I figured I’d finish up my lunch break by posting an update. If you visit this regularly, you’ll note that the template keeps changing. I think I’m going to settle on this one, though. I like the blue-gray-black look. Very sleek.

Meg and I celebrated our two-year (!!) anniversary on the 13th, and she treated me to a weekend at Harrah’s in Atlantic City. Unfortunately luck wasn’t on my side, but Meg was making money everywhere - video poker (she got four Ace’s - who does that??), penny slots (all I could hear was “ding, ding, ding, ding, ding” over and over again, and her first ever poker game with real poker players and real money. So she was happy, and because she was happy I was happy, and it was just a great weekend. As much time as we spend together during the week, it’s a nice change when we can go away for a time and leave behind phones, computers, work, etc., just spending time together.

Becks and Ness, two of my good friends from university, have booked their flights over to the States for a ten-day visit over Easter weekend in March. I’m so excited! Undoubtedly AC will be on the cards that week as well, because I can’t see either of them turning down free alcohol; plus, it’s just a fun place to be.

In other news, I feel really strange and surprisingly upset about the death of Heath Ledger. I think it’s because it was so unexpected - he was young, clean, a new father, and, from what I gathered from interviews, quite a nice guy. It’s just a shame, really. 10 Things I Hate About You, the movie that I watched nearly every day my freshman year in college, will never be the same.

Yes, I’m alive. And I know I apologize every time I fail to post after a few months, but I mean it this time. And hopefully - let’s not kid ourselves by saying ‘definitely’ - I’ll be able to keep it up this time.

Work is busy, busy, busy as we near the end of our third quarter. I’ve become project manager for the integration process of Salesforce.com and Eloqua, a role which means I’m working closely with our Director of Sales Operations, a really nice young guy who recently quit smoking and therefore chews about 384 pieces of nicotine gum per day, and the company Webmaster - her actual title eludes me right now, but that’s basically what it is - who is a charming young woman who’s from Pakistan. This being one of my objectives, I’m pleased to say that the process was completed on Monday, leaving us with only basic testing to do.

My other objective involved applying ’search engine optimization’ techniques to our two web sites. I’m pleased to note that the initial phases of this project, ie adding the correct keywords, description, and so forth, to each of the many pages, is complete and is merely awaiting approval - the story of my life here. Seems like there’s always something that needs to be approved before further action may be taken. That’s the bureaucratic process for you!

With regard to home life, generally I’m happy at the way things are working out. We’re hoping to take a weekend away next month or in November, just the two of us, no phones, no nothing. We haven’t had a weekend away in … well, a long time. And we need it - rekindling the romance, and all that. We had a rather large problem arise this week, which exhausted both of us emotionally and physically, and hopefully we can move past that.

We will also be going to London in December to visit our newly-out friend. I’m so proud of her!

In the meantime, I’m at work and should probably cease this to do something more work-related. ‘Til next time.

So! I am, like, way sick, I’ve decided. When Meg came over last night, my headache was still in full force despite being fully medicated, and my throat was wickedly sore. By the time my flatmate TJ got back from dinner at about nine, I was completely feverish and a bit woozy, so much so that the minute he walked in he said, “Are you drunk? Stoned? Are you on drugs?” I denied it, claiming illness, but I don’t think he believed me. He simply shook his head and went back to playing Party Poker, adding, “Man, I wish I felt the way you looked. Then I’d know I was fucked up.” Haha.

Per the proclaimed TMI post in Becca’s journal, I’m going to continue. Basically, you knew I was delirious when I decided, firmly, that I had mouth cancer. I spent over an hour looking up the symptoms online yesterday and this morning, and came to the conclusion that all of them fit me: heavy smoker (well, used to be), a couple of small sores on my bottom lip, a white patch on the inside of my cheek, a feeling of weakening of the gums, and so on. But you know what? I can blame the white patch in my cheek and the weird gum feeling on my grinding thing, which will be resolved this weekend, otherwise I’m popping over to Sports Authority and getting a bright red mouthguard. As for the lip thing, I think it’s just a cold sore. Now. Hmm. I’ve never gotten cold sores before. This is one thing for which I can most definitely blame Meg, I think. *winks*

Anyway, let’s hope that’s all it is! I’m going to pop to CVS on my lunch break for some Carmax; I have approximately six tubes of the stuff, I’m sure, but they’ve all decided to play hide ‘n seek with me this week.

On another note, Meg and I had a long talk yesterday afternoon as well, and we’ve cleared the hurdle. It was basically resolved by agreeing to disagree about the aforementioned issue, and refusing to allow such a thing, so long as we can, affect our relationship. I am very, very happy about that, and we ended up having a really nice evening together - well, save for me feeling like I was going to faint from time to time, but you know.

Meg and I had a fight last night. No, fight is not the right word for it, ‘cos we don’t do that. Fight, I mean. We bicker, we squabble, we even argue occasionally, but we don’t fight. In the nearly four years since we regained contact with each other, there has only been one occasion in which we had anything resembling a fight, but really, I just stopped talking to her for three weeks, and for a stupid reason. She left an insulting comment on my LiveJournal, and I didn’t realize it was funny at the time, that it was based on her particularly inane sense of humor. And anyway, we hadn’t actually met up by this stage, but were only in contact through the ‘net, so it doesn’t really count.

