I'm Tsukino Usagi, sixteen years old and in the first year of high school. I'm a bit rash and a bit of a crybaby. But actually, I'm the fighter for love and justice, Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon.
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Meme ganked from Miss Smashleigh to celebrate Glorious October, and we hope I don't blow it as badly as last year.
I fail at introductions because I prefer anonymity and rarely consider myself relevant.
K*ko went to college to be a rock star but accidentally ended up as a CPA working for a political subdivision of the state of Nebraska, which fact blows her mind daily. An accountant! In Nebraska! WTFnkthx. Unfortunately she is, though not rich by any means, definitely comfortable, and so loath to toss it to be an interpretive dancer just yet. She works in a 940-square acre park containing a 250-acre lake; this provides nearly endless opportunities to hide, which is important. Her co-workers basically think she is Chibiusa and leave her offerings (Hello Kitty Pocky, My Little Pony fruit snacks, a pink Lenovo netbook, glitter nail polish) to bolster her good humor and sweet temper.
People think I pay a fortune to have three feet of hair highlighted, but it just does that. I consider them my tiger stripes. Today the education assistant told me my hair was really long (side note: I despise ladies’ room conversation). I think this is like when people refer to an art object they don’t care for as “interesting.”
I have two cats, and they are spoiled, but I am not a cat lady...despite popular opinion. I thought it required at least four cats before cat-lady status was attained, but apparently I was mistaken. I also live with a boy, which I also thought was a contraindication. So I’m dreadfully confused about the whole thing. Perhaps it is because I have expressed my intent to forgo replication?
I am still driving the fifteen-year-old Saturn inherited from my mother in 1998 when I left for school. I fully intend to drive it until it explodes. Then I am going to buy a Mustang. Then they will invent electric solar hovercraft within four years.
My favorite song this week is the Para Para remix by Ishida Yoko of Do You Remember Love from Macross. That tells you everything you need to know about me right there.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Monday, June 28, 2010
Dosvedanya, mio bambino
I am a high-functioning magical thinker. Mlle Bisquitte and I both read Shirley Jackson's We Have Always Lived in the Castle in our early teens, both thought Merricat was a lot like me, and neither one of us realized she was supposed to be crazy until the end of the book. When we met her mother last month for brunch in our big floppy Unicorn Huntaa hats, bedecked with ribbons and bells and charms (wings to fly us home, keys to open the door when we get there, hearts to replace what we've broken, stars because all we can do is shine), she told us that I don't change much over the years. I think she's prly right. Ten years of this drivel should tell, but too much of it gets filtered out. A week ago yesterday was the fifteenth anniversary of the day They didn't come for us. I have lived almost my whole life again since then.
The whole swarm of them was here last night after they went out and ate $500 of sushi for someone's birthday, and I was supremely inhospitable, because I resent very much any nonresident in the house after 7:00 PM on a work night. So do the kittenen. Eventually they left, and, as I am merciful, they went out with as many parts as they brought in.
I stayed home today for thin reason of digestive complaint (slight overindulgence in cake batter suspected), because approximately once per fiscal quarter I like to pretend I'm independently wealthy and can read all morning if I want to, or go to Target at 11:30 and buy honey sticks on clearance, or make kale chips and eat them because I feel like it. AIM FOR THE SKY, I always say.
Spook comes home for a week July 3, so I will waste one or two nights of my three-day weekend at home. Mom said she's planning to come back for good in March when her lease is up, whether she's secured gainful employment or not. I wish she'd come here instead of KC like she probably will. Not that I would ever see her, but we would each know the other was there, and maybe it would help.
We saw Pink Martini play with the Omaha Symphony, because we are nerds, and then I bought two LPs and had them signed, because that opportunity presents itself so rarely. DO WANT SO HARD that I bite my lip and pout.
Do not want to work tomorrow. Unfortunately, I have no other options until someone dies and leaves me $10 million, in which case I need to start cultivating select elderly men, or I win Powerball, in which case I need start buying tickets. I am a horrible, horrible lazy girl, but I am tired, and I will never be excited about being an accountant.
My yard looks really nice, though. I consider things I could bury in and around the brick flower beds around the trees that will defend me from all evil yet not interfere with the flora. Something made of pewter that doesn't have any holes. I do not believe this will help, yet I don't believe that it won't help.
The whole swarm of them was here last night after they went out and ate $500 of sushi for someone's birthday, and I was supremely inhospitable, because I resent very much any nonresident in the house after 7:00 PM on a work night. So do the kittenen. Eventually they left, and, as I am merciful, they went out with as many parts as they brought in.
I stayed home today for thin reason of digestive complaint (slight overindulgence in cake batter suspected), because approximately once per fiscal quarter I like to pretend I'm independently wealthy and can read all morning if I want to, or go to Target at 11:30 and buy honey sticks on clearance, or make kale chips and eat them because I feel like it. AIM FOR THE SKY, I always say.
Spook comes home for a week July 3, so I will waste one or two nights of my three-day weekend at home. Mom said she's planning to come back for good in March when her lease is up, whether she's secured gainful employment or not. I wish she'd come here instead of KC like she probably will. Not that I would ever see her, but we would each know the other was there, and maybe it would help.
We saw Pink Martini play with the Omaha Symphony, because we are nerds, and then I bought two LPs and had them signed, because that opportunity presents itself so rarely. DO WANT SO HARD that I bite my lip and pout.
Do not want to work tomorrow. Unfortunately, I have no other options until someone dies and leaves me $10 million, in which case I need to start cultivating select elderly men, or I win Powerball, in which case I need start buying tickets. I am a horrible, horrible lazy girl, but I am tired, and I will never be excited about being an accountant.
My yard looks really nice, though. I consider things I could bury in and around the brick flower beds around the trees that will defend me from all evil yet not interfere with the flora. Something made of pewter that doesn't have any holes. I do not believe this will help, yet I don't believe that it won't help.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
NERD ALERT
(22:59:00) kitsplut: now I have sprayed my abdomen with chemicals that should make it less pasty. this is a trial before it goes on any skin that shows.
(22:59:11) kitsplut: being a girl can be a pain in the butt.
(22:59:33) Cronrus: yay chemicals, but boo for fake tans
(22:59:40) Cronrus: I happen to like pasty
(23:00:09) kitsplut: not super tan. just a leeeetle tan.
(23:00:58) kitsplut: #FFFFCC rather than #FFFFFF.
(23:01:36) Cronrus: that might be okay then
(22:59:11) kitsplut: being a girl can be a pain in the butt.
(22:59:33) Cronrus: yay chemicals, but boo for fake tans
(22:59:40) Cronrus: I happen to like pasty
(23:00:09) kitsplut: not super tan. just a leeeetle tan.
(23:00:58) kitsplut: #FFFFCC rather than #FFFFFF.
(23:01:36) Cronrus: that might be okay then
Sunday, March 21, 2010
chase you down until you love me
So, spring. I have pared down the Talons of Doom and am pondering which pastel pink to polish in honor of Easter season. Next weekend will be (Back to the) Egg Time. Hoping to get more than four of twelve blown out successfully this year. Then they will be filled with glitter and thrown at people's houses out my car window. Maybe. I would feel SO MUCH BETTER though.
I walked the 7.4 mile full loop around Zorinsky Lake twice last week. If I weren't nuts, I would stay at Chalco after work and walk that one since I'm there, but the extra 1.4 miles makes all the difference...sure. It's nice to plug into Chiquita and not have to think about anything for an hour and three-quarters or so. I gave up on the running thing until I've shed some more boom, because I can just see Klutzy McBoneless in a cast this time, and no kthx. Finally sucked it up and made the Annual Female Trauma appointment with the doctor I've used since I moved up here, and I am going to ream her out this time if she pisses me off, and then that will be it. I need to remember that I can do this, that no one can be nastier than me if I really put my mind to it. ASK PUNKIN; we used to live together.
I have a full day review for the first part of the CGFM exam in Bellevue on Thursday. I know it's at the (fake) university there but not what building or what room or anything. If I haven't received sufficient e-mail detail by Tuesday, I'm going to start working my way down the phone tree like Donkey Kong Jr. Hoping that there will be no lunch provided, because then I'll have to disappear like a ninja and that will be difficult if I'm still stumbling around with a gutful of snot by then. BOYLIED ABOUT HAVING ALLERGIES; Mom claims this is grounds for justifiable homicide, and I'd consider that but there's a lot of spring yard work I need him to do before I tiptoe in and smother him in his sleep.
Or I could just hire a lawn service.
P and JL were talking about fishing on Friday. I think it would be really neat if you could fish for birds, only I don't think "birding" would be a good name for it, but there could be little helium sacs on the lines instead of the bobbing things that float on the water so they'd stay up in the sky, and you could have kind of a snare trap instead of a hook, and actually what you'd need to do is have a golden ring maybe a foot in diameter with about a thousand lines on it and wear a little glider, and once you'd caught enough birds you could rise up into the sky behind them. Probably it would be better to have someone follow you in a truck like for hot air balloons. So I expounded on this at length, and they were all YES, THIS. Then I went home early because Servicemaster was coming to steam-clean the bathrooms at two, and I took that as a Sign.
TheLAST new batch of snow has almost all melted off. Any time now, Mr. Sun. But please don't put on an angry face and attack us like in Mario 3. I'm not ready yet.
I walked the 7.4 mile full loop around Zorinsky Lake twice last week. If I weren't nuts, I would stay at Chalco after work and walk that one since I'm there, but the extra 1.4 miles makes all the difference...sure. It's nice to plug into Chiquita and not have to think about anything for an hour and three-quarters or so. I gave up on the running thing until I've shed some more boom, because I can just see Klutzy McBoneless in a cast this time, and no kthx. Finally sucked it up and made the Annual Female Trauma appointment with the doctor I've used since I moved up here, and I am going to ream her out this time if she pisses me off, and then that will be it. I need to remember that I can do this, that no one can be nastier than me if I really put my mind to it. ASK PUNKIN; we used to live together.
I have a full day review for the first part of the CGFM exam in Bellevue on Thursday. I know it's at the (fake) university there but not what building or what room or anything. If I haven't received sufficient e-mail detail by Tuesday, I'm going to start working my way down the phone tree like Donkey Kong Jr. Hoping that there will be no lunch provided, because then I'll have to disappear like a ninja and that will be difficult if I'm still stumbling around with a gutful of snot by then. BOYLIED ABOUT HAVING ALLERGIES; Mom claims this is grounds for justifiable homicide, and I'd consider that but there's a lot of spring yard work I need him to do before I tiptoe in and smother him in his sleep.
Or I could just hire a lawn service.
P and JL were talking about fishing on Friday. I think it would be really neat if you could fish for birds, only I don't think "birding" would be a good name for it, but there could be little helium sacs on the lines instead of the bobbing things that float on the water so they'd stay up in the sky, and you could have kind of a snare trap instead of a hook, and actually what you'd need to do is have a golden ring maybe a foot in diameter with about a thousand lines on it and wear a little glider, and once you'd caught enough birds you could rise up into the sky behind them. Probably it would be better to have someone follow you in a truck like for hot air balloons. So I expounded on this at length, and they were all YES, THIS. Then I went home early because Servicemaster was coming to steam-clean the bathrooms at two, and I took that as a Sign.
