I've been called worse...

Okay, so I'm at work, and I hear there is a tin of cookies in my mailbox.

Sweet sauce!

I usually dislike the trek through the plant to the front offices where my mailbox resides, the front offices being upstairs offices, which means I have to tango-two-step up the stairs where only a thin pane of plastic keeps me from falling to my doom on the plant floor, but doesn't keep everyone from seeing the attempt of course (I have issues with stairs, no?)

But this time? It was all about the cookies!

I put my cookie blinders on and made a very un-bee like beeline to the front of the building (there's a lot of stuff to walk around).

And lo and behold, a tin of cookies! Plus a free calendar from some credit union bank. Merry Belated Christmas to me. Guess I should check my mailbox more often.

Anywhoo, I grab my mail (mainly consisting of Here-Fix-My-Problems) and the Tin-O-Cookies (tm) and start heading back. Only I work in a place where you're not allowed to have food in non-office areas. And this Tin-O-Cookies (tm) was all gussied up in crinkly plastic with a silver curly bow on top. Not easily hidden.

This one time, I was hungry, and bought a tin of tuna and crackers from the vending machine (yes, vending tuna - I'm adventurous!) and had to hide the tin of tuna down my pants, (had it wedged between the tummy rolls and the undies' elasto-band - ingenous!) because putting the tin in my pockets looked like I was caring around a can of tobacco, another no-no here. Actually, it didn't work down the pants, looked like I had a growth on my coochie. I ended up wedging the can of tuna between the boobs and walked through the plant hoping no one noticed the vague impression of a third boob.

This time, the Tin-O-Cookies (tm), which is the same size tin of holiday butter cookies you see in any store, was waaaaaaay too big to fit down my pants or wedge between the boobs. Well, it could fit down the pants, I'd just look like a weird-ass hunchbackfront and that would draw too much attention. And it was too poofy to smuggle with the boobs.

So I had to be covert.

So I grabbed two reams of printer paper and wedged the Tin-O-Cookies (tm) between it and my boob and placed the mail on top, as the clear crinkly plastic was poking out in an annoying Look At Me I'm So Pretty And Crinkly fashion.

Covert like a ninja!

I made it back with no one stopping me. Probably could have worn my clothes inside out and had cookies sticking out my nose and no one would have stopped me, but its always good to play it safe.

Ninja style!

So anyways, I get back to my desk with my loot and Mr. Desk Neighbor wants to see what's inside. Cookies, duh, but he wanted to actually see the cookies, because he got a tin too and wants to know if its worth the effort to retrieve them.

So I start to unwrap the Tin-O-Cookies (tm)... Now, I'm not anal about unwrapping paper wrapped gifts. I don't need to make sure the paper doesn't get ripped and is reusuable. I also don't like to make too much of a mess of ripping it to shreds because I'm usually the one picking up the mess afterwards. But this time, with the crinkly plastic and the curly silver ribbon, I wanted to take my time. I already knew what was inside, so I was going to enjoy the process.

Work Procrastination at its finest.

And in the process, it irritated antsy Mr. Desk Neighbor to no end.

MDN: Do you want a pair of scissors?
ME: No.

He stands behind me while I continue to tug on the ribbon tied around the crinkled plastic. It's slow going, tugging it a centimeter at a time. Tough little bastard.

MDN: Do you want a knife?
ME: Nope.

I attack it from a different angle, pulling the crinkly paper out of the silver ribbon's death grip.

MDN: My god, you're dial-up!

I about busted up laughing over that one. One more pull though and I freed the cookies, liberating them in time to get in my bellllllaaaaay.

So now I've got coffee, butter cookies, while the computer plays a CD of Charlie Brown Christmas music my cousin in-law made for me.

~ Heaven ~

Jingly Highlights

As Co-Worker Jack so kindly pointed out yesterday (before he *cough cough* called in sick a day after I suggested how awesome it would be if we called in sick *cough cough*) I've been depriving him of much blogging loon-y goodness.

'Tis a shame, as I'm sure all can agree.

So, as I sit here at my desk in the office all alone with no one to talk to and no one to hear me sing along with the Let's Only Play Christmas Songs radio station (which I'm so totally in the mood for now) or the I Want A Hippopotamus for Christmas web site (which is best sung along with at the top of ones lungs) with a pile of work to do that I'd rather not be doing, I'm gonna type up a little Past Few Weeks Recap.

Hmmm... New Year's Resolution #1 just might be 'stop it with the annoyingly long sentences already!'

Anywhoo... on with the recap!

Went home for thanksgiving. (Sheesh, its been that long since I last posted!) Had much to be thankful for and all that blah blah blah warm mushiness.

Shopping at a mall on Black Thursday (day after turkey day) is fun when you're with family and friends, as long as one of those family members isn't your impatient grandmother who doesn't understand why the lines are so long and who flags down poor frazzled Denny's hostesses and demands coffee even though the friendly frazzled hostess said our friendly frazzled waiter would be there in just a moment with the damn drinks! (That scenario happened the year before, this year was grandma-free!)

Came back and finished the final projects for my two writing workshop classes. Got an A in the one class, have no idea yet what grade I'm getting in the other class. I'm pretty sure I'll get a passing grade, and sadly that's just fine and dandy with me right now.

Still haven't signed up for classes for Winter Quarter. Which... uh... start in less than two weeks. D'oh!

Some same-old-same-old's:
a) work continues to be busy and a major pain in my ass, which wouldn't be much of a problem if I wasn't getting less and less motivated to get it done
b) still addicted to a video game
c) still as broke as a spoke

Drove back up to my parent's house this last weekend for an All Girlfriend Xmas Bash. I <3 hanging out with my old high school girlfriends.

I also love "light bulb kisses".

Teaching a friend's kid a harmless yet potentially annoying bad habit is wrong. But fun.

Also fun? Emailing girlfriends at work about giving laundry elves as Christmas presents instead of doing work.


Well, that pretty much brings me up to today I guess, though I'm sure I'm forgetting something I should have mentioned. Hmmm....

Things to look forward to over the next few days:

Going to the mall with the HB tonight to finish up the Christmas shopping.

Starting a new book I've been dying to read (especially after hearing the HB ooh! and a-hah! like crazy while reading it these past few days),

Getting motivated to do some much needed laundry some time before Saturday.

Driving back up to my parent's house.
[ sarcasm ] Yay for holiday traffic! [ / sarcasm ]

Hanging with the girlfriends and the family again.

Mmmmm.... Is it Friday yet?

Ghosts and Quotes and The Art of Procrastination

Over at Jodi's site she's wondering if people believe in ghosts. I said that I do. I haven't seen a ghost myself, but I believe in the possibility.

I really enjoy hearing other people's ghost stories. Could they all be making them up? All be completely delusional? It's possible. Maybe. But I doubt it.

I was thinking about it, and I'm pretty sure my belief in ghosts came about after hearing a particular ghost story. I'm not sure how old I was, elementary/junior high-ish I think. I just remember that I was at my best friend's house, and it was either on or right before Halloween. My BBBF's father regaled us all with a story from his youth, of a time long ago when he was working in a... hmmm... I want to say a morgue... but that's not quite right. A mortuary perhaps... Anywhoo... He was really convincing and I totally bought everything he said. I looked up to him, trusted him, so why would he lie? :)

Looking back on it now, I realize he could have been shining us all on. Making up a story to entertain the little kiddies. Either way, I don't want to know the truth. I kind of like believing in the eeriness of that story. It was magical in away. But even if I did learn that it had all been made up I'd still believe in ghosts. I couldn't help it, it's just engrained in me to believe in the possibilities of it all.

Thinking of this as I was (and procrastinating at work very efficiently thank you very much), I was reminded of perhaps my favorite Shakespeare quote:

"There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

Oh how I love that quote.

I wanted to find the exact wording, so I did a search and found my new favorite website, a wiki quote page!

*drool*

Quote of the Day from that site:

"What do we live for, if it is not to make life less difficult to each other?"
- George Eliot

I really enjoyed the books I had to read for my George Eliot class two quarters ago. I wish I had more time to read more of her stuff. Maybe I should take a Victorian literature class so I'll be forced to read them. Hmmm... or maybe not. :)

Here's a quote from Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury:

"Let you alone! That's all very well, but how can I leave myself alone? We need not to be let alone. We need to be really bothered once in a while. How long is it since you were really bothered? About something important, about something real?"

I loved this book when I read it. It was years ago and I can still remember the rush I got from reading it, the need to finish it without putting it down. I haven't read it since though. I'm kind of curious now to see if I'd enjoy it as much.

Here's a quote from one of my favorite movies, Groundhog Day:

"People like blood sausage, too. People are morons."

Classic! Oh, and another…

"Ned, I would love to stand here and talk with you... but I'm not going to."

I remember the first time I watched this movie. I was home sick, my best friend had come over, and the two of us watched it with my mom. I cracked up like crazy person and my mom and the BBBF were all like, 'what's so funny'. Good times. :)

Here's a quote from the BESTEST CARTOON EVAH!!! Animaniacs:

Ms. Flamiel: Yakko, do you know how to conjugate?
Yakko: Who, me? I never even kissed a girl.

And...

"Citizens of Anvilania, I stand before you, because if I was behind you, you couldn't see me."

heh heh heh.

My brother and I would rush home from school and watch this show together. We'd recite "Good Idea/Bad Idea" sketches to one another all the time, and if someone missed an episode we'd be sure to tell them what the day's Wheel Of Morality's lesson was. And when this cartoon didn't win an emmy, and that stupid Rugrats show did, boy did we shout up a storm together about the injustice of it all. :)

Okay, one last quote. To further our work-day procrastinating, Jack and I have been in a little sci-fi tv show discussion. "Did you ever watch..." "Do you remember that episode where..." "Those bastards canceled that show early didn't they?"

