How High?

I've spent the day pretty well drugged up, hoping I'd be able to breathe, and for brief moments have managed just that. Mostly I'm dizzy, passed out on the couch, mouth open. I'm sure I looked lovely. At least there was no drool. Well, this time there was no drool. You know I'm sick when I go to bed at 10 PM. I took my shot of Nyquil and headed off to bed, shocking the hell out of everyone. I woke up a little after 5 this morning, once again unable to breathe. Popped some Advil Cold & Sinus and plopped back in bed. Except for a minor outing this morning, I've stayed mostly in a semi-vegetative state on the couch.

I look like hell. I look so bad that my father came up to me-- after I put on makeup, mind you-- and said "You look bad. No, really bad. You look like shit." Yes, my own father. Can't you feel the love?

***

Damn:
It makes me really feel like shit when I hear about a 4 year-old selling paintings for thousands of dollars. Then I saw the paintings (lost the link, sorry) and I felt even worse. They're damn good.

Whoops:
School caf gives margaritas to the kiddies.

Hee!:
Kerry Haters for Kerry. I don't quite hate the guy, but I'm not all that fond of him either. But I'm voting for him anyway.

***

Added a Random Surrealism Generator at the bottom. Hope y'all (all three of you) enjoy!

How Soon is Now?

You know that feeling you get just before you sneeze? Or, better yet, that feeling you get when you can't sneeze. You just stand there with your eyes all squinty and a bit teary, hand half-way to your mouth to cover, mouth open and making weird "Ah.. Ahh.. Ah.." sounds. That's how I feel lately. Both in the physical sense and emotional sense. Some call it "Waiting for the shoe to drop" but that's not really accurate here. I'm not waiting for something bad to happen, I'm just waiting for something to happen.

I'm not a patient girl. I don't do the waiting thing very gracefully. I'm the take-charge, shove away the obstacles and get things done kind of girl. I want it over with quickly. Rip that bandaid off. That way, if it's bad, I can start my recovery more quickly. If it's good, I can celebrate more quickly. But, more and more often, I find that rushing things along works against me. All would've been good if I'd left things well enough alone. It's a bitch of a lesson to learn. It's also a slow form of torture for me. I'm too fidgety.

And that's what I've been doing lately and how I've felt. I'm trying to keep busy to whittle away at the time. I hate waiting. I hope it's over soon.

***

Hee!:
The Rumsfeld Fighting Technique reminded me very much of Rock, Paper, Sadam.

It's sad when your little boy narcs on you.

Ew:
Super rats that thrive on poison.

Rrrowr!

Seductive Flirt

What Kind of FLIRT are you?

brought to you by Quizilla

You can go back...

You ever pick up an album that you haven't listened to in years, pop it in, turn it up and wonder why the hell you haven't listened to it in so long? I'm sitting here, listening to Tori Amos. Little Earthquakes, to be specific. God, how I love this cd. I spent many an hour listening to this during my angsty teen years. Makes me all goosebumpy and soothes me at the same time. I'm learning to enjoy and appreciate these little periods of serenity in my all too chaotic life.

When asked how I'm feeling, I find myself saying I'm bored. But that's not really true. It's not boredom really. Unsatisfied? Unsettled? A bit overwhelmed? Those would be more accurate. I keep telling myself that I just need to get through another week and it will be better. More calm. The puzzle pieces will fall into place properly and I won't be missing that one piece from somewhere in the middle. There's always too much to do, too much to do, not enough time. I cross one thing off my list and two spring up in its place, like some sort of mythic paper hydra. It all falls on me. I'm the one not working right now, so I've become the family's secretary because I "have the time". I'm becoming a bit resentful. It's showing.

This stupid cold/allergy thing I've got isn't helping my mood. I need to go to the doctor about it. It's been going on for too long. I can't breathe anymore. And I need him to sign off for my State Board application, so I can kill two birds with one stone. I'm so behind with my application. I graduated back in January and I haven't applied yet. I never had the time. Then I never had the money. Now, I have neither, but I have to find a way to make it happen. I need to study my ass off, too. A friend of mine failed the written part. Said it was very hard. Luckily, that's where I'm strongest. I'm a good test taker and the hardest subjects were my main strengths. So I'm keeping my fingers crossed. After I get my check-up and send off my application, it'll take at least a few months. I'm hoping to get in when my friend takes her re-test. All I need is a model. But that's another story...

***

Yikes:
Library book returned 100 years late. £5,000 fine!

Meh:
Anyone who knows me knows I'm not happy about the new colorized versions of our paper money. Here's the new $50. It looks...like Monopoly money.

Nifty:
Escher in 3-D here and here.

Hee!:
You have to watch this hilarious video with Will Ferrell. Too funny!

Always on the run...

I've got nothing today. I'm too busy to think about writing, much less write anything. I've been baking, cleaning, playing with various programs, helping kids with homework, starting dinner, etc. And I have to go out later. That's why I was baking. Made a cake to take along.

I'm so close to killing the boy lately. He's either too literal or too lazy or some weird combination of both. He's also driving my hormonal ass insane. Stupid PMS.

So that's what it boils down to: I'm busy and crabby. The usual.

Extreme Makeover

I was thinking about this article that I once read about those big changes we make. They seem like a sudden decision. You wake up one day and just do it. But, in reality, it's never really like that. What actually happens are a bunch of little steps that lead up to the end result, not that one big step we imagine we take. Reading this, I realized how true it was. Every major change I've made in my life went pretty much the same way. I'm fond of my major changes.

Anyway, the article-- I really wish I remember where I read this-- said that, at first, we churn the idea over in our heads for a while. This stage can last anywhere from weeks to months to years. It's back there, rolling around in your mind. Then comes the half-assed attempts at whatever you're thinking of doing. Call it a dress rehearsal. You're meant to fail a few times. Just to get the feel. Then there's that period where you're anti-whatever it is you want to do. It's from the failure. You're just not going to do it. Nope, no one can convince you that this is a good idea. Nuh uh. Then, the final step is the doing. I might be missing steps, but that's the gist of it. And that's exactly how I go about doing major things, like quitting smoking.

I quit smoking 5 months ago. Actually, today is my anniversary. Yay me! I'd been smoking since I was 18. To be specific, I started a month before my 19th birthday. I quit while I was pregnant. At one point, I stayed quit for at least 13 months before going back. My excuses? Stress, around other smokers, etc. Reasons I'm staying quit now? Sadly enough, my main reason is money. They cost to damn much. Over $5 a pack and up to $6 or so a pack. Also, I never want to have to quit again. That was a nightmare. I hated everyone and everything. I was so sick. Blech. But I followed those exact steps listed up above to quit. I'm determined that this is the last time I quit. Now, I need to lose the pudge. I've got this 10 lbs that just won't budge. It's uncomfortable. I'm not worried about it, though. I know I can get it off.

I'm heading into this fixer-upper mode. I've been slacking big time lately. Well, not really. I've been running around, but I've been neglecting the house. I want to remedy that now. I have to finish up the downstairs. I completely dropped that a while back and need to pick it up. I'm even washing curtains. I'm all gung-ho an' shit. I think I've finally escaped my funk and I'm getting into my slightly hyper stage to make up for my sluggish behavior. All I know is this; I'm gonna be a busy girl.