The
Friday, March 12, 2010
for the me you're always dreaming of
SO, it was board week, and it was vile (although I managed to suppress the Twitter stream of vicious bile this time), and I ditched work at one today. Then I stopped by my old job to drop off a contraband computer while the Greater and Lesser Demons were out of state, and spent half an hour or so catching up with someone I had not seen in quite a while. And it was fine until I heard the other voice. THEN, boom, hate myself and want to die.
BUT
I am permitted to attend a governmental accounting conference in COLUMBIA, in May, with my mommy, so I can pretend that it's 1998 and she's taking me down to register and everything is going to be peachy keen okay; I think after everything I can allow myself two days of total mindfuck if I deem it necessary. I think I didn't cry today because I'm saving it for wandering around campus, and then I'm seriously going to let loose, and it will be therapeutic. Then the next week is the other conference in KC when I get to see Mlle la Bisquitte, so that month will contain more travel than the twenty-two before it put together. I totally lied when I promised I'd come back.
I need to get clothes for all this since I have nothing seasonally appropriate that I have a remote chance of fitting into by May. Someone noticed yesterday that I have lost weight...like about an eighth of what I need to lose before I stop hating on myself. I'm going to burn the two suits I bought for interviewing before I got this job, because they reek of despair and obesity, and I can't even stand to look at them.
In a couple of weeks I will have to sit through a baby shower lunch for a girl at work. I already warned J that I am not going to engage well, because I have a real phobia of pregnant women and babies in general. I KNOW I AM A HORRIBLE PERSON, but even the idea of a little alien baby growing inside me like a tumor makes me want to vomit. I have never, at any time in my life, even when little and playing with dolls, thought even wistfully in passing, gee, I might like to have a kid someday. I'm all for breeding as long as I'm not expected to participate. S thinks it's this huge joke and will tell anyone who will listen about the time I went to pick her up at her other job in a bead store and encountered a toddler. It was running around the store and plopped down right in my path, and I stepped around it probably more widely than necessary because I was afraid it was going to start running again and trip me up like the cats. She ALWAYS tells people that I looked at it like it was "a pile of dog crap" and laughs hysterically. I did not either. I looked at it like it was a pile of plastic explosives. SUBTLE DIFFERENCE.
It snowed again yesterday, heavily, in large, wet flakes that would have been beautiful if I were not absolutely DONE WITH SNOW UNTIL 2018...had to run out back and put plastic tubs over the bulbs that had already started to sprout. In theory, there will be iris, crocus, daffodil, hyacinth, and something I forget behind the house. Target had a display of seed packets for climbing plants, so we bought some sweetpea (sigh), morning glory (TEE HEE), and moon flowers (...) to plant along the fence. I wish in my heart of hearts that I were a gardening person. I love the idea of gardening. Unfortunately, I am never going to be someone who wants to get down in the dirt except for novelty purposes once a year or so.
I wore sandals even though it was snowing. Because those are the shoes that go with the outfit I had selected to wear for the board meeting. And if I let the snow dictate my life, THEN THE TERRORISTS WIN. And it's spring somewhere anyway.
BUT
I am permitted to attend a governmental accounting conference in COLUMBIA, in May, with my mommy, so I can pretend that it's 1998 and she's taking me down to register and everything is going to be peachy keen okay; I think after everything I can allow myself two days of total mindfuck if I deem it necessary. I think I didn't cry today because I'm saving it for wandering around campus, and then I'm seriously going to let loose, and it will be therapeutic. Then the next week is the other conference in KC when I get to see Mlle la Bisquitte, so that month will contain more travel than the twenty-two before it put together. I totally lied when I promised I'd come back.
I need to get clothes for all this since I have nothing seasonally appropriate that I have a remote chance of fitting into by May. Someone noticed yesterday that I have lost weight...like about an eighth of what I need to lose before I stop hating on myself. I'm going to burn the two suits I bought for interviewing before I got this job, because they reek of despair and obesity, and I can't even stand to look at them.
In a couple of weeks I will have to sit through a baby shower lunch for a girl at work. I already warned J that I am not going to engage well, because I have a real phobia of pregnant women and babies in general. I KNOW I AM A HORRIBLE PERSON, but even the idea of a little alien baby growing inside me like a tumor makes me want to vomit. I have never, at any time in my life, even when little and playing with dolls, thought even wistfully in passing, gee, I might like to have a kid someday. I'm all for breeding as long as I'm not expected to participate. S thinks it's this huge joke and will tell anyone who will listen about the time I went to pick her up at her other job in a bead store and encountered a toddler. It was running around the store and plopped down right in my path, and I stepped around it probably more widely than necessary because I was afraid it was going to start running again and trip me up like the cats. She ALWAYS tells people that I looked at it like it was "a pile of dog crap" and laughs hysterically. I did not either. I looked at it like it was a pile of plastic explosives. SUBTLE DIFFERENCE.
It snowed again yesterday, heavily, in large, wet flakes that would have been beautiful if I were not absolutely DONE WITH SNOW UNTIL 2018...had to run out back and put plastic tubs over the bulbs that had already started to sprout. In theory, there will be iris, crocus, daffodil, hyacinth, and something I forget behind the house. Target had a display of seed packets for climbing plants, so we bought some sweetpea (sigh), morning glory (TEE HEE), and moon flowers (...) to plant along the fence. I wish in my heart of hearts that I were a gardening person. I love the idea of gardening. Unfortunately, I am never going to be someone who wants to get down in the dirt except for novelty purposes once a year or so.
I wore sandals even though it was snowing. Because those are the shoes that go with the outfit I had selected to wear for the board meeting. And if I let the snow dictate my life, THEN THE TERRORISTS WIN. And it's spring somewhere anyway.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
angelsnakedance
I am trying to decide if I will go to my first spinning class in two years tomorrow morning or if I will stay home and play with my elliptical. I want to go to spinning, because a) I need to practice for when I am no longer living in Hoth and can ride my real bicycle and b) it is nonimpact and my right hip is just so angry at me about the last two days I cannot even tell you. BUT THERE WILL BE PEOPLE THERE, AND THEY WILL LOOK AT ME WITH THEIR SHINY LITTLE EYES AND PROCESS INFORMATION ABOUT ME INTO THEIR LITTLE HIVE BRAINS, AND I WILL CRY.
I was pleasantly surprised that Aleve actually works. I never expect painkillers to work, so I hardly ever bother to take any, and that is probably why they do work. I have to ignore the pain and think positive, reinforcing thoughts for the next six weeks or so until it stops being a whiny bitch. I know it's just because I have babied that leg since I broke it AGAIN a couple years ago, and I need to be stretching better on that side, but the small animal instinctive part of my brain is convinced that all my bones are blown glass forever and so I need to sit very still at all times but for lashing my tail about furiously.
The postman delivered to my house a packet of Sailormoon cards that flew all the way from Buckinghamshire to be slipped lovingly into little plastic sheets and then stored under my bed. I had to check Wiki so I could visualize where in England that even is. Hooray for American public school education, sigh. I guess even knowing that's in England puts me in the 90th percentile.
I would definitely have preferred a real waterfall with unicorns to The Waterfall Lounge. I sucked down diet Coke and listened to S and her boyfriend and P chatter and surprisingly managed to stay mostly engaged. They ate fried things and some bird lumps and are forever in my good graces for asking me only one time if I wanted anything. They are pretty used to me after a year and a half. S's boy expressed some incredulity at that I just don't drink but dropped it within an acceptable space. I need to make up some fantastic back story that will make people sorry they asked. I usually just point out gently that I have quite enough problems without, and aren't I scary enough stone cold sober?
Getting up at 4:45 makes me reallyreallyreally tired now. After lo! these many years, sleeping is still the most fun game. HANDS DOWN.
My uncle is on Facebook and has posted his birth year as 1974 instead of 1962. I am bemused. I have added his two older children but am not very close with any of my cousins since they all grew up in Texas or Las Vegas and...yeah. So it goes.
I was pleasantly surprised that Aleve actually works. I never expect painkillers to work, so I hardly ever bother to take any, and that is probably why they do work. I have to ignore the pain and think positive, reinforcing thoughts for the next six weeks or so until it stops being a whiny bitch. I know it's just because I have babied that leg since I broke it AGAIN a couple years ago, and I need to be stretching better on that side, but the small animal instinctive part of my brain is convinced that all my bones are blown glass forever and so I need to sit very still at all times but for lashing my tail about furiously.
The postman delivered to my house a packet of Sailormoon cards that flew all the way from Buckinghamshire to be slipped lovingly into little plastic sheets and then stored under my bed. I had to check Wiki so I could visualize where in England that even is. Hooray for American public school education, sigh. I guess even knowing that's in England puts me in the 90th percentile.
I would definitely have preferred a real waterfall with unicorns to The Waterfall Lounge. I sucked down diet Coke and listened to S and her boyfriend and P chatter and surprisingly managed to stay mostly engaged. They ate fried things and some bird lumps and are forever in my good graces for asking me only one time if I wanted anything. They are pretty used to me after a year and a half. S's boy expressed some incredulity at that I just don't drink but dropped it within an acceptable space. I need to make up some fantastic back story that will make people sorry they asked. I usually just point out gently that I have quite enough problems without, and aren't I scary enough stone cold sober?
Getting up at 4:45 makes me reallyreallyreally tired now. After lo! these many years, sleeping is still the most fun game. HANDS DOWN.
My uncle is on Facebook and has posted his birth year as 1974 instead of 1962. I am bemused. I have added his two older children but am not very close with any of my cousins since they all grew up in Texas or Las Vegas and...yeah. So it goes.
Monday, March 1, 2010
track it down, take a picture, and tape it to your eyes
The only reason no one was mercilessly eviscerated today was that I knew the complete set of Wedding Peach manga was waiting on my doorstep. I am somewhat disappointed that the English translation uses "Sacred Four Somethings" instead of "Saint Something Four," because that made me love the whole universe every time they said it in the anime.
It's almost time for the Amazing Six-Month-Long Budget Process from Hell, which will overlap with Amazing Six-Month-Long Audit, which isn't so bad, and I have exactly one day less than four months to completely redo the entire accounting system in software none of us have used before! I think I flipped tails.*
Notes of Dubious Interest:
My new shoes are here. In eight weeks, I will either be able to run for half an hour at a time or will have another broken hip. *HEADS IT'S A PARTY, TAILS YOU DIE.
Baby had a bath today, and now you can tell it isblueblack again. Saturns are mostly plastic, thus rustless, but I wish I knew how the underneath bits are holding up. I let them do the 10000000000 mile inspection last time her oil was changed, but I don't know if they would think to mention that.
The Zombies were hugely underrated. Also, I really, really wish the Turtles would come back for another concert, because I don't know that I've had as much fun at any time since then. And that was pre-kitten.
Sonya: So would you go with us to the waterfall tomorrow? Just because?
K-hime: Sure. Where is it?
Sonya: It's the one down 168th past Cornhusker.
K-hime: ...Oh. A bar, not, like, a real waterfall.
Sonya: HA HA HA, yes, a real waterfall, and there will be unicorns!
K-hime: stfu.