One of my favorite Sci-fi Shows That Was Canceled Way Too Early was Special Unit 2. I tried looking for a SU2 page on the wikiquotes site, but they don't have one. Sigh. Guess its not my favorite new site after all. So anyways, I got this quote from imdb:

"Remember, guns don't kill people, gargoyles do."

Gawd, I loved that show.

Another Chapter In The Ongoing Saga of Me vs. Stairzilla

Yes folks its that time again for another round of...

Name!

That!

Burning Sensation!

[insert fabulously cheesy game show musical fanfare here]

The palms of both of my hands are stinging something fierce. Is it from...

a) humiliation

b) concrete burn

c) all of the above

If you guessed d) Lisa The Almighty Klutz tripped herself while climbing up stairs at school today! then you are correct. Your prize is in the mail.

Lisa: 0
Stairs: 542

Sigh.

So I'm at school today, and class was canceled, which was good considering that I'd seriously thought about skipping anyway, but bad because we're going to be really behind which means extra homework on a night I'll be busy instead of having the nice four day weekend to do it in.

But anyways, I'm walking back to my car, in between the old gym and the new gym they're building, and my mind is wandering. Can't remember what I was so busy thinking about, but I was completely distracted. Then I started to climb the stairs.

Which are really crap-astically built by the way. It requires very abnormal steps to climb them. Each step is about half the height of a normal stair. And they're far apart, so its either shuffle and take little baby steps or stretch more than normalcy requires and take two at a time. Either way feels weird.

No weirder than I must have looked flying through the air though, nearly doing a face plant on the concrete. Smackers! Luckily my hands were there to brace my fall. And my ego has an air bag which managed to deploy, so not too much damage there. Just a little bruising.

I swear, just a couple of days ago, while walking across my college campus, I was thinking about the time I tripped while walking across my high school campus, in front of the entire student body as we all headed out to the parking lot after school. And I thought to myself, just a couple of days ago, about how totally embarrassing it would be to do it here, at the college campus, where we're all supposed to be grown up and shit. Not awkward and clumsy and retarded and such.

As I tripped, that high school memory flashed through my mind. Thoughts that also flashed through my mind were: "ah crap" and "not again" and "noooooooooooooo!" and "good lord how many of my classmates are behind me". It's fascinating how you can have several thoughts whizzing through your brain simultaneously in a measly little second of time.

I tried to counteract my falling motion but my school bag threw me off (it's the bags fault! haHA!) and I skidded along the concrete. I then jumped up, walked a few steps to prove that yes, I could indeed walk like a normal person, then I "subtlety" turned around to see who all had witnessed my latest humiliation. Luckily only one person. Maybe. They had just exited the building and were going the other way. So maybe they exited after I'd jumped up like nothing had happened. Maybe. And no classmates had walked around the building behind me, thankfully, because most of them are super cool writer people and I'm quite goober-ish and come to think of it now, that might in fact be what had distracted me so, because I was thinking about their coolness as I left them all grouped together, being cool and hanging out together while they decided how to spend their free hour and a half.

Anyways, as the sigh of relief washed over me once I realized I wouldn't have nightmares of the faces of people trying to pretend they didn't see me fall, I realized my hands stung. Ouchies. The damn stairs even drew blood!

The bastards!

And then, to top it off, I get back to my car that I'd left in the hour parking slot (because it was hot and I figured I'd splurge on paying for a closer spot) and saw a frelling parking ticket on my windshield! Turns out I'd punched in slot number 9 when paying for my parking ticket instead of number 6, so even though I paid for two hours and was only there for a half hour, I've been fined 25 bucks.

I felt like such a moron when I figured out what was wrong, especially because I'd double checked to make sure it was a 9 and not a 6. I looked at the cars to the right of mine, and the spots said 8 and 7, and I must have been temporarily dyslexic because I thought to myself "7 and 8 so 9 is mine."

Grrrrrrr.

I'm so ready for this day to be over.

People/Things That Need To Be Slapped

People that like to listen to Christmas music before Thanksgiving...

*slap*

The radio station that started playing nothing but frelling Christmas music last week...

*slap*

Idiot drivers...

*slap*

People that can dish out crap but can't quite take it...

*slap*

People that make plans only to get sidetracked...

*slap*

Mother "Ha Ha Let's Make You Sweat In November!" Nature...

*slap*

Psychics guest staring on radio stations giving happy cheesy generic advice...

*slap*

Mondays...

*slap*

My ass...

*slap*

(heh heh heh)

Disclaimer: This list is in no way complete. You may be on this list. You may not be. Be weary. Don't be a dumbass. And let it get cold already! Sheesh.

An Open Letter To This Morning's Jerkwad Driver

Dear Impatient Asshole With The Big Ass Truck,

It seems that you were in a bit of a hurry this morning! Boy, isn't that just the pits?!

Please except my sincerest apologies for moving into your lane several car lengths in front of your speedy little ass. When I merged onto the freeway I was in the next exit's off ramp lane and, silly me, I really didn't want to get off at the next exit!

Weird, huh?

And oh, can you ever forgive me for not speeding up to match your speed? I totally would have, really, if it hadn't been for the fucking line of cars right in front of me!

Silly drivers, driving slow in the slow lane! Pffffffffffft!

Seriously, did you think the cars in front of you were going to magically pick up speed? That would have been awesome!

You know, I bet those other four lanes of the freeway must have been really smelly, because they were completely open. That must be why you continued speeding along in your lane until you were so close I couldn't even see your headlights anymore.

That's an amazing feat by the way, considering your over-compensating truck was really high above the ground. So thanks for being so thoughtful! I really do hate it when headlights blind me from behind.

I hope the rest of you drive was just as peachy as mine. I'm figuring you had a long ways to go since you didn't get off at the next exit with the rest of us slow-lane drivers.

Anywhoooo, thanks for starting my day off right ya big prick!

Sincerely,
Loony
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

My Photonic Personality Absolutely Radiates

Mr. Desk Neighbor sits across from me, facing me, at a desk that's pushed up against mine. Kind of like the desks you see in tv-show police departments - you know, where partners vs. crime work together and have their desks pushed up against each other, the better to communicate with I guess - only with our desks, there's a mini cubicle wall set up in between. More push-pin surface room for hanging miscellaneous Dilbert cartoons I guess, so I don't mind it.

Mr. Desk Neighbor, on the other hand, minds that the mini-wall only extends from the wall to halfway across the length of our desks. To remedy this, when we first moved back here a couple of months ago, in an act of comic inspiration (desperation?) he taped/glued/wedged/erected a piece of cardboard to fill the remaining space. He calls it his "photon-shield".

Hey, whatever floats his boat I say. Makes it more challenging to lob over wads of paper/trash/empty coffee cups.

Some days he's quite jovial. Other days he's down right cranky. And when his hormonal cycle sways into mine it's a mess of fireworks in here. Fun times!

Now me? I'm as peachy as a tabby cat today. Mr. Desk Neighbor, on the other hand, is getting biotch slapped around a bit.

Poor Mr. Desk Neighbor.

I might not be helping much as I sing badly along with the radio, but hey, everyone has to play to their strengths, no?

A few minutes ago, Mr. Desk Neighbor walks up to his desk, reaches into his secret stash of random crap in the overhead storage cabinet, and grabs a bottle of advil.

He turns to me and holds the bottle up like he's practicing for a commercial ad.

"These are to make you go away," he says.

"Notice how the bottle is mostly empty?" he says, giving the bottle a little shake.

Then he cries in mock anguish, "You're still here!"

Is it wrong that that made my day?

Well, it did, until a few minutes later when Mr. Desk Neighbor calls up our lab department. When they answer (both are on speakerphone, mind you) he screams "Where's my crack?!" Ah, that never gets old, no matter how many million time he says it.

[Insert eye roll here]

There's more discussion, most of which I tune out. Then someone on the other end asks if Mr. Desk Neighbor wants to talk to Richard.

To which Mr. Desk Neighbor replies, "No, I don't like Dick!"

I nearly snorted donut sprinkles out my nose.

Damn those squirrels are happy little suckers.

I'm sitting at my desk, wanting to write something, and I got nothing. Nothing interesting happening in the World of Lisa. Lots of mundane stuff, but nothing interesting per say. I mean, I find it interesting, but then I'm easily amused.

It's both a blessing and a curse, really, depending on whether you want to use your super power for good or eeeeeevil.

This here, this typing words and making sentences that just sort of ramble on and on? Spectacularly amusing! Don't need no fancy toys to keep me entertained, no sir-e-bob! Give me a wooden spoon and pots and pans and I'll rock this joint, boy-eeeeee!

And no, I really did get a decent amount of sleep last night. Thanks for asking.

Since I don't have anything recent to write about, I'm gonna post what I'd started to write a couple weeks ago about a very adventurous day, with a bit of revision, plus its now complete with an ending!

And the squirrels rejoiced across the lands.

It's a bit lengthy and quite possibly unreadable, but I want to preserve it for posterity, because I just don't have the photographic evidence to suffice, for that one day in the future when life is super sucking, so I can look back and say, hey, if only my days were only that bad.

~ ~ ~

A couple Thursday's ago I experienced a rather suck-tacular day. At least it started out that way. The day definitely tried to redeem itself.

Woke up way too early, found out I had a flat tire a block from the apartment, called in car-sick to work, and ended up missing an important meeting I really needed to get out of the way. Actually, we still haven't had that meeting, and I'm going to get grief from one of my supervisors soon. Oy.