***

Aww:
Lonely old Italian pensioner gets adopted. I think that's the cutest thing. I'm losing my edge.

P.S.

Forgot to mention the voicemail message left by Psycho #1, a.k.a The Mad Poet and Upside-Down. That kinda tipped the scaled toward crap. Then I thought about my phone. I didn't get the call because my phone sucks ass and that's a good thing. So, just this once, my phone rocked. Go figure.

Running on empty...

Today was so chaotic-- so busy-- that I'm not sure how I feel about it. Was it a good day? Was it a bad day? Both elements were present. I can't decide if it was more one or the other. I woke up to my kids being loud and playing tag all while eating breakfast. That alone has elements of good and bad in it. Good that my kids get up and feed their faces without waking me up to pour them bowls of cereal, bad that they were running around and playing tag half of the time instead of sitting down and feeding their faces. So, after some mild shouting, I got up and started my day.

Saturday's our big shopping day. We do everything. We buy anything we need on Saturday. Food, clothes, whatever. Today, we had a lot-- moreso than usual-- to do today. Before we leave, my cousin's wife calls me and asks me over to a small family party for my cousin's birthday. I give a tentative ok before heading out.

First stop, library. Kids need books. They're grounded from the hole-y ceiling incident. No tv or games. Lots and lots of books. To my daughter, this is a treat. For my son, this is his worst nightmare come to life. I grabbed a few books that I think he'll think are cool enough to read and zip off.

Next stop, the music store where I bought my busted up 400 cd case. I still growl a bit thinking about that. But it is now replaced and housing my cds. I'm happy. That was a quick stop, too. I was in and out in 5 minutes. Sweet!

And then the AT&T store where I'm shopping for a new cell phone because I really, really, really hate this one right now. The little punk ass bitch has been shifty for the longest time. I find the phone. My dream phone. The one with zoom. Discoutned more than I expected, too. I lunge for it. They say that I have to wait another month to get the discounts and then I'll also get a $50 rebate. Much pouting, cursing, etc was done. Yes, I threw a mini-tantrum. I'm not proud. I want that damn phone!

Off to the video game store. But, oh wait.. The pet store. The cat needs a new collar. And a pooper scooper. And an enclosed litter box. Ok, now off to the video game store. The boy lost his friend's game and we need to replace it. Of course, I didn't find out about the missing game until just recently. I was not happy. In fact, I think I might've sworn. Oh, wait... That was over something else. Same day, though. Ok. So we replace the game. Boy owes me money. I will collect.

Ahh, my home away from home, Macys. But this time, not for me or the kids. I need a birthday gift, pronto. Well-off cousin. What to get? I do the lame thing and get a sweater. But at least it's a lovely Ralph Lauren sweater. I grab a box and jet because dear fucking god it's getting late and I haven't even done the food shopping yet.

Food shopping. But that's boring. I had the world's slowest cashier. Now I don't know about y'all, but I prefer to pack my own groceries. This girl... Ugh. She kept grocery-blocking my ass. And she'd put, like, two things in a bag and hand it over. Very frustrating for a practical control freak like me. Eventually, she got the clue and let me take over.

I race home. There are two messages on my machine. More family that wants to see us. Grr. I'm tired, cranky, hungry. I feel icky. I call to cancel on the party. I cancel the other relatives. I eat and organize cds. Screw 'em all, I need rest. But I adore my new cd case. I eye it lovingly and even caress it at times. So pretty. I need more cds.

I can't believe I have to wait a month for my phone..

Zzzzzzzzzzzz...

This cold-- I think it's a cold, I'm not quite sure-- is killing me. I can't breathe. I've had to use my beloved Advil Cold & Sinus, the occasional squirt of nose spray, and a puff or two off my inhaler to get by lately. This, for me, is a big deal. Usually, I only use my inhalers once or twice a year. At first, I thought it was just allergies. Both my son and I were stuffed up, sneezing, etc. Then my daughter was showing symptoms. A few days later, my mom started up. Another few days after her, my father started up. It has made me suspicious. Today has been bad. I've been having these moments were I nearly pass out where I'm sitting/standing. Kinda freaky. I need to drag my ass to the doctor....eventually.

Took the boy to the dentist again. He had to get his cavities filled. He freaked the hell out when he saw the big ass needle. He tried to rip it away from his mouth and I had to hold his hands down. The rest was cake. He's been proudly-- insert some rolling eyes here-- showing off his brand new fillings. They also sealed his teeth. It was very nifty. They applied three products and then applied a light source to it. The light hardened the seal. It looked very much like LCNs (Light Concept Nails). I was discussing that with the dentist and she agreed. Pretty much the same thing. Very nifty.

Ok, my alarm clock seems to be working once again. Still haven't named it. Her. I've decided she's of the female persuasion. But my cell phone's been acting loopy. Not a surprise. It's been more of an inconvenience than anything since I've gotten it. I've actually had to get a replacement after it got messed up from playing a game. Yes, a game screwed it up. And, apparently, this was a known issue for my model of phone, but they never warned anyone about it. They also never charged me for replacement. But I've had it with the phone lately. The antenna is shit. I only got it 'cause it was a camera phone. I've got my eye on another one. It has zoom, but I doubt I can handle the price tag that comes along with that zoom. It's only for use until my contract runs out anyway. I plan on switching service providers.

I'm slowly heading into job hunt mode. I can't fully dedicate myself to it yet. There are other things that need my attention. It took me until today to realize how much my confidence had been shaken by my previous employer. That woman did a number on me. I've been hearing about karma biting a rather large chunk out of her rather large derriere and, at first, I'll admit that it thrilled me a bit. Now, I feel kinda bad. Not so much for her, but the other people who work there. I liked them and they deserve better. I'm less bitter towards her now and more ambivalent. There seem to be a lot of salons looking for nail technicians. This is sad news. I hate, hate, hate doing nails. I'm thinking about going for an assistant job at a larger salon or sticking to a smaller salon. I'd love to do color or aesthetics. I had fun learning microdermabrasion and wouldn't mind doing that again. I'm just glad that I've regained some confidence and I'm looking forward to getting back into a salon.

***

Hee!:
A man legally changes his name to "They".

Quiz Mania!

Your end will be like the one that befell SWEENEY
TODD, or his sidekick/landlady/possible lover
MRS. LOVETT!! So take your pick: You can
either be thrown into a large baking oven by
the man you hoped to marry and be burned to a
crisp, or you can have your throat slit with a
razor by the boy that the two of you
accidentally turned insane. Or, of course, you
could be one of the barber's clients and end up
in a meat pie. Lucky you!


How will you meet your untimely, yet fantastic, Broadway-style end?
brought to you by Quizilla


***

Somehow, I'm not entirely surprised by my fantastic, Broadway-style end..

***


You are: KETCHUP! A good loyal friend with a
sense of humor.


---What fast food condiment are you?---
brought to you by Quizilla

***

Yay, ketchup!

