A happy, beautiful birthday to my beloved Cassandra. I hope you have a wonderful day!

The problem with using my iPod as my alarm clock is that I invariably lay in bed under the (warm) covers and listen to the music instead of, you know, getting up.

Post from mobile portal m.livejournal.com

NaNo. About that.

Work was a bitch today. There's no nice way to put it. She's a whore, and she deserves to be ridiculed. Work, I mean. Not the person I'm pissed at.

I was out for two and a half days this week. Scheduled vacation half Monday and Tuesday, and sick yesterday. We're not discussing yesterday, cuz, well. We're not.

Got nothing but shit from some people. I got nothing done today, or I feel like I didn't.

And there's no jeans tomorrow.

And that's about it.

This is me avoiding the dentist.

Oh well.

Today was good. Didn't get as much done as I should have, but a nice relaxing day.

The sad part is having to go to work tomorrow - rest of the week.

And no casual day on Friday.

Damn board members.

Today is one of those "oh god I have so much crap to do" but I'm still sitting on my butt sort of days. Well, I suppose the day is over now, so I should say was. And yet-still more crap!

I left work at 12:15 today because I felt like it and we went grocery shopping. Sort of a stocking up trip, got some things that we don't need yet but have be wanting to get ahead on - bulk items, mostly.

Plus, I bought a pair of boots. This is my first pair of boots in probably close to 15 years. They make my feet look giant. It will have to be mighty crappy out for me to wear them.

Off of work tomorrow; first thing on the list is the dentist. Boo hiss. Then I'm stopping at my dad's (it's on the way) to do laundry (which I have yet to gather tonight. Surprise, surprise.) and drop off his cake. Also, get some puppy time in.

And then I'm coming back home and probably cleaning. I've let the place go to hell the last couple of weeks.

Did I mention I'm cooking for like 13 or 14 people for Thanksgiving. Meaning, I'm making a couple of dishes here and then we're trekking to my dad's - my family obviously won't fit at my place. And I'm still the hostess there. Lovely.

Tomorrow is the third anniversary of my mom's passing. I remember how much all of you were there for me and believe me when I tell you it's appreciated and loved. In case I don't get on in the next couple of days - thank you all, again. Much love.

My life? Is a comedy of errors.


Post from mobile portal m.livejournal.com

Fanatically fighting off H1N1, brb.

The last post was just an annoyance post. This post is a "daily" post. And by daily, I mean once a season.

Whoops.

Okay, so, since I've been a lazy ass about posting, I should have a lot to cover, right? HA.

First, I would like to say, is there anything awesomer than Alton Brown live? Maybe Alton Brown and Ted Allen live, together on stage. I.E. foodgeek's wet dream.

Anyway.

Same old, same old.  I managed to sufficiently clog my kitchen sink, so, that was awesome. It's been super cold here the last couple of weeks (cold for this time of year,) and intelligently, the maintenance department at my work decided this week was the best week to turn the heat off for boiler changes. Lovely. So I've been sitting at my desk in the outer layer of my Columbia coat, a hoodie, gloves, scarf and blanket for legs all week. It's been way fun. /sarcasm

Also, my bestest Ashy is coming out to visit this weekend and I'm so excited I might literally burst. So if you come visit, look for the pile of goo.

Also, username change coming up.

.
...because that's all I ever come here to do.

Moving on.

Okay. Maybe my idea of internet etiquette is misplaced, but let’s try this. I’ve been around these intertubes for near on 20 years (dear god, I’m old) and I’ve developed a few habits, and seen others develop the same habits, so I’m thinking I’m not wrong here.
 
This stems from an argument with the boy, so there might be much ridiculing of him in here. He’s aware.
 
Think of the interwebs as a giant room where lots of people mingle. Do you come into the room and wait for someone you know to acknowledge you? I don’t understand how this works. Do you expect your friends to be watching the door (i.e. their buddy list,) waiting for your arrival with baited breath? And if they never notice you standing at said door, you quietly leave without ever talking to them?
 