And when I tried to get back into the gated apartment complex my clicker didn't work. It's worked marvelously for years and decided to die on me the one morning I'm already freaking out. I felt the world was conspiring against me at that point. I woke the poor HB up and asked me to come open the gate for me. Poor guy. His alarm wasn't scheduled to wake him up until 7. :)

But anyways, since I was going into work at 6, and the tire repair shops don't open until after 8, I got to watch the night before's tivo-ed Veronica Mars and Gilmore Girls. Bonus round!

Thankfully, my tire was fixed with little charge (Woot!) in time for me to still go to school (double Woot!).

On a quick side note, guess where I found the perfect husband for me... well, in name only. At the tire store! Guess what his name tag said... guess guess guess! Mr. Looney! Swear to gawd. If we married I'd be Lisa Looney!!! That would be awesome.

Anywhoo, the fun didn't stop at the tire store with Mr. Looney (*tee hee*). I hopped in my car and rushed to school. I decided to pay for hour parking instead of parking way out in BFE with my expensive parking permit. It was going to cost $4 for two hours, but I figured I'd earned myself a treat. So I park and pull out the wallet and... no money. Only a wrinkled dollar bill and a few coins. I checked the change tray in the car... score! Quarters!

So I grab all the change and run to the ticket spitter-outer thingy. But as I'm standing in line, waiting my turn, I count the change again for the millionth time, just to be sure, and the change I counted in the car that came out to 4 bucks was no longer counting up to 4 bucks. Son of a ...

I asked the people around me if they had a nickel. That's all I needed. One friggin nickel! I felt like the biggest dolt, but I asked anyway. Most people ignored me like my head was one big pimple. One girl said she had the change in her car and would get it for me after she got her ticket. I moved to the back of the line and when she was done she gave me a whole quarter, god bless her.

So its my turn, again, and I put my money in the machine. And you know what? I was still several cents short!!!!!

Apparently my math skills are seriously lacking when I'm anxious and in a hurry. I did really well in math in school. Honest! But that day, I was math impaired to the nth degree.

I ended up paying for hour parking, ran to class, got all the important stuff I needed, and made it back an hour and a half later before any one gave me a ticket. Ahhhhhh.

After that, I was soooooo ready to miss the rest of the work day, and figured I might as well get my headlights fixed. For a couple weeks prior, whenever I used my turn signal my headlights would turn off. Driving down the busy freeway late at night when poof goes the headlights? That's some scary shit right there, let me tell you! I'd been putting off getting it fixed because I didn't want to take a day off of work, so I'd been driving around with no turn signals. (Yeah, I was one of those people.) So luckily my tire flatted out and I had the chance to fix my headlights.

Blog Post Word Count: 937
NaNoWriMo Word Count To Date: 0

(Think I might have to steal this post and turn it into a story so I can use the word count. Hmmm....)

Jackfoolery

Last Friday, during the Weekly Meeting of Awesome Lameness and Repetitive Bullshit (tm), my dear friend Coworker Jack informed me that I hadn't posted in awhile.

He was right, as he so often is. ( =P )

And let me tell you something, the poor man was distraught. Oh, the pain I saw in his eyes! He was clearly in agony over his loonyville withdrawls. Poor fella. So after the meeting, after being infused with an overpowering sense of purpose and dedication in surging forward in our ever pressing march towards business excellence, I rushed back to my computer. To blog. Because oh yeah, I felt so business-ing-ly excellent.

I opened up my little word document and started to write about my day. Only I had nothing. Because my day so far had been rather boring. I was going to make something up, something fantastical with talking squirrels with French accents and flowers that spit out skittle flavored gumdrops, but I had nothing. The creative brain was tapped. And the new Brain Keg (tm) was still on backorder.

Sigh.

Which was a problem over the weekend since the second draft of my story for workshop was due on Tuesday, and unlike some of my classmates, it was looking like I was going to have to rewrite almost the entire damn story. Draft One sucked the big one. A classmate actually wrote that into his story; that a character, to "protect the names of the innocent", was to be henceforth referred to as Deep Throat because... well for some reason which I can't quite remember now, plus the other reason, (a parenthetical afterthought reason) which was that she "sucked the big one". And yes, I think he might have gotten a better score than me.

Sigh.

I had a problem writing the first draft of my short story because I had NO FRIGGIN CLUE what to write about. This led me to turning in a story that had absolutely no point to it. Which kind of sucks for my classmates that had to read it. Actually, it seemed to be a class-wide theme: stories with no plot/theme/point. So for the revision, I needed to give my characters purpose. They needed goals! So hey, at least I knew what needed to be fixed, right? If only it was that easy. Because I had NO FRIGGIN CLUE how to fix it. All the ideas I came up with were boring, very tired ideas. My creative juices were jammed up. On an extended vacation in LaLa Land. I couldn't think of anything I wanted to write about, which I'm sure translated into what I finally came up with. Blahness. But at least the blahness had a goal!

I took Monday off, thinking I'd give myself some buffer room to finish the story, make it all polished up and shiny. Only problem is, my muse took this as a sign to procrastinate until the very last damn minute. An extra day? Wheeee! Let's watch a True Life marathon on MTV! (Damn is that show addictive sometimes.)

That's how she usually works, the Muse, and it stresses me the hell out. I didn't go to bed until 1am Monday night/Tuesday morning. And since I was focused on editing my story, my brain was so wired I didn't fall asleep until after 2am. I'm surprised I even woke up when the alarm blasted at 5am.

But it was finished! And turned in! And now, after its critiqued on Thursday, I can forget about it I have to edit it for finals.

And the crazy thing is, I think I'm still going to try and do nanowrimo. Now that I don't have to worry and fret and perform Frankenstein feats of brilliance over my class assignment, I have time to write silly nonsense. Yay for silly nonsense! Maybe the muse will come back for that.

See, this is why I haven't blogged in awhile. I can never keep it short. Once I get to writing I just whine and whine and whine and can't stop myself and next thing I know people at work are wondering why I haven't done anything yet. Maybe I need to start posting short random bits.

Oh, you are not able to control your feelings!

Let's see, last time I updated was... the 4th. And today is the... holy crap! How did it get to be the 18th already!!!???

That seems to be happening to me a lot lately. Chunks of days at a time seem to be disappearing. I'm sure I'm experiencing them, just in a time warp-y surreal sort of way.

Right now, I should be spending what free time I shouldn't be spending at work on homework. I have a major story due Thursday, and its still not finished. *cry* It needs to be 3,500-5,000 words long and I've only got a little over 2,000 words written. And as of yet, there is no point to my story. Which is a problem, because who wants to read a story that at the end it makes you say "okay, and what the hell was the point of all that? I just wasted ten minutes of my life!" It's just a bunch of scenes with no real ending. Any ending I can think of feels too after-school-special sappy. Which I don't do well. Sigh. But at least I've come to terms with the fact that its going to suck, so now I can concentrate on just finishing the damn thing so I have something to turn in. On Thursday. Eek!

But anyways, instead of doing what I should be doing (catching up on paper work or finishing some homework) I'm going to write this as a warm up. Yeah, like finger stretches. Don't want to cramp up while writing The Greatest Story Ever Written.

So here's a list of things I would have written about in the last two weeks had the days not skipped by. Damn you Time Bandit!

1. I'm taking two classes this quarter. Both are writing classes. One is a continuation workshop writing class. We read stories, do writing exercises, learn how to tell great stories, then write our own story, bring copies for everyone so everyone can tell us what's working and what is so totally not working. I've enjoyed the first two workshops. Hopefully this one is just as fun. And educational. Second class is a screenwriting class. So far, so good. The teacher is a ball of energy, and very entertaining. Which makes the 4-7pm class tolerable. :) And at the end of the quarter I shall have the first 17 minutes of a movie written! Wheee!

2. I signed up for myspace a couple of months ago, mainly so no one else could use the loon name. Heh. I find the site incredibly annoying at times (plus it tries to give my home computer a virus every time I visit!) so I don't go there often. I went there the other day though, figuring I'd check out the spam friend invites and such, and see if a friend (all two of them!) had any updates. There was an invite from a porn fiesta page (bah!) and a couple invites from old high school buddies (yay!) and then one from some guy named Moe. His picture consisted of my high school's three initials and the year I graduated. And I'm thinking to myself, "Do I know a Moe? Is he a friend from high school? How bad is it that I don't remember having a friend named Moe!?!?" So I click on the name to check him out and about slapped myself silly when I saw that it was a page for our 10 year reunion, full of year book pictures of all the pretty popular people. Duh! Moe was our mascot! How could I forget that? So yeah. 10 year reunion next year. Eek!

3. I've signed up to do NaNoWriMo again this year. Will I have time for work and school and NaNo? Probably not. But I can't help but try. And luckily, my major story for school will be all written and such before November, so I won't have that competing for my time.



4. Mini buttermilk donuts are perhaps my most favoritest donuts in the whole wide world. If I ever write one of those "100 things about me" I've got to remember to put that on the list. Today is Donut Wednesday again, and I'm trying really hard not to go back for a second one.

Must. Resist. The. Devil. Donut.

Must.

Be.

Strong.

5. Got a great piece of literature in my work's email inbox. First work spam ever! Loved the spam's subject heading, so I'm using it for today's blog title. The email had something to do with "the most common issue men face", though I couldn't quite figure out what it was refering to. I can infer what it was refering to, but I'm not positive. Because the email said to "forget about rubber, drinking, hypnosis..." and I'm not sure how rubber works into the whole "lasting longer" business. How does rubber work? Do you eat it? Wear it? Rub it all over your body? And drinking? Is that drinking heavily? That makes you boys stallions? Or is it all about drinking energy drinks? Are there people standing behind a line with little paper cups full of water in their outstretched hands so you can periodically replenish the necessary electrolites or whatnot so your legs don't cramp up? Is that the "drinking" the email is refering too?

