new erotic fantasies. Perhaps I should begin to write more naughty stories for public consumption, instead of keeping my literary moonlighting enterprise limited to Special Orders Only.

* See Key to Characters at right.