Poll
The poll is up. Thanks to Green Tuna, I ganked her poll idea and now you can make your voice heard: will baby Doodle be a boy or a girl?
Like a waterfall in slow motion, Part One
2 years ago
Thursday, February 17
Doodlerific
So you want to know about the Doodster, eh? S/he is making his/her presence known, that's for sure. Within the past week I have started to feel the movement. It's a trip. At first, I thought that I had eaten some bad Taco Bell, but then I remembered, I can't eat that crap anymore.
Due to my dietary restrictions (read: carb crackdown), I have LOST about six pounds in the past 2 1/2 weeks. This has allowed me to continue to get away with wearing non-maternity clothes, much to my co-workers' jealous dismay (ha ha). I still hate walking on the treadmill, but I do it faithfully every night while watching Days of Our Lives.
Next Friday we hopefully will find out if it's a boy or a girl Doodle. I am getting a distinct boy-vibe. Maybe it's because I can belch like Barney on The Simpsons now. Perhaps I'll have a poll and we can all take bets. I'll work on that...
But enough about me. Bad Lady made the receptionist cry yesterday. Apparently she was expecting -- of all things -- a personal call, and went up and told our regular receptionist that even if she was on the other line, to break in and tell her she had a call, but NOT TO SAY WHO IT WAS. We have a new receptionist who comes in during the lunch hour, and she's only been with us for a week. So she was on duty when the fateful call arrived. And naturally, because it's all she does all day, BL was on her phone. New receptionist broke in, and said, "Bad Lady, Dr. Soandso is on the phone."
Now the only people within earshot are me and New Girl #1, and I either wasn't at my desk or didn't hear, nor would I have noticed or cared if I had, and New Girl #1 probably doesn't give two shits about Dr. Soandso, either.
But BL was so incensed that she charged up to the front desk and bitched out the new receptionist about how that was a personal matter that she didn't want broadcast. Which caused the new receptionist to break down into tears. Nice work, BL. Another fine job.
She also had another client complain to my boss about her yesterday, which pissed her off further. She came over to me to whine about it and was incredulous about it. "They complained about me. About ME!" she said to me, gesturing at herself as if she was wearing a "Citizen of the Year" medal. I could barely keep a straight face. Now that I'm sort of in a leadership role, I have to try and be nice to her. It nearly killed me.
I recovered, though.
So you want to know about the Doodster, eh? S/he is making his/her presence known, that's for sure. Within the past week I have started to feel the movement. It's a trip. At first, I thought that I had eaten some bad Taco Bell, but then I remembered, I can't eat that crap anymore.
Due to my dietary restrictions (read: carb crackdown), I have LOST about six pounds in the past 2 1/2 weeks. This has allowed me to continue to get away with wearing non-maternity clothes, much to my co-workers' jealous dismay (ha ha). I still hate walking on the treadmill, but I do it faithfully every night while watching Days of Our Lives.
Next Friday we hopefully will find out if it's a boy or a girl Doodle. I am getting a distinct boy-vibe. Maybe it's because I can belch like Barney on The Simpsons now. Perhaps I'll have a poll and we can all take bets. I'll work on that...
But enough about me. Bad Lady made the receptionist cry yesterday. Apparently she was expecting -- of all things -- a personal call, and went up and told our regular receptionist that even if she was on the other line, to break in and tell her she had a call, but NOT TO SAY WHO IT WAS. We have a new receptionist who comes in during the lunch hour, and she's only been with us for a week. So she was on duty when the fateful call arrived. And naturally, because it's all she does all day, BL was on her phone. New receptionist broke in, and said, "Bad Lady, Dr. Soandso is on the phone."
Now the only people within earshot are me and New Girl #1, and I either wasn't at my desk or didn't hear, nor would I have noticed or cared if I had, and New Girl #1 probably doesn't give two shits about Dr. Soandso, either.
But BL was so incensed that she charged up to the front desk and bitched out the new receptionist about how that was a personal matter that she didn't want broadcast. Which caused the new receptionist to break down into tears. Nice work, BL. Another fine job.
She also had another client complain to my boss about her yesterday, which pissed her off further. She came over to me to whine about it and was incredulous about it. "They complained about me. About ME!" she said to me, gesturing at herself as if she was wearing a "Citizen of the Year" medal. I could barely keep a straight face. Now that I'm sort of in a leadership role, I have to try and be nice to her. It nearly killed me.
I recovered, though.
Tuesday, February 15
V-Day aftermath
We did nothing special for Valentine's Day. I mean, as far as the traditional roses and chocolates and expensive dinners, we did none of that. We did, however, grill out big ass steaks. We ate at our kitchen table with a romantic centerpiece -- a sleeping black and white cat (someone seems to have perpetually allowed Dom to lick the milk out of his cereal bowl in the morning, thus now the cat thinks he can hop up on the table whenever food is being served). After dinner, I watched "Trading Spouses" while my food digested, and then hopped on the treadmill during "24". My husband passed out on the couch due to overconsumption of both steak and wine.
By the way, non-blogger people: comments have been revamped, so y'all can comment your pretty little asses off, if you felt like it.
We did nothing special for Valentine's Day. I mean, as far as the traditional roses and chocolates and expensive dinners, we did none of that. We did, however, grill out big ass steaks. We ate at our kitchen table with a romantic centerpiece -- a sleeping black and white cat (someone seems to have perpetually allowed Dom to lick the milk out of his cereal bowl in the morning, thus now the cat thinks he can hop up on the table whenever food is being served). After dinner, I watched "Trading Spouses" while my food digested, and then hopped on the treadmill during "24". My husband passed out on the couch due to overconsumption of both steak and wine.
By the way, non-blogger people: comments have been revamped, so y'all can comment your pretty little asses off, if you felt like it.
Monday, February 14
Current blood sugar: 80
Days until presentation #2: 25
Days until ultrasound: 11
Days until Survivor premiere: 3
Well, the worst is over. It was a hectic, stressful couple of days, but I made it. And we put on a great show. I didn't sleep much the night before, and I knew that I had reached a point of utter exhaustion when, during a "dance break" in the show, I found myself bopping my head to the "Macarena" while I watched in horror as people in business suits gyrated on stage.
Now I have another month to put together another show. I feel a lot better about this show because it's in town, and it's in my comfort zone. That doesn't mean I won't be freaking about it, however. Be warned.
Days until presentation #2: 25
Days until ultrasound: 11
Days until Survivor premiere: 3
Well, the worst is over. It was a hectic, stressful couple of days, but I made it. And we put on a great show. I didn't sleep much the night before, and I knew that I had reached a point of utter exhaustion when, during a "dance break" in the show, I found myself bopping my head to the "Macarena" while I watched in horror as people in business suits gyrated on stage.
Now I have another month to put together another show. I feel a lot better about this show because it's in town, and it's in my comfort zone. That doesn't mean I won't be freaking about it, however. Be warned.
Wednesday, February 9
Forgot to mention...
I think I may have neglected to mention that Bad Lady is not going on the trip. She was originally slated to go, and we were all riding together. I owe one of my co-workers BIG TIME for convincing my boss to leave BL behind in favor of bringing one of the new girls so that she could gain the experience of doing one of our shows. Translation: no one wanted BL along for the ride.
So at least that's one positive thing about this trip tomorrow.
By the way, I'm still at work. Waiting for changes. At 6:30. La la la.
I think I may have neglected to mention that Bad Lady is not going on the trip. She was originally slated to go, and we were all riding together. I owe one of my co-workers BIG TIME for convincing my boss to leave BL behind in favor of bringing one of the new girls so that she could gain the experience of doing one of our shows. Translation: no one wanted BL along for the ride.
So at least that's one positive thing about this trip tomorrow.
By the way, I'm still at work. Waiting for changes. At 6:30. La la la.
Current blood sugar: 98
Days until major presentation #1: 2
Days until major presentation #2: 31
Days until ultrasound: 16
Hours until I leave for Pittsburgh: 24
Sanity left: none
Today could either suck worse than anything has ever sucked before, or it could be easy. Just depends on forces beyond my control. I'm essentially done with the show. But I have a feeling that we'll get a lot of last minute changes today, hence the suckage.
Wish me luck...
Days until major presentation #1: 2
Days until major presentation #2: 31
Days until ultrasound: 16
Hours until I leave for Pittsburgh: 24
Sanity left: none
Today could either suck worse than anything has ever sucked before, or it could be easy. Just depends on forces beyond my control. I'm essentially done with the show. But I have a feeling that we'll get a lot of last minute changes today, hence the suckage.
Wish me luck...
Friday, February 4
Go shorty, it's your birthday
Today is IBL's birthday. I got him a card, which he liked, and which I liked too (see my previous post about buying birthday cards). The front said, "If we were monkeys, I'd wish you a five-banana day." And it had some cute monkey drawings on it.
And, in honor of it being his special day, I interrupted my phone conversation after the third time he popped his head into my cube to ask me a stupid question. Any other day, I would have waited until at least the fifth time.
Today is IBL's birthday. I got him a card, which he liked, and which I liked too (see my previous post about buying birthday cards). The front said, "If we were monkeys, I'd wish you a five-banana day." And it had some cute monkey drawings on it.
And, in honor of it being his special day, I interrupted my phone conversation after the third time he popped his head into my cube to ask me a stupid question. Any other day, I would have waited until at least the fifth time.
Thursday, February 3
Crimes against humanity
Somehow, some way, Bad Lady has gotten a hold of the Phantom of the Opera soundtrack. And is playing it. Loudly.
Prior to today I had nothing against the Phantom. In fact, I have seen it on Broadway and bawled my eyes out like a baby (this was the famous high school trip where I got a Saturday suspension for smoking a cigarette in my hotel room). But for the love of Andrew Lloyd Webber, I cannot tolerate it coming out of Bad Lady's speakers! I just can't!
I suppose I should be grateful. This certainly is a nice respite from the Pina Colada song, Celine Dion, and every Top 40 hit Lionel Ritchie ever had.
Somehow, some way, Bad Lady has gotten a hold of the Phantom of the Opera soundtrack. And is playing it. Loudly.
Prior to today I had nothing against the Phantom. In fact, I have seen it on Broadway and bawled my eyes out like a baby (this was the famous high school trip where I got a Saturday suspension for smoking a cigarette in my hotel room). But for the love of Andrew Lloyd Webber, I cannot tolerate it coming out of Bad Lady's speakers! I just can't!
I suppose I should be grateful. This certainly is a nice respite from the Pina Colada song, Celine Dion, and every Top 40 hit Lionel Ritchie ever had.
Wednesday, February 2
Current blood sugar: 101
Days until major presentation #1: 9
Days until major presentation #2: 37
Days until ultrasound: 23
Stress level: High
So the best we could do in Cleveland was a mime. (Mime!)
Actually I thought Miracle Boy was good in a Clay Aiken wannabe sort of way.
IBL keeps asking me the same question every day regarding some way-in-the-distance deadline project that hasn't even crossed my radar screen, and this morning I was snippy to him. I feel kind of bad. It still doesn't beat the conference call from yesterday where my boss blew up and told someone on the other end of the phone to "stop dicking around," among other things, which culminated in an abrupt termination of the call (on the other end).
Hee.
P.S. Eff you, Punxsutawny Phil.
Days until major presentation #1: 9
Days until major presentation #2: 37
Days until ultrasound: 23
Stress level: High
So the best we could do in Cleveland was a mime. (Mime!)
Actually I thought Miracle Boy was good in a Clay Aiken wannabe sort of way.
IBL keeps asking me the same question every day regarding some way-in-the-distance deadline project that hasn't even crossed my radar screen, and this morning I was snippy to him. I feel kind of bad. It still doesn't beat the conference call from yesterday where my boss blew up and told someone on the other end of the phone to "stop dicking around," among other things, which culminated in an abrupt termination of the call (on the other end).
Hee.
P.S. Eff you, Punxsutawny Phil.
Tuesday, February 1
Current blood sugar: 98
Days until major presentation #1: 10
Days until major presentation #2: 38
Days until ultrasound: 24
Stress level: High
Cleveland American Idol auditions air tonight. You can bet that I'll be watching.
This diabetic diet thing isn't so bad. I've lost about three pounds (not so good in pregnancy, but I could stand to lose the weight!).
If I'm a little scarce on the blog, it's because I'm working on some HUGE presentations for work. Putting in the late hours, and the days are going by in a haze.
I'll be back to normal soon! Hopefully!
Days until major presentation #1: 10
Days until major presentation #2: 38
Days until ultrasound: 24
Stress level: High
Cleveland American Idol auditions air tonight. You can bet that I'll be watching.
This diabetic diet thing isn't so bad. I've lost about three pounds (not so good in pregnancy, but I could stand to lose the weight!).
If I'm a little scarce on the blog, it's because I'm working on some HUGE presentations for work. Putting in the late hours, and the days are going by in a haze.
I'll be back to normal soon! Hopefully!
Friday, January 28
Ponderous
Blogger ate a rather long-winded post (a rarity from me) about my trip to the dietitian and how I freaked out when I had to stab myself with the needle. It also made a rather Beavis-like joke about a big prick. Huh huh.
However, I have moved on.
And I am wondering about something.
Have we, as a society, gotten so lazy that we watch people playing cards on television? I heard a radio commercial for Season 2 of the World Series of Blackjack, followed by Celebrity Blackjack, not to mention the poker craze that is sweeping the nation. I understand playing cards. It's fun. Watching other people play? Not so much. And spending an afternoon watching several hours of programming devoted to watching complete strangers play? No thanks.
Unless I'm missing something. Like the cards randomly light on fire while they are playing. Or if they play a certain sequence of cards, a dancing bear comes across the screen. No? OK. Then I still don't get it.
Blogger ate a rather long-winded post (a rarity from me) about my trip to the dietitian and how I freaked out when I had to stab myself with the needle. It also made a rather Beavis-like joke about a big prick. Huh huh.
However, I have moved on.
And I am wondering about something.
Have we, as a society, gotten so lazy that we watch people playing cards on television? I heard a radio commercial for Season 2 of the World Series of Blackjack, followed by Celebrity Blackjack, not to mention the poker craze that is sweeping the nation. I understand playing cards. It's fun. Watching other people play? Not so much. And spending an afternoon watching several hours of programming devoted to watching complete strangers play? No thanks.
Unless I'm missing something. Like the cards randomly light on fire while they are playing. Or if they play a certain sequence of cards, a dancing bear comes across the screen. No? OK. Then I still don't get it.
Thursday, January 27
Goodbye sugar, my old friend
Sugar, it's been nice knowin' ya. You and I had quite the love affair going on. I would sip you in soda, stir you into tea, and enjoy your sweetness in many, many other ways.
Today, it ends. The jig is up, as they say.
The report from the doctor today was that my sugar levels were abnormally high, and so it's off to the diabetic counselor for me. Fortunately, they believe that this is just gestational diabetes, rather than the full-blown type. I get to go on a "special" diet, and have been instructed to walk two miles a day, which means I have to, quite literally, dust off the treadmill this evening. Once I meet with the counselor, I get to test my blood sugar several times a day. Then, hopefully, my blood sugar will be regulated. If not, then I move to the insulin shots. Let's just hope it doesn't come to that.
There was a bright spot to my doctor's visit... I got to hear the baby's heartbeat. Super cool.
And, the BIG ultrasound is going to be on Feb. 25th, that's where we get to see whether I've got a he or a she growing inside of me!
Oh, and when I got to work, BOTH pregnant woman spots were taken. Remember my post from a couple days ago where I felt guilty about parking there? Well, I was pissed today when my primo spot was not available. Curse those other two bitches!
