...how far you can shove a cell phone up someone's butt before you can't hear it ring anymore.
...where a wav of Whitney Houston screaming "Kiss my ass!" at her dolt of a husband Bobby Brown can be found.
...why so many people read this blog but don't say hello! I don't bite. Well, not too hard, anyway. As long as you're not a spammer, please say hello!
Monday, September 19, 2005
Friday, September 16, 2005
Just crabbing. Nothing exciting.
Haven't had much to talk about. Last week I was ready to say what a big poop head The Man can sometimes be, but we talked it out so that was good.
A woman on my floor at work who works in a completely different department than I do thinks it's necessary to let me know her comings and goings. She leaves stuff on my desk for customers to pick up when she's not going to be around. She's called to ask me to set up her phone to forward calls to her cell phone because she forgot to set it up before she left the office (we have voicemail - we're not in the dark ages here). This week she's been sending me email when she's going to be in late. I've come close to hitting the reply button and saying, "And I care because...?" As my PMS storm grows ever larger, her emails are growing ever so more annoying. If there's another one from her in my inbox tomorrow morning, I'm going to shove my keyboard up her... I mean, I'm going to talk with my boss about it. I've enough things to do without needlessly catering to this idiot.
God, sometimes I really hate being a nice person.
Babs' colitis isn't getting any better. Took her back to the vet last Saturday. They suggested Prednisone. We said no. There has to be a better way to help her. They're looking into a new steroid that supposedly stays in the intestines and doesn't get absorbed, thus no diabetes risk. They sent us home with special food, which she won't eat, and told us if the colitis didn't get any better this week to give them a call. It's still not getting better. Fortunately she's still eating and drinking normally, but I'm certain she's having no more fun with it than we are. Poor thing.
We submitted the following picture of her to the hateful kitty site just this past week. Keep your fingers crossed!
As pissed as she looks, she's really not.
It's really past my bedtime and I'm certain that I'm making no sense right now. So. Goodnight.
A woman on my floor at work who works in a completely different department than I do thinks it's necessary to let me know her comings and goings. She leaves stuff on my desk for customers to pick up when she's not going to be around. She's called to ask me to set up her phone to forward calls to her cell phone because she forgot to set it up before she left the office (we have voicemail - we're not in the dark ages here). This week she's been sending me email when she's going to be in late. I've come close to hitting the reply button and saying, "And I care because...?" As my PMS storm grows ever larger, her emails are growing ever so more annoying. If there's another one from her in my inbox tomorrow morning, I'm going to shove my keyboard up her... I mean, I'm going to talk with my boss about it. I've enough things to do without needlessly catering to this idiot.
God, sometimes I really hate being a nice person.
Babs' colitis isn't getting any better. Took her back to the vet last Saturday. They suggested Prednisone. We said no. There has to be a better way to help her. They're looking into a new steroid that supposedly stays in the intestines and doesn't get absorbed, thus no diabetes risk. They sent us home with special food, which she won't eat, and told us if the colitis didn't get any better this week to give them a call. It's still not getting better. Fortunately she's still eating and drinking normally, but I'm certain she's having no more fun with it than we are. Poor thing.
We submitted the following picture of her to the hateful kitty site just this past week. Keep your fingers crossed!
As pissed as she looks, she's really not.
It's really past my bedtime and I'm certain that I'm making no sense right now. So. Goodnight.
Sunday, September 04, 2005
Have you ever...
...said something and it came out sounding totally opposite of what you meant? I do it so much I can't stand it. I don't know how I do it and, try as I may not to, I still do. It happens in conversation. It happens when I write. Sometimes when I go back and re-read something I've written in my blog or on a message board I'm horrified by how it sounds, knowing full well that it wasn't my intention for it to sound that way. Sure I could go in and edit it to make it sound the way I intended, but a majority of people that are going to read it have already done so by then and have already decided that I'm no better than a steaming pile of dog poo.
I suck.
The Man and I finally went grocery shopping this morning at BJ's. We were down to some eggs, pasta, bread and peanut butter - good ingredients for an Iron Chef, maybe. Finished off my birthday carrot cake for breakfast this morning because, well, that's about all there was to eat! This is what the cake looked like Thursday once we finally started digging in to it at work:
We're heading back out at some point either this evening or tomorrow to finally celebrate my birthday. The more my actual birthday wore on, the more it went downhill. Between being anxious about getting Babs to and from the vet with all the crazy ass drivers that live around here, then all the poking, prodding, x-rays, etc., she endured at the vets office, my migraine, Babs' colitis kicking into high gear when we got home and making her leave a trail from the bathroom, down the hallway and into the dining room, by the time The Man got home I was mentally and physically exhausted. The headache part of my migraine was down to a dull roar by then so that I could at least realize that in spite of my nauseousness, I was incredibly hungry. So we ordered some pizza, pasta and fries from a local pizza shop that makes pretty good food and the 4 of us spent the evening curled up on the couch watching the Red Sox game.
When The Man got home from work that night he gave me a great big hug and said, "I'm sorry your birthday sucked." I just smiled and said it was okay, that I'd had worse. And as my mother pointed out, I've got a roof over my head and a place to sleep and in light of everything going on where Hurricane Katrina hit, I should be thankful for what I have.
And I am.
I suck.
The Man and I finally went grocery shopping this morning at BJ's. We were down to some eggs, pasta, bread and peanut butter - good ingredients for an Iron Chef, maybe. Finished off my birthday carrot cake for breakfast this morning because, well, that's about all there was to eat! This is what the cake looked like Thursday once we finally started digging in to it at work:
We're heading back out at some point either this evening or tomorrow to finally celebrate my birthday. The more my actual birthday wore on, the more it went downhill. Between being anxious about getting Babs to and from the vet with all the crazy ass drivers that live around here, then all the poking, prodding, x-rays, etc., she endured at the vets office, my migraine, Babs' colitis kicking into high gear when we got home and making her leave a trail from the bathroom, down the hallway and into the dining room, by the time The Man got home I was mentally and physically exhausted. The headache part of my migraine was down to a dull roar by then so that I could at least realize that in spite of my nauseousness, I was incredibly hungry. So we ordered some pizza, pasta and fries from a local pizza shop that makes pretty good food and the 4 of us spent the evening curled up on the couch watching the Red Sox game.
When The Man got home from work that night he gave me a great big hug and said, "I'm sorry your birthday sucked." I just smiled and said it was okay, that I'd had worse. And as my mother pointed out, I've got a roof over my head and a place to sleep and in light of everything going on where Hurricane Katrina hit, I should be thankful for what I have.
And I am.
Friday, September 02, 2005
Harry
This is one of the many reasons I admire Harry Connick, Jr. as much as I do.
I'd not been teary eyed once about what's going on in Katrina's aftermath until I saw Harry on the Today show this morning. You could see and hear his sadness and frustration. I wouldn't put it past him to head back to NOLA in spite of all the warnings and do whatever he can to help out.
Should anyone reading this not feel opposed to do so, please check out the NOLA Relief Fund on connick.com and donate should you feel so inclined, or please consider making a donation with your local Red Cross. Katrina's victims need all the support they can get right now.
I'd not been teary eyed once about what's going on in Katrina's aftermath until I saw Harry on the Today show this morning. You could see and hear his sadness and frustration. I wouldn't put it past him to head back to NOLA in spite of all the warnings and do whatever he can to help out.
Should anyone reading this not feel opposed to do so, please check out the NOLA Relief Fund on connick.com and donate should you feel so inclined, or please consider making a donation with your local Red Cross. Katrina's victims need all the support they can get right now.
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