Thursday, September 30, 2004
In other news, do you automatically die when your feet melt and your legs fall off, because that's pretty much what I think is going to happen soon. Jesus. Working for a living. Totally overrated.
P.S. I ran into my manager about 10 minutes after I clocked out today, in the grocery store. She was buying groceries for tomorrow and I was buying 18 LoneStar tallboys in a big fucking hurry. Hurray for job security!
Monday, September 27, 2004
I had to sign a confidentiality agreement today saying I wouldn't give away any proprietary information about their customers or vendors or procedures or organization, so I guess any work-related blogging will have to be maddeningly vague. Maddening to me, anyway. I've worked in retail a looooong time and I know how to bitch about work without telling tales out of school, but it's kind of funny to have this paper I signed hanging over my head.
Friday, September 24, 2004
It's called Shunga! It even sounds dirty. Even really famous wonderful woodblock artists like Hiroshige who you thought only did well-respected seasonal landscapes did them, and upon further research I find they were common as, well, as Playboy magazines today!
Hooray for olden-days Japanese pornography! Hooray for skinny pale Japanese guys with funny hair cuts and ridiculously massive rods diddling skinny pale Japanese ladies holding odd household objects! Hooray for 37 disturbing shades of vulvas! Hooray for everyone's kimono being monstrously askew!
Wednesday, September 22, 2004
Shapely Tank is vanquished!
Here are the promised pictures of the kid:
And here are some pictures of my lovely, even-tempered, angelic adorable cat, because this is, after all, a knitting blog:
More news later, I have to go put in a second job app for today!
Tuesday, September 21, 2004
Saturday, September 18, 2004
Anyway, here's a survey you should go take, thanks to Addie:
You Are A Pirate!
What Type Of Swashbuckler Are You?
brought to you by Maddog Varuka & Dawg Brown
There's girl and boy pictures for each result! Yayyy, boobies. Oh, and go visit my pirate alter-ego on Myspace: The dastardly, deadly, devious (and drop-dead gorgeous--hey, this is a fantasyland pretend identity) Cap'n Musketball Miranda! Scourge of the Sea! Dog of the Deep! Raider of the Fridge!
Anyway, computer and camera are still not getting along and it's all I can do to not bash in the CPU with the camera and hang myself with the USB cord. Mom pointed out that the computer is actually hers, so if I did that she'd be quite upset. That helped.
So I drank a lot of whiskey last night, can you guess what happened this morning? That's right, the munchkin came over for about 30 minutes. April, the teenaged biological mom, was watching her today and got called in to sign some papers for her new job, and by the time she dropped the kid off here she had her throwing a fit. Which I hate. As soon as April left I put her in time out and explained to her that I understood she was unhappy and disappointed, but that if she continued to have a fit we would have NO FUN, while if she would calm down and play nice we would have LOTS of fun and when April came back she'd be jealous and miserable, and also that my poor dad was in the room too and couldn't watch tv until she quit being such a butt. Guess what happened. That's right, we had a blast. She wanted to watch part of a movie so I sent her over to the bookcase to pick one out and she picked Return of the Jedi in deference to my dad (and because she has a major bone for Yoda, who is on the box), and then proceeded to make dad play Barbie Slut Fight (a real game that any child under the age of 9 will spontaneously begin playing the moment you give them a Barbie, even Amish children instinctively know how to do it) until she decided to torment my cat (she's not mean to her, the cat just hates children of any stripe and Sierra looooooves her and follows her around and pets her the wrong way and wants to put her face on her and kiss her). Then April came back and was kind of dissapointed because the kiddo was calm and happy and likely to stay that way all day.
Anyway, go talk like a pirate. The website even has hilarious pirate pick-up lines which I guarantee will work on me.
Never mind, I already cried today over it, there are much better things to cry over, like the various Hurricanes and Tropical Storms that have and are still wreaking havoc across my part of the world. To which I say, come stay at my house, we know when to evacuate and will be going to Austin, not Houston. Really. E-mail me and I'll tell you where to call to get in touch with me. Really.
But my picture thing is still getting me down. I really want to post a picture of Panty-Head with Pants (not panties) on her Head. Just captured today, and totally useless as long as I'm having this problem. She was awesome today, btw. We walked 4 blocks to the hardware store, bought the wrong plunger (how can you buy the wrong plunger? Ask my mom), watched the huge earth-moving equipment building the parking lot for our new grocery store, and walked 4 blocks home, and she was as good as a two-year-old can be. Why would I undertake that kind of walk with a toddler, you ask? Because I asked her if she'd like to go with me or stay home with my mom (my mom is always her preference) and she said go with me, and I asked her if she'd like to walk or go in the car (we walk two blocks to the park every day she's with me because I said so, just like why she does the arm-over-arm monkey bars every day we go to the park--because I'm living my junior-high humiliations through her and obliterating them by the work she does with me to assure she'll never submit to them) and she goes, "I go wi' Ke'ye and WAK, no CAW!"
