Welcome back from Coma Land

It's hot this week, boo to that.

Pepé has actually been snubbing me once in awhile... my mom thinks cause I leave everyday for work. Well, if I didn't work, I couldn't have gotten that doggy staircase from Harriet Carter now could I?

On a related note (that is to say, the purchase of things I can't afford), I've been considering getting a Netflix account. You know, because I don't spend enough time in front of the TV. I figure if I rope my parents and brother into it, the actual cost would be pretty low. And they would whine if I didn't include them. "How come you're always getting movies?" Bleh.

Yesterday my parents car was in the shop (some dumb expensive thing) and so my dad went along on my ride to work, took the car back to good old B-town, and then they picked me up. How embarrassing, not to mention dangerous, considering the way my dad drives. We went to this store, I forget the name - Food Outlet? Grocery Outlet? Some kind of outlet that sold food, not to mention groceries. Hee. My mom and I had some amusing times in the cereal aisle, looking at all the generic ones. I so want to buy Crispy Hexagons. I definitely do not want to buy Spam Spread... yugh. In any case, they got the car back right after we got home, so I was able to drive myself today, yay.

Today was actually pretty neat, I did call screening for a pre-recorded show. And it was even easier than it would be normally, because we had a list of people that I called, and then they talked, and so on. Hey, that's two hours I don't have to pretend to be working on stupid stuff. And we went out for lunch at Perko's, and for some reason had all these morbid conversations about sickness and dying and all. DD and I both agreed we'd rather be in surprise freak accidents than survive till RH's bleak prediction of, as he put it, "pooping into a bag all day long." Yeah, that's not proper lunch convo at all.

Tomorrow I have to call 239043 people (okay, 30-ish) and tell them to fill out a form. How about I don't want to? How about, that's why we set up the new system to send them e-mail reminders? Yeah, I know they don't read those anymore than I read the "Learn how to please her!!" ones, but that's beside the point.

Hey, I was looking through my webstats, and two people have added me onto their favorites this month. Pretty impressive, considering I was gone for like two weeks.

Last night was the second episode of the second season of "Rescue Me", which I was too tired to stay up for, and taped. I learned how to not be a dumbass and figured out how to record without keeping the TV on (it's a TV-DVD-VCR combo). Did I blog about the return of Denis Leary and his firefighter pals? I don't believe I did. My thoughts? Brilliant. One of the best episodes I've ever seen of any show, and not just because it had hot guys galore.

I'd say I'd love it if every TV show was as challenging and entertaining, but then I'd seriously never stop watching. A lot of people talk shit about TV, even (if not especially) the ones who watch a lot of it, but there really are a lot of quality shows out there. Major props to FX, HBO, and USA for smart and provocative programming. God, could I sound any more like I'm pimping television?

Here's an anecdote that is semi-related, and semi-amusing, but does little in demonstrating my maturity. Today my boss was talking about how "Seinfeld" was the greatest show ever, and that he didn't get why people love "Curb Your Enthusiasm." I know for a fact that "Seinfeld" is boring and CYE is at least kinda amusing. I then related a story to my boss about the episode where Larry (I think?) went to the movies with his wife's best friend, and he had bought these new pants that made him look like he had a boner whenever he sat down, and so of course the friend thinks he got a boner over her and it turned into this big thing (no pun intended). And while telling this story to my boss, I actually used the word "boner."

I would normally be (more) embarrassed at this, but the guys at work have never deferred to political correctness while talking. You know, none of that dumbass "There's a lady present" crap. I've found out that you miss a lot of funny, good stuff when people think they have to behave themselves. I'd rather be offended than be shielded.

Okay, I've got to wash dishes, and then I'm going to type up my new pages for "Good Girls", I swear. No excuses, there's nothing good on TV tonight, and no use in kidding myself that I'm going to exercise or do anything else very useful.

Stop picking me up when I wanna be down

This is undoubtedly way TMI, but I have to pee. And I would, but my toilet is doing this weird thing. You know when you flush and the sound it makes when filling back up with water? It's doing that... non-stop... not overflowing, but while it's doing that I can't flush it. I could go upstairs to one of the two other bathrooms, but what can I say - I'm territorial. Luckily my dad is out getting stuff to fix it right now.

