Saturday, August 28, 2004
I Shouldn't Have Had that V-8
But it looked so good sitting in the door of the fridge. That last little bit, just enough for a glassful jammed full with ice. Ahhhh.All set up in my easy chair, little table beside me for the external mouse on this infernal laptop, V-8 all ready to make me happy and refreshed. But before I sit down and get all comfy, I just need to.....
*sploooosh*
V-8 everywhere. The living room now looks like the scene of a particularly messy murder. Splatters of slightly orangey thick and oozy blood over the floor, the computer, the couch, the cat, my legs....
Thankfully, I'd built time into my schedule to spend half an hour on my hands and knees scrubbing at the beige carpeting.
Since the last person to borrow the carpet shampooer did something to make it stop working.
I should sue.
So, here I am, back where I should have been 40 minutes ago.
Without that last glass of V-8.
Which now I REALLY want.
If I happen to knock over the glass of raspberry crystal light now on the floor beside me, I'm sure you'll hear the screams of frustration and thwarted thirst-quenching in Paris.
just because this kind of thing pisses me off
and I'm a mouthy little premenstrual shit disturber
(that is, if you need an excuse to stand up for yourself)oops. and now I'm just being all bitchy. I expanded on kim's comment a bit and sent the following to blogger.....
The blogger at the following link is plagiarizing other blogs.
http://inflatable-emu.blogspot.com/
The post which has alerted me to this plagiarism is
http://thisfish.com/Archives/000767.html
and was written by a blogger I have read for a year, who has very original content and whose blog entry matches her style much more than this EMU person. If you look at the comments for the post that alerted me to this, you'll see that other people who have investigated the EMU blog have seen that she has plagiarized many other blogs-- in fact, she probably hasn't written a single original word since the beginning as it seems even her profile appears to be stolen.
Since this is a violation of Blogger TOS, you have an obligation to shut her down immediately. This is intolerable, not only as a violation of your policy, but as an intelluctual violation of a blogger, any blogger, whether they be well-respected or not.
Following is a sample that other bloggers have posted in regards to this person: Compare (please note that I am too tired to check these, and in true Jen fashion, have trusted to my fellow bloggers:
http://inflatable-emu.blogspot.com/2004/08/my-mobile-phone-cooks-perfect-eggs.html (FAKE!)
and
http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/g/a/2004/07/02/notes070204.DTL&nl=fix (REAL!)
http://www.rics.org/ricscms/bin/show?class=Feature&template=/includes/showfeature.html&id=1277
Her Aug 10th post is from here:
http://nonsenseverse.typepad.com/nv/2004/07/maybe_i_should_.html
Her Aug 9th post is found here: http://luvabeans.diaryland.com/placenta.html
Although I have always been extremely pleased with my experience with blogger, I have noted - in this case, the first that I have experienced - that, despite emails over the last four days, this blogger has not been removed from your system nor have we seen any response regarding this issue. I, personally, take this very seriously and this concerns me greatly. Why have your stated policies not been dealt with in a more timely manner regarding an issue that I'm sure (by your articles) is close to your staff's hearts and morals? We all understand that the internet is an extremely transient medium but this is an issue close to the heart of all of us and it would be appreciated if you could look into this and deal with it in a manner befitting the character of the medium you are administering.
Much thanks
Jen ****
randomgestures@blogspot.com
(***) ***-****
random_gestures@shaw.ca
I can't be arsed to make them proper links but if I'm gone tomorrow you'll know that big brother google has had me killed.
lyric at post:
..Mama told me not to come
that ain't the way to have fun, son..
Friday, August 27, 2004
ahh, it really IS Friday isn't it?
A new word no one at work will 'get' cause I called someone a twat today. Could have heard a pin drop. No, I'm not trying to get fired.Okay, well, maybe a little.
Do I look like I give a fuck?
Like I said, I'm a lucky girl.
But for now, tonight, I am going to broil myself some premium cow (a shock, I know), drink some wine, hook up the laptop (but only so I can lay on the couch and write an email which is overdue), watch a movie, have a bath and then crawl into bed.