Why is the onus on your friend? They’re already here, they’re already partying. One would assume that they’re not waiting just to talk to you, so why would you assume they would notice as soon as you enter the room? Ignoring someone because you don’t want to interrupt is just rude, in my opinion, more rude than “interrupting” said person. Because unlike real life, you don’t actually physically interrupt someone.
 
And I have a friend who is an actual interrupter and some days it takes everything I have not to hit her in the head. Tangent: if you’re having a conversation with both, or more than two, people actively involved, that’s one thing and interrupting might be excused in that situation. But when I’m sitting here saying, “Yeah, I’ve been getting hives, I think I’m allergic to myself.” And you cut me off and say “ANYWAY, OUR BOSS IS REALLY HOT AMIRITE?” or whatever you were spewing = RUDE.
 
Just so you know.
 
Anyway.
 
When I sign into instant messenger, I talk to anywhere from 2 – 6 or 7 people, as well as have multiple browser windows and tabs, as well as my email, as well as twhirl or twitter.com, as well as Word. I’m a multi-tasker. I can do a lot and I can do it all at the same time.
 
To accomplish this, I must make a sacrifice. And that sacrifice is minimizing my buddy lists. Why? Because almost everyone I know IMs me when THEY sign on. If people are on when I sign on, then I IM them. I don’t expect them to know I’m there. I assume everyone minimizes like I do, because you DON’T need the buddy list open all the time.
 
So if you sign on and I don’t IM you, I’m not ignoring you. It does not mean I’m mad at you for being home late, K. It means I didn’t see you, pure and simple.
 
As far as I’m concerned, if we don’t talk, that onus is on you.
 
Never mind that you live here. This is the digital age, after all.

I sort of suck at LJ. And blogging in general. Woot. Okay, I'll give it a try.

I am house sitting for my dad. He had to travel for work this weekend - our branch office is finally moving back into their office, and he's down there to help set up the networking. He has a puppeh (the best puppeh in the land) so I came up to his house for the weekend to spend time with the puppeh. I do not mind this, because of his awesomeness, except for when he's not awesome. But he mostly is, so it's alright.

He also has this thing about sleeping in the bed with me. Which will be interesting once TB gets up here tonight, but at least it's a king size bed? Pups is still sleeping on his legs, though. Damn it.

Anyway. I also had to bring my two PITAs because the one eats special food and he other has a neurotic complex, so he can't be left alone for long periods of time or I'm afraid he will have a depressive episode and choke himself to death on kibbles. On purpose. So, they're up here, too.

So, one of my dad's cats, who is actually my cat and lived with me for a short time, before he decided he just couldn't handle it anymore and had to go back to dad's (he told me so,) no longer recognizes Neurotic, even though they lived together for four years, but he has no problems with the orange one who he's only known for two years. Because that makes sense. So poor Neurotic, who I brought up here to keep calm, is now being terrorized by a cat who could quite literally sit on him and crush his lungs.

This is how interesting my life is. Do you see why I don't post?

Other than that, I have done nothing. I watched Ted Kennedy's funeral and I'm sure I'll watch the DC processional tonight. I was a fan of his, and I'm sad that he's gone, but glad he's no longer suffering. I am a supporter of the Kennedys, so it's always sad to hear of another tragedy striking them (as they always seem to do.)

I'll do laundry later, so my hang-up clothes have time to try. Otherwise, just a nice, relaxing weekend (knock on wood.)

The weather is gorgeous. Mid-seventies, blue skies. I wouldn't mind it to be cloudy and gray, but after the rain (and flooding) we got earlier this week, sunshine is good. It's almost fall like. If it gets into the low 40s tonight like it's supposed to, some of the leave might start to change.

Fall is my favorite. I'm very excited for fall. There's nothing about fall I don't love.

Also: we made the cover of the New York Times. 14 months later. Better late than never, I guess.

this week, I love sharks!

