May 2005 Archives

Repeat Players - this song would be about #14.

Mortality has claimed another insect victim. Today I found Daren dead... at the bottom of the habitat. Gus and Tyree are still not getting along, and can stand for several seconds, just staring at each other, waiting for the other one to back down. I think the larger Tyree is very tolerant of the smaller, but pushier, Gus. He could probably eat his head for lunch. Bastian has shown talent as a contortionist and held a pose for over a minute that I was sure would damage his head. Except, it turned out that was his butt.

Rochelle just stands at the top of the gel mountain, waving her antennae at us, merrily. She's such a sweetheart.

Hey kids, I've been reading like mad. I have a bunch of books due back at the library, and I'm trying to keep my late fees under $10. seriously. I've had fines in the $100's of dollars, before I turned stuff back in they were charging as lost. Audio book cd's coast a fortune!

I still have one more day off. No, I'm not rubbing it in or anything. I'm just saying... I have one more day off. Earlier today I had a psychic premonition that I would want to make chocolate cookies with peanut butter chips and I was right! Good thing I bought that coco and those peanut butter chips. So I am going to go make those cookies now. Those of you who have to go back to work tomorrow, can go prepare yourself mentally. And I'll see you tomorrow when I pretend I am going to clean up my office!

You know, I'm probably going to tire of the roman numerals after we hit 10 or so.

Well, as my Moür Moür used to say, "It's cocktail hour somewhere in the world!" It's Friday somewhere in the world as well. And so I bring you this week's theme: addiction. I think I'm going to make it a bit personal this week. Oh yeah.. I'm going to share.

Intervention
They gathered together in loving concern. It was time she knew the truth, she needed to understand what her deleterious addiction was doing to them, what it was costing the family. They poured out their feeling, but she dug in her heels.

“Intervene this! I’m not giving up the Dr Pepper!”

Now it's your turn to share with me.

That doesn't mean we are doing 50 Word Fiction today. That will still happen on the official Friday. I took tomorrow and Tuesday off. No reason, I'm not going anywhere, just thought I'd have a LONG long weekend. What's more, Evildeb convinced me to call the doctor, yesterday, about the Consumption from which I am suffering and they want me to come in this afternoon. I'm usually not one for going to the doctor unless I absolutely have to go. So I'm leaving early. On a gorgeous 80 degree day, I am starting my five day weekend early. Can't get better than that, can it?

I want to tell you about Loud Happy Edgar #14. When I first moved into my apartment in Bellevue, I got my Dr Pepper from the mini mart on the corner. The morning guy's name was Edgar. After him came Edgar, and then after him came Edgar. Were all three named Edgar, was that a requirement to work at my mini mart? I doubt it. They probably shared the name tag. So from then on, I called all the new morning people Edgar, in my mind. Unless I knew their real name. Like Sam. He was not Edgar. When I moved into the house, I had two mini mart options. Both AM/PM's, Option A was closer and on the way to the freeway. Option B was a bit out of the way, and a tiny bit farther away. I tested them both and chose Option B. Because of Loud Happy Edgar #14.

Loud Happy Edgar #14 is Asian, I don't know of what descent. I think Japanese. And she has a voice that is hard to describe. It is loud, very very loud, it is also somewhat shrill. English is not her first language, so there are interesting inflections in the things she says. If you have a headache, her voice is like a knife in your skull, I kid you not. If I were to type out her speech, I would need to use all caps, ala A Prayer for Owen Meany. But she is so freaking happy! And so enthusiastic and friendly. Every morning she shouts "HELL-ROOOOO!" Occasionally, her part of the conversation is just a vocalization such as 'AAIIIYYY!" but I still know what she means. She just kills me. When Fee was in town, I took her to Option B AM/PM to see Loud Happy Edgar#14. It was mid-day and I think that her enthusiasm had waned. She was till super friendly. And super loud, she had just taken it down a notch.

Loud Happy Edgar #14 is sassy too. One day she asked me if I was a student, and I told her no, I worked for a software company. And she said, "AAIIYY! NO WONDER YOU ALWAYS DRESS LIKE THAT!"
"Like what?"
"LIKE COLLEGE STUDENT... WITH LITTLE MONEY, EH?" She said with a sassy grin.
I was wearing my Tiny's Rent-aTire tshirt, which is black, a grey henley under it, jeans and sneakers. A perfectly lovely ensemble! Cheeky Edgar!

Loud Happy Edgar is backed up by Quiet Mumbling Happy Edgar #15, who is only understandable about 27% of the time, and Sullen Depressed Nights/Weekend Edgar #16, who reminds me of Eeyore, but angrier.

