Thank goodness that's over!

The holiday drive, that is. Went up to mom's Tuesday, got in one set of grandparents, did Christmas stuff yesterday morning and caught the other set of grandparents on my way back to Orlando. Got home about four and ate every single thing from my stocking plus leftovers in one fell, bloat-inducing swoop, then spent twelve hours in a cheese-and-chocolate-and-cashew-and-shrimp stupor. Gah, you can tell when I'm worried about money- I'll eat anything that isn't furry. At least I got really good presents this year, that's nice. I slacked re: work today, figure it's ok since crazy season is about to start and I'll be living in the friggin' place for two months- if I don't end up in the loony bin.

No soup for you!

More adventures in everything-but-the-sink cooking: I've been grouchy and sickish with a fever/tummyache/headache thing for two days, and decided to make a quickie chicken soup. So I took water, bouillon, celery, carrots, and frozen chicken tenders... and then added Publix mojo chicken, tomato paste, milk, frozen french fries, bell pepper, jalapeno, onion, black olives, cloves, sea salt, garlic, spinach, cheese, and a lot of cayenne pepper. It turned into a sorta chicken-vegetable bisque. And it was sooooooo good. I still feel ucky in my head, but my tummy is warm and happy.

Christmas at the Gein's

I have revolting leper hands. And, apparently, chip crumbs in my keyboard.

So here's what happened with Project Dummy 2: Electric Boogaloo. I was feeling better by late yesterday, so got Dan to duct tape me. That mess gets HOT, and it's not easy to cut off your bod. We taped up the side seam, started on the foam filling. Got the thing half full ('Hello, Clarice...'), ran out of foam. Had to hang it up to start drying during the walmart run. Now, we're talking about a life sized, very endowed, headless, limbless model of a lady with dowel rods stuck through the legs like a pig on a spit, hanging upside down from the ceiling. Outside. My neighbors have Christmas trees and pretty lights, and I've got... a torso. Oh, dear.

So we got more foam, finished the filling. Here's where the problem came in: the second batch of foam was the 'Large Gap Filler' (stop snickering!). Apparently it expands to about 4 times its original size, and in an enclosed container the heat from gas expansion as it dries warms duct tape up enough to pop seams. I was traumatized by how much Girl the first dummy was, but lemme tell ya, this new one is not a lady you wanna piss off. She is one solid broad. Mae Westian. Anyway, I was trying to trim the loaf-of-bread extrusions that were exploding from the leg holes (I said stop snickering!), and went in there barehanded with a cheap steak knife after ruining my plastic gloves. Holy Lord Jesus, I have never made a worse mess in my life. You know the worst sunburn you ever had? The one where your skin went nuclear and then peeled in cornflakey wads for a month? That's my hands. And my nails... it's like bionic bread dough. I'm not gonna list everything I've tried to clean it off, but it's not working.

Oh, and btw, you do NOT want to blink out a contact while this is happening. It's also Not a Good Idea to somehow get the stuff on your butt. Or to try to smoke, Dr. Strangelove style, with all your fingers glued together. And no, there's no video. (It'd be highly NSFW given the number of hysterical cussing fits involved).

The cable guy comes back today, so I'm'a have to sacrifice a shirt to cover her up while he's here- the damn thing looks really porny standing in my living room, (hey, sailor!) and some of those Brighthouse guys are weird. I figure if I make things to fit her, they'll be loose enough I can take in the seams as needed to fit my actual figure. So that's sort of a plus, except maybe for the 70's bikini I've been working on. Her booty resembles the stuff rap videos are made of, and mine... doesn't. *sigh* C'est la vie... or something like that.

Oh, yeah:

(Actually, it's tomorrow. Yay, me, anyway.)

Oh, dear.

Just watched "Little Miss Sunshine"- yeah, I know, I'm like three years behind on that- and it was aight. Steve Carell was really good, and I was so relieved it didn't get overly twee, or self-conscious trying to show outsider types (yeah, Napoleon Dynamite, I'm lookin' at you). Not good enough to buy, but not bad.

Anyway, it's a slow day. I'm a bit tranked, so that adds to the draggy feeling. The doc and I have talked about the idea that 100 percent better isn't a quick process, that sometimes 50 or 80 percent can be enough "better" to get by. I just want the energy to put up Xmas lights and wrap presents, maybe stay at work a whole 8 hour day. When's 80 percent gonna hit?

(Later)
Gonna have to call a mulligan on the dressmaking dummy. One problem with being, er... A Whole Lotta Girl is that it's really tough to get the bits and pieces stuffed without structural collapse issues. Cloth squooshes, wet tissue paper won't stay put, and tinfoil... well, if you've seen the nutjobs' hats, you can imagine. Kinda Gaultier. I'm thinking 3 layers of duct tape filled with Great Stuff foam for the next go round.

Hello, Clarice...

If my shrink weren't married, I'd propose to him. Just kidding, but I really do feel a little better about things now. We're doubling the dose on the generic to see if that will equal the brand's effect, and he kicked me samples of Obscenely Expensive Drug A to get me through until the generic upgrade kicks in. Maybe now I can have a nonMorrissey birthday. Yay!

Side note: If you happen to sew, and happen to think making your own dressmakers' dummy is a good idea, you're right- but be prepared. Seeing your own torso modelled in true-to-life size and proportion is... off putting. And stuffing the thing feels extreeeeeeemely Buffalo Bill-ish. I kept thinking, "He's making himself a girl suit out of real girls" the whole time. Yeesh.

Thanksgiving, woo!

Short morning at work, Monty Python on the Beeb, wings-n-beer with my brother, only two more weeks 'til my birthday. Not so bad.

Can I buy you a fish sandwich?

You know what I despise about finding out for sure I'm mentally off? It was bad enough to spend first half of my life "gifted" and the second half "crazy," but now I'm terrified I might not ever get better. I'm horribly upset 'cause the generic meds aren't working at all ($5 copay vs $100 for brand), and the contrast between feeling almost normal a few weeks ago and this terrible now is awful, insulting, like poking the kid in the Special Helmet with a pointy stick. I see the doc Monday, but in the meantime, I can't make it through a full day at work, hate everything and almost everyone, and am constantly... well.... I know what I think and feel minute-to-minute, but I can't tell what's really me and what's the meds. I am sick of feeling like this when I have people who need me to be at least vaguely normal.

On a funnier, even weirder note, I'm getting hit on a lot lately- like, five propositions this week. It's mad flattering, considering I have 30 more lbs to lose to get back to my fighting weight, but kinda infuriating 'cause I feel so bad and apparently look pretty nice. Men are bizarre.

hOpe?

