Yay! More typing to do!

Well, Meg’s off to the tournament in Vegas, and here I sit, organising the closets of the world.

Well, metaphorically-speaking.  

I did get into a fight on Tuesday, but that’s all water under the bridge now; I’ve become bored with the whole thing.  

I have about five new assignments (yay.), and they’re actually not that difficult.  Or they wouldn’t be, rather, if I had ever bothered to get a decent printer.  Oh, this is a long story.  Let it suffice to say that my printer bit the dust a few months ago (it prints, but it looks like shit), and it almost makes more sense to buy a whole new computer outfit, since there are things on my old system that I need to upgrade or fix anyway.  Pfft.  I don’t want to spend more money right now, but it looks like I may not be able to get out of it.  :-\  Grumble.  

Which isn’t going to help anything, ‘cos I need to print now, but…whatever.

And wow, do I really want cashew shrimp right now.  


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Ancodia who?

I know; I suck. I have meant to blog something for a few days now, and have just been too busy to finish anything I started; I usually do a post as I am typing something else, but this week has been unrelenting—I really have not had the time to do more than a few sentences before I get stuck working on something for six hours...I need sunlight. Sheesh. I had one started about a really weird dream I had, and I will get that up, maybe, eventually. Other stuff I am just sticking below:

Sunday was a bust as far as cat-catching goes. Thankfully, because it was so overcast, it worked out such that I hadn’t drugged her when it started raining like a bitch, and we gave up for the day. Damn it. So, for about an hour, it went like this:

I said, ‘Mehitabel’; she said ‘Wot?’ I said, ‘Mehitabel’; she said ‘Wot?’
I said, ‘Mehitabel’; she said ‘Wot?’ I said, ‘Mehitabel’; she said ‘Now wot you want?’

Yeah.

So I came home and was pretending to work for a little bit (I just love doing that; I am *so* easy to fool!), and then this person asked me if I wanted to do the dinner-and-movie thing, and we negotiated it down to dinner at this tiny place around the corner because I became annoyed that all my suggestions were being overlooked. I should have been hospitable and offered to make dinner, but I just didn’t feel like it, especially after all my suggestions were being ignored. Which is more my fault than anything else, because I was not, in fairness, communicating well, in that I wasn’t offering specific suggestions. I do that sometimes. But it was annoying. But I am letting it go.

On Friday, I had to write one of the nastiest emails I have ever written (and hit ‘reply all’, so that everyone received it) to a work-friend after they sent a link (as a blind-link forwarded email entitled only, ‘CHECK THIS OUT!’ which I was retarded enough to click) to some of the vilest crap I have ever read, and I consider myself to be a pretty liberal audience. This person hasn’t replied yet (though I have gotten other replies, all in agreement, including one person who thanked me for warning them not to read it, except for one person who made a really—in my opinion—misguided attempt to tell me to not censor other people…humph), and I had today off from Job II, so I guess I will hear about my email tomorrow. I’m not as revolted today as I was on Friday (and Saturday, but they were off Saturday), but I still think that I have every right to be offended; I really, honestly deeply resent this person inflicting this on me (and the other people to whom it was also forwarded), and I am still going to tell them this in person. I want it out of my head, and those ten minutes of my life back. Asshole. See? Now I am getting all fired-up again, but honest to fig newtons, after reading that shit I feel like I could drink a gallon of Listerine then jump into a pool of bleach and scrub myself with steel wool and Ajax for a week and still feel disgustingly dirty. Ugh. The moral of this is to be responsible in what you inflict on others; that’s why I would not link to it here. I mean, I am sure that I have gone overboard at times, and I probably will again, and again after that…but if it is ever something that bad, well…it was unintentional. I don’t think I have ever mentally assaulted someone like that. Grr.

I am actually going to get to sleep early tonight and try to forget about this shit. Again.

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The Fundamental Theorem of Poker

I am (again) swamped. Yay. I have both jobs coming at me from different directions wanting something. Fortunately (or not, I guess) it’s all written stuff. Bleah. I am not getting enough sleep, and when I *do* sleep, the dreams (that I remember) are all weird.

Meg came over last night (she left again today) to make me watch the WPT game at the Reno Hilton from when we were there in March; I shouldn’t have taken a break, but I did. So shoot me.

The game was cool enough, but the most awesome part was getting to see one of my favourite dealers, Josh. Josh got to deal the first part and the last part of the final table! Josh was a total trip—funny as hell—most days there he was in rotation behind Larry (who is a major sweetie, also), and he would tap Larry out in the funniest way!