Aren't I a cliche, blogging about my cat? Too bad! because... dude... SCATMAN CROTHERS.

You would think that I would be over the cough by now, wouldn't you? It's been 3 weeks since I first got sick. And I am still coughing. That seems wrong. Evildeb says I may have the beginning of a sinus infection. And the post nasal drip is what's making me cough. Lloyd and MoreThanSlightlyEvilJacob get them all the time, so she knows about these things. I'm not one for going to the doctor unless I have to, but it would explain why that cold kicked my ass. And stayed so long. But I feel fine... it's just the coughing. That's all there is. It's probably the Consumption. That's what I told my mini mart gal, Happy Loud Edgar #14. She said she doubted it and she'd see me tomorrow. I told her not if I die in my sleep. She said she had every faith she would see me tomorrow. Won't she be sorry she didn't say a proper goodbye to me, when I am dead.

Yesterday, Tessa and Louise were hanging out in my cubical area, Louise had a mug of tea and was sitting on the exercise ball. She was making fun of Tessa for some thing and so we were all laughing. Almost in slow motion she seemed to tip over, legs and one arm flailing. BAMF! she hit the floor and her head hit the rounded edge of a desk. The thing is, we were already laughing so hard, that that just made us laugh more. Which is mean. But it was so funny. And, she did not spill a single drop of tea! She did end up with a big old bump on her head, not that I've touched it, I'm taking her word on it. She's using that as an excuse for everything, and is pretty sure she's going to die by morning of massive head trauma. While she is not a hypochondriac, she is a bit of a drama queen. Surely I would die of the Consumption before she would die of her silly Massive Head Injury. Let's all wish her a speedy recovery from her massive head trauma. We'll be sad when she's dead and gone. She should at least hold out until after her birthday in August, because we have concert tickets.

And that means it is Pru's Birthday! Happy 3rd birthday, baby-kitty!

She looks squinty there because of the pre-flash. You can either have squinty "i'm so cool" cat eyes which are green. Or her normal big round eyes which are DEMONIC RED!!

For example... the day I brought her home. She's only 12 weeks old here. And she's not scared, she just has big round green eyes. [any excuse to post kitten pictures] Obviously didn't need any flash that day.

Older kitten, saving me from my shoes. I'm actually recovering from surgery here when I took these, so I didn't need shoes anyway.

I love her!

I finally broke down and went over to the monkee cube and told him to keep his voice down. He was on a call, at the time, but was getting all riled up. So I pantomimed "Can you please lower your voice?" No response. He looked at me, with a fairly impertinent look, I might add. Nada. Perhaps he didn't even know what it was I was trying to say. Maybe that look was confusion. But I think I shocked him enough to lower his voice. And now I am a hero. The high fives are coming fast and furious, kids.

It's only temporary. In fact, the shock has already worn off. But I can't hear him through my headphones right now, and that's an improvement. That's kind of my litmus test. Surely, if I can hear him with music playing in my ears, the person on the phone is suffering aural pain.

"You want to shoot yourself? Go look at our weather for the next five days... sunny and 80's!"

Amelia: unnecessary.
Me: yeah, I don't need to see a weather report..
Amelia: we already want to shoot ourselves!
Me: Amen, my brother!
Amelia and Jodi: *snicker*

Besides, it's not even true. Saturday and Sunday look like they are going to be in the upper 60's.

Mock-monkee-speak has become so common place in our vernacular, I don't even notice I am doing it sometimes.

Evildeb: Hey! What s'up, man?
Me: Hey! Not much,. S'up with you, my brother?

Then we ask other people "what s'up" and they wonder why we laugh when they answer.

Me: Hey! What s'up, Amelia?!
Amelia: Do not speak to me in that manner.
Me: Whoa... chill out, my brother.

Similar to yesterday morning, I decided to wake up at 5 am this morning and never go back to sleep. I tried, but gave up at 6:30, because that would have just made everything worse. Besides, my stepdad was home, and we decided to go have breakfast this morning. Despite the fact I swore I would never eat again, I had some fine, fluffy buttermilk pancakes this morning. Mmmmm....

Today, at work, we all took the Meyers-Briggs Personality Type Indicator thingy, which I adore. I love taking psych/personality tests, as you well know. I am an INFP. Introverted Intuitive Feeling Perceiver. Also, I'm a big freak, it would seem, because INFP's occur in 1% of the population... I'm a unique little butterfly. A lot of people were shocked to find that I was an introvert. Because I am very extroverted at work, in the traditional sense of the word. But that's not really what it's about. The first time I took the test, I was an ENFP, the 2nd I was an XNFP, but this is the first time I've taken the test with the entire 128 questions. My scores show that I have only a slight preference for I over E. Which is probably why I do extroverted so well. But when it comes right down to it, I need a certain amount of alone time to recharge. And being around too many people for too long a time drains me.