It's almost time for the Amazing Six-Month-Long Budget Process from Hell, which will overlap with Amazing Six-Month-Long Audit, which isn't so bad, and I have exactly one day less than four months to completely redo the entire accounting system in software none of us have used before! I think I flipped tails.*
Notes of Dubious Interest:
My new shoes are here. In eight weeks, I will either be able to run for half an hour at a time or will have another broken hip. *HEADS IT'S A PARTY, TAILS YOU DIE.
Baby had a bath today, and now you can tell it is
The Zombies were hugely underrated. Also, I really, really wish the Turtles would come back for another concert, because I don't know that I've had as much fun at any time since then. And that was pre-kitten.
Sonya: So would you go with us to the waterfall tomorrow? Just because?
K-hime: Sure. Where is it?
Sonya: It's the one down 168th past Cornhusker.
K-hime: ...Oh. A bar, not, like, a real waterfall.
Sonya: HA HA HA, yes, a real waterfall, and there will be unicorns!
K-hime: stfu.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
morning to the end of the day
SO ANYWAY, aside from my career as a little texting machine, I've been having a string of extremely depressed days. The birds have returned, and they chirp chirp chirp in the mornings, so I get up and think it's April, and then I look outside at two feet of snow still on the ground and wither and die.
Last Saturday I watched Slayers Next straight through for the 10000000000000th time. This Saturday we watched Slayers Try straight through, which I had never done before. 26 half-hour episodes take ten hours if you skip through most openings and endings, and we ordered Papa John's, and it all made me feel like spring break 2000. I guess that's okay.
Then I stayed home "sick" yesterday because I was angry angry angry that I was born in a world without magic and I have to be an accountant and I live in Nebraska and I'm old and fat and no longer the main character, and I cannot be the Perky Princess at work when I get that way. Everyone thought I was sick still today, because I was quiet. I hadn't realized that I'm a noisy little bitch, but apparently. A friend was babbling about immortality research, which makes me curl up in a corner and quiver. I cannot contemplate THIS, endlessly. THIS for another fifty years is just about all anyone could ever expect from me.
I NEED A ROAD TRIP like what whoa, but everywhere within two tanks of gas is also under two feet of snow, so it would serve no purpose. I want to go out west sooooo much, whiiiine.
If anyone recalls my complaints about professional organizations a few months ago, karma has again taken my neck into its vise-like jaws, and I am guilted into being the secretary of the Omaha Metro chapter of Whatever No One Cares. This means I have to attend the district leadership meeting in KC in May (oh noes). The silver linings of this are 1) I have to drive down Thursday night so get to skip out on board, and 2) someone will be paying my mileage to go hang out with Unicorn Hunter Biskit afterward. I need to go down in June so we can try to get kicked out of Shakespeare in the Park again, except that there are always tornadoes if I go to KC in June. Empirically proven.
I need to make my girldoctor appointment, because I have but one refill of anti-hemorrhage pills, but I am loath do to so because she is going to try to pump me full of antidepressants again. (Note: anyone who extols the virtues of such in my comments is going to get dumped off all my social-media lists faster than you knew data could transfer.)
THE $900 SPACE VACUUM CAME HOME TODAY I was so happy. No matter how clean the house is, it looks like filth if the carpet is dirty. I am displeased, however, that it didn't even take a year to clog up badly enough to need $100 of professional help. I have two cats with mid-length fur, and I don't remember vacuuming up any balloons.
today will be better, I swear
Last Saturday I watched Slayers Next straight through for the 10000000000000th time. This Saturday we watched Slayers Try straight through, which I had never done before. 26 half-hour episodes take ten hours if you skip through most openings and endings, and we ordered Papa John's, and it all made me feel like spring break 2000. I guess that's okay.
Then I stayed home "sick" yesterday because I was angry angry angry that I was born in a world without magic and I have to be an accountant and I live in Nebraska and I'm old and fat and no longer the main character, and I cannot be the Perky Princess at work when I get that way. Everyone thought I was sick still today, because I was quiet. I hadn't realized that I'm a noisy little bitch, but apparently. A friend was babbling about immortality research, which makes me curl up in a corner and quiver. I cannot contemplate THIS, endlessly. THIS for another fifty years is just about all anyone could ever expect from me.
I NEED A ROAD TRIP like what whoa, but everywhere within two tanks of gas is also under two feet of snow, so it would serve no purpose. I want to go out west sooooo much, whiiiine.
If anyone recalls my complaints about professional organizations a few months ago, karma has again taken my neck into its vise-like jaws, and I am guilted into being the secretary of the Omaha Metro chapter of Whatever No One Cares. This means I have to attend the district leadership meeting in KC in May (oh noes). The silver linings of this are 1) I have to drive down Thursday night so get to skip out on board, and 2) someone will be paying my mileage to go hang out with Unicorn Hunter Biskit afterward. I need to go down in June so we can try to get kicked out of Shakespeare in the Park again, except that there are always tornadoes if I go to KC in June. Empirically proven.
I need to make my girldoctor appointment, because I have but one refill of anti-hemorrhage pills, but I am loath do to so because she is going to try to pump me full of antidepressants again. (Note: anyone who extols the virtues of such in my comments is going to get dumped off all my social-media lists faster than you knew data could transfer.)
THE $900 SPACE VACUUM CAME HOME TODAY I was so happy. No matter how clean the house is, it looks like filth if the carpet is dirty. I am displeased, however, that it didn't even take a year to clog up badly enough to need $100 of professional help. I have two cats with mid-length fur, and I don't remember vacuuming up any balloons.
today will be better, I swear
Saturday, February 20, 2010
why they should confiscate my phone at the door
This really ought not be recorded for posterity, but....
(B) Just puked at work. Romaine lettuce CAN come out your nose - don't let no one tell you different.
(K) I don't know what I'd do without you to tell me these things.
(K) Like how I'd get butt worms if I don't drink tequila with sushi. SAVED MY LIFE.
(B)Pretty much just drink tequila with everything to be safe. Then you'll be puking a lot, so also never eat lettuce.
(B) TEQUILA = YES. LETTUCE = NO. UNICORNS = SWISS DISCOTHEQUE.
(K) I am going to embroider that into a sampler.
(B) I'm using "If Almanzo liked it, he should have built a shanty on it".
(K) Maybe we can convince that chick to join our intrepid band of UNICORN HUNTAAS.
(B) That just made me slightly hysterical. Methinks I need some quinine. Don't forget the Stone of Speaking for our journey.
(B) Also, we probably need a virgin to catch unicorns, but I'm NOT bringing Rob.
(K) I think mine grew back. We can take Spook as a backup.
(B) Queen Elizabeth I revirginized herself and so can you. Who's more of a girl in case you die? Spook or Rob?
(K) They're both Muppets. What about hermaphroditic virgins?
(B) HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH I love you.
(K) Now I wonder if unicorns appear to rape victims. Do they have any discretion at all? Blind justice vs. pure justice. Let's ask Pelu.
(B) What about the lesbionics? Some guys don't think that's "really" sex. Are male unicorns ignorant douchebags?
(B) This is why it's so important for us to conduct this work.
(K) There must be grants we can apply for.
(B) Just puked at work. Romaine lettuce CAN come out your nose - don't let no one tell you different.
(K) I don't know what I'd do without you to tell me these things.
(K) Like how I'd get butt worms if I don't drink tequila with sushi. SAVED MY LIFE.
(B)Pretty much just drink tequila with everything to be safe. Then you'll be puking a lot, so also never eat lettuce.
(B) TEQUILA = YES. LETTUCE = NO. UNICORNS = SWISS DISCOTHEQUE.
(K) I am going to embroider that into a sampler.
(B) I'm using "If Almanzo liked it, he should have built a shanty on it".
(K) Maybe we can convince that chick to join our intrepid band of UNICORN HUNTAAS.
(B) That just made me slightly hysterical. Methinks I need some quinine. Don't forget the Stone of Speaking for our journey.
(B) Also, we probably need a virgin to catch unicorns, but I'm NOT bringing Rob.
(K) I think mine grew back. We can take Spook as a backup.
(B) Queen Elizabeth I revirginized herself and so can you. Who's more of a girl in case you die? Spook or Rob?
(K) They're both Muppets. What about hermaphroditic virgins?
(B) HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH I love you.
(K) Now I wonder if unicorns appear to rape victims. Do they have any discretion at all? Blind justice vs. pure justice. Let's ask Pelu.
(B) What about the lesbionics? Some guys don't think that's "really" sex. Are male unicorns ignorant douchebags?
(B) This is why it's so important for us to conduct this work.
(K) There must be grants we can apply for.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
texts from last night, Lime Girl style
I would name it "Cervidae's Bane," slay me some Princess antlers, and lead the Wild Hunt.
Maybe [redacted] is a hermaphrodite. Let's put him behind a TV and see if he poops.
YOU WOULDN'T WANT ANY LESBIAN INCEST KYTTYNZ.
Apple Snickers salad is morally reprehensible.
We will wear sea green silk with crinolines and promenade along the river banks, then lure the demons with bits of cheese.
Tied up in van on way to Twilight movie. Please detonate bomb in 10m.
THE URINE OF OUR WHALES IS NO LAUGHING MATTER.
Is it weird that I find Lee Harvey Oswald kind of hot? And have I already asked you that?
I stepped barefoot into cat shit like 20 min ago. If we were together it would be a partay.
We should write a cartoon called "You eat, you poop, you die, no one cares."
Just stop offering old men threesomes on their way home!
Maybe we should start a cult. Seeing as how we're not joiners.
You have now earned three more lives.
Then, since you reminded me, spent 20m looking at Google image search of Xelloss on my phone and now have only 10m left not to throw up.
FYI, dry erase marker does not erase well from banana.
Maybe [redacted] is a hermaphrodite. Let's put him behind a TV and see if he poops.
YOU WOULDN'T WANT ANY LESBIAN INCEST KYTTYNZ.
Apple Snickers salad is morally reprehensible.
We will wear sea green silk with crinolines and promenade along the river banks, then lure the demons with bits of cheese.
Tied up in van on way to Twilight movie. Please detonate bomb in 10m.
THE URINE OF OUR WHALES IS NO LAUGHING MATTER.
Is it weird that I find Lee Harvey Oswald kind of hot? And have I already asked you that?
I stepped barefoot into cat shit like 20 min ago. If we were together it would be a partay.
We should write a cartoon called "You eat, you poop, you die, no one cares."
Just stop offering old men threesomes on their way home!
Maybe we should start a cult. Seeing as how we're not joiners.
You have now earned three more lives.
Then, since you reminded me, spent 20m looking at Google image search of Xelloss on my phone and now have only 10m left not to throw up.
FYI, dry erase marker does not erase well from banana.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Lady Samantha glides like a tiger
Apparently my sister has attracted some little boy into following her around, and she asked my mom how to get rid of it (answer: hammer, tongs, heavy gloves). Spook just needs to have me call him so that I can explain the crazy and why it's best not to get involved. I told Mom this, and she said that he probably doesn't want anything to do with the family and just wants to sleep with her. I said I KNOW, BUT WE ARE TOO CRAZY EVEN FOR THAT. She gave birth to us; she of all people should grok that. WE ARE THE KIND OF CRAZY YOU DON'T WANT TO MESS WITH EVEN IN PASSING. I can give you REFERENCES.
I'm serious about Cervidae's Bane. I wish I didn't have this little world in my head, because it's hard to ignore it in favor of the external side.
