Eeek!

Hey there, all you cats and kittens.

Not a long post...no news of the amazing sweat I went to this weekend, or the tattoo I'm getting tomorrow, or the painting I have lusted after that I now have the cash to buy. All that will just have to wait.

This is just a simple bulletin. By the time you read this, I will probably be in court, getting the relative state of my future adjudicated.

Happy thoughts, prayers, and outright fist-shaking demands of the universe would be appreciated from all quarters. At the moment I'm drinking a beer and trying not to be nervous with relative success. I even have my court clothes out already, and the Near-Omnipotent Tish is on the case. I have the same attorney who got the Artist off on probation on his second offense. That does not mean, however, that I won't take all the help I can get, and then some.

Update when I have one. If it's delayed, don't worry; the chances of me actually going to jail are infinitesmal, but I do have a lot going on tomorrow other than court and may not be around the computer. GoddessA will know as soon as it happens, and has my authorization to post a temporary update as soon as becomes necessary.

Happy Mardi Gras/Ash Wednesday, y'all. Wish me luck.

Oi!

Dammit, life got on top of me. Again.

I try really hard not to go more than a week without updating, and I went fifteen days this time. Loyal Readership, mea maxima culpa.

The new job goes well. The nanny job goes not at all. Because I quit it. Y'all would have had a post a week and a bit ago about that, but since I received Dao, every time I get on here in high dudgeon, ready to completely rant out whatever hair is up my ass at the time, I get the rant ready to go, and the computer eats it. Now that I have eight days' closure on it, the rant was somewhat unnecessary, being the same rant that I had laid on Design School Homie and my Hindu teacher (the latter being the one who helped me quit, i.e. sat me down and forced me to admit that the situation had become more verbally and emotionally abusive than I could reasonably be expected to handle, and that, contrary to my perception, I was not "saving" the children from their Crazy Mommy, but teaching them that it is OK to treat people the way that she treated me while simultaneously reinforcing that one should take that kind of treatment lying down.) I miss my Little Buddy already, but I've brought him into meditation a time or two and he seems to be sad, but OK.

Being a bill collector is also OK. I'm not necessarily as into it as some of the collectors are; a lot of them seem to stay in the feral, balls-to-the-wall headspace even when they're not in the dialer, and that's not where I live. But it's a good place for now and it will open up some things, work-wise, that I might like better, such as medical billing.

Had word from the illustrious Dr. Spears for the first time in over a year this weekend, which filled my heart with savage joy; I may go and see him and Don Shiftador sometime within the next two weeks. I have missed Il Dottore more than I realized; when he left town without warning, I shut down the part of my heart where he lived because I gave him up for lost. All the Doctors and their affiliates tend to pop in and out of one another's lives exactly when needed, and I think I needed the Spears.

But nothing much is really going on...making tentative plans to go back to school, spending a lot of time dreading court and getting ready for PUF...I'm on staff this year, which is pretty exciting, to me at least. I have been working either for the collection agency or for myself pretty much all the time, averaging out ten hours a day, and I have a tendency to come home and stare blankly into space instead of doing important stuff, like letting you folks know what's going on.

If LadyA remembers to poke me about it, I will get my partial astrology chart up on our proto-Wide World of Divination site soonish. I thought for years that I couldn't have a chart done at all, because I don't have my exact time of birth. Turns out that, for my birthdate at least, the only thing that excludes is my ascendant sign; the rest of my planets were fairly firmly in their respective signs that day, so I have the best chart I can have for the time being. Interesting stuff, thanks in no small part to GoddessA and her Hubbie's help in interpreting the raw data.

Be well. I'll try to be less sporadic.

HTTP ERROR 403

All last night, that's what I got when I tried to go to my blog, ET's blog, GoddessA's blog, or Irina's blog. The RenReb's site was working OK, which was good. So was Richard's Midlife Crisis, which was...less than good.

This guy is still blogging (click if you want, but don't bother to comment; last week he still had his headline with the word spelled "happyness", but didn't allow the comment through that showed me correcting him.), and was still accessible. Irony. RenReb didn't have new content because it was Shabbat, and I would be happy if that guy never had any new content, ever again, because ew.

I went to my second Dao Ceremony today, bringing folks to receive, and we all had a good time, and I worked and made some money, and now I'm smoking cigarettes and drinking beer and ignoring the fact that I have a seven-forty-five AM wake-up call scheduled.

NOW sent me a new Keep Abortion Legal sticker, which was nice of them as the one on my car is almost dead. I'm going to send them the three bucks I have hanging around in cash to keep the favor, and wash the taste of That Guy's Blog out of my mouth.

In other good news, the long-awaited GBC XI is up. Read it here.