Watching election results, wishing I were in Grant Park, drinking a beer- and believe you me, shaking hands are no fun when it comes to CDB in cans. Of course Florida hasn't been called yet (again?!?), (and I'm dying to know the results on Prop 2) but the big towns are all blue so far.... I'm wishin' and hopin'. And golly, isn't Keith Olbermann a cutie?

she's lost control again

Wow. Complete meltdown this morning. The meds are helpful, but having a level-er head gets you thinking too much sometimes. Halloween was good- talked with my shrink, went to a party- but the rest of the weekend has been eh. Without a project to work on I had too much time to squirrel. So now I'm making a new pair of running pants. Exciting life, huh?

I AM SO BORED

This is ridiculous. I fell asleep early, thus waking up even more obscenely early than usual. No, wait, it's not even late enough yet to qualify as waking up "early." It's just... ridiculous. "A Nightmare on Elm Street" is on tv, but even edited it's enough to creep me out, which I don't need in the middle of the night. Shoot, I shouldn't even be thinking about that movie- I'll get heebie-jeebies without watching it!

So I voted Tuesday- yay, absentee ballots!- and got all ocd worrying that if I didn't pick somebody for each thing, even random judicial candidates I've never heard of, it could invalidate the ballot. I know that's dumb- then again, I do live in Florida- and I know it's bad to vote for someone based on their possession of an amusing name or the party they belong to, but... I really care about only two things on that ballot, and I'll be darned if I'm gonna let some "Should Judge Wanky McPlonkerpants be retained in office?" question keep me from getting my two cents in. So I did the best I could. Just hope I didn't accidentally vote for some municipal Antichrist or anything.

I need to get a library card. The thought of rereading anything, even my yummy Stephen Kings, makes me want to scream right now- I've read all my books at least a dozen times apiece (and that's no small task, if you've ever seen my collection) and can't go bookshopping right now. Gotta look into that, maybe tomorrow. As for tonight... I think the original version of "The Fly" was coming on next- maybe I'll watch that.

Good times, bad times

Another awake-before-the-sun day. Good news: that request to split my workday 4 + 4 finally got approved for the next month, 'til our shifts change. Yay! With 4 hours between to take a nap, I can finally start getting more than 20 hours a week done again. Getting caught up on bills before Christmas would = a happy Jenny.

I've been kinda bummed about finishing the Lovett outfit (end-of-project blues?), so am trying to choose the next big Thing To Make. I've got a pattern for a sorta retro, June-Cleaver-at-a-cocktail-party dress that I'm thinking of trying. It's fairly complicated, but it would be super cute if it comes out well. Might even do for the Xmas party at work. Just need to pick a color! **

** (7 PM update) Word is they've canceled the work Xmas party ('cause of the damn economy), so I guess the June Cleaver dress would be semi-pointless. Poo. Back to the drawing board.

'Scuse me while I whip this out

Just got into politics with me ma. Damn it, I hate talking about "issues"! She's pretty conservative, I'm pretty liberal, and it's just so much better not to go there and make everybody uncomfortable. I feel really guilty, which is stupid cuz I think what I think. I tend to have trouble openly disagreeing with people, no matter how peaceable the conversation is. Today has been a very bad side effect day, which doesn't help. Good things, too, though: I had a fantastic dinner last night- Dan made bacon-wrapped shrimp and nice little steaks- and I've got just a little more work on the Lovett skirt and I'll be all done- yay, surf 'n'turf and halloween costumes!

Poop.

Grrrr. I haven't made the progress I expected today on Mrs. Lovett. Ran into some last minute architectural issues- not hard to resolve, just time consuming- and then couldn't finish the fine work I thought I would cause my hands have been shaking like crazy. I can concentrate on the stitching or on making my hands still, but not both. Frustrating. My dose goes up again tomorrow. I'm following the drug company's suggested schedule, just added a couple of half-steps in between recommended steps up cause I'm nervous about The Rash That Kills. So far, so good- no rashes. I just hate the growing-a-third-eye factor. As long as it's not another nearsighted one....

D'you know what I'd like to do, Mr. Todd?

The Mrs. Lovett costume is finally almost done. YAY!! Between tonight and tomorrow, it should be good to go. Did a test run with the makeup a few days ago, and... well, I'll post pics when it's done, you'll see. It's not terrible.



I'm trying a new perfume sample today- this scent's insanely frickin' expensive, but really beautiful. "Untitled" by Strange Invisible Perfumes (it was originally called "Lady Day," but apparently Miss Billie's estate disapproved). It smells of gardenias and, faintly, oranges, and it's very subtle- not one where you sniff the bottle and get prowlygrowly- it creeps up on you, you start thinking, "wow, God, what is that? Oh, it's me!" Very nice one. Too expensive to buy a bottle, so I'm glad not to love it too much, but... really a nice scent.

Argh.

I'm awake, and hyper, and it's 4 am. I feel like Ralph Roberts- I'd been waking up at 5:30 for two weeks ('cept Saturday night when I actually slept almost straight through), then yesterday at 4:30, today at 3:20.... how do I deal with work like this? The sometimes-shaking hands are kinda funny, but insomnia... not so much. Damn side effects (you know, I could grow a third eye right now and I'd say, "Huh, that must be the meds"). *sigh* I know it will stabilize, but right now... ick-o-rama.

Whoa.

So I woke up, went outside to "check on the weather" (it's chilly and beautiful) and was sitting there ruminating, when I realized I feel... normal. And then I realized I'm not entirely sure what "normal" is. I've been moody my whole life, and I don't have the slightest idea what I'll be like when I'm not a little on edge all the time. Huh... hope I like her. Really hope y'all like her. I don't wanna be a mayonnaise-on-wonder-bread girl, but maybe being less "interesting" will be more comfortable and less dramatic. I think it might be nice.

My dose goes up again today- I could wait up to Tuesday, but now that I finally slept through the night I think I'd better go ahead and see what happens. Here we go again.

NOM

I just made the best salad, y'all. Forgot to mention the doc visit yesterday, where the PA was a little too eager to inform me that my thyroid is ok and my cholesterol is friggin' horrible (which, btw, is another signal your thyroid is NOT ok. I wish she'd done the tests I asked for). I don't think she liked it that I wasn't fazed, I just explained that cheeseburgers tend to build up over time. (Next visit, I'm gonna insist on seeing the actual doctor. Me and this PA lady don't... er... communicate well). Anyway, I made a shopping list with all these different websites' "10 Best Foods..." articles amalgamated. Luckily, I'm a darn good cook (and that's not bragging cuz it's true). I just made a spinach salad with cashew-crusted mahi and dried apricots and avocado and shiitakes and some other stuff and it was awesome. Woulda been better with bacon, but isn't everything?

monday...