And maybe jack in a new blog if one of you comes up with a suitable name since my brain leaked out my ears this afternoon right about the time I checked out for a sec and called someone a twat in front of a couple of senior VP's.
I figure, lately, that you get what you pay for. Right? That's a generally accepted rule of thumb. They don't pay me enough to act like a lady. No, seriously.
On second thought, could anyone pay me enough to act like a lady?
Giving that a serious and sober moment, I have to admit that years ago I made the decision to NOT be normal (right about the time they wrote that reference letter, J,A - I should really blank out the names and post that, cause it really does make me some sort of superhero, even if it was 11 years ago. Can you imagine what I could have done by now if I'd given in to the 'man'? Staggering, really. I'm not even sure it's possible anymore, I may have mushed out my brain too much.) because I always thought that someday, someone would appreciate my inherent 'jen-ness' and respect my insistence that the person I am - is the person I am all the time. This is largely because I have a hard time with people who are multiple personalities (which appears to be completely acceptable and not quite so 'sybil-like' and requiring of medication as we are led to believe).
"Hi, I am eight-hour a day work Ian who loathes you." *ding* "Oh, it's five pm, I am now evening Ian, want to go downstairs for six or seven pints?" *ding* "Oh, HI THERE, you haven't met me yet, I am Ian with a pregnant girlfriend so I don't know you." (erm, just a name I made up there, sort of. Regardless, nothing dodgy there, ick, but JESUS, can you just be the same person for five minutes so I can get a fix on you? Is consistency some sort of a CRIME these days?)
Where was I? Oh, yeah. I tried. I tried a lot actually, but I've come to believe that I am looking for something that exists only in my mind (which, frankly, lots of things do BUT sometimes, even briefly, there are glimpses and moments and days where those things exist and I don't think it's too much to ask - obviously - for me to ramble on endlessly in parenthesis) don't believe that will happen. Unless I go into business for myself. Which - according to our 'infamous' tea leaf reader, I will - if I could ever come up with something I can do that someone will pay for. Pay LOTS for.
The conclusion that I have come to is that people will pay lots for what I am doing right now, but only if I can do it whilst I act like an automaton. Further, I have decided that if doing that for a year will get me the things I want (money) then that's what I will (money) do. Even though a year spending (money) eight hours a day as someone else goes against everything (money) I believe in with my entire being.... it's all about the (money) ability to get where I wish to be.
Plus my attention span is completely....ohhhh, look at that pretty blinking light on the modem.....
aaaand .. break...
To my shame, I have lost all patience with the growing hair as it spent all day tickling my eyeball, being at (one of many) the stage (yet again) that completely pisses me off and makes me want to shave my head. I have to confess that I have finally sunk to the level of ponytailing my bangs on the top of my head.
Yes, it's true. Please don't hate me.
I promise I will never go out in public like this. Don't leave me. I can change.
All things considered, though, my aura is not in the least bit prickly (according to the 'sensitive' people at work) and I am smug and happy. Not only for me, but for Jen,also who packed it in today for a move to a happier, more productive place. Of which I am inordinately proud (like I had something to do with it, which I didn't) but mostly because, well, she deserves it. Which is the short version of a very long and drawn out list of the reasons I absolutely adore her.
And, while I'm adoring people, let's just add Sal, a worthy blogger for adore-ment if ever there was one, and Dooce (Heather), as well as her husband, Jon (no 'h' there please), who truly must be among the most adored bloggers on the planet. They're having a hard time and for someone whose days have been brightened and enriched by the both of them, I'd like to wish them both a happy return home (and you should too).
lyric at post:
..build a stairway to heaven with a prince or a vagabond
and may you never love in vain
and in my heart you will remain
forever young..