There were two sections in which I scored way to the right, meaning that it was a strong preference, extreme maybe. And that was the Sensing vs. Intuition, and Judging vs. Perceiving. I'm way way N and I'm way way P.

And then we had pizza.

the end.

for being such nice internet friends. I'm afraid I am going to have to say goodbye now, for I am dying of baked cheese ravioli overdose, due to my dinner at Buco di Beppo's. I had the Divine Lemon Chicken as well, but I think it was the ravioli, on top of the chicken and salad and cheesebread, that pushed me over the edge.

I love you all!

This morning I thought it would be cool to wake up about 4:30 am, lie there and try to get back to sleep, fail, and then eventually go to the grocery store. So I did. Six am is an excellent time to go to the grocery store. The donuts are fresh. Nonetheless, I did not partake in any, what I really wanted was Dr. Pepper but their soda pop fountain was broken. The 2nd place I went to was closed! Despite being a 24 hour mini mart type of establishment. Finally, after my third attempt, I headed home with my Dr. Pepper, started some laundry, answered some e-mails and only then could I go back to sleep.

This afternoon, I am going to meet up with Tessa, and go to the Seattle Film Festival to see An Animated Guide to Life, various animated short films. Sponsored, I just noticed, by Apple Computer. How sweet of them! In the past, I have volunteered at the Seattle Film Festival. One summer, shortly after I volunteered, I was laid off, so I had plenty of time. It's been a while since I've had anything to do with the SIFF, tho. Looking forward to getting some culture.

This is one of those blog entries that make me say... why do you write these things? Nobody cares to hear your plans for a Sunday afternoon, ya dope.

Feeling pretty geek right about now. I went out and spent some money on an ethernet router, so that I can fulfill my G4 tower's destiny as the mp3 server. BAMF! Now robin [that's the mini's name] is hooked up to the internet, and the tower is hooked up to her. Everyone has been hooked up. It's like a giant group hug. And when I bring squishy home, there's room for her too.

Now I am going to go watch a movie... whatever is in that mysterious red netflix envelope. Who knows!!

to clean my house.

Come on... you have no idea how much money I may have in my pocket!!

Jack and I were chatting about music earlier, I told him I would post this song.

Somewhere Down the Crazy River
Robbie Robertson

Hi! Welcome to Daisy Chain Round Robin Whooseywhat themed 50 word fiction Friday. This week, we'll each add on to the previous post of 50 words, stringing together one long story. Wheeee! Thomas generously provided me with a story, however, it was 53 words! So I had to edit it. Now I am torn between giving him smooches of gratitude, or a spanking. What's it going to be, Thomas?

Ok, let the story fun begin. I'll write some tomorrow, as, technically, it is Thursday evening for me, and Louise is chatting me up about something. Probably something to do with Satan.

Radishes. Every day, more stinking radishes. It didn't matter that she was the pixie protectorate of produce in Pricilla Pettigrew's prized patch, all she knew was that if she was forced to place dewdrops on any more radishes, she would magically string them together and shove them up Pricilla's ass.

Yesterday Tessa and M-roo went out to lunch, and invited me along. But they were going to have Thai food, and I wasn't feeling Thai. I was, again, feeling cheeseburger. Which they agreed, sounded like a good idea for a future lunch. So I scheduled a lunch club, the Girls Who Eat Meat Lunch Club, first meeting to be at Redmill Burgers. Louise is part of the club, as well. Unfortunately, Evildeb is a vegetarian, although I might tell her about it, it seems wrong for her to belong to the Girls Who Eat Meat Lunch Club.... if she's not going to do it. Eat meat, that is. Louise also pointed out a restaurant she's wanted to try called the Buenos Aires Grill, in Seattle. It would appear that this a restaurant that knows it's meat. You can get a platter of mixed meats, and they bring a grill to your table. Every review I've read keeps pointing out the menus are leather and their are cowhides draped on the walls. The Girls Who Eat Meat Lunch Club might have to go to dinner. They have tango dancing as well, but as Louise put it, "I don't care about that, I'm there for the meat."

