77 posts tagged “life”

It has been a really good weekend. Nothing in particular, really, so much as just appreciating and really being in the moment for lots of little things. That's what life should be, of course, but I feel it so much more right now because for so long, I really couldn't. I couldn't break away from my stress and worry about work enough to be the moments life is made of, and I was missing them.

Friday, Lee and I trimmed The Vinster's claws and gave him a bath. Not something His Weazness enjoys, but a necessary evil for him and tons of fun for us. Well, maybe not the nail clipping part. But there's nothing funnier than a freshly washed ferret rolling furiously around on your bed to dry himself off. And perhaps to punish you just a bit for plunking him in the tub by getting your sheets all damp.

Isn't he so cute all clean and fluffy?

Vinnie and Me

Me and The Vinster

After Vin's washing-up, Lee headed to bed. He's working this weekend at the PT job, and gets up at 4 a.m.! The good news for him is that he's done and home shortly after 9. I headed up to The Pub with the family. Friday marked the 3rd year anniversary of the death of a very dear friend of ours. His wife and several of our friends who were also close to him were there, and we toasted him and shared stories and remembered and did a lot of laughing and a little crying. It hurt and felt wonderful all at once.

We did the kind of shots HE used to do, which are much stronger than what we'd usually choose on our own. Mom laughed and said he was looking down on us and getting a huge kick out of watching all of us get simple for him.

This morning, I slept in until Lee got off work. Then I went out in the yard with my coffee and found my first jalopenos were ready for plucking from the garden. Just two so far, but one of them is a BIG pepper!

We went shopping later in the day, for our yard and for Father's Day gifts. We found the coolest quirky little store, a garden shop that also just sold all sorts of homey things from fireplace accessories to hot sauces and apple butter. The "greeter" at the store was a beautiful cockatiel, who shouted "HELLO!" at us from his cage the entire time we were browsing. I love places like that.

Later, we went with Lee's daughter and her boyfriend to a birthday dinner for one of her friends, and got to meet some of her crew. At some point during the meal I missed a called from my friend in Florida. She was calling to ask me if I would be one of their references as she and her husband go through their adoption process. Nothing would make me happier. They will be such wonderful parents, and she'd all but given up on that ever happening.

Life is good in so many ways. Freshly washed weasels, meals with family and friends, toasts and laughter and tears in memory of one who left too soon, bright green peppers plucked from the garden, talking birds in off-the-beaten-path shops, and a miracle for a friend who has waited so long for it she thought it was only a dream.

In such big and small ways, the world is a wonderful place.

It has been an interesting week. An interesting two years, if I really think about it. But we’ll just stick with the week.

I always said I would never be one of those people who settled. I knew far too many people who spent the bulk of their waking hours like hamsters in a wheel, doing work for which they little passion. For some, this did the trick. It allowed them to keep a roof over their family’s heads and food on the table, and maybe spend a week each year at the beach. A few even chose wisely enough to have time and energy away from their hamster wheel to pursue the things that brought them joy. Hell, a handful of my friends even earn their livings doing what they would do even if they weren’t getting paid for it.

Well, when I said I wouldn’t be one of the settlers, I lied. To myself and maybe even to people who believed in my ability to be more. But it has been myself I’ve been hurting the most. Because not only did I settle, but I didn’t choose wisely. I landed myself in a job that required far too much time and mental and emotional energy to leave enough of me left over even for dreaming, let alone for trying to pursue those dreams. I landed there, and even though I wasn’t quite happy with the view, I settled. For years.

If you’ve ever not had money, you know how easy that can be. You find something that allows you not to have your heart get caught in your throat every time a bill comes in the mail. That feels good, sometimes even good enough that you can convince yourself that you are happy.

I envy self-starters, the people who know what they want, won’t let their lives turn out any other way, and go for it. I used to think I was one. As it turns out, though, I’m one of those people who needs to be kick started.

Fate, or God, or something in between them must have recognized that. Because over the past few weeks, I’ve gotten my kick start. Just to make sure I got the message, it has been delivered right in the butt. After two years of being told and making myself believe that things would get better, I finally saw the flashing neon sign that said “Sweetheart, get real. This is gonna suck forever. Why are you clinging to it and giving it everything you’ve got instead of using what you were given to be what you want and maybe actually do some good in the process?”