Back to School Night

Tonight is Back to School Night at my kids' school. That's the night that parents go to the school (at night-- duh) and have a look-see. We get to sit through a boring assembly. The principal, vice-principal, superintendent, PTA committee head, school board, some oompah-loompahs all give speeches that they gave last year. At the end, the principal reads the same poem he's read each year, at the Back to School Night and at kindergarten graduations. I know this because I've been to two of those kindergarten graduations.

After this, we all shuffle out of the gym and head to our kids' respective classrooms where we get to sit in tiny chairs, our knees somewhere near our ears, while the teacher gives a speech and we get to rummage through our kids' desks. That, if you haven't figured out, is the fun part. I've found out, since I've started going to these things, that my daughter, though showing signs of OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder), is quite the slob in school. My son, though he never draws unless under extreme duress (that's what he gets for having an artist for a mother), doodles quite a lot. I organize their desks and get a package of things I can take home.

The package usually consists of a letter the child is forced to write to me-- another highlight as my kids are unintentionally funny-- and some drawings or art projects-- again, aimed towards me. All during this, they try to suck you into joining the PTA-- "Act now! Only $5 to join!" Sometime during all of this, I meet the teacher(s). I've come to expect their startled glance. Yes, I am young. Yes, I go by my maiden name. No, I won't kill you much if you call me by the other last name. It's pronounced just as it's spelled. Yes, it is rather easy to say, isn't it? If you'd rather, you can call me by my first name. Yes, it is unusual as well. And so on and on. Eventually, I make my escape. Sometimes, I run into someone I knew from high school. That is, if I can't do the ol' duck and run before they spot me. And I'm done! Home sweet home! No more teachers, no more tiny shrunken desks and chairs, no more glazed-over stares.

Until Parent/Teacher Conferences start..

***

Hee!:
Top 10 Most Ridiculous Black Metal Pics of All Time. Quite funny. I love the one with the open fly. Oooh.. Scary!

Doomsday (Averted?):
It's the end of the world as we know it. The when of it all is the tricky part. So is the how.

What a way to go:
Man shoots monkey stealing fruit from tree. Monkey turns out to be wife. If I had a nickel for every time that's happened..

Yay!:
This guy has got to be the best DJ ever!

Freaky:
Hen egg found inside duck egg. I'd like the odds on that happening.

Science geeks:
Why eyes in paintings seem to follow you wherever you go. No, it's not in love with you. It's how you perceive it. Very cool.

TV review:
Watched Lost last night. All I can say is this: "So good!"

Evil Children, Part Deux

Did I mention that children are contrary? I'm sure I did. My daughter will argue with anyone over anything. Even if she's basically agreeing with you, she doesn't realize this because she's too busy arguing with you. The girl loves to argue. And she's very, very stubborn. To the point where it's ridiculous. But she'll argue that as well. A conversation/argument between us yesterday:

Her: Flipping through a book, America Is, that is about-- duh-- America and its 50 states. She stumbles upon a map and is confused the the two states in boxes over by the Pacific Ocean. She turns to me, frowning-- her most common expression since birth, I'm the only woman to have ever had a frowning baby-- and asks, "Mom, how many states are there?"

Me: Without even looking at the book, I reply, "Fifty."

Her: Shaking her head and rolling her eyes at my obvious stupidity, she sighs loudly and points to Alaska and Hawaii, "But what about those?"

Me: Glancing over quickly to see what she's pointing at. "Yeah, they're part of the fifty."

Her: "NO!"

Me: Shocked at her outburst, I turn my full attention toward my youngest and inquire, "No?"

Her: "No!" Her face is all scrunched up and turning red. She points again to Alaska and Hawaii. "Why are they there?"

Me: "Because Alaska is waaay up there and Hawaii is waaay over there and they couldn't fit all that onto one page. So they put them in little boxes here. But they are part of the United States."

Her: "Ooooh.. Ok." She looks back down at the map again. The frown is creeping back onto her face. "So they're 52, right?"

Me: Rubbing my temples as the faint throbbing of an impending headache can be felt. "No, they are part of the fifty. There are 48 here. There are two there. 48 + 2 = 50. Fifty states."

Her: "They can't be fifty! They can't! What about those two? Why are they there?!"

Me: Swiftly losing my cool. "I told you! 48 here. Alaska up there! Hawaii over there! That's two more! 48 + 2 = 50! Fifty!! There are fifty states!"

Her: Glaring at me. "Not fifty!"

Me: Growling, "Count them if you don't believe me.."

So she scurries off for a minute or two. I then hear crying. I get up to inspect. Yes, I know. I should've just taken a detour to the nearest bar. Had a shot or two or ten and then continued my argument with my daughter. But I'm not always bright. And I'm not a raging alcoholic....yet.

Me: "Why are you crying?"

Her: "I keep trying to count, but then I lose track. How many states are there again? 42?"

Me: Facepalming, praying for something to intervene before I kill the child. "50. Fifty states."

Her: "But what about...?"

She never finished that sentence. Or if she did, I wasn't there. I did an abrupt about-face and marched on out of that room. I needed to save my sanity and that child's life.

And she still doesn't believe there are fifty states.

Stupid Alaska and Hawaii.

Unless you're from there, then I'm sure they're quite lovely an' all. But really, can you blame me? Really?

***

For the science geeks, I give you two articles:
The Milky Way's center is a frozen sugar cloud and Methane Mars.

What a way to go:
Yikes! What did she do to piss off god?

Hee!:
Lame excuses or Morrissey lyrics? I love McSweeney's Lists!

Pea soup?

Being of scientific mind, there are some things I've been very curious about. Mostly things that are illogical, such as human behavior. In specific, the behavior of children. As a parent, I'm curious about this because I'd love to find a way to make my children behave. Just a little. I know, it's an impossible task. But one can hope-- as illogical as that is. I have a confession. If you're a parent, you'll I'm sure understand and quite agree: Children are evil.

Sure, they're cute and cuddly and you love them very much. That doesn't change things. They're evil. They're contrary. They're prone towards doing very stupid things that they know are wrong and stupid, but they do them anyway. Are they possessed? When you ask them why, they will tell you "I dunno.." And that's if you're lucky. The child that does have a reason, well, you'll want to take a Valium or two before hearing it. There is no real reasoning behind it.

An example: My two darling children, playing downstairs, while I'm coloring my hair upstairs (with the assistance of my mother). I hear a thumping sound. I shout down to them, "What's that noise?" The thumping would stop for a big, then start up. After a while, my daughter scurries up the stairs, breathlessly eager to rat out her older brother. "Mom! (The Boy)'s knocking holes into the ceiling!" How do you react to this news? Does this happen to other people? So I scream for the boy to present himself, front and center. He shows up, trying his best to look as sweet and innocent as he can, but his nervous blinking gives him away. I try to stay calm. I ask why. Why in god's name would anyone poke holes in the ceiling? Did this seem like a good idea? Did it seem the the right thing to do? Why? Whyyyyyyyyyyy?! And he replies with a shrug, "I dunno.. But (The Girl) did it too."

