Monday, September 25, 2006

Who Are You (To Try & Tell Me)

Argh, I hate these things. But I love them as a timewaster, and my neck is fucking killing me, so in lieu of a creative blog entry today, a Stupid Survey I Stole off Myspace...

Elizabeth, Parce, Miss Moet, (Pope the) Empress (I).
Birthday: 16 August, 1980
Birthplace: Nashville, TN
Current Location: my office, goofing off
Eye Color: blue-green
Hair Color: brown
Height: 5 feet nine inches
Right Handed or Left Handed? right to write, left to reach for stuff
Your Heritage: white people of some kind, can't get more specific
The Shoes You Wore Today: my sensible librarian feels a bit wicked witchy everyday work shoes.
Your Weakness: Artists, kittens, bullets
Your Fears: Amphibians, falling down, losing the love and respect of those I care about
Your Perfect Pizza: one like the Artist makes me at 4 am...all the cheeses in the fridge plus fajita chicken and maybe some pepperonis...and since this is an Ideal, how about some jerk seasoning on the chicken?
Goal You Would Like To Achieve This Year: straight A's
Your Most Overused Phrase On IM? wtf????
Thoughts First Waking Up? "Stop it, cat!"
Your Best Physical Feature? My opinion, or the breasts?
Your Bedtime? When I'm sleepy, by two, period.
Your Most Missed Memory? Randy singing songs withmy name in them after the rain stopped.
Pepsi or Coke? which one is on sale in cans?
McDonalds or Burger King? BK, if the rest of the fifty-jillion other options aren't dotting the landscape.
Single or Group Dates? Dates? I like figs myself, and raisins.
Lipton Ice Tea or Nestea? try loose jasmine
Chocolate or Vanilla? both. And then, something salty.
Cappuccino or Coffee? bleech! Choco-covered espresso beans in a keep-awake pinch.
Do you smoke? "I'se supposeda stop, but I cain't."
Do you swear? When not functioning in my professional capacity? Perhaps a bit overmuch.
Do you sing? When called upon.
Do you shower daily? Unless I'm taking a bath, weirdo.
Have you been in love? Yes.
Do you want to go to college? Generally yes, but today I'd cut if it wouldn't risk DOOOM...
Do you want to get married? Very maybe.
Do you believe in yourself? I'm pretty sure I didn't imagine myself up. But never certain.
Do you get motion sickness? Not often.
Do you think you are attractive? Less often than I claim to.
Are you a Health Freak? In the sense that people talking to me about my health freaks me the fuck out and makes me want to hit them with sticks until they admit that non-smokers and vegetarians die too, yes.
Do you get along with your parents? Most of the time.
Do you like thunderstorms? Baby, I love thunderstorms.
Do you play an instrument? Not really. I drum a lil and play with my flute.
In the past month have you drank alcohol? Hells yes! We found 70 proof vanilla rum!
In the past month have you smoked? Yes.
In the past month have you been on Drugs? Take the fifth.
In the past month have you gone on a date? Nope.
In the past month have you gone to a mall? Hell NOES!
In the past month have you eaten a box of Oreos? Ew.
In the past month have you eaten sushi? No.
In the past month have you been on stage? Yes, I sing for my punch at LSP.
In the past month have you been dumped? No, but I have been stood up.
In the past month have you gone skinny dipping? Too!
In the past month have you stolen anything? We prefer the term "misappropriate."
Ever been drunk? Oh yes oh yes.
Ever been called a tease? Yes.
Ever been beaten up? Not since childhood.
Ever shoplifted? Nope.
How do you want to die? Heroically saving my family from a burning shipwreck....when I say and not a second sooner.
What do you want to be when you grow up? Tish.
What country would you most like to visit? Strongbadia.

Best Clothing Style: hot hippie librarian
Number of drugs I have taken: I wasn't keeping score
Number of CDs I own: bunches
Number of piercings: eight
Number of Tattoos: seven
Number of things in my past I regret: Non, je ne regrette rien.

Friday, September 22, 2006

Little Green Blobs of Love

Well, "love" isn't the right word. More like "blistering, festering hate". I hate upper respiratory infections.

I have my Fall Funk. This episode of FF has involved relatively little suffering, thanks in no small part to the Artist, who has plied me with vanilla rum for my pain. Since I'm of the firm opinion that he gave it to me while I was plying his version of it with whiskey last week, that's not as selfless and altruistic as it might appear, but I'm thankful anyway. Here in a few minutes I'll go into the kitchen and have some more delightful off-brand DayQuil.

In other news, been making out like a bandit on eBay buying new work clothes, headed off to AppleOak this weekend for the teaching of Guedra despite lingering cough and general funk, and a very new kitten is coming home to live with me. Hurray!

Not too much more on which to ruminate...up to 548 books on LibraryThing as of last night, totally not packed to leave yet, very much in the mood for a breakfast which does not appear to be materializing. I'll talk to you later.

Friday, September 15, 2006

It's What I Got (I Said, Remember That)

You know those science-fiction stories/Twilight Zone episodes? I think the story I'm thinking of is Mars is Heaven, by Ray Bradbury....everyone goes to Mars, but on Mars is a place just like home, where your old dog never died and your childhood sweetheart is married to you, and as soon as you relax the tentacled aliens come and eat you? Or the Stephen King variant, Rock n Roll Heaven, where all the dead rock stars are the evil oligarchs of a little town you only find by getting lost?

I think that the tentacled rock stars are going to come out of the woodwork any time, because work? Is heaven.

People are nice to me. They consider me competent. They aren't constantly checking up on me to see if I'm doing what's right. They offer instruction instead of criticism. Most of them have known me since I was a kid, and while that gets mildly annoying, it's a heavenly sort of annoyance. They let me show them how to find things on their computers and do things with their software. They pick me up lunch.

I have my own office. It's kind of blank and uninteresting at this stage of the operation, but I have it. I think next week I'm going to bring in my Van Gogh and hang it up to relieve the white wall.

My dad is his usual grumpy self, stomping around and being satisfied with his own level of competence and dissatisfied with everyone else's, but I learned how to deal with that from the time I was fifteen onward. It's not the MOST intellectually stimulating thing ever: file, do mail, answer phone, type, file, do mail, skip trace someone, file, show S. how to clean out her cache, walk to the courthouse, drive to the federal courthouse, lather, rinse, repeat, with plenty of sneaking cigarettes and blatant misuse of the Internet. Work is always going to be something to be avoided when possible (like, for instance, right now), but work that doesn't make you feel cheap, degraded, incompetent, or just plain stupid? This must be Mars, because it's utterly alien.

School is good: civil trial is boring and my teacher is a dick, general law is interesting and my teacher is hilarious, wills and trusts is interesting when the material isn't already two-strikesing it. Paralegal studies only lasts an hour and a half once a week, but I like it.

The house is lovely, the cats are lolling around like they think this is Egypt 5000 years ago, plans for the Bizarre Bazaar continue apace, I've catalogued 375 of my books on LibraryThing thus far, and my main complaint in life is having to find shirts that cover my bicep tattoos. I'm going to teach Guedra at AppleOak next weekend at their request. I am going places with folks to see and things to do, and I have a sneaking suspicion that I have become popular, despite all my youthful protests as to the impossibility of such an occurrence.

Plus, I'm getting my septum re-stretched tonight, thank you, Kevin. And I got a magical piece of paper from the court yesterday, telling me my charges are dismissed and expunged...or, as N.W.A. famously opined, "Fuck tha police." I win, they lose, the world goes round and round and round and the world goes round and round.

Life's pretty good. I'll check back when I can. Mars is great, wish you were here.