Blown Fuse

My lungs are as clean as my floors.

I just turned on my old computer for the first time in six months and my SilkQuit program popped up.

I've been officially smoke-free for over 1 year, 6 months.

*sigh*

There are some days where I wish for a cigarette so bad that my eyes water, but I know that if I slip up just once that I'm basically setting myself up for a readdiction.

I'm proud of me. Now I can officially delete this program from my computer.

Show me yours and I'll show you mine.

My bank statement is now five pages long (two pages front & back plus one reconciliation page). Hmm. So, the innovation of check/debit cards that was supposed to save a few trees by preventing us from writing checks has been made moot by lengthy paper statements. Niiiiiice.

How long was your last one?

Anything to avoid a 20 minute drive.

It's Saturday (Duh!) and I'm so far behind at work that I'm actually sitting here contemplating the benefits of going into the office.

There are a lot of things that I can do from home, but then again a lot more that I need to be in the office to do.

By the time I go on vacation, I would like to be caught up enought that I can leave a basket of work for my assistant and have it get done by the time I get back. Any other emergency sort of situation will just have to be taken in stride until I get back.

Excuse me while I consult my magic eight ball.

...*shakes ball rapidly*

Magic eight ball says stay home.

Okay.

Two fewer teeth in my head.

So, I had those two teeth pulled and I feel like shite. It's not my jaw that's killing me, but my head. I had sedation, so I suspect that the drug wearing off its what's causing it. Other than that I get a little light-headed when I stand up too fast, so I should probably stop that. I'm restricted to clear liquids and milk products (excluding cheese) right now. I want a taco so bad I could cry.

I need to go back to work tomorrow. With everything there being in a state of disarray from everyone moving around yesterday the phone system is all screwy. I don't want anyone touching anything because they don't know anything about how all this shit is connected and I don't want to have to, and pardon my crassness here, "rip them a new one." Yes, somewhere along the way I've become an obsessive compulsive bitch. That's actually written into my job description.

I took a pain killer about 4 hours ago. I really don't know what kind of shape my jaw is in (other than bloody and swollen), but I know I can't drive around after taking these things.

Honestly - should I be able to go back to work tomorrow? If I have to spend Monday cleaning up their various messes I'll be none too happy.

Now if you excuse me, I have to go pack in more gauze *blech*.

Rinse twice per day.

I'm having oral surgery done tomorrow and this stuff (chlorhexidine gluconate) was prescribed to me to rinse with.

Oh. My. God.

When it's in your mouth it's not so bad (like certain things my grandma spooned down my throat as a tot). When you spit it out, hot damn is it nasty - the aftertaste is like black licorice. If you don't like licorice, then it's particuarly repugnant. I feel like scratching at my tongue with my fingernails just to get it out of my mouth.

Anyone else had to use this crap? The bottle even says that I should NOT drink water afterwards as it will intensify the aftertaste. Nice.

That'll make it easier.

I'm having teeth pulled tomorrow.

What did Bossman tell me before I left work today?

"Make sure the dentist doesn't pump you full of drugs to sedate you and then feel you up."

Gee, thanks.

Technical Difficulties

If you're currently seeing a whole lot of little red exclamation points next to the munu blogs in your bloglines list it's because our server is f.u.b.a.r.

It's a wonder you're able to read this.

If for whatever the site's down and you're itching for some Tiffany, keep trying.

Giggle Alert

Scott sent me this link to Glenn Feron's portfolio today while I was at work. He retouches photos.

I particuarly enjoyed the unretouched Béyonce photos.

This is really going to happen.

So, I called the realty company that rents certain homes on Bald Head Island this morning and tried to book the vacation house Scott and I had agreed on. The agent talked me out of renting that particular house because it was in a state of disrepair and the stove was broken. The owner expressed that he wasn't interested in fixing anything and wanted to sell it and blah blah blah.

So, we scrounged around and found one in a comparable price range. It's a little tacky
...but there's a pool right behind the building and we can take a bike or golf cart to anywhere on the island we want to go.

I'm getting more and more excited about this. Last time we went we were there for a long weekend and were staying in an inn. We had to eat out for every meal which got kind of burdensome.

Now we can take some food with us (whatever is tolerable to carry over on the ferry) and cook meals as necessary, although I expect most of those meals to be Bowl Appetites.

On a semi-related note, I'm having teeth pulled next Thursday. A few days of liquid food is all I need to drop a few pounds before making my yearly bathing suit debut. Nice.

Refining my Craft

I just ("just" meaning within the past few minutes) finished the first draft of a new short story I'm tentatively calling "Beige."

I feel really good about it because it's about an issue that's really important to me, but I feel like I'll never be able to clean it up enough for outsiders to truly understand some of the symbolism.

First of all, I laugh now at the very idea that I'm sitting here planning what symbols there are going to be in my work.