Mind you, I'm still having color slapped onto my roots. Two fuming women-- one sitting, one standing-- trying not to go completely bat shit crazy on two little children. I can feel The Look coming on my face. I know it is when I look at my slightly cringing children. They're sneaking pleading glances towards grandma, hoping for reprieve and finding none. Oh, yeah, grandma's pissed. They're in trouble now. I turn to the girl. I ask a simple "Why?" and get, "But (The Boy) did it more than I did!" What that has to do with my question, I do not know. I tell her this. She only repeats, "He did it more than I did!" That is when I lost my shit. Yes, I'm not proud of myself. I screamed, I ranted, I raved, I foamed at the mouth. When I slowed down, my mom filled in. We were a tag-team of motherly rage.

So our basement now has a hole-y ceiling, they are without tv and/or games for a very long time, and I need a Valium.

Like sands through an hourglass...

My alarm clock sucks ass. Granted, it is old. I've had it for so long that I don't even know how long I've had it. I can tell you this, it has a tape deck and a faux wood finish. It's that old. So, understandably I guess, it's not working so well anymore. For the past several days, it has not woken me up. It does that occasionally. It's quirky like that.

My mornings have been kinda like this: I wake up, I glance over at the clock, I see the time, I jump out of bed, cursing up a storm. Not the way I want to wake up, I can assure you. I'm going to have to get a new alarm clock. Preferrably something a bit more modern. I might get all kinds of fancy and get a cd player built in. Woo!

For some strange reason, alarm clocks never last with me. This is the only one that has lasted, as quirky as it is. I have bad alarm clock karma. Or it thinks I need more, much more, beauty sleep. Did I mention that I get judgemental alarm clocks? It apparently doesn't like the music I listen to, so it won't play my stations. They get all staticky and crackly. Whereas on other radios, these very same stations will play clearly. More clearly than other stations. Maybe it's because I never named it and it feels insulted.

Those who know me know that I have a compulsion to name nearly everything around me. It's a habit I've always had. Maybe it's an only child thing. I don't know. But I generally name everything. My computer? His name is Erwin. He's clunky, geeky, awkward. Quite like his name. I love my Erwin. He's good to me. Why didn't I name the radio/tape player/alarm clock? I don't spend much time with it. So I never assigned it a name. I haven't even assigned it a sex! It's trying so hard to show its personality, I think. Hence, the quirkiness. I should name it. Maybe then, it will behave.

***

Nifty:
Lightbulb burns for 96 years. I can't even keep mine going for more than half a year.

D'oh!:
Man attempts suicide by cobra, gets bitten and shot. Lives.

What a way to go (sad):
Killer kite masacre. Normally, I'd mock this. But children died and that's sad. Adult stupidity shouldn't lead to the death of innocents.

Hee!:
Man misses court date due to bad haircut. I giggle everytime I see the picture.

Hee! Part deux:
Kids' show host chastised for wearing sexually suggestive tee on air.

Fool's Luck

You are the Fool card. The Fool fearlessly begins
the journey into the unknown. To do this, he
does not regard the world he knows as firm and
fixed. He has a seemingly reckless disregard
for obstacles. In the Ryder-Waite deck, he is
seen stepping off a cliff with his gaze on the
sky, and a rainbow is there to catch him. In
order to explore and expand, one must disregard
convention and conformity. Those in the throes
of convention look at the unconventional,
non-conformist personality and think What a
fool. They lack the point of view to understand
The Fool's actions. But The Fool has roots in
tradition as one who is closest to the spirit
world. In many tribal cultures, those born with
strange and unusual character traits were held
in awe. Shamans were people who could see
visions and go on journeys that we now label
hallucinations and schizophrenia. Those with
physical differences had experience and
knowledge that the average person could not
understand. The Fool is God. The number of the
card is zero, which when drawn is a perfect
circle. This circle represents both emptiness
and infinity. The Fool is not shackled by
mountains and valleys or by his physical body.
He does not accept the appearance of cliff and
air as being distinct or real. Image from: Mary
DeLave http://www.marydelave.com/


Which Tarot Card Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Don't Forget to Breathe

Stress. It's a part of my life. A big part of my life. It makes me cranky. But, then, a lot of things do. I don't sleep well, my back is in knots, I feel my breathing change. So many things to do. But I can't do certain things until other things are first accomplished. I have to wait for these other things. I hate feeling out of control. I hate it when things depend on other people. I hate waiting. Waiting makes me stress out. When I stress out, my diet (not diet diet, normal eating diet) goes all to hell. The combination of stress, bad diet, lack of sleep wreaks all kinds of havoc with my body. Most especially my skin. I break out when I'm stressed. I've been breaking out. I'm not a happy camper. That makes me stress out more. It's a vicious cycle.

People always tell me that I seem so laid-back, relaxed, together.. I'm hardly any of those things. I just have a great poker face. Really. I'm so good at hiding what I'm feeling that it's rather sad. When I think I'm giving it all away-- my face is showing everything and I'm embarrassed about it (Can't help that, I was raised that way. We do not show how we feel. It isn't proper.)-- I might, in actuality, be showing only a glimmer of what I'm feeling. Or so I'm told. I don't watch my self in a mirror constantly so I can't know for sure.

Anyway, I need to get zen in a bad way. I'm a mess.

***

On a lighter note, some Emmy's talk. I watched most of the Emmy's last night. I flipped to Dead Like Me for a while and then flipped back to watch the last bit of it. Here's an Emmy's blog and an article. The whole thing, the show, felt rushed. They played that "Shut the Hell Up, Already!" music way too soon. I think everyone giving a speech was cut off by it. Seemed rather rude of them. There were some funny moments, unfortunately nothing scripted. Why do these awards-type shows kill all the funny?

***

Oops?:
She did it again. Brit done did got married this here Saturday. A look at her possible future. Check out the groomsmen. Classy.

Uh?:
A, umm, goat beauty contest? Whatever floats your boat!

Science is scary/fun:
Scientists to study 1918 killer flu virus. Sounds like the beginning to a horror movie, doesn't it? The really disturbing part? They're infecting monkeys with the virus grown from tissue exhumed from victims of the epidemic.

Woohoo!:
Man sells empty beer can on ebay for nearly $11,000. No, J, no one will pay that much for your empties.

Awake. Barely..

My sleep schedule's so thrown off. I'm not sure when I should sleep or what. I've got appointments out the whazoo here. Did the eyes yesterday. My 'script didn't change. Woo! Then the doctor tells me that at a certain age change slows and then, once I reach 40, they'll start getting worse again. I'm not in any hurry for that. But I saw some cute frames that I want, but don't need 'cause I don't need new glasses. But I want! So cute!

Also dragged Monsieur Booboo to the vet yesterday for his, well, booboo. He hissed and clawed and was his overly melodramatic little self. Ok, not so little, he's 13 lbs now. I had to unlatch the top of his carrier to drag him out, he wouldn't come out for anything. Not even food! He'll normally do anything for food. He had the crazy eyes the whole time there and managed to wriggle out of the nurse's hands when getting his cortison shot-- to keep him from scratching his booboo-- and lunge at the doctor, losing a tuft of fur and freaking out everyone in the room. Now he won't take his antibiotics. I've tried sneaking it into his food. No dice. Any advice would be appreciated.

