Happy New Year!

...Robbie Maddison is in need of therapy. Seriously. And if I hear
that Soulja Boy song one more time, I will not be responsible for what
i do. Just wanted to get in one last post for this year. I'll be a
better blogger in 2008. Swear. ;-) now i have to get out there and
drink. Woo-hoo

love and joy come to you...

Ok, thank god that's over-ish.

First off, at Eviljob there is a kitten with a birth defect -- it has no back right leg past the knee area therebouts. Don't worry, Little One is fine, and staying at a co-worker's home until the Holiday stuff is over. It is a black cat, and since black cats are usually names 'Lucky' or somesuch, this one has been christened 'Not-So-Lucky'.

Not-So-Lucky will be just fine. We thought he had been hit by a car. :-) It took forever to catch it, but at least I did not have to do it this time. I guess Not-So-Lucky has been hiding out. Can't say as how I blame him. If I had known I was getting suckered into tending a team at Eviljob on Xmas Eve, I would have hid, too. Good going, Not-So-Lucky.

Butsoanyway. Because I was working for a goodly chunk of Christmas Eve, Meg and I are going to go look at Christmas lights on Thursday. Yay.

Meg missed some tournament 'cos Mom pitched a fit, and so we've had her here the whole time. My brother has actually been nice to me, which is weird; first, I got three huge boxes from Bath and Body Works delivered to me -- B&BW was the return address, so I did not know they were presents, and I opened them. He had to have bought fricking EVERYTHING. I am *serious*. I have every freaking product known to Man, including some I have never seen, like the Japanese Cherry Blossom Shimmer Duster. Very cool.

On a related, if trivial, note, I am in love with B&BW's Chocolate Amber and Blackberry (?) Amber stuff; it smells wonderful!

So those came on (I think) Saturday, or Friday. And I phoned him to say thanks, and he went on and on about how he hoped I did not think what he got me was less then what he got Meg (a leather briefcase-thingy). I told him that it was great, because I love that stuff. Meg already has somewhere around six leather briefcases -- everyone gets her one (and usually with the engraved plate (plus-sized) proudly declaring her to be Dr Megadocious Anastasia Regine Elizabeth Chiquita Banana Hannah Montana Benedek bat Yakov von Weltschmerz -- okay, I am exaggerating, but ours are names which are a tad unwieldy, and much to my parents' irritation, Meg and I have abbreviated somewhat (and each differently), both of us around the time that we started getting asked if we were registered with the AKC -- and Meg *hates* that; she just wants to be called 'Meg'. But this is what happens when two people who should have never been wedded in the first place try to 'compromise' on the names of their children to make each other, as well as their respective families, happy), although this is a nice briefcase. It's burgundy, which is a colour she didn't have, and it has a zip-opening thing for her carry-on handle. And no nameplate, because my brother feels somewhat the same way as we, though he cut out all Mummers' contributions to his name. For some reason, when people think of Meg, they think of leather briefcases. No Big Deal -- I would rather the B&BW bonanza, anyway!

And, for what it's worth, I would not have minded being named Pop Tart's Momentary Lapse of Reason in the slightest.

But back to my brother, John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt of Ulm Benedek ben Yakov von Weltschmerz:

Then, he phoned again for no reason when he was waiting for National Treasure to start (at the theatre) with two of his kids, as he'd let his wife go do personal shopping and gadding about whilst a sitter (hopefully heavily-armed or -sedated) took on their youngest two; I told him he must be missing me to go see a movie about me, and he did not start in with his usual acid-tongued crap. :-) He's been sending me IMs on gmail (which shows up as regular mail if I'm not logged in), and after he again apologised via IM for the B&BW and I assured him (also via IM) that it was Just Wonderful, then I got this IM:

Glad you like it. Interestingly, you were not featured in any part of the movie. I lodged a complaint with the theater manager explaining the true value, in fact treasure, that you represented to this nation. He told me to bugger off and threatened to ring the police as he had become suspicious about my activities, being alone at a theater with two small boys and all. Anyway, Merrry Christmas! Will phone you later today or tomorrow.

Ok, so why is he being nice? Is he terminal with something? Am I? Maybe he was visited by the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future? Meg and I have long thought he was the inspiration for Bill Murray's character in Scrooged, so I guess anything is possible... Gosh, I wonder what happens to me in the future? Do I end up looking like Joan Rivers?

Butsoanyway.

So I cooked Christmas Din-Din-turned-late-lunch ('cos I'm all about not timing a damn thing) at Mummers', and it all came out in spite of her near-constant criticisms; everyone loved it. I usually step away from Holiday Stuffs, or try to, but this year feels so extremely un-like a Holiday Season that I am in distress enough to do damn near anything to pick it up a little; I will be trying to make spiced apple cider later in the week, so stay tuned. I ended up going to both jobs' main holiday parties this year, and they were both ok -- not Christmassy, though. I had a date for one, and went staggish for the other, but the Holiday Feeling was low, period. At least, not high enough for my tastes. One person at Job 2-sub-1 I think has a drinking problem; they got completely roasted (like Bad Santa roasted), and this particular party was The Big One (there are other, smaller group ones that I didn't do) at J2-s-1, the one with both the academics and the military, so any way one turned, a paycheck-signing hand could be seen. Very bad choice of drinking times. Tres-way bad. I don't do it, 'cos I plan to hit them up for items that are on my Christmas list shortly, so I am on teh good behaves; I may not be leaving in January after all...which means that I will STILL HAVE THREE JOBS, butsoanyway. Plus, I do not like crying in public; I would probably like it even less if I were doing it and I were a boy.

Butsoanyway.

Romeo is doing really well -- he came and slept with me about a week ago, and he kissed me. He has done neither since before the exploding kidney, so that is cool. The Val syrup stuff with the extra crap in it seems to really be working! Though I still am not sure what Val syrup actually is; Meg somehow got the idea that it had blood in it, but she is just kooky that way sometimes. I know the base is Val (or VAL, rather), but Doc puts other stuff in it for anaemic patients, like potassium and stuff. He also compounded cyproheptadine and the two antibiotics into VAL, so Rome is on a *lot* of VAL, but...it's working. Can't fault that.

I am currently, despite having overeaten all day today, having a massive craving for something steak-y with something salad-y. I'm not going to so anything about it, but wow; one would think I would be over food; we had to compromise and have turkey this year, and the damned thing was *huge*.

Oh! Cutest thing! I brought home turkey for my cats, and they went completely crazy-happy. Especially the left-over giblet part; Romeo particularly liked that.

I have to go to sleep (we are *still* tying up a project at J2-s-1), because I have to be in early. Bwaah. And we all know that's unlikely to occur.

Merry Christmas!

.

Oh, shit -- it's Upgrayedd!

Ok, so I suck...it has been a busy week. I'm just updating a draft, so
here goes...

On Friday:

I am waiting for Meg and some other friends to join me at Morty's Meat
Pit. It's actually Tony Roma's, but I like to annoy by calling it
Morty's.

holy shit...she's early. More later.

ok; butsoanyway.

I had the spinach chicken thingy, and I guess I will be having that
tomorrow, 'cos i had a breast and a half left. And let me tell you
here, 'cos everyone there seemed to think this was some elaborate
dish: it would be painfully simple to make this yourself, at home,
for less. Steam some nice veggies (just a little less than Morty's,
'cos it's nicer when they are still kind of raw and crunchy-ish), and
put those in a bowl with Rice-A-Roni. Take two chicken breasts, and
grill them just enough to taste grill-y. Then plop some frozen creamed
spinach on top, and bake them. Then put the chicken on top of the
Rice-A-Roni. And I really *do* think they used Rice-A-Roni, despite
the withering, 'noooooo, pezzint!' look our server gave me. Srsly.
R-A-R. Promise.

