I am very frustrated right now with a lot of different things.

• My sister is ridiculous.
• Mike's mother may move back to Idaho (which is both good and bad).
• I dislike my living situation.
• I have to train my new boss.

I can fix one of these four issues. The other three are just going to drive me insane.

I am tired of the cold

My new GM is arriving this weekend. I hear she is young and has a three year old son. I hope things go alright.

Poem

*I didn't write this; but I do like it. Here is where I found it: http://mngamojemo.deviantart.com/art/Grazing-Dinosaurs-For-Shame-21399985

See here. She moves
like something's missing, like in a dream
of things primordial, long-tailed scooted dinosaurs
that skulk around the bushes. Shame.

To wonder why the next who speaks
repeats the thing you said, recieves
the gentle laugh. To think
to chit-chat.
Just be content
that no-one speaks and swinging
tails of horseshoe crabs avoid
your legs.

Out there the whales collide with ships, the kraken
dance. My love whose ears are just like shells,
I hear the ocean pressed against them, knows.
The fairies hate a liar and a thief.

My love whose eyes are alabaster knows.

You've plumped up
like a dumpling, firm and ragged. Look at me
when you speak. You asked if
there were rules to being real.

She moves like in a nightmare of the England
overrun by wolves. So let
the forest have her, if it comes
to that. For shame.

The eight-foot terror-cranes once strode tall
the savanna, snatching
horses. The name
that many races call themselves
is "only people".

My love is this:
someone who lies about all day
in peace, on cushions, whose eyes
are alabaster, whose ears
hear only sea. My love
holds water. My love
can stare and stare as something
makes the noise of ten excited crowds
outside our door.

You are a walker.
Ragged shoes and hobnailed
feet and toes clawed
like a raptor, but arms
as far from graceful, noble wings as steel
is far from cardboard in
the road, and tracked
with mud-soaked
treads.

Tired and with pupils
spread like dull and rusty pans.
She stays awake that time
that could be any day. Why can you not
be like the rest, who chit-chat?

It's just
like talking to a syphilitic.
No taste in clothes.
No sense
of urgency.
(God gave that to a flea!)

The fairies in the corners glare
with all the hate they have for mortal folk.
Milk curdles in your place,
things move and letters from your words go
missing.

Be real and true or things go badly.

Shame.

Mike has a dog; which pretty much means I have a dog. I love the dog. She is sweet and well behaved. She sheds a lot though. There is one thing I absolutely hate and it is animal hair on my clothes and all over everything I own. I vaccuum constantly. I can't wait until it warms up so I can shave her hair off.

I finished the last book in the Twilight series this morning and I am still debating on if I like it or not.

I am trying to find motivation to clean the bedroom.

Grandma

This makes me roll on the floor laughing. I wonder if I can convince my grandma to do this . . .

I found the picture here: http://sean-tron.deviantart.com/gallery/

I found out a few days ago that I did not get the GM position. I honestly thought the job was mine. I have been doing the GM's job for almost three years now, and I am really at a loss knowing that some stranger person is coming in less than two months and taking over my hotel. I am having a very hard time with this. I believe that I deserve the job. I plan on making some phone calls tomorrow and Tuesday to find out just why I didn't get it. They owe me that much right?

Maybe I am being ridiculous.