***

My Sharona:
Bitty Schram is leaving Monk next season and is being replaced by Traylor Howard. I hope she doesn't suck. I love Sharona.

High on Life?:
No matter what this may look like, Courtney is clean (sorta) and sober (or something).

D'oh!:
A cop, intent on suicide, puts gun to head, fires at point-blank range, and....misses.

For the shoe-obsessed:
Egyptian giant dropped out of school early, can't get a wife, but finally has a pair of shoes. All is good in the world.

(Don't) Go West:
Schwarzeneggar granted parole to 34 convicted murderers and kidnappers in his first 7 months in office.

Aww:
Look at the cute kitty with the knife!

!#@$^$%$&#@!

So I finally had the money for that big 400 cd case. I'd saved and saved for quite some time. I ran in and bought that sucker. I was so happy. Finally! Room for all of my cds! I hurried through food shopping. Hurried on home. Got 200 of the cds in one side and turned to the other side and....

The fucking zipper is broken.

Yep. Broken.

I spent that whole time, alphabetizing as I went, slapping in those cds-- 200 cds!-- for naught. Now, some of my cds are homeless once again. I'm sad, angry, disappointed. I have to wait until next Saturday to get a replacement. Thank god I compulsively save receipts or I'd be really pissed. $60 for that thing. Grr.

***

Hee!:
This cat burgler is fond of shoes. Seems he picked up on the family business.

Yikes!:
Never go to that restaurant. But if you do, don't piss off that waitress! Can't say I blame her entirely. I once was a waitress and have been tempted to do the same.

Oops!:
Man calls during his own funeral. Turns out that he didn't know he was dead until he read his obit.

Doh!:
Try not to buy a truck that's too big for the garage like these firemen.

Dear Mr. Sandy Claws...

I got the Disney Store catalog today.

Now, I know I'm an adult, but I can't control myself when I see things like this. Or this. And this.

Umm.. And these.

That, too!

Erm... That, that, and that.

You think that's bad? There were more things in the catalog...

Such as these and that. And, uh, this.

Did I mention that I love the movie?

Sharpen Your Teeth

Had to drag the kids out of school early today-- I'm sure they're quite torn up over that-- to go to the dentist. Just a checkup/cleaning thing. Turns out the boy has 2 cavities. I found myself apologizing to the dentist. I don't even know why. I guess I feel like a bad mother because my child has cavities. He has to go back next week to get some work done on them. That should be fun.

For some odd reason, this dentist doesn't have evening hours. Nor does she have weekend hours. I hate taking them out of school, but it's the only way I can get them in to see a dentist at all. Oh, and a visit to an orthodontist was recommended. Seems like the girl might eventually need braces.

This week is crazy with appointments. Today, it was the kids at the dentist. Tomorrow, I have an eye doctor's appointment. The cat has a vet appointment. The poor thing. His collar-- I got the stretchy kind so he wouldn't choke himself should he get caught on anything-- had this rough spot that rubbed part of the back of his neck raw. I removed the collar immediately. But then he kept scratching at it. He won't stop. I'm always chasing after him, chastizing him. I have to get one of those dorky looking cone collars from the vet so he won't scratch that spot anymore. Hopefully, there is no infection.

I still have to set up yearly checkups, for me and the kids, with our respective doctors. And I need to visit a dentist. My wisdom teeth are giving me hell. These appointments are piling up and I'm going insane. I have to leave myself little notes everywhere so I don't forget which appointment I'm going to on what day and where I need to be for that appointment. Today, I kept forgetting I was at the dentist. I kept calling her the eye doctor. The mind is the first to go...

***

Why practicality is often not appreciated:
A funeral parlor that rented space in an Austrian nursing home, is in trouble after putting coffins in the window. No one wants to be reminded of their impending demise. I'm in the express lane going to hell for laughing at that article.

Epiphanies R Us

Wow! I didn't expect to decide so soon. And on something that wasn't even in the running. The title came from an inscription in my favorite book, American Gods. J-Dawg was the bestest guy ever-- I can never sing his praises enough, the man is my hero!-- and got it autographed by Neil Gaiman for me. In it he wrote:

Strange things
by
Neil Gaiman

Perfect!

P.S. Sorry, S! I know you only just got my link up and I go and change the name on you.

Things I'm Gonna Do...

I'm pondering various changes to this blog. I'm kinda bored with the design, but can't really find a template I like well enough yet. I'll get around to that some time this year. I am also thinking about renaming this bad boy. The title is too long. I can't even remember the whole thing most of the time. So I'm thinking, I'm planning. I've come up with some ideas. But I'm the type that will debate with myself until I go insane, so it'll be a while..

***

But for now we have news time!

Sad Punk:
Johnny Ramone dies at 55. Rest in peace.

D'oh!:
Thieves rob bus full of policemen. That's just sad, man.

Party!:
Who said that jury duty was boring? Drink 'em, smoke 'em. It's all good.

D'oh, part deux:
Convicted murderer accidentally released. Watch out, Philly! This is so beyond an "Oops! My bad.."

What a way to go:
I guess this is why mom always said to wear clean undies before leaving the house..

***

Hair update: I'm completely sold. My hair has never looked this good, and with so little work, ever!

And the Beat Goes On..

Some more of this and that..

I'm not normally a news person. I don't think I've sat down to watch the news in years. It's mostly depressing. I already know there's a lot of ugly out in that world, I don't need to flashed before my eyes every day. But I do like my quirky news. That little bit of Twilight Zone brought home. Sometimes it's scary, sometimes it's funny, sometimes it's just weird. Hell, at times, it can be all of the above! When I find that scary/funny/weird bit of news, I like to share it. And this is the perfect medium for just that. My collection of oddities.

Not that all of my links are about bizarre news. I've got a smattering of geekiness, be it music or science, and gossip as well. What do you expect? I'm in an industry that thrives on gossip!

Anyway, my point-- I do have one!-- is this: I've noticed that my links run along certain themes. The themes I listed above. I'm going to try to regularly post links for those themes or categories. Yay!

So here we go..

Science/tech geeks:
The new Quick Switch flashlight that takes batteries of different size! I'm so glad they finally came out with something like this. I never have D and/or C batteries on hand, but I always have AA batteries. Now if they'd make more electronics that did the very same thing..

For you, J:
Playboy will have an issue featuring Raelian women. Actually, it hits the stands today. You know you want it.

Politics (I swear you won't see this one often):
Who knew that the Bush family were such a kinky, drugged up family? Ok, I knew about the drugs. Who isn't familiar with Dubbya's infamous past? Or his daughters? But this should be an interesting book.

What a way to go:
I'm cringing at this one. Maybe because I've always been rather paranoid about helicopters in the first place. Lesson learned here: Don't go on expensive fishing trips.

Hee!:
Man pleads guilty to snatching hairpiece off diner's head. Of course, it was a bet. But it's funny enough that I would've done it for free. It reminds me of a scene in Jumping Jack Flash when Whoopi rips off Mr. Page's toupee while she's drugged up on truth serum. I love that movie!