Sugar, it's been nice knowin' ya. You and I had quite the love affair going on. I would sip you in soda, stir you into tea, and enjoy your sweetness in many, many other ways.
Today, it ends. The jig is up, as they say.
The report from the doctor today was that my sugar levels were abnormally high, and so it's off to the diabetic counselor for me. Fortunately, they believe that this is just gestational diabetes, rather than the full-blown type. I get to go on a "special" diet, and have been instructed to walk two miles a day, which means I have to, quite literally, dust off the treadmill this evening. Once I meet with the counselor, I get to test my blood sugar several times a day. Then, hopefully, my blood sugar will be regulated. If not, then I move to the insulin shots. Let's just hope it doesn't come to that.
There was a bright spot to my doctor's visit... I got to hear the baby's heartbeat. Super cool.
And, the BIG ultrasound is going to be on Feb. 25th, that's where we get to see whether I've got a he or a she growing inside of me!
Oh, and when I got to work, BOTH pregnant woman spots were taken. Remember my post from a couple days ago where I felt guilty about parking there? Well, I was pissed today when my primo spot was not available. Curse those other two bitches!
Wednesday, January 26
Update
I've been scarce lately. Not only am I uber busy at work right now, but I've been having on and off dizzy spells. I go to the doctor tomorrow. I'm wondering if it's the same inner ear crapola that I had about six months ago. If so -- fantastic! Because I can't take anything for it!
Although, it could be anything. The initial wave of dizziness hit me when I was watching vh-1's special about the most awesomely weird show business families or something. They had just shown a picture of Donny Osmond, and I briefly flashed into childhood to recall that I had a Donny Osmond doll (a la Barbie's Ken). And then I realized that my ex-fiance looks kinda like a circa 1970's Donny. That's when my head started to spin.
Despite being busy and dizzy (hey, that rhymes!), I have been keeping up with American Idol. My favorite has definitely been Crunk guy from last night's show. Honestly, I consider myself to still be slightly in touch with the things the kids these days listen to, but are we sure that was English? They should have put him through. Because I'm positive that he would have won the whole competition.
I've been scarce lately. Not only am I uber busy at work right now, but I've been having on and off dizzy spells. I go to the doctor tomorrow. I'm wondering if it's the same inner ear crapola that I had about six months ago. If so -- fantastic! Because I can't take anything for it!
Although, it could be anything. The initial wave of dizziness hit me when I was watching vh-1's special about the most awesomely weird show business families or something. They had just shown a picture of Donny Osmond, and I briefly flashed into childhood to recall that I had a Donny Osmond doll (a la Barbie's Ken). And then I realized that my ex-fiance looks kinda like a circa 1970's Donny. That's when my head started to spin.
Despite being busy and dizzy (hey, that rhymes!), I have been keeping up with American Idol. My favorite has definitely been Crunk guy from last night's show. Honestly, I consider myself to still be slightly in touch with the things the kids these days listen to, but are we sure that was English? They should have put him through. Because I'm positive that he would have won the whole competition.
Monday, January 24
To park, or not to park
Speaking of feeling like an a-hole, I'm having some issues with parking. I have, over the past week, begun to park in the "reserved for expectant mothers" spot at work. It's close to the building, and I can look out and see my car from my cubicle window.
However, I feel kind of guilty parking there. Yes, it's there for people like me. And I should take advantage of it.
I just feel like I am fully capable of walking a few extra steps, and it's just pure laziness for me to park in the pregnant person spot.
Although it did come in handy today when I arrived at work, fifteen minutes late, in my brand spankin' new Cute! As! Hell! shoes, and didn't want to get snow and slush on them.
Speaking of feeling like an a-hole, I'm having some issues with parking. I have, over the past week, begun to park in the "reserved for expectant mothers" spot at work. It's close to the building, and I can look out and see my car from my cubicle window.
However, I feel kind of guilty parking there. Yes, it's there for people like me. And I should take advantage of it.
I just feel like I am fully capable of walking a few extra steps, and it's just pure laziness for me to park in the pregnant person spot.
Although it did come in handy today when I arrived at work, fifteen minutes late, in my brand spankin' new Cute! As! Hell! shoes, and didn't want to get snow and slush on them.
Oops
I feel really bad.
I just looked in my wallet and realized that I didn't use the milk coupon that this little old lady gave me yesterday in the grocery store. She had her cart parked by the milk, and, well truth be told, was in my way, when she glanced at the gallon jug of 2% milk that I hoisted into my cart, and said, "I have a coupon for that, would you like it?"
Startled by the random act of kindness, I said, "Oh, that would be great!"
So I stood there while she rifled through her coupon organizer (it was one of those bellows file things that had little tabs and was alphabetized and everything) for the milk coupon. We were there a good minute or two while she searched.
And then I forgot to use it. I am an asshole.
I feel really bad.
I just looked in my wallet and realized that I didn't use the milk coupon that this little old lady gave me yesterday in the grocery store. She had her cart parked by the milk, and, well truth be told, was in my way, when she glanced at the gallon jug of 2% milk that I hoisted into my cart, and said, "I have a coupon for that, would you like it?"
Startled by the random act of kindness, I said, "Oh, that would be great!"
So I stood there while she rifled through her coupon organizer (it was one of those bellows file things that had little tabs and was alphabetized and everything) for the milk coupon. We were there a good minute or two while she searched.
And then I forgot to use it. I am an asshole.
Friday, January 21
Damage control
Damn, it is wayyyyyyyyyy too easy to shop for shit on Amazon. Last night I went there on a whim, I can't even remember what I was looking for -- oh yeah -- the Napoleon Dynamite soundtrack, which I was pleased to learn, contains several tons of dialogue tracks ("Do the chickens have large talons?"). I didn't order that, though.
I ordered some other stuff, and had several other things in the shopping cart (have you ever noticed that you never quite have enough in your cart for the Super Saver shipping? I am always $10 in merch away from it), but I weeded it down to a respectable amount and wishlisted the rest.
OH MAH GAWD I just realized that I have a button undone on my blouse ... thankfully I have a shirt on underneath, but, nonetheless.
That's OK, I've only seen my boss, two company presidents, and lord knows how many other people already today...
Damn, it is wayyyyyyyyyy too easy to shop for shit on Amazon. Last night I went there on a whim, I can't even remember what I was looking for -- oh yeah -- the Napoleon Dynamite soundtrack, which I was pleased to learn, contains several tons of dialogue tracks ("Do the chickens have large talons?"). I didn't order that, though.
I ordered some other stuff, and had several other things in the shopping cart (have you ever noticed that you never quite have enough in your cart for the Super Saver shipping? I am always $10 in merch away from it), but I weeded it down to a respectable amount and wishlisted the rest.
OH MAH GAWD I just realized that I have a button undone on my blouse ... thankfully I have a shirt on underneath, but, nonetheless.
That's OK, I've only seen my boss, two company presidents, and lord knows how many other people already today...
Wednesday, January 19
:)
This guy is my new hero. This is a little graphic design humor, but I think everyone will enjoy it nonetheless...
http://www.zefrank.com/punc/
This guy is my new hero. This is a little graphic design humor, but I think everyone will enjoy it nonetheless...
http://www.zefrank.com/punc/
Tuesday, January 18
Better late than never
Today's birthday wishes go out to another fellow Capricorn... everyone's favorite Crazy Mamma, Tracie.
Meanwhile, don't forget -- American Idol starts tonight! Let's take a moment to reflect on some idols gone by ...
Yeah. Good times. There was Carmen's yodel/singing, Sideshow Bob's dance maneuvers, and a host of other craptacular performances. Even Mr. T pities the fools who suffered through these mutilated routines.
Today's birthday wishes go out to another fellow Capricorn... everyone's favorite Crazy Mamma, Tracie.
Meanwhile, don't forget -- American Idol starts tonight! Let's take a moment to reflect on some idols gone by ...
Yeah. Good times. There was Carmen's yodel/singing, Sideshow Bob's dance maneuvers, and a host of other craptacular performances. Even Mr. T pities the fools who suffered through these mutilated routines.
Signs of my impending mental instability
1. I have had crying jags during the past three consecutive episodes of The O.C.
2. I had an elaborate, desperate dream in which I frantically searched the aisles of a grocery store in search of Fruit Roll-Ups.
3. I have agreed to ride in the car for 2 1/2 hours with (among other people) Bad Lady.
Bring on the padded room!
1. I have had crying jags during the past three consecutive episodes of The O.C.
2. I had an elaborate, desperate dream in which I frantically searched the aisles of a grocery store in search of Fruit Roll-Ups.
3. I have agreed to ride in the car for 2 1/2 hours with (among other people) Bad Lady.
Bring on the padded room!
Monday, January 17
More on birthdays
I was just out buying birthday cards (actually I needed to buy stamps, and the card store was the closest place I could think of, and so I decided to go there and buy birthday cards for people with upcoming birthdays, such as Incompetent but Likeable, whose is sometime in early February), and I noticed a trend.
It's hard enough to go card shopping. Most cards that are in the "humorous" section are either a) really stupid or b) really crass and tasteless. It's rare to find a card that dares to be cool, that you wouldn't be ashamed to give a friend, or a co-worker. And I'm not one for all the flowery, blubbery "friends are like wishes" crap that some of the cards have. Also, if a card has gold foil on it, I'm not buying it.
I really only had IBL's birthday to shop for today, plus I got a card for a co-worker who is leaving, but as I was looking, I found three or four other cards that I thought were pretty decent. I almost bought them all, but I don't have any major birthdays to cover in the next couple of months, so I decided not to.
You know what will happen, right? When I go back in a few months, all the cards will suck again. And thus, the principle of Birthday Cards Suck Until You're Not Looking For One.
I was just out buying birthday cards (actually I needed to buy stamps, and the card store was the closest place I could think of, and so I decided to go there and buy birthday cards for people with upcoming birthdays, such as Incompetent but Likeable, whose is sometime in early February), and I noticed a trend.
It's hard enough to go card shopping. Most cards that are in the "humorous" section are either a) really stupid or b) really crass and tasteless. It's rare to find a card that dares to be cool, that you wouldn't be ashamed to give a friend, or a co-worker. And I'm not one for all the flowery, blubbery "friends are like wishes" crap that some of the cards have. Also, if a card has gold foil on it, I'm not buying it.
I really only had IBL's birthday to shop for today, plus I got a card for a co-worker who is leaving, but as I was looking, I found three or four other cards that I thought were pretty decent. I almost bought them all, but I don't have any major birthdays to cover in the next couple of months, so I decided not to.
You know what will happen, right? When I go back in a few months, all the cards will suck again. And thus, the principle of Birthday Cards Suck Until You're Not Looking For One.
And now, a moment of selfishness
My in-laws had a joint birthday party for my husband and I yesterday. It was like a freaking baby shower! Although they did get me the new Jon Stewart book, so I can't complain too much. But my lord. Enough with the baby stuff. It's still six months away!
It's my birthday, it should be about me.
ME!
MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
My in-laws had a joint birthday party for my husband and I yesterday. It was like a freaking baby shower! Although they did get me the new Jon Stewart book, so I can't complain too much. But my lord. Enough with the baby stuff. It's still six months away!
It's my birthday, it should be about me.
ME!
MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
Stuff
First of all, happy birthday Margaret! Hope you, P, and Crazy Dog have a great day together.
Second of all, if you grew up in the 80's, or were in high school in the 80's, watch the movie Napoleon Dynamite. We rented it over the weekend and I enjoyed it a lot more than I thought I would.
Also, winning the award for "most graceful fall on one's ass" over the weekend? That would be me on Saturday morning. I'm coming down the stairs, and I had left our cordless phone on the stairs so I don't have to run all over creation to find it, and so I bent to pick up the phone ... and shuffled off to Buffalo. My foot flew out from underneath me, and I rode down the rest of the stairs on my butt. It was the strangest thing after that -- I swear I was semi-unconscious (is that possible?) for a minute because I was talking to my husband, who came running to see if I was ok, but I didn't feel like I was in control of my words. He tried to get me to move, but I couldn't. It was freaky. I thought for sure I had either broken a bone or -- god forbid -- that something would happen to the baby. Fortunately, all I have is a bunch of bruises.
And finally, if anyone else (besides Bad Lady) quits this week, I am going to have a nervous breakdown. Just be forewarned.
First of all, happy birthday Margaret! Hope you, P, and Crazy Dog have a great day together.
Second of all, if you grew up in the 80's, or were in high school in the 80's, watch the movie Napoleon Dynamite. We rented it over the weekend and I enjoyed it a lot more than I thought I would.
Also, winning the award for "most graceful fall on one's ass" over the weekend? That would be me on Saturday morning. I'm coming down the stairs, and I had left our cordless phone on the stairs so I don't have to run all over creation to find it, and so I bent to pick up the phone ... and shuffled off to Buffalo. My foot flew out from underneath me, and I rode down the rest of the stairs on my butt. It was the strangest thing after that -- I swear I was semi-unconscious (is that possible?) for a minute because I was talking to my husband, who came running to see if I was ok, but I didn't feel like I was in control of my words. He tried to get me to move, but I couldn't. It was freaky. I thought for sure I had either broken a bone or -- god forbid -- that something would happen to the baby. Fortunately, all I have is a bunch of bruises.
And finally, if anyone else (besides Bad Lady) quits this week, I am going to have a nervous breakdown. Just be forewarned.
Sunday, January 16
Yet another real conversation that took place in my office
At the end of the day on Friday, I was in my boss' office with another co-worker, and we were half talking business, and half bullshitting. He gets a call from someone to whom he has been trying to send an e-mail all day, and the person still hasn't gotten it.
So, after that call, he dials our head of I.T. and tells him that he is having trouble sending this e-mail.
Boss: (to I.T. guy) An attachment? Yeah, there was an attachment, it was a ... (looks at me)
Me: JPG image.
Boss: (cups hand over phone) Are you screwing with me?
Me: What?!? No.
Boss: OK, then. (to I.T. guy) A JPG midget?
I had to leave the room as tears were streaming down my face from laughing too hard.
At the end of the day on Friday, I was in my boss' office with another co-worker, and we were half talking business, and half bullshitting. He gets a call from someone to whom he has been trying to send an e-mail all day, and the person still hasn't gotten it.
So, after that call, he dials our head of I.T. and tells him that he is having trouble sending this e-mail.
Boss: (to I.T. guy) An attachment? Yeah, there was an attachment, it was a ... (looks at me)
Me: JPG image.
Boss: (cups hand over phone) Are you screwing with me?
Me: What?!? No.
Boss: OK, then. (to I.T. guy) A JPG midget?
I had to leave the room as tears were streaming down my face from laughing too hard.
Friday, January 14
Johnny on the spot
Driving back from lunch, I found myself in traffic behind a truck carrying a load (heh) of port-o-potties. They were facing outward, toward me. Like, one wrong move and those puppies were hood ornaments on my Corolla.
Now I don't know about you, but when faced with such a situation, I decided the best thing was to give plenty of space between myself and the port-o-johns.
How bad would it suck to have your job be to transport portable toilets from one place to another? It made me appreciate my little messed-up office and its silly drama just a little bit today.
I'm over it now, though.
Driving back from lunch, I found myself in traffic behind a truck carrying a load (heh) of port-o-potties. They were facing outward, toward me. Like, one wrong move and those puppies were hood ornaments on my Corolla.
Now I don't know about you, but when faced with such a situation, I decided the best thing was to give plenty of space between myself and the port-o-johns.
How bad would it suck to have your job be to transport portable toilets from one place to another? It made me appreciate my little messed-up office and its silly drama just a little bit today.
I'm over it now, though.
My money's on Willard
The Survivor cast has been released. Check them out here.
Lots of beautiful people this time. And... bonus points if you spot the gay man!