HHN was okay... I wish I wouldnt've wussed out on the haunted houses after just a couple of 'em. Got to go on "Jaws" in the dark. That was cool.

Feeling really good, really normal and happy, today, which I think is due to Drug A kicking in. El Doctor gave me samples of it, but I won't be taking it longterm cuz that mess costs five hundred bucks a month. Kinda annoying, but Drug B is far cheaper and has a good rep (except for when the side effects kill people), so I left the doc a message I'll need a scrip for that one. It's funny, when you're not well you don't want to do anything, but to get better you have to do the extra running around and waiting. My brother and one of my friends have made fun of me a little for being so happy to find out I'm nuts, but after years of being told to 'get more exercise... and take these anti-d's,' I'm really thrilled someone listened. Let's see if the good mood lasts thru work and into tomorrow-at-the-car-dealership-at-OMG-o'clock. That's a big test.

Feed your head

Huh. After all this time, I may have lucked out on shr- er, mental health professionals. A sensible one who asks for your full history and doesn't just shove a new brand of anti-d's at you is rare, from what I've seen. Still need to see what the bloodwork says, but I'm feeling much, much better about the possibility I can get my head level again long-term.

Going to the park tomorrow. Maybe to the AK, definitely to Halloween Horror Nights. Not a great idea given what a wuss I am, but I've wanted to go for years, and working it last year was not the same thing as going. So it's on.

Boogie shoes

It's the closing weekend at PI, so we all went out there last night while it was still free. Got out of work too late for the Adventurer's Club, but oh well. It's funny: the other time I went to PI I was dolled up and tanked up and ready to rumble, and it was... meh. Last night I looked frumpy in work clothes, had awful hair, wasn't really into drinking, and it was alright. Had a really nice time. Got home waaaaaaaaay late, and I hafta work soon, but hey, I got some sleep, the weather is gorgeous, and today is my Friday. It's all good.

I smell funny!

I just finished starting colortesting and dyeing my skirt fabric for Halloween. It's a three step process- I've done the first part, so my house now reeks of stewed tea and various Rit dyes, the bathroom is swathed in enough Glad bags for a body disposal, and my fingernails look like a zombie movie, but I can't clean up 'til the fabric is dry enough to take off the shower rod. And I hafta do this twice more, once with a stamp and once with sponge-and-fingerpainting. It's really fun stuff, especially since it's the first time I've wanted to do anything Lovett-oriented in two weeks, even with all the materials at hand and loads of work left to finish.

I love the Klonopin, the effects are amazing, but I'm praying so hard that this bloodwork will find a concrete reason I've had to deal with these periodic difficulties for so many years. Bonking into a car windshield and coming from a weird clan (sorry, Mommy, a one-really-weird-and-one-semi-weird-sided clan?) shouldn't be enough to produce... this. Hm. Then again, maybe it should. I don't want to do the shrink thing, I don't want to be on permadrugs, I just want to be normal. Not super-happy-chipper, just... not crazy. I'd like to keep Not Getting Fired for at least a little longer- even with better car insurance, the Tardis isn't free!

How do you spell relief?

Klonopin is amazing, y'all! I know benzos aren't for long term use, but I am blown away at how much one measly dose helped. I got thru my short night at work with no problems. Yesterday I was shaking like a dog and trying not to cry or barf if someone asked me how much a one day ticket costs, today I was perfectly okay. That is one good thing about years of scary-brain episodes: the lows are so, so horrible that when you actually feel normal again it's a red letter day. Tell ya what, I may stockpile the rest of those little yellow buggers 'til next time it gets truly ugly, just for the insane niceness of the relief.

Mood altering drugs + fried chicken = fun afternoon?

All's I know is, either these meds had better work or the bloodtests find something actually physically wrong that's fixable, cause I can't handle feeling this awful for much longer. Y'all know how I feel about drugs: I want a here's-what's-wrong-and-here's-the-fix-it-takes-one-dose-and-it's-cheap answer. I can't function in public hardly at all right now, I'm nearly catatonic in private, and I'm physically sick on top of that. This bout showed up and worsened really suddenly and swiftly (I was FINE Labor Day!), and it's a pretty bad one. I mustn't keep missing work, but I can barely function in my job when I'm there, so I'm constantly freaking out, which makes the attacks worse. Dammit, these drugs had better help. Or at least be fun to watch cartoons on. My new doctor isn't too bad (well, I only saw his PA), and they were helpful in checking for a couple of shrinks my insurance will cover (NOT that I want to go that route, but she wants me to 'see someone' in case I'm crazy rather than just offbalance). The lab stuff should be back by Monday, so maybe they'll find something actually wrong, and I can decide what to do from there. It's not a great feeling, waiting to find out if your body needs fixing, or if you're... just an insane person. This is why I prefer drinking.

I used to think that the day would never come

I was outside just now, peeking down at my Autumn-sized neighbor. She's got a Hello Kitty wallet, a folded, dirty dollar, a tin box full of dirt, and a pointy stick. Plus a pudgy friend visiting. I badly want to know what she's digging for- worms? fairy corpses?- but if I made my presence known, it would ruin everything. Being grownup is such CRAP sometimes.

Did you come in for a pie, sir?

Groggy. Just napped out HARD for a bit after working on the Mrs Lovett outfit for a solid eight hours. I don't usually brag on myself, especially before a project is finished, but... it's looking awfully good. Just really labor-intensive to get as close a copy as possible.

As for everything else this week, what to say? Well, if you have to ask....

Keep on rowing away on a distant sea...

So I did something I don't do about a week ago. I refused to acknowledge an apology. I'm sorry, but it was crappy- a buddy called it "doin' the Jesse Jackson,"- you know, when a politico apologizes "if I offended anyone" instead of admitting what they did. I feel rude, but I just couldn't deal with replying. I wouldn't know where to begin. Fudge it.

Freaky happenins with my beloved tardis tonight- stopped at the gas station after work, and it wouldn't crank back up for 15 minutes. Battery-opped stuff was comin' on fine, no scary alternator clickies, it just... didn't go. Gonna drive it around for a while this weekend in case the 1.5 mile run to work is too little for the batt to properly recharge, and of course I've got the Roadside boys on speed dial.