It took us approximately 1.5 hours to walk 4 blocks, buy the wrong plunger, watch the backhoe and bulldozer and dump truck and flattener and walk back, with all the usual stops at the lawn mower store and the boat store (on the way, we had to walk by them and she fricking loves any kind of specialized equipment) and I loved every minute. Fault me, go ahead. I'm the strictest child-raising-advocate you can find and I fricking LOVED it.
Until I got back and realized we got the wrong plunger. And then there was diarrhea. Yep. And she usually goes home around 4 o'clock, but she didn't go home till 8 tonite. I was ready to fall down. Yet I still knitted her baby doll a hat ("This ma babu, she gost no HAT!") and gave her a bath (After the squirts episode: mom loved spraying her with the movable shower head, I loved getting all the poop off her and we all hated being in proximity to the toilet that hadn't been PROPERLY plunged because I bought the wrong plunger. I wonder what distracted me?) and discussed the movie version of "Horton Hears a Who" with her. Anyway, I'm most proud of finishing my Shapely Tank last night and not putting the munchkin in a dog kennel (I've got one) at 5:30 this evening (shortly after the bath).
Oh, and by the way, my shoes got a bid today and 39 people have looked at them and I really appreciate anything y'all have done to get those stats for me.
Thursday, September 16, 2004
Anyway, I have to go babysit now, the munchkin just got here and there's only so long I feel comfortable letting her eat breakfast in front of The Lion King and still getting paid for it.
Wednesday, September 15, 2004
Okay, okay, I'm done venting. Please ignore all that bile up there, I only meant it mostly. I'm good, I'm great, I'm getting a job. I feel really positive about three or four of the apps I've put in, I'm sure I'm getting called by Monday. All I have to do is wait it out and try hard. I can do this!
Tuesday, September 14, 2004
I went on my first job interview in almost six years yesterday and I nearly crapped my pants. It was so weird. I'm not even used to talking to people who haven't bought me liquor. I'm guessing this means I maybe didn't do as well as I could have, but I've got some experience now, I'm not going in blind anymore. So that's good.
In other news, we're about to be creamed by a hurricane in about 12 hours and there isn't a weatherman in the world who will admit it. They're all, "It's going to come in between New Orleans and Jacksonville. (Hurricane Ivan moves westward at approximately 300 mph on the radar map behind him) This hurricane will definitely not go any more west at all, ever. (Hurrican Ivan zeroes in on Houston) It will especially not go anywhere near Texas, or Kellye Fry or her stuff. (Hurricane Ivan makes an obscene gesture directly into the camera)" Liars. Dirty liars. Ivan's coming to dinner, for sure. We haven't had one hit us in a while, it's totally time.
We went to get batteries and bottled water and candy and beer yesterday, and bread. For some reason whenever we have heavy weather around here the first thing everyone thinks of is buying bread. I'm not joking. If there's a severe thunderstorm warning on the 5 o'clock news, the bread isle at the supermarket will be completely denuded by 6:15. I know, I've been trying to figure it out since I was five. "So when Hurricane Ivan gets here, we'll just make him a sandwich and he'll spare our house."
And I was bad and didn't go get a job today, but it rained cats and dogs all morning and afternoon, and I woke up with a crick in my back from sleeping on my tummy in the bowl of my mattress. Plus I was a little hungover and I wanted to sit on the couch all day in my jammies and color. Shut up. You have a job. Anyway, it was a pretty good day. I made potato soup for dinner and it was really good. Plus if our house gets blown off this weekend I might not have to get a job at all! I can just live off Red Cross or something. Go live with Jimmy Carter. Yay! I love peanuts!
Sunday, September 12, 2004
In other news, I still need a job even though I applied for two jobs in two days. < sigh > This is so hard. But I really do have to get focused and do it. I have to cut the lawn tomorrow and do some sorting of boxes of crap, then Monday I'm applying for out of town jobs in the morning and driving around and applying for any job I see a sign for here in town. Send me good thoughts. You know, or a check. I'm not particular.