I'm serious about Cervidae's Bane. I wish I didn't have this little world in my head, because it's hard to ignore it in favor of the external side.
Monday, October 19, 2009
try explaining it to the Capellan overlords
So I am home. I brought Electra, but Dad has no idea what his WPA key is, and I am too tired to get in the router and change it tonight. My plans for watching cartoons on Netflix are THWARTED.
HOWEVER, there is cable TV here. I have not had cable TV since I moved out. I am sleeping out in the sunroom, which was Mom's bedroom, because my old room has been repainted (blue over pink), recarpeted, and outfitted with an inadequate hide-a-bed loveseat. ALSO I fail to understand why he thought it necessary to carpet my bathroom? Not even indoor-outdoor type carpet like in my first apartment, which was pretty nasty by the time I moved out anyway, but actual normal living-room type carpet. hork.
[note: this has not been edited for coherence although posted the next day]
2 - St. Joe local news, I think. I want to slap this weather guy into 1957.
3 - TryAbCircle.com N K THX
4 - baseball. is this baseball time of year? isn't that done? aren't football and baseball mutually exclusive? sigh.
8 - is this local access? This used to be NWMSU's weird RGB weather type scrolling text channel. All the channels are different and I want to know where 5 and 6 went. 7 was HBO and we never got that.
9 - "We're on television and Facebook!" and you won't find me on either.
10 - This show is called "Praise the Lord." I am trying to imagine who watches Praise the Lord at 11:00pm Central. I picture elderly women in print muumuus sitting on 1970s polyester paisley couches with many cats in a wood-paneled living room decorated with velvet Jesus and Elvis paintings in a 1:1 ratio. To be fair, I'm kind of thinking about my great-grandmother...Wow. Now there's a stagecoach and horses. OMG PONIES so far this is winning; do I get an honorary muumuu?
11 - This appears still to be Kansas City PBS but it's full of singing men in cowboy hats and earrings on a stage with a projection of the White House in the background. Note: TV is on mute.
12 - Gyrating skank-type in spandex and sequins on another stage that looks kind of like the bridge on the original Enterprise. Next.
13 - Race cars. Nascar? This rates second to the ponies to date.
14 - I think this is a movie. Some guy and a lady and her son who is wearing a letter jacket to bed? It looks like there is a mummified pterodactyl hanging from the ceiling. There is a bowl of bananas. I prefer plantains to bananas.
15 - William Shatner is angry and wearing a suit. Sing Lucy in the Sky! Please?!?
16 - A nerdy guy in a business suit and a woman in a really ugly white pantsuit are putting some kind of belt on another man in gym shorts and projecting some kind of thermographic showing increase to core body temperature. OKAY I totally thought this was a sitcom but apparently it really is an infomercial. God Bless America.
17 - Master Prep Quad Blade Food and Drink Maker. QVC currently ranks #1, ponies lose by a nose. whoa, I think that guy just pureed a ham.
19 - Winning-2009.com. Is everything infomercials after 11? sad.
20 - this has commercials on top and like TV guide on the bottom third of the screen? I don't understand. So many things in the world that I do not understand.
23 - apparently ESPN hires a lot of very intent bronze-blonde fortyish women reporters. This is football, not baseball. AAAARRRRGH
24 - this is also football. this can't be live at this hour, can it? it is a Halloween game; the orange team is playing against the black team. Oh, shit, it's Mizzou and they're losing. Come on, guys, try a little harder, I don't care how hard you suck as long as it's less than Nebraska.
25 - All Night Poker. Who thought that was exciting enough to televise?
26 - more sports of some ilk. it makes me angry. a n g r y
27 - Really, truly terrifying GEICO commercial. I refuse ever to have GEICO just because of the commercials.
28 - Still MTV. At least some things are consistent. And they consistently do not play videos. Has radio turned about and killed the video star? I hate to admit that the DVD collection of McCartney videos I got is pretty much uniformly unfortunate.
29 - some boy biking on an obstacle course at night near a giant inflatable Mountain Dew bottle. Has a helmet but no elbow pads, C+
30 - Sorority Wars world premiere. seriously? ngh2wpp3qr279
31 - I think these are the balloon people on CNN. I want to build a balloon and run away in it so I need to lose 100 pounds immediately for it to be feasible. It's good to set achievable goals and what were we talking about again?
32 - A&E. lots of people in police uniforms. Not sure if they are actually supposed to be police. Explosions. Man whose cheekbones are about to pop out of his skull and take over the world.
33 - Team of men in helmets and orange shirts with reflective tape. I would like to take part in an activity that requires such gear one time anyway. They're getting into a helicopter. I'm not very interested in helicopters. They just seem noisy. I would prefer to utilize my helmet and orange reflective shirt to ride a four-wheeler crosscountry in search of a lost ark. One of the men is now wearing what appears to be a pink hula skirt with long, wide strips of grass. I'm kind of curious about this but sense that the answer will only disappoint.
34 - TNT, whatever this is, at least I know it will be trashy. It is a show about men watching sports. FML.
35 - I am unfamiliar with FX. Talking men in business suits again. TV is 40% that, 40% sports, 20% regrettable miscellany. Aren't there supposed to be cartoon channels or something?
36 - DISNEY. if it's not That's so Raven or Lizzie McGuire, DO NOT WANT. Teenaged children on a couch watching a girl with a tiara and a golden dress freak out and hide behind a car on TV. Is this what they call meta?
37 - ooh ooh Nick at Nite....DUDE. THE NANNY? REALLY?
38 - Who actually subscribes to Better Homes and Gardens besides dentists' offices? I mean, seriously.
39 - I approve of the History Channel in theory but this appears to be entirely about baby heads.
40 - The SyFy thing is sooooooo lame that it is a physical pain in my kidney. When did this channel last not suck? 1997?
41 - Adult Swim. This is something else better in theory than in practice. I guess it wins over everything but the Quad Blade thing. I can only watch anime subtitled. I can't even tell if this is real anime or something fake. Neither can I tell what's going on, and I don't care enough to unmute. It's not Space Ghost so autofail.
42 - I think this used to be the last channel. HGTV. A man in an aqua polo shirt is caressing a wall with a truly beatified expression. A woman with a sewing machine is taking him waaaay too seriously. This might be the Extreme Home Makeover guy. I used to watch that while I lay on the floor to do isometric exercises during the Fabulous Broken Hip Incident. Except that I also watched Wife Swap because I only got the one channel and that's probably when I gave up on the world for good. "Surviving a Super Tumor" premieres tomorrow. again, seriously?
43 - The Weather Channel is a runner-up to QVC. It neither thrills nor offends. Montana Tourism Up. Good to know.
44 - TBS. I miss Dinner and a Movie with Paul and Annabelle. This movie is not Spaceballs, so NEXT.
45 - C-Span. Hives commence.
46 - Fox News Hello Goodbye.
47 - The Suze Orman Show. Is that supposed to be pronounced like "Susie"? My gut instinct is to call that adolescent affectation, but that woman looks about 45, so maybe her mom just hated her that much, I don't know, but you can change that kind of thing if you're motivated. She's gesturing wildly, kind of like a chimpanzee. This is almost interpretive dance. I'm oddly entranced.
48 - MSNBC = C-SPAN = horkhorkhork
49 - I don't know who Joy Behar is, but she looks like Laurie Partridge. I think her name was Laurie. My ideal cable lineup would be: The Partridge Family, Mary Tyler Moore, Newhart, shitty moon dub, Muppet Babies, and pre-1990 Sesame Street. You see why this is an exercise in futility. Does anyone else remember Dog City?
50 - oh my God I so do not ever want to hear about Kate Gosselin again, I am so angry that I even recognize her face that I could take an axe to something, anything, possibly this weird little white flatscreen Samsung TV that I really thought was a monitor Spook had left in here when she moved, but no.
51 - ABC Family has finally given me another pony, this one being curried by a woman wearing either a nightgown or a prom dress. She's talking to a very tan older man who reminds me of the Cryptkeeper for reasons I can't quite understand. WOW flashback to 1996.
52 - Food Network. I liked Feasting on Asphalt, both seasons. I haven't seen the waves one yet but am not sure that will work well. I really hate Paula Deen, especially when I'm on the treadmill. They're filling my screen with dead bird so this has to stop.
53 - Sloppy boy in a plaid shirt on Comedy Central. I am 98% sure he would not be funny even if I turned it up. Just a hunch. Boy is going through a phase of listening to streaming standup comedy on his pookie. GUESS WHAT. NONE OF YOU ARE FUNNY except the guy who sang the song about his kitten trying to kill him or eat him or something, and clearly that wasn't funny enough for me to remember it.
54 - The Hallmark Channel. The very name bodes ill. Kids in those little racecar things that get rolled down hills. The little blip in the lower right corner says COUNTDOWN TO HALLOWEEN, but this is so not a Halloween movie unless someone dies in his little racer car and haunts all the others. I was going to watch Are You Afraid of the Dark on YouTube tonight. Specifically the Whispering Walls one, the one with the toy factory and the creepy guy that says, "Hello, I am Leonid," because that's some funny shit right there, and the one with the girl who gets possessed by her deceased equestrienne aunt Dora, because "LET ME OUT 4 3 8" is my motto. (Note: It may be a different yet similar series of three digits but I cannot fact-check because stupid dad stupid wireless key rrrrrgh) I forgot to add that to the ideal show list some lines up.
55 - BAR FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT with an art glass sculpture? a unique sort of garden trowel? I have no idea what that hairy cowboy's got in his hand there.
56 - Navy-type men, presumably on a boat, if boats have ceiling fans inside, but I can't think why you'd have ugly lights on the ceiling like that if they weren't multi-function emergency lights for when the hurricane damages your generators and you're floating lifeless in the middle Atlantic.
57 - Stop-action Dr. Pepper commercial. I shall allow this to continue. Preferably without the scary rabbit.
58 - It's Animal Planet, but all I see are dogs. Montage of dogs. I would like to see some black bears, or maybe a Kodiak bear, or I guess a narwhal. There is this bar in a super ghetto part of St. Joe on the Avenue called The Brown Bear, and they have a big sign with a bear and I'd like to go inside someday just to see what it's like but first I need a concealed weapon permit and also a Bumpit.
59 - whoa SKULL. this is the Travel Channel. but all I see is SKULL.
60 - OUTDOOR. running dogs. They look like Mishie's dad's bird dogs. One was named Lolly and I was terrified of them even though they lived outside in a little pen thing. "Quail and Pheasant Restoration Technologies." I'm going to night school to become a certified quail restoration technologist. You have to pass a test and then work for three years under a quailmaster.
61 - beer and now cars. it's a men's health supplement commercial. if you take this, you can drink more beer and drive your car faster? you are still an a-hole. I wonder if I called the 1-888 number if I'd get Biskit's brother who works in a call center taking orders for that kind of thing. He has some great stories.
62 - wow that man really looks like a pig, maybe I should go to bed. oh god golf why is golf on TV. golf is boring in real space and also on TV. If there is no little windmill, you need to take up curling instead, or RUGBY. REAL MEN PLAY RUGBY.
63 - AMC. wow, this is pre-1985, whatever it is. lots of guns and lots of hair. I still want that Hello Kitty assault rifle.