Our esteemed guests (at Job 2-sub-1, the ones for whom we were running
a quick-and-dirty benchmarking study) are gone...thank god. We did the
Entertaining Them dinner last night (boring). It was fabulous
(boring).

Meg and I have matching sister laptops (mainly 'cos I bought hers and
mine at the same time a few years ago when I turned down the Eviljob
laptop 'cos I was doing a lot of travelling back then, but wanted to
not have to worry about my personal stuff turning up on corporate
property) but Meg's just blew up. So tomorrow, after I get off work,
we are going shopping for her new one. Which makes *me* want a new
one, 'cos mine is now horribly out-dated, though it was cool when I
bought it. I just do not have the budget to swing another laptop like
I want right now. Sigh.

ok...now on Saturday, Meg and I went shopping after work. She bought
an HP something-something and, well, so did I. So we have matching
sister laptops again. The one I have now is way-lighter, so that is
awesome. We have named our laptops Upgrayedd. Two Ds at the end for a
double dose of dis pimpin'.

I really need to stop watching Idiocracy. :-)

After we bought Upgrayedd, we swung by my home and dosed Romeo, fed
everyone, and I have been running around with Meg ever since. Right
now, we're heading back into town, 'cos I have to get an early start
tomorrow on finishing up a ginormous PITA project that was supposed to
have been done by now. Meg was intending to go to a WSOP event in New
Jersey, but changed her mind; now next up for her is a WPO/WSOP thingy
in (I think) Tunica. I guess that means she is spending her New Year's
at a circuit event. :-)

I wish I could go, but meh; I can't. I am afraid that I am stuck
working straight through the new year, practically. But I guess it
really doesn't matter; I don't need to be spending any money, and I
can't really do anything else constructive right now. Other than
having fun, or something. :-)

Ok...I am almost home and starting to get a ferocious headache. Time
for sleep after I dose Rome again, I think.

If I weren't so tired...

I would write something about how Romeo is hanging in there, how we
have loaned back some of our equipment at Job 2-sub-1 to the original
vendor to use in a bencharking process with some newer equipment 'cos
we are *the* facility to be doing this, so I am supposed to stand
around and look helpful all day, and I would write about how I really
wish Meg would stay for xmas and New Year's Eve, but she is about to
run off to a tournament, and I would write about how I have managed to
get all manner of shit in, not simply at the eleventh hour, but at the
eleventh hour-and-fifty-nine-minutes. Bwaah. And I would write about
spending four hours with Baby Bat shopping for her mom. And I would
write about how terribly tired I am, or perhaps I wouldn't. I do not
want to sound whiny. :-)

More Kitty Brawndo, Pleez!

Well, I have given up on sleeping, and Romeo appears to be a *lot*
better, and this is after just one dosing. Hmmm.

It has to be the electrolytes.

It's got electrolytes -- what Ancodias crave!

I just found this link: Feline CRF Information<http://felinecrf.com/index.htm>

I do not believe that I have seen this site before, though how I could have
missed it is beyond me.

Romeo is not doing all that well; he just finished a round of Flagyl and
loperamide, and we may be about to start on another...I think. I guess I
will decide tomorrow. He is a little anaemic -- I can tell by his gums --
and I put a warm towel over his bed for tonight. I guess we will see.

As far as class crap, I am largely done. Sigh.

I got a flu shot on Friday, and made the mistake of mentioning it at
Eviljob...argh. Christ almostmaybemighty, everything cannot be a
conspiracy. Seriously. It just cannot; it is logically *impossible*. I
was all explained-at that flu shots are going to make me autistic, turn my
children gay, give me shingles, and, plus, I will spend the next four months
sick, 'cos flu shots...

are you ready for this?

...flu shots MAKE YOU SICK. Yes. *MAKE* you sick. For months. And it is
INCURABLE during this period of time; there is nothing one can do other than
just wait it out. And, I suppose, hope one doesn't die. And all this --
the gay kids, the sneezing, the autism, the bodies piling up hither and
thither -- is allowed to go on because...

Are you *really* ready for this one?

...because the drug company lobbyists are paying off lawmakers to not only
look the other way, but to *encourage* people to get vaccines.

Oh, just shoot me. Are we all really that bored that we are making up
shit now? Is the whole world really *that* boring? There are no cats
to catch (more on that in a sec), no more homeless shelters to build,
and no more
reality TV to watch? Maybe the whole 'green M&Ms make you horny' was
just TOO, TOO unbelievable and out-there? Fuckaduck.

I used to have a bumper sticker on my car; it was on my first car, and I
generally hate bumper stickers, but I saw this one, and it was Love. It
said:

EVERYTHING IS CONTROLLED BY A SMALL, EVIL GROUP
TO WHICH, UNFORTUNATELY, NO ONE WE KNOW BELONGS.

Well, it made *me* smile.

I do not care if someone does not want to be vaccinated, as long as they do
not lecture me about it; my personal opinion is that things like
vaccinations have monkeyed too much with that whole Survival of The Fittest
thing, and these cockamamie beliefs are just Mother Nature's way of trying
to put things back the way they were before that smarmy know-it-all Jenner
came along. Meddling bastard; it was far better to have our lungs all full
of pneumonia and our children dead or retarded. That was WAY better than
the current situation, where not even a solid causal link can be
demonstrated, but damn it all...we know it is there. Seriously. Plus, if
it weren't this particular set of cockamamie beliefs, it would be some other
set. Mother Nature just does not like to be fucked with; try sometimes and
see. I firmly believe that my redneck neighbours -- the ones who let their
children play in traffic -- were supposed to be fertilising a lovely crop of
pine trees, or something, maybe growing a daisy or two. Rilly. That's how
Mother Nature works. The whole playing in traffic thing is just good old
Mother Nature trying to make it right.

Ok...I'll quit. I just get annoyed easily, and there are things I
would rather not know about my co-workers' belief systems. Sigh. Do
not even get me started on our discussion of bottled-versus-tap water
and the Evil of Flouridation.

'cos, you know, it makes boils on your ass and turns your kids gay. Or
something.

I started this post yesterday; since then, I finished writing one
journical article, and handed in two-thirds of all my crap for my
last-ish class (yay). I walked Kate through one of her finals (even
though she is older, Kate is a second-year), and got Romeo over to the
vet. Rome is now on VAL Syrup with some extra stuff in it (like
potassium and stuff), as he has become very anaemic, and an absolute
terror to pill. So now all of his meds are compounded (which sounds so
much more professional than my preference -- squooshed-up) into VAL.
He now takes Cyproheptadine (as-needed), Cipro (12 hrs), Flagyl (12
hrs), and Loperamide in a gel cap (12 hrs or as-needed). Oh -- and the
plain VAL Syrup with the extra electrolytes added (it's got
electrolytes...what cats crave! Sorry...had to toss in a little
Idiocracy).

LOL...my Siameasle is on Brawndo. HA!

Meg is over celebrating Chanukah with me (I promised her latkes, but
got held over at the vet, so it was our traditional kosher pizza rolls
instead; we're watching Elf, and Meg says the scene where Buddy phones
his dad from the kitchen is what *I* do...augh! Nooooo! Liar!), and I
think she thinks I am screwing around on email, or something.
Butsoanyway; she asked me why Cipro *and* Flagyl, and I cannot do
multiple browser windows on my PDA, but in case anyone is wondering,
my guess is one addresses gram-positive bacteria, and the other
gram-negative, though I am (1) only guessing, and (2) only parroting
things I have heard family say with close-to-zero comprehension. But
it does sound good, doesn't it? I mean, Meg bought it. :-D

butsoanyway.

