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.

Rally 'Round the Simon!

Please send positive energy in Simon's direction; he is awaiting test results over at Rock and Roll Grammarian; he is at the vet's, and if all the hoping and praying I am doing is counting, our Grammarian will be told that they made a terrible mistake, and that Simon is fine. And then they will give her cookies. And jewellery.

Hang in there, Simon!

.

I am not a number, I am a free man!

I am so fucking sick of the project to which i am currently assigned
at Job 2 that i can hardly stand to think about it any longer. I am
STILL WAITING for transfer out (and the group trying to transfer me in
keeps being stalled, even though i was supposed to start with them
many weeks ago, have some really light stuff for their group already
going, and already have space set up there), and that is what i get
for doing so well over the past year and a half. So much for the
fruits of labour; in my case, i am being handed the kumquat of
bureaucracy as a thank-you. I am in the basement today. Again. Still.
I have a huge, beautiul office (which i got in the first of a few
grandiose requests) that i can never use. And i am a perfectionist, i
am now told. Funny, that. I haven't decided if that is a left-handed
compliment, or right-handed criticism. ;-) seriously though, this
whole situation reached kafkaesque proportions a few weeks ago, and i
have to figure out a way to talk about it here; i am about to try
matching their nutsness and just show up when i feel like it, cos
ordering weird crap had no effect. I don't think they are even looking
at what i ask for, cos i just got in the first of my strange orders.
Or what was supposed to be strange orders, if anyone had looked. I am
afraid to go too overboard, cos i do have to stay working here in
order to get transferred out, but i am trying to be annoying at this
point. Seriously annoying. I really should have asked for Mikrosil.
And i am leaving now, unapprovedly, to take Rhett to the vet, 'cos he
is overdue for his check-up.