On a happier note, it's rolling up on Halloween again! Sure, we're 2 months out, but that's only for you lazy peeps don't sew yer own costumes. I'm gonna be Mrs Lovett- I know, lotsa emu's will probly do it, too, but I've got OCD-level attention to detail and a good figure for corsets in my favor.

Feelin' stabby

Just read a post over on Jezebel about this nonsense at the federal Dept of Health and Human Services re: last month's leaked memo and the follow-up comments. The gist is, the Bushies wanna make it a federally-protected right for medical practitioners to refuse to give contraception if it goes against their moral or religious beliefs. Okay, if you don't want to do your job, you should QUIT, or GET FIRED. That's all there is to it. My cooter = my business, especially now, in self-defence against a gubmint that sees all cycle-havin' women as "potentially pregnant." In my book, the 6 billion+ already-born-and-walkin'-around-on-our-increasingly-resource-drained-planet take precedence over all those "potential" unborn peeps. If we have the ability to control the population- thereby saving resources for unborn future generations- didn't that ability come from God? The single most important religious belief I have is this: you can have any opinion you want, but don't try to force anyone else to agree. They have their own ideas, so butt out. I gotta go- need to re-register to vote RIGHT NOW.

I can haz ego boosties?

So today was a "Damn, I look pretty good!" day. My grey britches are finally loosey-goosey, my cheekbones looked sharp, all I needed was some eyeliner and a lipgloss, and... it all worked. No credit to me, it's all in the genes (Happy Birthday, Mommy!).

And then I got propositioned, which is always nice. I freaking LOVE getting asked out properly by a man with sense. Shoot, I don't even have an opinion on the fella in question, but I'm happy to have met a second man in Orlando (in over a YEAR) with some skill in dealing with us hoochies. And, like I said, just being asked is nice, just cuz.

And the horse you rode in on

I wish you had better vision when you looked at me, wish you could be what I saw, seeing you. Oh well- I'm done with it.

Now THAT was a Batman movie!

WIDE awake. Hyper. Gotsta be at work at 7 am, and I may be going back to the movies for round two afterward. Okay, rewind: worked for a minute this am, swam, napped, bought a sexy plum-colored tank but didn't buy the saffron Calvin Klein dress ($32!) cuz it didn't look quite right. Got four hardbacks for twenty bucks at the bargain bookstore ("Duma Key" for a DOLLAR!), had fish'n'chips at The Cricketers Arms, went to the movie. I was ticked we got a smaller theatre, but it was good- it got hella hot, but not unbearable, and I didn't have to deal with the migraine inducing THX the big 'uns usually crank up. As for "The Dark Knight"...... DAYUM. It's as good as you've heard. THAT was the Batman movie I expected and didn't get with "Batman Begins." It's rilly, rilly good, y'all- complicated, long, and this sibilant, tongue-flickery, mordant Joker...... dude, it's been a while since I heard that much inappropriate laughter from uncomfortable audience members, and that was kinda interesting. I do need to point out that this commercials-before-the-trailers thing has gone all kinds of Ourobouros when they show a tv commercial for "The Dark Knight" in the theatre before playing "The Dark Knight." That's just wrong. The movie's sweet, though- keep an eye out for the two shots of the Joker sans makeup- none of the reviews I've seen have mentioned it yet, and I'm kinda surprised, considering how important the event immediately following seems. You'll see! Ooooh, and the trailer for "Watchmen" is cool, cool, cool. Yeah, I may go again tomorrow.

Debauchery!

Nachos and ice cream and chick movies and gossip blogs, oh, my! It may be dreary outside, but I am doing as much vacationey stuff as possible indoors. Woo-hoo!

Running on empty

This girl is glad to be home. Going out last night with the work peeps was SO much fun, (except for those two horrible examples of modern manhood*), but I'm not nineteen anymore, and desperately need sleep. Gonna have a big chunk of time away from work this week, which is probably good. I'm so drained... sad and tired and emotionally zapped. At least I get to look forward to things maybe changing drastically within a few weeks- I'm ready to stop treading water and find some happy.

* SUNDAY POSTSCRIPT:
Now that I'm caught up on sleep, the two jerks story is actually kinda funny. Basically, you get a coupla drinks into me, and I'm dancin'. Not well, mind you, but very enthusiastically. Add a shot of Patron, and Lord, I get delusions of invincibility. Well. We walk into the first club (no, the second, but ten minutes at the first one hardly counts!), and one minute later this guy I'm calling The Weatherman trolls up. He's shortish-but-cute: brown hair, blue eyes, nice hands, but he's from New Jersey and has the jerky "I'm-all-that-and-you're-lucky-I-let-you-breathe-my-air" attitude a lot of those boys seem to cultivate (Seriously, who is telling these guys that being a complete douchebag is the way to find a sweet, pretty girl who will love, honor, respect, and nurse your grouchy ass when you're 80 and have Alzheimer's? WTF.). He keeps insisting I dance with him, and I won't, cause I'm mostly sober and he's a dick. We leave, go to a coupla other places, have a coupla more drinks, collect a bunch more friends, return a coupla hours later, and... well, The Weatherman wasn't a bad dancer, but I tend to take extreme umbrage when a total stranger tries to...er... check my temperature. So to speak. This is why I only wear skirts maybe twice a year-and it wasn't a very short skirt! So I basically RUN from his skanky ass and take the chance to chat up a cutie I'd spotted. We talk for a good ten minutes, it's going nicely, and his buddy starts pressing him to leave. I ask where they're headed next, and his buddy gives him The Look. Cutie blurts, "I gotta tell ya, I'm married." I said, "Oh. Well, have fun with your friends!" and made a beeline back to my peeps. GAH. This whole dating-in-Orlando scene... I dunno, maybe I'll stick with the bookstores.

Maybe diet pills are a bad idea

I just walked out of the second pair of shorts in two days. Like, stand up, take two steps, and BAM, my booty's in the wind. Funny, but not- thank God I'm off work, huh? My mom said I'd better start doing a tug-everything check before I leave the house. I think she's got a good idea there.

Sigh.

I'm miserably sad right now, but on the "Yay!" front, I bought a new swimsuit today after falling out the bottom of The Fat Tent while exiting the pool. The new one isn't amazing, but it's better!

Blargh

BAD mood. Stupid depression-toad hovering in the corners of my vision, frowning and going, "Bwaaaaaarp" every time I think of something I might want to do. The pool's closed, I don't get paid 'til tonight, and I'm not in the mood for a movie. I could get drunk and watch cartoons, but that's a bad idea. I've read everything I own at least twice, and am horribly upset that the only nearby used bookstore is moving way far away in a coupla weeks. I'm just... grouchy and frustrated today. At least Spongebob's coming on soon, cause "Yo Gabba Gabba" is TERRIBLE.