The Survivor cast has been released. Check them out here.
Lots of beautiful people this time. And... bonus points if you spot the gay man!
Thursday, January 13
Wednesday, January 12
Pucker up
My husband and I were sitting over wings 'n' beer and wings 'n' Sprite last night, having a discussion about the state of the popular music industry and how it's gone into the crapper (one of our favorite topics).
I said, "I just realized the other day that I can't even listen to KISS anymore."
He gave me a puzzled look. "You mean you listened to KISS before?"
"Yeah," I said, "Every now and then I'd put it on in the car. But I can't even relate to it anymore."
A long pause.
Then he says, "I mean, some of their more popular songs that they play, like... I don't know. Name one for me."
"Um... Nelly 'Hot in Herre?'" I say.
The lightbulb goes off.
"OH!" he says. "You're talking about KISS the radio station!"
Rather than the makeup-wearing, long tongue-having, Gene Simmons-led band. Here he thought he had married a closet metalhead.
ADDENDUM FOR TVJ: Because I can't get into comments, I'll answer your question here. Yes, I think it's the same, or at least similar. Although we don't have Seacrest in the mornings, we have Valentine. I think he's a Seacrest wannabe. Anyway, they pipe him in from L.A. or god knows where. I'm willing to bet that our KISS is a complete knockoff of your KIIS.
My husband and I were sitting over wings 'n' beer and wings 'n' Sprite last night, having a discussion about the state of the popular music industry and how it's gone into the crapper (one of our favorite topics).
I said, "I just realized the other day that I can't even listen to KISS anymore."
He gave me a puzzled look. "You mean you listened to KISS before?"
"Yeah," I said, "Every now and then I'd put it on in the car. But I can't even relate to it anymore."
A long pause.
Then he says, "I mean, some of their more popular songs that they play, like... I don't know. Name one for me."
"Um... Nelly 'Hot in Herre?'" I say.
The lightbulb goes off.
"OH!" he says. "You're talking about KISS the radio station!"
Rather than the makeup-wearing, long tongue-having, Gene Simmons-led band. Here he thought he had married a closet metalhead.
ADDENDUM FOR TVJ: Because I can't get into comments, I'll answer your question here. Yes, I think it's the same, or at least similar. Although we don't have Seacrest in the mornings, we have Valentine. I think he's a Seacrest wannabe. Anyway, they pipe him in from L.A. or god knows where. I'm willing to bet that our KISS is a complete knockoff of your KIIS.
Tuesday, January 11
Surprises
First Screech. Then Bad-Lady-in-Waiting (her last day is friday).
Who will complete the trifecta?
Something is a-brewin'... I just got wind of it...
I hate surprises.
*keeps fingers crossed that it is Bad Lady herself...*
I'll keep you posted.
UPDATE: No dice. It's not her. I'll never be rid of her!!!!!!!! NEVER!
First Screech. Then Bad-Lady-in-Waiting (her last day is friday).
Who will complete the trifecta?
Something is a-brewin'... I just got wind of it...
I hate surprises.
*keeps fingers crossed that it is Bad Lady herself...*
I'll keep you posted.
UPDATE: No dice. It's not her. I'll never be rid of her!!!!!!!! NEVER!
The birthday festivities continue...
Happy 31st birthday to a man who has long since abandoned trying to keep up with this blog, or keeping a blog of his own, my husband Owen.
I consider myself pretty lucky to have found someone who cooks dinner almost every night, and who will occasionally, of his own volition, clean the bathroom. (Lord knows I haven't cleaned it in... well, let's just say that the Olsen twins were still on "Full House".)
Anyway, to properly celebrate, we're going out for wings and beer (him) and wings and Sprite (me) tonight. Do we know how to party or what?
Happy 31st birthday to a man who has long since abandoned trying to keep up with this blog, or keeping a blog of his own, my husband Owen.
I consider myself pretty lucky to have found someone who cooks dinner almost every night, and who will occasionally, of his own volition, clean the bathroom. (Lord knows I haven't cleaned it in... well, let's just say that the Olsen twins were still on "Full House".)
Anyway, to properly celebrate, we're going out for wings and beer (him) and wings and Sprite (me) tonight. Do we know how to party or what?
Monday, January 10
Go me, it's my birthday
I turn 29 today. Twenty nine.
My mom was 29 when she had me, and I'll be 29 when I have my baby.
I also remember, growing up, that my grandmother never gave out her true age. She always said that she was 29.
So I have a feeling that this is going to be a special year for me.
It's already started out special. Jonesy surprised me with the Crazy Cat Lady Action Figure that I referenced back on December 9. Perhaps I'll pose it on my desk and take pics later.
I turn 29 today. Twenty nine.
My mom was 29 when she had me, and I'll be 29 when I have my baby.
I also remember, growing up, that my grandmother never gave out her true age. She always said that she was 29.
So I have a feeling that this is going to be a special year for me.
It's already started out special. Jonesy surprised me with the Crazy Cat Lady Action Figure that I referenced back on December 9. Perhaps I'll pose it on my desk and take pics later.
Friday, January 7
This is gonna be cool.
My friend Ann e-mailed me this article, which appeared in her local newspaper today:
Census Lists Renamed Lake As 'Butthead'
LAKE STEVENS, Wash. (AP) -- Someone in the Census Bureau
may be watching a little too much MTV. Bevis Lake, a
5.7-acre body of water in a forested area about 25 miles
northeast of Seattle, is now appearing in Bureau records
with a different name: Butthead Lake.
Those two names - Bevis and Butthead - are almost identical
to the 1990s MTV cartoon show "Beavis and Butt-head," which
featured a pair of slacker teenagers who watch music videos
and make bad jokes.
Someone at the Census Bureau must have gotten bored and
made a joke out of naming the lake, said Ken Brown, a land
surveyor with the state Department of Natural Resources.
"It's got to be," he said.
It's not unusual for small lakes in out-of-the-way places
to have different names because of variations in county,
state or other official records, but there are no such
indications in this case, Brown said.
"That means someone is playing a joke, I think," Brown
said.
My friend Ann e-mailed me this article, which appeared in her local newspaper today:
Census Lists Renamed Lake As 'Butthead'
LAKE STEVENS, Wash. (AP) -- Someone in the Census Bureau
may be watching a little too much MTV. Bevis Lake, a
5.7-acre body of water in a forested area about 25 miles
northeast of Seattle, is now appearing in Bureau records
with a different name: Butthead Lake.
Those two names - Bevis and Butthead - are almost identical
to the 1990s MTV cartoon show "Beavis and Butt-head," which
featured a pair of slacker teenagers who watch music videos
and make bad jokes.
Someone at the Census Bureau must have gotten bored and
made a joke out of naming the lake, said Ken Brown, a land
surveyor with the state Department of Natural Resources.
"It's got to be," he said.
It's not unusual for small lakes in out-of-the-way places
to have different names because of variations in county,
state or other official records, but there are no such
indications in this case, Brown said.
"That means someone is playing a joke, I think," Brown
said.
Tuesday, January 4
Saw-eet!
My #1 pick for a baby girl's name didn't even make the top 100 names as rated by BabyCenter.com. I'm not into the trendy girls' names. Still, I like the name I have picked out for my possible daughter. (Notice that #1: I am saying "I" picked the name. A recent discussion of baby names between my husband and I involved me saying, "How about ____?" and him saying, "Let me test it out. _____, cut the grass! Works fine for me!" And #2, I'm not telling you the names I've picked because they are subject to change and because I want to play that way, nyah nyah nyah boo boo.)
However, BOTH my boys' names are on the boy's list. One is in the top 20, and one is in the top 30. And I actually like quite a few of the top boys' names. But a few have already been boycotted, for various reasons.
First, there was Austin.
"AS IN POWERS?" my friend Amy said.
Yeah, baby. Scratch Austin.
Then my husband came up with "Shelby" for a girl. To me, Shelby is a Golden Retriever. That got nixed.
Brian was one of my favorite boy's names, but my husband has a cousin named Brian who isn't all entirely right in the head, so it just didn't seem appropriate.
Nor was naming a girl Lisa (after my husband's bitchy aunt).
I know that everyone wants a name that they can grab onto, monogram into little whosiwhatsits, tell everyone in the free world that their grandchild is going to be named ____. For some reason I feel that it's a more private thing between my husband and I, until we know for sure what we're having.
So I've taken to telling people, when they ask, that if it's a girl, she will be named Ethel, and a boy will be named Melvin.
And I don't tell them that I'm joking.
My #1 pick for a baby girl's name didn't even make the top 100 names as rated by BabyCenter.com. I'm not into the trendy girls' names. Still, I like the name I have picked out for my possible daughter. (Notice that #1: I am saying "I" picked the name. A recent discussion of baby names between my husband and I involved me saying, "How about ____?" and him saying, "Let me test it out. _____, cut the grass! Works fine for me!" And #2, I'm not telling you the names I've picked because they are subject to change and because I want to play that way, nyah nyah nyah boo boo.)
However, BOTH my boys' names are on the boy's list. One is in the top 20, and one is in the top 30. And I actually like quite a few of the top boys' names. But a few have already been boycotted, for various reasons.
First, there was Austin.
"AS IN POWERS?" my friend Amy said.
Yeah, baby. Scratch Austin.
Then my husband came up with "Shelby" for a girl. To me, Shelby is a Golden Retriever. That got nixed.
Brian was one of my favorite boy's names, but my husband has a cousin named Brian who isn't all entirely right in the head, so it just didn't seem appropriate.
Nor was naming a girl Lisa (after my husband's bitchy aunt).
I know that everyone wants a name that they can grab onto, monogram into little whosiwhatsits, tell everyone in the free world that their grandchild is going to be named ____. For some reason I feel that it's a more private thing between my husband and I, until we know for sure what we're having.
So I've taken to telling people, when they ask, that if it's a girl, she will be named Ethel, and a boy will be named Melvin.
And I don't tell them that I'm joking.
I said, good day
I got nothin' today.
I had this post all drafted about Wilmer Valderamma and how I thought that that was such a funny name, that it sounded more like an event that one would attend at the local county fair, right after the motocross.
But then I decided that no one except me would think that was funny.
Well, maybe one or two of you would think it was funny in a "chuckle chuckle" kind of way. I was envisioning people trying to come up with sentences using Wilmer Valderamma as some kind of new adjective, verb, or sexual innuendo.
In other news, Lionel Ritchie "Hello" is on Bad Lady's radio.
I got nothin' today.
I had this post all drafted about Wilmer Valderamma and how I thought that that was such a funny name, that it sounded more like an event that one would attend at the local county fair, right after the motocross.
But then I decided that no one except me would think that was funny.
Well, maybe one or two of you would think it was funny in a "chuckle chuckle" kind of way. I was envisioning people trying to come up with sentences using Wilmer Valderamma as some kind of new adjective, verb, or sexual innuendo.
In other news, Lionel Ritchie "Hello" is on Bad Lady's radio.
Sunday, January 2
Long weekend
For as much whining as I did on Friday, I will try not to rub it in that I have the day off tomorrow.
Had a good weekend, we removed all traces of Christmas from the house, so everything is back where it belongs. This really pleases the Rainman side of me that likes everything in its place.
I have some more shopping to do tomorrow, I have some gift certificates to burn. One is Bath and Body Works, of which I need more like I need a hole in the head, but they're having a SALE!!!!!!!!! *googly eyes*
I went to Borders today armed with a gift certificate and of course ended up spending more money than was on the gift card. By, like, twice the amount. Oops. I had to buy a 2005 calendar, which was interesting because the pickin's were slim. I almost bought the University of Michigan football calendar just to piss off my husband, but since they lost the Rose Bowl, I figured there was no reason to be a cocky Wolverine fan today. I was also tempted by the LeBron James calendar, but who in the hell wants to look at LeBron for 12 months? Curiously enough, my Borders also was selling Detroit Tigers and Detroit Lions calendars. Look, I know we're close to Lake Erie, but I don't know any Lions OR Tigers fans this side of Toledo. Odd.
Then there was the Sopranos calendar, which was tempting. But irrelevant.
The Lizzie McGuire calendar was, like, sooooooo cute, but, like, it's so five minutes ago. Ya know? *twirls hair*
In the end, I bought a vintage travel poster calendar. Which, incidentally, was the same calendar motif we had last year. Tres boring.
I also may have purchased a couple of other books. For instance, the Tom Wolfe book that I regifted to my sister-in-law -- I got myself a new copy. (Mum's the word on that one, btw). And I also got The Curious Incident of the Dog in Night-time, which the friendly cash register lady told me was very good.
I'll get around to reading those as soon as I clear out my current reading list: What To Expect When You're Expecting, The Hip Mama Survival Guide, The Girlfriend's Guide to Pregnancy, et. al. I think I was reading an actual novel, too, but I can't figure out where it went to.
For as much whining as I did on Friday, I will try not to rub it in that I have the day off tomorrow.
Had a good weekend, we removed all traces of Christmas from the house, so everything is back where it belongs. This really pleases the Rainman side of me that likes everything in its place.
I have some more shopping to do tomorrow, I have some gift certificates to burn. One is Bath and Body Works, of which I need more like I need a hole in the head, but they're having a SALE!!!!!!!!! *googly eyes*
I went to Borders today armed with a gift certificate and of course ended up spending more money than was on the gift card. By, like, twice the amount. Oops. I had to buy a 2005 calendar, which was interesting because the pickin's were slim. I almost bought the University of Michigan football calendar just to piss off my husband, but since they lost the Rose Bowl, I figured there was no reason to be a cocky Wolverine fan today. I was also tempted by the LeBron James calendar, but who in the hell wants to look at LeBron for 12 months? Curiously enough, my Borders also was selling Detroit Tigers and Detroit Lions calendars. Look, I know we're close to Lake Erie, but I don't know any Lions OR Tigers fans this side of Toledo. Odd.
Then there was the Sopranos calendar, which was tempting. But irrelevant.
The Lizzie McGuire calendar was, like, sooooooo cute, but, like, it's so five minutes ago. Ya know? *twirls hair*
In the end, I bought a vintage travel poster calendar. Which, incidentally, was the same calendar motif we had last year. Tres boring.
I also may have purchased a couple of other books. For instance, the Tom Wolfe book that I regifted to my sister-in-law -- I got myself a new copy. (Mum's the word on that one, btw). And I also got The Curious Incident of the Dog in Night-time, which the friendly cash register lady told me was very good.
I'll get around to reading those as soon as I clear out my current reading list: What To Expect When You're Expecting, The Hip Mama Survival Guide, The Girlfriend's Guide to Pregnancy, et. al. I think I was reading an actual novel, too, but I can't figure out where it went to.
Friday, December 31
Happy New Year
How are YOU spending your New Year's Eve? Perhaps many of you are still in bed.
Me?
Oh, I'm at work.
We don't get today off.
You see, the Accounting Department (I always knew those guys were trouble) needs to be here to close out year-end accounting stuff. The books. Or something.
So, because they have to be here, we ALL have to be here. I made it to work in a record 28 minutes. Hmm, I wonder if that's because I WAS THE ONLY CAR ON THE ROAD?
At least I have saved a half-day of vacation, so I'll be outa here sometime in the noonish hour.
/end bitterness
Happy New Year everybody! See ya in the '05.
How are YOU spending your New Year's Eve? Perhaps many of you are still in bed.
Me?
Oh, I'm at work.
We don't get today off.
You see, the Accounting Department (I always knew those guys were trouble) needs to be here to close out year-end accounting stuff. The books. Or something.
So, because they have to be here, we ALL have to be here. I made it to work in a record 28 minutes. Hmm, I wonder if that's because I WAS THE ONLY CAR ON THE ROAD?
