Because She Could

I'm writing this from the couch with my trusty tried and true pencil and pad of paper. Well, actually, they are none of those T's. The pencil and paper were just close and convenient. I've sat at the computer several times this weekend to write the following events/thoughts/bitchy complaints and I just couldn't get around to opening up that word document and typing away at it. Instead, I checked emails, read some blogs, and cleaned the gunky buildup off of the computer mouse's inner wheel thingies.

Okay, time for a quick confession. For some unknown reason I find this task immensely satisfying. And like when you're sharpening a pencil with a little hand held sharpener and you try and make one long continuous pencil shaving, when I wipe the gunk off of the rollers I try and wipe it off in one long gunk strip. Which is the main reason I haven't switched to a ball-less mouse yet. Because cleaning the gunky mouse wheel is fun. And challenging. And... hey, quit looking at me like that! Sheesh.

So when it came to actually typing I thought of something better to do. Why I was procrastinating I have no idea. But I have some theories.

Theory 1: Blank Page Cooties

I'm having serious mental writer's block issues with this story I'm trying to write. I've got the first part written down in hastily scribbled notes and I keep trying to write it out in actual sentences but whenever I sit at the computer to do so my mind goes duhhhhh. The Evil Blank Page Cooties are following me wherever I type, no matter what I'm typing. And cooties are bad so I'm trying to avoid them. For the moment at least.

Theory 2: Crick In The Butt Syndrome

The chair at the computer desk is uncomfortable. When I sit on it I'm always shifting around, trying to avoid getting a crick in the butt (which is like a crick in the neck, only lower) and that's not conducive to the typing frame of mind I need to be in to type.

Theory 3: Computer Monitor Death Rays

Staring too long at a monitor all day at work is slowly melting my eyeballs. The computer at home isn't helping matters. (I think I might need glasses, but that's a story for another time. And another post.)

Theory 4: Alien Interface Interference

The chip the aliens implanted in my head starts to short circuit at the click clack sounds of fingers typing away at a keyboard. The chip has this self defense mechanism that keeps me from typing until its absolutely necessary (like typing this stupid thing for publishing status).

I don't know why I couldn't type this out first on the computer. I'm sure it has something to do with some combination of the above theories. Which ever it is, I'm sitting here writing this out by hand and typing it up later. Is this post really worth the time and effort? Probably not. But I'm doing it anyway. Because I can dammit.

You know, that'd be a cool gravestone quote:

Because she could.

Ah crap, its getting late and I need to go to bed soon (gah! I feel old saying that) and I've already written more than I thought I was going to on this part. I'm going to post this now and post the rest of it later. Maybe possibly tomorrow. For now I think I need to re-de-gunkify my mouse. :)

Ground Control to Major Suckage

Well my week has gone from crappy to double crappy, super sized. From Scrappy doo to Scooby sized doo doo.

Because I am currently without car.

*whine*

I'm trying not to worry about it. Mainly because worrying is giving me a headache, and I've had one since Tuesday night. (A headache. Not a car. *whine*) Also, its pointless to worry because I don't know how bad it all is yet. Why worry now when I can totally freak out later when I get the bill! Wheeee!

Okay, so here's what happened. I was driving home Tuesday after work and as I took the off ramp from one highway to another this Huge Piece of Metal suddenly appears in the road in front of me. And no joke about the 'suddenly' part. The highway was full of commuters both in front of me and to each side of me, and I didn't see anyone hit their brakes or try and swerve to avoid this Huge Piece of Metal in the road. I only saw it after the van in front of me drove completely over it. Which, unfortunately, by then was too late to do anything but drive over it myself. The van drove over the HPoM without a problem because it's under belly was high off the ground. But my granny car is also a low rider car, apparently, and it would not yield. The Huge Piece of Metal looked like it was the tail gate of some truck, all bent to hell, and I really didn't want to drive over it. But I didn't have time to move to another lane or slow down enough to avoid it so over it I drove. And it totally freaked me out as I heard it rattled around down there and violate my poor car.

