2005-01-14
A Healthy Dose of Blah-blah-blah
Ahhhh, two hours of unadulterated DiaryLand time.
So much time, and so little of interest to say.
I'm sitting on the OLD console so that my staff (heretofor referred to as "my spuds") can learn the NEW console system. Since I am basically LD and will need lots of hands on training I thought I'd allow the truly talented to get the "real" training. 'Sides, I learn better "hands on", which in Console World translates into "transferring people to Pluto several hundred times before finally 'getting it'".
"One moment please while I disconnect you!" I say cheerfully.
I'm very busy and important.
It's Friday Friday FRIDAY which means several things: (1) we went skating at lunch time (Judd, I'da done you proud -- I have the hockey stop down to a fine art. I haven't quite achieved the title of Complete Hockey Wannabe Skating Asshole because I can't spray people in the face with ice yet, but I'm close. My triple salchow-1/2 flip-lutz/flying camel is still a little shaky, but... dammit, I can stop on a dime!); (2) because HB, the wonder husband, is off to Florida looking at investment property, I have the house, the DVD remote, and all the wine IN the house to myself (I predict a showerless, tooth-brushing-less weekend in my favorite PJ bottoms, writing drunken DL messages); and (3) the most pressing thing on my To Do list is to tan every day and return and rent more movies. YAY ME!
What I'm listening to: James Taylor's Greatest Hits. Why will I never tire of this CD? What's that? Because I'm old? Feh. What do YOU know.
**************************** No, I can't give you a ride **********************
The front passenger seat of my car is my purse. Within seconds of me getting into the car it is filled with "things" -- altoids, lighters, gum, cell phone charger, "blue stuff" for my lips, CDs, CD covers, empty McDonalds drink cups, Clinique samples of Happy, 1/2 pint of Bushmells, crack pipe,... (oops! Not really.), etc.
What tends to collect within reach is usually stuff I DON'T need. The stuff I REALLY need, like my cell phone or cigarettes, quickly find their way under the seat of the passenger seat -- juuuuuust barely out of reach. That doesn't stop me from trying to find them while hurtling down the highway at 80 mph, though! No sireebob! I am tenacious if nothing else.
I converted to a smaller purse some time ago because I got tired of having huge, cavernous sacks which would accumulate all of the above and MORE and in which I would constantly be rooting around like a Morel pig for HOURS just trying to find my "Goddamn keys" and instead coming up with something Monty Hall would have given me $500 for on "The Price Is Right". Like a grapefruit spoon. Or the original 1953 45 of Kirby Stone Four's "Baubles, Bangles, and Beads".
So now I have a purse which ONLY holds a pack of cigarettes, my cell phone, and a box of Altoids. All very snug, cozy, each item in it's place; a place for each item. (Because it has a clever side pocket for cash -- of which I never have any anyway -- and credit cards, I don't need a wallet.)
(Okay, right. The mere fact that it has a built-in wallet gives it away as something one would find at, say, Target as opposed to, say, Prada, and that's OKAY with me because I believe true style comes from withIN, so shut UP. Remember, this from the chick who still wears Moon boots. And admits to it.)
SO! The moral of the story is that buying a smaller purse does not mean that you won't still end up with some sort of a Junk Duffel Bag, even if it is your passenger seat.
************************* buh BYE Christmas *******************************
We finally took down our tree last night and that bitch was ready for the Christmas Tree graveyard, I'll tell you. Had a complete meltdown as I took off the lights and by the end of it ALL of the needles -- I mean every single 2,456 of those little bastards -- were on the floor. I know because I counted. Because we (read: me) have to pick them up by hand. Because we (read: HB) doesn't want to hurt the vacuum cleaner. That's not entirely fair -- once I removed the large, baseball-sized branches we were able to use the vacuum cleaner, but it required several vacuum stomach pumping procedures. Perhaps HB is right.... but don't tell him.
I'm beginning to nod off just reading what I've written, so I need to find something stimulating to do... like read OTHER people's entries.
*Y-A-W-N*
xquzme at sometime today