Yesterday, I was fairly sure that I was going to be measle-less
tonight (well, other than Weebie), so I am happier. Doc said a
transfusion is out of the question, because it is too traumatic for
the cat if there are other alternatives, plus he did not get Romeo's
blood type last draw, does not trust Dr Vet's records, doesn't want to
draw more right now, and feels that an incompatible blood type might
cause unnecessary complications in an already bad situation.

To which *I* said, 'waitaminnit...cats have blood types???? Since when?'

I forgot to check that before just now...I will later. But Doc is
pretty convinced that they do, so ok. Every other vet I have ever been
to has had one, maybe two, 'bleeder' cats (lucky felines who live the
Life of Riley in exchange for sticking out a paw to help fallen
comrades when needed), and these donor cats handled anyone who came
by. During his nephrectomy, I am pretty sure Romeo got blood from Dr
Vet's bleeder cat, and he was ok then, so...?

Dunno.

So transfusing is out, and Doc said we can use Procrit on him, but
cats can (should?) only have that once or twice in their life, so he
would rather hold off on that until Romeo is in (or closer to) an
actual crisis, at which time I guess I would be smart to put him down.
Sigh.

Ok...back to Meg and our grading; I have to remind myself that every
day I am getting closer and closer to Uninterrupted Naptime.
Seriously. It helps me make it through all this crap. I am *soooo*
sleepy. Maybe I need Brawndo.

Cowboy Chachi Loves You Best!

I think I have ruptured my spleen laughing over at 15 Minute Lunch.

My political leanings

Sigh...  I have to much work to watch the debates, not that I really wanted to.  Noise.  Yapping.  Horse shit.  Meh.

I am actually working on two separate papers right now.  Now that's multitasking.

Go girl, go!

birds, For the. 1 - 781 sic passim

Of all the things Mummers has ever done to me, I will never, *ever* forgive her this one.

Oh my heavens, no.

As of this morning, I have been recruited -- in the midst of my busy season -- to be, basically (making a long description and explanation short), her typist; my Mommy fired the person who was helping her because she did not like something they did and is trying to prove something to Whomever, and I've been temporarily conscripted. And, of course, I am being paid Not One Red Cent for this.

Screw bastards; everybody's a total fucker. Srsly.

Bonus points for title's reference. Triple bonus points for finding all the things I am doing to Mummers' shit. I'm expecting most will survive once it's done. I mean, freaking *prove* that Fleegle, Bingo, Drooper, and Snork (1970) did not say half the things I say they did in a defunct journal.

In a foreign language.

At the moment, I am leaning towards Esperanto.

I'm betting no one will look that closely. Heh. Plus, I hear that they were quite prolific authors, and held opinion -- both expert and peer-reviewed -- on many varied topics. As did Momary, Douglas; Jo, Emmy; Hepo, Henrietta; Fraug, Frederic; and Aul, Charles (1977) in their monumental work, Review of the Zoological Neo-Garden. Far, far more interesting than the drivel Mummers is yammering on about.

Damn, I crack me the hell up.

Okay, okay...I am not *that* bad. But seriously, I AM stressing now. I do not need this. I get this, however, 'cos I am the most 'available' of her children, and she needs 'just a little help'. And yeah, I know -- I am the only one who laughs at my jokes. :-)

Sigh. I may not get to sleep again until like, March. She thinks things will change by Friday and she will get her way, but I do not believe her. Let us hope.

Double bonus points for...well, you know.

I want a nickel a word, or something. Fuckers.

bwaah.

.

I am who, now?

Sigh... Could someone more in-the-loop than myself please let me know
if being told that I am exactly like Garcia on Criminal Minds is a
compliment, criticism, or neutral observation?

jesus...at least assure me that Garcia is a female, and ideally one
*under* like, fifty. Fack.

In Xmas news, I am wholly convinced that in her version of Rockin'
Around the Christmas Tree, Amy Grant says, 'have some fuckin pie'. I
think she slipped it in there -- I know I would.

This revelation comes after having listened to the song at least
twenty times today on the Limited Playlist Holiday Station today. At
least this year it's not Christmas Shoes, thank Ceiling Cat. I hate
that song. I have been threatening to write my own holiday song since
I heard it, 'cos *my* song would be better; unhindered by religious
beliefs as I am, I have NO qualms whatsoever about sucking as much
marrow as possible out of the old Pity Bone.

ok...back to work. Yay.

.

LOLCat runned out of LOL. :-(

...did everyone but me know that Frank the first kitteh over at ICHC died?


moar funny pictures


Iz unfairness, and i DO NOT WANT you be dead, frank!11!!! Is teh suk srsly. all teh cheezburger u can eat now. luv u kthxbai.

.

I was believing you until that last bit there...

Too funny -- I am optimistic! Woof, baby! I think the Online Quiz God just picked this one cos I used to play Magenta; it is an underlying theme of my life.

you are deeppink #FF1493

Your dominant hues are red and magenta. You love doing your own thing and going on your own adventures, but there are close friends you know you just can't leave behind. You can influence others on days when you're patient, but most times you just want to go out, have fun, and do your own thing. Your saturation level is high - you get into life and have a strong personality. Everyone you meet will either love you or hate you - either way, your goal is to get them to change the world with you. You are very hard working and don't have much patience for people without your initiative. Your outlook on life is very bright. You are sunny and optimistic about life and others find it very encouraging, but remember to tone it down if you sense irritation.

the spacefem.com html color quiz

Everything is good; I will have to write about my Friday and being called in after subbing at Eviljob 'cos we had *three* no-lifer nutbags phone Kate to be used as participants (qualified ones are hard to come by, and I have been beating the bushes all I intend, so I told Kate we have to take what comes) in this silly thing we are doing at Job 2-sub-one when I am not so damnably tired; since Thursday morning, I have slept about six hours, not including two thirty-ish-minute naps. Bwaah. I also walked the whole area around Eviljob looking for two of our felines that did not turn up for their evening snack three days in a row. These two have never disappeared before, but others have and turn back up, so we will hope. Romeo developed the runs, and now he is on kitty Immodium and Flagyl. At least I think it is Flagyl; I am too sleepy to look it up -- it's Metsumpinsumpin. I think.

I hope everyone had a fabulous Thanksgiving. Yay. Turkey. Moo.

.

Hoist the Jolly Roger!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Our Thanksgiving was good; we did a communal Thanksgiving again this
year with Amelia, and I am actually still at her house. Meg and I are
helping her with all her tech issues (like charging her bluetooth
headset so that it will work), and I brought over a bunch of dvds --
at the moment, we are watching Emmet Otter's Jug Band Christmas,
having just finished Single Santa Seeks Mrs. Claus (Amelia and I are
both raging xmas freaks, only Amelia has an easier time with it than I
do because she is religious, where I am not. On her, it comes off all
pious and holy; on me, Raging Xmas Freak just looks weird), and I am
sure Meg is close to screaming. :-)

Tonight we are getting no sleep, as well; all of us have tomorrow off,
and our malls are opening at midnight.
:-D

yay, shopping!

And I have Wilderness Fever, bigtime; Amelia's home is done up with
all sorts of home-made tsotchkeys from River Falls area's antiques and
whatnot stores, and I have spent the whole evening convincing myself
that I need a quilt or ten more at my home, as well as amish pot
holders, knitted placemats, and a creche hand-carved by Moonie
pre-schoolers entirely of bubblegum. Or whatever.