Thursday, August 26, 2004
too deep for me
An extremely shallow acquaintance of mine called the other day. She's just gotten married to someone she's only known a few months and when I asked her how married life was ... her reply was this ... (imagine, if you will, this recitation in a completely flat and unexcited voice)"Well, you know.... we're still learning new things about each other all the time. I have noticed that I feel my space is a lot more ... err ... smaller. But, you know, it's alright."
Far be it from me to point out I was talking about this very thing but oh wait, I'll be right back because that was such a glowing endorsement that I feel I must marry the first person who'll have me.
Oh, sorry. You did, didn't you?
With the conversation being such a chuckly barrel of laughs at this point, I admit I wasn't really paying attention (being in the middle of quietly banging my head against the wall) and I made the mistake of answering her next question (you know, those "I am defined by a man so you must be too" questions) with some offhand innocuous comment about, yanno, that Aussie I can't get rid of.
OH god. Bad move, that one. She actually said ...
"OH! I looove Australians!! They're ALL sooooo blonde hair and blue eyes.... YUM!!"
And, I thought - SHIT, I GOT RIPPED OFF!! Who's in CHARGE here?? Mine's got GREEN eyes and BROWN hair! Someone GAVE ME THE WRONG ONE!!
Ah well, I'm sure at the very least he's wrestled a few crocs and boxed with kangaroos.
lyric at post:
..look away, look away
you might be tired and troubled but not today..
how to make me wonder how you lived without me
and therefore, how you will again
Call me and leave me a message like this...I am 100 feet away from the building and calling to ask you to remind me that I drove to work today.
Otherwise, I'll do what I did last week and take the bus home and then have to come back for the car.
(I shit you not, this is true).
don't bug me, I'm busy
Thoughts for Contemplation*Never take life too seriously..... Nobody gets out alive, anyway.
*Health is merely the slowest possible rate at which one can die.
*Give a person a fish and you feed them for a day; teach a person to use the Internet and they won't bother you for weeks.
*Some people are like Slinkies . ....... .not really good for anything, but you can't help but smile when one tumbles down the stairs.
*Health nuts are going to feel stupid someday, lying in hospitals..dying of nothing.
*All of us could take a lesson from the weather. It pays no attention to criticism.
*Why does a slight tax increase cost us two hundred dollars and a substantial tax cut saves us thirty cents?
*In the 60's people took acid to make the world seem weird. Now the world IS weird and people take Prozac to make it seem normal.
*****AND THE #1 THOUGHT FOR THE DAY...
You read how many Terrorists came here legally, then hung around on these expired visas, some for as long as 10-15 years. Now, compare that to Blockbuster; you are two days late with a video and those people are all over you. Should we put Blockbuster in charge of immigration?
lyric at post:
..we don't like talking in the morning,
and we dream all afternon..
Wednesday, August 25, 2004
oh, carp. or is that crap?
I just remembered I promised to tell the FBI story. But now, really, the lead-up is so much more than the story itself. *heavy gurgly fluey sigh*But, also, I have about 8 hundred million things to do today (and it's only 12:17 am so I best get to bed so I can actually START the day) not the least of which (why do I keep saying that lately?) is compiling / creating / writing a four page cover letter for that rocking job which pays (SAL) 20k more than I make so that it can be proofed by lovely Jen,also and sent off by 4:30 on Friday.
Pacific Standard Time. Cause I don't think time zones are a viable excuse for being late for something that is based on time management.
It'd be a bit of an oopsy, I think.
Sleeping now (except that I think I forgot to say how absolutely perfect you are today).
Halfway. Through the week.
I'm pretty sure all the disasters at work have been narrowly averted. Considering my knees kept me up most of the night, I'm not sure I care.At least the screaming meeming urge to sell the condo for this OR this one has passed. Although, with that last one I could have lived off the extra money for a couple years. Damn tempting, that.
But it's been a good day. *whew* Cause *I* was getting on my nerves.
Today's stupid ebay thingymajiggy? Right here.Erm. But it's dead now. It was 'Britney Spearmint' - gum she'd stepped on. Bidding at something like $1300 US last time I checked. Nice. Nice planet we live on.
Today's great comeback?