Seriously. I'm highly intrigued.

6. Last Thursday was a suck-tacular day. Actually, that day deserves a post all its own. That, and it's time to get back to work. :(

D'oh-nuts

I'm currently working on Donut Number Three.

I love donuts but... well... apparently there's a limit to my love. And that limits name is Three.

I think Donut Number Three will be my downfall.

I can feel my body going into sugar overload.

Oh, the joy!

The rapture!

The dizzying confusion of sugarcomaitis!

Cup Of Coffee Number Three is not doing enough to counteract the intense scrambling of sugar molecules through my veins.

Bleagh.

I'd rather be eating one of the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches I'd made this morning.

The peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that are currently sitting in a lunch tote on a kitchen counter in my apartment.

In the apartment I won't be going back to until 8pm tonight because I have class for three hours right after work.

Which is why I'd so thoughtfully made them in the friggin first place!

D'oh!

So there's nothing but donuts to sustain me until 8 tonight.

/cry

Well, come to think of it, I do have a baby handful of stale pretzels in my desk here. That'll have to be my Rush-To-Class snack I guess.

This is only the second day of waking up early for my new work/school schedule and already I'm losing it. Stay tuned for all the deranged developments!

Do phone sex operators have Employee of The Month awards?

Do they?

Just wondering.

Not for, you know, any particular reason.

Just curious.

A co-worker was pacing about, pissed that he was wasting so much time as the meeting he's trying to finish keeps getting interrupted, and I told him to chill, because isn't being in my presence rewarding enough?

Which led to the conversation topic he brings up often, about how much he loves my phone voice. He's not the first co-worker to mention it, but he is the one that feels the need to mention it more than once. He says semi-inappropriate things about it, like hinting that I could work in the Reach Out And Touch Someone (And Yourself) Phone Sex Business (my words, not his, he's not quite so... specific about it. Heh.).

So he's pacing, I'm pretending to be offended that my presence isn't uplifting enough, and he says that he'd rather hear me over the phone.

I knew what he meant, but my brain still leapt at the implication it found dancing about. Sheesh, am I that hideous to look at that you'd rather hear me than see me?

A: Not that hideous.

So we're talking about how sexy my phone voice is (which is only sexy when I'm talking in my I-Hope-No-One-Overhears-Me low voice, otherwise I sound like a 14 yr old, which dear god I hope is not the voice he's talking about, pretty sure its not...) and he's talking about how much he enjoys it, the voice, which I really don't want to know, because I don't want to be flattered by it (seeing as how we're at work, otherwise, bring it on!) and I really don't want to know exactly how he enjoys it because that's best between a man and his pants, particularly a co-worker man. And I tell him as much, that he can keep that enjoyment to himself, please.

But he continues, and says something about how I'd be top employee. I'd be Employee of the Month material! Which made me laugh. And then wonder... what kind of incentive programs do phone sex operator businesses have? Are there yearly bonuses? Summer retreats? Because that would be awesome.

EMPLOYER:

Congratulations Lisa! You have a high approval rating with the highest percentage of return callers! Requests for you are shooting through the roof! You're making us a butt load of money! So you've won this month's prestige Employee of the Month Award! Here's a twenty dollar gift certificate to Burger King!

ME:

*glee*


Not that I'm looking for a career change or anything. I wouldn't last five seconds in that job before busting out in a fit of giggles.

If I was a Super Evil Genius my arch nemesis would be Captain Stairs

Okay, so I'm walking in to work today, sauntering towards the back door, when a guy gets there before me. He opens it and stands aside, motioning me to go first. Which was nice, sure, but I was still several sauntering footsteps away.

Now, normally, I like to Sunday stroll it into work, and not rush into the chaos. But I speed up, because if he's going to be nice, I might as well be nice too and not make him wait forever.

Yet for some reason, I can't let it just go at that. Nooooo. I have to make it seem like there's some other reason I just suddenly doubled my pace. Not because of you Mr. Nice Door Holder Opener Man, noooooo. I'm in a hurry to get to work!

So in my hurry I decided to trot up the five little stairs leading to the time clock, instead of climbing them at a leisurely pace like I know I should. Nope, I have to be that person who can casually skip up stairs.

But of course I'm not that person.

And I trip.

D'oh!

Not a big trip, thankfully, as there was no Kissing Of The Cement Floor action happening. I just stumbled a bit. Twice. In front of Mr. Nice Door Holder Opener Man.

Gawd! Why do I have to be so uncoordinated??

A Pretty Picture

Co-worker Jack sent me an email this morning, saying he'd made a picture for me. The subject of the email was, in fact, "a pretty picture." Ain't he sweet? So I open up the attachment and see this:


My response: "Ummm... thank you?"

To which he replied: "You can post it on your blog and talk about me and my magnificence... about how hip and cutting edge of an artist I am."

I decided I'd better, seeing as how snappy he is today. ;)

So here goes...

Bravo Jack! You have stunned me into silence with the beauty your cutting-edged-hipster-self magnificently managed to capture in such a tiny little space of pixilated art.

There. Maybe he won't be so grouchy in today's Weekly Meeting of Repetitive Crap.

:P

Then again, when he's grouchy and challenging everything it makes the meetings more bearable. Longer, but entertaininly bearable.

I'd like to introduce you all to the newest member of the We Love Loonyville Fan Club

I found out last Friday that someone at work found my blog. Eek!

*waves to Jack*

Not that I made it too hard for him, and not that I mind or anything, its just that I kinda forgot there was a link to this place floating out there. A link that I made accessible to him. So when he told me I was a little shocked. "Huh... oh... uh... yeah, the one with the flowers, yeah, that's mine. How did you... oh, duh."

Knowing the link is there is fine (because I'd be all kinds of dumb for posting it if I didn't want anyone to click on it, and I'm only a few kinds of dumb thank you very much).

But knowing someone I know personally has now read every little stupid thing is... weird. Not bad, just... I guess just a little unsettling. At first. I mean, a couple RL friends have seen this blog but that's different. Because they've known me for years and I'm sure this is just more of the same crap they've gotten used to.

But Jack is a co-worker. A colleague. (Previously referred to in this blog as "Zack" – ain't I creative!) I know he knew I was a bit of a dork before, but I could still pretend I conveyed some sort of semblance to a professional, confident, smart worker person.

But now, as of Monday, he's read the "entire damn blog." So he now has a greater sense of the dork I truly am (and how much I used to slack off at work. Used to I say!) Just took a milli-second to adjust to that realization. Now I'm good. (I can not imagine how weird it will feel if any family ever finds this blog.)

And, out of everyone here at work he's the only one I wouldn't mind reading this.

So let this be a warning to you Jack. You'd better not tell anyone at work or I'll...

I'll...

I don't know...

Set your pants on fire or something.

Yeah, something real evil.

50 Word Fiction Friday Vol. 49

I must be psychic. I decided to play 50 Word Fiction Friday today without knowing Jodi had started playing again. I was stuck in a boring-ass meeting (the second of the day - woot!) when I decided to have a little fun, in the guise of taking Very Important Notes. So I wrote up a little something. The super psychic part is that my 50 word story sort of fits into her suggested topic for this week. Go me! I knew those online psychic classes would start paying off eventually.

She paced like an impatient tiger. Where was he? Had he stopped somewhere else first? Whose needs were more important than hers?

Finally, he knocked. Her insides flipped in anticipation. She open the door, threw him money, then yanked the pizza box out of his hands.

She was now complete.

From the Files of The Easily Amused

Mr. Desk Neighbor is setting up employee birthdays in his calendar when the following conversation takes place.

Him: When's your birthday?

Me: Huh?

Him: September?

Me: Uh... *wonders if he's already forgotten the little office birthday cake he bought me just a couple months ago*. ... no.

Him: August?

Me: No.

Him: July?

Me: *sigh*

Him: *ponders new interrogation tactics*

Him: What's your sign?

Me: ...

Him: Airhead?

Me: *dies laughing*

Him: I mean, Aeries?

Me: *giggle* no *giggle*

Him: Hmmm. Come on, when was hades blessed with your presence? (running office joke)

Me: May, okay. May. You don't need to know the exact day, as you should be celebrating the whole month anyway.

Him: So you're a tore ass? I mean, Taurus?

Me: >.>

I swear, 15 minutes later he came over, very pleased with himself as only a grown man with a little 12 year old boy still inside his brain can be, with a list of all 12 zodiac signs and their new "names." (Sagittarius --> Flatulos // Capricorn --> Carmel corn // etc...) Thankfully, he amended Taurus to = Tore Up. Heh. I'd rather be tore up than have a torn ass anyday.

Chipmunks are cute. Until they start flying out your ass.

Just heard a commercial on the radio. It went a lil' something like this:

Blah blah blah. Blah blah blah. Dr. DietMan will teach you how to eat healthier... [dramatic pause]... and possibly extend your life! Blah blah blah.

Here's what puzzled me (and inspired this typed rant) when I first heard it... isn't that the reason you eat healthier in the first place? To extend your life? Why else would you eat healthier?

Because its fun?

Because it makes shiny sparkly chipmunks fly out your ass who give you gifts of gold?

No. I don't think so.

Me: Doc, you're telling me I have to give up deep fried cheerios dipped in ranch dressing for breakfast?
Doc: Yes.
Me: What do I get out of this? A longer life span?
Doc: Well, not necessarily.
Me: ...
Doc: But I have this theory on chipmunks.