Wishin' and hopin'

It's late and getting later, and I am wi-yi-yide awake. Had a boring, quiet weekend. Got the house clean, though, in time for it almost to burn down yesterday- that was exciting- and now I'm up and chipper and don't have a damn thing to do. Well, there's not much on the list of things I feel like doing that I actually CAN do this time of night- hello, why else would I be blogging.

Been doing all these goofy career tests, getting all the same results, none of which do much for me. I have no idea what I want to do with myself, loads of ideas about what I don't want. Not very helpful.

On a happier note, I just finished a pretty good book. Liked her first, DESPISED her second, didn't read her third... and now her fourth turns out to be awright. Four bucks well-spent. Yay!

where are the axe murderers when you need them?

I'm back on drugs. Didn't even make it thru the appetizer before my neck spazzed. I'm sick of this. I hate feeling yucky when I DID something to get that way, so it's way worse now, when I didn't. I mean, if I'd had a wild night involving three strangers and a monkey and a French horn, I might not be able to admit what injured me, but at least I'd know. This... is just such frustrating CRAP.

Miami Beach STINKS!

Seriously, that was the smelliest town I've EVER been to. I used the restroom in two different places, and they were just horrifying. Lotta hoochies down there, too, even big girls who should've known better. Dan and I parked by a CSI: Miami van, which was just awesome OGP, even though they're different on the show, and saw "The Hulk" to kill time. It was... loud. I had to leave before the end, because my neck med's side effects include panic attacks, and I was having a little bit of a problem, but I don't think I missed much. I like Edward Norton a lot, but I wish his ego didn't screw up half his movies. He's amazing when he's acting instead of soapboxing, and this felt like the latter.

The Eddie Izzard show was... alright. After a small controversy when it was discovered that the row our bloody expensive tickets were for doesn't actually exist (and BOY were those some rude theatre employees), we ended up with good seats about twenty feet from the stage. Eddie's a handsome devil (he has the bluest eyes I've ever seen- hm... well, top three, anyway), and wore his usual jealousy-inducing shoes. He could've used a bit more eyeliner, but the cerise coat lining matching his shirt was quite nice. His tour is only halfway through, so the show is still a bit wonky. The beginning was good- he did very funny bits about playing "air violin" and dinosaurs in church, but... it mind-smelled like he was in a bad mood. It just wasn't as smart as he usually is... re-using the damn giraffes was one thing, but barf jokes?... from Eddie? Really? Come ON! I'm wondering if "The Riches" has affected his normal accent as well as his inclination to do other ones (he didn't do James Mason when he was God, or Sean Connery with the 'hashashins'!), and he was a bit... dickish about Americans, and not in his usual I'm-taking-the-piss kind of way. Maybe the miamismell (would that be a miasma? A miasmi?) had gotten to him, too. Oh, well- it was lovely to finally get to see him live.

My neck is a bit better, but I'm furious that ibuprofen is working after an eighty-five dollar doctor visit for meds that didn't help. I'm feeling very... resigned right now. Disliking yourself sucks, because after all, there's not much choice- you can't say, "You know, I think I'd rather be Carmen Miranda today." Besides, I'm out of fruit.

Remember when Mr Mackey was on drugs...

... and his head swelled up like a balloon? My neck is MESSED UP. It's been getting worse for two days, and now you can see visible lumps in the left side and down into my shoulder, and Dan says it's all bruisey looking up behind my ear, and under my chin's swollen up like mumps, and I'm dizzy, and I keep barfing. Freaky shit- I cannot afford it, but I'm going to the doctor first thing in the morning. I can't figure out how it could be this bad from sleepin' funny last week, but it IS, and it's gotta stop. I got on webmd, like an idiot, and got all freaked out cuz the symptom thingy said I could have meningitis or maybe an aneurysm, and BUMP THAT, I am going to see Eddie in Miami on Saturday if I have to go in a coffin! This is not cool, man...

in the rain

What is that thing, the opposite of deja vu- deja reve. Dreaming you're somewhere you've dreamt before. Left work early again today, got home before the storm. Took a massive dose of naproxen and fell asleep watching the rain pour through the tree outside my window. Awoke hearing Morrissey swoon through "Shoplifters of the World." You see, there's this house I live in that I've never been to while awake, and I'm always sad when I wake up after being there. I'm never quite sure if I dreamt that Jenny, or she's dreaming me.

My neck feels much better.

KILL ME.

If somebody would bash me on the head with a shovel, I'd be quite pleased. I slept on my neck funny a few nights back, and it's gotten progressively worse to the point of nauseating pain. Got off work six hours early, don't even care that I need the money cause I was so worried I'd get killed in traffic trying to look around without passing out. Drugs didnt work, icyhot hasn't worked, I need a neckectomy NOW.

But ooh, hey, I've lost 16.5 lbs now, so if I die of this at least I'll die smaller!

Woke up this morning

It's pretty much a requirement to be big on family when you're Southern. Sometimes I get wistful about being thirty, unmarried, and childless- this isn't what I planned on. But then I spend a day with the posse.... and when I leave I get in my car, and turn on music I don't have to explain the lyrics to, and drive to a quiet house where there are adult shows on tv and adult books (not that kind!) on the shelves, and I think, "You know, there are worse things...." After twelve years on my own, I can safely say that I really kinda like my life as it is. Can a girl be a confirmed bachelor? Hm... probly not 'til at least thirty-five.


I'm miserably tired, so used Eldest's Privelege today. Got my peeps into the AK, and now I get to take a nap and a looong hot shower and chill at the fancypants resort pool until time to take Caroline to MGM tonight. Feel bad for missing out on family time, but after yesterday's discovery that my middle sis is Going Through a Phase, and my ensuing difficulty keeping my temper (I feel like a jerk, but jeez, it was ridiculous!), they may have a better time without me. My ma's right- when you've got a 43-year age range, people are just not gonna want to do all the same stuff. Wish there were time to have done something with just my mom, but there's no way on such a short trip. Maybe next time. Christmas shopping or something. I'm glad to have seen them, glad to have a job with perks they can take advantage of, and amused that I'll be better able to point out plus-and-minuses to the people I book for work. I have a new key question for the big groups I book: whether they're Weekend Warriors, or people who go on vacation to relax. I have a feeling I'm gonna be able to help 'em plan much better options just based on that. Woo-hoo! Actually, I mean that- it's a major point of pride to be as helpful as possible so they'll have a nice trip. Yeah, I'm a dork.