Speaking of Evildeb, she is down in Oregon today and tomorrow, on a vendor visit. So I was very surprised to see her signed into her yahoo account this morning, when she should have been on the road. I asked her why she was online, she was supposed to be at the vendors, and she told me she was at BCC. [Bellevue Community College]. She's been taking some classes there lately. But that's not where she was supposed to be, so I continued to harass her. She seemed confused. Then The Man walked up and asked where Lloyd was, so we began to wonder if it was actually Lloyd at BCC, taking a class, with Evildeb's laptop. So we continued to pester her some more, sending line after line of nonsense chat, explaining how The Man had taken her chopsticks from her desk and was doing something with them that involved his nasal cavity, how even if geese could talk they could not say the word "esophagus"... stuff like that. . Nothing... she wasn't explaining herself and we had a meeting to go to, so we let it go.

When I got back from the meeting, I IM'd her again, and whomever answered admitted that they were not Deb, that they were at BCC and when they logged into the computer, messenger launched and logged in automatically, and they did not know how to log out. Which means that Evildeb installed Yahoo messenger on a computer in their lab and unknowingly set it up to log into her yahoo account automatically. That made me laugh. It made The Man laugh as well. Deb says she has a class on Sunday, and she will take care of it then, but I'm still thinking about how often FairlyEvilJacob IM's her from college, during the day. Oh that poor anonymous BCC computer student! How far-reaching is Deb's evil!!

Did I ever tell you guys about my sixth birthday? That was the year I wanted a pie thrown in my face. Because I had learned, by watching the television, that a pie in the face was the ultimate in funny. That was the upper echelon of humor. Odd how I wanted the pie in my face, instead of doing the throwing of the pie at someone else. Maybe I understood, even then, to get humor, you had to occasionally be the but of it. Of course, my mom did it. She smacked me, gently, in the face with a portion of a banana cream pie. Some of it was set aside for eating, of course. And you know what? FUNNY! Totally and completely funny! And delicious.

I wish I had pictures of it.

the monkee will be moving in July. I only have to make it half way through the summer and then everything will be fine. Sure, I have NIN blasting in my ears and I can still hear him, but only until July. So.... no worries everyone. It will be dealt with.

In other news, I know have a plug-in that allows me to control my iTunes from within Adobe InDesign. How cool is that? And it's free! I love it when people make stuff like that. It makes me all giddy. If I were a puppy my tail would be wagging.

And, if you are anything like me [and I hope for your sake you are not], you are going to want to go read this interview with Bruce Campbell right away. I hope he tours for his new book "Make Love the Bruce Campbell Way." I have such pleasant memories of his book reading/signing for "If Chins Could Kill." And, per the instructions he wrote in my copy of the book, I have been attempting to stay groovy ever since.

"It was so scary! It said the internet was down, that I didn't have access! And I couldn't email and I could browse the web, and yet I was still chatting! I was chatting with DrinkJack... or was I dreaming? Could I have been dreaming? A booze induced dream from the Brutal Fruit I just drank?"
"Well..."
"But then.... but then, I restarted, and it all came back. And then it went away...then I repaired permissions... and it's back"
"Only one bottle? God you suck when you are drinking."
"Hey... don't put limitations on my suckage like that... I suck ALL THE TIME. Perfectly sober!"
"'nuff said?"
"who's a baby kitty? you are! you're my fluffy baby kitty!!"
"shut up."
"come on... whooooo's your mommy? WHO. IS. YOUR. MOMMY?"

It's ok... everything is going to be fine, you guys... it was a rough morning... Deb was sobbing and I was punching myself in the head with my own fists... but everything is ok because I had a good cheeseburger for lunch, I'm listening to Venus* from Holst's The Planets, and our boss just gave us some really good tequila, from her trip to Mexico. You can't even taste it in my orange-cranberry juice concoction. I have invented a drink I intended to call the Hamilton. But instead, because of it's appearance, I have named it The Bomit.

I warned them... I said, you don't want me to have any tequila, seriously.... but would they listen?

*Venus is my planet. Because I'm a Libra. Do you know what that means? It means I was born between September. 23rdish and October 22ndish, that's what it means.

"Dude, I have been on the phone nonstop this morning... no kidding... it's NUTS!"

"I know I am dangerously close to nuts from listening to him make all those phone calls."
"It's true, you are. Who is that girl sobbing on the floor?"
"Well, Amelia, that's Evildeb, and she's already gone around the corner from nuts to looney. I'd better take her outside for a walk."
"I think so... I think she might bomit."

Hi, this week's theme is going to take some prep, because I am opening it up to you guys to start it off. This week I thought we could do a 50 word fiction daisy chain, each post adds on to the previous post, to make one überstory. In 50 word increments.

I could start this off myself, but I thought that maybe someone else would want to write the initial 50 words... anyone up for it? Email me if you want to be the instigator of this party, and I will post the first one late Thursday night, although I will change the post time to make it look like Friday because I cheat like that.

I got this link from bookslut... and you have to watch it, if only for the costuming. [if that's not enough... Sam Rockwell plays Batman.]