I digress. The grounds for this ‘fight,’ as it were, evolved from an incident involving a paper towel. Decency prohibits me from elaborating further, but let’s just say that I didn’t think what I did was that bad, though I can definitely see why other people would find it exceedingly insulting and uncouth. Anyway, this led Meg to say to me, “You take all the satisfaction out of being upset with you.” To explain: I internalize my problems and tend to beat myself up about them. I still maintain that it’s for the greater good, though. By targeting my problem areas, I am then able to draft means of approaching and, hopefully, overcoming my faults. I’ve always done this, especially now. Really, who’s going to call me out on my mistakes now that I’m living on my own? I don’t take criticism very well from anyone but myself, as you well know if you know me in real life. It’s just what I do.

All I wanted to do was roll over and say “piss off and let me sleep,” but the nature of relationships, I’ve found, is based upon discussion and compromise. I’m still learning, you see, as this is my first long-term relationship after years of embracing singledom. That was a period that required self-reflection, I can see now. I always maintained that people in relationships had ’settled’ for someone and had therefore rid themselves of any potential opportunity for something better. Yes, that was my mentality! I like to think I’ve grown up, matured, a bit, now that I’ve embraced the sometimes-frightening concept of commitment. That is not to say that I no longer miss being single; I do, sometimes, in certain situations. Not often, though.

But never mind that. Meg and I seem to have sorted it out for now. Now my only concern is the fact that I’m practically dying of exhaustion at work today. Late-night discussions don’t mesh well with me, not when I have to get up at six-thirty in the morning.

Plus, it’s too gorgeous outside to be completely focused on my duties. It’s the perfect day for a picnic and an impromptu game of softball. Unfortunately, this is not to be, and I’ll just have to deal with it for the next hour or so until lunch, when I can get my sun fix.

Well, I didn’t pass. And it’s not so much the embarassment of walking into work this morning and having people automatically blurt out, “Congratulations!” before I’ve had a chance to say anything, but rather the fact that I’m just pissed off at myself that’s the problem. It’s amazing how a little screw-up like this - because, let’s face it, nothing was really riding on this test, not like the Series 7 - can make me want to pack up and ship off back to my mom’s house in Virginia. Gah. I hate this self-pity bullshit, but I can’t help it sometimes. It frustrates me. But anyway, Big Boss Man just wandered by and asked me what happened. “I choked,” I said, “but rest assured I will get it done in the next week or so.” He looked at me gravely. “You know you only have two attempts.” I nodded. “Just two. Two.” I nodded again. And then he said, “Don’t do this to me,” kind of helplessly as he strode off. I guess he’s frustrated as well because of the extremely high fail rate of trainees in this branch of the Firm. I would be. Oh my god. Now I’m going to be freaking out about this test. The pressure again! Ah!

To top it off, I really think my car is about to die. My dad emailed me the other day and said that one of the problems - the humming when the car is in reverse - is the result of some kind of belt that he’s had to replace before … at “a couple hundred bucks a pop.” *sighs* Just what I need. At least I managed to find a decent dress this weekend for my mom’s wedding, $69 on sale. Not bad.

I just need to stop being so materialistic. Just because I don’t have ‘the next cool thing’ doesn’t mean I’m lacking in any way. It is written in The Millionaire Next Door that “most people have it all wrong about wealth in America. Wealth is not the same as income. If you make a good income each year and spend it all you are not getting wealthier. You are just living high. Wealth is what you accumulate, not what you spend.” And I want to be wealthy one day. I must begin to start living, as Dawn of Frugal for Life puts it, “below [my] means” and “seeing treasure in items with as much as you can imagine using [my] creativity.” So I don’t have that awesome iPod dock/speaker set that Chris has. I’ve got fifteen dollar computer speakers that work just as well for the size of my room, and it cost me almost three hundred dollars less. That’s not to say that I won’t buy myself that toy one day … but I have to really work for it.

Ugh. I just want to go to bed and stay there for a couple of weeks. Make it late July, and I’ll be a happy camper.

On an unrelated tangent, Chris and her brother had a party on Friday night at their house in celebration of the fact that their parents were down in Atlantic City. To be honest, initially I wasn’t up for a party, but I hadn’t seen Chris in what felt like a really long time, so I agreed to make an appearance. Meg was still kind of suffering from her stomach thing and, though she insisted I go to Chris’s party without her, got into a bit of a pissy mood when I agreed to it. Whoops. Ultimately, though, she called me over to her house and jumped into my car. It turned out to be a gorgeous evening, not too hot and not too many bugs, with a bunch of twenty-somethings shooting the breeze, playing beer pong, and basically just hanging out. I got a bit drunk somewhere in there, but it soon passed with the drinking of a can of Red Bull, and even managed to hold my own somewhat in beer pong. Amazing. It had been awhile since I’d be sociable, and this felt really, really good. And as an added bonus: no hangover! Woot!

Also … ladies (and gents who love the women in their life), if you have a moment, take a look at this video. I must admit that I usually don’t pay very much attention to breast cancer stuff, but this report about IBC, which was sent to me via the Firm’s office manager, was pretty shocking. Like many in the video, I’d never heard of it, or if I had (which is possible, given that I have the memory of a goldfish), I didn’t know any of the details. The fact that such a disease killed a 16-year-old who was, as they put it, “too embarrassed to tell her mother that her breasts looked weird,” is a scary enough thought as it is. Just take a look. It could be worth your while.