Sunday, October 30, 2005


Umm... About that Gilbert Godfried thing. I'm watching
"1o0 Scariest Movie Moments" on Bravo and he's one of
the commentators. And I have to say that I don't think
that he's... well, aged in a manner particularly conducive
to my continued desire to...

shall we say, get to KNOW him better. In that way. Just
thought I'd share.

The Toilet

Is. Still. Fucking. Broken.

Dylan cannot fix it. I cannot fix it. It is Fucked. Up.

I hate it. I am so annoyed that I would actually go out and buy a
new toilet were it not for the fact that I know it would be largely
more difficult to install an entire toilet than it will be to fix this
stupid problem at the top of the tank. And I would get my dad to
come over and fix it but he is working at his Pumpkin Ranch at-
traction thingie through Monday and then he is off to Gulf Shores
for a week. And we are leaving for Palm Springs Thursday.

And I have huge shit coming up at work that I can't really talk
about yet, but I'll fill everybody in when I can. Bizarre shit though
I can say that much. Oh yeah, and I'm supposed to do this sleep
study tomorrow night with these electrodes strapped to my head.
Get this. NOT because they think I have apnea, but because they
want an overnight baseline on how I sleep because of my weird
brain waves. Whatever. On Halloween. Pretty funny.

So life is strange and my toilet is broken but on Thursday I'll be
able to escape from it all to sunny California for a few days. Yep,
that pretty much sums it up.

Saturday, October 29, 2005

The Toilet is Broken

So I had to turn off the water because it was leaking and dripping
down the back wall causing water damage to the bottom floor, not
to mention $70 water bills. Dylan was in there trying to fix it to-
night, but apparently was having problems because I heard much
cursing and kicking of objects. I let it go. He came by that honest-
ly. The good news is that what we thought was the house leaking
from the outside may have actually been the toilet. The bad news
is that it is more difficult to fix than we thought. Of course, we
CAN do it. And we COULD call a plumber, but being stubborn, my
son and I, we won't. Why? Because we figure we SHOULD be able
to figure the damn thing out.

Currently, I've sent him to go help my dad with his Pumpkin Ranch
for the night. I have a tiny - emphasis on slight - head cold, which
is just enough to make me feel a little puky but not anything truly
wretched. Thank God. Cuz we all know what a fucking baby I am
when I don't feel good. I think I've demonstrated that for all of you
here before if I'm not mistaken.

Tomorrow I really need to clean the damn house. I mean REALLY.
I know that's my never ending mantra, but we've managed to get a
lot of things done already so it doesn't seem so overwhelming to fi-
nish it tomorrow. And I want to have it clean before we leave for
California. Hopefully we can finish the toilet in the morning. I'm un-
coordinated and clumsy on the best of days and I'm going to break
my neck if I have to keep navigating the stairs to go down to use
Dylan's bathroom when I'm half asleep in the middle of the night.

Palm Springs

My son Dylan and I go on our annual pilgrimage to Palm Springs
this Thursday - Sunday. The head of one of the companies I work
for hosts it every year. I have a feeling though that this year may
be the last year we have it because the company has gotten so big.

Image Hosted by Image Hosted by
Photos of the Villa Royale, a beautiful Inn where we stayed through
last year. Unfortunately due to the size of the company, we have to
move to a larger more impersonal hotel this year.

Image Hosted by
Musical Chairs is so much more fun on tequila shots.

There will be much boisterousness and drinking and the shoving
of people into swimming pools. And should someone decide to
shove me into a pool, my son will help me not at all. I know this
due to his history of not helping me in the past. Point in case
below, from last year's trip:

Image Hosted by
Me after being oh so rudely dragged into the pool last

Also, the main partner in the company is permanently annoyed
with me these days. Not just with me really, with all of us, on ac-
count of too much inventory, declining market etc. Last week on
the phone I was called, and I quote, "a crazy schmuck." I further
infuriated him by spontaneously bursting out in laughter as that
is, after all, one of the funnier names I've been called. I plan to in-
corporate it somehow into an aol screenname and IM him with it
next week. You know, before the trip to California. Just to make
things really interesting when I get there.