I guess, actually, he would zap Larry out! :-)

The Hilton—because of the weather—was a breeding ground for static electricity. I already wrote about how freaking dry I was throughout my stay, but I may have forgotten to mention my many brushes with electrocution. :-) Well, the first time I met Josh, Larry was dealing to us and Josh walked up behind Larry (where we all could see) and did this exaggerated moonwalking kind of shuffle for a second, and then touched Larry with his index finger to the back of Larry’s neck and made a ‘pop!’ noise.

Larry rolled his eyes and continued with the hand we were in, not even glancing at Josh.

Josh did it again.

We—those of us at the table with a sense of humour—were in hysterics. ‘Don’t encourage him,’ Larry said.

Josh did it again. And again. Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle…pop!

‘Man, would you quit?!?’ Larry said.

Josh smiled at us. ‘I just wanted to let you know I’m here!’

‘I know you’re here; I saw you walk up!’

‘Well… I just wanted to make sure that you knew.’

Too funny! And this went on all week, to the point where Larry probably lost the will to live. :-) I hope Josh (as well as the rest of the dealers) took a huge tip—he deserves it for being so entertaining. And he’s a good player, too. :-) I played at a table with him once, and watched him as I waited for a table a bunch of other times—he really is pretty good, way-better than the one dealer who did make the final table, Mr I’m Going To Go All In On Ace-Five Unsuited Cos I’m Steaming (wasn’t it As 5c?) And Whine When I Lose. Don’t you give my Josh any shit, boy; he didn’t make you play that way, he just handed you the cards.

And with that in mind, let’s revisit the Fundamental Theorem of Poker. No, not Sklansky’s, *mine*:
Let f be a continuous real-valued skilled poker player defined on a full poker table [chips, chair]. Let F be the function defined for x in [chips, chair] by

,

where x = Travel Channel Player Interference of Game

then

for every x in [chips, chair].

Let f be a continuous real-valued skilled poker player defined on a full poker table [chips, chair]. Let F be a function such that

for all x in [chips, chair]

then

.

Which clearly demonstrates that the imbecile will suck out his flush on the river. QED.

Glad to have helped.

For my next feat, I will make use of the Riemann Integral to demonstrate that for every straight one makes on the flop, a Travel Channel Player will suck out quads. Oh, yes. They will.

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Yay; new stuff to do!

Father’s Day went just fine; I didn’t sleep much the night before, and had loads of time to myself on the drive over, the visit (again) didn’t suck, and I even got a little bit done for a meeting I was supposed to have today when I came home.  It ended up being unnecessary; I got a call just after I had finished getting dressed (in fairness, I was starting way-early to have enough time to grab coffee and be leisurely about it) to tell me that They had decided to just go with me as a team member based on something I did last quarter, so that was cool.  So I am on the team of a large-ish project and have job security for another few months.  Well, isn’t that special?  

But seriously, that’s kind-of cool; I was happy.  

Right now, I am updating my JavaStuffs, which are set to automatically update, but haven’t for some reason.  Stupid computers; I wish hitting them had some result.  Aside from satisfaction, I mean.  

Romeo seems to be doing fine on the Theo-Dur, and I have discovered Pill Pockets, which means that I don’t have to get his meds compounded at the human pharmacy that does that anymore (at fifteen dollars for compounding—on top of the price of the medication itself—plus the time to drive over to the pharmacy and advance planning and so on, this is a *very* welcome discovery); Rome really likes the salmon flavour, and I really love the fact that dosing him is no longer a MAJOR fight.  Even after compounding, I still had a capsule to get down his throat every night, and that was so difficult that I dreaded it, as I am certain he did.  :-)  Our relationship is now significantly better.

Squooshable, a/k/a Tippy-Toe Dancer (when I feed him, he purrs, arches his back, and dances around in circles, and it looks like he’s doing it on his tippy-toes), my personal Nibblonian, has been really subdued yesterday and today; I don’t think anything is wrong with him—he’s still drinking, eating, pooping, and purring—but he hasn’t been feeling very playful.  I haven’t been ARGHed on once.  Maybe he’s growing up?  :-\  I did give him some tuna-flavoured Laxastat after he got into a drawer (he is *so* smart!  He can open drawers!), just in case he’d eaten something he shouldn’t have (in that drawer, paper mainly), but that was on (I think) Saturday, so I don’t think it’s that.  I guess we’ll see.  Because I am paranoid, I will ask Meg (she’s back, and leaving again on Thursday) to check in on him tomorrow, ‘cos I have to be gone all fricking day on Tuesdays for this new project.  Augh.  

