Category: Uncategorized (Page 16 of 114)

My knitting crew jokes about us all growing old together, and getting rooms next to each other when our time comes to be ….. moved there. Of course, I hope the Wo will be moving there with me, though they will probably take his shotgun from him, because I don’t expect him to ever want to stop shooting ducks, or for that matter, evil squirrels. And as long as he has access to a window, a sniper shack can be established.

I think it would be nice if my friend Kyra gets an adjoining room to me, maybe we could have a little sitting room between us, where we both wander in and start to talk about our knitting, and our yarn collections (which are conveniently housed in an on-site POD the size of a barn.) I’m thinking about her right now because I just had a little take-out, on which I put a wee bit too much of the Sriracha hot chili sauce, and my tongue is SPEAKING FLAMENCO. Holy crap. She did this on Tuesday, and I laughed at/with her. Man. Karma, such a bitch.

We had some good laughs last night, at knit night, and most of them I don’t remember, because my head is a sieve. OH, yes, Miss Kyra has a cell phone that’s so old it’s got the TMJ or something similar, essentially, it’s a rotary phone meets a bag phone and they got shrunken. So her phone company is making her get a new one, and we had some good times imagining if she’d wanted to make her current phone more bluetooth, perhaps involving a colander and some wire antennae. (Speaking of blueteeth, let’s just all pinky swear we’re not going to get those little headsets, and if we do? Let’s not wear them unless you’re actually ON A CALL. It’s just too Star-Trekky for me.)

I’m as fallible as my pal, having had an entire conversation before lunch with Kristin about how I was SO HAPPY Leslie made me her friend on Ravelry, because I’ve been trying to make friends all over that damn thing, and when people don’t friend me back, I am – how do you say? – crestfallen. Which I intellectually comprehend is absolutely stupid. BUT! Crestfallen! You are so familiar! You were with me during all my formative years! And so, ok, back to the conversation, I said it would really stink if people I actually KNEW and counted as knitty friends rejected me. And then? Three hours later? I chirped at Kristin, “Leslie’s on Ravelry! She made me her friend!” And didn’t believe her when she said I’d already told her this.

YAY! Dementia, glad to meetcha! How about staying in the basement. Downstairs.

But you know what I haven’t forgotten? Everything James has ever done. (Just ask him. He’ll say it’s true.) OR the plumber. That fucker better have my shower fixed by my birthday or there will be a cognitive holy jihad unleashed on him (once I get the broken part back, because if he isn’t going to fix it, I’m not going to get medieval on his ass until I have the bad part, I may be irritated, and I may be forgetful, but I’m not stupid.) I am enjoying James’ shower, he has the kick ass shower head, and he also has Dr. Bronner’s Peppermint Soap, but really, if you had two forms and I had to sign one? My name would be written, in Sharpie, on the one labeled, “I DON’T LIKE TO SHARE.” I am an only child. And I want my assortments of choices back. And my shower radio, even if it’s still tuned to the horrid morning show I can barely stand. (I keep forgetting to change it. And am ambivalent about the music offerings on other stations. The music is the big piece. So stasis, it wins again.) Oh, did you know Dr. Bronner’s soaps are magic? James really likes the soap & it’s helped his skin. When he was singing its praises (right before our forced ShowerShare2007) I accused James of talking to the bottle in the shower, and that the soap is his friend, not mine. (See, this friend thing? It runs through EVERYthing…>)

Seriously, I just scrolled up to try to remember what in hell this post was about. (My plumber-anger distracted me. And the soothing sounds of Tracy Chapman are barely a poultice because he said he would call me back THIRTY-FIVE minutes ago. ARGH! He is totally doing this so he doesn’t have to drive out today to fix it. Unhinged! I am becoming! I CAN NOT HAS SHOWER!) I better just end for the day. I’m really glad it’s Friday.

OMG, our intern just brought her Corgi puppy in. Puppies (and peppermint soap) are pretty magical.

So I got to the dentist, and they instantly sensed my anxiety. I thought I was masking it quite well, but those people? They are TRAINED. Everyone was reassuring.

Then we went back & I discovered I was only getting a temporary crown. Not the permanent crown. But I had waited for this appointment because we had to wait for the lab to MAKE my crown, and it turns out that was a miscommunication between the back (where the facts are, ma’am) and the front (where the calendar is kept). What was probably (in retrospect) the funniest part of all was my insistence and carefully worded questions all in an attempt to steer today’s procedure to the permanent crown and why I believed I was getting it even though no permanent crown exists (yet) and this was why I was here, and I KNEW this was correct, and I realized that I was starting to sound like I was headed down the path of telling them what the dentistry procedures would be and then I shut up, because I have a degree in Studio Art. And in the end, they have the big metal needle.