Actually though, since this is suposed to be a trip where everyone
forgets about business and stays drunk all of the time (except my
son of course - he picks fruit from nearby trees, surreptitiously
slips it the swimming pools and then laughs as all of the drunk peo-
ple, most of whom are not from California and have never seen fruit
growing on trees, wonder how the pools are bringing up limes,
lemons and oranges). Anyway, so they'll have to be nice to me and
actually, once the alchohol takes hold, all of the sins of the past year
are usually forgiven and everyone gets drunk and parties - again,
except my son, who gets to come every year because I brought him
the first year and they found him so amusing they forbade me to go
without him after that - and... there you have it.

Image Hosted by
Dylan last year, resting between pranks.

Actually, to be quite honest I think they said something about lik-
ing him better than me. Umm, MUCH better. Something to the
effect that his presence is the only thing that makes MY presence
tolerable. Or words to that effect... So anyway, once again, my son
is my one saving grace.

Here are some pretty views from the top of the Tramway in Palm Springs.
Its so high that the temperature actually changes dramatically from the
city of the Palm Springs to the top of the Tramway. It's also really fucking
scary to ride in. There are all of these people crammed into one cable car.
The cable car doesn't really "latch" onto the cable. Instead the little do-
hickey that hooks it onto the cable just kind of sits on top of the cable and
is secured by, get this, "gravity." Yep. And the cable car turns around as
it goes up and down the hill so you kind of have to elbow people out of
your way to get the photos you want. Umm... that part was no problem
for me ;P
Image Hosted by
Image Hosted by
Image Hosted by ImageShack.usImage Hosted by
Image Hosted by

Friday, October 28, 2005

Ok So...

This is my 2nd or 3rd 6:3oam work morning in a row. Did I men-
tion that I'm not a morning person? I could say that a few times
and it wouldn't be enough to properly reflect how serious I am
about that sentiment. But anyway, I needed to be at one of the
plants early, so I was. Not that its helped particularly in what I
was trying to achieve, but I did try.

So anyway, I just remembered this afternoon, as I contemplated
going home, soaking in a hot tub and then relaxing in bed with a
book and a cup of hot tea, that I can't do any of those things to-
night. Or at least, not for a few hours. I promised my dad I'd help
him at the Pumpkin Ranch.

My dad runs this Pumpkin Ranch. You know, with a corn maze
and hay rides, and a pumpkin patch, etc. It's a local attraction of
sorts. Because there is a God, this is his last year. Ok, so it also
has something to do with the fact that he didn't make ANY MONEY
AT ALL running this thing during the past four years. So anyway.
By the way. Since I forgot I was helping him tonight, I wore a skirt
and tights to work today. Yep. I'm going to freeze my stupid ass off.
Gotta love it.

Thursday, October 27, 2005

The Turn Around

Sometimes life has a really funny way of just... turning around. It's
one of the reasons you should never kill yourself. You know, just to
see how it all turns out. I mean, you'd never forgive yourself if one
night you had to a few too many, went into the bathroom, got into
the tub, slit your wrists and bled out onto the linoleum - only to find
out that six months later...

Your long lost uncle Hugo from Bombazeria who is, by the way, fil-
thy rich and has been searching for you lo these many years should
suddenly come to town. And it turns out that your mother, whom
you THOUGHT would have NEVER cheated on your father (al-
though those feathered earrings she wore in the seventies should
have been some kind of subtle indicator perhaps) had a wild but
secret fling with a prince who later died in a bloody coup attempt
(aren't they always). But the Royal family knew about you and
though your mother had tried to keep your location secret for fear
that they might someday snatch you, they have finally found you
and merely want to bestow upon you their love and wealth. Except
oh yeah, you're dead.