At least I have saved a half-day of vacation, so I'll be outa here sometime in the noonish hour.
/end bitterness
Happy New Year everybody! See ya in the '05.
Thursday, December 30
So this part really sucks
I failed my glucose test. FAILED IT!!!!!
So now I have to go to the hospital on Wednesday for a three-hour tour -- I mean test -- so we can find out just how bad it's going to get. Gestational diabetes? Probably. Full-blown diabetes? Maybe not now but probably in the future, since it's in my family history and if I have the gestational kind I'll probably get the real kind at some point.
I'm trying not to freak out about it. Maybe it's nothing. Or maybe I'll just have to modify my diet. What I'm most worried about, and it shows you what a selfish bitch I really am, is whether or not I'll still be able to drink a Diet Coke every day. Because this would be right up there with the apocolypse as far as I am concerned.
I failed my glucose test. FAILED IT!!!!!
So now I have to go to the hospital on Wednesday for a three-hour tour -- I mean test -- so we can find out just how bad it's going to get. Gestational diabetes? Probably. Full-blown diabetes? Maybe not now but probably in the future, since it's in my family history and if I have the gestational kind I'll probably get the real kind at some point.
I'm trying not to freak out about it. Maybe it's nothing. Or maybe I'll just have to modify my diet. What I'm most worried about, and it shows you what a selfish bitch I really am, is whether or not I'll still be able to drink a Diet Coke every day. Because this would be right up there with the apocolypse as far as I am concerned.
You complete me
I hate to even admit this, but I find that when Incompetent But Likeable is not in the office, my work day is missing something.
He has been on vacation for the past few days, and it just wasn't the same around here. I need his constant pacing, his humming and singing of random tunes such as "The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round", and his useage of terms such as "gosh darn" and "doggone" and "jeez oh man."
It just balances off my stress level to have him be a different kind of crazy.
I hate to even admit this, but I find that when Incompetent But Likeable is not in the office, my work day is missing something.
He has been on vacation for the past few days, and it just wasn't the same around here. I need his constant pacing, his humming and singing of random tunes such as "The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round", and his useage of terms such as "gosh darn" and "doggone" and "jeez oh man."
It just balances off my stress level to have him be a different kind of crazy.
Wednesday, December 29
I promised myself that I wouldn't become one of these people, but it's happened anyway
I know that no one cares, but I'm starting to put together ideas and plans for the baby's room. I'm going with a moon and stars kind of thing that will work for a boy or a girl. So here is the first piece in the puzzle, courtesy of Pottery Barn Kids...
They're curtain rods for the windows, and then I'll get either the sheer star curtains that PBK has or some solid denim-colored curtains, also offered at PBK.
I didn't want to become one of these people obsessed with a "theme" for a baby's room, but, oh well. It must be something in the hormones.
I know that no one cares, but I'm starting to put together ideas and plans for the baby's room. I'm going with a moon and stars kind of thing that will work for a boy or a girl. So here is the first piece in the puzzle, courtesy of Pottery Barn Kids...
They're curtain rods for the windows, and then I'll get either the sheer star curtains that PBK has or some solid denim-colored curtains, also offered at PBK.
I didn't want to become one of these people obsessed with a "theme" for a baby's room, but, oh well. It must be something in the hormones.
Tuesday, December 28
Complications
Ok, my main goal in posting this is for some kind soul to comment that everything that I have posted about is normal and that I, for the most part, shouldn't worry.
I had my second pre-natal appointment this morning, wherein I got the results back from the bloodwork they did last time. This was after they attempted to get the baby's heartbeat with the heart monitor wand thingy and couldn't, so they shuffled me off to the ultrasound room, where everything was found to be normal (thank goodness -- except the baby looks even less humanoid than last time they did the ultrasound ... did I mate with E.T. and not realize it?).
However, some things came back from my blood test that weren't so normal... one being my blood sugar level. So I had to drink this orange pop stuff and they drew more blood to test for gestational diabetes. If that comes back high, and it probably will since I've been eating crappily since Christmas Eve, I have to go in to the hospital for a longer test to pinpoint whether it's gestational or actual full-blown diabetes. Lovely.
Also, my iron levels are very low, so I'm going on a supplement. They said that my iron level was typical of someone at 24 weeks, and I am almost at 12. Not good. But I knew that I was slightly anemic, so not a big deal I guess.
The triple whammy was that my blood type is negative, and that means, I get a big shot in my ass when I'm farther along.
Not to mention that I then got the full-blown, in-the-stirrups exam and all that entails. All in all, a banner trip to the ob/gyn.
Ok, my main goal in posting this is for some kind soul to comment that everything that I have posted about is normal and that I, for the most part, shouldn't worry.
I had my second pre-natal appointment this morning, wherein I got the results back from the bloodwork they did last time. This was after they attempted to get the baby's heartbeat with the heart monitor wand thingy and couldn't, so they shuffled me off to the ultrasound room, where everything was found to be normal (thank goodness -- except the baby looks even less humanoid than last time they did the ultrasound ... did I mate with E.T. and not realize it?).
However, some things came back from my blood test that weren't so normal... one being my blood sugar level. So I had to drink this orange pop stuff and they drew more blood to test for gestational diabetes. If that comes back high, and it probably will since I've been eating crappily since Christmas Eve, I have to go in to the hospital for a longer test to pinpoint whether it's gestational or actual full-blown diabetes. Lovely.
Also, my iron levels are very low, so I'm going on a supplement. They said that my iron level was typical of someone at 24 weeks, and I am almost at 12. Not good. But I knew that I was slightly anemic, so not a big deal I guess.
The triple whammy was that my blood type is negative, and that means, I get a big shot in my ass when I'm farther along.
Not to mention that I then got the full-blown, in-the-stirrups exam and all that entails. All in all, a banner trip to the ob/gyn.
Holiday recap
Here we go...
The past few days have been a blur, beginning Wednesday night with my slippery trip to the store for cookie ingredients, then Thursday's cookie baking, and Friday's frenzied cookie baking. I got off scot-free with the herring, no excuse needed, on Christmas Eve.
On Christmas Day we started off the morning at my in-law's, and then headed to my mom's for brunch. We arrived back at my in-law's and were there for the evening. My husband's dad's side of the family was there, and the men far outnumbered the women. There were my husband and his two brothers, plus three brothers of my husband's aunt and uncle, for a total of 6 men between the ages of 18 and 32 (isn't that a demographic group?).
Well, put together six men between the ages of 18 and 32 with about 40 beers, not to mention (yo ho ho and a) bottle of rum, and let the fun begin. There is much speculation about the bottle of rum, but the only one who appeared to drink it was my 18 year old brother in law. And he was probably the most sober in the group.
The Christmas party was rolling along just fine on its own. There were spirited conversations about how much the Browns suck, how much certain players on the Cavs suck (Zydrunas Ilgauskas, I'm looking at you), how much certain players on the Indians suck (we picked up Jason Bere AGAIN?), and other various topics. Everyone was laughing and enjoying each other's company, when my husband's uncle Mike brought out the karaoke machine.
Karaoke
Oh crap. Karaoke. It's funny at first because uncle Mike does the first song and he puts a "robot voice" filter on, and great hilarity ensues. Owen's aunt does the next song, Abba's "Dancing Queen," and we are rolling with laughter. A few other people begrudgingly take the mike and do various crowd-pleasing songs, and it's still funny to me because I'm laughing at other people's expense.
Owen's aunt is adamant that everyone take a turn, but I'm still laughing because I'm thinking that someone else will refuse and the whole karaoke thing will die down.
But my stoic, non-fun father-in-law takes the mike and does "New York New York," and I know I'm fucked. Suddenly this is not funny anymore, because I realize that I am going to have to choose a song to do and these are my in-laws and I've married into this family and am carrying a child so I can't run away and join the witness protection program when this is over.
I consider myself a decent singer; I can carry a tune. But I don't like being put on the spot. Luckily I chose the Temptations' "My Girl" and everyone sang along with me, so it wasn't so bad. And it made my brother-in-law's rendition of Britney's "Oops I Did It Again" so much funnier after the burden of karaokeing was lifted from my shoulders.
Finally after everyone had a turn, we returned to normal Christmas conversation. Which is pretty much when the 18-to-32 year old male contingent had gathered in the kitchen. By this time the beers had been flowing pretty heavily. They were trying to decide whether or not someone should eat the last pierogie which was languishing in its bowl, and had been for several hours. It had coagulated in butter and had hardened into a greasy, artery-clogging glob. My husband, the man to whom I pledged "to death do us part," declared, "Why not? It's Christmas!" and popped the pierogie into his mouth and ate it in one bite.
Fifteen minutes later, he plopped down next to me, his eyes glazed over, and informed me that he was "right on the edge."
"You're way over the edge, pal," I told him. Sure enough, several seconds later, he was nowhere to be found.
Turns out he was yakking in the upstairs bathroom.
Barfing husband
The beer ran out, and thus the party began to break up. One of my husband's cousins picked up my husband's shoes and handed them to his girlfriend, thinking they were hers, even though she had already put her shoes on. Same thing for my purse, which he gave to her. I'm surprised he didn't try to roll the piano out of the house. They wanted to say goodbye to my husband, but he was nowhere to be seen. That's because he was still praying to the porcelain god.
And there he stayed, long after the last guest left, and we all took turns going up there to knock just to see if he was still alive. I was seriously envisioning a trip to the emergency room. Finally, after about 2 1/2 hours of waiting, we finally got him out, got his coat and shoes on, and I transported his drunk ass home and got him into bed.
I let him sleep until noon the next day and then went in to make sure he was breathing, as I had done several times during the night. I wasn't sure if we were going to make it to my dad's. I would have just gone by myself, except that my car was buried under at least a foot of snow, and at least a two-inch thick layer of ice.
Ice, ice baby
So he got his act together and we drove his four-wheel drive vehicle (thank goodness we had it or we might not have left the driveway at all on Christmas) to my dad's, about an hour away. That was a more subdued event, with everyone poking my stomach and asking questions about the baby that I haven't even had time nor the inkling to ponder yet.
The baby got lots of Christmas stuff, too. So far the baby has four outfits, some toys, and a bassinet. And I got lots of maternity clothes.
It was a whirlwind weekend, and then I had to get up at the buttcrack o' dawn to travel with my boss to Steelerstown. Those little shits in Pennsylvania got a dusting of snow. You can see the grass for heaven's sakes! Memo to self: move away from the lake. Lake? Bad. No lake? Good.
There's much more to report, but it's also lunch time, and I am making a grilled cheese sandwich in our toaster oven in the work kitchen, so it shall have to wait until later.
Here we go...
The past few days have been a blur, beginning Wednesday night with my slippery trip to the store for cookie ingredients, then Thursday's cookie baking, and Friday's frenzied cookie baking. I got off scot-free with the herring, no excuse needed, on Christmas Eve.
On Christmas Day we started off the morning at my in-law's, and then headed to my mom's for brunch. We arrived back at my in-law's and were there for the evening. My husband's dad's side of the family was there, and the men far outnumbered the women. There were my husband and his two brothers, plus three brothers of my husband's aunt and uncle, for a total of 6 men between the ages of 18 and 32 (isn't that a demographic group?).
Well, put together six men between the ages of 18 and 32 with about 40 beers, not to mention (yo ho ho and a) bottle of rum, and let the fun begin. There is much speculation about the bottle of rum, but the only one who appeared to drink it was my 18 year old brother in law. And he was probably the most sober in the group.
The Christmas party was rolling along just fine on its own. There were spirited conversations about how much the Browns suck, how much certain players on the Cavs suck (Zydrunas Ilgauskas, I'm looking at you), how much certain players on the Indians suck (we picked up Jason Bere AGAIN?), and other various topics. Everyone was laughing and enjoying each other's company, when my husband's uncle Mike brought out the karaoke machine.
Karaoke
Oh crap. Karaoke. It's funny at first because uncle Mike does the first song and he puts a "robot voice" filter on, and great hilarity ensues. Owen's aunt does the next song, Abba's "Dancing Queen," and we are rolling with laughter. A few other people begrudgingly take the mike and do various crowd-pleasing songs, and it's still funny to me because I'm laughing at other people's expense.
Owen's aunt is adamant that everyone take a turn, but I'm still laughing because I'm thinking that someone else will refuse and the whole karaoke thing will die down.
But my stoic, non-fun father-in-law takes the mike and does "New York New York," and I know I'm fucked. Suddenly this is not funny anymore, because I realize that I am going to have to choose a song to do and these are my in-laws and I've married into this family and am carrying a child so I can't run away and join the witness protection program when this is over.
I consider myself a decent singer; I can carry a tune. But I don't like being put on the spot. Luckily I chose the Temptations' "My Girl" and everyone sang along with me, so it wasn't so bad. And it made my brother-in-law's rendition of Britney's "Oops I Did It Again" so much funnier after the burden of karaokeing was lifted from my shoulders.
Finally after everyone had a turn, we returned to normal Christmas conversation. Which is pretty much when the 18-to-32 year old male contingent had gathered in the kitchen. By this time the beers had been flowing pretty heavily. They were trying to decide whether or not someone should eat the last pierogie which was languishing in its bowl, and had been for several hours. It had coagulated in butter and had hardened into a greasy, artery-clogging glob. My husband, the man to whom I pledged "to death do us part," declared, "Why not? It's Christmas!" and popped the pierogie into his mouth and ate it in one bite.
Fifteen minutes later, he plopped down next to me, his eyes glazed over, and informed me that he was "right on the edge."
"You're way over the edge, pal," I told him. Sure enough, several seconds later, he was nowhere to be found.
Turns out he was yakking in the upstairs bathroom.
Barfing husband
The beer ran out, and thus the party began to break up. One of my husband's cousins picked up my husband's shoes and handed them to his girlfriend, thinking they were hers, even though she had already put her shoes on. Same thing for my purse, which he gave to her. I'm surprised he didn't try to roll the piano out of the house. They wanted to say goodbye to my husband, but he was nowhere to be seen. That's because he was still praying to the porcelain god.
And there he stayed, long after the last guest left, and we all took turns going up there to knock just to see if he was still alive. I was seriously envisioning a trip to the emergency room. Finally, after about 2 1/2 hours of waiting, we finally got him out, got his coat and shoes on, and I transported his drunk ass home and got him into bed.
I let him sleep until noon the next day and then went in to make sure he was breathing, as I had done several times during the night. I wasn't sure if we were going to make it to my dad's. I would have just gone by myself, except that my car was buried under at least a foot of snow, and at least a two-inch thick layer of ice.
Ice, ice baby
So he got his act together and we drove his four-wheel drive vehicle (thank goodness we had it or we might not have left the driveway at all on Christmas) to my dad's, about an hour away. That was a more subdued event, with everyone poking my stomach and asking questions about the baby that I haven't even had time nor the inkling to ponder yet.
The baby got lots of Christmas stuff, too. So far the baby has four outfits, some toys, and a bassinet. And I got lots of maternity clothes.
It was a whirlwind weekend, and then I had to get up at the buttcrack o' dawn to travel with my boss to Steelerstown. Those little shits in Pennsylvania got a dusting of snow. You can see the grass for heaven's sakes! Memo to self: move away from the lake. Lake? Bad. No lake? Good.
There's much more to report, but it's also lunch time, and I am making a grilled cheese sandwich in our toaster oven in the work kitchen, so it shall have to wait until later.
Sunday, December 26
Recaplet: Christmas
When I get some time I'll post at length about the past few days' adventures, but I'll give you a few teaser bullet points now to whet your whistles...
When I get some time I'll post at length about the past few days' adventures, but I'll give you a few teaser bullet points now to whet your whistles...