I got home safely (bright side!). While my poor nerves were shot to hell my car fared far worse. I took it in Wednesday to get repaired by someone the HB had gone to before, and really liked. While it was getting fixed (the Evil Huge Piece of Metal dented in my transmission fluid pan thingy) the HB and I spent a perfect rainy morning eating at our new favorite breakfast place (bright side!), this little whole-in-the-wall type restaurant that has only about ten tables and is always packed. We sat by the window, drank lots of coffee, chatted and watched the rain pitter patter away, and I tried not to worry about my car. And about how I wasn't at work.

I don't know what it is about me, but I felt bad for not being at work. I don't love my job, I don't get an abundance of fulfillment every day that I'm at my desk, there was nothing urgent for me to do, nothing that anyone else couldn't have handled. I was not needed at work by any means, really. And yet a tiny part of me, which my rebel badass part tried its best to smother with a pillow, felt bad because I could have gotten a ride to work but chose not to. It's like some Good Angel brain chip was implanted in my brain at birth that would cause me to feel guilty for doing something I know I shouldn't be doing. At least it only works in regards to my job. :) Damn work responsibility mind chip!

So anyway, the HB and I went and picked up my car later that Wednesday. It hiccupped on the drive home, but I thought that maybe it would take awhile to warm up. Or whatever. Because Mechanic Guy said he drove it and everything seemed fine. He also quoted us a price for having to replace the whole pan thingy and the repairs ended up costing more for just un-denting the damn thing. *grumble grumble grumble*

I drove it to work yesterday, which was Thursday, and everything seemed fine. But then I drove the car to get lunch and the damn thing kept doing this jerky maneuver on me. "It's your transmission!" the guys back at work diagnosed after I listed the car's symptoms. (I work with a bunch of mechanics, which comes in handy sometimes). So I left work early to go take my car back to the shop. I explained what was wrong to Mechanic Guy and he looked perplexed, as though since he drove it around the block and everything seemed fine I must be crazy for thinking anything else was wrong with it after I drove it out on the freeway and all that shit.

So, to make this long story even longer, here I am. It's Friday morning. I am without car. And I am not at work.

I keep thinking, 'hey, since I'm not at work I could go... d'oh! No car!' And that just bums me out all over again. I try not to think about how much it will cost to fix my transmission, or whatever is wrong with my poor car. Hopefully I've good enough car insurance that will pay for most, if not all of it.

But after all, today is another day. I said that last night as I stood looking defiantly over Tara, vowing never to go hungry ag... oh wait. I'm thinking about the wrong movie here. Excuse me, I've been on a mental spaz jag for the last couple of days. Which caused the headache, so I'm trying to be less brain spazzy.

Which is hard to do, since this week has been so crappy. I tried to do laundry the other day and one of the machines I put money in and thought was working was just faking it. It wasn't working. So I had to make an extra trip down to the laundry room. *grumble grumble* And another washing machine was slower than the others so I had to wait a few extra minutes for its slow ass to finish its spin thing. And when the washing machines were finally done there wasn't a free dryer because two thirds of the dryers were broken and the rest were being used and... *sigh*

I tell ya, the world is conspiring against me this week.

*sneaks paranoid glance around apartment and wonders what seemingly harmless inanimate object is going to attack next*

But, as Eric Idle sings, always look on the bright side of life. Which I'm doing. Really. Even if it doesn't sound like it here in this rant. I can't help myself, really. I was talking to my mom about all the crap last night and she called me a Pollyanna, because while I called it all crap I was still pointing out 'well at least this... and at least that...' I totally inherited the Pollyanna gene from her. It got watered down a bit in the passing down, but a little bit of it is still there. I've imagined the worst that could have happened to my car (and my wallet *whine*), and now I'm reminding myself of the positives...

Because my car wasn't totally defeated by the Evil Huge Piece of Metal. It managed to deliver me home safe and sound.

Because its bright and sunny outside and I don't have to be at work until later today, if at all. I'm not worry about it any more. Because I have a cool boss that said sure, I could leave work early, before even hearing why I needed to.