Need...more...sleep!

This is not the best week to have a jacked-up sleep schedule. My peeps got into town today- got 'em checked into a nice room almost directly across the water from Cindy's castle, played at the pool, ate pretty good free food (well, they call it free- it's included with the club level), went to work for two hours, and now I need to crash and can't. The MK is open for 16 hours tomorrow, and I expect to be there for quite a few of 'em, then we've got the AK and MGM on Wednesday, plus a side excursion at some point so Biggest Little Sis can get in the rides at Epcot she missed last time.... I need to get bonked over the head asap, or I'm gonna be passing out on the dark rides. ARGH. Not gonna get to add to yesterday's post anytime soon, either- too busy, and still thinking over the elements of the "Eureka!" in question. NBD, it'll be there when I get to it, right?

Dating Tyler Durden

This may or may not end up a longer post later, but holy COW did I just have a moment of clarity. All the windows aligned and I am BOGGLED. In a good way. I think.

A pirate's life for me!

As dorky as being solitary-natured makes me feel sometimes, it can be a good thing when there's no-one around for company. I don't mind so much when I end up doing stuff by myself, and I can be selfish about doing exactly what I want. Went to the MK this morning for a check on traffic before next week's family visit. Shouldn't have worn flipflops (but they looked cute!) cause now my feet want to fall off, but other than that it was alright. Talked to some nice little kids, went on the rides I like best, rode the train for a bit, roamed back home. Now I'm debating whether to hit the pool- it was GROSS and scrungy yesterday, but the pool guy might've come by? Nothing else to do 'cept some dishes, and they can wait 'til after dark.

There's a Lyle Lovett song called "If I Had a Boat" that just exactly fits where my head is at today. Chilled out whether everyone else wants to let me be or not.

Boombastic, tell me fantastic

Something very unusual just happened. I woke up happy. Not worrying about my six-dollar paycheck, not sad about the nonsense intelligent men come up with, not moltogrosso about my weight. I can deal with money stuff, men ain't nuttin' but a hobby, and my weight is dropping steadily. I don't need fixing, I don't owe apologies- thank you very much, I'm rockin'! My mum and sisters will be here next week, and I'm really looking forward to that, and- don't tell anyone, it's just a thought, but.... I'm kind of, sort of thinking about considering getting back in school. Kinda. I'm tired of people giving me the "you're too smart to _______" speech, tired of working dead end jobs, and I hate never having finished my worthless degree when I'm still paying for it. So... maybe. I just looked outside, and it's beautiful, all I hafta do is decide whether to go to the AK or to the pool, or the pool and then maybe the MK for fireworks. I can do anything I want, without consulting anyone for input. I own myself again, and it's about time. So I'm cranking up the beach music, highdosing on caffeine, grinning from ear to ear. If ya wanna call me today, ya better be happy too.

(Later)
GUESS WHAT? I just put on my swimsuit (aka The Ugliest Garment Ever, aka The Fat Tent), and the top is loose! Like, trying-not-to-fall-out loose! I may have to buy another one this summer! YESSS!

Ernie's having another party!

It's 3 am, and I'm wiiiiide awake. I was headachy and nauseous and drained all day again, and my body pulled the plug on me at about 8, so I guess that's actually a pretty decent chunk of sleep. 'Sokay, I've got a lovely book (one of those "best-evers" that I try not to open too often), and a warm blanket- and I just checked my weight and discovered it's definitely slipped down to the next decade (I thought my shorts felt slidey!), which is pleasing/scary. Got no plans for the holiday today except chilling at the pool. Should be nice, if I'm not asleep again by lunchtime.

(Later)
"Margaret... could not concentrate on details... all demand some comment or response. It is impossible to see modern life steadily and see it whole, and she had chosen to see it whole. Mr. Wilcox saw steadily. He never bothered over the mysterious or the private.... Yet she liked being with him. He was not a rebuke, but a stimulus, and banished morbidity."

"He desired comradeship and affection, but he feared them, and she, who had taught herself only to desire, and could have clothed the struggle with beauty, held back, and hesitated with him."

What a great book.

When I said I'd give anything...

... to get rid of the horrifying weight I've put on, an attack of emotional bulimia REALLY wasn't what I had in mind. One nasty aspect of my weakness for certain types of guys is an inability to stay nourished when the bullshit starts. When I had the first of several extremely ugly splits with the cross-dressing redneck, I lost 20 lbs in SIX DAYS, while drinking beer and eating Doritos with onion dip every night. (I briefly considered whether I might've caught something from one of his yard dogs- he had six, any of whom probably woulda been a better BF). I'm beginning to wonder if this bout is gonna be equally extreme. Of course, the measure of my hopelessness re: losing 58 pounds can be taken from the fact that I kinda wouldn't mind if this were a bad bout. I figure, at least I'm not confused by what's happening, I saw this train coming and chose not to step out of the way. Of course it hurts like a bastard, but I've just gotta wade through the sad stuff. I'm not drinking- hiding from this pain won't help, and will drag the process out unnecessarily- but a few hours (days, weeks) of unconsciousness seems tempting when I allow myself to stop analyzing and just feel. So I'm not doing much feeling. I'm analyzing the non-emotional stuff (with a little help...etc ) to pieces and watching as much Spongebob as possible. And I've lost six or eight pounds in the past two days. It's awfully nice to see my cheekbones again- and, hell, I might as well LOOK good if I can't FEEL good, right?

Insomnia!

I am so freakin' tired. Got a couple hours' sleep after the work thing last night, but I need about twelve more to get my head back to normal. Working a weird split day, so there's at least the chance of naptime later. I'm tired of thinking. I'm REALLY tired of thinking. Damn squirrels (both kinds).

Friday night dinner and a show isn't always an interesting proposition

It's kind of a bummer when you get free food and it turns out to be worth exactly what you paid. But fireworks are cool, I guess.

This old house

I swear, I HATE maintenance men. This is the second day I've waited around the house for them to show up- and yesterday was SO GORGEOUS- and they haven't bothered. The main one even stopped in late yesterday to apologize (and stare at my boobs) and promised they'd be here to re-do the vinyl today, and have they come by? Of course not. Well, tomorrow I'm doing whatever I please, and if it interferes with their hectic schedule of not keeping appointments, that's just too freakin' bad!

(5 minutes later)
I'll be darned, they just got here. I should've posted earlier.

(20 minutes later)
Y'know, the new vinyl's a nicer color... that's kinda cool.