- Karaoke
- Barfing husband
- Ice, ice baby
Meanwhile, tomorrow, I'll be driving to Pittsburgh with my boss to attend a meeting, and then driving back. Oh, and I'll be meeting my boss in my office parking lot AT 7 A.M. Won't that be a lovely way to start off the week!
Friday, December 24
Cookie tally
Here's what we've done so far:
1 batch of butter cookie dough: has chilled overnight and is ready to be rolled
1 batch of snickerdoodle dough: has chilled overnight and is ready to be baked
1 batch of peanut butter Hershey kiss cookies: done (and Mr. Bulky did not have the unwrapped kisses so I had to do that by hand -- grr)
2 batches of peppermint bark: done
1 batch of peppermink bark: ruined (poured into a glass baking dish to dry and it wouldn't come out
1 batch of buckeyes: ruined (consistency not solid enough, globs of peanut butter mixture fell into chocolate and had to be retrieved by hand)
Sister in law: on her way over for round two
Now for tonight, I need a fresh excuse not to partake in my husband's grandmother's pickled herring. I'm going to try to play the pregnancy card and see how that flies. I've never had to eat it before, though, so why tarnish my perfect record?
Happy Holidays to all!
Here's what we've done so far:
1 batch of butter cookie dough: has chilled overnight and is ready to be rolled
1 batch of snickerdoodle dough: has chilled overnight and is ready to be baked
1 batch of peanut butter Hershey kiss cookies: done (and Mr. Bulky did not have the unwrapped kisses so I had to do that by hand -- grr)
2 batches of peppermint bark: done
1 batch of peppermink bark: ruined (poured into a glass baking dish to dry and it wouldn't come out
1 batch of buckeyes: ruined (consistency not solid enough, globs of peanut butter mixture fell into chocolate and had to be retrieved by hand)
Sister in law: on her way over for round two
Now for tonight, I need a fresh excuse not to partake in my husband's grandmother's pickled herring. I'm going to try to play the pregnancy card and see how that flies. I've never had to eat it before, though, so why tarnish my perfect record?
Happy Holidays to all!
Wednesday, December 22
It's snow joke
Last night when I arrived home from work, my husband was in possibly the worst state of depression that I had ever seen him in. And it was all because some asshat on the radio predicted up to EIGHTEEN inches of snow.
I turned on the local news and my trustworthy Channel 3 weatherman was only calling for about 2 to 4 inches spread out over the entire day.
Which brings me to my point: I think that weatherpeople should be physically punished for reporting gross inaccuracies in their forecasts. Every winter we go through this. Some snow-happy meteorologist tells the viewing audience that this is going to be one of the worst storms of the century, that we haven't seen snow like this since Rutherford B. Hayes was President, and that if we have to drive, we should not do so under any circumstances because we will most certainly become stuck in a snow drift for days before anyone can rescue us and we'll have to survive off of the months-old french fry that we find underneath the driver's seat. We go to bed that night and wake up prepared for the worst, only to open the window blinds and find a dusting of snow and clear roads.
I'm thinking a public flogging would do nicely. Or maybe just a giant dunk tank that people can come take free throws at.
Although, the snow is coming down at a pretty good clip right now.
Last night when I arrived home from work, my husband was in possibly the worst state of depression that I had ever seen him in. And it was all because some asshat on the radio predicted up to EIGHTEEN inches of snow.
I turned on the local news and my trustworthy Channel 3 weatherman was only calling for about 2 to 4 inches spread out over the entire day.
Which brings me to my point: I think that weatherpeople should be physically punished for reporting gross inaccuracies in their forecasts. Every winter we go through this. Some snow-happy meteorologist tells the viewing audience that this is going to be one of the worst storms of the century, that we haven't seen snow like this since Rutherford B. Hayes was President, and that if we have to drive, we should not do so under any circumstances because we will most certainly become stuck in a snow drift for days before anyone can rescue us and we'll have to survive off of the months-old french fry that we find underneath the driver's seat. We go to bed that night and wake up prepared for the worst, only to open the window blinds and find a dusting of snow and clear roads.
I'm thinking a public flogging would do nicely. Or maybe just a giant dunk tank that people can come take free throws at.
Although, the snow is coming down at a pretty good clip right now.
Tuesday, December 21
My God, what have I done?
Maybe it's because we haven't spent that much money on Christmas presents this year, but in some kind of guilt-tripped stupor, I volunteered myself and my unreliable sister-in-law, so really just myself, to make the Christmas cookies this year.
And I'm not just talking about your Christmas cutout sugar cookies. I'm talking peanut butter cookies with a hershey kiss in the middle, snickerdoodles (which I'm told are some kind of cinnamon cookie -- MPF), buckeyes, peppermint bark, and probably something else I'm forgetting.
This is no small task, as you might imagine. It's a three-day affair. Beginning tomorrow with...
SHOPPING.
*cues eerie music*
I will travel to a store called, no joke, "Mr. Bulky," in search of chocolate and peppermint. Then to the grocery store for the other cookie-making ingredients. Then I will go home and delve into the GIANT TIN OF POTATO CHIPS my aunt sent us yesterday.
On Thursday, our task will be...
DOUGH MAKING
*a woman screams somewhere in the distance*
I am out of my element when it comes to this kind of stuff. I don't even think I own a rolling pin. Shit!
Also on Thursday, I will see what is left in the GIANT TIN OF POTATO CHIPS.
Finally, Friday will be the
MARATHON BAKING SESSION.
This may actually begin Thursday night. We have to be at my husband's grandparents' house on Friday afternoon, so time is tight. If there are chips left in the GIANT TIN OF POTATO CHIPS, they will be finished off.
Then, there is the
BAGGING OF THE COOKIES!
Someone please tell me why I did this to myself.
Maybe it's because we haven't spent that much money on Christmas presents this year, but in some kind of guilt-tripped stupor, I volunteered myself and my unreliable sister-in-law, so really just myself, to make the Christmas cookies this year.
And I'm not just talking about your Christmas cutout sugar cookies. I'm talking peanut butter cookies with a hershey kiss in the middle, snickerdoodles (which I'm told are some kind of cinnamon cookie -- MPF), buckeyes, peppermint bark, and probably something else I'm forgetting.
This is no small task, as you might imagine. It's a three-day affair. Beginning tomorrow with...
SHOPPING.
*cues eerie music*
I will travel to a store called, no joke, "Mr. Bulky," in search of chocolate and peppermint. Then to the grocery store for the other cookie-making ingredients. Then I will go home and delve into the GIANT TIN OF POTATO CHIPS my aunt sent us yesterday.
On Thursday, our task will be...
DOUGH MAKING
*a woman screams somewhere in the distance*
I am out of my element when it comes to this kind of stuff. I don't even think I own a rolling pin. Shit!
Also on Thursday, I will see what is left in the GIANT TIN OF POTATO CHIPS.
Finally, Friday will be the
MARATHON BAKING SESSION.
This may actually begin Thursday night. We have to be at my husband's grandparents' house on Friday afternoon, so time is tight. If there are chips left in the GIANT TIN OF POTATO CHIPS, they will be finished off.
Then, there is the
BAGGING OF THE COOKIES!
Someone please tell me why I did this to myself.
Monday, December 20
Phew!
I told my boss. It's all over! Yay! Everyone knows now!
He was happy for me, and then came back to reality and realized that I'd be out when nothing major was hitting, so it was all OK in his book.
Then we walked out of his office and I stopped to peruse the many boxes of chocolate we've gotten from vendors and he says, loudly, "Take all you want! You ARE eating for two now!" So in case anyone didn't know, they knew now.
Hee. And yay! Even Bad Lady mustered up some congratulations for me! Incompetent but Likeable said it was "neat."
And you know what? He's right.
I told my boss. It's all over! Yay! Everyone knows now!
He was happy for me, and then came back to reality and realized that I'd be out when nothing major was hitting, so it was all OK in his book.
Then we walked out of his office and I stopped to peruse the many boxes of chocolate we've gotten from vendors and he says, loudly, "Take all you want! You ARE eating for two now!" So in case anyone didn't know, they knew now.
Hee. And yay! Even Bad Lady mustered up some congratulations for me! Incompetent but Likeable said it was "neat."
And you know what? He's right.
Now it can be told
I'm a tricky bitch, aren't I?
I haven't told him yet but I'll tell you guys...
Yep, I am about 2 1/2 months pregnant, my due date is July 14th. I have known for about a month, I have had my first ultrasound, and I'm going back next week for some kind of checkup thing.
The whole thing is still kind of an abstract concept to me, but everyone around me is talking about bassinets and maternity clothes and I'm only vaguely comprehending the idea that there's something inside me that is eventually going to be able to cut the grass so my husband won't have to. I'm just barely catching on that I will have full responsibility for the care and upbringing of another human being. Thankfully I have a great family who are all very excited. This will be the first grandchild for both my parents and my husband's parents, so we're just going to give up any hope that s/he won't be spoiled, because there's not a chance.
I'm sure that in the upcoming months I'll be looking for advice from all of you moms out there, as soon as I kind of figure this whole thing out.
Now wish me luck -- as I will definitely need it. Both for talking to the boss and for the rest of the seven+ months of this journey that I'm about to take.
I'm a tricky bitch, aren't I?
I haven't told him yet but I'll tell you guys...
Yep, I am about 2 1/2 months pregnant, my due date is July 14th. I have known for about a month, I have had my first ultrasound, and I'm going back next week for some kind of checkup thing.
The whole thing is still kind of an abstract concept to me, but everyone around me is talking about bassinets and maternity clothes and I'm only vaguely comprehending the idea that there's something inside me that is eventually going to be able to cut the grass so my husband won't have to. I'm just barely catching on that I will have full responsibility for the care and upbringing of another human being. Thankfully I have a great family who are all very excited. This will be the first grandchild for both my parents and my husband's parents, so we're just going to give up any hope that s/he won't be spoiled, because there's not a chance.
I'm sure that in the upcoming months I'll be looking for advice from all of you moms out there, as soon as I kind of figure this whole thing out.
Now wish me luck -- as I will definitely need it. Both for talking to the boss and for the rest of the seven+ months of this journey that I'm about to take.
Friday, December 17
Red alert
OK, look, the elf hat thing didn't happen. I ended up getting suckered into selling those damn Lance Armstrong wristband bracelet things for charity, and those things went like hotcakes. But anyway, forget about the elf hat for now, we've got a workplace update, and it's a good one!
It has not been 100% confirmed, but I think Screech resigned at the end of the day today.
Long story short: another job offer came her way earlier this week. She was overheard by several people talking about it. One of those people went in and reported it to my boss. I have pretty good reason to believe that it was Bad Lady, because, man, that shit's right up her alley. Yeah, Screech should have been more careful, but man, that's pretty low to run in and tattle-tale to the boss. Especially since we thought a few weeks ago that Bad Lady was looking for another job.
And then add to that that Screech received a fax on our office fax machine from her new employer, which somehow also ended up in my boss' hands. Yikes. Bad move.
So there was this huge, tearful confrontation yesterday, and she was supposed to tell him today what she was doing.
I left early so I didn't hear the outcome, but it looked like she was going to leave. I mean, at this point, she's already pretty much screwed her credibility here, so, it's probably for the best that she goes.
That drama will continue on Monday.
And the timing couldn't be worse as far as I'm concerned, because I'm planning on dropping a bombshell of my own on Monday ...
TO BE CONTINUED
OK, look, the elf hat thing didn't happen. I ended up getting suckered into selling those damn Lance Armstrong wristband bracelet things for charity, and those things went like hotcakes. But anyway, forget about the elf hat for now, we've got a workplace update, and it's a good one!
It has not been 100% confirmed, but I think Screech resigned at the end of the day today.
Long story short: another job offer came her way earlier this week. She was overheard by several people talking about it. One of those people went in and reported it to my boss. I have pretty good reason to believe that it was Bad Lady, because, man, that shit's right up her alley. Yeah, Screech should have been more careful, but man, that's pretty low to run in and tattle-tale to the boss. Especially since we thought a few weeks ago that Bad Lady was looking for another job.
And then add to that that Screech received a fax on our office fax machine from her new employer, which somehow also ended up in my boss' hands. Yikes. Bad move.
So there was this huge, tearful confrontation yesterday, and she was supposed to tell him today what she was doing.
I left early so I didn't hear the outcome, but it looked like she was going to leave. I mean, at this point, she's already pretty much screwed her credibility here, so, it's probably for the best that she goes.
That drama will continue on Monday.
And the timing couldn't be worse as far as I'm concerned, because I'm planning on dropping a bombshell of my own on Monday ...
TO BE CONTINUED
Thursday, December 16
Headache from Hell
If I've seemed grumpier than usual this week (what's that you say? I'm always grumpy? So this week I was not discernibly grumpier than my usual, grumpy self?), it is because I have been plagued by the Headache from Hell.
Wait, that wasn't dramatic enough...
It is because I have been plagued by the Headache...
FROM HELL!!!!!!
The Headache from Hell arrived last Friday, and its bags were packed for more than just an overnighter. This mo' fo' brought furniture and made itself at home.
Tylenol was no match for this bad boy, as it scoffed at the mere mention of acetominophin. It giggled childishly as it made my head throb with every sudden movement. It relished in my pain.
HFH was my steady companion all weekend, coming and going as it pleased, but never disappearing completely. On Monday, I took HFH to work with me. Tuesday, HFH was still my constant companion. On Tuesday afternoon I had had enough and took the afternoon off, went home, and slept. THAT scared the crap out of HFH. Apparently, sleep is HFH's arch-nemesis.
So on Wednesday, HFH left me alone. I thought that I had finally beaten it into submission, and that we had parted ways.
Not so fast.
Today, I woke up, feeling fine and well-rested. And that's when there was a knock at the door, and there, standing at the doorstep with more luggage, was the Headache...
FROM HELL!!!!!! (part two, HFH Takes Manhattan)
This time, it's personal.
If I've seemed grumpier than usual this week (what's that you say? I'm always grumpy? So this week I was not discernibly grumpier than my usual, grumpy self?), it is because I have been plagued by the Headache from Hell.
Wait, that wasn't dramatic enough...
It is because I have been plagued by the Headache...
FROM HELL!!!!!!
The Headache from Hell arrived last Friday, and its bags were packed for more than just an overnighter. This mo' fo' brought furniture and made itself at home.
Tylenol was no match for this bad boy, as it scoffed at the mere mention of acetominophin. It giggled childishly as it made my head throb with every sudden movement. It relished in my pain.
HFH was my steady companion all weekend, coming and going as it pleased, but never disappearing completely. On Monday, I took HFH to work with me. Tuesday, HFH was still my constant companion. On Tuesday afternoon I had had enough and took the afternoon off, went home, and slept. THAT scared the crap out of HFH. Apparently, sleep is HFH's arch-nemesis.
So on Wednesday, HFH left me alone. I thought that I had finally beaten it into submission, and that we had parted ways.
Not so fast.
Today, I woke up, feeling fine and well-rested. And that's when there was a knock at the door, and there, standing at the doorstep with more luggage, was the Headache...
FROM HELL!!!!!! (part two, HFH Takes Manhattan)
This time, it's personal.
I'm Lost
Last night, for lack of any quality Wednesday programming, I decided to try and tune in to ABC's Lost to see if I could figure out what was going on. I've heard good things about this show but missed the premiere and all subsequent episodes, so I was not so sure that I could pick it up mid-season and know what was going on.
As luck would have it, the pilot episode was being re-run last night, so know I have a basic understanding of the premise. It's a cool, weird, scary, messed up show.
Someone please catch me up so I can feel like one of the cool kids who's in the know!