A bit late coming, but as I've posted birthday wishes for you, shutterloubug , all over the internet, I felt I should here as well. I hope you had a beautiful, relaxing day, which you more than deserve. I love you very, very much! Happy birthday!

Mon préféré c'est le chocolat de français. Ce qui est bizarre parce que je n'aime pas les bonbons. Mais il n'y a rien comme le français de chocolat. Aussi, croissants. Et du café. Ce n'est pas le cas du café comme les Français. Il est tous les aliments. Oops.

Ok, so here's the scoop. I get a call yesterday (while I was dying, so I haven't called back yet) from the front office, saying they needed to talk to me about a letter a former resident (of our apartment) had received, that had been signed for, and yet, not left for said former resident, so please call us back asap.

Right, I'll get right on it.

Here's my problem with this: one) it's a secured building. Meaning, after 9 PM, there's two outside doors AND an inside door that's locked, that you have to get through to even get to the mailboxes/elevators. Two) since the flood, there's currently no buzzing system, so the only way you can let someone into the third door (say, a delivery person) is by calling the resident you're looking for (i.e., not me) and having them come down to meet you. Unless my uncle is the one who delivered the mail (even though he works for the post office in Chicago,) the mail person does not have my phone number. Three) and the office knows this, but I am (on a working day,) not home when the mail is delivered. Sometime around 1 or 2, I think. I have no idea. Because I am not here.

So now, apparently, they think I signed for a letter I didn't sign for. Which, if they investigate, they will see not my signature. And you can ask a couple people here, I have a very distinctive signature.

Another thing that bothers me about it is the person who called KNOWS I've given all mail of the former resident's that I've received. Ok, why are you delivering mail that's not addressed to the person whose name is on the mailbox? Hi, obviously they moved. Any mail that I've gotten in my mailbox NOT addressed to me, I have gone right to the office and handed it over. I don't want anything to do with it. Not my business.

Ok, so that's that.

Today, after I'd been home for about an hour, there's a knock on the door. I check, and it's my annoying-as-fuck neighbor, who can't speak English worth a damn and any English words he tries to utter are utterly incomprehensible because of the accent sorry for being racist. I say annoying as fuck because they're constantly slamming the door. I got up at 12 last night to slam mine a couple times and that seems to have cured them.

Anyway, he's standing there (I barely have the door open: I have cats) and quizzing me, third-degreeing me about mail. Did you receive something? Did you check your mailbox? Did you check today? Yes, I checked my mail about an hour ago. No, there was nothing for your friend (the former resident) in there. But are you sure? There's important documents. Did you receive them today?

FUCKER I ALREADY TOLD YOU.

Just on and on, around in circles. THEN. Then. He tells me he wants my phone number so his friend, in India, can call me and ask me. I said, what does your friend need to ask me that you can't tell him? I didn't receive anything. I understand it's important. If I receive it, I will give it to the office and your friend can make arrangements with them. Not my business, not my problem.

Yes, but he wants your phone number so he can call you.

WHAT THE FUCK FOR? I AM NOT THE POST OFFICE. I am not mailing anything to him. I am not shipping anything to him. Not my problem. It is HIS responsibility to take care of his mail which he OBVIOUSLY did not do. Not. My. Problem. The. End.

And he's all "well, you need to give me your phone number." And I said, and I quote, "Listen, buddy, I'm not giving my phone number and name to a stranger because your friend doesn't know how to handle his mail. I don't care that your friend has important documents, he should've made better arrangements if they were that important. I don't care if he hasn't received them. Again, not my problem. If they're that important, then he needs to call whatever business they're from and have them resent to the correct address. I'm not giving you my phone number, I'm not giving your friend my phone number, I'm not giving your dog my phone number. It's not happening, so stop asking."

And he says, yes, but my friend is in India. 

And I say, "what makes you think I care? His mail is not my problem and if you don't stop harrassing me about it, I'll be contacting the front office."

I'm so good at making new friends.

And that girl was Sari.

The end.

No really. My brain has been so dead lately. Completely not feeling like writing anything = me. I don't know what's up. Lull, I guess.