The details of how that message has been delivered may not even be important. The point is, I finally got it.

So for the last few days, I have been working hard. And for the first time in eons, I’ve been doing that work for myself. I’ve polished my resume. I’ve explored all sorts of possibilities. I’ve sent out a few inquiries. With each little thing I do, I feel the mental wall that has kept me from creating words for over a year now start shifting. There are only hairline cracks in it at the moment. But the cracks are there, proof that the wall can come down if I let it.

The things that have happened were bad. The outcome, not so much.

I see glimpses of a teenage girl, a girl who had said since she was an elementary schooler with a notebook and a pencil that she was going to be a writer. I see her tall and lanky and awkward and sun-browned, poring over college catalogs and daydreaming. I see her laughing and alive, surrounded by friends who all had dreams of their own, outside somewhere on a muggy summer night where lightening bugs flickered and mosquitos bit and no one had school or work in the morning.

She’s me. And she’s in the mirror now, just a shade sometimes, but there. Her eyes shine behind those in the reflection. The lines beneath and around those eyes, thin markers of laughter and tears and far too many hours doing things that made them burn with exhaustion, they don’t hide her anymore.

A kick in the ass can do good things. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

Again, long time no write. Or read. I'm behind as behind can be.

I'm not letting this blog die, I promise. But I most likely will be sporadic like this through March, maybe into April. Our go-live is rough. My schedule is basically:

Mon-Thurs:

4 am - drag ass from bed

5 am - leave for gym

5:30 am - 7 am - work out, get ready for work, get to office by 7, hopefully while avoiding naked locker room lady and finding time to grab a Starbucks on the way.

7 am - 7 pm - Work. Work. Work. Fast and furiously. Train people like a mad dog on what is live while scrambling to bring up everything else. Try not to let head explode. Scarf food in my face when I can.

7 pm - 9 pm - Get ready for the next day, try to spend a little quality time with Lee.

9pm - crash out hard. Or fight insomnia, depending on the night.

Wash, rinse repeat.

Fridays are better with the work at home arrangement. I still usually work until at least 6, though, and start when Lee leaves at 7 am.

On the weekends I try to cram in all the living I've missed during the week, and usually still have to work some, even if it is just testing conversions or system moves from home.

I've promised myself that if things don't get better within a month after go-live, I will re-evaluate my life.

There is some fun on deck this weekend. Tonight, a happy hour for another co-worker who is leaving the insanity for what I hope will be a much better work situation for her. Tomorrow night, a concert with some friends. We're seeing the Young Dubliners. I've seen them twice before, and they're awesome. Lee passed on going because they're not nearly heavy metal enough for him : ).

Oh, and remember how Lee told me he'd never touch me again when I had my Palomalu jersey on, after the interception that sealed the Ravens/Steelers deal? Well, this was taken last Saturday:

He Loves Me Anyway

Caught him in the act, didn't I? : ) 

I'm behind on reading blogs too, so if I haven't commented lately, please forgive me. I will catch up as soon as I can, and am thinking of all of you! I do keep up a bit more on Facebook, since it is so quick and easy.

With a boatload of conversions and little go-lives over the next two months, ending with our HUGE go-live on March 24th, me and my project team colleagues are all starting to look and act like frazzled walking zombies.

People who work on other floors in our building see us and just know, it seems. "Look at them. They're project people. You can tell because that one is getting in this elevator with her fourth cup of coffee today, and it isn't even noon yet. That one has dark circles under his eyes. That one? Don't think she's brushed her hair in a week."

OK, this may be a slight exaggeration. But just slight. People do sort of shake their heads and express sympathy for us an awful lot these days.

But yesterday, when I got in the elevator, something different happened. The only other person on board was a tiny older woman who has worked at the university since my student days. She's known for being a witty and call-it-as-I-see-it kinda gal.

I was kind of leaning against the elevator wall, looking, I'm sure, overwhelmed and depleted of any mental fortitude I'd brought with me that morning. She hit the buttons for both our floors, smiled, and said "Hey, remember you're not Jack Bauer. Whatever happens with your job, the world isn't going to end."

That was yesterday morning, and it has stuck with me ever since. Because she's right. Not just about me and my project team colleagues, but about all of us. Our lives are hectic and frazzled and deadline-driven and overstuffed. And sometimes, we all feel like we just can't handle it for one more minute unless we get a bit of a break.