"God, C, that music makes me want to cry."
"You know what would make me want to cry? Training my whole life for one moment and then tripping."
He's got a bit of a point there, hey?
Otherwise, I have many many things to do tonight, not the least of which would be letting the cat out of the freezer.
And looking for lyrics that don't make Sal sad. Cause that's.... well... sad.
lyric at post:
..you call me sugar baby
but do you swear?..
Tuesday, August 24, 2004
12 hours of sleep but no end in sight
After restraining myself from slapping 1 boss and having 2 more pre-empt each other over my duties before scrapping it out in public in front of contractors / staff, thoroughly insulting me in the process, I hobbled home at the end of the day (still w/the flu) on screaming it'sgonnarain knees (which it now is) to lock the cat in the bedroom in the vain attempt to shut.him.up before throwing open the door after 15 minutes & screaming at full volume: "SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GO EAT YOUR GODDAMN DINNER YOU FUCKING FUCKWIT!!!"Whereupon it occured to me that on top of the pains, the aches, the flu, the job stress and the fifth day of rain, that I might just be premenstrual as well.
Oh the endless joys of womanhood.
I'm going back to bed now.
Monday, August 23, 2004
Can you just toss me another blanket? Thanks.
Cause, apart from making no sense at all, shivering all morning and the loss of my ability to correctly pronounce anything more than two syllables long, about 2 pm my entire body started to hurt.Now this could be due (and rightly so) to the sudden horrifying shocking bereft-ing removal slash loss slash leavetaking of my seeing eye person whom I shall not see for another four agonizing weeks this morning but, sadly, I must admit it feels an awful lot like the flu. Which has been going around the office.
(and yes, bereft-ing is now a word, because SICK people get to make up their own new words)
When I get the flu, which I haven't in forever, I also get fever pains. Sharp shooting pains in my hands (mostly) which make me yelp. And cry. Because pain in my hands is one thing I can't deal with.
The girls at work echinacaed me (and no, I can't be arsed to look up the proper spelling - I'm SICK), I've eaten a large amount of leftover Chinese, had a hot bath and am about to take my book and extra strength Nyquil and go to bed, where I will intermittently sob brokenly and pathetically before switching over to sweating and fitful nightmarish sleeping.
My empty bed.
With hurty hands.
*sob*
and oh yeah, being sick makes me slightly melodramatic
oh. err.
I meant MY bookstore. The one I own. In the town in my head where I'm the mayor. It's in the middle of the forest yet not too far from town. The only people who get to come in are people I like. Sometimes. When I feel like opening it. And some of the books I won't sell cause I'm just too attached to them. I think I may have even drafted a floor plan once, I'll bet it's in the same book where the floor plan of my house built on the side of a mountain is.Hey, I can't help it if I spent a lot of time alone as a kid. Eventually dewey-decimal-ling your own meagre library is done and you have to find other things to amuse yourself.
I'd tell you more about it except I have to work.
At least until I get to go home.
lyric at post:
..staring at the dark again
you left your silhouette on my pillow..
baaaaaack
Alright, here I am.But I am not happy about it.
And even unhappier by the "There's this thing and a speaker in Vancouver that we need to set up here." Can you possibly be any more fucking obscure? Oh, right, forgive me, I'd forgotten while you were blessedly away on holidays that you seem to deliberately try to fuck.me.over. Wanker.
And, tomorrow, I become a project manager. Apparantly.
I want to get up in the morning and go to my book store and read. Maybe, if I don't really feel like it, not even unlock the door and turn on the 'open' sign. I don't want to be organized. I don't want to take shit from idiotic children in adult bodies. I don't want to be the convenient scapegoat. I don't care that you think I should be able to read your mind for the shit money you pay me when it's possibly the last thing I care about.
And don't even get me started on the other YOU. Because I don't want to be unable to watch you drive away with my arm. Or something. Whatever that missing piece is. I don't want to grow up. I want to be a ToysRUs kid.
I don't even want to put enough thought into making any sort of sense.