That's all for today. Until next time, try not to snatch too many toupees!

The Things I Hate About You..

Dear Psycho-

What can I say, really? Every conversation I have with you makes me realize more and more how glad I am that you're no longer a big part of my life. I'm slowly, oh so slowly, phasing you out. You, of course, do not know this. But you will.

Dear, you bore me. I read your IMs and my eyes glaze over. Most of the time, I skim the content-- since you seem to think more is more-- but lately I haven't even done that much. I do a mental "Blah, blah, blah". My replies have nothing to do with your conversation. Yes, your conversation. I've grown so weary of thinking up a reply that seems like I'm kinda sorta paying attention. Now I just have my own conversation with myself. But you haven't noticed even that, have you?

I think back and wonder, "Were you always this incessantly dull?" I can't quite remember. I don't think you were, but then I craved some boredom at that time. I was going through a wicked separation and, before that, my marriage had been so erratic that I longed for the mundane, the ordinary. It's what I thought was stable. But you're far from that, darling.

I came so close to telling you to shut up and go away, far away forever last night when I forced myself to talk to you. Phasing you out, hon. You've become crass and moronic. You try so hard. Too hard. At everything. It flops and makes you look worse. You never used to try so very hard. Maybe that's it. I don't like people who try hard to be cool and impress me. You used to be yourself. I'm not impressed, babe, or jealous. I won't be either. You forget that I never was the jealous type.

You always said that you wanted to be my Prince Charming. I always said I never wanted Prince Charming. You said I was too strong, never needed anyone. It's true. I don't need anyone. But that doesn't mean I don't want. I stopped wanting you because you needed me too much. Prince Charming, your suit of armor is rusty and tarnished. There are gaping holes and dents. You rode in on a hobbyhorse, not a steed. It's a good thing I never wanted Prince Charming. It's too bad you wouldn't give your props up. Look where your ultimatums get you, sweetie.

You said that you wanted someone just like me. You compared her to me many times and found her lacking. Yes, you told me all of this. I don't know why. You said that when she sat a certain way, she looked exactly like me. You said you had her but wanted me. Did you think I'd be charmed? Did you think I'd come running back to you? Or were you trying to make me jealous? You got this instead, snookums. Not what you expected, eh?

Last night, you told me of your shallow life, shallow friends. And it sickened me further. You try too hard. They try too hard, too. You mock them to me. Your friends. Her. What did you think would come from this? You tell me that you're afraid that I'll be the fifth person this year to abandon you. Have you ever wondered why? Why these people-- five!!-- avoid you? Did you never stop to wonder if maybe it was you? No, I'm sure it was them. Right, love?

And I'm sure it's me, too.

Never yours, never again-
R

***

Goodness, I'm on a writing spree, aren't I?

I'm Really Hot

I've decided to hire (I paid in taffy and cds) my own PR firm. Ok, just one person. J's blurb about me and my blog:

"Erratic Prophet's blog is a mix of powerful insight and gut busting humor in the vein of Chuck Palahniuk, Toni Morrison and P. Diddy."

Damn, I'm good.

And he's a really good liar.

Scattered

Today will be a little bit of this and a little bit of that..

Get your motor runnin':
My mom came home from work yesterday practically frothing at the mouth. "We have to watch Oprah tonight!!" she insisted, "She's giving away cars to her whole audience!" And, indeed, she did just that within the first 15 minutes of the show. I need to get on that show.

What a way to go:
I mean, you can't even prepare for an event like this. It's vaguely reminiscent of the way Georgie dies in Dead Like Me.

If at first you don't succeed:
What I don't get is why, when someone keeps trying to die, people just don't let him? Really.. You know he'll be up there, doing it again. Just get the scraper ready for when he hits the pavement.

Ouch:
Just...ouch. I'm cringing reading this and I'm a girl. I don't think I could ever get that angry.

Oooh, shiny!:
Holographic caps. Kinda nifty, but would I ever buy? Not likely. I did, however, buy the nail polish. It is not lame, J! You shut up! Only problem is that you can't put a top coat over or it changes the color and it chips after a few days.

***

Current hair update: Still looking good. Little to no frizz and it's kinda humid. Scalp feels good. Hair looks good. No greasies or anything. Smells good, too. I can use this as an excuse to buy a fabulously expensive conditioner!

Full Frontal Fashion

So I got bored today and there was nothing on tv. I flip over to this show, Full Frontal Fashion, because I'm a shallow girl who likes her some fashion. I used to always watch fashion shows when I was a teen. I even thought of becoming a designer one day. This, of course, was back in the day of the supermodel. When the models had actual personalities. Or tantrums, whatever. It's much preferable to what I saw today.

Dead-eyed mannequins with sunken cheeks, clomping by like graceless ponies or puppets on string. Is heroin chic back? And when did 12 year olds start with the heavy stuff? I saw more bone than muscle tone. I could play the xylophone on their ribs. Where models always this young? That one looks ten. It reminds me of an Ab Fab quote, I'm paraphrasing: "Soon they'll be chucking fetuses down the runway."

That one looks like she has a rope tied around her waist and it's dragging her down the walk. That other one looks like she's concentrating really hard on her walk. Did I see a glimmer of personality there? Nope, false hope. That one walks like a wind-up doll. I'm looking for the key. Dear, god! That one has the longest torso ever! EVER! It's like giraffe neck long. She looks stretched. But her poor legs. They look shrunken and a bit stubby. Wow.. It's a bit freakish looking. How did they let her in? GAH! Breasts! I just saw breasts! Who let her in? She has an actual body!

Oh, the clothes? They're ok.

***

Update on the curly hair project. I think I might've found the holy grail in curly hair care here. I tried out the no shampoo, only wash with water and conditioner thing. I don't feel all greasy. My hair looks amazing! No frizz! And I'm very, very frizz prone. I'm going to keep going with it.

Ms. Manners?

What do you do when you're not talking to someone, but they don't know this 'cause you're afraid to tell them that you think they're weird and scary, and their birthday is coming up? What is the protocol for this situation? Is there a specific thing you should do? Like-- oh, I don't know-- maybe tell them "I think you're icky and creepy and I really have been hiding from you, but HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"? Or do I send a passive-aggressive mean, yet funny, e-card? Do I pretend it's not happening and keep avoiding this person, while pretending that I'm not really avoiding them? What does Emily Post have to say on this subject? Probably that I'm a big ol' wuss and I should just tell so-and-so that I don't want to be their friend anymore. But it's like kicking a puppy.. He's so pathetic and sad and he's already driven off a few other people already. Shocker that, huh? I put more work into avoiding him, but seeming like I'm not really doing so, than I put into the friendship in the first place, I think.

I'm a sad, awful person.

So, e-card?

Curls and twirls..

Can't write much tonight. Waiting for people to come over. I'm so sleepy. I spent the whole night looking for this perfume I had when I was a kid. It was my very first real perfume. I'm sure it's discontinued because I can't find it anywhere. All I remember was that it was a purse spray, Dior, and smelled of apple blossoms. I loved it so much.

