09 September 2010 @ 01:56 pm

This week has been blessedly short. There's something about a Monday off which always seems to make the week go by faster, no matter what it brings otherwise. On life's agenda for this week: customers who can't pay their bills, teenagers who party all too frequently for my old-lady tastes, my father's inability to deal with artistic nudity (which leads me to wonder how he would feel about my art, were to ever show him a meaningful example of it), another bout of insomnia, and nightmares about Sarah Palin.

The first thing is far too common to really go into, but I will make a note that I find it humorous, annoying, and generally unsettling the amount of people who seemingly cannot process the concept of "we cannot sell you further products until you pay for that which you've already 'bought.'"

Despite my fetus-status (in-joke nickname from a group I belong to, for those who just friended me), I often find myself reminded of just how much an "old lady" I am in thought; nothing does this more than the (mis)adventures of the Kid. (As a short recap for the new people on my f-list(s), I currently rent living space from my second-cousin, J, who is my mother's age. J has two children of her own, L (a college student only three years my younger), and the Kid, who is a fifteen-year-old pest hell-bent on driving us all bonkers. )

In which I rant about those damn kids on my lawn. )

In which my dad is a four-year-old. )

In the end it was a pleasant few hours, and then they left and I spent the rest of the day hermiting as always. Good times, good times. In fact, I got so much sleep on Monday night that it almost makes up for the two days of insomnia that followed. What I didn't expect, though, was to dream about Sarah Palin.

Really, brain? Sometimes I think you hate me. Involved in the dream, what I can remember of it, was a margarita machine my company was installing in her house (which actually is what our company does, just not in Alaska), my delivering her cake and ice cream, and her being a generally nice, wholesome person, wherein "wholesome" is not a veiled insult for "fundy." The entire time, the back of my mind was screaming that it was a trap.

Which it probably was, but I thankfully woke up before she either turned me into stone or shoved me into an oven.

24 August 2010 @ 02:18 pm
As many issues as I might have with my job, sometimes, I can honestly say one thing: my coworkers are unendingly awesome.  Rather than let some mechanic shop nickle-and-dime me out of money I frankly don't have, the guys offered to help me out with some car trouble, today. I supply the parts, they take care of the installation. (Though I plan to watch so that I can actually learn to do it myself.)  I was so floored by this, I almost cried.  That's probably stupid and overly emotional, but dammit my eyes watered.
15 July 2010 @ 05:33 pm

Original version here.

Holy crapness this is awesome.