Where was I? Ok, so things have been ULTRA busy at work but I
really am having, dare I say it? A good time. Fun! At my job, for
the first time since I can remember. Glad I didn't off myself in the
bathtub. Or you know, put out resumes everywhere.

Monday, October 24, 2005

I'm Not Dead or Anything

I've just been working and traveling a lot. And too tired to get on-
line at the end of the day. But everything is ok in Sydneyland.
Just nothing terribly exciting to report. I know, I know, that's
never stopped me before...

Monday, October 17, 2005

I hate it when these things hit home...

Ok, so its right. So what? Lucky guess. They probably ALL say
the same thing right? I can't hear you! RIGHT? Here goes:

The ancient science of numerology offers insight into the personality
by assigning numeric values to names and birth dates, calculating
numerological values and then interpreting the results.To calculate
the values used in numerology, all digits of a number are first added
together. If the outcome is a number with more than one digit, the
resulting digits are added together again until they are reduced to a
single digit. For example, the number 27 is reduced by adding 2 + 7
to get 9. The number 1974 is reduced by adding 1 + 9 + 7 + 4 to get
21; then 21 is further reduced by adding 2 + 1 to get 3. All numbers
are reduced to single digits between 1 and 9 except the special mas-
ter number 11, which is not reduced in numerological calculations.

Letters are first converted into numbers, which are then added toge-
ther until they become a single digit. The letter A = 1, B = 2, C = 3,
etc.; M = 13, which becomes 1 + 3 = 4. For example, the name Amy
is equal to 1 + 4 + 7 = 12. 12 is then further reduced by adding 1 + 2
to get 3.Your Numerology Portrait applies the results of several cal-
culations to provide insight into the most important aspects of your
personality. If you have a Y in your name, please consult the table
for further information on how we treat that letter's dual nature as
consonant and vowel.

Your soul number reveals your inner, private self, the underlying
motivations that influence your decisions and actions, your subcon-
scious desires and your most deeply ingrained attitudes. (It is deter-
mined by adding the values for the vowels in your full birth name.)
Your Numerology Portrait is based on the following calculations:Is
Y considered a consonant or a vowel?- If your first name begins
with Y, then Y will appear in the "first vowel" section of your por-
trait. All other sections of your portrait will treat that Y as a conso-

If a Y appears in any other position in your first, middle or last name,
it will be considered a consonant if preceded by a vowel and vice ver-
sa.Total for each letter: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9A=0 B=0 C=0 D=1
E=2 F=0 G=0 H=0 I=0 J=0 K=0 L=1 M=1 N=1 O=1 P=0 Q=0 R=0
S=1 T=1 U=0 V=0 W=0 X=0 Y=3 Z=0 Consonant Total: 6 (33)
Vowel Total: 5 (23)Grand Total: 11 (56)Date Total: 8 (35)Missing
Number(s) are: 9First letter is SFirst vowel is Y Your Soul Number
is FIVE.A deep inner restlessness and discontent with the status quo
makes you seek out adventure, excitement, and the unconventional.
You thrive on new ideas, change, travel, experimenting with new
ways of doing things. Predictability and routine make you feel life-
less and unhappy so you must find a lifestyle that is varied enough
to be mentally stimulating and challenging.

Independent, freedom-loving, and easily bored, you have trouble
making commitments and finishing projects. You often "move on"
prematurely, whether in a personal relationship or in your work.
You need to develop discipline and perseverance when you have an
important goal. You have many talents and need many outlets and
avenues for their expression, but try to finish one thing before at-
tempting the next.

Questions - Discipline? Perseverance? What are those? ;P

Sunday, October 16, 2005

Its Really Weird

I thought once my son hit teenhood I would never see him again.
You know, except when he wanted money. But it appears that he
actually does want to talk a lot. Mostly about girl troubles. Not
that he EVER listens to what I say or BELIEVES anything I have
to tell him about how girls think. Even though, you know, I am

Mostly, he likes to discuss these things over food. And herein lies
the rub. I love food. I love all food. I in particular love ethnic
foods of all types. My son has a list of about twenty foods from
which he will eat. I'm just kidding. 22. This is how our conver
sations go. You know, when we're trying to decide where to eat.