Last night, for lack of any quality Wednesday programming, I decided to try and tune in to ABC's Lost to see if I could figure out what was going on. I've heard good things about this show but missed the premiere and all subsequent episodes, so I was not so sure that I could pick it up mid-season and know what was going on.
As luck would have it, the pilot episode was being re-run last night, so know I have a basic understanding of the premise. It's a cool, weird, scary, messed up show.
Someone please catch me up so I can feel like one of the cool kids who's in the know!
Wednesday, December 15
Petty Home-Based Annoyance of the Day
As you know, I have two cats. Cats who occasionally do bad things, like drag up my dirty underwear from the basement (Dom) or lick the inside of my glass of milk while I'm still drinking it (Molly).
Please, someone, explain to me, why it is that I have laminate flooring in my kitchen, hardwood flooring in the upstairs office as well as our spare bedroom where their food is, but whenever they feel the need to let a hairball go, they do it on the carpet? And always in a spot where I don't see it until it's been sitting for several days (such as in the living room underneath the coffee table)? Can't they just hack up their hairballs on an easier-to-clean surface?
*sigh*
And I'm sure that this is just practice for the day a child enters my life...
As you know, I have two cats. Cats who occasionally do bad things, like drag up my dirty underwear from the basement (Dom) or lick the inside of my glass of milk while I'm still drinking it (Molly).
Please, someone, explain to me, why it is that I have laminate flooring in my kitchen, hardwood flooring in the upstairs office as well as our spare bedroom where their food is, but whenever they feel the need to let a hairball go, they do it on the carpet? And always in a spot where I don't see it until it's been sitting for several days (such as in the living room underneath the coffee table)? Can't they just hack up their hairballs on an easier-to-clean surface?
*sigh*
And I'm sure that this is just practice for the day a child enters my life...
Tuesday, December 14
Fa la la la f-you
It's the most annoying commute of the year!
Where my tires are a-slidin' and I'm white-knuckle drivin'
To get my ass here....
It's the most annoying commute of the year.
I'm not a fan of the snow. Never have been, never will, and I know that I have no right to whine about it because I choose to live in Ohio, but... I. Fucking. HATE IT!!!!!!!!
Last night's drive home: 2 hours, 15 minutes. Most of which was spent on the road where my office is, trying to get on the highway.
This morning's commute into work: 1 hour, 20 minutes. Most of which was spent in so-called rubbernecker delays. Nothing pisses me off more than a rubbernecker delay. Ooh! Look! A car has spun off into the median! Look! A person is sitting inside the car, smoking a cigarette! Wow. Oh look! Another one spun off! Wow. I have NEVER seen anything like this before! My goodness.
By the fourth car that has spun off the road, I'm over it. Yeah, I rubbernecked at the first one. I figure, everyone else is looking at it, why shouldn't I take a gander as well?
My greatest fear, however, is the dreaded Black Ice. Wouldn't that be a great name for a female African American wrestler? Or someone on American Gladiators? Oh Lord, the black ice scares the crap out of me. Because I know from experience that you don't have to be going too fast to do a shit-ton of damage to your car if you hit a patch of it. The black ice is what keeps me going a at a snail's pace, leaving about 15 car lengths between myself and the car in front of me, and gripping the wheel extra tight when a truck passes me to the left.
So I guess winter has finally arrived. I had totally convinced myself that we were going to get off scot-free this winter. That global warming stuff, if it could just center itself over northeast Ohio, that would be cool with me. Warm us up to about Hawaii's temperature? Yeah. That'll work.
But even worse than my commute to work today... the cherry on top of my already shitty mood... me and Bad Lady are wearing the EXACT SAME sweater. I accessorized mine with a brown jacket, but there's no mistaking it. Dammit, I just bought this sweater, too. And it's cute as hell. But there's no excuse -- the sweater must be burned.
Oh, and I didn't even tell you about yesterday! Let's see... get to work, and the power's out. Walk up four dark flights of stairs (exercise? bah humbug) and overhear one of the Presidents tell my boss that he is leaving, and that my boss has to make an "executive decision" whether or not to let us go home. By all estimations, they have heard that it will be 4 to 5 hours before the power comes on because some transformer blew or something. So we wait. And we wait. My boss says nothing to us.
We clean our desks. We file. We sit around and bullshit and whine.
It's 11 a.m., and we're still without power. The backup power is also out at this point. We are beginning to form an angry mob. We've all decided that we are leaving, because the day is going to be a total waste.
With that, the lights flicker on. We learn later that another President had called in to his assistant and told her to tell everyone to go home. We were that close!
And then the snow started. And you know the rest.
Happy holidays.
It's the most annoying commute of the year!
Where my tires are a-slidin' and I'm white-knuckle drivin'
To get my ass here....
It's the most annoying commute of the year.
I'm not a fan of the snow. Never have been, never will, and I know that I have no right to whine about it because I choose to live in Ohio, but... I. Fucking. HATE IT!!!!!!!!
Last night's drive home: 2 hours, 15 minutes. Most of which was spent on the road where my office is, trying to get on the highway.
This morning's commute into work: 1 hour, 20 minutes. Most of which was spent in so-called rubbernecker delays. Nothing pisses me off more than a rubbernecker delay. Ooh! Look! A car has spun off into the median! Look! A person is sitting inside the car, smoking a cigarette! Wow. Oh look! Another one spun off! Wow. I have NEVER seen anything like this before! My goodness.
By the fourth car that has spun off the road, I'm over it. Yeah, I rubbernecked at the first one. I figure, everyone else is looking at it, why shouldn't I take a gander as well?
My greatest fear, however, is the dreaded Black Ice. Wouldn't that be a great name for a female African American wrestler? Or someone on American Gladiators? Oh Lord, the black ice scares the crap out of me. Because I know from experience that you don't have to be going too fast to do a shit-ton of damage to your car if you hit a patch of it. The black ice is what keeps me going a at a snail's pace, leaving about 15 car lengths between myself and the car in front of me, and gripping the wheel extra tight when a truck passes me to the left.
So I guess winter has finally arrived. I had totally convinced myself that we were going to get off scot-free this winter. That global warming stuff, if it could just center itself over northeast Ohio, that would be cool with me. Warm us up to about Hawaii's temperature? Yeah. That'll work.
But even worse than my commute to work today... the cherry on top of my already shitty mood... me and Bad Lady are wearing the EXACT SAME sweater. I accessorized mine with a brown jacket, but there's no mistaking it. Dammit, I just bought this sweater, too. And it's cute as hell. But there's no excuse -- the sweater must be burned.
Oh, and I didn't even tell you about yesterday! Let's see... get to work, and the power's out. Walk up four dark flights of stairs (exercise? bah humbug) and overhear one of the Presidents tell my boss that he is leaving, and that my boss has to make an "executive decision" whether or not to let us go home. By all estimations, they have heard that it will be 4 to 5 hours before the power comes on because some transformer blew or something. So we wait. And we wait. My boss says nothing to us.
We clean our desks. We file. We sit around and bullshit and whine.
It's 11 a.m., and we're still without power. The backup power is also out at this point. We are beginning to form an angry mob. We've all decided that we are leaving, because the day is going to be a total waste.
With that, the lights flicker on. We learn later that another President had called in to his assistant and told her to tell everyone to go home. We were that close!
And then the snow started. And you know the rest.
Happy holidays.
Friday, December 10
Thursday, December 9
This just might be under someone's tree this year
This gift is perfect for someone on your Christmas list. Maybe it's even you.
I totally want to get this for someone.
This gift is perfect for someone on your Christmas list. Maybe it's even you.
I totally want to get this for someone.
Wednesday, December 8
Small world
I don't know if I ever wrote about how a biker was killed right outside my house earlier this year. It was such a surreal, bizarre night. I remember that we were in our basement, watching a taped episode of the Sopranos, the one where Adrianna gets shot. I knew that she got shot because I had either read it in a blog or heard it on the radio, and so I was just sitting there on pins and needles, waiting for it to happen, and as the episode got closer and closer to the end, getting more and more jacked up about it.
About halfway through the episode, we heard a noise. It just sounded like something falling off a shelf upstairs, but it spooked both of our cats. I thought nothing of it, but after a few minutes, my husband felt uneasy about it and went upstairs to investigate.
He called me up and we were witness to a scene of total chaos. There were several police cars blocking off the street, a couple ambulances, and TONS of pedestrian gawkers. Finally, across the street, we saw the motorcycle, totally smashed to bits. We saw the biker in the road, not moving, his helmet several feet away from him. But we couldn't see much else, because it was dark, and because of the distance.
We watched this scene for about an hour, until finally they loaded the biker into an ambulance and sped away.
We learned that he died from a small blurb in the newspaper, which also said that the driver was a hit-skip, that she fled the scene, but that police came to her house and arrested her late that night.
Well, fast forward to the present. My husband's boss calls my husband and tells him that he will be off Thursday because he has to accompany his teenage son to court because the son is testifying in a D.U.I. case. It turns out that his son was at the house of the hit-skip driver that night. The driver's son and my husband's boss' son are friends. Apparently she was completely trashed, and when she got back to the house, she barricaded herself in there, and wouldn't let the cops in until the middle of the night when she sobered up.
The whole thing is sad, and to think that we are somehow connected to it, because it happened right before our eyes, it's definitely a tragedy that will stay with me for a long time.
I don't know if I ever wrote about how a biker was killed right outside my house earlier this year. It was such a surreal, bizarre night. I remember that we were in our basement, watching a taped episode of the Sopranos, the one where Adrianna gets shot. I knew that she got shot because I had either read it in a blog or heard it on the radio, and so I was just sitting there on pins and needles, waiting for it to happen, and as the episode got closer and closer to the end, getting more and more jacked up about it.
About halfway through the episode, we heard a noise. It just sounded like something falling off a shelf upstairs, but it spooked both of our cats. I thought nothing of it, but after a few minutes, my husband felt uneasy about it and went upstairs to investigate.
He called me up and we were witness to a scene of total chaos. There were several police cars blocking off the street, a couple ambulances, and TONS of pedestrian gawkers. Finally, across the street, we saw the motorcycle, totally smashed to bits. We saw the biker in the road, not moving, his helmet several feet away from him. But we couldn't see much else, because it was dark, and because of the distance.
We watched this scene for about an hour, until finally they loaded the biker into an ambulance and sped away.
We learned that he died from a small blurb in the newspaper, which also said that the driver was a hit-skip, that she fled the scene, but that police came to her house and arrested her late that night.
Well, fast forward to the present. My husband's boss calls my husband and tells him that he will be off Thursday because he has to accompany his teenage son to court because the son is testifying in a D.U.I. case. It turns out that his son was at the house of the hit-skip driver that night. The driver's son and my husband's boss' son are friends. Apparently she was completely trashed, and when she got back to the house, she barricaded herself in there, and wouldn't let the cops in until the middle of the night when she sobered up.
The whole thing is sad, and to think that we are somehow connected to it, because it happened right before our eyes, it's definitely a tragedy that will stay with me for a long time.
Tuesday, December 7
Monday, December 6
Keep reachin' for the stars
Saw-eet! I am the #1 google search for "office bullshit".
*unfolds prepared acceptance speech*
Ahem. I'd like to thank Bad Lady, for providing most of the rants that spew onto this page from time to time, couldn't have done it without you. I'd like to thank Other Side of the Cube Mate, for bordering on annoying and for shushing me on your stupid-ass conference call. I'd like to thank my boss, for occasionally being blog fodder. I'd like to thank the techies, especially those of you who are pigmentally challenged. I'd like to thank the people who sit in the kitchen and analyze the carb content of every lunch that passes through the doors.
If I forgot anyone, I'd like to thank them as well, this is truly, truly an honor.
*wipes away tear of joy*
Saw-eet! I am the #1 google search for "office bullshit".
*unfolds prepared acceptance speech*
Ahem. I'd like to thank Bad Lady, for providing most of the rants that spew onto this page from time to time, couldn't have done it without you. I'd like to thank Other Side of the Cube Mate, for bordering on annoying and for shushing me on your stupid-ass conference call. I'd like to thank my boss, for occasionally being blog fodder. I'd like to thank the techies, especially those of you who are pigmentally challenged. I'd like to thank the people who sit in the kitchen and analyze the carb content of every lunch that passes through the doors.
If I forgot anyone, I'd like to thank them as well, this is truly, truly an honor.
*wipes away tear of joy*
Jesus saves... and he fights plaque
Just when you thought it was safe to go to the dentist ... Jesus shows up in an x-ray.
Apologizes to whoever's blog I stole this from... here's a zoomed up look at Mr. Jesus H. Christ, just in case you had a hard time making him out from the first shot:
Coming soon to an eBay near you!
Just when you thought it was safe to go to the dentist ... Jesus shows up in an x-ray.
Apologizes to whoever's blog I stole this from... here's a zoomed up look at Mr. Jesus H. Christ, just in case you had a hard time making him out from the first shot:
Coming soon to an eBay near you!
A post
So I'm sitting here, munching on the Captain's Wafers (doesn't that sound dirty?), and I realize that I got nothin' as far as blog material goes. The proverbial well has run dry, so to speak.
But never fear, my friend Amy sent me this e-mail, and suggested that perhaps I could post it, and so post I shall:
---------------------------------------
'Titanic' Tops Cheesy Film Moments Survey
1 hour, 38 minutes ago Entertainment - AP
NEW YORK - Although "Titanic" soared at the box office
in 1997, according to a recent United Kingdom survey,
it's most memorable line — "I'm the king of the
world!" — sunk.
Baker Warburtons posed the question "What are your top
three cheesiest moments in film?" to 2,000 U.K.
moviegoers in celebration of the launch of their new
cheese flavored crumpets.
The line uttered by Leonardo DiCaprio (news) was
followed by Patrick Swayze's "Nobody puts Baby in the
corner," from 1987's "Dirty Dancing" and Andie
McDowell's "Is it still raining? I hadn't noticed,"
from the end of 1994's "Four Weddings and a Funeral."
Warburtons reports that surveyed women opted for
romantic comedy moments from films such as "Notting
Hill" and "Jerry Maguire" while men preferred silly
scenes from action flicks like "Top Gun" and
"Braveheart." Despite the gender divide, 33 percent of
the overall vote unanimously agreed on the "Titanic"
yell as the cheesiest moment.
Here's the list of big cheese moments:
1. "Titanic": Leonardo DiCaprio's "I'm the king of the
world!"
2. "Dirty Dancing": Patrick Swayze's "Nobody puts Baby
in the corner."
3. "Four Weddings And A Funeral": Andie McDowell's "Is
it still raining? I hadn't noticed."
3. "Ghost": Demi Moore's "Ditto." to Patrick Swayze's
"I love you."
5. "Top Gun": Val Kilmer to Tom Cruise (news): "You
can be my wingman anytime"
6. "Notting Hill": Julia Roberts' "I'm just a girl...
standing in front of a boy... asking him to love her."
7. "Independence Day": Bill Pullman's "Today we
celebrate our Independence Day!"
8. "Braveheart": Mel Gibson (news)'s "They may take
our lives, but they will not take our freedom!"
9. "Jerry Maguire": Renee Zellweger to Tom Cruise:
"You had me at hello."
10. "The Postman": A blind woman says to Kevin Costner
(news): "You're a godsend, a savior." He replies: "No,
I'm a postman."
--------------------------------------------
I happen to agree with most of these. I'm trying to think of some other movie moments that would make my personal list.
Hmm... that reminds me of a story... when my husband was a freshman in college, he and some friends went to see the movie "Passenger 57", which starred Wesley Snipes. The theater in which he and his friends chose to view this movie was ... um ... urban. Anyway, there comes a point in the movie where Wesley Snipes says something like, "Always bet on black" and the entire theater erupted in applause and hoots.