Robin's Big Date.

Bored now. I have been working on the most tedious of all tedious tasks that occasionally fall into my inbox. Little pieces of my soul are drifting up and away, as we speak, and I cannot spare any of MY SOUL, as we all know. And I've just about reach the capacity of tedium that a girl like me can take. But all is not lost! For today my Mac Mini has arrived!! Cuter than your average button, she is. But she has no name, a fact that Dr. Stevil finds astounding, since I name all my inanimate objects, especially my computers. And macs are almost always girls. Amelia suggested "Amelia" but that could get confusing.

The other night I had this dream. See if you can guess what I was dreaming about. I was living in a house with my parents [Mom and Stepdad] who were away for the weekend. I decided to take a shower, and when I got out, somebody had gone through the house sticky multi-colored pieces of paper on the walls and doors. These pieces of paper were as small as a mini post-it note and as large as 8.5x11, and they had words printed on them, but most of the words were gibberish. Or they were written like this "st0ck prices go thru the r00f!" I was running down the hallway, tearing these pieces of paper off the walls and doors, when I saw someone dash down the stairs. I looked over the balcony, and there was the culprit! Along with my parents.

Now, for some reason, at this point, everyone became lego people. I yelled "stop him! he's a note leaver! he's leaving notes everywhere!"

So my stepdad shot and killed him, and started to drag his lego man body out the door. This seemed like a perfectly reasonable thing to do. When I got downstairs, we'd all turned back into humans. I told my mother I did not understand how he got in, to leave the notes. How they ever get it, because this had happened before. She explained to me that they were very very patient. That they hid out in the storm drain, but the street, waiting for an opportunity to sneak in. In fact, there was one there right now. We went out to look at him. He didn't look very healthy.
"sometimes, they have viruses." My mom said.

After that dream, I woke up and went to get a glass of water, while standing in the kitchen, it struck me... what I had just dreamed about. And it made me laugh.

Evideb says that Mimi, the evildog, was as sick as a dog could be, on Saturday night. The evil inside her was coming out both ends, and she was throwing up every five minutes. The next day, when Mimi began to cough, AlmostCertainlyGoingToEndUpEvilMaggie asked her mom if the dog was about to "bomit."
"Bomit? Don't you mean "vomit?"
"Bomit is PRETEND vomit."

When Evideb told me the story today, I had to admit that there was a need in my life for a word that means pretend, or virtual, vomit. In fact, just five minutes ago:

Spoken:
Me: Uh-oh... Deb... I think I am going to bomit.
Evideb: Oh no... why?
Via Chat:
Me: Because overheard: "am I going to make ANY commission on this? oh my god... that is so much money!"
Me: therefore; jodi: bomit.
Evildeb: I have a question. Am I going to make ANY commission on this painful review of these GENERIC WORK TASK AT P.O.E. that I'm working on?
Me: no. no you are not. in fact, all you are going to make is bomit.
Evildeb: yes, I think I shall make some bomit. Hey, that's what you can do when he gets loud, you can bomit over the wall of his cubicle.
Me: I need some golf balls, and a sharpie pen, STAT!

DrinkJack was out and about this weekend, and happened to see the following tribute to Amelia, so he sent me a picture.

"It's very pretty, Amelia."
"Yes, it is nice... I like the trees."
"Where do you think it leads?"
"Duh... the airport!"

Sung to the tune of "Nature Boy"

There was a boy
A strange and tragic boy
And in his hand, he held his pain
For all the world to see
How he'd been hurt, by those he loved
Above reproach was he

And then one day
A stormy day he passed my way
And while he spoke of all his pain
Tried to explain
This is what he heard from me
"The greatest gift you need to learn"
"Is to forgive, and be forgiven in return."

I suppose it's nicer than yelling "Get the fuck over it!!" in his face.

Hello and welcome to VI. This week, I spent some time in class, learning more about color science and technology. And so this week's theme is color. Pretty broad, you can use it anyway you like, just name a color somewhere, and you've met the challenge. Of course, you are welcome to get more creative.

Always a bridesmaid.

"Let me explain this to you one more time," she said, clutching the bridesmaid dress in her fist, "Color harmony provides visual interest with a sense of complimentary chromatic balance. Overlooking these principles will result in unattractive, unpleasant emotional experiences. Cut to the chase? This dress will make me vomit."

I've been using a demo of a stats service, that gives me a bit more information than what comes on my server. You know how addicted I am to webstats. In addition to providing valuable information for those looking for things in Nova Scotia [lottery numbers, sluts, food of various kinds, surgerical procedures] I get a lot of searches for people wanting to do things faster - for example - type. That's how I found out there is a porno called "Faster Pussycat F*ck F*ck!" Of course there is... and the asterisks are to keep people looking for this fine film from being sidetracked by me. But my favorite two search referrals this week are:

how to write wedding vowels
how often should i feed my koi?