But hey, we're not Jack Bauer.

So if we take that break, the world won't end, right?

Breathe. Smile. Revel in the fact that the weight of the world really isn't on your shoulders, even when it feels like it is.

This Thursday, I'm thankful for words exchanged in an elevator.

Because sometimes, that's what you need to do.

1. This week has been sort of a roller coaster. First, the layoffs. Then, some other seriously crazy work stuff going on. Then the ice storm.

There I was yesterday morning, trying to figure out how to get down that sheet of ice and onto the main road safely, knowing I was risking my buttocks to be somewhere I didn't even really want to be - work. That's enough to put anyone in a bad mood. And on top of everyone out there shoveling, there was a gas and electric company dude (how he got his big truck UP that street I'll never know, because the ice-chipping was just getting underway at that point) wandering around outside with his bleep-bleeping thingie trying to detect a gas leak.

Turns out there is one outside on our street that they need to fix. He came in to check the house and make sure nothing was seeping in from it. Luckily, it wasn't. But I stood there while he checked, dripping snow and ice on the living room floor and thinking "Dude, if you tell me I have THAT to worry about too right now, I think I might turn into a sniveling ball of "I want my mommy."

It was just that kind of morning.

So on the way in to work, I have to admit I was feeling furiously sorry for myself. I was jealous of each and every person who was spending our ice day curled up on a sofa with tea or coffee or cocoa. I dreaded the upcoming day of meetings (I didn't eat lunch until 3 pm - they were that back-to-back). I was even pissed off at my hill for being a hill and therefore extra dangerous in icy weather.

And then I saw him. A man was wandering up and down the street carrying a sign. The sign said something about getting your taxes done at a place up the road. The sleet and ice pellets had turned to straight-up rain, but the raindrops were still pummeling him. As if that wasn't bad enough, he was dressed in a Statue of Liberty costume.

As I continued on to work, I thought "OK, having to get down The Hill of Ice to come to a bunch of meetings I don't want to go to anyway sucks. But at least I don't have to stand outside in an ice storm dressed like the Statue of Liberty. There are some jobs that suck waayyy worse than mine!

2. There is a new naked lady in the gym locker room. This one is actually quite traumatic to me.

Now that I'm hitting the gym in the morning instead of at night, I have to actually wash up, do my hair and put on my makeup there, because afterwards it is a mad dash for work. This means I have to stand in front of a mirror that is big enough to be shared by three or four other women doing the same. It has a long counter-top and plenty of room for each of us to have a makeup bag and a curling iron or hair dryer. It is like assembly-line face painting or something some mornings, but generally isn't so bad.

What IS bad is that there is one lady who insists on doing her hair naked. She stands in front of the mirror with all her stuff flapping and flopping, including boobs that hang almost to her belly button. And honestly, as much as I want to be  Ms Free-Spirit, I have a REALLY hard time looking in the mirror to do my own face-fixins' when just beside the image I'm seeing of myself dabbing on blush are some flopping boobies.

I don't say anything. I don't want to ruin naked lady's day. And it IS a locker room, after all. But seriously, getting extended views of Stranger Boobs before 7 o'clock in the morning is not how I ever envisioned my days beginning.

3. Lee and I have IPOD issues. We love them, but we're still figuring out the whole syncing of the IPODs and getting stuff from the ITunes store and storing it and all that. The result is that I now have like 50 AC/DC songs on mine, even though I think AC/DC are pretty much schreechy and over-rated and all their songs seem to be about their balls or scoring with skanky chicks. This is because I consistently sync the IPOD without checking off just the songs I want first, so I end up with all Lee's too. It's a learning experience.

Anyway, last night Lee had gone to bed and I was getting out of the shower when all the sudden I heard this loud, startling sound of bells chiming, followed by wailing guitars and someone yelling. I stood there, naked as the gym lady and dripping water all over the bathroom floor, heart pounding. Finally I grabbed a towel and went to investigate.

It turned out I had left a bottled water (with a cap) on the computer desk, and Sly had gone after it while I was in the bathroom. In doing so, he'd managed to bound across the keyboard and hit just the right keys to start playing some Ozzy song from the ITunes store.

So yeah. Ice storms and Ipod adventures and naked people pretty much sum my week. If I can't find the humor in that, I need therapy.