Now, I will say that my dentist is the master of administering Novocaine. It was a rapid progression from “normal” to “can’t feel anything”. But later, when the tooth grinding & shaping was taking place, I became acutely aware that one shot of Novocaine is technically not enough for this procedure, but in addition to getting a degree in Studio Art, I also attended my father’s School Of Being A Dentistry Patient, in that he had a great tolerance for pain and it was a celebrated area of study. I once got a cavity filled with no Novocaine. So as my dentist ground chunks of tooth, spraying enamel and bone and a lovely burning smell in my mouth, I toughed it the hell out. It’s difficult to yell “Mother Fucker!!!!” with three gloved hands in your mouth, anyway. We had a small review of the procedure and my pain level, and I could tell he desperately wanted to administer an additional shot, because hey, dentistry has a bad rap as it is, and what good doctor wants to inflict pain? It’s not like we were doing a sequel to the Marathon Man or anything. But I was raised to tolerate pain to a point if it means getting something over with faster. So I communicated that and went into stoic mode. Apparently that also includes extraordinary muscle tensing in my arms because I am as sore as if I’d lifted weights for two hours, instead of lying in a chair for about the same amount of time.

So. The numbness is wearing off, which is good, and the temporary crown feels weird, the texture of it doesn’t match my other teeth. And I go back in 2 & a half weeks. There’s a chance I won’t need another numbing shot & you can bet I’ll be striving to avoid one! (Within reason, of course.) Let the weekend begin! I’m thinking a shot of something ELSE might be in order soon…. :)

I had a mini-revelation in the Sun Fresh parking lot: Today? Today, I am letting EVERYTHING GET TO ME!

Bad drivers on the commute in – I yelled at several.
More bad drivers at lunch – scary!
One delivery vehicle in our parking garage – ON CRACK! Or Meth or something equally damaging. Bad news!

Mean bitchy lady at the Sun Fresh who looked me up & down like who was I to put my cart in her same stratosphere: Go directly to hell. Do not pass go. Do not collect Free Parking money. As I got around you, I actually said out loud, “Because you ARE the only one in the store.” Not loud enough for her to hear, because frankly, she looked like a person who would run up at you from behind and pull your hair, and honestly, I’ve had enough hair loss from all the stress & just. don’t. need that.

However, I’m also having a good day! I went to Indigo Wild before the Sun Fresh adventure, and had a lovely time. The staff there brings their dogs in to work, and as I was leaving, it was Dogs Outside! Time, and there was a cavalcade of four-legged furballs running around the parking lot. I picked up a couple of gifty-things & then something that’s new called “Magic Stick”. Of course, now all I hear in the soundtrack of my mind is Fiddy-Cent …. I got the magic stick….(I don’t think that song is about a stick, per se, cough, cough.)

OK, that was my quick update. I’m embracing my sensitivity to EVERYTHING (Wo, you’ve been warned) and I will just put a li’l Magic Stick on anything that bothers me!

I saw this over on the Knitting Cybrarian…. took it & got mixed results!

Your Personality Profile

You are dreamy, peaceful, and young at heart. Optimistic and caring, you tend to see the best in people. You tend to be always smiling – and making others smile. You are shy and intelligent… and a very hard worker. You’re also funny, but many people don’t see your funny side. Your subtle dry humor leaves your close friends in stitches.

More later…. gotta find some outdoor boards for a client pronto!

I have my set of comic strips that I read religiously. Get Fuzzy, & Pearls Before Swine are my top two, and then I pretty much hit the rest of them, reading the ones I like, scanning quickly to avoid even making eye contact with the one strip that will certainly follow me straight to hell where I’ll be forced to proofread and catalog the entire collection: Family Circus. Less dangerous, but still quite uninteresting, I don’t read the soapy strips – Brenda Starr, Mark Trail, and I’m not much for the same joke over and over, which I deem to be Beetle Bailey or Wizard of Id. I read Dilbert, and it doesn’t usually make me laugh, laugh genuinely, not in that wincing OMG my LIFE! sorta way – or at least not the way Bucky or Satchel or Pig & Rat do – except then you get one that reminds you of universal truths in the working world, and I give you today’s as proof:

Welcome to Tuesday!