64 - National Geographic channel. they have that? this show has like a biker gang or something knocking on people's doors and they're all shaking hands. it's New York? I don't like New York, it out-noisies the helicopters; next.
65 - OH OH OH OH OH OH OH IT'S ROSEANNE WIN WIN WIN WIN WIN wait it's on TV LAND WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY I AM NOT OLD ENOUGH FOR THAT TO BE ON TV LAND
66 - I remember TVs with little dials and you could have twelve channels because it went to 13 but didn't have a 1. So far I am still glad I don't have TV at home. I guess I would have three or four channels if I ever bring that digital converter into the house from the trunk of my car.
67 - oh wow Eddie Murphy in The Nutty Professor. I'm thinking NO.
68 - this is entirely in Spanish, even the Advil commercials. I want one in Bulgarian.
69 - I'm kind of offended that there needs to be a BET but I don't know that I can articulate the reasons.
70 - TruTV. Is this a biography? There is a man in the dark being questioned, and then shots of a bar and flashing lights. I had a TV in my room all through high school. I remember watching Caroline in the City and Friends and Frasier in maybe ninth grade and movies on the phone with Punkin but I don't remember it being this bad? When I was back home in school I would watch Golden Girls upstairs before work sometimes.
71 - this looks like the Soap Channel? Does that exist? This woman in a hospital bed has some really random bandages on her face. I want to live in their world. My name would be Corinne, and I would drive a green Ferrari. The woman I thought was my sister would actually be my grandmother, and my father would be in jail in Sierra Leone. I would be constantly fleeing from ninjas and international spies who are after the mysterious 50-carat topaz pendant I inherited on my 21st birthday.
72 - LMN. lemon? lame-n? who actually wears puffy vest jacket things? I am going to bed and hope I wake up in a parallel dimension.
[note: sadly, I did not]
HOWEVER, there is cable TV here. I have not had cable TV since I moved out. I am sleeping out in the sunroom, which was Mom's bedroom, because my old room has been repainted (blue over pink), recarpeted, and outfitted with an inadequate hide-a-bed loveseat. ALSO I fail to understand why he thought it necessary to carpet my bathroom? Not even indoor-outdoor type carpet like in my first apartment, which was pretty nasty by the time I moved out anyway, but actual normal living-room type carpet. hork.
[note: this has not been edited for coherence although posted the next day]
2 - St. Joe local news, I think. I want to slap this weather guy into 1957.
3 - TryAbCircle.com N K THX
4 - baseball. is this baseball time of year? isn't that done? aren't football and baseball mutually exclusive? sigh.
8 - is this local access? This used to be NWMSU's weird RGB weather type scrolling text channel. All the channels are different and I want to know where 5 and 6 went. 7 was HBO and we never got that.
9 - "We're on television and Facebook!" and you won't find me on either.
10 - This show is called "Praise the Lord." I am trying to imagine who watches Praise the Lord at 11:00pm Central. I picture elderly women in print muumuus sitting on 1970s polyester paisley couches with many cats in a wood-paneled living room decorated with velvet Jesus and Elvis paintings in a 1:1 ratio. To be fair, I'm kind of thinking about my great-grandmother...Wow. Now there's a stagecoach and horses. OMG PONIES so far this is winning; do I get an honorary muumuu?
11 - This appears still to be Kansas City PBS but it's full of singing men in cowboy hats and earrings on a stage with a projection of the White House in the background. Note: TV is on mute.
12 - Gyrating skank-type in spandex and sequins on another stage that looks kind of like the bridge on the original Enterprise. Next.
13 - Race cars. Nascar? This rates second to the ponies to date.
14 - I think this is a movie. Some guy and a lady and her son who is wearing a letter jacket to bed? It looks like there is a mummified pterodactyl hanging from the ceiling. There is a bowl of bananas. I prefer plantains to bananas.
15 - William Shatner is angry and wearing a suit. Sing Lucy in the Sky! Please?!?
16 - A nerdy guy in a business suit and a woman in a really ugly white pantsuit are putting some kind of belt on another man in gym shorts and projecting some kind of thermographic showing increase to core body temperature. OKAY I totally thought this was a sitcom but apparently it really is an infomercial. God Bless America.
17 - Master Prep Quad Blade Food and Drink Maker. QVC currently ranks #1, ponies lose by a nose. whoa, I think that guy just pureed a ham.
19 - Winning-2009.com. Is everything infomercials after 11? sad.
20 - this has commercials on top and like TV guide on the bottom third of the screen? I don't understand. So many things in the world that I do not understand.
23 - apparently ESPN hires a lot of very intent bronze-blonde fortyish women reporters. This is football, not baseball. AAAARRRRGH
24 - this is also football. this can't be live at this hour, can it? it is a Halloween game; the orange team is playing against the black team. Oh, shit, it's Mizzou and they're losing. Come on, guys, try a little harder, I don't care how hard you suck as long as it's less than Nebraska.
25 - All Night Poker. Who thought that was exciting enough to televise?
26 - more sports of some ilk. it makes me angry. a n g r y
27 - Really, truly terrifying GEICO commercial. I refuse ever to have GEICO just because of the commercials.
28 - Still MTV. At least some things are consistent. And they consistently do not play videos. Has radio turned about and killed the video star? I hate to admit that the DVD collection of McCartney videos I got is pretty much uniformly unfortunate.
29 - some boy biking on an obstacle course at night near a giant inflatable Mountain Dew bottle. Has a helmet but no elbow pads, C+
30 - Sorority Wars world premiere. seriously? ngh2wpp3qr279
31 - I think these are the balloon people on CNN. I want to build a balloon and run away in it so I need to lose 100 pounds immediately for it to be feasible. It's good to set achievable goals and what were we talking about again?
32 - A&E. lots of people in police uniforms. Not sure if they are actually supposed to be police. Explosions. Man whose cheekbones are about to pop out of his skull and take over the world.
33 - Team of men in helmets and orange shirts with reflective tape. I would like to take part in an activity that requires such gear one time anyway. They're getting into a helicopter. I'm not very interested in helicopters. They just seem noisy. I would prefer to utilize my helmet and orange reflective shirt to ride a four-wheeler crosscountry in search of a lost ark. One of the men is now wearing what appears to be a pink hula skirt with long, wide strips of grass. I'm kind of curious about this but sense that the answer will only disappoint.
34 - TNT, whatever this is, at least I know it will be trashy. It is a show about men watching sports. FML.
35 - I am unfamiliar with FX. Talking men in business suits again. TV is 40% that, 40% sports, 20% regrettable miscellany. Aren't there supposed to be cartoon channels or something?
36 - DISNEY. if it's not That's so Raven or Lizzie McGuire, DO NOT WANT. Teenaged children on a couch watching a girl with a tiara and a golden dress freak out and hide behind a car on TV. Is this what they call meta?
37 - ooh ooh Nick at Nite....DUDE. THE NANNY? REALLY?
38 - Who actually subscribes to Better Homes and Gardens besides dentists' offices? I mean, seriously.
39 - I approve of the History Channel in theory but this appears to be entirely about baby heads.
40 - The SyFy thing is sooooooo lame that it is a physical pain in my kidney. When did this channel last not suck? 1997?
41 - Adult Swim. This is something else better in theory than in practice. I guess it wins over everything but the Quad Blade thing. I can only watch anime subtitled. I can't even tell if this is real anime or something fake. Neither can I tell what's going on, and I don't care enough to unmute. It's not Space Ghost so autofail.
42 - I think this used to be the last channel. HGTV. A man in an aqua polo shirt is caressing a wall with a truly beatified expression. A woman with a sewing machine is taking him waaaay too seriously. This might be the Extreme Home Makeover guy. I used to watch that while I lay on the floor to do isometric exercises during the Fabulous Broken Hip Incident. Except that I also watched Wife Swap because I only got the one channel and that's probably when I gave up on the world for good. "Surviving a Super Tumor" premieres tomorrow. again, seriously?
43 - The Weather Channel is a runner-up to QVC. It neither thrills nor offends. Montana Tourism Up. Good to know.
44 - TBS. I miss Dinner and a Movie with Paul and Annabelle. This movie is not Spaceballs, so NEXT.
45 - C-Span. Hives commence.
46 - Fox News Hello Goodbye.
47 - The Suze Orman Show. Is that supposed to be pronounced like "Susie"? My gut instinct is to call that adolescent affectation, but that woman looks about 45, so maybe her mom just hated her that much, I don't know, but you can change that kind of thing if you're motivated. She's gesturing wildly, kind of like a chimpanzee. This is almost interpretive dance. I'm oddly entranced.
48 - MSNBC = C-SPAN = horkhorkhork
49 - I don't know who Joy Behar is, but she looks like Laurie Partridge. I think her name was Laurie. My ideal cable lineup would be: The Partridge Family, Mary Tyler Moore, Newhart, shitty moon dub, Muppet Babies, and pre-1990 Sesame Street. You see why this is an exercise in futility. Does anyone else remember Dog City?
50 - oh my God I so do not ever want to hear about Kate Gosselin again, I am so angry that I even recognize her face that I could take an axe to something, anything, possibly this weird little white flatscreen Samsung TV that I really thought was a monitor Spook had left in here when she moved, but no.
51 - ABC Family has finally given me another pony, this one being curried by a woman wearing either a nightgown or a prom dress. She's talking to a very tan older man who reminds me of the Cryptkeeper for reasons I can't quite understand. WOW flashback to 1996.
52 - Food Network. I liked Feasting on Asphalt, both seasons. I haven't seen the waves one yet but am not sure that will work well. I really hate Paula Deen, especially when I'm on the treadmill. They're filling my screen with dead bird so this has to stop.
53 - Sloppy boy in a plaid shirt on Comedy Central. I am 98% sure he would not be funny even if I turned it up. Just a hunch. Boy is going through a phase of listening to streaming standup comedy on his pookie. GUESS WHAT. NONE OF YOU ARE FUNNY except the guy who sang the song about his kitten trying to kill him or eat him or something, and clearly that wasn't funny enough for me to remember it.
54 - The Hallmark Channel. The very name bodes ill. Kids in those little racecar things that get rolled down hills. The little blip in the lower right corner says COUNTDOWN TO HALLOWEEN, but this is so not a Halloween movie unless someone dies in his little racer car and haunts all the others. I was going to watch Are You Afraid of the Dark on YouTube tonight. Specifically the Whispering Walls one, the one with the toy factory and the creepy guy that says, "Hello, I am Leonid," because that's some funny shit right there, and the one with the girl who gets possessed by her deceased equestrienne aunt Dora, because "LET ME OUT 4 3 8" is my motto. (Note: It may be a different yet similar series of three digits but I cannot fact-check because stupid dad stupid wireless key rrrrrgh) I forgot to add that to the ideal show list some lines up.
55 - BAR FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT with an art glass sculpture? a unique sort of garden trowel? I have no idea what that hairy cowboy's got in his hand there.
56 - Navy-type men, presumably on a boat, if boats have ceiling fans inside, but I can't think why you'd have ugly lights on the ceiling like that if they weren't multi-function emergency lights for when the hurricane damages your generators and you're floating lifeless in the middle Atlantic.
57 - Stop-action Dr. Pepper commercial. I shall allow this to continue. Preferably without the scary rabbit.