And because if my poor car wasn't in the shop right now I'd be at work, and I wouldn't have been here at home, logged into yahoo messenger when a friend I haven't chatted with in awhile decides to log in as well and say hello.

And MMMBop was playing on launchcast a few minutes ago. And that damn song always makes me smile.

Oh yes. Today will be a good day.

It will dammit! Because I'm settling for nothing less. :)

Would you rather...

1. wear your hair like liberace OR telly savalas?

Well, I've seen pictures of myself in a swim cap, so I know I'd look pretty funny without any hair. More so than with a Liberace 'do, I think. Besides, I could so rock the Liberace 'do.

2. be world famous for your black velvet paintings OR for your grilled cheese sandwiches?

While I would have really spectacular grilled cheese sandwiches (my onion and hot dog supreme sandwich being the most famous of famous cheese sandwiches ever!!!) I'd rather be world famous for my black velvet paintings.

Because not everyone can enjoy cheese. Some are allergic to it.

But black velvet is universal. Everyone can enjoy the awesome beauty of black velvet paintings!

3. smell like a water buffalo OR old cheese?

Uh... I'd rather smell like old cheese. Because that's a smell I could explain.

"Oh, that smell? That's... uh... I left some cheese in the fridge a couple years ago and it spontaneously combusted the other day and I haven't been able to clean it all up yet."

It'd be harder to explain away the smell of water buffalo.

I think.

I mean, it's not like I've had any experience with that sort of thing. Sheesh!

4. eat monkey brain OR kitten?

Monkey brain. Reason? Er... less fur. And, oh yeah, eating kitties is just WRONG!

Why yes, I am wearing the new coffee scented pants from Scratch-N-Sniff Apparel. Thanks for noticing!

And while I'm on the subject of coffee pants, I'd like to give a quick shout out to whoever invented the color black. Dude, you rock!

Because I spilled was attacked by evil coffee and some of it got on my black pants and you can't see anything! It's like it never happened!

Except I might smell a bit like coffee now...

But probably only to people sniffing my pants. And since no one is currently doing that I think I'm safe. No one will know my secret! At least no one here in the office. Where I'm surrounded by peers that may judge and ridicule me for not being skilled enough to pick up and hold a paper coffee cup in my hand.

Okay. I'm seriously over the whole coffee-pants thing now. Really.

I came. I saw. I wet my pants.

I came into work this morning with a cup of starbuck's coffee (that tried to kill me in the car - death by scalding - had nothing to do with how uncoordinated I am - honest) and a piece of crumbly coffee cake. Yum.

As I sat down at my desk with my breakfast this Old Crabby Guy tries to give me a bad time (like he always does) and says, "Look at her, bringin' in brefas (de-ebonic-fied: breakfast) for herself and not thinkin' 'bout the rest of us."

And I said, still wet in the pants from having just barely staved off an attack from the conspiring killer coffee cup and lid, "Oh, I thought about you guys. And the thought of eating this in front of y'all and not sharing even one little crumb gave me the warmest of fuzzy feelings."

What can I say, I get kinda cranky when my pants are wet. :)

But I said it with a smile. A smile so bright that if I was in an Orbitz commercial you would have heard the ding of my bright shiny teeth a mile away. And that's all that matters, especially in this office.

"I see how ya is," Old Crabby Guy says, sounding crabby but smiling just the same.

Then he went to go crab to someone else and I went into the bathroom to try and de-coffee my pants. And such was the beginnings of this wonderful day.

Hi Ku! How's it going?

putting on black pants
this morn was preemptive strike.
spilt coffee is fun!

evil coffee cup
attacks innocent drinker
News at Eleven

1. Material world:: Madonna's plane of existence
   
2. Satin sheets:: red
   
3. Blizzard:: ice cream
   
4. Real estate:: houses
   
5. Dress up:: barbie
   
6. Wesley:: Crusher ... *hopelessly dreamy sigh* :)
   
7. Robber:: barron
   
8. Saliva:: spit
   
9. Slave:: love
   
10. Shift:: 3rd ... which the HB is working right now *bummed sigh*