I have got to change my ringtone, because last night was the finale of “24”, and for the past however many weeks, my cell phone ring has been the phone ring for the lines at CTU. I love saying, “Oh hang on, Jack Bauer’s calling.” Of course, I only say that to the Wo, and he tolerates it, albeit with an eye roll.

I came :this: close to downloading Chewbacca last night, and had it been louder, I would have. Chewy cracks me up, probably because on the rare occasions Suzy talks to us? She sounds exactly like a Wookiee. I think I get more entertainment just listening to the 800 different ringtones – and the drawback of listening to so many is that I’m so distracted & torn I can’t actually decide on one.

Meanwhile, work has turned into a cornpopper overnight. Industrial movie-theater sized popper. I have a rep who is twenty minutes late for our scheduled meeting, and I’m about ready to tell her (and her boss) to just pack it in and leave if/when they ever freakin’ show up. I can be late, but you can’t. It’s an EXCELLENT rule in my kingdom. I won’t do it, because there’s also always the chance I have the time wrong!

So, I realize with my Chewbacca discussion, and the Warp Speed subject line, I’m mixing sci-fi metaphors like a cocktail, and probably violating 14 different codes of the genre. But I feel like I’m traveling at Warp Speed, and yammering about everything I have to do in the language of the Wookiees. RRRRRNNNNHHHHHHH.

Tell me what your ring tone is, too! I could use suggestions.

…found in Furniture:

ATTN: BUYERS
Reply to: sale-xxxx@craigslist.org
Date: 2007-05-17, 1:00AM CDT

I am trying to sell my kitchen table. I got a buyer BUT BE WARE….. DO NOT SELL TO BARRY WHITE!!!! iT IS A SCAM. iF YOU WANT MORE INFORMATION CONTACT ME.

Dude, if Barry White emailed me, I’d be a little suspicious. Same goes for Luther Vandross. Little Luther OR Big.

If you don’t regularly read Post Secret, read it this week.

If I had a child, the first postcard could’ve been mine. It is one of the reasons I never felt a strong desire to have children, that the cycle would simply continue.

Three other postcards on the page could have been mine, some even word-for-word. They made me cry. And in a twisted way I’m thankful (but sad), grateful for the reminder that we’re just not all that different from each other and our problems and relationships certainly aren’t unique. Gotta love the internet. We create our own families here, don’t we?

Nobody needs a Hallmark Holiday to remind us of what we don’t have – and if you do have it? Don’t wait for the second Sunday in May each year to demonstrate how you feel.

I told ya this week was crazy!
I’ve been up since 4:40 a.m., and if you know anything about me, you know just how wrong that is. W.R.O.N.G.!
Kristin & I went to the baseball game last night, and I got some cool photos of the game, mostly because we were in the dugout suite – courtesy of my reps at the Kansas City Star. You can see them all over at Flickr, but if you know me, and my fear of going crazy around police officers, then you’ll enjoy just how close I was to the security detail:

Notice that my choice of hot dog is not winning the race in the background. Damn you, ketchup! (Mustard won in case you had a bet out….)

Kauffman Stadium truly is gorgeous…..

Now we just need our team to start winning!

More tomorrow on today’s adventures….. hopefully I don’t forget it all with Owen Wilson Drag Queen Dreams…..

yes, when you have an insane day, and eat triscuits and potato salad for dinner, it is only inevitable that your nighttime of dreams are filled with the most random frothing of a storyline.

Owen Wilson was on trial, Law & Order style. So much so, it was confusing everyone in America, because was it Real? Or Reality TV? Even my subconscious makes a statement. Anyway, he was found guilty (of what I do not know), and he retreated between the verdict & sentencing to his favorite drag queen club, a four-story walkup in NYC, which happened to be right next door to where I lived. We became the BEST of friends, and I brought him drinks during a show (we were sitting together), and he had the biggest Shirley-Temple curls (because he stayed in drag to remain incognito!) And he was quite beautiful as a woman, and he was also gay. Given the gossip about Owen Wilson & his self-proclaimed Butterscotch Stallion status, and then his general physical appearance, I’d say the whole gay-thing and gorgeous-as-a-woman-thing are going to remain only in my dreams.

He did such a good job with his makeup! And we knew he couldn’t go to prison, so I had to help him escape and just before that happened, I threw a police officer through a window & we found all kinds of money in the walls of the club. It was quite a movie-in-the-making, that dream.