Normally, I would say I am the last person you want helping you write anything for a wedding, but when it comes to the vowels, I think I can help you out, just send me an email. But just the vowels! You are going to have to get the consonants from someone else. The number one search referral for jodiferous.com this week, and I am SUPER excited about this:

Hot Dog on a Stick!!!

I love hot dog on a stick! Mmmmmm.... meat on a stick.

Heads up: advance notification on tomorrow's 50 fiction theme. The theme is: color.

Something fun I got from Drink at Work.

You scored as Cultural Creative. Cultural Creatives are probably the newest group to enter this realm. You are a modern thinker who tends to shy away from organized religion but still feels as if there is something greater than ourselves. You are very spiritual, even if you are not religious. Life has a meaning outside of the rational.

What is Your World View?
created with QuizFarm.com

I'm in color class all day, again. And I've got this annoying Disney song stuck in my head. The Spectrum Song. I know I have an mp3 of it somewhere... I'm not sure I should do that to you, tho. Y'all have been so good, you don't deserve to be punished in that way... or do you?

Oh, you are safe. Wherever that mp3 may be, it's not here on squishy. But next time you may not be so lucky. In case you want the lyrics...

I've been meaning to tell you guys about the mayor of Spokane Washington for a couple of days now, since it's been all over the news here. But last night I came home from work and went straight to sleep for the rest of the night. And today I was in another class all day. [More color science... let me know if you need calibrating.] And then I came home to find out my new boyfriend did a bang up job of writing about it, understandable as that is what he does for a living, and why not just point you over there.

The whole thing reminds me of a Great Debate I had with my stepmother 11 months after my father died. It was a very surreal Christmas for all of us, everything was cold and deciduous (as they were living in Pennsylvania). Just like earlier that year, when I was out for my father's funeral. I was from somewhere a bit more evergreen, and I remember how very depressing I found it, everything being dead, no signs of life. [symbolism lacking in subtlety, I know. ] But I digress. This was 11+ years ago, Josh was 12 and a boy scout. My stepmother was a very active scout leader. I don't know when scouting became something he did for her, instead of himself, but I imagine it was after my father died. Anyhoo, my brothers [older and younger], stepmother and I were sitting around the dining room table after Christmas dinner, talking, and the subject of the Boy Scout leader who was asked to leave the scouts came up. There had recently been an eagle scout kicked out B.S.'s because he admitted to being gay. And when a scout leader came out in support, he was kicked out as well. We were having a knock down drag out debate. In this corner, my staunch conservative Republican stepmother, with her "Impeach Clinton" bumperstickers on the refrigerator. (Probably put there by my father.) In the other corner, me. At the beginning of the debate, I stated that I understood the scouts were a private club, and could set any standard of membership rules they wanted, however, my point was not whether this was legal, but whether this was right, whether this was an appropriate lesson of tolerance to teach to other boys. I'll spare you my finer points of debate brilliance get to the point of the story... my older brother jumped in somewhere around the middle and pointed out to me that the scouts were a private organization and could set any standard of membership they wanted to, it was not illegal. The debate had grown quite heated, because, well, the other point of view was moronic. So I turned to my brother and reminded him that I conceded that point earlier in the argument and if he was going to participate, he was going to have to do better than that. I guess I was somewhat snappish when I said it, I know I was ready to rip some heads off some necks at that point. Because when we came home [me to Seattle, him to San Francisco] he told my mom about the debate, and my reaction, admitting that he was a little scared of me.

The sweetest news I have ever received in my life, a life half lived on egg shells whenever walking around my temperamental brother, was that he was a little scared of me. So much of my childhood was spent worrying about getting beat up [more time, by far, than actually getting beat up.] that it seems only fair that he be a bit scared of me now. Fair, and more than a little appropriate.

Scientology is losing members to a newer religion - Fictionology. So sayth The Onion. And I believe every word they say because they are genius. Also, I believe because I want to live in a world of pretend, 24/7.

So who would be your patron saint?

Amelia says:
Don't use a noun as the predicate, when a perfectly good verb already exists. Verbs describe action. People want to know what's happening. When you use words like "matrix" as a verb, it makes Jodi bang her head against the wall.

"People do not matrix to other organizations! I can only assume that you mean move or transition, but perhaps you mean skip or dance. Or perhaps he will kung-fu over to another organization... I don't know!!"