Basically it's been a good day. Here, for their comic value, the Minor Wrinkles:
* En route to Dao Ceremony, completely missing the exit to I-40 because of the ridonkulous construction, and having to rely entirely on the directions of the beautiful Bethums, which was fine, except...
* Ending up heading to Dao Ceremony by different route, and not having the written directions, being able to focus only on the road we needed being "New [Virtue] Natural Feature Road", subsequently realizing that we first had to turn onto [Direction]New [Virtue] Road once that road was safely behind us, and doing a three-point turn in the van in a church parking lot. (Clarification: I'm not going to ID the street, hence the brackets, but "Natural Feature" is verbatim; I didn't remember exactly what type of Natural Feature the builders of that subdivision had named the street after).
*Missing out on the chance to buy a lottery ticket when I had meant to do so. Maybe no one won the jackpot; I haven't checked and don't care enough to expend the tenth of an erg it would take to pick up the phone, so I'll just see if the jackpot amount is back down in the morning.
(note: no one did. Up to $210 million. So it didn't matter.)
*Coming home after a long and mostly beautiful day just to get revenge-pissed on by the EK when it was time for her meds...usually we wrap her in a towel for the actual process because, for one, she's got a UTI and the sporadic peeing is to be expected, and two, if we didn't we'd get sliced to ribbons and still not get the meds down her. As she's gotten more used to the process (although she still hides if she thinks it's meds time), I haven't had to be as careful about making sure her ass was actually inside the towel when I carried her to the bathroom to get drugged up, because the involuntary-peeing-when-lifted has basically stopped. But the little bitch looked me in the face and peed ALL OVER ME. She's mad about the meds and this is how she deals with it? Gives Mean Girls a whole new aspect.

But if a little pee and lost is the worst I have to deal with, how blessed I am. Have a good day, y'all.

Fuck You, I'm Drunk

If the Windows Media Player update hadn't totally fucked my ability to play any of the music stored on my computer, and if my CD burner would consent to actually burn a CD without crashing the entire goddamn noisy box, that is the Irish drinking song I'd be listening to right now.

I'm not actually drunk. I've had the better part of a Mike's Hard Lemonade and a really rough day, though, so the first part is accurate even if the second isn't.

Went to work today, my first real, counting-toward-quota day, which also happened to be a day when I take an hour lunch and sacrifice my breaks so I can go see my shrink. That part was good -- managed to time it perfectly so I wasn't even late getting back, even though the doctor was late seeing me. But working first five, and then the better part of three, hours without a chance to smoke a cigarette is not entirely conducive to my mental health. Nor was the TDOT choice to put up a sign announcing the closure of a major exit that not only didn't indicate the proper closure dates, but also was situated after the last possible turnoff. Reeeal smart. Now that they are working on the best Way Out of Town During Rush Hour at their customary leisurely pace, traffic is going to suck even more than it usually does for a while. I'm tempted to make some kind of "I shalt not leave town between five and six PM" vow, but I doubt I'd make it even a week with that restriction.

I had to fight the traffic instead of taking my usual "cut across a lot of small-to-major roads" path towards my own place, because after my Day Job is done, my Other Job(s) kick in. I went to the Boss' house to clean, which didn't get finished and will necessitate another trip. That part is OK, as he is supposed to help me design and build a kneeler for the shrine, which we couldn't do today as he had "religious programming" to watch (E-Ring, that show that comes on after it about FBI behavioral analysts, and the first twenty minutes of the Jon Stewart show) and we had to go over my accounts for January, anyway. It took me almost 2 hours to get there due to traffic bullshit and fast-food slowness, which sucked, but we ate KFC and watched TV and I did the light cleaning and for a while all was jolly, or at least full of grease'n'biscuits.

However, as the hour greweth late, the blue funk which has been threatening to settle for a few days decided that it had found its moment. The Boss tends to be my semi-avuncular figure in such matters; he combines compassion and logic in such a weird way that I can usually take him my problems in full confidence that I will come away, if not with resolution, at least with Things to Think About.

Periodically when I am full of discontent, the Boss ends up staying up with me, talking noise, until I am too tired to spew any more "Fuck this, fuck the cops, fuck this fucking fucker, it's fucked", having imparted some anecdotes and words of wisdom whenever he could get a word in edgewise, at which point I either crash out on his incredibly comfy futon or drive home. Tonight it had to be the latter option, as I should have been in bed at least two and probably three hours ago. I sang Ani DiFranco songs and most of the 30th anniversary version of Alice's Restaurant to keep myself awake.

Before I even put down my purse upon arriving back at the Parcepartment, the key turned in the lock, and it was the Artist and GoddessA, who had been calling me repeatedly on the land line for the 45 minutes I was on the road and had finally decided to come over and see what the hell was wrong with me, or barring that, if the roommates knew where I was and why I hadn't talked to anyone since seven when I had expected to be back in town by eleven. They stayed for a moment, then rolled out, but by the time I had locked them out, the furious desire for sleep that had been induced by the drive up Highway 109 and down I-40 had been banished, so I got a beer and decided to post an essentially content-free entry about what I did today. I was going to rehash my blue funk and the reasons why I was spewing obscenities earlier, but now that the mood has passed, it would be no more interesting than what you've already read.

Refer back to the title. I'm going to go to bed and hopefully wake up more human and less crabby.