58 - It's Animal Planet, but all I see are dogs. Montage of dogs. I would like to see some black bears, or maybe a Kodiak bear, or I guess a narwhal. There is this bar in a super ghetto part of St. Joe on the Avenue called The Brown Bear, and they have a big sign with a bear and I'd like to go inside someday just to see what it's like but first I need a concealed weapon permit and also a Bumpit.
59 - whoa SKULL. this is the Travel Channel. but all I see is SKULL.
60 - OUTDOOR. running dogs. They look like Mishie's dad's bird dogs. One was named Lolly and I was terrified of them even though they lived outside in a little pen thing. "Quail and Pheasant Restoration Technologies." I'm going to night school to become a certified quail restoration technologist. You have to pass a test and then work for three years under a quailmaster.
61 - beer and now cars. it's a men's health supplement commercial. if you take this, you can drink more beer and drive your car faster? you are still an a-hole. I wonder if I called the 1-888 number if I'd get Biskit's brother who works in a call center taking orders for that kind of thing. He has some great stories.
62 - wow that man really looks like a pig, maybe I should go to bed. oh god golf why is golf on TV. golf is boring in real space and also on TV. If there is no little windmill, you need to take up curling instead, or RUGBY. REAL MEN PLAY RUGBY.
63 - AMC. wow, this is pre-1985, whatever it is. lots of guns and lots of hair. I still want that Hello Kitty assault rifle.
64 - National Geographic channel. they have that? this show has like a biker gang or something knocking on people's doors and they're all shaking hands. it's New York? I don't like New York, it out-noisies the helicopters; next.
65 - OH OH OH OH OH OH OH IT'S ROSEANNE WIN WIN WIN WIN WIN wait it's on TV LAND WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY I AM NOT OLD ENOUGH FOR THAT TO BE ON TV LAND
66 - I remember TVs with little dials and you could have twelve channels because it went to 13 but didn't have a 1. So far I am still glad I don't have TV at home. I guess I would have three or four channels if I ever bring that digital converter into the house from the trunk of my car.
67 - oh wow Eddie Murphy in The Nutty Professor. I'm thinking NO.
68 - this is entirely in Spanish, even the Advil commercials. I want one in Bulgarian.
69 - I'm kind of offended that there needs to be a BET but I don't know that I can articulate the reasons.
70 - TruTV. Is this a biography? There is a man in the dark being questioned, and then shots of a bar and flashing lights. I had a TV in my room all through high school. I remember watching Caroline in the City and Friends and Frasier in maybe ninth grade and movies on the phone with Punkin but I don't remember it being this bad? When I was back home in school I would watch Golden Girls upstairs before work sometimes.
71 - this looks like the Soap Channel? Does that exist? This woman in a hospital bed has some really random bandages on her face. I want to live in their world. My name would be Corinne, and I would drive a green Ferrari. The woman I thought was my sister would actually be my grandmother, and my father would be in jail in Sierra Leone. I would be constantly fleeing from ninjas and international spies who are after the mysterious 50-carat topaz pendant I inherited on my 21st birthday.
72 - LMN. lemon? lame-n? who actually wears puffy vest jacket things? I am going to bed and hope I wake up in a parallel dimension.
[note: sadly, I did not]
Saturday, October 17, 2009
the past is a grotesque animal
I really, really, REALLY needed coffee this morning, so I thought I'd drive through the Scooters near the house and get latte, since I abhor the work coffee and have not yet dug out my four-cup (two mug) Hello Kitty coffee maker for the cube. I made it all the way to the parking lot and then had to turn around and leave because even the thought of talking to the little man in the window was much too overwhelming. THEN, since this is of course the ideal thing for me during a phobic phase, tonight I had to sit in an Outback and watch other people eat. Was not very excited about that. HOWEVER, it has come to my attention that I can watch YouTube on my phone if I'm not concerned about clarity of subtitle, so the evening was not a total waste.
Since I have clearly self-destructive tendencies, I signed up for an AGA lunch meeting next week located in a building downtown approximately thirty minutes away from work, because I need to work harder at pretending I give a flying hork at the moooooon about my career. I would join the American Society of Women Accountants to further fluff my resume, but work will only pay for one professional membership, and I already belong to two organizations. "Belong" defined as "pay $$$ dues to and receive irrelevant newsletters from." I cannot yet bring myself to participate actively in any of these. Rooms full of short-haired, suited women who are older than me and don't think I'm very cute or funny yet expect me to eat in front of them just DO NOT APPEAL. I am attending a professional development conference in Bellevue in November, and the idea of it makes me want to vomit. If I could make B or JL go with me, it would be easier, but unfortunately I am supposed to be the big mommy accountant. Whose misguided idea was that? Today the big mommy accountant had to take too many phone calls in a row and subsequently sat in a corner with the stuffed skunk for seven minutes in an ineffective attempt at regrouping.
I'm still waiting for Alexis.
The waitress refilled my diet Coke three times at Outback, yet I am still having a hard time even keeping my eyes open. I had to promise myself all kinds of improbable things to get myself out of bed this morning. At least she didn't try to make me eat toast like the lady at Village Inn once when I was watching Mecha and the boy eat pancakes and bacon. NORLYKTHX
I probably need to buy a coat. I really don't like the fat-girl coat I got last year and need an interim measure until I've slimmed sufficiently for my old pink one, or perhaps a new pink one. Old pink one dates I think winter 2000, but is in fairly good condition except a persistent small spot on the sleeve that is either blood or nail polish and also where Miyu ate some of the fur.
Sometimes I miss Miyu, but I live in terror that I will have to take Miyu back. Neither kitten has ever wet the carpet. Mimi has been known to do so. I am afraid that kittenen would follow the bad example and begin an endless cycle of horror. BUT if Mom were determined to dispose of him, I couldn't let him leave the family, especially since I brought him home in the first place. A thousand years ago.
Four years ago next week was the Fantastic Broken Hip Incident of 2005. I'll tell the story if I get at least three requests, but I'll warn you in advance it's not very inspiring. As a bonus I'll throw in the Broken Leg Miracle of Tax Day 2008. It's a lot funnier now.
Since I have clearly self-destructive tendencies, I signed up for an AGA lunch meeting next week located in a building downtown approximately thirty minutes away from work, because I need to work harder at pretending I give a flying hork at the moooooon about my career. I would join the American Society of Women Accountants to further fluff my resume, but work will only pay for one professional membership, and I already belong to two organizations. "Belong" defined as "pay $$$ dues to and receive irrelevant newsletters from." I cannot yet bring myself to participate actively in any of these. Rooms full of short-haired, suited women who are older than me and don't think I'm very cute or funny yet expect me to eat in front of them just DO NOT APPEAL. I am attending a professional development conference in Bellevue in November, and the idea of it makes me want to vomit. If I could make B or JL go with me, it would be easier, but unfortunately I am supposed to be the big mommy accountant. Whose misguided idea was that? Today the big mommy accountant had to take too many phone calls in a row and subsequently sat in a corner with the stuffed skunk for seven minutes in an ineffective attempt at regrouping.
I'm still waiting for Alexis.
The waitress refilled my diet Coke three times at Outback, yet I am still having a hard time even keeping my eyes open. I had to promise myself all kinds of improbable things to get myself out of bed this morning. At least she didn't try to make me eat toast like the lady at Village Inn once when I was watching Mecha and the boy eat pancakes and bacon. NORLYKTHX
I probably need to buy a coat. I really don't like the fat-girl coat I got last year and need an interim measure until I've slimmed sufficiently for my old pink one, or perhaps a new pink one. Old pink one dates I think winter 2000, but is in fairly good condition except a persistent small spot on the sleeve that is either blood or nail polish and also where Miyu ate some of the fur.
Sometimes I miss Miyu, but I live in terror that I will have to take Miyu back. Neither kitten has ever wet the carpet. Mimi has been known to do so. I am afraid that kittenen would follow the bad example and begin an endless cycle of horror. BUT if Mom were determined to dispose of him, I couldn't let him leave the family, especially since I brought him home in the first place. A thousand years ago.
Four years ago next week was the Fantastic Broken Hip Incident of 2005. I'll tell the story if I get at least three requests, but I'll warn you in advance it's not very inspiring. As a bonus I'll throw in the Broken Leg Miracle of Tax Day 2008. It's a lot funnier now.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
present mirth hath present laughter
Let's just say I spent the weekend remembering to breathe and let it go. I am my own ghost, this indelible imprint of one moment of horror that repeats ad infinitum.
I stayed home today. Went to bed at 8:30 last night and woke up feeling worse. Could have gone in and survived okay but would have spent 7.5 hours staring at my hands. It was sunny out and I wanted to take Electra out on the deck and read clouds for a while, or maybe rake leaves into unlikely patterns. I did leave the house to return my library books and then visit Kroger to bring home apples and marked-down organic romaine heads and marvel at why the world needs bacon Easy Mac. That may be as far as I get today. I only allowed me to stay home with the idea that I'd be working on that 80000-page study guide but, as usual, lied to myself like a crazy lying thing.
I like to think about if I had been an eccentric trust fund brat and my life would be exactly like this, with the little house and my fourteen-year-old car, only I wouldn't have to work and I could enjoy the angle of the light in my living room at ten o'clock every morning and walk walk walk all over town all day long listening to Chiquita and not be such a gourddamned stress muffin because the idea of another fifty years of this is unreal and makes me cry if I can't distract myself with shiny things.
I'm sure no one intended to send me into a(nother) blazing spiral of self-loathing with an off-hand comment. "nothing against, but." I'm afraid to go to bed yet as will just lie there with my face in the pillow again and think blank, empty thoughts. Did you know I'm nothing if I'm not pretty? Absolutely nothing? J can tell me I'm a beautiful girl, and my real mother will agree, and the boy will say anything in the hopeless hope that he will someday find his way into my bed, but they lie, lie, lie to my face. The stars won't lie to me, and neither will they sing.
Diet Squirt is like Fresca's unacknowledged bastard sibling. That's not necessarily bad.
I stayed home today. Went to bed at 8:30 last night and woke up feeling worse. Could have gone in and survived okay but would have spent 7.5 hours staring at my hands. It was sunny out and I wanted to take Electra out on the deck and read clouds for a while, or maybe rake leaves into unlikely patterns. I did leave the house to return my library books and then visit Kroger to bring home apples and marked-down organic romaine heads and marvel at why the world needs bacon Easy Mac. That may be as far as I get today. I only allowed me to stay home with the idea that I'd be working on that 80000-page study guide but, as usual, lied to myself like a crazy lying thing.
I like to think about if I had been an eccentric trust fund brat and my life would be exactly like this, with the little house and my fourteen-year-old car, only I wouldn't have to work and I could enjoy the angle of the light in my living room at ten o'clock every morning and walk walk walk all over town all day long listening to Chiquita and not be such a gourddamned stress muffin because the idea of another fifty years of this is unreal and makes me cry if I can't distract myself with shiny things.
I'm sure no one intended to send me into a(nother) blazing spiral of self-loathing with an off-hand comment. "nothing against, but." I'm afraid to go to bed yet as will just lie there with my face in the pillow again and think blank, empty thoughts. Did you know I'm nothing if I'm not pretty? Absolutely nothing? J can tell me I'm a beautiful girl, and my real mother will agree, and the boy will say anything in the hopeless hope that he will someday find his way into my bed, but they lie, lie, lie to my face. The stars won't lie to me, and neither will they sing.