(2 hours later)
DAMN IT, you can totally see a slant in the line of squares alongside the bathtub. And this guy wasn't nearly as neat with his caulk as Borat was. I coulda done better, and I'm not good with caulk AT ALL. (stop that snickering!) But hey, at least I can stop envisioning the floor collapsing while I'm eyebrow deep in soap and singing "American Girl" and plummeting downstairs to land in the neighbors' john, terrifying their sweet little daughter (we recently had the best conversation EVER about why blowing bubbles is awesome) and putting her off Tom Petty forever. It's always nice to scratch a potential catastrophe off the list. So, like, bonus! Next I think I'm'a watch me a zombie movie.

Chuck Norris doesn't go hunting. He goes killing.

Yay for Swedish pop and insomnia! Woke up, WIDE-ass awake, forty minutes ago, with "Young Folks" blaring in my head. At least that's a song that makes me smile, unlike last time when it was "Night of the Living Baseheads" and my dreams had involved the Crips and werewolves and a demon baby.

It's not so much that I mind being alone in the house at night as I dislike waking up and realizing that either a.) I'm alone, or b.) I slept through the front door opening, closing, and locking, with the attendant tiptoeing around, which kinda reminds me of that Sesame Street where Bert is trying to sleep and Ernie's sheep-counting somehow devolves into this huge house party with sheep and a band and mimes and firetrucks and Lord knows what else. Dang, which song was it in that sketch?

One weird thing about living in 'the big city' is animal behavior. The big construction lights over on the bridge make the birds FREAK OUT tweetering from midnight 'til three, like some kind of damn X-and-Dust-Brothers-fueled nest party and then they fall asleep and I usually don't hear 'em again 'til like 10, and I get all weirded out in the back of my head about zombies and "Silent Spring" and stuff like that. I mean, it's coming up on dawn now- those little buggers should be singing their heads off, but instead they're hiding out, sleeping off the rave.

I hope it's sunny today. I wanna go do my Benjamin Braddock impersonation. Well, except for the Mrs. Robinson part- somehow I don't think it's gonna be that kind of day. Then again, if anyone feels like volunteering.....

The Volstead Act, the Golden Rule, and random irritating intangibles

I'm not a particularly moral person. I try to be "nice," and any injustice infuriates me, but I don't put in a whole lot of time worrying about ethics as, like, a topic of serious thought.
Got thrown into a situation yesterday where an acquaintance assumed I'd "be cool," and...well... I wasn't "cool." Upon hearing the story this morning, a buddy who knows everyone involved basically implied I'd been an asshole to turn this guy in when it's possible he'll get fired. I guess that's why I have this very After-School-Special-flashbacky uncomfortable feeling about the situation. My best friend calls me "the Zen Master of CYA," and he's got a damn good point. I frequently question my own motives, and it's a tough call. Was I a rat fink because I'm not risking losing my job for some jackass, because the jackass assumed without asking that I'd condone his behavior, or because his actions were inexcusable at a work function and just generally immoral bullshit? All of the above? And does it really matter, anyway?
I kinda think it does.

Life on Mars?

Hey, people. So I woke up thinking 'I'm not in the mood to be me today.' Long night, weird dreams, foul headspace. Things are really f'ing with me. There's a lot of stuff getting thrown at me that I don't want, and don't want to deal with, and there's no chance of getting the three things I do want, (which is just as well, really) and I just realized nobody's going to know what I'm talking about, and I don't care. I'm just kinda over dealing with my life right now. I need to do some thinkun'. So I'm gonna hop in the car and disappear for a minute- if you get the voice mail, leave a message and I'll call you when I'm no longer in screaming-Dalek-mode.

Let's do the newcartimewarp agaaaaain!

HAPPYHAPPY ME-OH!! I got the tardis-blue Kia. It's absolutely adorable- and I got it at a LOT less interest than it initially woulda been, like seven percent less. And they gave me seven hundred and fifty dollars for my POS Camry in trade-in, even after I saw two of the cute appraiser boys standing there and laughing at it! YAYYYYYY!

Here are the first twenty songs my iPod played in the new car, once I got the stupid adapter working properly:
The Who - Eminence Front
Front 242 - Headhunter
Johnny Cash - Cocaine Blues
Violent Femmes - American Music
Danny Elfman - This Is Halloween
JS Bach - Variation 12
Depeche Mode - Policy of Truth
Billie Holiday - The Mood I'm In
Jethro Tull - Aqualung
Louis Armstrong - Lovely Weather We're Having
Doctor Hook - Cover of the Rolling Stone
George Harrison - While My Guitar Gently Weeps
Neil Diamond - Solitary Man
Blue Oyster Cult - Burnin' For You
Depeche Mode - Little 15
The Kinks - Ya Really Got Me
George Michael - Father Figure
Aerosmith - Dream On
The Beatles - Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da
Dwight Yoakam - Crazy Little Thing Called Love

(You know what's weird about that list? I didn't tell it to play classic rock.)

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

The entire concept of "credit" is such a friggin' scam. I've been looking at car stuff, figured I might as well bite the bullet and find out exactly how much lower the nonsense with the student loan nazis has driven my credit score, and- get this- because I couldn't confirm the name of the new bastards the SLN's sold my loans to (without, y'know, telling me or anything) from a multiple choice list of ACRONYMS, Experian blocked my access to my own credit report. Of course, if I download, fill out, print, and mail in their looooong form with copies of all my id and my "10-digit PIN code" (WHAT? WHAT PIN code?!!? Does everybody have one and I was out sick that day?), they'll consider mailing me the number in about 3-6 weeks. All this because I don't know the name of a company I never did business with! Please, spare me the lectures about being a responsible consumer- my point is, if you don't start the game knowing the rules (and I didn't) the system is set up to fuck you for life, and it makes me really frustrated and angry and depressed. C'mon, I just want a decent car without having to do anything illegal to get it. Then again, that would probably be less complicated.

(Later)
Realized I've never given Robert Piguet's Baghari a proper try since the large sample came, so I piled it on. Feeling much better now. Still pissed, but I smell terrific!

(Even later)
The Baghari's turned overwhelming in this hot weather- getting headachy- but it is a good scent overall. Watching "Blacula" in between family phone calls- it's a big weird day for us. Yay for divorces!

(Way, way later)
"Blacula" was GREAT! No, seriously, it's actually a good movie! Y'all should all go rent it right now.

Where's my money, Uncle?