Butsoanyway.

On Sunday I left early, and put food out for Mehitabel on my way out of town; about halfway through visiting my father, I received a phone call about Mehitabel’s appointment on Monday for a spay.  I told the lady that I’d not been able to catch her yet, and really couldn’t talk right now, so just please to cancel the appointment.  I’ve heard nothing from this newsletter blurb this group said they’d do, and I already have a tentative meeting this Sunday with Chrissy and her SO to try to get Mehitabel with drugs (her SO fishes all the time, and can throw a casting net like a champ, Chrissy said; I bought a casting net just for this purpose, and told Chrissy that I’d give it to him if he can land Mehitabel), not that I explained any of this to the lady who phoned on Sunday.  I didn’t explain it because (1) I don’t feel that I am obligated to—they were the ones who insisted that to get ANY help from them, I had to be ‘in the program’, and I told them when I set the appointment that, without help, I did not expect that I could keep it, and (2) Since I was at my father’s, I didn’t want to get into the whole discussion with him, so she should have anticipated that, it being a Sunday as well as Father’s Day.  And I know that I sound bitchy, but…whatever.  Her response to my telling her that I hadn’t caught Mehitabel and to cancel the appointment was to ask if I had ‘just given up, or something’, so I had to step outside to clarify that no, I hadn’t given up, and explain (again—this was also discussed our first two conversations) that Mehitabel will no longer come near me, won’t even walk over to the food I put down if she sees me, and refuses to walk into a trap.  And so forth.  We ended up in this huge twenty-minute conversation where she kept trying to explain things like how the cat won’t just ‘walk into’ a trap, that I have to put food in there (really?), that if I am still putting food out and putting traps out that the cat won’t go in (really?), and that trying to catch the cat by hand is not likely to work (yeah, I have noticed that), and that she doesn’t like the idea of my drugging the cat (then *you* come out and catch her; *I* have run out of ideas).  I had to make the conversation short, so I just left the appointment cancelled and pretended like I was taking notes on the finer points of cat-catching (e.g., don’t keep feeding them if you are putting traps out).  I think that probably this group provides a great service for people who have already caught the cats, and if I had talked to her a year ago, some of this might have been helpful.  Just not now.  

And by being ‘in the program’, I am only getting a free spay—but only on a certain day, and I may have to wait for up to a month for another opening.  I can pay for the spay myself; Dr Superhero will only charge me $50 or $60, and by taking a free space, I am taking away a space from someone who might need it.  Plus, what am I supposed to do—stash Mehitabel in a cage in my garage for a month?  Dr Superhero is open twenty-four hours a day; I can take her over the moment I catch her like I have with all the other cats.  Plus with Dr Superhero I can add on a rabies shot, antibiotic shot, and other vaccines (like for distemper and stuff), which I will do for Mehitabel.  Through this group, I cannot add on shots—I would have to take her to Dr Superhero for that anyway.  Plus, if Dr Superhero has few boarders, he will keep Mehitabel for a week to let her recuperate, and I would get the same rate as Chrissy (the ‘rescue rate’, and for Nice Cat they didn’t even charge me any boarding back at Christmas) that I think is $5 or $10 a day; if she’s wild (as in vicious), they’ll feed and water her at least once a day which I know is not ideal, but it’s better than being out-of-doors, and it’s probably about as good as I could personally manage (though I don’t know where I would house her; it would have to be somewhere away from my cats, which pretty much leaves the garage—and that would just be mean).  

I guess maybe she was bored or something, and that’s why we had such a long conversation, but it was still kind of annoying.  I know to not feed them if a trap is out, and I know the cat won’t ‘just walk in’, and I know to put stinky tuna and halibut and stuff in the trap, not just dry cat food; I know all these things.  But I am descended from a grandmother who as a teenager chased a priest out of her kitchen with a knife and quit the church because after her mother died, the priest came over almost every day and would sit and drink cup after cup of tea (that she made) and correct everything she did for her father and siblings—cooking, cleaning, and so forth.  As the story goes, my grandmother was one day cutting a chicken, he started correcting her again, and at that point she had just taken all that she was going to take.  :-)  I am really familiar with that feeling; Grandmother and I share a dislike for senseless criticism and Monday Morning Quarterbacking.  

Well, we would share it if she were still alive.

Butsoanyway.  

I am getting to sleep early(-ish) so that I can go do productive things tomorrow.  Yeah, right.  