Diet Squirt is like Fresca's unacknowledged bastard sibling. That's not necessarily bad.
Monday, October 5, 2009
what a dream I had
Today, out of absolutely nowhere, B turned around and asked me how to spell exsanguination. I have decided I like her. J stuck a finger-sized piece of her military retirement cake under my nose, and, it being Monday, I slowly consumed it over half an hour. I pointed out to B that this must mean I like her, as most of my current and former co-workers are pretty damn sure I photosynthesize. She thought that was funnier than I did.
The gold glitter nails always make people ask me if I did them myself. It's kind of weird when men ask; I never expect them to notice.
They have started to implode my bridge without notifying me. K asked if I'd been down to watch. I thought she meant they had taken it all down and was prepared to be EXTREMELY UPSET as had Googled the poot out of it earlier and couldn't find any demolition schedule. I made a reconnaissance mission this evening and determined that they had only done part of the western approach. I need to ask where she read about it so I can find out when they're doing the rest of it and document it with bad digital pictures. I will take off work for this, because it is Important.
Coke Zero is an abomination before all the gods. No. Really.
So I have finished all my library books and am reading something by Anne Rice. I don't think this one has a vampire. I am on page 180 of 1037, and so far, no vampire. I give it back unfinished if there are vampires.
Sometimes I wish I had a large, close extended family with second cousins and third cousins and numerous aunts and uncles and that we lived as a clan in a town small enough that a clan meant something. Where people know by your name who you are. I don't know why I want that. I must secretly want to belong somewhere. To some people. Permanently.
However, top 25 reasons I should not procreate:
Overpopulation is bad for the environment. The Duggars had mine. And yours and yours and yours and yours.
Dora the Explorer. See also: Elmo.
I forget what percentage of women need episiotomies, and what percentage of those subsequently have "permanent fecal incontinence," but I DIDN'T LIKE THE ODDS.
I'd rather put myself back through college and major in something that actually interests me.
They grow up, move away, and never call.
Alternatively, they grow up and live in your basement for the rest of their lives.
OR, they call you twice a day having panic attacks. If this is genetic, I'm a carrier.
My life revolves around ME kthx. Selfish? Don't mind if I do!
Doesn't the cost of raising a child to age eighteen hover around $250,000? That's my retirement!
I can't even afford my own therapy.
The Strawberry Shortcake reboot makes me cry.
I don't need to pass on the Catholic blood guilt.
Neither do I need to pass on the lack of depth perception and lousy bone density.
I'd name her something out of a hippie fairy tale, and she'd grow up to be a stripper.
I can't even discipline two cats.
I would rather have a colonoscopy than a Pap smear. Hands down. OB-GYN? Ha ha, surely you jest.
If I had to give up caffeine for nine months, my co-workers would lie in wait with a coat hanger around week five.
The little shits would swear like fucking sailors. With goddamn Tourette's.
It might be a boy, and I'd have to drown it at birth.
It might be a girl, and I'd hate her for being younger than me.
It might take after me, and God forbid.
It might take after its dad, and I have appalling taste in men.
If I ever get my figure back, I am NOT blowing it on producing a snot factory.
My house is already child-protection-services filthy, sans children.
If I had a baby, I wouldn't BE the baby anymore.
Anyway, Eugenia would disapprove.
The gold glitter nails always make people ask me if I did them myself. It's kind of weird when men ask; I never expect them to notice.
They have started to implode my bridge without notifying me. K asked if I'd been down to watch. I thought she meant they had taken it all down and was prepared to be EXTREMELY UPSET as had Googled the poot out of it earlier and couldn't find any demolition schedule. I made a reconnaissance mission this evening and determined that they had only done part of the western approach. I need to ask where she read about it so I can find out when they're doing the rest of it and document it with bad digital pictures. I will take off work for this, because it is Important.
Coke Zero is an abomination before all the gods. No. Really.
So I have finished all my library books and am reading something by Anne Rice. I don't think this one has a vampire. I am on page 180 of 1037, and so far, no vampire. I give it back unfinished if there are vampires.
Sometimes I wish I had a large, close extended family with second cousins and third cousins and numerous aunts and uncles and that we lived as a clan in a town small enough that a clan meant something. Where people know by your name who you are. I don't know why I want that. I must secretly want to belong somewhere. To some people. Permanently.
However, top 25 reasons I should not procreate:
Overpopulation is bad for the environment. The Duggars had mine. And yours and yours and yours and yours.
Dora the Explorer. See also: Elmo.
I forget what percentage of women need episiotomies, and what percentage of those subsequently have "permanent fecal incontinence," but I DIDN'T LIKE THE ODDS.
I'd rather put myself back through college and major in something that actually interests me.
They grow up, move away, and never call.
Alternatively, they grow up and live in your basement for the rest of their lives.
OR, they call you twice a day having panic attacks. If this is genetic, I'm a carrier.
My life revolves around ME kthx. Selfish? Don't mind if I do!
Doesn't the cost of raising a child to age eighteen hover around $250,000? That's my retirement!
I can't even afford my own therapy.
The Strawberry Shortcake reboot makes me cry.
I don't need to pass on the Catholic blood guilt.
Neither do I need to pass on the lack of depth perception and lousy bone density.
I'd name her something out of a hippie fairy tale, and she'd grow up to be a stripper.
I can't even discipline two cats.
I would rather have a colonoscopy than a Pap smear. Hands down. OB-GYN? Ha ha, surely you jest.
If I had to give up caffeine for nine months, my co-workers would lie in wait with a coat hanger around week five.
The little shits would swear like fucking sailors. With goddamn Tourette's.
It might be a boy, and I'd have to drown it at birth.
It might be a girl, and I'd hate her for being younger than me.
It might take after me, and God forbid.
It might take after its dad, and I have appalling taste in men.
If I ever get my figure back, I am NOT blowing it on producing a snot factory.
My house is already child-protection-services filthy, sans children.
If I had a baby, I wouldn't BE the baby anymore.
Anyway, Eugenia would disapprove.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
to fight your demons and your bloody wars
Today's overwhelming delight was the new head for my toothbrush. I would have been an extremely bad-tempered pioneer.
I am the only person in my immediate family who wasn't allowed an English degree. It would all have been a lot different. Sometimes I get hung up on that; mostly I try to ignore it.
Kitten claws have finally been clipped before she unintentionally destroys all my clothes. I need to learn to do it myself so I don't have to wait for him to do it, but I am terrified of cutting the quick. They both get baths next weekend, because she smells kind of sour to be kissed. Pushkin probably does too, but he doesn't like to be kissed. Likely will have to be trimmed again before Halloween so they don't murder me in the struggle with costumes. I AM SO THAT PERSON.
Eugenia just jumped into my empty wicker laundry hamper.
I practiced the crown braid again today so I don't forget how, even though it's not very flattering for my fat little face right now, and someone called me Princess Leia. That is not my association there, but I guess it would be in the second two movies. And I've been called worse things.
Tomorrow I get to stay home after lunch and wait for the sprinkler man. This week is going to suck - Tuesday is subcommittee, which is going to run late and also painful, with or without the beaver; Wednesday I have to go back to purgatory, reaaaaally hoping the office empties out early because I reaaaaally am not up coping gracefully; Thursday is board night. Friday I will probably need to be an odango head.
I like my house too much. The big room has windows on three sides, and the ceiling is at least twelve feet at the highest point. LIGHT and AIR. I'm just afraid I will burn it down or end up unemployed and unemployable and lose it somehow. But maybe it's my reward for having to live in Omaha. I think I'm supposed to go pick out plants tomorrow. I would rather hide in my room kthx.
This weekend was not productive. I don't even know how I would define productive anymore.
Pushkin sits here and cries at me. He has food and water and a clean box, and he does not want to be loved. But he cries. I deserve this cat, because we are exactly alike.
I am the only person in my immediate family who wasn't allowed an English degree. It would all have been a lot different. Sometimes I get hung up on that; mostly I try to ignore it.
Kitten claws have finally been clipped before she unintentionally destroys all my clothes. I need to learn to do it myself so I don't have to wait for him to do it, but I am terrified of cutting the quick. They both get baths next weekend, because she smells kind of sour to be kissed. Pushkin probably does too, but he doesn't like to be kissed. Likely will have to be trimmed again before Halloween so they don't murder me in the struggle with costumes. I AM SO THAT PERSON.
Eugenia just jumped into my empty wicker laundry hamper.
I practiced the crown braid again today so I don't forget how, even though it's not very flattering for my fat little face right now, and someone called me Princess Leia. That is not my association there, but I guess it would be in the second two movies. And I've been called worse things.
Tomorrow I get to stay home after lunch and wait for the sprinkler man. This week is going to suck - Tuesday is subcommittee, which is going to run late and also painful, with or without the beaver; Wednesday I have to go back to purgatory, reaaaaally hoping the office empties out early because I reaaaaally am not up coping gracefully; Thursday is board night. Friday I will probably need to be an odango head.
I like my house too much. The big room has windows on three sides, and the ceiling is at least twelve feet at the highest point. LIGHT and AIR. I'm just afraid I will burn it down or end up unemployed and unemployable and lose it somehow. But maybe it's my reward for having to live in Omaha. I think I'm supposed to go pick out plants tomorrow. I would rather hide in my room kthx.
This weekend was not productive. I don't even know how I would define productive anymore.
Pushkin sits here and cries at me. He has food and water and a clean box, and he does not want to be loved. But he cries. I deserve this cat, because we are exactly alike.
Friday, September 25, 2009
starkillers
Things in the trunk of my car:
Half a Japanese newspaper
My jacket, boy's jacket
8 quarts of Kendall 10W-30
Flashlight
Digital TV converter JL gave me two months ago
Plastic lid to Pyrex baking dish
Jumper cables
Blanket
Small bag of glitter
LL Bean Snow Tracker boots
Old steering wheel cover (pink)
Deflated tiger floatie
I hate when I sharpen my eyeliner, drop shavings on the floor without noticing, tread on them in bare feet, track dark purple eyeliner smudge all over the light beige carpeting from my bathroom to the kitchen, spend half an hour with Resolve Large Area Cleaning Granules and a toothbrush removing said smudge, then decide to tackle the spots on the stairs while I'm at it, realize the circular motion with the toothbrush will lift ground-in cat hairs that the $900 space vacuum leaves behind, and then spend 1.5 hours on a Friday night cleaning the carpet on my stairs with a toothbrush. I hate that.
People need to stop telling me I need a new car. It's not like she's held together with duct tape (except the fuse door, and you can't see that unless you put your head on the passenger floor) or anything; she doesn't look ghetto. She's got that ding in the front quarter panel, but it's subtle. Maybe they think their cars will catch old car cooties from her. I do not understand people who want a new car every three years, because that is a colossal waste of money. My insurance is $425. A year.
I am suffering severe recession guilt. Not only did I not lose my job, I found a better one that paid more and have had two raises in fifteen months. I put 20% down on my house and have no debt aside from the mortgage. I still have six months' living expenses in savings. I guess my guilt is more FEAR as in, when am I going to get mine? I still like my job. I am safely ensconced in 940 acres of park; that offers countless places to hide if necessary. The only better job I could have would involve fingerpaints and maybe a chemistry set and some Legos. I'm no longer suitable for private sector employment.