Mom: What's your problem with Mexican food. After all, your
grandmother is Mexican. (I mean, not really, she's Mexican-
American, but liking Mexican food should be, you know, in his
blood, from my perspective.)

Dylan: I know, but she never really cooked it when I was growing
up. So I don't know.

Mom: Well, what about Chinese food, what's your problem with
Chinese food?

Dylan: I don't have a problem with Chinese food.

Mom: So, can we go eat Chinese today?

Dylan: No.

Mom: Why not.

Dylan: By not having a problem with Chinese food I meant that
if Kung Pao Chicken were to apply for a job with me I wouldn't
discriminate upon the basis of culinary genre.

Mom: You don't own a business.

Dylan: True, I guess that makes it a moot point. Let's go to Pizza

Sunday, October 09, 2005


So I just found out today, belatedly it seems, that one of my favor-
ite blogspot bloggers, Porkchop, was dooced and has taken down
her site. NO NO NO! I am totally upset. I loved to read Pork-
chop! Come back, Come back! Please, we miss you, and staring
at all of that blank white page on your website CAN'T be good
for the human eyeball...

Our Yard

used to be the most pristine and beautifully manicured lawn on the
block. People would come from miles around just to look at it.

Then we moved in.


Saturday, October 08, 2005

Yes Well...

I need to go do housework. But I just wanted to say...


Friday, October 07, 2005

I Have Strange Attractions

I do. Like for instance... The guy in the new CDW commercials? I
think he's so cute. I KNOW. He's chubby. But he's SO funny and
cute. And it doesn't hurt that he reminds me a little of Vincent
D'onofrio from Law & Order. Yep. Another hearthrob of mine Go

Ok, this one IS weird. Don't puke on me now folks. Stay with me...
Gilbert Godfried. Yep. I got a little thing for old Gilbert. I don't
know how to explain that one. THAT I have a feeling, is just down-
right fucking kinky. Or wrong. Pretty bad. But hey, I can't help it.

And before you judge me too harshly, I know that a lot of you guys
out there fantasize about fucking a midget. Right after you give her
a bubble bath in the sink. So don't even fuck with me about Gilbert.
Because I know how you guys are. I know your secret sick desires.
Got it?

OUCH! Tell Me What You Really Think...

You Are Changing Leaves

Pretty, but soon dead.

Thursday, October 06, 2005

If You Want to Go Out with Me

There is one thing that you should never do as a prelude to a date.

Never, ever send me a photo that shows you wearing a thong.
Most especially not a pink thong. I mean, if you're a guy. If you're
a girl, I won't go out with you, but go ahead, send the photo. But
truly, for a guy? It is the kiss of fucking death.

I think we've already established that I'm a boxers girl anyway.
But I can handle the tighty whities. The skivies. I CAN. But not
bikini briefs, not thongs, not on a guy. Never, no, not that. GROSS!
Dude, What the fuck were you thinking? I was totally THERE
until that photo! I mean, WTF!

Update My Ass

Every time I've tried to sign in to write anything the system has
been down for its own "updating." Then by the time I finally can
sign in, the moment has passed. I mean, I don't get on here and
then think of something to write. It's more like this diarrhea of
the brain hits me and I have to splooge it out all over my blog.

Or in this case, blogs. You can't imagine how painful it is, all that
cramping and nowhere to relieve myself.
Are you happy now, Ben?

Sunday, October 02, 2005

But Seriously Folks...

I do have this runtime error that is the current bane of my
existence. And hey, that's saying a lot. Anyone got any
ideas for me?

unterminated string constant error

Yes. If any of you know what I'm talking about, and some of you
do - I have one. Which means that I have the privilege of going
back and reviewing the code to find out where and when I, or
someone whose code I copied, fucked up. Lovely. And there you
have it.