Have we learned nothing from Schoolhouse Rock?
"When I use my imagination (Verb!)
I think, I plot, I plan, I dream...
Turning in towards creation (Verb!)
I make, I write, I dance, I sing..."

*and other countries as well.

MP3 File

Happy birthday, Smellie! I was going to try to say "Happy Birthday" in Inuktitut, but I was unable to find it online. And I kept looking and looking, and then decided, what the hell... I mean, despite your current location, I should just stick with our common heritage. Therefore...

Grattis på födelsedagen!!!

It's raining cats, dogs, monkeys, turtles, bunnies and squirrels here. The sky is dark and closer to the ground. Don't ask me how that works, because I don't know. I went out to get some tea, with Tessa. We both used "courtesy" umbrellas and yet somehow I came back damp, and she looks like she never left the building. Pfft....

Did you know that there is a trailer up, on apple.com, for "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire?" Well there is, and you should check it out. Unless one of your favorite nearby coworkers is telling stories of his recent head injury. Again. Because lord knows, you are going to want to hear it again.

- It's Loon's birthday! Happy birthday Loon,
- Saturday was Evildeb's Evil Birthday! Happy Evilday, Deb! She was in Victoria BC, and I was under quarantine, so I have not celebrated an evil birth ritual with her yet. Any ideas?
- I just ordered my Mac Mini, using the discount given unto my P.O.E. by Apple. Hooray! My home system needed an upgrade. My G4 will become the delegated MP3 server.
- Due to a physical injury, the monkee is rumored to be a bit more subdued and "quiet," currently. But I don't notice a difference.
- Also, I just pre-ordered the Sims2 for the Mac. It comes out on June 13th. [birthday of Liloo and my uncle Jim.] So the blog may go, as they say in the theatre world, dark for a bit. Dark, with strong possibilities for sim stories.
- I got a Mother's Day card in the mail from my cat.

I said three things and that is six... sorry. I'm still not quite myself, truthfully.

Amelia says "hi!"

Hey kids, my advice to you is, don't get sick. I am having the worst time shaking this. I start feeling better, and then I get all sick again. I either get a fever again, or I add some new symptom. Like last night and the throwing up. Hello? I don't throw up! Especially not when I just have a cold. Today I just feel really ... weak; very lightheaded and dizzy. I went out in the car to get something to eat, it took me until 2pm to work up to it, and that turned out to be a bad idea. Not the eating part, the operating heavy machinery part. So I came home. Even when typing my fingers are tripping over each other.

Enough already! Bored now. Time for health. Chop chop! You have until tomorrow to show up.

Nap time.

Hello and welcome to Volume Cinco. Because it's Friday in some parts of the world, if not mine, I present you with my phlegm inspried 50 word fiction based on this weeks theme... hollow head. Or was it hallow? Or haunted, if you want to go that way with it. Six of one, half dozen of another... I went with what felt true to me.

The Last 48 hours
Sludgey cement, slime and sticky ooze... muck, mire, and mucilage... green gunk, grime, glop and pellucid crud... with great effort she raised another sand paper rough tissue to her nose and wished for a hollow head. Whump.. her wish granted, the viral effluvium dropped into her lungs. Oh, *cough* perfect.

I'm playing a Five Questions Blog-a-thon with Thomas. Which means, he gets to asks me five questions, and I post my answers here, after agreeing to ask five questions of anyone who reads my blog. The rules are, you have to have a blog upon which to post your answers and you have to agree to ask questions of your readers who want to play. Okey-dokey? Here are my questions and answers.

1)Your favorite day of the week when you were 5? 15? 25?

That would be Friday, Friday and Friday. And my favorite day now? Ummm... Friday!

2) You're driving to work where you're going to be there in just enough time for an important meeting on a project you're in charge of when you see a huge accident in your rear view mirror. It looks like a 20 car pile-up. Do you stop to offer assistance and make yourself late for your meeting?

If I could be of any type of assistance, I would stop without question. Meetings matter not when there are lives to be saved!

3) If you could pick and talk to the spirit of someone who died, who would it be and why?

My father. This is tough because I'd also like to talk to Moür Moür and see what's up, if they have craft stores in the afterlife and such. And I admit, it would be kinda cool to speak to the victims of unsolved crimes. Especially a child, if it meant capturing some sicko and putting them behind bars before they could do more harm. And I wonder what Jung thinks of the collective unconscious now, that he may be part of it. But it would be my dad. I miss him. Plus, he has some 'splaining to do

4) What song of Neil Diamond do you feel is his weakest? (You know, just outright sucks donkey balls.)

Does Neil have a weak song? I'm not sure that's possible. I guess it would have to be "You don't bring me flowers" because it's a duet with Barbara Streisand, damn her black heart.