My sister tells stories about me to the people she works with, and I think they are all convinced I am ten years old and/or autistic and possibly in a group home. Not that there is anything wrong with that.
Half a Japanese newspaper
My jacket, boy's jacket
8 quarts of Kendall 10W-30
Flashlight
Digital TV converter JL gave me two months ago
Plastic lid to Pyrex baking dish
Jumper cables
Blanket
Small bag of glitter
LL Bean Snow Tracker boots
Old steering wheel cover (pink)
Deflated tiger floatie
I hate when I sharpen my eyeliner, drop shavings on the floor without noticing, tread on them in bare feet, track dark purple eyeliner smudge all over the light beige carpeting from my bathroom to the kitchen, spend half an hour with Resolve Large Area Cleaning Granules and a toothbrush removing said smudge, then decide to tackle the spots on the stairs while I'm at it, realize the circular motion with the toothbrush will lift ground-in cat hairs that the $900 space vacuum leaves behind, and then spend 1.5 hours on a Friday night cleaning the carpet on my stairs with a toothbrush. I hate that.
People need to stop telling me I need a new car. It's not like she's held together with duct tape (except the fuse door, and you can't see that unless you put your head on the passenger floor) or anything; she doesn't look ghetto. She's got that ding in the front quarter panel, but it's subtle. Maybe they think their cars will catch old car cooties from her. I do not understand people who want a new car every three years, because that is a colossal waste of money. My insurance is $425. A year.
I am suffering severe recession guilt. Not only did I not lose my job, I found a better one that paid more and have had two raises in fifteen months. I put 20% down on my house and have no debt aside from the mortgage. I still have six months' living expenses in savings. I guess my guilt is more FEAR as in, when am I going to get mine? I still like my job. I am safely ensconced in 940 acres of park; that offers countless places to hide if necessary. The only better job I could have would involve fingerpaints and maybe a chemistry set and some Legos. I'm no longer suitable for private sector employment.
My sister tells stories about me to the people she works with, and I think they are all convinced I am ten years old and/or autistic and possibly in a group home. Not that there is anything wrong with that.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
I am full of low-level angst for the last couple of weeks. Not sure if it's the impending change of season or what. I downloaded $40 worth of Britney Spears and Lady Gaga dance remixes. SYMPTOMATIC. don't judge.
Also I got Follow That Bird on DVD at Kroger for $10. Of course I cried. Very calmly. I joke about the blunted affect thing, but sometimes it scares me a little. I still remember when anything mattered at all. I don't know if it's part of the normal aging process.
Boy took me to Ponyo this afternoon. I resent the ending. Girls should not have to give up their magic for boys, because the girls will regret it every moment of the rest of their mortal lives, and the boys won't love them as much when they are no longer magic anyway. I realized just now that this is why The Last Unicorn has always been my favorite - she stays a unicorn in the end.
I AM A UNICORN
Other than that...still employed and housed. Still driving Baby, after a recent infusion of $1000 worth of platinum parts and Hello Kitty floor mats. I intend to be buried in that car.
Talked to Mlle Bisquitte for 2.5 hours last Wednesday night. I guess all is forgiven. Bitch.
I'm going home again when the leaves start to turn so Dad can drive me slowly mad. JL had the Nebraska Wild Game Cookbook, circa 1980, on her desk today, so I scanned in and e-mailed him the page with recipes for fried muskrat and raccoon casserole as ideas for Thanksgiving. Recession cuisine?
I will never forget my first Thanksgiving at my old job, when Mark-Mark came into my office with this giant frozen turkey and a big old grin on his face and said, "I hope you're not vegetarian!" I almost wish I'd seen my face. Maybe I'll finally get a Tofurkey this year. Sandy would probably eat it. Those are expensive, though. Last year I ordered vegetarian dinner for four at Whole Foods and picked it up to take home. THAT was expensive, but it could have fed eight easily.
Eugenia takes naps that bend time-space. She yawns, and universes crumble. She is my true child. I have a lovely ladybug costume for her Halloween.
one two three
four five six
seven eight nine
ten eleven twelve
ladybugs came
to the ladybugs' picnic
Also I got Follow That Bird on DVD at Kroger for $10. Of course I cried. Very calmly. I joke about the blunted affect thing, but sometimes it scares me a little. I still remember when anything mattered at all. I don't know if it's part of the normal aging process.
Boy took me to Ponyo this afternoon. I resent the ending. Girls should not have to give up their magic for boys, because the girls will regret it every moment of the rest of their mortal lives, and the boys won't love them as much when they are no longer magic anyway. I realized just now that this is why The Last Unicorn has always been my favorite - she stays a unicorn in the end.
I AM A UNICORN
Other than that...still employed and housed. Still driving Baby, after a recent infusion of $1000 worth of platinum parts and Hello Kitty floor mats. I intend to be buried in that car.
Talked to Mlle Bisquitte for 2.5 hours last Wednesday night. I guess all is forgiven. Bitch.
I'm going home again when the leaves start to turn so Dad can drive me slowly mad. JL had the Nebraska Wild Game Cookbook, circa 1980, on her desk today, so I scanned in and e-mailed him the page with recipes for fried muskrat and raccoon casserole as ideas for Thanksgiving. Recession cuisine?
I will never forget my first Thanksgiving at my old job, when Mark-Mark came into my office with this giant frozen turkey and a big old grin on his face and said, "I hope you're not vegetarian!" I almost wish I'd seen my face. Maybe I'll finally get a Tofurkey this year. Sandy would probably eat it. Those are expensive, though. Last year I ordered vegetarian dinner for four at Whole Foods and picked it up to take home. THAT was expensive, but it could have fed eight easily.
Eugenia takes naps that bend time-space. She yawns, and universes crumble. She is my true child. I have a lovely ladybug costume for her Halloween.
one two three
four five six
seven eight nine
ten eleven twelve
ladybugs came
to the ladybugs' picnic
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Indeed.
(19:24:27) Cronrus: Ordinarily I would seethe and rage at women self-identifying themselves as the stereotypical "princess," but you I can make an exception.
(19:25:58) kitsplut: Now, see, Disney has screwed the whole thing up.
(19:26:35) kitsplut: Being the Princess means you have to be absolutely kind and polite to everyone and perky all of the time even when you want to bite heads off and you have to sacrifice yourself to save the world should the situation call for it.
(19:27:13) kitsplut: You have to let other people take the good parking spaces and hold doors for people with packages and in general live up to the supreme responsibility of your birth.
(19:27:41) kitsplut: In exchange, you get long shiny hair and nails and are able to explode things with your mind.
(19:27:57) Cronrus: Hah hah hah my how things have gone awry
(19:25:58) kitsplut: Now, see, Disney has screwed the whole thing up.
(19:26:35) kitsplut: Being the Princess means you have to be absolutely kind and polite to everyone and perky all of the time even when you want to bite heads off and you have to sacrifice yourself to save the world should the situation call for it.
(19:27:13) kitsplut: You have to let other people take the good parking spaces and hold doors for people with packages and in general live up to the supreme responsibility of your birth.
(19:27:41) kitsplut: In exchange, you get long shiny hair and nails and are able to explode things with your mind.
(19:27:57) Cronrus: Hah hah hah my how things have gone awry
Thursday, August 6, 2009
open into infinity
I always have a million things to say until I actually sit down to post, and then it all falls apart.
As those of you unfortunate enough to follow me on Twitter no doubt gathered, I went home for the weekend because it was Dad's birthday. I loooove that car and I loooove letting him drive me around on gravel roads with forty-five degree hills and grass growing down the middle, but there's always this little nagging voice in the back of my mind that tells me if he rolls it we're dead. I need to get that GPS service activated on my phone so at least Mom can tell them where to find the bodies.
Punkin: I keep thinking about the squid thing and all I come up with is tentacle rape. really?
If I were going to have children, I would name them Serenity Sapphire and Amethyst Aurora, because they would end up hating me anyway, so I should at least enjoy it. Mom wanted to name me Amethyst, but Dad wouldn't let her. Alarmingly, I had a whole slew of clients who kept calling me Amy. To the best of my knowledge, Bertha never had an accountant named Amy. Maybe that's the dead triplet's name, although I really think her name is a series of unpronounceable symbols.
I sing a lot when I'm feeling like someone forgot to connect the dots. Quite often in the car, and also at Luka if no one else is home. In particular this one. I suddenly found myself trying to explain Alexis to JL today without mentioning the Sailorkitty thing, because there just need to be boundaries. Even if she got to watch me blow steam out my nose and chant SHIT SHIT SHIT during the last two minutes of the grail auction. Even if she puts fake rats in my desk drawers and fake animal droppings under my chair. I do not want to be feared by my employees, but sometimes I wonder if it's fun.
The lower-level ladies' room at work has an automatic air freshener. I frequently go down there because no women work downstairs, and I am such a high-level lady that I can't stand people listening to me tinkle. Since it's basically my own personal bathroom, the door doesn't open that often, and the air freshener can get pretty strong. It is just PAINFULLY evocative of something, and I FINALLY TODAY identified it as Biskit's faux-Play-Doh Flower Makin' Basket. IT SMELLS EXACTLY LIKE THAT. EXACTLY.
I need to revive Lime Girls, or someone needs to do a tribute album, or something. Seriously.
As those of you unfortunate enough to follow me on Twitter no doubt gathered, I went home for the weekend because it was Dad's birthday. I loooove that car and I loooove letting him drive me around on gravel roads with forty-five degree hills and grass growing down the middle, but there's always this little nagging voice in the back of my mind that tells me if he rolls it we're dead. I need to get that GPS service activated on my phone so at least Mom can tell them where to find the bodies.
Punkin: I keep thinking about the squid thing and all I come up with is tentacle rape. really?
If I were going to have children, I would name them Serenity Sapphire and Amethyst Aurora, because they would end up hating me anyway, so I should at least enjoy it. Mom wanted to name me Amethyst, but Dad wouldn't let her. Alarmingly, I had a whole slew of clients who kept calling me Amy. To the best of my knowledge, Bertha never had an accountant named Amy. Maybe that's the dead triplet's name, although I really think her name is a series of unpronounceable symbols.
I sing a lot when I'm feeling like someone forgot to connect the dots. Quite often in the car, and also at Luka if no one else is home. In particular this one. I suddenly found myself trying to explain Alexis to JL today without mentioning the Sailorkitty thing, because there just need to be boundaries. Even if she got to watch me blow steam out my nose and chant SHIT SHIT SHIT during the last two minutes of the grail auction. Even if she puts fake rats in my desk drawers and fake animal droppings under my chair. I do not want to be feared by my employees, but sometimes I wonder if it's fun.
The lower-level ladies' room at work has an automatic air freshener. I frequently go down there because no women work downstairs, and I am such a high-level lady that I can't stand people listening to me tinkle. Since it's basically my own personal bathroom, the door doesn't open that often, and the air freshener can get pretty strong. It is just PAINFULLY evocative of something, and I FINALLY TODAY identified it as Biskit's faux-Play-Doh Flower Makin' Basket. IT SMELLS EXACTLY LIKE THAT. EXACTLY.
I need to revive Lime Girls, or someone needs to do a tribute album, or something. Seriously.
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