Until I can write again, I leave you with this cheerful thought:

Bonsoir! I probably had you fooled there for a minute, didn't I? Thinking I was going to start posting more.

Well, you're WRONG. Muahaha.

I could show you a page of my very full and very colorful planner, but I'm going to demand you believe me instead.

Happy Canada Day to my Canadianites! Er. Canadans. Canucks. Canadians. Whatever you call yourselves.

Those of you in America, well, happy early America Day! Because god knows I won't get my ass on the computer again for awhile.

Thems the shakes.

(No, really, I'll try and post tomorrow.)

Michael Joseph Jackson 08/28/1958 - 06/25/2009

Michael Jackson.

What can you say? He's arguably the most well-known person in the world. Who hasn't heard his name, hasn't heard at least one of his songs, doesn't know his life story?

"It was hard to love him, but hard not to." - Larry King

That sums up my feelings perfectly. I loved him as a kid. The Good Years. Bad and Thriller and Dangerous and HIStory. I can sit here and think of where I was when I listened to each of those albums, the first time I got them, watching his videos (remember "Black or White?" on VH1 during the summers.

On one hand, it was a complete surprise. He's only 50. He was working on a comeback tour. But on the other hand - rumors that he was unwell, the scandals that seemed to follow him everywhere.

I'm sort of discombobulated. But here's how I feel (and it's my blog, so nyah.): I'm shocked. Stunned. I loved him. Yeah, maybe he did bad stuff, maybe he didn't. I don't care. I've always liked him, I've always been a fan, I've always been a supporter.

But the truth of it is that he was a legend. He will never make a new video. Never produce or release a new album. Never go on that comeback tour.

It's sad, and I'm not ashamed to say I've teared up a bit, especially now that they're playing "We Are the World" on CNN. There's so much I could say, but I don't have the words right now.

Rest in Peace, Michael. You're loved.

I was about to type something completely inappropriate and involving the N word here, but aren't we glad I stopped me?

I haven't "blogged" yet, even though I promised to immediately post-test because, well, quite frankly, I'm lazy. And I re-found Stuff White People Like, which, also quite frankly, is more interesting than you.

There, now that I got that off my chest. Well, well. What's been up? (It's like I'm talking to myself.)

Let's do a list of completely unrelated things! Everyone loves those!

*June 1: Finally found an apartment, signed the lease and gave my landlord both my firstborn and secondborn for the deposit and first month's rent. Wondering how many tricks I will have to turn to remain in my apartment more than a month. The Boy also moved. He is also turning tricks.

*June 4: Broke down and bough the Sims 3. Kept it in my car until...

*June 5: Friday, where I declared myself over-studied and took a break making Sims that looked like Death Note characters, celebrities and Boys I Like.

*June 6: Studied.

*June 7: Cried. Gave up studying. Started revamping my resume, after assuring myself  I would be fired the next day.

*June 8: Test day. Passed. Went home, played Sims 3.

*June 9 - 12: Scrambled to finish packing and moving over the small things. Did so. (Barely.)

*June 13: Big move day. We had the old place emptied, truck packed, truck driven to the new place and unloaded within 3.5 hours. My dad and I?  Ninja movers. It's been proven.

*June 14: I ain't did shit. Y'all, I was tired. I had a very stressful first-two-weeks of June.

*June 15 - now: Finished (mostly) unpacking, had a minor electricity catastrophe (wherein my apartment tried to kill me - news at 11!,) discovered vile, putrid, disgusting things known as "banana ice pops" and generally engaged in some all-around tomfoolery.

Pretty much, life is kicking ass right now. You can bet your pretty little asses I'm knocking on all sorts of wood right now. As I type. One, I'm superstitious and two, I'm talented.

Coming shortly: a post about the one year anniversary of the Flood. Yes, I know. Old news and annoying, but it was epic and important to me, so just freaking deal, alright? Geez. And a post about my epic (this is my word today) adventures frolicking through Craigslist.

from: leblogdesari