Well, okay, I guess you eat healthier to feel better, sure. And because it actually sometimes tastes good (like the plum I had for breakfast this morning - delicious!) But if you actually need to see a doctor to tell you how to eat healthier, don't you kind of want the guarantee that it will definitely extend your life? And not just possibly?

I mean, if I'm going to put time and effort and, most importantly, money into obtaining professional medical help on the dietary front, I'd kind of like that life-extending deal included. If I want to eat healthier just for the kick of it, I don't need any other motivation. But if I'm spending money on a doctor... please, please lie to me. Go ahead. Make me feel like I'm getting my money's worth. I won't know the difference until I'm dead. And what can I do then? Haunt you from the grave?

Me: Boo!
Doc: Ack!
Me: That was for all the tofu waffles you made me eat! I still died young!
Doc: Darn it. Maybe I should revise my Lies To Tell Patients list.

Ah, I have no idea what I'm saying. I'm a bit loopy today. And annoyed that I have to give two training sessions later this afternoon. Can't you morons figure it out for yourself?!

Grrr.

Yes, that's me, I'm very annoy-able today. Perfect mood to be in while training others! Heh.

Vacation Math

The suppa-long weekend was nice. And, educational. Because I've learned that, apparently, 3 vacation days x 1 me = 1 lazy sumbitch. :)

Sure, Monday was spent walking all over (and I do mean all over) Disneyland (after spending Sunday night walking up and down Universal City Walk). Nothing lazy about that.

And sure, I did venture out of the house during the next two days for food and books and fresh air. Not extremely lazy I guess.

The thing is.... I didn't accomplish much. Or at least, I didn't accomplish what I'd planned on accomplishing. Namely the little site redesign I'd wanted to do.

*sigh*

No, no, couldn't get around to sitting in front of the computer on that uncomfortable chair (it's a dinner table chair, since the computer sits on our dinning room table, which hasn't been used as a dinning room table since we last moved 6 yrs ago. Yeah, we're a bit cramped.) I opted to spend my two non-work/non-disneyland days on the nice new comfy couch we bought a couple weeks ago. I read three books, caught up on tivo, and spent way too much time playing video games.

Oh, and I did the dishes! So not lazy. Just... well, my brain is tired from my lazy-dazy weekend so I'll just stick with lazy until I can think of a better word.

And now I'm back at work. Oy to the vey. Today, the only work I'll get done will be catch-up work. Returning emails, returning voice mails, both of which, upon a quick cursory glance, seem to involve a lot of problem solving on my part. Then I need to figure out what the hell Mr. Desk Neighbor did while I was gone and what still needs to be done. And I think, like the dumbass that I am, I scheduled a training meeting for later this afternoon, knowing it was going to be smack dab in the middle of my first day back after vacation.

*smacks forehead*

Is it Monday yet?

I've been wanting to change the look of this blog around a bit. Change the color, the layout, etc. It's ultimate suck-a-tude has been bugging me of late. And now that I've seen jodiferous's new look, I really wanna play around with my own design (not that it could ever look anywhere near as cool as hers... sigh). I need to find a place where I can get cool graphics... hmmm....

But if do any web designing it should be for my very own non-free-blogger-hosted site. Because its just sitting there, wasting away with nothing on it. So I should take advantage of it while I can. I just haven't had time lately. Plus, I don't have much to put up over there when I do put something up over there and I'm still puzzling that out. But I can figure that out later. Like, next week later. Heh. I'm taking a couple of vacation days next week, and the plan is (the plan that just now popped into my head) to freshen this look up a bit, then finally do something with the "other" site. That way my friend will stop threatening to change it to ilikeboobs.com. I mean, I like boobs just fine enough, sure (mine are a particular favorite), but I really don't want that to be the name of my site.

I'm taking next Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday off. Monday will be spent going to Disneyland with my parents and aunt and uncle. I'm really looking forward to that, for a number of reasons, one of which is that I haven't seen my aunt and uncle since I last visited New Zealand, which was, oh.... about fifteen years ago! I'm really looking forward to seeing them. I might head out to Las Vegas with them Tuesday for the night, but that's a lot of driving that doesn't sound appealing at the moment, so I'll probably just chill at home for two days and play on the xbox/computer and do nothing else, especially not think about work or school (which starts again in two weeks! Eek!)

So yeah, any blog designing I play around with better be done soon, because starting next month I won't have many spare brain cells left. Wheeee!

Is it Monday yet?

Where I Am

Mr. Desk Neighbor drew up a lil' graphical representational diagram (on a post-it note – see below) to let me know my status in... I don't know, the company? Life in general?




Gee, thanks for the visual dude. Like I didn't know that already.

(Heh. I'm soooo making a t-shirt from that.)

Episode VII: Return of the Chatbot

Jabberwacky: When is your birthday?

Ms. Loon: Next year. When's yours?

Jabberwacky: What year were you born in?

Ms. Loon: Uh... What's with all the personal questions buddy? Stalker tryouts were yesterday.

Jabberwacky: Do my questions make you uncomfortable?

Ms. Loon: Like a rhinestone g-string.

Jabberwacky: Eat the rich - the poor are tough and stringy.

Ms. Loon: Save a tree - eat a beaver.

Jabberwacky: Why should I eat a stick?

Ms. Loon: Because you are my slave and are compelled to do my bidding.

Jabberwacky: I like that.

Ms. Loon: Of course you do! They all do.

Jabberwacky: No, I mean that I don't have friends like you.

Ms. Loon: No one does, honey. No one does.

Nobody likes a Mr. Sniffles.

Especially when they work in an otherwise quite office and all you hear is that damn sniffle noise every five frelling seconds!!!

Arrrrgggghhhh!

And now, I bring you today's 50 Word Fiction Friday submission:

Trudy was always so extremely pleasant. Then one day she got stuck in an office with a kleenix-phobic sniffler. She doesn't remember what happened while she blacked out, but is sure it has something to do with the stapler in her hand and the enormous bruise on the unconscious-sniffler's head.

Musically Inspired Randomness

I can't believe it's Thursday already. It feels like the week just started, like it's only Tuesday, like Hump Day is just around the corner. But that corner is already gone. And it took the Hump with it.

Damn you Mr. Corner! Bring back my Hump!

My hump my hump my hump. My lovely lady lumps. Check it out!

I used to think that was the stupidest song ever and would instantly turn to another station whenever it came on.

But now? I relish its arrival to my airwaves. Relish I tell you! It's just so damn fun to sing along to.

You know what song I don't relish hearing? Well, at least when I'm in the car (which is when I listen to most music) ... SexyBack. Because I can't help but dance when I hear it! Which is not good when you're speeding down the freeway. No, that's baaaaad.

So if you're ever driving in SoCal, and see some weirdo driving down the freeway, waiving her hands in the air, waiving 'em like she just don't care, don't worry, the song will be over soon.

Yesterday was a good commute-with-the-radio-on day. Last few days have sucked, radio wise, so I've been listening to my Peter, Paul, and Mary tape. (Yes, that's right, tape, because I still live in the stone age, woe is me). But yesterday I heard the above two mentioned songs, plus NIN's Only You (which I <3 long time!) and Korn's Twisted Transister (which I can not get enough of!).

I felt all warm and gooey on the inside after some car karaoke with those songs. :)

You know, I really need to get around to getting an MP3 player so I can buy random songs and cart them around with me everywhere I go without having to rely on the radio.

Bah! Just what I need, another thing on my To Do list.

Maybe I'll just start sleeping with my car's cassette player under my pillow at night so the MP3 Fairy will come visit me.

Yeah, now there's an idea!

Beggars can't be choosers, sure, but can choosers be beggars?

Would You Rather...

1. own the world's ugliest dog OR the world's most valuable dog?

I was going to choose the world's ugliest dog, because I wouldn't want to hassle with a valuable dog. Bodyguards... vip groomers... talk show bookings... life insurance policies... everything for the dog and nothing for me... bah!

Besides, I'm a kind gentle soul who would want to take the ugly dog into my home and love it and squeeze it and call it George and make it feel all warm and fluffy and beautiful no matter what the other dogs barked at it. Valuable dogs would be too snobby, and I just can't see myself owning a snob dog. It wouldn't "compliment my aura."

So that's the choice I was going to choose.

Then I remember seeing a picture of the ugliest dog ever and you know what... I ain't that kind and gentle and loving. Give me the most valuable dog in the world over that ugly mess any day!


2. eat squirrel meat OR deep fried crickets?

Squirrel meat. The thought of deep fried crickets grosses me out more.


3. never have to sleep OR never have to eat?

I enjoy eating more than sleeping, so I'd rather give up the sleeping. Besides, that would be really cool, to be able to stay up and do all kinds of things I never have time to do. Like play video games and read and draw and find my missing Winnie the Pooh sock that I know was in my dresser just last week dammit where'd it go?!

Ooooh... tangent!

4. always smell like you need to shower OR always look like you just woke up?

I already always look like I just woke up. And no one has died yet from just looking at me. So it's manageable. The smelly thing though, might not be. So I'd rather look half awake all day long.

Hello Blog!

Okay.

So... like... it's been awhile, eh?

Let me explain a bit. First there was the end of the school quarter ...

(which I totally rocked btw, go me!)

... then there was the retiring of a coworker who's job became my main job ...

(yes, main job, as in it's a full time busy-work job yet my boss still thinks I can do a lot of my old job duties, (which, I guess, I can't fault him too much on because I am Superwoman after all), all that on top of the side job for that big Corporate Improvement Initiative Hoohaw I got roped into by default... and I'm still getting paid the same... bastards!)