Men Get Confused

about this one a lot so I'm going to clear it up for you. Well, I'm go-
ing to clear it up for you as far as I am concerned. I can't speak for
other women.

One of my online guy friends who read my peep blog wrote and
asked me, "If the guy had stopped at his pickup and looked at the
view you were putting on display there in your short skirt would
you have been mad or thought he was harassing you?"

Noooooooooooo. Absolutely not. My entire point was that the guy
was within inches of me. He could have pushed me into my car, or
whatever. He had gone from looking to actually threatening - all
without saying anything. He had gotten so close to me that it was
no longer clear that his intentions were to merely look.

Also, in the US, we have what is known as the expectation of pri-

Which he violated.

If you are wearing a mini-skirt, you expect that someone is going
to look at your legs. You expect that if you walked up the stairs in
front of them, it would be a really tricky maneuver. You don't ex-
pect to have to guard the area immediately underneath your skirt
lest some lunatic pretend to drop a key and stick his nose under it.
That, my friends, is your expectation of privacy.

AndyT13 Has Been Hiding This Guy

Uggh! I sincerely apologize to God and everyone for perving on
the minor in AndyT13's blog. I swear, your honor, I thought he
was at least 26.

Andy's blog

Oh yeah, my headache is BETTER! Long live relpax, dark
rooms and sleep.

Saturday, October 01, 2005

It's Baaaaaaaack

My headache that is. Which brings me to my next point. I mean,
it doesn't really, but let's pretend, shall we?

Do you ever write a blog and then think to yourself... "Really, I
just cannot put that out there in its present form or maybe even
at all. Because its too stupid or (whispering) perhaps too violent
and you don't want the Secret Service to show up at your door.
Most especially not when you have a migraine. Because they
just NEVER have the good drugs. Or so I've heard.

Or anyway, do you ever just not put it out there because it just
sounds too... well, insane? Ok, I think we've ruled that one out
in my case. Not my insanity. Just that the thought that other
people would find out would ever keep me from posting some-
thing. I mean, you've read my blog. Obviously, it doesn't.

But anyway, do you? You know, hesitate...

So... It's Only Saturday Right?

I woke up with THE worst headache this morning but I took, you
know, some drugs, and it seems to be better now. Which reminds
me, I am almost out of said drugs. The good ones anyway. The
PAINKILLERS. And I can't reasonably expect to get more for a
couple of weeks. So I really DO need to find the prescription for
my non-narcotic fioricet. Which is what I was searching for when
I was oh so unceremoniously peeped yesterday in the parking lot.

Hey, maybe the guy was just upskirting me for some website. I
hadn't even THOUGHT about that option. You know, a little key-
chain minicam action? I could almost admire the balls that would
have taken if he hadn't come up with SUCH A STUPID EXCUSE.

So anyway, look for my ass in black panties in a black floral mini-
skirt bent over the passenger side of a lexus if you visit any up-
dated upskirt sites. Not that my ass hasn't been online before
right? Stupid guy, he should have just asked for the web address
to my blog.

For such a little town, my son and I have both been accosted in the
parking lots of the major supercenters here. Me at KMart (where
we don't shop). And him by some weirdo at WalMart, where we
get groceries all the time. Umm before you snicker, in small
southern towns, WalMart SuperCenters are the ONLY place you
can get a wide variety of fresh produce and meat items. And if you
have any penchant for ethnic cuisine and the fixings for such. Yep,
again, its WalMart. The weirdo at WalMart - and I won't even go
into the story, but lets just say that the sick fuck propositioned my
kid, who couldn't place him in a car, but did report it, wasn't caught.
No cops in the lot that time. Thankfully, my kid did all the right
things. But its scary. I'm so happy that he's, at this age, a big kid.
Geez, almost an adult now. Its so odd to say that. So truly odd.

Anyway, its Saturday, my headache is receeding and I really must
get some stuff done this time. This weekend I can't just let time
slip through the glass while I sit numbly by getting nothing done.
I really must do... SOMETHING constructive. Right?