Sigh...I need to just take tomorrow to relax, but I am about to go be
a Mall Pirate, and then I have to drive out to see my father...and
then get back in time to fill in as a kind of relief manager on
Saturday at Eviljob (this basically is where a manager gets someone to
show up for them when they do not want to show up). Bwaah.

sad, pathetic Mall Pirate that I am, I want to just shop my fuzzy butt
off and do nothing but redecorate all weekend. What a dork I am! Sigh.

:-D wish me luck...I have to go pillage in a bit. One of the things I
am hoping to score for myself this Black Friday is the entire
collection of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, which I have come to
adore since I happened upon it by accident about a month ago; it is so
damned funny that I can even overlook the fact that one of the guys on
it reminds me so much of the Former Future Mr Ancodia looks- and
expression-wise that I actually thought for a sec about googling after
seeing the first episode to see if there was any relationship before I
decided that was a Truly Batshit thing to do.

gah...just left Amelia's, and we are vulturing the nearest mall,
looking for a parking space! I had better go before Meg or anyone else
asks me again what I am doing. Sigh...I love you, fellow Mall Pirates;
I really, truly lurve yous fiercely!!

...so I have this weekend off, right?

...only I don't. I spend Saturday shopping at Ikea with Meg. For half
the day. She got some cool things, is re-doing some of her rooms,
but...like I care. Then today I was going to use wisely, catching up
on the twelve million things I have been putting off, like laundry,
and Mom phones because she needs help with some stuff she is writing,
as if I know anything about it. And there goes my Sunday. Poop.

If elected President, I will institute a four-day weekend, ban
calories, and tell the Excedrin company that if they don't make
serious inroads towards addressing Mummers-induced migraines, I will
fricking excommunicate them, or whatever it is Presidents do.

Surely we cannot be related...

Explain to me why Fluffernut McWhinymuffin is preoccupied with my life
and my relationship to Meg (and my brother) to the point that she is
wandering around asking cohorts to confirm her pet theory that Meg and
I are not actually related, or are half-sisters, that Meg & Dork are
obviously full-sibs, but I 'don't fit', so I am a half, step, adopted,
or something. Clearly. And she is telling it as if I told her, asking
to 'confirm' it.

WTF? Yes we are, first off, not that it is any of her business. I
suppose her presumption here is that Meg is really brilliant,
accomplished, respected, etc. (Meg does a lot more than just play
poker, I just do not really go into that here), and I am clearly so
different, but...what business is it of hers? The pettiness of people
floors me sometimes, and I never see it coming. Bwaah! Could everyone
just stop being batshit? Please? This is why I hate people. Go ahead
and do your worst, Fluffer; you are an amateur. I've survived worse
rumours. How the fuck old are we all again????

I have not been kidnapped by Mehitabel & Co.

No...I have had (yet another) busy week. And this extra-sucks 'cos I want
to quit and play for a bit. Pfft. Right now I am in my Last Required Class
(LRC), and it is a halfway out-of-department one. Our prof is so freaking
adorable I could just hug him; he gets *so* enthusiastic about *everything*,
and that's a damned accomplishment in what is basically a robotics/progging
theory class.

In Other News, Trillian on my laptop appears to have bufed the pooch, as one
of my brother's friends used to say (not that I ever could figure out what
that *meant*); I cannot figure out what is wrong with Trillian, but Steve
and I appear to be the only
ones<http://www.ask-steve.com/archives/latest_trillian_update_causes_crashes.html>.
Hmmm...

...bastards! i go and type a post, then my pda discharges and i lose
it all. Bwaah! On my cell drafts save in gmail, but not on the pda,
even if i am using the non-WAP browser? wtf? Bastards. Everybody's a
bastard. ;-)

sigh. Ok -- bed.

The Coming Tuxedo Cat Uprising

The Lovely-and-Talented Ms. Grammarian always makes me laugh; she has seen signs of the Tuxedo Cat Uprising. This TCU is largely *my* fault -- of all the cats I have been able to trap and speuter at Eviljob, the tuxes (including Mehitabel) rarely get trapped. And because they rarely get trapped, they rarely get speutered. So after two years, I actually *have* seen a decrease in cats at Eviljob...except tuxes.

This is a tuxedo cat:


Now imagine hordes of them.

::shiver::

I have a blue tuxedo (Rhett Butler Kittypants) and two black cats (Squooshable Bobby Vinton Baconface Nguyen Kittypants and Cookie Noel Kittypants) that came from the Eviljob matriarch, Mehitabel Kittypants. Mehitabel hates me and looks a lot like the cat up there, except for the part about the picture up there not hissing at me when I look at it.

I thought that I would have more time to post, but I have to get to work at Eviljob; I had today off from Job 2 (both of them), and now have to catch up some time at Eviljob. Yay.

ok...more later. I will leave you with what is probably my all-time favourite lolcat pic so far; it reminds me of Squoosh and Cookie, and now of the Tuxedo Cat Uprising:

sigh.

I ended up today stuck at work until it was almost time for the Feral Cat Fiesta to end, so I decided to take a miss.  I am disappointed, but I guess there was no way around it.  Mehitabel has had *another* litter; this time they are all tuxedo cats it seems, and she has nested them at the flagpole, one of her favourite places.  :-)  It's safe there, and the lights are on illuminating the flagpole whenever it is dark, so the ground stays fairly warm.  She is such a good mom.  We should all have such good moms.  Harry and I are managing to keep them all fed. 

I drove out to see my father, and am now so tired that I think I am going to have to nap and try more of this blogging and catching up on email later. 

g'night.

.

Miracles Abound in the Holiday Season

Let's see... Client visit went well. Major breakthrough at Job
2-sub-1; I accomplished more than I thought I would this entire
quarter when things I have been setting up for almost two months
gently fell into place this week. It was fabulous. Then today I was
given a tangible *end*. That's right -- shortly, no more three jobs.
Whee! Because of J2s1's client visit, I was able to push off a tedious
chunk of work at J2s2...and that is going well. No one has fucked
anything up yet. Eviljob is the same as ever, but that is GOOD. And
Mehitabel had another litter, but I have been promised a speuterfest
shortly.

Right now I am tired, and I have a headache...but I feel wonderful.
Overall, I mean. Wholly undeserving of all this fabulousness. Yay!

Ok...now I have to go get ready for a small presentation tomorrow, but
that is *nothing*. Again, yay.

Never trust me to remember anything. :-o

As if I could be expected to remember that we have clients this week
at Job 2-sub-1. Pffft. Get real; I even forgot about my father's
birthday.

ohhh...I sent a card (via Bluemountain, so he can get it on the
computer we got for him; per my stepmother via Meg, he is becoming
quite the media whore. It's cute), and the new 'puter was bas ically
an early birthday present. But the point is that I forgot.

So yesterday I did a lot of running around. It mostly went well, and I
guess that is good. Our resident cannibal stayed home, so we had no
fear of our clients being freaked out. :-)

argh...time to run.

Oh, yeah...

...and I did get Ultrasound II, Return of The Killer Ultrasound results back; both of my ovaries – Millicent and Melisande – have cysts on them; Millicent, who apparently never quite got the hang of this ovulation thing, still has the same ol’ cyst which is probably a chocolate cyst, and it is not much larger. This means that Millicent has a hard time letting go. Literally. Now Melisande (my favourite; if one can have favoured ovaries, Melisande is it. All my non-idiot children will come from Melisande – if they come at all – paternal contributions aside, that is) has a cyst of her own, about the size of a walnut. Significantly smaller than the cyst on Millicent (Millicent’s previous cyst grew to be almost the size of a man’s fist, and squooshed the crap out of Millicent), my gyn is fairly confident that Melisande’s will diminish with staying on the Pill, and we are hoping Millicent’s will start to go down.