Don't really have much to blog, but I thought I should check in anyway. What I should be doing is typing up some pages from ATGG I wrote this last week and the one before. Instead I'm surfing the web and half watching the "Law and Order SVU" marathon. Right now they're showing one of the two or three episodes based on Michael Jackson's various escapades. Yuck.

Speaking of freaky creatures, yesterday "It" was on USA. Though I've never had a clown phobia, that movie scared me when I was younger. Now, I've seen it so many times that it's just funny, especially the part where John Ritter thinks he's making out with Annette O'Toole, then looks in the mirror and sees she's wearing clown gloves, pants, and he has white and red facepaint on his skin. He pulls away and it's none other than Pennywise the Clown (Tim Curry), who says, delighted, "Kiss me, fat boy!" I always lose it completely at that point.

The only other clown that ever gave me the willies was the infamous "Zeebo" on a really great episode of Nickelodeon's "Are You Afraid of the Dark?" That was the most awesome show ever, I was so pissed when they ended it. I remember they came back some years later with a few more episodes or a minseries, but they sucked. I don't care how poor I am, when those come out on DVD, I'm buying them all. My fave storytellers were Gary, the nerdy guy with glasses, and Kiki (I think?), the badass girl.

But yeah, I've never really had issues with clowns. I always loved getting my face painted by them at carnivals when I was young and had good skin (hey, maybe all that face painting is why I have bad skin now. That's a joke, it's actually looked fairly well lately. Yay for my new honey-jojoba scrub). My fears were/are more along the lines of:

- Dolls. I don't have a general fear of dolls, but some specifically I do. Kewpie dolls are the biggest offenders - what the hell are they looking off to the side for, anyway? Shifty-ass dolls. And I'm really embarrassed to admit that I used to be deadly afraid of Chucky, of "Child's Play" fame. I can watch all the movies now and laugh my ass off, but I would be lying if I said I don't still have occasional bad dreams about him.

- Mirrors. You'll never, ever, find me chanting Bloody Mary or Candyman or whoever. Hey, just to be on the safe side, I never say my own name more than four times in a row. In any case, my issues with mirrors go beyond with slumber party parlor games, though I couldn't explain why. I try to avoid staring into them for any length of time, and almost refuse to look at them in the dark. I'm the most irrational wuss ever.

- Rollercoasters. Come on, you know they're scary! I always liked those huge yellow slides, though.

- Any bugs, insects, spiders, etc. But who isn't freaked out by crawlies? I don't have a seizure if I seen ant or a little-ish thing, but on the thankfully rare occasions I see a roach, I have the sudden urge to leave the country.

- I really hate movies where there's decapitations, cutting off of limbs, etc. I'm not down with stabbings and swords at all, and get annoyed when my dad watches those like samurai things... dudes with swords and such. Can't they just use guns if they're going to kill each other? Maybe this is just my American naiveté, but shooting seems so less violent. At the very least, there's not as much blood, unless it's some hogmongous one that has fist-sized bullets.

I'd also like to note that the last paragraph is in no way an approval of guns. Guns suck, and the people who like to have them around aren't quite right. Hunting (for sport, as opposed to food) is barbaric, and if you're not killing animals, the only other thing to do with guns is kill people.

All my friends on loan

Okay, so I am going to blog tonight after all. I find that the older I get, the less I need to get scared by ghost stories and scary movies and the like.

If you are insanely curious as to why TYG was gone for awhile, I'll get it over with quick: My domain expired, and my hosting company didn't give me a heads up, so, there you go. I was (im)patient like a good (bad) girl and finally have it back! Yay and such.

What's been up in my world:

- I finally bought some more RAM for my computer. Now its got like 384 MB, which is not a lot but better than 128 already. No speed demon, mind you, but I can now use more than one program at a time without it freaking out. Here's to seven more weeks of waiting for the $20 mail in rebate!

- My boss(es) have been hella gone from work. One of them in Europe for the last couple weeks, and the other just last week - but he got sick on the way back so he was mostly out this week. I don't know how well I faked work to convince the guy in the next cubicle, but whatev. Is it wrong that I used probably no less than two hours of my time at work this week to look for another job?