When I was going through school and analyzing countless works of literature I was so idealistic as to hope that these great writers had included those very profound connotations inadvertantly...as if Charlotte Perkins Gilman didn't intentially craft every word in "The Yellow Wallpaper" to convey some very specific point about emotion and womanhood (it ain't about the paper, folks).

I wanted to think that they were just SO GOOD that they spewed this stuff without even knowing it and that we were just sitting in class applying meaning to things where the author hadn't intended there to be any.

My problem is that I'm torn between wanting to write "literature,"--that is, the stuff that you take notes in the margins of and read twice to figure out--and writing humorous, "don't need to think about it to read it" disposable garbage.

*sigh*

Anyway. I have a lot of work to do either way.

I can smell the salty air already.

I haven't been cooking much lately. Part of that is because by the time I get home I'm so lethargic that I only have enough energy to lift a beer to my lips. I've even taken to napping lately.

The idea of doing anything "fun" other than laying on the sofa wrapped up in a blankie watching t.v. seems like an annoyance.

Fortunately for us, we're going to plan to take some vacation time next month. We were tossing around the idea of taking a cruise somewhere or flying down to somewhere practical but given the fact that we're in the process of refinancing our house and doing renovation it just isn't financially responsible to be skipping off anywhere like that...and besides, we want to take a vacation that's at least a week long. That elimates certain cost-prohibitive locations right off the bat.

So, we're going to Bald Head Island. It's an NC island at the very beard of the Outer Banks that is only accessible by boat and where you can only get around via golf cart.

We've been there once before during the winter. The place was desserted and very peaceful.

I've made a pact with myself that I want to get a tan at some point this summer, so there we go.

I plan on buying a stack of books and not touching any of them until I'm laying on a beach with a sun beating down on my head.

Ah, that's the life.

Oogly Googly eyes

Have you ever been around one of those kids, say two or three, that look at you like they are curious of you?

I don't mean kids that you know, per se, but other peoples' kids in public places.

Last night we went to O'Charley's for dinner and there was this little girl sitting in a booster chair. Unlike any other three-year-old I've ever encountered, she was sitting there calmly, assessing her surroundings, and waiting for the proper time to begin sipping her juice.

She was staring at me. It wasn't the "Ooh! Can I have your Barbie!" type stare, or even the "Mommy, how come her hair does that?" stare, but the "I want to be just like you when I grow up" stare.

That shit weirds me out. I remember doing that when I was a pipsqueak.

Things that cause acid reflux.

A Picture Share!,
originally uploaded by blownfuse.

Family Reunions

My grandma sent me a set of kitchen curtains and some information about a family reunion being held in Waterbury right before Labor Day.

Dude, my grandma is 83. I want to spend as much time with her as possible, but damned if I really want to spend time being henpecked by a bunch of people who smell like Jean Nâte and Old Spice deodorant.

I mean, come on, let's face it: I'm adorable. I'm short and I'm skinnier than the family average, and I have all my teeth.

That means I'm successful.

Although a part of me really wants to put my college diploma in my suitcase to go show off my mental prowess, another part of me just doesn't want to be bothered.

And besides, I'd never humilate Scott by dragging him to one of these things.

In case you're just tuning in, here's some illuminating backstory:

Scott is white. I am not. I am the descendant of slaves and jews with curly-fros. We're past discussion of such issues in our relationship because it don't matta.

The one time I allowed my grandma to strongarm me into bringing Scott to her church was the LAST time either of us have been in a church. There are always people who will spin gossip in your favor, so one of those people called me and let me know who was talking smack about us after we left - a person who wasn't even present in the building. Word travels fast in small towns.

And in case you're wondering the difference between black family reunions and white family reunions, I can dedicate an entire post to that...but, I'd rather someone else do it. I do have embarrassing photographs to corroborate mine, though.

It's not really that big of a deal, I guess. I could go by myself and be miserable and asked an arseload of stupid-ass questions about my occupation and "how I get my hair do do that" or I can sit at home and laugh maniacally.

I really don't want to find myself on a plane that close to Labor Day, anyway....I could leave early and drive, but....damn it. I'll need to flip a coin.

Airtight terms of service.

Netflix is pissing me off. (By the way, "Hi." I'm taking a vacation day today so I'm at home and I just woke up 30 minutes ago).

A couple of months ago I stepped us down for the 2-out-at-a-time "unlimited" plan because we [read: Scott] weren't finding enough time during the week to watch them all. I figured that Netflix was throttling (slowing down our movie flow because we're high-frequency users) us an I didn't want to be gouged for them to do it.

We returned two movies to our Greensboro distribution center via mail on Monday. They notified us that one was received on Tuesday. The other one, going to the exact same place and mailed from the exact same box, was marked as returned on yesterday. So. We've gotten one movie in the mail this week, although our plan and the way the post operates technically allows us to have up to four.

In their terms of service they DO say that they ship out movies to people who use the service less frequently with greatest priorty.