Here are a few more quotes, most of which have become cheesy by overuse throughout the years (thank you stationfive):
Here's looking at you, kid. (Casablanca)
Get your stinkin' paws off me, you damn dirty ape! (Planet of the Apes)
I'll make him an offer he can't refuse. (The Godfather)
You talkin' to me? (Taxi Driver)
I see dead people. (The Sixth Sense)
I'll be back. (Terminator)
Go ahead, make my day. (Dirty Harry)
I love the smell of napalm in the morning. (Apocalypse Now)
'You want answers?' 'I want the truth!' 'You can't handle the truth!' (A Few Good Men)
Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in... (The Godfather III)
So I'm sitting here, munching on the Captain's Wafers (doesn't that sound dirty?), and I realize that I got nothin' as far as blog material goes. The proverbial well has run dry, so to speak.
But never fear, my friend Amy sent me this e-mail, and suggested that perhaps I could post it, and so post I shall:
---------------------------------------
'Titanic' Tops Cheesy Film Moments Survey
1 hour, 38 minutes ago Entertainment - AP
NEW YORK - Although "Titanic" soared at the box office
in 1997, according to a recent United Kingdom survey,
it's most memorable line — "I'm the king of the
world!" — sunk.
Baker Warburtons posed the question "What are your top
three cheesiest moments in film?" to 2,000 U.K.
moviegoers in celebration of the launch of their new
cheese flavored crumpets.
The line uttered by Leonardo DiCaprio (news) was
followed by Patrick Swayze's "Nobody puts Baby in the
corner," from 1987's "Dirty Dancing" and Andie
McDowell's "Is it still raining? I hadn't noticed,"
from the end of 1994's "Four Weddings and a Funeral."
Warburtons reports that surveyed women opted for
romantic comedy moments from films such as "Notting
Hill" and "Jerry Maguire" while men preferred silly
scenes from action flicks like "Top Gun" and
"Braveheart." Despite the gender divide, 33 percent of
the overall vote unanimously agreed on the "Titanic"
yell as the cheesiest moment.
Here's the list of big cheese moments:
1. "Titanic": Leonardo DiCaprio's "I'm the king of the
world!"
2. "Dirty Dancing": Patrick Swayze's "Nobody puts Baby
in the corner."
3. "Four Weddings And A Funeral": Andie McDowell's "Is
it still raining? I hadn't noticed."
3. "Ghost": Demi Moore's "Ditto." to Patrick Swayze's
"I love you."
5. "Top Gun": Val Kilmer to Tom Cruise (news): "You
can be my wingman anytime"
6. "Notting Hill": Julia Roberts' "I'm just a girl...
standing in front of a boy... asking him to love her."
7. "Independence Day": Bill Pullman's "Today we
celebrate our Independence Day!"
8. "Braveheart": Mel Gibson (news)'s "They may take
our lives, but they will not take our freedom!"
9. "Jerry Maguire": Renee Zellweger to Tom Cruise:
"You had me at hello."
10. "The Postman": A blind woman says to Kevin Costner
(news): "You're a godsend, a savior." He replies: "No,
I'm a postman."
--------------------------------------------
I happen to agree with most of these. I'm trying to think of some other movie moments that would make my personal list.
Hmm... that reminds me of a story... when my husband was a freshman in college, he and some friends went to see the movie "Passenger 57", which starred Wesley Snipes. The theater in which he and his friends chose to view this movie was ... um ... urban. Anyway, there comes a point in the movie where Wesley Snipes says something like, "Always bet on black" and the entire theater erupted in applause and hoots.
Here are a few more quotes, most of which have become cheesy by overuse throughout the years (thank you stationfive):
Here's looking at you, kid. (Casablanca)
Get your stinkin' paws off me, you damn dirty ape! (Planet of the Apes)
I'll make him an offer he can't refuse. (The Godfather)
You talkin' to me? (Taxi Driver)
I see dead people. (The Sixth Sense)
I'll be back. (Terminator)
Go ahead, make my day. (Dirty Harry)
I love the smell of napalm in the morning. (Apocalypse Now)
'You want answers?' 'I want the truth!' 'You can't handle the truth!' (A Few Good Men)
Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in... (The Godfather III)
Friday, December 3
Survive Her
After what I consider a very dismal Survivor season, I find myself rooting for Chris to win it all. My husband pegged Chris as the winner from episode one. He also swears he picked Eliza to be the top female finisher. In typical fashion, I predicted Scout would be the first one gone and that Sarge would win, only to see those two picks blown out of the water.
Of the women who are left, I wouldn't mind seeing Julie surprise everyone and win. But she is looking like easy pickins for next week's voteoff. I just hope that neither Scout nor Twila comprise the final two. Yikes, them two wimmins is nasty!
After what I consider a very dismal Survivor season, I find myself rooting for Chris to win it all. My husband pegged Chris as the winner from episode one. He also swears he picked Eliza to be the top female finisher. In typical fashion, I predicted Scout would be the first one gone and that Sarge would win, only to see those two picks blown out of the water.
Of the women who are left, I wouldn't mind seeing Julie surprise everyone and win. But she is looking like easy pickins for next week's voteoff. I just hope that neither Scout nor Twila comprise the final two. Yikes, them two wimmins is nasty!
Thursday, December 2
Gasp!
Jason Giambi used steroids?
*shocked face*
No!!!
What'll they say next, that Mark McGwire did too?
Jason Giambi used steroids?
*shocked face*
No!!!
What'll they say next, that Mark McGwire did too?
Wednesday, December 1
A new low
Yes, I am ashamed of myself.
I sunk to a new low last night.
I watched that stupid Gilligan's Island reality show.
ALL TWO HOURS OF IT.
Well, the second hour, I was flipping between that and Veronica Mars and The Amazing Race, but STILL.
Today has gotten off to a rousing start. I was in the restroom and noticed I had a thread coming off my skirt. So I pulled it...
... And proceeded to rip out the entire hem.
So yeah. I masking taped it up, but who knows how long that will stay. I'm hoping someone has some safety pins.
UPDATE: Safety pins have been located and implemented. Project Pin-Up is a success.
Yes, I am ashamed of myself.
I sunk to a new low last night.
I watched that stupid Gilligan's Island reality show.
ALL TWO HOURS OF IT.
Well, the second hour, I was flipping between that and Veronica Mars and The Amazing Race, but STILL.
Today has gotten off to a rousing start. I was in the restroom and noticed I had a thread coming off my skirt. So I pulled it...
... And proceeded to rip out the entire hem.
So yeah. I masking taped it up, but who knows how long that will stay. I'm hoping someone has some safety pins.
UPDATE: Safety pins have been located and implemented. Project Pin-Up is a success.
Tuesday, November 30
-----Original message -----
From: me
To: boss
Date: November 29, 2004 4:37 pm
Subject: Request for vacation day
[Boss],Would it be possible for me to take December 27 as a vacation day?
Please let me know.
Thanks!
[me]
-----Original message -------
From: my boss
To: me
Date: November 30, 2004 12:49 pm
Subject: re:Request for vacation day
Yes. Have fun. God knows I'll have to work that day to cover your ass.
Respectfully
[boss]
From: me
To: boss
Date: November 29, 2004 4:37 pm
Subject: Request for vacation day
[Boss],Would it be possible for me to take December 27 as a vacation day?
Please let me know.
Thanks!
[me]
-----Original message -------
From: my boss
To: me
Date: November 30, 2004 12:49 pm
Subject: re:Request for vacation day
Yes. Have fun. God knows I'll have to work that day to cover your ass.
Respectfully
[boss]
Monday, November 29
.... Aaaaaand we're back
Well, one of the things I'm thankful for this Thanksgiving weekend was that there was not too much blog activity, so I didn't have to spend hours catching up with everyone. Thank you for not posting!!!!
I'm also thankful that Thanksgiving was free of family drama. That's always a plus.
I saw way too many James Bond movies this weekend, that's thanks to my in-laws, who are 007 freaks. They can quote the movies. They have favorite Bond girls, and favorite Bonds. Favorite villains, even. I had never seen a 007 movie prior to marrying into this family. I had, however, seen all three Austin Powers movies several times, so this helps me to appreciate the spoof even more.
I did not brave the shopping mall extravaganza. There's nothing that skeeves me out more than bargain hungry, tryptophan-addled Christmas shoppers on Black Friday. I don't care much for crowds in the first place, but if someone is additionally going to elbow me for the last Playstation 2, I'll pass. I plan on doing all my shopping this year online, thank you very much.
I was not pleased to see the first snowfall of the season, even though it melted the next day. It's only a sign of what is to come. One of these years, I will move my ass south or west, to a climate that agrees more with me. I'm thinking Hawaii.
Well, one of the things I'm thankful for this Thanksgiving weekend was that there was not too much blog activity, so I didn't have to spend hours catching up with everyone. Thank you for not posting!!!!
I'm also thankful that Thanksgiving was free of family drama. That's always a plus.
I saw way too many James Bond movies this weekend, that's thanks to my in-laws, who are 007 freaks. They can quote the movies. They have favorite Bond girls, and favorite Bonds. Favorite villains, even. I had never seen a 007 movie prior to marrying into this family. I had, however, seen all three Austin Powers movies several times, so this helps me to appreciate the spoof even more.
I did not brave the shopping mall extravaganza. There's nothing that skeeves me out more than bargain hungry, tryptophan-addled Christmas shoppers on Black Friday. I don't care much for crowds in the first place, but if someone is additionally going to elbow me for the last Playstation 2, I'll pass. I plan on doing all my shopping this year online, thank you very much.
I was not pleased to see the first snowfall of the season, even though it melted the next day. It's only a sign of what is to come. One of these years, I will move my ass south or west, to a climate that agrees more with me. I'm thinking Hawaii.
Wednesday, November 24
Tuesday, November 23
Damn, she's smooth
Well, here's another one to file in the "just when you think Bad Lady has tried every trick in the book, she comes up with this doozy" folder:
Sure, around the holidays, it's always slow around here. The workload is diminished, or in some cases, non-existent.
But we all suffer through it. We put in our time, enjoy a cake day, and go home on time. We take a long lunch, we surf the Internet more than usual.
But we DON'T decide, at 3:30, to call it a day.
Unless you are Bad Lady, and then you can declare that you're bored, pack up your shit, and leave, much to the shock and awe of all those around you.
Well, here's another one to file in the "just when you think Bad Lady has tried every trick in the book, she comes up with this doozy" folder:
Sure, around the holidays, it's always slow around here. The workload is diminished, or in some cases, non-existent.
But we all suffer through it. We put in our time, enjoy a cake day, and go home on time. We take a long lunch, we surf the Internet more than usual.
But we DON'T decide, at 3:30, to call it a day.
Unless you are Bad Lady, and then you can declare that you're bored, pack up your shit, and leave, much to the shock and awe of all those around you.
News
Between the basket brawl, hunters shooting each other, the woman who cut off her baby's arms, and the $28k grilled cheese sandwich, it's no wonder Dan Rather has had enough.
Between the basket brawl, hunters shooting each other, the woman who cut off her baby's arms, and the $28k grilled cheese sandwich, it's no wonder Dan Rather has had enough.
Friday, November 19
My next-door neighbor, Jim, has expressed interest in 007 role
MY BACKYARD (AP): My next door neighbor, Jim, has expressed interest in auditioning for the role of James Bond.
Several Hollywood actors' names have been thrown around in association with the role, left vacant by Pierce Brosnan. So far, my next door neighbor, Jim, has not been approached about the role.
"It's something I've always wanted," Jim said. "If they asked me, I'd probably do it."
In a related story, my other next door neighbor, Chet, has not expressed interest in the role. "It's not something I can see myself doing," he said, while cutting his grass.
Sources say that my across the street neighbor, whose name I do not know, may be asked to read for the part of 007. My across the street neighbor could not be reached for comment.
Related links:
Colin Farrell doesn't want to do Bond
Colin Firth wants to do Bond
Gold Bond
MY BACKYARD (AP): My next door neighbor, Jim, has expressed interest in auditioning for the role of James Bond.
Several Hollywood actors' names have been thrown around in association with the role, left vacant by Pierce Brosnan. So far, my next door neighbor, Jim, has not been approached about the role.
"It's something I've always wanted," Jim said. "If they asked me, I'd probably do it."
In a related story, my other next door neighbor, Chet, has not expressed interest in the role. "It's not something I can see myself doing," he said, while cutting his grass.
Sources say that my across the street neighbor, whose name I do not know, may be asked to read for the part of 007. My across the street neighbor could not be reached for comment.
Related links:
Colin Farrell doesn't want to do Bond
Colin Firth wants to do Bond
Gold Bond
Survivor NC-17
OK, so was I the only one cringing and simultaneously giggling like Beavis when Twila, with her legs straddled around a pole, kept chanting, "Go down Chad! Go down! Please, for the love of God, go down, Chad!"
Yeah.
Incidentally, is this the same season that Dolly was on? Because that seems like it was forever ago.
OK, so was I the only one cringing and simultaneously giggling like Beavis when Twila, with her legs straddled around a pole, kept chanting, "Go down Chad! Go down! Please, for the love of God, go down, Chad!"
Yeah.
Incidentally, is this the same season that Dolly was on? Because that seems like it was forever ago.
Thursday, November 18
Shush!
Here is my petty office bullshit of the day:
The woman in the cube next to mine... we can't see each other (no, my cube opens to face Bad Lady, thank you very much). We share a cube wall. And her phone is right next to the shared wall.
So what does she do? She sets up a conference call, IN HER CUBE. And then shushes me when someone comes over and asks me a question.
Hello? Not fifty feet away, we have THREE, count 'em, THREE conference rooms. Each is eqipped with that lovely invention by Alexander Graham Bell, the telephone. (Or did Thomas Edison invent the phone? Oh, who gives a shit.)
*huge eye roll*
Don't shush me. If you choose to set up a call in your cubicle, then you should EXPECT typical office noise. And please don't think about how you are inconveniencing others around you, who have to LISTEN to your entire conversation!
Sorry. I'm not fired up about this, I swear.
P.S. I apologize for excessive use of capital letters in this post.
Here is my petty office bullshit of the day:
The woman in the cube next to mine... we can't see each other (no, my cube opens to face Bad Lady, thank you very much). We share a cube wall. And her phone is right next to the shared wall.
So what does she do? She sets up a conference call, IN HER CUBE. And then shushes me when someone comes over and asks me a question.
Hello? Not fifty feet away, we have THREE, count 'em, THREE conference rooms. Each is eqipped with that lovely invention by Alexander Graham Bell, the telephone. (Or did Thomas Edison invent the phone? Oh, who gives a shit.)
*huge eye roll*
Don't shush me. If you choose to set up a call in your cubicle, then you should EXPECT typical office noise. And please don't think about how you are inconveniencing others around you, who have to LISTEN to your entire conversation!
Sorry. I'm not fired up about this, I swear.
P.S. I apologize for excessive use of capital letters in this post.
Off the hizzle, fo' drizzle
Nothing like coming in only to discover you have a 10 a.m. deadline to get the adrenaline pumping. I am the type of person who despises deadlines. They are my enemy. I am an anti-crastinator, in that I don't care for doing things at the last minute. Can't stand it. It makes me too frazzled. I'd rather be done with a project with time to spare than to be panicking about it at the last hour. This made me sort of a weirdo in college, but I didn't care, I was getting a good nights' sleep while my friends all were pulling all-nighters. Sleep trumps all.
I'm meeting a friend for lunch today, so I will actually get a chance to leave the office for a change.
It is drizzling out. I have decided that "drizzle" is one of my favorite words. It sounds like a word Snoop Dogg made up.