C’mon, Millicent. Get with the fucking program.

Butsoanyway.

I did ask about changing my pill to something else in case doing that might make me less psychotically horny, but my gyn said that it should go away (I have had this discussion before; it doesn’t), and would likely happen with any pill, so it makes no sense to switch (per her) and maybe ovulate even once and make Melisande or Millicent’s cysts get bigger. Ok, fine.

[Ed. Note: I have never gotten around to putting together post pages thingy-stuffs that will re-direct you to another page of you want to hear about stuff, and let you just read the other stuffs and skip the link if you don’t, so…sorry. I am going to deviate for a sec, but then we are back to more girlstuffs. You have been warned.]

Oh, I am *finally* getting to see Night at the Museum, and so far it is awfully cute; I think that, although Mickey Rooney’s character is cute, they would have done better with Burgess Meredith. Were he to be still alive, that is; as-is, maybe not so much.

Butsoanyway. Back to girlstuffs:

I do like my gyn, by the way. She is new to the area, and specialises in pelvic pain; she just came from a research university, and I pulled some of her papers. I was not expecting to, but I really like her; in between the physical therapist she has me seeing, the exercise classes, and the dope (eventually I’ll be off da dope, but not just yet; I am still taking ibuprofen and Tramadol…only now I have my own prescription for the Tramadol, ‘cos I was using the uberbottle Mummers gave me, and ran out of that. I am also supposed to be taking klonopin at night at the very least so that I can ‘sleep appropriately’, and during the day ideally per my gyn, but…I don’t. I lie and say that I do, but…I don’t. I do not mind alleviation of pain, but I do not like being tranqued. What in the fuck am I going to do in case of zombie attack if I am all tranqued? Huh? Answer me that, willya? Dr Gyn was wholly non-accepting of my Tranqued = Red Shirt in the Landing Party argument, so I lie. Though I do occasionally take a quarter or a half of one at night because I am supposed to), I am doing one thousand times better than I was this time last year, as in I can move freely and do not have to sneak off to burst into tears for No Real Reason. I have not gone into a lot of this with many people ‘cos there is not a real reason to, plus most would not understand. Plus even more do not give a fuck.

But this is my blog, and we don’t care about them, now do we?

I didn’t think so.

Butsoanyway, now we get to the interesting part. My physical therapist (well, I do not know who it actually started with, but let’s blame her ; my new gyn and the whole group are in the process of establishing a women’s clinic for this sort of thing, so they are all in cahoots as far as I am concerned) got the bright idea that I needed to add counselling to my regimen, and so now I have pressure on all four corners, so…I am. Sigh. It is essentially because they are of a mind that there is this interwoven stuff between mind and body, blah, blah, blah. It sounds newage-y (that’s newage, as in ‘rhymes with sewage’), but it is not really like that. I get what they are saying – that with most women, there are psychological habits and whatnot that need to be eliminated. So ok, fine.

Like I have time for this; it has been all I can do to free up early mornings for pilates, core class and therapy. Feh.

Thing is, I am having trouble talking to anyone anymore. Sure, I have a ton of stuff that I could ramble on about, but…why? It really does not matter; maybe things will get better, maybe they won’t; either way, I guess I have to go chat to make everyone happy. Okay, so I finally wrote something here about it.

Feh.

.

I hear weasels!

Halloween was great; I went over to a friend's and watched horror movies. Now I have this weekend 'off', but the stuff that I wanted to do is *next* weekend, so I have to find a way to talk Harry into going to this cat festival our rescue group is contributing to (after we get this over with, next is Speuterfest 2007…though I have been given no firm date yet). Plus, Meg's out of town at some tournament in (I think) Biloxi that she is doing well in (last I was messaged).

Right now, I am watching Intimate Power on (naturellement) Cinemax. What god-awful crap. I hate watching things like this alone, 'cos I have so damn much fun making fun of movies like this. It is so awful, it's *fabulous*! Everyone is wearing these fake moustaches à la early porn movies, and it is so drama-ridden I am having a hard time clearing my eyes of tears from my hysterical laughter. I need a MST3K-like show of my own. Seriously.

Especially funny was the part where F Murray Abraham (who is the Sultan) calls for Aimee (who is the requisite demure French virgin girl) to go shtup him, and after making muchly with the 'yes/no/maybe/sometimes' (think Harlequin Romances at their WORST) where Aimee vacillates between killing herself to escape such an ignominious fate (all these heroines *always* have potentially ignominious fates – I think the term is probably one of the most over-used stock phrases in the genre) and going ahead and doing the deed using some lame justification like not wanting Tulip – the head harem guy (who is a story in himself; I cannot decide who is copying whom between Tulip and Arsenio Hall's Semi in Coming to America) – to get all killt-n-stuff. And all this yes/no/maybe/sometimes vacillation takes place in the span of about five minutes. You know – as those internal debates always do with us girls. Ummm…yeah. And then, within the span of one lame-assed speech by F Murray Sultan, Aimee changes her mind and shtups him anyway. Cos F Sultan Murrayham is just enchanting like that. Yeah. Because it is important to F Sultan Murrayham that Aimee wants him for *him*, not 'cos if she doesn't do It he is going to have her all killt-n-stuff. Which, of course, she does do. It, I mean. What girl wouldn't, you know?

This was so very clearly written by a man. Snort.

And during all this, *I* am thinking that a more accurate portrayal would have F Sultan yapping on about the natural inferiority of womenfolk or somesuch whilst Aimee gets unceremoniously dumped out of a rolled-up carpet and goes nattering on about how she hears weasels and sees racoons in birthday hats and entertains herself by making vapour-trail hands, then the sex lasts two minutes and she is tossed back into the harem on her tuchas to come down off the drugs.

Now we see why I am not asked to write soft-core porn for Cinemax. Sigh.

Butsoanyway.

I was just messaged by Meg, who said that if she takes Moneymaker out of this tournament, she gets a trip to the Playboy Mansion. Ok, that is too funny. Sexist much, Poker People? He is at her table right now (or was and will be after the break, I don't know), and told someone else (the rest of the table is male) that Meg is the only one he could try to run a bluff on 'cos she was the only one who would not call just to get the trip. Ha.

Anyway, I need to finish up some drafts from the past few weeks since I have today free; the way the past month has gone, I have done little but start one post after another and then abandon it. Grr. I am still doing three jobs, and that may not change until December. I can try to move to a consultancy position on one, but not the one that I *want* to do that on. I have not decided what I want to do. Again, grr.

-----

Stuff I'm late on:

…and then depression set in

Quit Being Batshit!

…and I will clean up more later. Swear.

Gentle Commenter and everyone else who missed me,

I live. I am all pericombobulated and compunctuously frasmotic. Please forgive me for being off wallowing in my own freaking misery for like, a week.

Okay, so I was not actually doing that, I was trying to finish one project off and not get roped into a third, which I failed -- pathetically -- to do. Yes, that is correct. Ancodia has three jobs. Three. And I moved back into The Big Office just to shut everyone the fuck up, not that I get to *stay* there, or anything. And Romeo is doing not-so-well, and the attorneys for the class action lawsuit have asked me for a to-date tally of all that I have spent on His Measleness, and scurrying around between three vets and an emergency vet has eaten up my time and patience. Plus I have been staggeringly In Heat, and trying to not smoke.