So, basically, they're giving better service to people who make them more money and they're admitting to it. Even if you're on the eight-out plan, if you actually try to use it as an unlimited service, you're not going to get what you bargained for.

*sigh* I just want them to be clear on what they refer to as "unlimited." I wrote them the following email:

"I've been a Netflix subscriber for one year. I've been a steady subcriber - I've never dropped the service to see if there was "something better" in the market. I never complained, even when my 3-out plan discs slowed to a trickle. I never formally complained even when I was getting 3 or 4 broken or unplayable discs each month.

Now I'm complaining.

In your terms of service you basically state that you can slow the flow of movies to your high-frequency users in favor of those people who make you more money by renting less discs.

I want to know how you decide when to stop sending movies in a timely manner.

Is there a specific conversion ratio that you follow or do you just STOP sending movies in a timely manner when a subscriber gets close to the end of their billing period and you see that they've gotten VERY close to that "imaginary" number you've set for their plan? Of course, no such number exists because you claim these things to be "unlimited."

In case you're wondering if I'm speaking in generalities here, NO. Here's a specific example. On Monday, 8/8 we mailed two movies from the same mailbox to our local distribution center. You reported that you recieved one the next day and the other two days following that. I find it hard to believe that it took three days for the post office to deliver a flat envelope to a town forty minutes over. We've recieved ONE disc this week and a total of 10 in the past 30 days.

My math says that we should be able to have at LEAST 16. But of course, that isn't profitable for you.

I should not have to dig out my dusty Blockbuster card to present in person to rent movies in a store when your service slow down.

I'm not threatening to cancel my service at this time. I just want a number. Tell me how many movies you set as an unoffical cap on the "2-out/unlimited" plan so that I don't exepct to recieve more than than.

If we shouldn't bother to rush these movies back to get new ones, we won't do it. We'll put ourselves into a EVEN LOWER plan bracket where we feel like we're getting what we thought.

Please advise."

What'll probably happen is I'll get some copy and paste automatic response and I'll have to keep replying to get a here-or-there answer.

I would say that is is the last straw, but it isn't. Until my local video store is convenient enough to use to difray the fact that I'm there so much they know me by name I won't turn the business over to them. Stay tuned.

She SHIT in the box.

And peed, too. That's normally what you expect of your cat, however NOT when said box is her carrier.

I took Bodie to PetSmart this afternoon to get her daggers trimmed. I knew it was time because yesterday she took a swipe at me and her nails cut into the thick skin of my palm 1/16 of an inch and pulled a chunk of skin off. It took me five minutes to get her into her carrier today.

When we got to PetSmart and she was put up on the grooming table she was fine. She was timid, obviously, but she didn't try to EAT the groomer as she does me when I try to cut her nails.

When I put her back into the car, no sooner had I pulled the seatbelt over the carrier than she began taking a huge, wet crap.

*sigh*

I thought maybe she had farted. I rolled down the window and kept going, but the smell got stronger.

I rushed to get the carrier across the threshold to let her out and saw that she had indeed soiled the towel I use to pad the carrier (now in the trash).

Bad Bodie.

I just find that strange. True, she's an indoor cat and doesn't get to see much of the outside world, but I'm disappointed that she'd think I'd let her get hurt.

Now my car smells like a diaper.

Retail Therapy

Typically I feel like a turd when I go out and buy myself new clothing. I consider the fact that I have a closet full of stuff that I never wear and feel like I'm being wasteful.

Feeling a little gloomy today, I realized that indeed, I have a lot of clothing but much of it is comprised of ill-fitting hand-me-downs that will be tragically out of style by the time (if ever) I grow into them.

I left work at around 3 believing that I would only buy a pair of shoes. I've already thrown away two pairs of black sandals this summer and needed to find a suitable replacement to wear to work. I had a DSW $10 coupon, so it was off I went. Like my new shoes? They're by Aerosole - yes, that company notorious for manufacturing "comfort" shoes. I think they've got a nice mid-century appeal about 'em and they should get me through the fall and the milder part of winter.

I then went to Kohls in search of tanks to wear under sweaters and jackets. All they had was crap. I called a friend and tried to have her talk me out of a trip to the mall which ended miserably.

Not only did I go to the mall, but I spent an hour and a half in JC Penney (under grandma's orders) (they're having an awesome sale, by the way). Got some stuff from Bath and Body Works, too (is it just me or is their sales staff a liiiiiiiitle creepy?).

So. I'm feeling a bit better than I was five hours ago. I've got stuff. Whee!

On a sadder note, the Gap khakis I bought on Sunday for full price are FUCKING DEFECTIVE and split down the crotch as I was driving home. Fortunately you don't need your receipt in these cases because I think I shredded it yesterday.

Can't win them all, I guess.

A Picture Share!

A Picture Share!,
originally uploaded by blownfuse.