I actually called this guy about a receptionist job in a funeral home (how "Six Feet Under" of me) and had an amusing converstaion. Turns out that the Contra Costa Times got his ad all wrong and REFUSED to change it. According to funeral home guy, the ad was supposed to note that knowledge of how to type a death certificate was necessary, as well as speaking Spanish. Well, I'm oh-for-two on that.

One reason for me to leave this job if I get another offer - pests. Apparently we have had some mice/rat/whatever problems. Ew! It made me paranoid and I had to bring my snacks I was keeping in my desk back home. Call me a snob, but I'm not down with gross animals in my working environment. While there were several other reasons for leaving my private school office job last year, one of the clinchers definitely had to be the habitation, and accidental freeing of, "pet" cockroaches. Ugh.

- Last night, went shopping with JH and convinced her to buy lots of things. Hee hee. I wish I had cute, non-hogmongous feet. I was naughty and got lipstick at Target, though I did manage to restrain myself from purchasing stuff at Mervyn's. I totally punked JH and purchased the doughnuts for us & LS at Krispy Kreme. Following the fatness, LS and I went onto see "Batman Begins." I'm not crazy about superheroes, but I'll watch Christian Bale do anything, even kiss Katie Holmes, ew. It was a pretty neat movie, actually. I so want a Batmobile, though I believe I'd try to avoid wanton destruction of police cars.

- With nothing else to do - or rather, nothing else I wanted to do - at work, I actually spent some time writing. Counting tomorrow, I have 37 days to finish "Good Girls", according to my Must-finish-by-July-31-or-explode deadline. Now that I am working regularly, I've realized that I really don't like to work. Bleh.

The other day this guy at work asked me what I wanted to do, career goals and all that, and I actually admitted that I want to be a writer. That's something I barely talk about with the people I know and love, let alone so-so officemates. Just kidding, he's cool.

Though I should have corrected myself: I already am a writer; I meant that I wanted to be a published, respected, acclaimed, writer. Hell, I'll settle for published, disrespected, and... unacclaimed? That's not a real word, is it? So much for literacy.

Now, for current events not directly involving me:

- Wacko Jacko is found not guilty on counts of molesting a kid, offering "Jesus Juice", and various other counts. I have a very short comment on this: What. the. HELL? Couldn't the jury have gotten him at on at least one little count to placate the masses? Slap on the wrist? Sigh.

- Every pit bull in the Bay area apparently goes crazy and mauls kids. San Francisco mayor Gavin Newsom (dreamy sigh!) says something about it, but I'm too busy looking at his hair to listen.

- A few earthquakes and a quickly-cancelled tsunami warning further weaken the constitutions of the less-hearty Californians among us. If ya can't take the shake, get out of the state. Hey, I think I've found our new motto!

- Approval ratings for "President" Bush and Governor Arnold "Girlie Man" Schwarzenegger plummet. (Insert Simpson's "whomp-whomp" sound effect here)

Enough insulting public figures tonight; right now it's off to "Whose Line" and, literally, a tall drink of water.

For a minute there I lost myself

Okay, if you are one of the estimated 2.5 people that reads my blog, and discovered that I was not here in the last two weeks... I'M BACK! Yay! Rejoice! Etc.

I'm going to do a big update tomorrow, promise, but right now I am going to be a dumbass and read ghost stories.

Tell me a story that ends with a gunshot

I'm officially a slacker: I'm blogging from work. Well, is it my fault that the server is down and I don't have access to:

- My e-mail
- 95% of my files
- Printers

Though admittedly, I probably still wouldn't be doing much if it was up. I could've probably even stayed home but they want me in the office, and so here I am. I'll undoubtedly leave even earlier than usual, though, and hit up the annual sale at Bath and Bodyworks. I should stay away from that store, especially since I've got to sign up for classes on Monday. Admittedly, it will only be one class... I guess I've finally decided to take Intro to Criminal Justice. I actually had a dream about it last night!