Nothing like coming in only to discover you have a 10 a.m. deadline to get the adrenaline pumping. I am the type of person who despises deadlines. They are my enemy. I am an anti-crastinator, in that I don't care for doing things at the last minute. Can't stand it. It makes me too frazzled. I'd rather be done with a project with time to spare than to be panicking about it at the last hour. This made me sort of a weirdo in college, but I didn't care, I was getting a good nights' sleep while my friends all were pulling all-nighters. Sleep trumps all.
I'm meeting a friend for lunch today, so I will actually get a chance to leave the office for a change.
It is drizzling out. I have decided that "drizzle" is one of my favorite words. It sounds like a word Snoop Dogg made up.
Wednesday, November 17
Tuesday, November 16
A mother of a miracle
And lo, the Virgin Mary appeared in a grilled cheese sandwich. And it was good.
Then, the sandwich appeared on Ebay, and it was good.
Then, I ate it, and it was good.
Could have done with some chips, also though.
And lo, the Virgin Mary appeared in a grilled cheese sandwich. And it was good.
Then, the sandwich appeared on Ebay, and it was good.
Then, I ate it, and it was good.
Could have done with some chips, also though.
The Law of Conservation of Energy states that energy cannot be created or destroyed, but can change its form.
The total quantity of matter and energy available in the universe is a fixed amount and never any more or less.
-taken from some scientific website
I am not scientifically-minded. It was never one of my favorite subjects. In fact, I always wondered how I managed to eke through science classes in high school.
But I think I have discovered a scientific principle that needs to be documented. I’m talking potential Nobel Prize-winning stuff, here.
Based upon the Law of Conservation of Energy, which states that there is always a fixed quantity of matter and energy in existence, I have noted a curious phenomenon.
I’ll call it the Law of Conservation of Paper Clips.
How it works is: no human being who works in an office ever has to buy paper clips. You can use all the paper clips you want, but they always come back to you. I send some out in the mail attached to documents, I get them back attached to other documents. Never once in my life have I run out of paper clips. It’s scientifically impossible.
So I’m thinking that there must be a fixed amount of paper clips in the universe. Come on. Have you ever heard of a paper clip factory? No! Because they’re in such abundance, the paper clips that one could buy in a retail store are just repackaged paper clips that have been in circulation since the invention of the paper clip. And if you buy them, you are a sucker.
Does anyone have any corroborating evidence that I may use to support my thesis? Have any other office supplies displayed such behavior?
My research continues…
Monday, November 15
In the know
Here's what you need to know this week in the "human interest" category of the news:
O.D.B. Dead.
Star Jones. Married.
Colin Powell. Gone with the wind.
Scott Peterson. Dead man walking.
59 year old great grandmother. Pregnant.
Barry Bonds. Yawn.
Here's what you need to know this week in the "human interest" category of the news:
O.D.B. Dead.
Star Jones. Married.
Colin Powell. Gone with the wind.
Scott Peterson. Dead man walking.
59 year old great grandmother. Pregnant.
Barry Bonds. Yawn.
Sunday, November 14
Friday, November 12
Deja vu all over again
Fifteen more minutes. That is all that is left in this slow-ass moving Friday.
A few of us just watched the live Scott Peterson verdict. I am actually surprised that they found him guilty. Surprised, but pleased.
Standing there, huddled around the computer screen, reminded me of nearly 10 years ago, waiting for the O.J. criminal verdict to come out. I was a sophomore at OU, and I, along with many students, watched the live verdict on television at our student center. I can't remember what the reaction was when they said he was not guilty. But I do remember, when I left, walking across the college green, only to hear Nakeia*, one of my dorm-mates from freshman year, about two football fields away, screaming at the top of her lungs, "OJ's INNOCENT, Y'ALL!"
Oh my. That girl was a piece of work. I could tell so many stories about her. Like about how she and her friends regularly took a cab to class because they didn't want to walk up the hill from the dorms, or how she and her roommate would go to sleep listening to a CD with one song on repeat, all night long, loud enough for the bass to vibrate everyone's room walls, or how our R.A. knocked on their door and a huge pot smoke cloud wafted out, and the R.A. asked if they were smoking pot, and she said it was incense, and the R.A. believed it. Or how she randomly showed up in one of my econ classes that she wasn't enrolled in, and sat there the entire duration of class wearing headphones and occasionally doing a slight gyration in her seat.
Yeah, I'd tell you all those stories, but they just wouldn't be funny unless you knew her.
Five minutes.
Fifteen more minutes. That is all that is left in this slow-ass moving Friday.
A few of us just watched the live Scott Peterson verdict. I am actually surprised that they found him guilty. Surprised, but pleased.
Standing there, huddled around the computer screen, reminded me of nearly 10 years ago, waiting for the O.J. criminal verdict to come out. I was a sophomore at OU, and I, along with many students, watched the live verdict on television at our student center. I can't remember what the reaction was when they said he was not guilty. But I do remember, when I left, walking across the college green, only to hear Nakeia*, one of my dorm-mates from freshman year, about two football fields away, screaming at the top of her lungs, "OJ's INNOCENT, Y'ALL!"
Oh my. That girl was a piece of work. I could tell so many stories about her. Like about how she and her friends regularly took a cab to class because they didn't want to walk up the hill from the dorms, or how she and her roommate would go to sleep listening to a CD with one song on repeat, all night long, loud enough for the bass to vibrate everyone's room walls, or how our R.A. knocked on their door and a huge pot smoke cloud wafted out, and the R.A. asked if they were smoking pot, and she said it was incense, and the R.A. believed it. Or how she randomly showed up in one of my econ classes that she wasn't enrolled in, and sat there the entire duration of class wearing headphones and occasionally doing a slight gyration in her seat.
Yeah, I'd tell you all those stories, but they just wouldn't be funny unless you knew her.
Five minutes.
See the light
For nearly 29 years, I have been under the (false! false! false!) impression that Arby's was gross. I had no evidence to back this up, but I've always felt that fast food roast beef was frankly, kind of icky. Maybe I had it when I was younger and disliked it. I can't really recall.
Anyway, that's all changed. I have now realized that Arby's is delicious. I embrace the oven mitt. I high-five it. And I now have a lifetime of Arby-avoiding to make up for.
Believe me, I will make up for it.
For nearly 29 years, I have been under the (false! false! false!) impression that Arby's was gross. I had no evidence to back this up, but I've always felt that fast food roast beef was frankly, kind of icky. Maybe I had it when I was younger and disliked it. I can't really recall.
Anyway, that's all changed. I have now realized that Arby's is delicious. I embrace the oven mitt. I high-five it. And I now have a lifetime of Arby-avoiding to make up for.
Believe me, I will make up for it.
Tuesday, November 9
The house Beezlebub built
Well, to lighten the mood a little... we just had a woman call in, she talked to a co-worker of mine, and this woman informed her that she had seen the devil, and that the devil told her that my company owed it to her to build her a house in (an affluent west-of-Cleveland suburb).
I'll have to remember that one the next time I want something. We'll go out to dinner, and when the bill comes, I'll say, "That's OK, I talked to Satan, and he said you'd give us this meal for free."
Well, to lighten the mood a little... we just had a woman call in, she talked to a co-worker of mine, and this woman informed her that she had seen the devil, and that the devil told her that my company owed it to her to build her a house in (an affluent west-of-Cleveland suburb).
I'll have to remember that one the next time I want something. We'll go out to dinner, and when the bill comes, I'll say, "That's OK, I talked to Satan, and he said you'd give us this meal for free."
Rage
On most days, I can contain my utter disdain and loathing for the useless co-worker I like to call Bad Lady. But today I cannot.
Today she crossed the line from just being a waste of a good salary and into the realm of Someone Who I Wish Would Fall Into a Snake Pit and Be Strangled By a Boa Constrictor.
Here's the deal. I was working with a client, with whom I have had a decent rapport. Bad Lady was working with a client who was partnering up with my client. So both needed new business cards. I had designed a logo for my client, which then Bad Lady's client wanted on her cards, so I gave B.L. the artwork.
B.L.'s client wanted a slight change to the logo. B.L. didn't feel like making the change, so she told the client that it couldn't be done because I didn't have time to do it.
Thanks. Way to make me the bad guy.
So her client responded that she would just wait until I had time to do it. So I did it -- in about five minutes, which, if B.L. had just asked me to make the change, I would have done it right then and there. She is just a lazy, worthless, piece of...
Yeah. So I'm in a mood today.
On most days, I can contain my utter disdain and loathing for the useless co-worker I like to call Bad Lady. But today I cannot.
Today she crossed the line from just being a waste of a good salary and into the realm of Someone Who I Wish Would Fall Into a Snake Pit and Be Strangled By a Boa Constrictor.
Here's the deal. I was working with a client, with whom I have had a decent rapport. Bad Lady was working with a client who was partnering up with my client. So both needed new business cards. I had designed a logo for my client, which then Bad Lady's client wanted on her cards, so I gave B.L. the artwork.
B.L.'s client wanted a slight change to the logo. B.L. didn't feel like making the change, so she told the client that it couldn't be done because I didn't have time to do it.
Thanks. Way to make me the bad guy.
So her client responded that she would just wait until I had time to do it. So I did it -- in about five minutes, which, if B.L. had just asked me to make the change, I would have done it right then and there. She is just a lazy, worthless, piece of...
Yeah. So I'm in a mood today.
Monday, November 8
D'oh
So I'm scrolling down and looking at all of the headlines on MSN and I see a story that says "Twain treats fans to block party."
And I think to myself, "Wow, that's nice of him. Wait, didn't he die a hundred years ago or something?"
See, I was thinking it was MARK Twain, aka Samuel Clemens, author of such novels as "Tom Sawyer" and "Huckleberry Hound". Instead, it's actually what's-her-name, the Canadian country singer.
My bad.
P.S. You know I was joking about the "Huckleberry Hound", right? I know that it's really called "Sharkelberry Finn."
So I'm scrolling down and looking at all of the headlines on MSN and I see a story that says "Twain treats fans to block party."
And I think to myself, "Wow, that's nice of him. Wait, didn't he die a hundred years ago or something?"
See, I was thinking it was MARK Twain, aka Samuel Clemens, author of such novels as "Tom Sawyer" and "Huckleberry Hound". Instead, it's actually what's-her-name, the Canadian country singer.
My bad.
P.S. You know I was joking about the "Huckleberry Hound", right? I know that it's really called "Sharkelberry Finn."
Argh
We're going to be a little grouchy today. "We" meaning me and my stomach.
We indulged in too many chicken wings last night. Mmmm, wings.
Ugh, just the thought of them now makes me want to hurl. I also didn't sleep so good. But I did have a disturbing dream last night -- I have this dream all the time actually -- where I have a major role in a play that is about to open, and I realize that not only do I not know my lines, but I have never known them, and it is too late to learn them, and I am going to make a total and utter fool of myself. Also curiously, I seem to always be in some kind of Shakespearian play. Hmm. What does it all mean?
It probably just means, don't eat wings before you go to bed.
We're going to be a little grouchy today. "We" meaning me and my stomach.
We indulged in too many chicken wings last night. Mmmm, wings.
Ugh, just the thought of them now makes me want to hurl. I also didn't sleep so good. But I did have a disturbing dream last night -- I have this dream all the time actually -- where I have a major role in a play that is about to open, and I realize that not only do I not know my lines, but I have never known them, and it is too late to learn them, and I am going to make a total and utter fool of myself. Also curiously, I seem to always be in some kind of Shakespearian play. Hmm. What does it all mean?
It probably just means, don't eat wings before you go to bed.
Saturday, November 6
NaNo Update
I do this with much trepidation, but I am posting the beginning of my NaNoWriMo novel. It can be found here, on my auxiliary blog. Please feel free to offer any wisdom. It's going to be a weird, kinda creepy story. Not Stephen King creepy, but maybe a little bit.
UPDATE: The first two chapters are up. You'll have to start at the bottom and work your way up...
I do this with much trepidation, but I am posting the beginning of my NaNoWriMo novel. It can be found here, on my auxiliary blog. Please feel free to offer any wisdom. It's going to be a weird, kinda creepy story. Not Stephen King creepy, but maybe a little bit.
UPDATE: The first two chapters are up. You'll have to start at the bottom and work your way up...
Friday, November 5
No one will notice
I've spent much of the afternoon trying to touch up a photo of a curly-haired woman. I'm trying to remove the background between her curls so I can put a different-colored background behind her. Tra-la.
Over the years that I have worked here, I've seen my fair share of odd requests for photo touch-ups. Here are my favorites, the Hall of Fame of touch-ups, so to speak:
1. A woman had one of those eyes that doesn't quite look at you dead on, so that when you're talking to her, you don't know which eye is actually looking at you. She requested that we give her a new eye. This was easier said than done. And it's not like when anyone met her, they wouldn't notice that in her picture she had two normal eyes, and in person, she had one normal eye and one freakish fucked up eye, right?
2. Several requests for removal of something called "turkey neck."
3. The alternative to the Atkins diet: we'll just shear a little bit off your hips and sides.
4. Extreme makeover: tummy tuck, facelift, wrinkle zap, turkey neck removal, hair tame, teeth whitening, boob enhancement.
It's pretty amazing what Photoshop can do sometimes. It's even more amazing what people will ask us to do.
I've spent much of the afternoon trying to touch up a photo of a curly-haired woman. I'm trying to remove the background between her curls so I can put a different-colored background behind her. Tra-la.
Over the years that I have worked here, I've seen my fair share of odd requests for photo touch-ups. Here are my favorites, the Hall of Fame of touch-ups, so to speak:
1. A woman had one of those eyes that doesn't quite look at you dead on, so that when you're talking to her, you don't know which eye is actually looking at you. She requested that we give her a new eye. This was easier said than done. And it's not like when anyone met her, they wouldn't notice that in her picture she had two normal eyes, and in person, she had one normal eye and one freakish fucked up eye, right?
2. Several requests for removal of something called "turkey neck."
3. The alternative to the Atkins diet: we'll just shear a little bit off your hips and sides.
4. Extreme makeover: tummy tuck, facelift, wrinkle zap, turkey neck removal, hair tame, teeth whitening, boob enhancement.
It's pretty amazing what Photoshop can do sometimes. It's even more amazing what people will ask us to do.
Wednesday, November 3
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
Tuesday, November 2
Rock da Vote
I voted today. Did you?
Well, as P-Daddy or Puff Diddy or whatever Sean Combs is calling himself these days says, "Vote, or DIE!!!!!!!"
I don't know if P-Diddy will go door to door to kill you if you don't vote or what, but I wouldn't take that chance. Cause he bad boy for life.
And for the love of god people, check for chads. CHECK FOR CHADS!!!
I voted today. Did you?
Well, as P-Daddy or Puff Diddy or whatever Sean Combs is calling himself these days says, "Vote, or DIE!!!!!!!"
I don't know if P-Diddy will go door to door to kill you if you don't vote or what, but I wouldn't take that chance. Cause he bad boy for life.
And for the love of god people, check for chads. CHECK FOR CHADS!!!
Gimme some sugar
It's not bad enough that throughout October, we've had a jack-o-lantern in on top of our file cabinet that was constantly filled with candy.
Now, everyone has brought their leftover candy into the office and it has overflowed the jack-o-lantern.
I've eaten so much sugar in the past week I think I can be declared legally dead.
It's not bad enough that throughout October, we've had a jack-o-lantern in on top of our file cabinet that was constantly filled with candy.
Now, everyone has brought their leftover candy into the office and it has overflowed the jack-o-lantern.
I've eaten so much sugar in the past week I think I can be declared legally dead.
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