But is it Friday YET?

I absolutely adore the holidays. In the past, I've always sort of felt a bit bummed the day after Christmas. I mean, all that decorating, shopping, partying, wrapping, cooking, planning, feasting, giving ... and then, boom! Everything is over in the blink of an eye.

This year, my attitude is a little different, though. I am absolutely reveling in the low-key quiet of the day after Christmas. I am ready for a lot less "run, run, run" and a lot more "relax, relax, relax!"

On Christmas Eve, I worked until about 4:30. The boss let most of the staff go, and me, him and one other manager who was working stayed until the end and covered the counter and the phones. What an eye opening experience that was! I haven't worked the counter in a REALLY long time, and a lot of things have changed since I moved to The Project and started spending most of my workdays away from the office. Questions from callers that used to be things I could answer in my sleep are now things I had to put people on hold and ask the boss or the other gal about.

Funny, I've never been so immersed in my job before. But at the same time, being so far removed from the day to day while on this special assignment makes me feel very far away from it sometimes.

When I came home, I finished up the last minute wrapping then Lee and I went to my parent's place for a Christmas Eve dinner of ham and salads. We all sat around and had a few glasses of wine and lots of chit-chat. I'm used to our family Christmas Eves being a mad frenzy of trying to get my niece into bed so that all the last minute wrapping and assembling of gifts can be done. I'm not the only procrastinator in my family! The first year I brought Lee to my parent's house for Christmas, we were up with my sister until 2 a.m. putting together a computer desk she had gotten my niece.

This year, though, it seemed that I was the only one still wrapping on Christmas Eve. My family was all ahead of the game, so we just got to kick back and relax.

Christmas Eve really brought home to me just how much my niece is at that odd and awkward age between "little girl" and "teenager."

Her wish list was all clothes and things like a new IPOD, and she wanted to know how a bunch of elves in Santa's workshop could make things from stores like Aeropostle and Hollister. We're all pretty sure she doesn't really believe in Santa anymore, but she's afraid to admit it because somewhere along the way, she's gotten the idea that the piles of presents under the tree for her will dwindle to "grown-up sized piles" if she admits she questions The Guy In The Red Suit. She figures that as long as she continues to believe in Santa, we'll continue to do our parts in convincing her by piling up the prezzies!

She sat and chatted with the adults instead of running to the computer every five minutes to track Santa, as she has for the last few years. But yet, when it came close to her bedtime and my mom went to honor the tradition of giving her a package with new PJs for Christmas Eve, all hell broke loose for a minute. Mom brought the wrong wrapped package out, and Niece promptly burst into tears after opening it, declaring "oh no! These aren't my Christmas pajamas and we don't know where they are and I don't want to open all my presents!"

The storm subsided when Mom found the PJs, and I sat with niece and teased her into being calmer and thought to myself "damn, I'm soooo glad my hormonal adolescent years are long gone!"

Lee and I came home and spent some time with Vin and Sly, got some shut-eye, and headed back for the present frenzy and the family Christmas breakfast.

I was thrilled with my gifts, which included a wonderful new wine rack for Lee and I, a Palomalu jersey (woo-hoo!), perfume, my favorite lip glosses, PJs, earrings and lots of other cool stuff.

And the hit gift in terms of what I gave others? Believe it or not, it was elephant poop. 

My sister loves elephants, and collects anything elephant-related. So, even though I had already gotten her gifts, I was in the bookstore earlier this week buying a few books I knew Mom wanted to read, and happened to pass a stationary display. It was journals and address books and note cards all made from ... processed elephant poop.

I grabbed a journal for Sis, really as a gag gift more than anything else. And it turned out to be one of her favorite gifts of the year!

After Christmas breakfast and presents, Lee and I headed home and took a nice long nap, then got up and headed back to the Parental Abode for lasagna dinner and family game night. All in all, it was a wonderful, peaceful, relaxing day with loved ones. I couldn't ask for more than that!

Today, we started making up for the lack of workout time and the holiday munch-fest of the last week by spending some extra time in the gym, then went to the grocery store and stocked back up on healthy stuff. We're determined to get back on the wagon here. Of course, football festivities on Sunday and New Year's Eve will throw a few curveballs into the mix, but until then, we're being good!

I hope the day after Christmas is one of rest and continuing time with family and friends for all of you - no one should have to go back to work the day after such a holiday!