I finally got to the library this week. I found a book that someone-- I can't remember who-- recommended to me. It's about curly hair. It's pretty darn fascinating so far. It talks about how shampoo is the worst thing to use on curly hair and how to cleanse the scalp with conditioner and water alone. I've only just started reading it, so I can't give it a grade yet. But I do like what I've read so far. I also got a bunch of mindless fun books. I plan on reading up a storm.

Yikes!

I can't believe I forgot this creepy link! You can't see it in as much detail as my magazine, but the hair? Plugs. Like a doll's. That's some creepy ass shit there. The whole doll-like thing makes my skin crawl.

Links of the Damned

Found some funny/bizarre/freaky links lately (most from other sites), namely:

The man with the jaw in his back. This one's kinda cool/freaky. It's cool that you can grow a jawbone that quickly, but freaky that you can grow a jawbone in your back.

The yoga lady. Watch the video. She's kinda scary/funny. Images of her bouncing side to side in her happy little yoga dance still pop into my head. There's so much badness there. The wreath on the head, the mini-wreaths on the wrists, the big honkin' lei around her neck.. I can't even begin to describe the clothing. Or the vivid pink stripes on her cheek. An homage to Adam Ant, perhaps? I cannot say. But she sure is a happy lady, isn't she? Makes you wonder what she spikes her Kool-Aid with. Oh, yeah!

Pea beer. Yes, you heard right pea beer. Not pee beer, but beer made with peas. It's causing a price war. It also brings a whole new meaning to eat your veggies.

And last, but certainly not least, When Senior Pictures Go Bad. There is much giggling and snorting to be had here. From the Bears fan to the, well, apparently I'm a pervert.. But flaming helmets?

I'm so naming my band The Flaming Helmets. Our first album will be called Pea Beer.

Mini-Update!

A mini-update on the stove clicking situation: It has been resolved. I almost lost my shit with the clicking, so I opened the sucker up and had a look-see. Apparently, according to my mother, there was a "coffee explosion" this morning. This is not unusual in itself, it happens often enough. I come from a long line of "coffee exploders". The problem was that the wires were sitting in a lovely puddle of coffee from the explosion. I managed to dry them off with paper towels and my handy-dandy hair dryer.

All is well! Yay!

***

Edited to add:

I fucking spoke too soon. The clicking has started again. I'm about to take an ax to my stove.

Grr.

Move 'em on, head 'em up!

A round-up of sorts since I've got nothing. I am the most boring person in all of existence. And I still haven't gotten all of the way through my super-Vogue. It's huge! Lately I've had no attention span at all. Usually, it's sad enough. I normally claim to have the attention span of a gnat with ADHD, which I think is a pretty accurate assessment. It's even worse lately. It doesn't help that there's something wrong with the stove today and it keeps making that clicking noise that it makes when it's lighting up. But I'm not trying to turn the fucker on, it's off. It even does it when it's on. I don't think I can handle this if it goes on much longer. I can't make it stop.

Ok, round-up. Some links for your viewing pleasure:

Gotta love this story. Playboy's now catering to horny teenage boys? But I do love her hair.

Ok, I never even heard of this movie, but ew. Really. Is she shocked by the public's reaction to it?

Pretty cool info for the science geeks out there.


Cut 'em out, ride 'em in, rawhide!
RAWHIDE!!!

Baby sings the blues..

I'm feeling a bit pissy/whiny/cranky today. I feel positively soggy from the unbelievable amounts of rain we've gotten the past year or so. It's been raining the past two days in a row. I don't sleep well when it's soggy. My asthma kicks in and gives me the finger. So I'm tossing and turning and trying to breathe. I wake up sore, even more tired and oh so irritable. I don't even remember my dreams, I'm so tired. I wake up with a weird jumble of thoughts and images that quickly fade. It's disappointing because I love my weird dreams.

As I said, I'm cranky. Even on the best of days I'm a bit cranky, so this isn't a big deal. I'm used to my own crankiness and can temper it a bit. But there are a few things that set me off. I'm talking frothing at the mouth crazy ticked. One of these things is grammar. I know my grammar's not anywhere near perfect, but I do try to make an effort. Some people flout grammar. They wave their private parts at grammar. I really hate it when they misspell grammar, too. This leads to another thing that sets me off.. Spelling. It's not so hard to look up the spelling of a word. There are so many online dictionaries now that it's ridiculous. If you're unsure of the spelling, check it!

The last thing is sorta combined. It's a mixture of fashion and music. I'm talking about bad trends, people. Soulless pop music infiltrating our airwaves. The many inseparable blondes singing this drivel. They all look alike and sound the same. But that's old news. What's getting to me lately is the stupid Von Dutch-esque trucker's caps that are still around. Why? And they're worn sideways. Why?! That is the dumbest look ever! EVER!! Stop it now! See what you're bringing me to? I'm the crazy exclaiming lady now! Yes, you. The one I screamed at this weekend. You with your hipper-than-thou shaggy hair and purposefully mismatched clothing. You with that stupid cap on sideways. Yes, that was me screaming "You look stupid! Turn that cap to the front or back, you moron, 'cause you look like a fool! A fool!" You made me sound like an old woman and I am not happy about that or you. I can't believe you were allowed out of the house looking so ridiculous. Just seeing you made my palm itch. You need a few smacks upside the head for that.

Ok, I feel a bit better. For now. But if you're that moron, please look in the mirror. You look idiotic. Fix the hat!

I am the new low..

I'd just finished posting yesterday when I remembered that I'd forgotten to bring up a few things. I figured that I'd just write about them today. I was too tired/lazy to go back and repost. So I did something very, very sad: I jotted down notes for my blog. Yes, notes. I'm officially the saddest person on Earth and maybe the universe. Someone shoot me now and put me out of my misery.

What were my notes about? Just a few things.. I wanted to be sure to mention TWOP's MTV VMA recap. It was so funny I nearly peed myself laughing. It's long, but worth it. I stopped watching the VMAs years ago. I now only read the recaps. I'm a much happier person for it. Go read!

Another thing I've been thinking about it my long-time semi-lusty obsession with Adam Ant. He was my first object of pre-adolescent hormones. It was the whole tight leather pants, pirate, cavalier thing. Mostly the tight leather pants. It doesn't hurt that his music rocks and he's British. Gotta love them Brits. Well, anyway, one night I was google-stalking. I looked him up and found his profile somewhere. Big mistake. I found out he turns 50 in November. He's older than my mom. Yeah.. I felt kinda icky after that. But he was pretty damn hot. Ugh..

I'm a lost cause.

***

The kids had their first day of school today. All went well. No one burned anything down. They like the teachers. We'll see how they feel next week.

Woo hoo!

I'm a giddy, giggly girl today. Tomorrow-- that's right, I said tomorrow!-- the kids go back to school. Today was spent labeling the hell out of everything. Also had to make a Home Depot run to get some tiles for the bathroom floor. That's going to be a pleasure I can tell already. It took three days for part of the shower to get retiled, can you imagine how long the floor will take? I can't hold it in that long, man.