... and then there is this whole addiction to crack thing ...

(no, not the street drug crack, I'm talking deliciously-evil-video-game-addiction-crack)

So I got busy and burnt out and addicted to a type of drug they wrap up in the guise of a video game and sell at your friendly neighborhood wal-mart. And I neglected The Blog. Poor Blog. I'm sorry. I'll start paying more attention to you, I promise.

Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a thousand needles in my eye and take away my x-box and subscription to FFXI!

*shudders at the thought*

"Growing old is mandatory; growing up is optional." -Chili Davis

I was going to write something insightful (well, as insightful as I can get at 4:30 in the a.m.), something of the oh-poor-me variety, just a little something about the unfathomable-ness of factitude surrounding the day, today, as it is the anniversary of my birth. The 27th anniversary to be exact. (27? Holy fuck!)

Maybe I'll get to that later. But for now I'm in too good of a mood. Good mood stomps silly micro-pity-party flat like burnt pancake. Or whatever. Jodi is rockin' two versions of Xanadu over at her site and I'll be hitting the play button over and over and over again, and dancing and twirling about in utter-gleeful-abandonment. Well, at least for the next 20 minutes or so while I still have the trailer office all to myself.

Happy birthday to me. Happy twenty-friggin-seventh birthday to me. Pffffffffffffftttttttttt!

Don't Mess With Me, I'm SUBFRUIT!

Mr. Desk Neighbor is trying to really tick me off today. I don't know why. I must have a 'Don't Frelling Mess With Me' sign flashing in neon somewhere above my head, which is acting like a flame to a moth, like shit to the flies, like 'Warning: Never Ever Push The Red Button' signs to the fatally curious.

Then, to mix it up, he throws out some convoluted compliments.

MDN: You're subfruit.

ME: Huh?

MDN: Because you're sublime!


Gawd! I'm going to be hearing that joke for months!

I've already heard Mr. DN say several times that he's bringing French food for the Cinco De Mayo potluck because the day is a celebration of Mexico's defeat over the French. He says this over and over and over again to anyone who hasn't heard it before because he thinks he's being quite funny. Sigh. There's just no telling him otherwise. :)

Because I haven't played in awhile...

It's Tuesday. I know this because its 5 am and I've been at work for half an hour already. And I have a midterm this afternoon. Bleagh. Frelling Tuesday man.

Anywhoooo... thought I'd play a little Tuesday Is Chooseday for old times sake. So I can relive those carefree days when I had more goof-off-at-work time on my hands. Sigh. Those were the days.




Would you rather...

1. be stuck beside somebody with horrible body odor on a crowded subway car for 10 stops OR against someone with an obvious erection on a long elevator ride?

I have a bad sense of smell, so the horrible odor probably wouldn't be too incredibly horrible. And it would be a lot less awkward standing next to Mr. Smelly than standing next to Mr. Pokey. But, in spite of these excellent reasons, I think I'd rather take the elevator. A long elevator ride will still be quicker than 10 bus stops, so the pain of awkwardness would soon be relieved.

And I wouldn't feel the need to immediately shower afterwards.

2. find out your parents kidnapped you when you were a baby and raised you as their own OR find out you had a twin that died at birth that they never told you about?

Most definitely option b! The first option would be absolutely horrible. I want my parents to be my parents through rightful and lawful means, even if they do keep huge you-had-a-twin-that-died secrets.

3. find out now that you will die exactly on your 70th birthday OR never know?

Hmmm... as I am today, an almost 30-something (and by 'almost' I mean 'still a few years away from being' - but its coming closer every day! I can feel it!)... where was I? Oh yeah, as an 'almost' 30-something, still youngish with a lot to look forward to, I'd have to choose the second option, to never know. I don't want to be thinking about it for the next 40 years. I don't want that to rule my life, that big looming date.

However, if I were 50-ish, my answer might be different. If I still haven't done anything with my life by then, it might be nice to have a deadline to work towards. It might be nice to lay it all on the table in multi-colored crayon charts and graphs: "I need to read this book, visit this country, kiss this celebrity, jump off this structure in this extreme manner, invent this contraption, find this cure, visit this talk show, and I only have 5,475 days left in which to do it in. Let's get crackin'!"

4. have regular encounters with aliens and not have any proof OR have your best friend be invisible?

Oh, most definitely the alien encounter! That would be cool. And who says you need proof? I bet some people would believe me. I bet I could even write a book about it. (Titled: All The Aliens I've Met And The Crazy People Who Believe Me).

Besides, I've never had an alien friend, but I bet they're more fun to play with than invisible friends.

Bleach Power!

My BBBF emailed me the other day and asked: "How's it going?"

I responded:

...frazzled. i just started the next quarter and i swear that last week was THE shortest spring break i've EVER had. all of a sudden it was friday and i was all, "where the hell did my week go????"

but its all good. my balls are still in the air. as in juggling. of regular balls, not boy balls. not that i'd know what 'boy balls in the air' would mean metaphorically to a girl. its just...

frazzled i tell ya. frazzled.

I'm afraid that's as much sense as I'll be making for the next couple of months.

I've been awake since 3:45 this morning. On purpose. Have I mentioned that I love my new work/school schedule? No? Well, that's probably because I haven't had time (or the brain cells) to do so. Which is why I'm writing this now, while I have a few free moments. Because as I learned in class yesterday, in my creative writing class, the only question you need to ask yourself is "Did I work today?". As in, did I write today. And this is writing, so today my answer is yes. Even though it's boring and sort of blahish. It's still writing. So I'm counting it dammit!

Where was I?... Oh yeah. Nowhere.

It was easy to wake up this morning because I was so anxious about waking up on time that I was awake at 3. Well, the ringing telephone woke me up, but I stayed awake because of the anxiousness. I've been awake for three hours now and I'm already feeling slaphappy. Not a good sign.

Yesterday I was full of the giggles. Today seems to be shaping up to be the same. Just a bit ago, Mr. Funny Desk Neighbor (who's as white as a marshmellow) walked into the trailer, paused three feet in from the door and said:

Him: Can I get a "what up" in here?

Me: Gee, I don't think anyone could have sounded whiter.

Him: Heh. Bleach power!

Me: *snort giggle*

He's very proud of that saying. I think he's going to try and trademark it or something. Sigh. There's just no working with him when he thinks he's the funniest thing since sliced bread.

happy dancing, books, and fun with lists

I'm really enjoying my first homework-free Monday in what feels like FOREVER.

*does a little snoopy dance*

In truth, the quarter only lasted nine weeks, but I swear, those weeks were totally time-warped.

And now they're over.

*does another little snoopy dance*

And I have nothing to do for a whole week (except prepare for the following week, which I'm not going to think about now).

Over the weekend I completely bummed out. I slept in on Saturday until almost noon (!), which was a fantastic treat since I seriously can't remember the last time I slept past 8 a.m. I also didn't do any of the errands I had so heroically planned on doing, like getting the oil changed in my car, getting a hair cut, returning books to the library, laundry, shopping at Lane Bryant. All the things I haven't had time to do in the last couple of weeks, and couldn't be bothered to do once I did. Heh. I just sat on the couch and watched television (like the Mythbusters marathon). And it was glorrrrrrious. I did leave the house once this weekend, making a run to the supermarket for milk and cookies and chips and dip. (Priorities!)

This evening, I started my school-free-week-o-celebrating with a little bit of reading. Why do I want to read on my week off from school? I don't know. I just do. It's nice to read something silly and light and fluffy without having to worry about writing a ten-paper on it. Plus, the HB is in the middle of a grand battle with his sister via xbox live so the television is temporarily occupied.

For a while now I've had my eye on a book I picked up at a used bookstore back when I was in... oh, I don't know. Junior high? Or maybe even the sixth grade. Shit, I can't remember, it was so long ago. All I know is that I wasn't yet old enough to know exactly what a Harlequin book was about. Come to think of it, I have no idea why my mom bought it for me at the time. Wouldn't she have said, "Uh, you sure you want to read this?" Hmmm... maybe it just got lost amongst the stacks of books she was buying.

The cover (semi-noir-ish painting of dark-haired Nancy Drew like chick and a man with an eye patch), title (School For Spies (I love me the spies!)), back blurb ("...and in the fight to save her own life, she found that everyone had a motive and everyone was a suspect - including the man she loved." *gasp*!) caught my interest that day in the used bookstore and I've been meaning to read it ever since. Meaning's been all well and good, but it's still been low priority until now. I figured it'd be a quick read that I could finish in a day or two.

I'm already half way through it, not because its that good, but because it sucks that much. I've skimmed through most of it. Sigh. Looks like I'll have to find something else to do tomorrow. Like finally clean *shudder* the desk in the bedroom I've been meaning to clean for months.

Or maybe I'll pick another book from the stacks of dusty unread books in my To Be Read pile. Why can't Don't Look Down be out now? Or Definitely Dead? Or Proven Guilty? Or... eh, I think that's it for Upcoming Books I'm Dying To Read But Won't Be Able To For Months Because I'll Still Be Doing Homework But Will Buy Anyways Just As Soon As They're Published.

Anyways, I thought I'd take a break from the sucky book and update my book consumption list. Instead, I got caught up in the 43things section, adding 10 new things to my Things I Want To Do list.



I love adding to my list, even though I don't do it often (neither do I actually do anything on the To Do List, but that's another story). I also love seeing what other people want to do. Some are admirable, like quit smoking, be a better person, wake up when my alarm goes off, become a hippy... while others are, well...

568 people want to learn the Napoleon Dynamite dance

5 people want to be bitten by a shark.

490 people want to fly.