Sigh. Butsoanyway. The answer to your comment is below; I would email it instead, however I have no email address for you. You are skewing the curve by choosing to comment over email. ;-) Stop immediately. And for the one funny email that introduced me to LOLPresident, thanks. :-) And omfg, huge thanks to Ms Grammarian, who helped me keep my sanity over the past week by introducing me to The LOLCat Bible. I am a convert who now believes -- deeply and abidingly -- in Ceiling Cat.

Ok, now back to the question; I swipe and pervert an astronomical number of my post titles from song lyrics. Some fitting to the post, some finishing a comment or post point, and some just for shits and giggles. The one I think you saw ( Will You Answer All These Questions, on a Postcard if You Please) was quoting...

::drum roll::

Chas (Chazz, Chaz, et cetera) Jankel. Questionnaire. It was off his album...

Oh, lord...let me think now. Shan't cheat. No. Shan't.

Chazzilicious? Chazmotic? Chazzy Chaz and The Chazmatics?

Nope. As I recall, it was more clever than that...

Gah. Okay. Cheating now...

::insert sounds of Googling::

Ach! It appears to be off the album Questionnaire, it seems. I believe I thought it was off Chasanova. Or perhaps Chazablanca. And lookit; he has a chazzography, not a discography. His cleverity is underwhelming, 'specially with the s/z/zz shite; you may have the best luck just going with 'Jankel' and 'Questionnaire' in searching, 'cos here we have a domain name with one z, yet our 'chazzography' has *two*. Or perhaps that is what happens when one adds the suffix -ography to a word with a terminal z, and I just missed that day of English class. Or whatever.

Nah. Clearly he's a man that would name his wee The Jankel Rotary Engine, or somesuch.

I mean *clearly*.

Great artist, though. Cool video. I do not think people have forgotten about him as much as lost track of him what with all the s/z/zz schtuff. At one point in time, I had a digi-copy of Questionnaire somewheres; if I find it, I will be more than happy to share, and really need to put up a swipe-able blogbox thingy eventually here anyway. It may be swipeable off WinMx or Bt. Or whatnot. ...though right now I think I see only Glad to Know You on WinMx. Not that I have WinMx or am looking, or would re-download it again if I were to find it, or anything; that would be wrong and bad, and I don't do things like that. But it is prolly sitting around somewhere, all free and stuff.

Oh, lookit. I went to googlevids and found, well, the video. Of course I am going to sploop it here:



I would just swipe the fricking vid; make life easy.

Or you could just email His Chazziness and ask him if he has a copy. :-D

Hope that helps. :-)


.

Must...throttle...coworkers...

I am so very angry! Someone i have trusted tried to backstab me, over
something that they aren't capable of seeing through themselves -- a
project of sorts. Therefore, what they tried to pull today makes such
little sense that i have had to write them off as the rampaging
fucktard they so very clearly are. I cannot put into words how totally
over this type of shit i am at this point. Grr.

Some random facts:

I don't like being ultrasounded. My rescue group pushed back the next
speuterfest to Nov or Dec. The head of security at Eviljob is very
charming and cute. After my ultrasound, i stopped by home to bathe
all the ultrasound goo off, and fell asleep and was therefore late to
Eviljob, but i had a dream so real that i actually googled the name of
the band we were promoting in my dream. In case you are concerned,
there actually is no band named Jamahoney (or Jam Mahoney, for that
matter), and they have no smash single off their latest album, and
that non-smash single is quite definitely not titled 'Beef'. And no, i
don't have the first clue where that came from. in my dream, i
thought their name brought to mind skunk anansie too much, and that
they sounded too much like some old group (and before i woke up, i had
just remembered who, but i forgot), but then again, i was sleeping
with one of the on-air talent-type, some girl whose shtick was to wear
this butterfly mask thingy that i thought was way over-done, but all
the kids loved her, so what do i know? I certainly didn't have a hit
single called 'Beef', eh? So i raced into Eviljob, and found that i
had been flooded with crap over a recent change...grr. And if one more
person assumes i think Ellen DeGeneres' hairdresser's gerbil's
cousin's best friend's aunt's old army buddy from 'Nam should get that
fucking dog back just 'cos i rescue animals but i hate bunny-hugging
petards and limousine liberals, so that somehow means that i am
anti-rescue group on this one so they forward to me ONE MORE idiotic
'article' (snort), i am not going to be responsible for what i do.
Bwaah! I should have never watched Idiocracy; this shit all seems so
OMINOUS now. Rilly.

Muzak and pipe dreams

Friday morning, something odd happened (of course this stuff only happens to me, right?); as I was driving to school, I was playing with my car’s radio – which I do sometimes just ‘cos I am weird like that. Well, I landed on 88.1, and there is Robin Williams and his liberal ‘fuck, fuck, shit, fuck, fuck’ comedy shtick. I stayed on it, and it continued for some time…and then at a traffic light, an announcer came on and declared that I am listening to XM channel 115. And then the light changed, and the station fuzzled out.

Huh?

So I am crossing the intersection with static (over a teensy smattering of what sounds like dialogue, and is probably a two-off religious station), and as I hit the end of the intersection all of a sudden I am listening to some screaming, blaring metal music (they all sound the same to me, so I don’t know who)…clear as a bell. And then it is gone. More static…within *feet* of where I was picking up clear-as-a-bell metal music, which is only a couple hundred feet from where I was picking up clear-as-a-bell XM channel one-fuckety-fucking-fifteen. And I am trying to think if what just happened is even physically *possible* with radio…and I don’t think so. Random satellite beamings? Ummm…no; it does not work that way, either. I am having a hard time coming up with an answer here. So driving the rest of the way, I pick up nothing. In the parking garage, I start to pick up the staticky ebb-and-flow of some kind of rock music – clearer one moment than the other – and shut off my car.

In seminar, I spend the entire time searching to figure out what in the crap just happened. I have to resort to Google, and after tons of searches, I find this: Get Ready for Terrestrial Eavesdropping.

Oh, that is kinda cool. I mean, I think satellite radio is totally unnecessary (you’ll see me get satellite radio right after I start making Squooshable wear sweaters), but I think the *idea* of swiping signal is very neat. And yes – it does work on home systems, too. As I drive home, turning down my street, I am picking up signals the whole way; apparently I am the only home without fricking XM. Jeez. Sheep.

Butsoanyway.

Friday I was trying to distract myself from all my uber-disturbing thoughts; I have (I almost dread to report this) officially quit smoking. As in forever. As in ‘shan’t pick up the habit again, even if I am under amounts of stress which are unbearable for other humans’. Seriously. I started again finishing my last Magnificent Octopus, and since then have on-again, off-again continued. Sigh.

And I don’t dislike smoking; it is actually highly pleasurable, but then I have The Oral Fixation From Hell, and am therefore an easy sell. I like smoking; it does not bother me, and I have no need to attempt to exert my superiority (or take advantage of others’ kindness) and tell anyone to stub it out (and will no longer have to pick fights by recommending genetic counselling to any drama queen who cannot bear the cigarette smoke of passers-by, and openly patting myself on the back for my own superior genetics). Smoke away, smokers; I think you are Just Swell – Ancodia just will not be joining you. I have good, strong willpower without the need to demonise anyone like that.

It’s the superior mentation that comes with the genetics. :-D

I am *kidding*, for st. god’s sake. And no, I never smoked around my cats – not in the home at all. Someone always emails me to ask, and the answer is no – Romeo has asthma and is in kidney failure, and cannot have smoke around him for *real*, unlike some whiny human drama-queens that just like to control others and do so by playing sick. Plus, I was not a hardcore smoker – I also think it is rude to be so enamoured of le cig that one has to smoke where one shouldn’t. Everyone should just try to be civil, damn it.