It was the beginning of the semester, and the school was somewhere weird. It was the middle of the day and I meet this girl who is also a writer, and taking the class because she thinks it will help her skills. I get all excited and mention the Criminal Law class, but she is not really interested in talking to me. LS, JH and maybe even PD were there too. The seats were all weird, these benches sized for like one person each so we all grabbed one. I was snacking on raisins. The teacher was really cool but was smoking (a pipe?) all throughout class and so we kept the door open for fresh air. Me = odd.

I also had this disturbing dream that I got into a serious fight with my sister. At the end of it (the fight and the dream) she was starting to pull off my eyelashes. It didn't really hurt, but I knew it should have, so I was screaming. Duh...

We had duck from Three Brothers on Wednesday... SO GOOD. I want to learn how to make those little bready things, whatever they are anyway.

Ah crap, the server is back up. Does that mean it's back to "work" for me? Probably not.

OOH! I also had this dream that "Degrassi: TNG" had been cancelled, and I was really pissed off because they just decided to never show the next episodes. I have way too many issues.

This post is really boring, I should just delete it. If you're reading this, it's because I can't stand to part with something stupid it took me fifteen minutes to write.

Can someone please explain the reason for this strange behavior

Argh, I really don't feel like blogging (no offense to you 2 readers out there), but I'm forcing myself. I don't really know what else I could or would be doing, but still. If only I could invent a psychically powered typewriter (computer, in this case) a la Bobbi in "The Tommyknockers." I could write entire novels (as if) while sitting in front of the TV, eyes glazed over, watching whatever new terrible reality show FOX has come up with.

I was on a Christian Bale site awhile ago (I'm really in a picture-hunting mood today aren't I) and now I want to watch "American Psycho." Note to USA; play it immediately, and please to show Mr. Bale's bum.

More (or at least not less) importantly, I feel like reading the book. I read AP just about once a year, as less would be dumb, and more would be punishment. Not an easy book to read, but pure brilliance. Geez, I can't wait until Bret Easton Ellis' new one comes out, in just a few months now. I've only been waiting... what, four or five years? I started reading his books in 2000 or 2001, and quickly ran out.

As regarding the reading "American Psycho" once a year thing... I realize I actually do that with a lot of books. Observe:

- Jacqueline Susann's "Valley of the Dolls" - I always read it at Christmas time. Because, you know, novels about three girlfriends being rich and famous and drug-addicted is quality holiday fare.
- Bret Easton Ellis' "Less Than Zero" - The best book ever, which I read also at Christmas and then again in the summer.
- William Peter Blatty's "The Exorcist" and Jay Anson's "Amityville Horror" is a Halloween tradition, though I just recently read AH because the movie came out.
- Stephen King's "The Dead Zone" is a favorite in the fall.
- Alice Walker's "The Color Purple" in the summer.
- VC Andrews' "Flowers in the Attic", at no particular time, immediately followed by "Garden of Shadows", the prequel to FitA.
- Chuck Palahniuk's "Survivor", any time.
- Thomas Harris' Hannibal trio - "Red Dragon", "Silence of the Lambs", and "Hannibal", any time, but always in that exact order.

Enough nerdiness? You better hope so.

This last weekend with my godmother was awesome. Saturday we went around to a million places where she and my mom bought quilts and quilt-related accessories. We stopped by the mall at this neat cactus "show" where they got, eerily enough, cactus, while I guiltily purchased daiquiri lotion (drool!) and a Tutti Dolci raspberry granita lip gloss from Bath and Bodyworks. Dinner was at Romano's, which is still the best ever. Note to city council: I want one I can drive to, dammit!

Sunday we had breakfast at Perko's, yum, and then went to this really neat flea market. I so wish I had taken more cash. There was a lot of junk but some stuff I would have loved to buy. I got a couple of lip glosses (you know, the one cheap, shiny brand that rules) and some really neat pendants - St. Dymphna, St. Jude, hmm... a couple of others I forget, and this one neat heart one with a tiny pink cross and has the initials "EGH" on it. I don't know if that's something religious or just someone's initials... well it's mine now, yoink!

Sunday night was the second season premiere of "The 4400"... and I still haven't caught up on the first one, but that's USA's fault. It was pretty good, though. That was also the night "Entourage" started but I forgot... must remember to watch that.