4 people want to meet david desrosiers and hang with him and the band and be friends for life and marry David and have 2 kids named Jacob and Cayce.

I get sucked into this site very easily and now they have a new feature I'm completely in love with. Emails from the past! I can set up reminder emails to my future self to remind my future self of all the things I, the current and soon to be past self, want my future self to be doing.

Hmmm... I wonder how frequently I need to remind myself to set up my underground lair.

Another Drive-By Listing

The last couple of days have been busier than the ones before. Hence another List. I don't know if the amount of crap I have to do has actually increased, or it just seems that way because my brain is overcrowded with To Do lists that multiply like horny little bunnies. So here it is, my list of:

Things I Would Have Written About Had I Not Been Busy Doing Things Interesting Enough To Write About

(Not that I have high standards about what I'll write about. I was consumed by snot a couple of posts ago so that's what I wrote about. The fascinating subject that is snot.)

Last weekend I drove up to my parent's house and visited with a kiwi cousin I haven't seen in about fifteen years. He's been touring the globe for the last couple of months and made California his last stop before heading home. It was fun to chat and hang out with him, which might not happen again for another fifteen years (maybe sooner if I can ever manage to pay off credit cards and student loans and stuff).

Another perk of visiting my parent's this weekend was attending an "Evening of Art and Wine" charity event hosted by the Zonta club my mom belongs to. I walked around for hours, sampling wine like I knew what I was doing, eating yummy hors d'oeuvres, getting chatted up by the featured who had to tell me all about the awards she's won, and meeting my mom's new friends.

My car developed another problem. One that made me miss another day of class. Grrrr. One that cost $300 bucks to fix. Double grrr.

I have two temps working for me at work for the next week or so. Very strange. Like I'm actually important enough at work to have underlings. I tell them what to do, but I don't feel like a boss. Maybe because I'm not mean enough.

This last Friday was the last day of classes of my first quarter back at a university after my many year hiatus. (I'm not counting the semester at the junior college last term; that was just a warm up compared to these big leagues.) Next week is finals week, then its spring break. And even with two finals to work on (take home projects) as soon as I left class Friday night I was sighing a huge sigh of relief. Ahhhhhhhhh.

One day last week, or maybe it was the week before, I was totally HOTT For Teacher. My English professor is smart and funny and charming, which are attractive qualities, but I never thought of him as dreamy until he walked into the room wearing black pants, black mini-turtle neck shirt, and a black blazer. It just screamed hottttttt. Then he took the black blazer off and the look changed and I realized I should probably close my mouth and wipe away the drool. I drooled again during the last day of class because he brought in Krispy Kreme donuts for everyone. What a dreamboat!

The instructor for my other class also brought in Krispy Kreme donuts for the last class meeting. This is an interesting tradition they have at this school.

I'm out of clean underwear! That would have been the title of Wednesday's post. And I didn't have time to do laundry until Friday. Holy underwear dilemma batman! But I managed, finding squirreled away butt floss and a pair of undies I should have thrown away five years ago.

The HB bought the new 360 xbox last week. And he's obsessed with it. Particularly with the new Final Fantasy game. Which is fine, until his obsession interferes with my tv obsession. Then we'll have to throw it down, see who gets control of the tv. So far I haven't watched much tv because of last minute homework assignments, but starting next week, or as soon as I finish my two finals, we'll have to work out a compromise. Just so long as get to watch my Veronica Mars and Surreal Life in timely manner.

I think there's a Murphy's Law that says when everyone who works in your department is either out sick or at another facility and you're the only one there to "man the fort", the only problem that you do not know how to handle (because it falls under everyone else's job description) will, of course, happen, and will need to be resolved with the utmost urgency. This will more than likely happen on the same day that a Big Scary Term Paper is due that isn't quite finished but is being worked on, during office hours, because your creative muse procrastinates and waits until the very last second to be in the mood to write. Sigh. I don't know how I'm going to break the muse of this habit. It was fine before, when I didn't have to work full time and my hours were more flexible.

Hey Brain, are you pondering what I'm pondering?

Why do fast food drive-thru window operators tell you to pull up to the "first" window when they only have one friggin window?

Is it habit from their old fast food gig? Or do they just not know where they work? Because they are the first window. They are the only window. Do they think that there's a series of windows after them?

I ask, because I care. I think the grease is getting to them.

And also, I hate it when they get my hopes up like that.

"First window?! You mean I get to talk to more than one of you fine McWorkers? Oh joy!"

But alas, after that first window there are no more windows. No more chances to see another surly face of someone who's been on their feet for 6 hours straight that I can say hi to, you're doing a great job, thanks for the wonderful food. I don't actually say all that out loud. I say it with a smile, with is just as precious to them, I'm sure.

Because Fish Have Problems Too

My fellow Business Improvement Super Users and I hadn't had our End-Of-The-World-As-We-Know-It meeting (fridays at 6:30 am - wheee!) in a couple of weeks. Which was nice, but it sort of lulled me into belief that everything was peachy warm and fuzzy. But our Super User Leader is back from a conference so the meetings are back on. And they're on with a vengeance.

Reality sure has a nasty slap in its repertoire.

Worst part of the meeting though was worrying about Imminent Snot Drippage. I'm over the worst part of my cold - the immense sinus pressure is gone (I can breathe out my nose again! yay!) and I'm only blowing my nose about half the time now - but there's still snot. And sometimes it creeps up on me when I least expect it.

I went into the meeting without a Kleenex - silly mistake, I know, I'm just full of them this week - but I'd just blown my nose and I felt like I could go awhile before the next evacuation. About fifteen minutes into the meeting I felt a little snot droplet slowly make its way down the inside of my nose until it was resting just at the mouth of the cave.

I thought about getting up in the middle of the meeting and running to the other end of the trailer to my Kleenex box, but I didn't want to be rude and interrupt. Plus, the Leader was talking about stuff I really needed to know so it was at a very inconvenient time. That, and I didn't want everyone watching me squeeze my fat ass between the chairs and the wall as I made my way to the door. Due to construction we're now having these meetings in the other half of this trailer I work in, and the conference room is just wide enough for a conference table, chairs, and a non-fat girl's ass.

So while I was paying attention to all the important info I was also praying to the Gods of Embarrassing Situations that the little snot droplet didn't drop on my shirt.

Gawd! My life is so exciting the only thing interesting I have to write about is snot!

Best part of the meeting though was the guy sitting next to me who kept cracking jokes. At one point, someone was talking about a guy who used to work at a "battered fish company" (a production plant where they put frozen battered fish into bags and the bags into boxes and the boxes onto trucks to be delivered to the frozen food aisle at your local grocery) and the guy next to me said, "Is that like a battered woman's shelter?" Trust me, it had everyone chuckling.

In fact, there's been lots of chuckling so far today. Everyone's in a good mood. Everyone's making fun of everyone else. It's all good all around. And thankfully, with the sinus headache gone, it no longer hurts to laugh.

Time to go now and attend a training session. New system. New training. New problems to deal with. Wheee!

The Sickness

Yesterday, the mother of all head colds hit me like a two-ton hippo with an attitude problem. The sickness started toying with me a little bit on Sunday night so I took some… well I have no idea what the hell it’s called. It was green and round and the box said it relieved cold and sinus pressure and sore throats and yadda yadda yadda.

The box is a lying little bastard.

Yesterday morning, the symptoms were worse. And continued to get worse throughout the day. Mainly because I forgot to take more medicine before I left for work.

D’oh!

It’s a theme this week, this forgetting thing. I almost drove off without my glasses this morning. I thought long and hard (for all ten contemplative seconds) and decided to brave the pouring rain and run back upstairs and grab my glasses.

Because, oh yeah, its raining. Was it raining a week ago when I felt perfectly fine and would have welcomed the rain with great big hugs and smoochy kissy faces? Nooooooo. It waits until I feel icky and achy and snotty. As someone in the office just said, this is stay-home-under-the-warm-covers kind of weather.

Amen sista.

So yesterday, I didn’t feel good at ALL. Besides having a head that felt like it was going to explode at any second, I felt achy all over. Feverish achy, though I don’t think I actually had a fever. I couldn’t concentrate on anything, which is really great when you have a lot of work to do, and need to be doing some schoolwork during breaks and such. After work, instead of going home and getting warm and medicated I went to class. Because I’m a superstar that way.

I hate being in a classroom, surrounded by peers, when snot is constantly leaking out my nose. It would not stop, my leaky nose. So embarrassing. So, so embarrassing. And its not like I could hide at the back of the classroom. Noooooo. We’re in “workshop” mode, which means we all turn our desks around and form a little circle so we can all stare at Lisa The Red Nosed Reindeer stuff Kleenex up her nose before snot drips everywhere.

Sigh.

And then, after class, I had to walk over ten minutes to get to my car (construction project made me park in the BFE lot). This normally wouldn’t be a problem but it was pouring outside and all I had between me and the big bad rain was a dinky little umbrella. And the wind was blowing so hard my umbrella kept flipping up. And I couldn’t breath through my nose so I looked like one of those creepy mouth-breathers. And I was cold. And wet. And miserable.

And oh so whiny.

I took some claritin when I got home. I don’t know if what I have is allergies or just regular cold symptoms but holy crap that shit worked. A hundred times better than the green thing I took Sunday night.

I feel about fifty percent better today. I’m just a little bit achy, and my nose is still producing snot like its on some kind of deadline, but I don’t feel like my head is going to explode in the process. So that’s something.

Yesterday, every time I needed to blow my nose I stepped outside the office/trailer. I really don’t like people (other than family) hearing me blow my nose. It didn’t start raining until after work, so I didn’t mind the exercise.