Butsoanyway, my point is that I am taking Chantix so that I do not have to wade through that nagging visceral craving that keeps saying, ‘just…one!’. It has been wonderful – no nagging anything. And I figure that within twelve weeks, I will have more than enough upheaval to test my resolve, so stalking out to gas myself will be once again removed from my repertoire of behaviours. Yay.

But one effect of Chantix that is horribly under-stated (besides the fact that colours look brighter/different, though I may be one of the few to notice ‘cos I see different colours out of each eye, and always have) is these dreams! They are very…I don’t know; I usually do not remember most of my dreams, but I am having dreams I remember now every night. And my dreams have always been weird, so I cannot say that they have necessarily gotten weirder, but they seem to be more real. Okay, now let us bring recall that, since having re-started The Pill, I am 0.001 ms away from getting aroused over something, and it is easy to see how at the present time most of my dreams are revolving around sex in some way.

And I have been told that I am moving and talking in my sleep, an idea so gruesome I do not care to even consider it further. Bwaah! The whole world should definitely *not* be privy to some of these!

Sheesh…

But I think that it is worth it…in the long run, I mean. Sigh. Tomorrow I have an early-morning meeting, and then I go get ultrasounded again to check on Millicent the Ovary’s cyst. This should be fun.

Cute.

...have i ever mentioned how much i love the way that Harry always
manages to sneak off, pick a fight, or somehow manage to get out of
giving me any money back?

Sigh. Butsoanyway.

Kate has lent Idiocracy to me, and i am finally getting to watch it
with Meg. Kate said she thought i would love it, and so far i am ready
to hail it as an article of prophecy.

Meg says it reminds her of some of her students.

I am so totally buying this dvd. Swear to St God.

...and then depression set in

Well, i moved some crap out of my office, but no one noticed. I went on Sunday and grabbed some stuff, even though we aren't really supposed to be there when the building is designated empty; it is a dumb security thing. Anyway, so i fired up my desktop for No Real Reason, and then somehow managed to corrupt the registry. Of the practically brand-new, barely-used (remember that I have been downstairs for a majority of the time since it was installed), company-leased Dell. Sigh.

Of course, at the time i didn't know what i had done; some update downloaded as i was pfutzing around, and when i rebooted, i was greeted by bsod telling me that The Hive had eaten my sys32.dll and was coming after me next.

Or whatnot.

We can play around with a lot of things there, but now i had to worry about this potentially looking bad. Sheesh. I mean, it could look like i was being malicious, you know? So I had to back off the moving out crap; I was going for that Totally Gone look, but now I do not think I can. Phoo.

Always something. I swear.

.

Sleepiness...

I am so tired that i can't re-type all the crap about moving stuff out
of my office. Or skipping out today for the moonlighting Job 2...with
no notice. Who knows--if things keep going like this, i might just be
able to manage three jobs. And my program. Woof.

I am kidding, of course; i am so fried and exhausted that i can barely
see straight.

And i have to straighten my personal life out a tad. As always.

And i want one of the little babycats at Eviljob. She is so neat! She
always talks to me when i get in or out of my car, and i feed her each
time. She looks just like Cookie, except with longer fur. :-) When we
trap, i can't take her, but I'll make sure she goes somewhere good.

...and bells on her toesles!

Or maybe I should have titled this 'I've got toesles that jingle-jangle-jingle!', even though they actually don't. 


Meg has added a new epithet for me to her repertoire:  Toe Ring Slut.

I am also known as Shampoo Slut, Cosmetics Slut, Media Slut, Shopping Slut, ..., and so forth.

My specific epithet ;-) as far as Meg is concerned is, I think, Consumerus. 

Meg can bite my ass.  It used to be that every time she and I walked by any arrangement of hair products, Meg would start sing-song whispering, 'Oh, Shampoo Slu-ut...  Shampoo Slu-ut...  Come buy us, Shampoo Slut!  We're lonely, and want to meet all the other shampoos in your shower!'

Meg is *so* lucky that I am not inclined to pop her, 'cos if I were, she'd be popped but good by now. 

Today started out in its normal, shiteous way; I get up way too early, feed my kitties, pill Romeo, and go in to Eviljob, where I wade through either dumb questions or making a chapter lesson that I will never have to train (or occasionally proofing something, or making timing blocks, whatever), etc.; I stay until early afternoon, then when whatever is on NPR starts to lag a little, I head out to my car so I don't miss anything.  :-)  Ok -- today was the same, except that I had to race to the local warehouse clubby thing to buy cat food, and then over to Supermom's SiL's for the Suckerware show.

Note:  I am using Suckerware as just a generic term for the type of 'home show' one occasionally gets roped into, be it *actual* Tupperware, Mary Kay, Partylite, fake purses, whatever.  This one wasn't fake purses, thank god, 'cos the last fake purse party I attended, I left.  I honestly did not realise what the crap was going on until I arrived and saw some of the shit on the dining room table (one might wonder exactly how stupid I can be -- this stupid is how stupid) and it occurred to me that -- conceivably -- I could lose permission to work on some stuff if one of these people (many of whom I had never seen before) is some over-zealous cop and thereby lower my value, probably for life, over crappy stuff I am not going to buy anyway.  Before I walked in the door, I actually thought it was just some purse-selling pyramid scheme like all the others, with regular purses.  No, I am not a natural blonde.  Shut up.  In case anyone is simply dying of curiosity, the one today was Partylite, and yes, I know they are a total rip-off; I just happen to care an awful lot about the hostess for this one, and my take on it is that she (a) got roped into it via a lady at her church (who is a shitty saleswoman, btw), and (b) wanted the free candle-stuffs.  Can you blame her?  Naah.  Plus, she & her SiL really knocked themselves out, food-wise.  Adorable!  Such a mom!  :-)

So we had a fun time at the Suckerware show, actually; really wonderful people who did not give me the first bit of crap about not being religious (a goodly chunk were from Supermom's church, but thankfully they were quite civil, and in return I was quite diplomatic; I can look at the carpet for a couple minutes for someone as awesome as Supermom, and I am 100% honest with her -- she knows I am looking at the carpet -- not because I *tell* her, but because she knows me so well), or wearing pants (I honest-to-gravy forgot this morning; I am easy to get along with, not weak, and could have very easily worn a skirt or dress if I had not had to get up so damned early such that it slipped my mind.  And yes, Supermom never wears pants, slacks, culottes...at all).  For what it is worth though, Supermom herself was not born xtian, she turned it when she married because it was important to her husband and she already believed in a god, then found that she was happy and comfortable in the church of her husband's family.  So now she is that religion -- her family had a few members there, and they are all a *completely* different religion (they are from Trinidad for several generations, but they are actually Indian, ancestrally-wise, though when asked, Supermom says she is Trinidadian), so we had fundamentals, agnostic-y athiests, and Hindus all pigging out and shopping together in peace; you know -- the way the world should be.  I had fun.  :-) 

I begged Meg into going, and both Meg and I ordered stuff.  Now, I would like to mention that *I* ordered $30-something worth, mainly because their stuff is horribly over-priced, but I wanted to help out *my* friend, 'cos she needed to sell like $400-worth to get her gift, or whatever.  Meg, however, found several things she liked, and ended up contributing $130-ish.  But please remember:  It is ok if Meg is the one who is doing it.  And I was trying to send her hand signals that some stuff could be gotten elsewhere, for less.  But the stuff she did get was cute, I do have to admit that. 