5) What was your favorite breakfast cereal when you were younger, and do you still eat it today?

Whatever it was, it had sugar in it, and I guarantee you I still eat it. I wasn't allowed sugar cereal as a kid. So when cereal purchasing was in my control... every cereal was a sugar cereal!! it's tapered down a lot, but I still buy a box every new box of cereal. I looooove cereal.

Ok, the spanish stuff stops at the end of cinco di mayo, don't worry. It's that Tiger [OS X 10.4] has this cute little translation widget....

hi!

i'm not dead. fever's gone. things are looking up. thinking of introducing some vertical into my day.

happy cinco de mayo.

Like that. BAMF! I came home from work last night, and went into my room to kick my shoes off, I got a little too close to my bed and it sucked me in and under the covers. It has a tendency to do that. Pru was happy because she was looking for something warm and squishy to lie down upon, something into which she could hook her claws. All of the sudden I wake up, it's 30 minutes later, and I am sick. Just like that. Sore throat, congestion, achey head... some stupid cold just came in and bit me.

I came into work today, but most people have requested I go home. Everyone stands well away from me. Except Amelia. Speaking of her... many people tell me that what the world needs now are bracelets that say W.W.A.D. That would be cool. I asked her what she would do in my situation, if she were sick:
"I think you should go over and lick the monkee's phone receiver, when he's away from his desk."
"BRILLIANT!!"

Basically, I'm pretty comfortable living alone. I've done it for a long time now. I'm good at it. A little spoiled with it, in fact. But there are times when it would be nice to have another human being in the house. That's usually when you wake up from a nightmare. And your house, which is normally a comforting quiet and dark at night, all the sudden has strange noises that concern you. Noises that sound vaguely boogiemanish. Noises a serial rapist clown would make, if he were breaking into your home with his giant clown shoes and red rubber nose. At times like these, you do the best you can. If the cat is sleeping on the bed with you, you pat her and let her know it's ok, clowns aren't really that scary. If the cat is not sleeping with you, you call out to her repeatedly until she hops up on the bed and lies down on you. And purrs. And then, of course, you pull the comforters over your head and repeat the protective mantra "go back to sleep go back to sleep go back to sleep!"

But last night was a doozie... I woke up screaming. I can't remember ever doing that. Waking up with a yell or a shout, yes. But waking up screaming? No. And I can't even remember what happened in the dream, because so many weird dreams came after that one. Including the one where I come to work in my white, terry cloth spa robe. The one I like to wear after taking a shower. Not as bad as coming to work naked, of course, but people do still look at you oddly. Anyway, in case you've never woken up screaming before, let me clue you in, it's very unsettling. And the cat has no interesting in comforting you because you've scared the crap out of her. Pulling your covers over your head is not enough. Your normal mantra won't work. Instead you have to sing "This Little Light of Mine... I'm Going to Let it Shine," over and over. And you hear yourself ask the question you've never dared ask yourself before, "why didn't I marry a NRA card carrying professional wrestler when my momma told me to?"

Speaking of scary, you should go see what happens at Marie's house when she shoves a can of beer up a chicken's butt and serves it for dinner. Tasty! No, seriously. It looks yummy.

"This is the single least expensive way to do it, bar none, no exceptions, the least expensive. *pause* There is one exception...."
"Wha.. wha.. what? Hang on... you can't say bar none and then say there is another way!!"
"Shhhhh, Amelia, look - I turned the page on the kitten calendar! Aren't May's kittens cute? Widdle kitties..."

I finally finished my first book review over at Satan's Bookclub. You wouldn't think it would be so hard. I learned some lessons. Some hard, painful, life changing lessons.

1. There is no shame in reviewing a book while intoxicated, as long as you spell check when you are done.
2. Finish the book.... that's right, the entire thing.
3. If you are stuck, eat some deep friend potato foodstuffs. It helps.
4. Trying to talk smack is not as easy as just talking smack.
5. Take notes as you read the next book to review.
6. Don't read any books, articles or webpages about how to write a good book review, because they are crap.

If you'd like to be alerted when the next brilliant book review comes out, or the fabulous goings on in the bookclub itself, mosey on over to Satan's Bookclub and sign up for the mail lists. What Jesus doesn't know, won't hurt him.

and I have proof! This is Lake Sammamish. See all the pretty little daisy type flowers?

Well, here is my shoe, next to some of those daisy type flowers. Photographic evidence.

And, just for fun, here is a picture of the lake if I turned to my left.

Gorgeous! It was too much beauty! So overwhelming I had to go to Target and look at things under fluorescent lighting.