Anyway, I digress.. School's tomorrow and everything's beautiful. I will shove them merrily off and shimmy-shake back home. I might even go take a nap!! Can you imagine? Tomorrow's my very special day. I will cherish it always. Then the job hunt begins.

I'm excited to get back to work. Who knew a summer was so damn long? It never seemed that long before. It felt like several lifetimes went by while I was home with the kids. I'm sure I see a few more grays and fine lines. Ok, no fine lines, but probably grays. And if, after the summer I've had, I haven't started smoking again, I won't be smoking any time too soon. This was the summer of drah-ma! Everything that could go wrong did, in fact, go wrong. Up yours, Murphy!

***

I've been having some disturbing dreams lately. Mostly about nasty ex-boss and psycho-I-no-longer-speak-to. They're even more vile in my dreams. Nasty turned out to be one of those reptilian V-like creatures. God, I so dated myself there. I'm old, people! OLD! Anyway, Nasty ripped off her face at the end showing her true cold-blooded nature, not that anyone was very shocked or anything, as I recall. There seemed to be a collective "Hmm" with the considering cocked head nodding. Like this explained everything. Which it probably would. Did I just inherit more bad karma for that comment? Don't tell Kosmic Kev, J! Oh, and psycho-I-no-longer-speak-to was her hunched evil little minion. I think he was an imp or something like that. Some kind of mini-demon-like thing. He mostly hopped around, catering to Nasty, and was all sniveling. Each time he appears in my dreams, it's less flattering for him. He needs to learn to stay out.

That's it for this installment of The Days of the Not-So-Young and Restless. See you tomorrow some Bat-time, some Bat-channel.

Petals Around the Roses..

As I've said before, I've been really into games lately. Simple little online games. Puzzlers. I found an incredibly simple yet excruciatingly difficult game.

I give you Petals Around the Roses.

I nearly went insane with this game. I stared at it. I guessed correctly a few times, but no one theory worked consistently. I was adding, subtracting, mutliplying, dividing. I was not really paying attention to the rules. That's where my problem came into play.

Some clues:

• The name is very important to the game.
• The answer can only be 0 or an even number.

It took several hours of me tearing out my hair before I got it. Felt pretty bloody stupid afterwards, too.

Good luck!

***

Countdown: 2 days!

Wear You Out

I really need to find a normal sleep schedule. I'm so tired. It's partly your fault, Stinky. You put me into storytellng mode. I'm paying for it today. The other part of the problem is the water. I'm picky about my water. It cannot have any taste to it whatsoever. Well, I got this other kind of water last week. It was on sale. It tasted...weird. Kinda salty, maybe mineral-y. I don't know. I didn't like it. I tried making it really cold, still could taste the weirdness. Yes, I know I should seek help. Anyway, since I couldn't drink my water-- I drink water almost constantly all day long-- I had to drink my green tea and soda. Both are caffeinated. So at 3 AM I was ready to run around the block a few times, not head to bed. But I've got the good water this week. I learned my lesson. Don't buy water on sale.

***

I went to my cousin's house for dinner. The whole family was there for dinner. I got to snuggle up to the baby. Oh, how I love babies. I got to hold her close and smell that wonderful baby smell, hold her up to play with the wind chimes, watch her root through my purse and pretend to talk on my cell phone. I thought about how much I missed having a baby. Then she got tired and cranky and the screaming began.. That's when I smiled and remembered why I'm glad that's all over with.

I don't think the cat would allow another child anyway. He barely tolerates the two here now.

***

Countdown: 3 days!!!

Slacker-B-Gone

Today has been a frenzy of phone calls that I put off a wee bit. And I'm still not quite done. Just taking a mini-break. I have to set up a few more appointments and then I'm in the clear. It doesn't help that certain people (i.e. my evil children and father) keep throwing up obstacles that I have to leap. Maybe if I tie them up and throw them into the closet for a few hours, I could get more done.

I can dream, can't I?

***

Go read this. It deserves a standing ovation, at the very least.

Space travel is boring..

Been sorta restless. Itching to do something. To create. To get down and dirty and fully immerse myself in something grand. Problem is that while the will is strong, the inspiration is weak. I pick up a pencil and doodle. That's all I can seem to put out are an endless supply of idiotic doodles. I'm trying to not get impatient or irritable about it, but that feeling is there in the background. I used to draw, paint, and/or sculpt for hours a day, every day. Now, months can go by without even a doodle. So I should be glad that I'm at least doodling, right?

I've been looking at the works of various favorite artists. I'm hoping my muse will come to me through them. Instead I just gape in awe at the wonderful things they created. I can waste hours just staring like this. I don't get much accomplished that way, but it is a fun way to whittle away at the time. I'm still a total art geek/snob.

***

I found something cool today in the news. Italian scientists found a way to reconstruct a 3,000 year-old Egyptian mummy using 3-D x-ray imaging. I'm still amazed at what science can do.

***

Countdown: 5 days!

Mini-Update

Completed both The Crimson Room and Blue Chamber. Not easy. Felt kinda dumb afterwards, though. I love puzzle games. I have to hunt down more.

I have played MOTAS all the way through. Well, as far as they have. I'm waiting for more levels. It's fun.

***

I've been kinda beating myself up for being a bit of a coward lately. Those psychos I mentioned before? I'm kinda sorta hiding from them. Well, been avoiding one for a long time now. I only just started avoiding the other. But I told the first one that I was done dealing with him, I haven't done that with this other one. That's what makes me feel like a bit of a coward. I'm sure I'll get over it. Just had the shock of my life, though, when he popped on my IM even though I'd blocked him. I panicked and set myself to away. How embarrassing is that? I'm kinda ashamed of that. I should just come out and say that I'm done with him. I'm sure eventually it'll come to that. Baby steps an' all.

It took so long to realize how sick my relationship with him was. And I think I'm mostly mad at myself for always second guessing my instincts. I even found myself sorta defending him to someone else. That's when I started to wonder what the hell was going on. He is yet another in a long, long line of psychos that I've had in my life. In a way, they're all the same person. Self-centered, selfish, immature, and passive-aggressive. Not to say that I'm perfect by any means. I have my own problems and my own baggage. I'm the first to point out my own faults. But these people were emotional vampires. They sucked every bit of joy and caring out of me. And they're so hard to get rid of! They make you feel awful for your feelings of self-preservation. You're just like everyone else, abandoning them. Everyone abandon's them. That's part of the reason why I'm avoiding that one. I've been through all of this before with him. I don't feel like a re-run. I'm kinda hoping that if I avoid him long enough, he'll just forget I exist. Out of sight, out of mind?

Well, I already know he's out of his mind..

What I do with my day..

I've been a complete slacker today, playing games and reading silly little things.

I wasted a good amount of time here today. I played some of The Crimson Room, but the combination I got didn't work so I gave up. I got through The Viridian Room. I'm having trouble with the new Blue Chamber.

99 Rooms is also rather diverting. Cool and creepy. I even jumped a bit.

And a few funny essays.

.....I dunno what to say about him...

***

Countdown: 6 days!