I feel like I haven't sat down and really blogged in forever. I've posted bits of this and that, but the closer we get to go-live of our new system at work, the more discombobulated my worklife gets and the fewer hours I have to think. Heck, the fewer hours I have to sleep, eat, breathe ... so it makes sense that my blog mojo has sucked.

Now that I do have a moment to relax, my brain doesn't even know where to begin. So here's a bit of randomosity.

1.  I am in coffee creamer heaven with the holiday flavors that have come out recently. Chocolate Mint Truffle? Vanilla Spiced Rum? Caribbean Cinnamon Creme? I have them all.

Who would have thought that something as awesome as coffee could get even better?

2. I am completely loving my rainy Saturday of nothingness. I'm washing all the laundry I didn't get to while I was washing-machineless (funny how you can get by on bare essentials when doing otherwise means longer at the laundromat!), listening to country music, and letting the hellish week that was roll off my back. The Chocolate Mint Truffle creamer is helping with that.

3. Lee is so excited about tomorrow's Raven's game that talking about it with him is like being with a kid in the car on the way to the best amusement park in the world. I'll be he won't be able to talk for a week. Heck, he's just getting his voice back from last week's game!

Lee

Isn't he cute? This is him when we were heading to last week's football fun (a good day for him, a not-so-good-one for me). He was trying to imitate "The Rock." Not bad, huh?

4. Speaking of listening to country music, I just heard that song "Drunker Than Me" for the first time. Freakin' hilarious! It describes the attitude of soooo many of my guy friends (who, strangely enough, are all bachelors).

5. And again, speaking of country music, I think if I was a country singer, this would be my album cover:

Pam

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We don't have to worry about that happening, because a rabid weasel on crack can sing better than me. But if ...

It's funny, I very rarely like pictures of myself. I tolerate them, or think they're OK or "good enough." But this one, I actually like.

6. Remember how I was talking about the whole "naked people in the locker room" thing? Well, yesterday took the cake. There was a naked chick sitting on a bench on her cell phone, tearing whoever was on the other line (her boyfriend or husband, I assume, because she referred to his balls) up and down. Apparantly he hadn't called her back fast enough for her liking, and while on the treadmill she'd gotten all worked up over what he was doing instead of calling her.

I try not to look, really. But it's hard not to stare at someone who is nekkid as the day she was born and screaming her head off at some poor schmuck whose balls are in grave danger!

7. I am also loving Facebook Scrabble. Fun, fun, fun! 

8. I made a pact with myself this weekend after killing all of last Sunday on football pub-time, that I'd stay out of the family bar this weekend. But Mom called me last night and really wants me to come out tonight. She's got some tough stuff going on and needs to vent. And as much as I chew her ear off about everything that goes wrong in my world, I could never say no.

Let's hope I have the self-restraint to avoid a stupid Sunday hangover.

9. Last night after coming home from the gym and dinner, Lee and I curled up on the couch and watched "The Wizard of Oz" together. I love that he actually WANTED to watch it, and wasn't just doing it because I wanted to. I absolutely adore that movie, no matter how many times I see it.

Earlier today, I couldn't get the Witch Is Dead song out of my head. Now, I'm stuck on "If I Only Had a Brain."

10. If I only had a brain, I would be doing something productive instead of blathering on and on. And since I'm supposedly somewhat intelligent, I should probably live up to that. Happy Saturday!   

... or not.

Spending time at the gym has made me realize that most women seem to be much more comfortable with their own butt-nakedness than I am.

I don't like showering in the gym locker room. In fact, unless I'm running errands or Lee and I are going out to play somewhere directly from the gym, I don't shower there. I just go straight home and hop in the tub. I tell myself that this is because I prefer the comfy coziness of my own bathroom, with my tropical fish decorations and my selection of shampoos and conditioners to suit my mood, to the high-school-locker-roomish feel of the gym.

But if I'm honest, part of it is that I don't like walking around with a bunch of half or fully-naked strangers with my own girlbits hanging out too.

I know I've always been extremely self-conscious. But even as I grow more "okay" with the way my body looks in and out of its clothing, I STILL feel like the gawky geek girl when it comes to showering and changing in a busy public facility. And I seem to be in the minority.