I've had two (2) e-mails in the last week from people who read my blog and want me to post more. How fucking cool is that? I mean, I'm no Wil Wheaton, but actual people (one of which I don't know at all, one of which is my best friend) are actually reading and want to hear more! Next, I take over the WORLD!!! Mwwwwwaaahhhaaaaahhaaaa*choke*cough*hack
Anyhow, Hooray! for everyone who reads my demented ramblings and double Hooray! Hooray! for everyone who gives me feedback of any kind. (Comments still rock my world, and I actually do check for them pretty often and always respond with gratitude to the poster if they leave any way for me to.) Maybe once I get a job there can even be contests and prizes and fun things like that! Thanks a million to anyone and everyone who drops in and reads me, I appreciate it like crazy.
Thursday, September 09, 2004
So, the Dodge place in Wharton called to say a part she had ordered was in, and I had the munchkin for the day, so mom was going to drive over and pick it up herself. She's on day 6 of muscle relaxers, so I was "helping" her find her keys. Okay, she was pacing back and forth and getting in my way while I looked for her keys, then she'd bump into me and go, "What was I doing?" with this look on her face like she was trying to remember who I was. Then she found her keys, picked them up, dropped them and paced off to the other end of the house. Two seconds after the keys left her hand we had this conversation:
Me: "Mom, what are you doing now?!" (frustrated and shrill)
Her: "I'm LOOKING for my KEYS!!!" (more frustrated and more shrill)
Me: "THESE fucking keys that you just had in your FUCKING hand before you went to fucking PSYCHO PILL LAND!?!"
Her: "I guess so?"
So I put the bambino in the car seat and drove her, obviously. And she's halving the dosage because I told her if she loses her glasses one more time I'm putting her in the home with the lowest rating I can find, wherever will take her for only her SSI check.
Shut up, you didn't have to help her "find" her glasses 25 times yesterday. That's right, I fucking counted.
Anyway, that's not even what this story is about. That's just why I was driving 15 minutes down the highway with a highly irritable 2 year old and a cranky, drugged older person. And the kiddo was starting to have a serious fit strapped in back there and I was doing the quasar-fast eye back-and-forth thing you do with a kid throwing a fit when you're about to crash the godddam car because your mom won't STOP FUCKING SINGING.
And here is the point of my story: I threw the kid's daypack in the backseat and had her pull out her just-in-case pair of emergency panties and put them on her head like a hat, and we started calling her Panty-Head and telling stories (and yes, even singing songs) about Panty-Head and she was laughing and I was laughing and mom was laughing and no one had to die in a firey car crash of death.
The End! Maybe tomorrow I'll tell you about how this evening a Pineapple saved the lives of several young women who angered me...
Wednesday, September 08, 2004
Tuesday, September 07, 2004
And tomorrow, I'll be driving to Wharton (15 minutes away) to put in four more apps, so that might be cool. They are for mostly menial positions, a housekeeper at a motel and a receptionist at an old folk's home and such (today's was at a new truck stop here in town) but I'm hoping for some good solid work/pay for a few months.
I've been knitting a lot lately, too. I finished one armhole trim on the Shapely Tank and the one strip of my afgan. Whooot! Only nine more to go! I cast on two that are alike to knit at the same time. And I learned to cable! Yayyy! I knit this hat for my mom months ago:
But as you can see it makes a better yamulka than a hat, so I'm going to take the cable strip I've been knitting and make it long enough to attach on to the lower edge and maybe cast back on and do some ribbing and it will be a good winter hat, cover her ears and stay on and whatnot. I swear I'm going to post pictures of all this knitting stuff, tomorrow. Jeez I hope no prospective employers read this, I'm beginning to realize that the blog is many things, and among them a comprehensive record of my inability to follow through on a deadline. Every post is all, "I swear I'm going to post pictures soon," or a description or whatever, then I don't do it for two weeks. Anyway, I might soon work at Buc-ee's (yes, that is a beaver) or maybe HEB (they just built a new store in town and are having a job fair Friday at a church. Makes me kind of uneasy. But they have great benefits?) or one of my other prospects, so I'm happy.
Course, I'm drinkin' whiskey, so maybe that's why I'm happy. You can never tell with me. Hee!
Wednesday, September 01, 2004
And here's a photo of the bathroom floor about near done with the toilet re-seated--I didn't do that part, the plumbers did, but I was kind of waiting on them before I did any more. Yayy! Near bathroom finishment! Hoorah!
And here's a photo of a silly little dog who doesn't like me to take her picture:
And they're playing the Rhythm Room again September 30th, opening for Hairy Apes BMX, who are so well known around Austin that I've actually heard of them, and I'm really excited to see Ozzmodiar that good again with a decent crowd.