"Six Feet Under" was last night; saddest episode ever. I read some reviews where people complained about it, but fuck those critics. I can't think of the last TV show that invoked so much emotion in me. Wait, yes I can; and it wasn't TV, it was HBO. So there.

In the world of less-sad, more-hilarious TV, my mom and I have taken to watching "Hell's Kitchen", where British chef Somename-Ramsey yells at stupid, shiftless American chef-wannabes while they fail miserably in their attempts to properly clean squid. Genius. It's part of what I think of as the new British invasion. It started with Simon Cowell on "American Idol", continued with those ladies who wear heels while cleaning American filth on "How Clean is Your House?", evolved into the uptight nannines on whichever nanny show that is on FOX, and now Chef Ramsey who last week referred to two blonde diners as bimbos. Duh!

Ooh la la

I just tried to look at this one Julian McMahon website, and it came up with a "Bandwidth Exceeded" error. DUH.

Dammit, I was going to do a real blog but Judge Judy is going to start... and also there's something in my right eye, ow.

I'll only fade away, and I hate to fade alone

Another updated-early edition, but my mom and I are going to go visit my godmother this weekend... yay visiting, and yay (hopefully) Romano's. Drool. Note to self: Marry into Italian family. Hee.

Not much new to report. Monday afternoon I stopped by LMC to get the form dealy so I could take Creative Writing again. I actually had to take it to the dean myself to get it signed... Don't these people know who I am? Just kidding... I am lazy, though. I took it, got it signed, and at Admissions they say I can't turn it in until I register because there's no way for them to save that info on the computer. That would mean going back in a couple of weeks, and standing in line when there's going to be a line. Um, as if... So I probably won't take CW after all, but something else I can go ahead and sign up for online. And likely at the "campus" out here so I won't have to dig up more money for a parking permit. I'm so cheap.

Especially considering I spent super money this week, buying a doggy staircase from Harriet Carter. Poor Pepé... he can't help it that his legs are little. All I know is he better use the damn thing. I also got something for my dad for Father's Day... about half of the entire present, I should say. Now if only I could figure out what to get for the other half, I'd really be ahead of the game.

My computer-bad-luck-ness rubbed off at work yesterday and today, with the printers being down yesterday, and like the entire server being off most of today. Figures I'd save all my stuff to the server, thinking it's so convenient to be able to get to it from any computer; or, as in today's case, from not one of them. Luckily I had printed out the labels for this weeks show before it died totally.

Though I actually like it (gasp!), I'm still pretty uncertain about my job. Some time ago (probably in March but possibly February or April), I noted that I'd put in an application for an office job at a family business who was just preparing to move their office much closer to home (my home, that is). Nothing ever came of it, and I thought, "Oh, well" and then got into my current thing, and forgot. I guess they got behind schedule some but they "really are" going to be moving now, late this month or in July, and are, I guess, still looking for an office person.

As much as it will make me feel disloyal to my current company, I'm going to call the family place Monday morning and see what's up, whether I need to re-send or take my info, try to set up an interview, blah blah blah. Seeing as how any job I'm employable for is about equal in my enjoyment of it (not much), this one would be slightly better, as I could literally walk there, and Buddha knows the pay couldn't possibly be much less than what I make now.

I feel guilty, though, cause everyone where I works now actually considers me likeable and helpful. And I don't see myeslf that way at all, at least not in this context. I don't do the stuff I do, or any of the extras, to be nice; I do it because it's just my job and it has to be done. I don't hate any of it (except for calling dumbass people), but I don't really enjoy it, either, and so I feel bad about getting praised for it.

Blah, blah, blah. If you hate the way I complain, here's a story you'll probably like. A tree tried to kill me today, for serious. I went to the bank on my lunch break to make a deposit (for myself, not for work) and parked in the back of the lot. I'm walking up to where the ATM's are, and this tree branch straight up falls out of the tree just two feet ahead of me. It wasn't huge; maybe two, three feet long, and a few inches thick, but if it had been on my head, it would have hurt. Nature, what did I ever do to you? Besides wasting massive amounts of paper that is... d'oh...

We're going fairly earlyish tomorrow, and I should go to sleep, but I'm going to play some Spider Solitaire... just one game, promise!