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…and in the air there’s aftershave lotion in the wake of a snake bit Persian…

Ok, so I spent the whole day feeling guilty over all the bad things I thought about my mother on Friday.  :-\  Such is my life—but she *really* did try to be her worst.  Really.  I phoned her today and apologised, and she insisted that I admit that I misremember things.  Fine.  So I did.  I don’t even care anymore.  Whatever.  And I have to drive out to see my father again tomorrow, ‘cos Meg asked me to.  I don’t really mind; it will give me the chance to drop off some books to him.  Meg asked me to solely as a distraction—she is going to phone him to wish him a happy Father’s Day, but she doesn’t want him to know where she is, so she’s going to lie and tell him she has things to do, or doesn’t feel well, or something, and I am supposed to back her up on this, because he would *really* disapprove of what Meg is doing, and don’t you just know that, out of all of us, she’s the Golden Girl, and so she can’t tarnish the ol’ image there.  

Sheesh.

So then now *here’s* the deal:  Now I feel badly about going out to see my father—last weekend and tomorrow—because it will upset my mother further, and because I potentially have to lie for Meg, and I also feel badly because I also know that of all his children, he probably wants me out there the least.  So yay.  And don’t get the wrong idea—Father’s Day means little to him; he didn’t even want to *be* a father.  At least that’s the read I get—about the not caring, I mean; I know for a fact that he didn’t want to be a father.  And I always get stuck in the middle of everything; I haven’t done anything for him for Father’s Day since I was a child, and there’s a reason for that.  I don’t know; maybe he does care now that he’s older.  Who in the hell knows with him?

It seems that everything I do anymore just becomes *so* freaking involved anymore.  I guess that I should just shut up and be grateful that they are still around to pester me.  :-\  It’s only natural that my father is impossible to know or please, and my mother lives to hate him.  And so it goes.  

I’m becoming grumpy and bitter again.  Somebody kick me.



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Please remind me…

…to never go out to lunch again with my mother.  What a disaster.  She got bored today and phoned me to meet her for lunch; as we were talking, it came up that I had gone on Sunday to visit my father, at which point she decided she would make me regret having done so by dredging up all kinds of things that I do my best every day to just forget about, and to make things worse, she misremembers an *amazing* amount so that it favours her.  And I tried to correct her, and I asked her to drop it, and I even tried just ignoring her, but she JUST WOULD NOT QUIT, to the point where I was getting a migraine, becoming pathologically depressed, and was about to cry.  Finally, when she was in the middle of completely misrepresenting her role in a particular Really Unpleasant Event (that I don’t even want to discuss in the first place!!), I had all that I could take and said, ‘Fine.  FINE!  You’re my motherfucking HERO, ok?  Might we drop it now?’  

Then she became angry because I was in public with her and wasn’t speaking like a lady.

Whatever, Bitch; last I checked, ladies *also* didn’t go out of their way to make others feel sad and uncomfortable, even more than they refrained from talking like a sailor, particularly at a meal; as a matter of fact, I believe I’ve learnt—from you!—that ladies are supposed to do everything within their power to make others feel all welcome and everything.  So fuck you.  

Needless to say, I was really upset by the time I left, so I went shopping.  

Well, we were near our city’s largest mall; what am I supposed to do?  It helps me feel less miserable.  I bought something for myself that I shouldn’t have as an ‘I’m sorry your life sucks so fucking bad’ present.  But I did get a good deal on it.  :-)  

Then I came home and got at least some work done despite having a raging headache and wound up in an IM conversation with Nurse Betty after reading a really cute ‘I love you, you’re my best friend’ email she’d sent (she always sends forwards like that to me), and so by then I was just completely *sobbing*.  Someone (family exempted) might be able to push me to cry by being mean to me, but probably not.  You can hit me, kick me, name-call me, and if I don’t do something back, I will just take it; but if you want to make me cry, be nice to me.  I hate that; I hate it when people are nice to me like that and make me start crying.  I even asked Betty to please pick a fight with me, or something, ‘cos all this crying was making my headache worse.  

Nurse Betty works with people who die all the time, every day.  In fact, if you have Betty as your nurse, odds are you’re going to kick it soon.  For this reason, she’s not going to ever pick a fight with a living human being she loves; she’s just not that type of person.  Betty doesn’t even fight with her husband; to her, it’s not worth it.  

On the other hand, her husband is an unbelievably awesome man; there’s no need to yell at him.  Well, except when he leaves the toilet seat up and she gets her butt wet in the middle of the night.  :-)  

But my point is that Betty—unlike some mothers I could mention—understands that not everyone who is here today is guaranteed to be here tomorrow, and so verbally abusing them for the sake of making yourself feel better (or whatever) is out of the question.  So much for that request.  