Butsoanyway. 

So the party broke up pretty quickly (bad presenter-lady.  tres-way-bad presenter-lady), and Meg and I left to go to this thing downtown Meg wanted to see, an expo in the park kind of thing.  Well in the midst of the snoozefest, I found a booth that was doing fitted toe rings. 

Yay.

I *love* fitted toe rings, especially the stacks, not that a lot of people get to see them -- usually, I am wearing closed-toe shoes of some sort.  But I love the look of toe rings (and anklets, and barefoot sandals, for that matter), and have tons of fun with them -- as long as they are fitted.  I really am not a big fan of the adjustable ones, though they are cute.  Maybe later.  I can totally see me trying to tackle cats in a parking lot and find my fucking foot rings after, ummm-hmmm.  Once I become a Lady of Leisure, I might do rings that cannot take a beating.  In the meantime, here.  Look.  See!  Also here (*hilarious* caption!!)!  Any more than that is bordering on too much, I think.  It should be done tastefully.  Oooh!

At the present time, I have quite a bichiya look going on (Supermom not counting, cos she's Trini, Fundy, and at Eviljob, I work with a lot of guys from the RofI at Job 2, and when I have slipped my shoes off, or run into one at school or Out, I have had to explain that no, I am not married, or why on Earth a reg'lar ol' Honky Chick would be making with the serious foot jewellery), and the two rings I bought this (early) evening totally round my bichiya-lookin' toes out.  I had to explain to Meg at least four times that I can (and will) take them off, change them around, wear only one, none, two, all five...whatever.  Right now, I have just the second toes with two full stacks, but I may change later...kind of like I always do.  I changed to what I *was* wearing just maybe a month ago.  And, yes...I *do* keep my feet really clean. 

Sigh...I am going to make Meg take me for Thai today if it kills me.  That was just a side note.  :-)  I want Thai coffee. 

Butsoanyway, that is what we did; then I went to dinner with her.  We bought a new computer for my father a little over a week ago and are waiting for him to tell us he has blown it up, but so far, so good.  Yay.  Though we ended up having to buy a printer also, 'cos his printer was not compatible with Vista.  Grr.  Hate Vista.  Hate it.  Though it does have a cute little task bar thingy on the right.  Speaking of parents, I had someone ask me how my mommy is doing, and why I don't talk about her as much as I have in the past.  In case anyone is interested, it's 'cos she is holed up, writing a book.  No, seriously.  It is (now don't laugh!) a type of life coaching book in her field of expertise (STOP LAUGHING!  If *I* am not allowed to laugh, *you* are not allowed to laugh!)  She's been on it for some time now, and *says* she will be finished shortly and then gets back stuff to change, and then in theory is done.  And no, it is not a vanity press thing.  Yay, Mummers...ummm...I think. 

Lord, god; someone will actually be getting guidance from my mommy.  Save us all. 

.

next good idea

I think I am going to move my office-stuffs out of Job 2; I never get to be *in* my office anyway.  This option just occurred to me.  I would do it today, but I have my HoD seminar, then a meeting, and then a working lunch (the meeting and lunch are the *new* Job 2 stuffs), then I have to wander over to Eviljob. 

Sigh.

Then I have to feed the kitties (they are completely re-homed, feeding station-wise), and then go feed *my* kitties.  And kiss them.  Then I need to type at least 3 forms that were supposed to be submitted for approval, but since I have been too busy to monitor the goings-on at the other Job 2, were not submitted.  And I have to be at Eviljob almost all Saturday morning and afternoon, then I am committed to some kind of Mary Kay-like Suckerware party at a co-worker's home.  She has to have a couple hundred in sales, so I have to order *something*.  Sigh.

And I still have some stuff to tie up at Job 2 (the not-new one) which I will do probably Sunday, so I guess I can move the token crap I threw in there when I was being all optimistic about getting to actually *be* in the office.  Regardless, I want a completely dramatic Monday, 'cos I am planning on not showing up at all.  I think they check my office and le basement when I am not there, which has been more and more often.  There is a running joke with the new J2 that one way to slip something by funding-wise is to put *my* name in the email subject and body, 'cos they are convinced that queries about me are being filtered.  It's kind of funny, really.

Sigh.

.

I am stupid.

No, seriously. I saw the headline, and was concerned over Thanksgiving:

Turkey threatens repercussions for U.S.

Shaddap.

What allegedly intelligent adults *actually* do.

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

I am so over this.

This is what I get for screwing around all last year. I am so over this. I could have overloaded and been done with this class. Seriously; the opportunity presented itself, it is just that I would have had to take the class with Bitch Need Straitjacket, and I didn't want to do that.

BNS and I had a differing of opinion on a few points.

She is wrong, of course. Was wrong, and continues to be wrong. So no, it would not do to subject myself to that crap again; not at all.

And yes, I really did la-la The Girl From Ipanema at her. And yes, I actually do count as an SME in that instance courtesy of one of my Eviljob incarnations.

Bwaah.

Butsoanyway; on to my immediate problem:

I (again) have something due (again) and (again) have put it off til the last second (again) cos I don't want to do this crap (still).

Sigh.

It is impossible that I have *nothing* that I am doing that could not be streamlined or tasked-out. I have to take a searching moral inventory.

Like, just as soon as I am done with this stuff.

I am a control freak. I really, really am like, Lord God Queen Bufus Bo-Hemeth of the Control Freaks. They all bow before me...at their appointed time, else I get pissy with them.

bwaah.

.

Mobile-ly Upward

My birthday present from Harry just came in, late per Harry. It is a
gorgeous PDA! What's funny is that enough time has passed since I was
a high-paid management ho that this thing makes my old one look
downright shameful. This has RIM capabilities along with an HTML
browser, .pdf capability, QWERTY keyboard,
doc/spreadsheet/presentation functionality (albeit limited; it is only
a PDA, for chrissake), and a bunch of other stuff I have not had time
to play with, besides the standard IM/text/multimedia stuff. Oh! And
it has Real Player and some other media player. I am *amazed*, simply
amazed that Harry would be so thoughtful. He still has not paid me
back a damn dime, but at least he gives good presents. Seriously.

Quit being batshit!

I believe that, for whatever reason, i attract people that are insane. Or something. To make a really long story short, this year Baby Bat is working at a quasi-local haunted house; she works it every year in fact, for the past god-knows-how-many years. Bully for her. Meg and I had some friends come into town over the weekend, and they wanted to go to the haunted house. So, just because BB and i text back and forth a lot and i thought we were somewhat friends, i sent her a text message basically saying that we would be there, cos they just opened. Ok, fine. So she sends back this weird message about how Saturday nights are usually bad (huh?) and when i replied with something to the effect of how i was sorry to hear that, and that was odd, but we had guests who wouldn't be in town any other night, she suddenly starts sending this *flood* of messages about how if we go, don't, don't, DON'T take pictures, as it is not allowed. Do not even bring a camera, she says, cos it could end up confiscated. I finally told her that I had to turn my phone off 'cos I was going into a doctor's office (I lied), and I stopped responding, but BB still sent three more text messages. Gah.

I intentionally did not acknowledge her when we went; I do not know what in the hell was going on, but other than the typical no-flash-photography-inside stuff, there was nothing different from any other year. One person in our group speculated after seeing her that she is a very vain person who did not want pictures of her taken where she could not control how she looked. I am somewhat tempted to buy that explanation; BB is a tich on the vain side at times. And no, that is not one way in which she and I are similar.

But I am so, so tired of everyone I know being neurotic. I really, really am.