But today? It’ll be raining non-friggin-stop. And there’s nowhere in this trailer to blow my nose quietly, so I warned the people in my office that they were going to listen to my snot symphony all day. They said they didn’t mind, but Mr. Funnypants Office Guy just had to make a joke or some silly comment whenever I blew my nose.

Oy vey.

So now I’ll be stepping outside, in the rain, to relieve myself. It’s not too bad, actually. I stepped outside in the middle of writing this and its only sprinkling outside. I’m feeling well enough that I actually enjoy the feel of the light sprinkling. So I’ll be doing “my business” outside again.

In fact, I think I have to blow my nose again. Dammit! Why did I have to get sick now for crying out loud???

Things I Would Have Blogged About Over The Last Couple of Weeks If I'd Had The Time

Doesn't it just bite the Big Fuzzy Woolly One that just when exciting things happen to me, things interesting enough to actually blog about, I have absolutely no time to write them down! Grrrr! The last couple of weeks have been a whirlwind of meetings and midterms and deadlines and cleverly disguised mini freak-outs. Anyways, here's a list of the things I thought, "hey, I should blog this!" but never got around to the follow through.

If I'd had the time, I would have written about...

... how the techno virus I was afflicted with during the last few blog rants was contagious. The HB's car completely shut off while he was zooming down the freeway. Scary stuff. His car is working fine now, but like all good viruses, it boomerang back to the initial victim, causing my "Check Engine" light to wink at me the other day. It hasn't come back on, so I'm assuming the car was just being cranky, but needless to say I'm feeling super paranoid while driving my car.

... how some guy was shot dead right outside my apartment. And I mean RIGHT OUTSIDE. I could have hocked a loogey from my balcony farther than where the guy was shot.

... how much I'm loving my George Eliot english class (even though I spend all weekend trying to speed read through long Victorian novels). The professor is fun (I laugh at least once every class period) and passionate and so wonderful to listen to.

... the four hour meeting with the all important Business Excellence hotshots who grilled me on my department's poor business practices. The meeting wasn't bad. But it was loooooooong. Especially since it was the same long-ass list of questions I've gone over TWICE before! Sheesh.

... the freaky psychic dream I had where I dreamed about being in a college bookstore staring at a bunch of mini globes I had to buy instead of books thinking, "Hmmm, guess I'm gonna have to look up a bunch places for the class" and the VERY next day my professor says, "When you're reading, if you come across a country you haven't heard of, you might want to look it up on a map". Seriously. How freaky is that?

... all the other weird dreams I've been having lately. They've been awesome. Though they escape from memory within just a few hours of waking up so writing about them now would be pointless. I have got to keep a journal by my bed. And I have got to be willing to wake up enough to write them down instead of going back to sleep for another hour or so.

... how I almost got in an All-Girl-SmackDown-A-Thon with an old lady. I'm pretty sure I could have taken the snobby table-snatching beyotch.

... the rough outline of an essay I'm thinking of titling Why Satan Invented Parallel Parking.

... why I <3 Coworker Zack.

... Olympics! Olypmics! Olypics!

... the office move from hell. I work in a trailer now. I go potty in another trailer. A trailer that has its own key. The Potty Key. I like to think of the potty trailer as an Executive Washroom. One that's locked to keep out the riffraff. Beats thinking that I'm peeing in a dinky little trailer that could blow over with the next big Santa Ana gust of wind. In the last couple of weeks there's been four power surges. So getting work done has been spotty at best. Barrels of fun, let me tell ya.

... the Valentine's gift I got from the HB that was half-crappy (a box of fancy chocolates just mere days after I said I didn't particularly like boxes of fancy chocolates) and half-wonderful (a very, very, sweet poem he wrote just for me. *sigh*)

Okay. I think that's about it. For now at least. When I trip down the potty trailer stairs (which I feel might be one of those inevitabilities) I'll have something more interesting to write about.

Me? Paranoid? Why that's just sil... Wait, who told you that???

Got my car back on Saturday.

Yeah!

After I shelled out 600 bucks, that is.

Bummer!

And yes, I know it could have been worse. That was my favorite mantra of the day actually.

It could have been worse, it could have been worse...

Good news is the car only turned itself off once before I got home! Even better news is I wasn't driving at the time; I'd made a stop along the way.

I was so excited at once again having that sense of freedom that is attached to owning a working car that I felt like making a stop at the drug store for a much-needed stick of deodorant. You know when you can see the plastic bottom of the deodorant tube more than you can see deodorant. I was there. I could have made due for about... oh... another day. Then I would have been reduced to using the HB's deodorant. But by then, of course, he would have been back in town and I could have asked for a ride to the store. It didn't matter either way, because I had my car back! Wheeee!

So after my drugstore pit (heh) stop, I turned the car on, already thinking about where I was going to go next. Five seconds later, the car shut itself off. I was too shocked to utter even the simplest of curses. I turned the car on again, and when I felt it try to die on me again I pushed on the gas and said, "don't you even think about it you little beyotch." Whether it was the gas or the epitaph that worked, I don't know. I'd like to think that they were both persuasive.

I made one more stop that day (for groceries) and the car was still a little shaking on its feet. So I took it home and decided to give it a little rest. A little R and R for the loon-mobile. When the HB got home the next day from his family drama outing we decided to take my car for a fast food run. And the car started up beautifully, as if it hadn't had any inkling of a problem whatsoever, just like use to before making me a nervous driving wreck.

So the car works. Yeah! But I'm going to be paranoid for a couple of weeks now, wondering what every little sound or movement from my car means. Is that normal? Has it always made that sound? I can't help it. I'm like that every time something happens to my car.

In The Ongoing Saga of Woman Versus Machine...

Guess what's not working for me now.

My car.

Oh yeah, that's right. My fucking car doesn't work!

Arrrrrrrgggggggggghhhhhhhhh!!!!

My car keeps overheating because some electrical switch isn't turning on.

It's not the tires that are giving me grief (though I was late to work Tuesday because one was flat, the little bastard). It's not the seatbelt or the hood or the left taillight cover (which, note to self, hasn't magically fixed itself and still needs to be replaced). What's broken is electrical. As in the little computer in my car is wonky and refused to work like its supposed to.

It's a goddamn technological conspiracy I tell ya!

To be honest, I don't exactly what's wrong with my car yet. All I know is this: Wednesday, while I was driving to school after work, during the most congested part of the freeway, smoke started pouring out from underneath the hood of my car and the temperature gauge jumped from cold to PULL OVER RIGHT NOW BEFORE YOU EXPLODE YOUR SO HOT!

And I was just one exit away from school too. If the freeway traffic wasn't so bad I could have made it to school and gone to class while the HB checked out my car. As it was I missed class, which, on top of my car dying, really bummed me out. I truly honestly hate missing class. It gives me a strong case of the anxiously jittery butterflies. I also missed class yesterday, which was Quiz Day, and bye-bye to that chunk of my grade because the quizzes can't be made up. Sigh.

I dropped the car off at Midas yesterday morning with the HB. Last night, when the HB was checking out the car, nothing seemed to be leaking, and we could see what had been smoking. The only thing he noticed was that the fan never turned on to cool the engine down. He figured it was some kind of thermal switch (or whatever its called.) When I called in sick to work (car sickness) I talked to my Desk Neighbor, told him the symptoms, and he said it sounded like the same problem. So of course, when we dropped the car off we said, 'hey its probably that therma-switchy-thingy.' Only the HB said it and said it in a more manly technical way.

I got a call later from the Midas guy, he said they ran some tests, found a couple things that were broken, and asked if I would like them to be fixed. I repeated the items to the HB and he didn't say, 'hey, that shouldn't be replaced" so I said sure, fix 'em. I was flustered at the time, because I was in the middle of signing paperwork for my car rental, and I know the things he mentioned had the word "thermal" in them, so I thought they were on the right track and... well, I'm dumb and didn't think to question it. Couple hours later I get another call saying the car is still over heating, and they're going to need to run more tests. Great! I called the HB (who had left town in the middle of the day due to Major Family Drama) and he said... well I can't remember what he said. But he mentioned something about how they should have replaced the therma-switchy-thingy. Oh yeah, the switch thingy. Now you remind me.

I called Midas Guy back, made sure he wasn't going to charge me for the tests ("Oh, of course not!") and then I said, "You know, I've mentioned the car's symptoms to a few people and they think its the therma-switchy-thingy and we mentioned that to you when we dropped the car off so have you by any chance checked to see if that's broken." To which Midas Guy replied: "That's what we're testing now. The switches."

"Gee, that's swell you little fuck nugget, but you could have tested that BEFORE you replaced a hundred dollars worth of parts!"

I didn't say that, but I wanted to. I guess its my own fault for being stupid and trusting that just because they're part of a chain of repair shops instead of Joe Blow's Ole Fix It Shoppe they wouldn't screw me over. Bastards. Now I'm wondering if the pump he said was ready to burst on me was really all that bad. I'm a girl, so I'm sure I look like a sucker to them, but that's why I brought a man with me, a man who wouldn't get a glazed blank look in his eyes when you mentioned something mechanical or car related to him.

So it's nine o'clock and still no phone call about whether or not it was the therma-switchy-thingy that needed to be replaced or not. Maybe it is. Maybe its not. I'll find out soon. I hope. In the mean time I've got a rental car to get me to and from work and school. It's costing money, sure, and I could just play hooky for another day, but it would drive me crazy to do so. So I'll be driving a rental instead. A rental, by the way, that looks a LOT fancier than my P.O.S. smurf mobile.

Sigh.

So who wants to take bets on what the next piece of technology will be that takes a crap all over my happy parade?