A lot of the other women who go to my gym strut around that locker room commando, without even a towel between them and the rest of the world. It just doesn't bother them. They stand in front of the full-length mirrors and check out their own butts and bellies. They take their time getting back into their clothes after a shower or a swim, their boobs a'floppin in the breeze as they chat with other women about their boyfriends, husbands, kids, jobs and what-have-you. I feel almost weird for the way I get in and out of my workout gear as quickly as possible and avoid the wayward showing of a boob or butt cheek as much as I can.

I have no real desire to strut my own stuff around a locker room, so it isn't like I feel my own self-consciousness is making me miss out on an experience or anything. But I really do envy the carefree comfort with one's own body and lack of self-consciousness that would allow a gal to hang out (literally) in a locker room chatting it up with her girlfriends as easily as she would sitting around the kitchen drinking coffee.

Guess you'll never find me sunbathing on a nude beach, huh?

... taking over my house.

I am not sure how I did this all those years in college, and then just after college. I am talking about living without a washing machine in my home.  The piles just keep growing and growing and growing. Whites. Darks. Bright colors.

Eeek!

It's funny. My entire time in college, I went home or to my grandmother's every weekend - or sometimes every other - to wash my clothes. When my ex and I moved in together, we would have dinner with my parents once during a weeknight, and his on Sundays, and lug our laundry with us. We never set foot in a laundromat even though we went years without our own washer and dryer.

And I never really gave it much thought. It was just part of life. You made sure you had enough clean clothes to get through until the next time you went to a parental abode for some face-time and laundry.

At the back end of my 30's, I am totally incapable of this carefree, it-is-what-it-is lifestyle. I want to do laundry, and I want to do it NOW. But I don't want to lug it anywhere. I am a spoiled laundry brat.

It makes me think about all that I take for granted. Instead of being happy that I HAD money to buy a new washer, I was angry that doing so blew out my savings. For many people, especially right now, it wouldn't even have been an option. I remember back to when we didn't have wheels, and how I now take for granted that I don't have to deal with the bus or waiting for cabs. There are so many who do. There are people who can't afford groceries or clothes for themselves or their children - people who work just as hard as I do - and yet I sit here and feel sorry for myself because The Laundry Monster is eating my house.

It puts things in perspective.

Still, getting the new washer installed and stopping this monster in its tracks will be the highlight of my weekend. And that, my friends, is a sign of getting old and set in my ways!

So, we did go up to the pub last night for a bit of Halloweening.

I thought about dressing up. I was just going to throw on a ton of Lee's Ravens gear and go as a Ravens fan, which would have been both easy and a fun way to let my smartass side come out a little bit, since all my buddies there are die-hard Ravens fans who know my heart lies with the Steelers. But in the end, my day of cleaning up flood messes, shopping for a new washer and working out got the best of me, and I decided to just be lame.

Lee only stayed out for a bit, since he wanted to get up early and get some morning fishing in today. I stayed on for some girl-time with Mom. We ended up being the Halloween costume contest judges at midnight, since neithor of us were dressed up ourselves. (When people asked Mom about her lack of costume, she said "I AM dressed up - I'm being a nice person tonight!'). We picked a 'most original," a "scariest" and a "sexiest" and they all got gift certificates for free drinks at the bar.

Unfortunately, we didn't have too many costumed folks around at judging time. A bunch had come in earlier but left to go see and be seen downtown, and a bunch more came BACK from going downtown after we'd already done the contest. But there were enough folks to make it fun. We had a Beetlejuice, some vampires, a Geico Lizard, several sexy witches, a disco chick, cheerleaders, and a blood-covered surgeon, to name a few. My sister was the Swiss Miss chick and her boyfriend was a pervy priest.

Today, I pretty much lounged around at home, getting the day of relaxation I DIDN'T get on Friday. We're making corned beef and cabbage, Lee is playing Madden football, and we'll probably snuggle up for a movie after dinner.

Tomorrow I get to revert back to my college lifestyle by bundling up our laundry and going to do it at my parent's house. That's what I did every weekend back in my student days, and it feels weird to do it again at 38! But our new washer won't be installed until Thursday or Friday at the earliest, and neither of us wants to have to go to work commando. I think we're going to just use having to do the laundry as an excuse to watch the game on my parent's big hi-def TV, since the washing machine fiasco means WE won't be getting one for a while yet!