But at least I am not *completely* unlovable.  As some would have me think.  

So nyaah, Psychobitch.  

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Curses! Foiled again!

I have just one word:  Ebolamonkeyman.  But it’s too funny….  



Barrister williams whiteOkoye & Okoye Chambers23 kofo Abayomi AvenueApapa, Lagos - Nigeria.

Dear Ancodia,I hope this e-mail wouldn't come to you as a surprise. Having gone through your profile, I am convinced and pleased to solicit your sincere and urgent assistance over this matter. I am Barrister   Williams White, an Attorney to one late Mr. Smith J. Ancodia a local contractor with the Lagos State Government of Nigeria.
My client Late was awarded a contract worth of Twenty-Five  Million  United States Dollars (25,000,000:00USD) by the Lagos state Government of Nigeria for the maintenance and construction of roads in the states in 1999 and the contract was fully executed by my late client. My client has been paid  Fifteen Million United States Dollars from the contract and he was to receive the balance payment of the contract, but unfortunately he died with his  entire family in the plane crash of Union Transport Africaines Flight Boeing 727 in Cotonou, Benin Republic on the December 26,2003. You will read more stories about the crash on visiting this website:
Www.cnn.com/2003/WORLD/africa/12/26/benin.crash/<http://www.cnn.com/2003/WORLD/africa/12/26/benin.crash/>
as he told me before he departed to Cotonou that he is going to spend the Christmas holiday with one of his closet Lebanese with his entire family and from there he will proceed home.
Sequel to the death of late client, there is every need to present a next of kin to Lagos State Government so that they can release the balance of his contract money. Already the CONTRACT PAYMENT OFFICE under the Lagos State Government has contacted me that the balance payment for the executed contract, which has been approved for payment, is ready for collection. I am therefore asked to present the beneficiary/next of kin for the claim of the money (draft) from their office.
At this juncture, I have decided to divert this Ten Million United States Dollars to a foreigner who will be presented to LSG, by soliciting the assistance of a reliable individual (A Foreigner) that will be presented as the beneficiary/next of kin of the fund. I will prepare all legal documents in your name as the successor /next of kin from our Federal High Court to back  up the claim on your behalf which will enable Lagos State Government to release the money to me on your behalf as the known next of kin to my late client.
As soon as I hear your positive response; action will commence. Please bear in mind that there is no risk involved in this transaction, but it requires absolute sincerity and confidentiality due to the nature of the transaction.
I am willing to give you 40% of the fund as a reward for your assistance in this transaction and I have set aside 5% of the money to take care of any expenses that will be involved locally or internationally during the process of executing the business. I will want you to respond to my email via below email address if you find it difficult geting this one,with your private phone numbers, fax number cell phone #, your home/Company'sAddress I look forward to your swift response.Regards,Barrister Williams White.
Alternative E-mail ID: white2@ciaoweb.it OR williamswhite@ciaoweb.it
Note: Having or bearing the same name with my client make no difference but for someone to come from his country that answer same name either first or surname matters not. Howevedr, it will make this claim very easy as I am going to present and submit your name as the next of kin and with me the Attorney to the late man you have nothing to fear as I will be contacted by the Contract Payment Committee for confirmation which I will confirm you as the next of kin and the money will be paid to you. Mind you, I work at Okoye & Okoye Chambers.
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My reply:

My Dearest Darling Snookums DJ Dub-Dub,

How nice it has been to hear from you again!  My goodness—I seem to have quite a few relatives that die over there, don’t I?  One might begin to wonder if I could possibly be knocking them all off with a profit motive, no?

With that in mind, I would like to state unequivocally that I had no direct hand in the Benin crash, nor did I employ any agent to hasten the...shall we say premature landing of that 727, and I resent the implication that such might be the case.  Repeating rumours of that nature has proven to be a mis-step on the part of many a well-meaning barrister.  And forty percent?  Sir, I am offended; that is a purchase of silence which borders on usury—yet another mis-play on your part.  

That having been said, as Mr Ancodia was such a close friend of yours and you have knowledge of the events leading up to his demise, I regret to inform you that, clearly, you are now in a unique, untenable, and unenviable position.  Essentially, fear not; my people shall contact your people.  Physically.

To make my job at this point easier, please respond to my enquiry with your home address and the name(s) and location(s) of all relatives who may also have knowledge of this situation, including children under the age of eighteen; they, after all, are the worst talkers.

Sincerely,
Ancodia Ancodia

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