If the tax bucks will just roll on into the bank, I've got two decently priced, low-mileage cars to go look at on Thursday (a TARDIS-blue Kia and a gold Saturn Ion, both 2007). Y'all cross your fingers- it'd be such a friggin' Murphy if the Camry were to blow me up now that I'm probly buying an improvement within the week- and I am ready-freddy to finally have a decent car again!

Fendi, Fendi, Fendi!

Well, I'm happy/pissed on the sniffa front: I'm furious that some lucky cow outbid me at the last possible moment for that cheap-OH Badgley Mischka last night- she snuck in to win literally 8 seconds from Game Over- but am v. happy that my Fendi Theorema came today. Weirdly, it's labeled Theorema "Leggero" - which I had assumed was the same as regular FT, since I have NEVER seen a review or a mention of a "light" flanker on any of the major perfume sites. Oops, I think. I'm kinda digging this "Leggero" - my one worry with the regular was that it might be overpowering in hot weather, and this does seem lighter... it's not less Christmas-y, but..... it smells like opening beautiful spicy prezzies at the beach. It's awfully good.... but I'm still mad at that sneaky eBay ho, and thinkun' I might do best to wait post-Mother's-day to bid on Badgley again.

The second-string plumber just left. He was very sweet and earnest, and I was DYING trying not to think of how like Borat he sounded. His verdict was that I can shower TOMORROW MORNING, "Around seven or eight- you will wait, yeah?" SHITSHITSHIT. SHIT! I smell like nachos, dammit! EEEUUUUWWW!!! He was really superdupernice, and covered the counter with a tarp, which the primary (sleazy, forward) plumber yesterday didn't bother to do- hence my need to buy a new toothbrush (its covered in sawdust!) But, dammit.... I feel dirty!

PS: I broke down and bought another record from iTunes. The Scissor Sisters album "Ta-Dah" is GREAT. If you like Erasure or the BeeGees or ABBA (ironically or not) or if dance music just generally makes you grin, download it NOW.

Holy crap!

1) The plumber actually showed up! Damn, I KNEW I shoulda washed my hair earlier. No tub for a day or so = not fun.

2) The Eddie Izzard tickets came, and they're just beeyootyful. I may sleep with them.

3) "Children of Men" is a damn good movie, but I feel like a doofus for not recognizing Michael Caine (he's up there with Sean Connery in the Ridiculously Hot Old Guys category).

4) I'm sniffin' Bond No 9's New Haarlem today. Started pretty, faded to popcorn, still smells like it 4 hours in. Dan and the plumber (this is a very... er... forward sort of plumber) both like it. It's better than Broadway Nite, which I said- and Dan agreed- smelled like prossies, but not nearly enough better to be the delicious HG I hope to find. My insanely cheap full bottle of Fendi Theorema should arrive today/tomorrow, and I'm in the bidding for cheap-OH Badgley Mischka, so at least I won't smell BORING for the forseeable future. :)

Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang

So I'm trying to watch this movie, but I think the butt-itch factor is getting so high I'm gonna have to give up on it for a while. Harry (Robert Downey, Jr) just discovered this broad he and Gay (Val Kilmer) found dead (and whom Gay then accidentally shot) earlier in the evening, only now she's in Harry's shower stall, and he accidentally peed on the corpse. Oh, dear. Never mind the prior boobgrabbingmisunderstanding between Harry and his high-school sweetheart. I don't mind the complication, but I'm starting to wish someone would kill Harry's dumb ass so I can stop squirming through his various humiliations. It's not as painful as watching Ben Stiller, but pretty close. Meh. Gonna see if there's anything else on.

(Later)
Well, "Eastern Promises" is great, and "Constantine" is great fun, so two outta three worked. Not a bad average.

I AM the Emperor Fabulous!

Guess who gets to see Eddie Izzard in Miami on June 14th? MEMEMEMEMEMEME!! I got sweeeeet seats six rows from the stage, too. Hell, yeah!

I can't believe I'm anxious to go to work.

Yeah, I'm pretty much bored off my ass. Woke up at insanely-early-o'clock, went and bought Commits- I swear, eventually I'll wean off of 'em, but anything's better than praying to Joe Camel- talked to my mom, and did some housecleaning. Now I'm thinking about attacking my iTunes list, but I am so not feeling like digging through 1500 songs for title-and-artist misspellings and album covers and stuff.

Would it be incredibly lazy and wasteful of me to buy a new shower curtain? I can't get the damn thing clean, and it's kinda grossing me out.

This is ridiculous. Maybe I should start doing recreational drugs- don't they take up a lot of time? *sigh* Maybe I'll go to the usedbookstore.

53 reasons I need a new car

I've been seriously debating the plusandminuses of eating disorders, but overall I think the best solution to my nonsmoking weight gain is to buy a car. I have to do it soon, before my Camry explodes in the middle of Kirkman causing a multiple car pileup and negating the need to choose between planting and cremation. If I have a car payment, that's less money to spend on cheeseburgers, and a new car would mean I can GO PLACES, like the beach and home to see my family, so I'd be out doing stuff instead of sitting on my booty wanting to do stuff.

I'm still sniffin' samples, trying to pick a new perfume (or two, or eight). Haven't decided fo' sho' yet, but am currently DIGGING my Fendi Theorema sample- of COURSE, as it's discontinued and expensive- which just arrived today. It's freaking delicious, like oranges and cloves and cinnamon. It smells like Christmas. Maybe not right for hot weather down here, but then again, I keep sniffing my wrist and making growly noises, so.... hm. My top choices so far seem to mostly be foody scents, maybe cause I've had loads of.. er.. social success when I smelled vaguely of cookies, but I'm still working out which ones smell like ME, not like some .alt version I wish I were. My faves so far:

Guerlain Iris Ganache (flowers on creme brulee!)
Badgley Mischka (not my absolute fave, but it's getting mad compliments)
Chanel Coco (incense-y, far more sophisticated than I am, but classic and beautiful)
Lolita Lempicka L (not fancy, just pretty. Perfect for summer)
Hermes Hermessences Ambre Narguile (a warm blanket of amber and honey. If it just had a *tiny* dash of sexy, I'd own a bottle already)

Got a couple more on the way, a couple on the to-do list, and a couple to retry- Guerlain Mitsouko smelled amazing once, then like Granny's catbox once, so it gets a third try... but on my day off. Annick Goutal Sables I'm still debating, cause I can't figure out why something that smells just exactly like peppered maple syrup makes me happy every time I sniff it.

So I put in to get off work early today just cause I could, not cause I expected it to happen. With the lame-o closing schedule I have now, it's unusual to get a chance to bail, but today it slowed down and just never picked back up. Fine by me, it had been nothing but travel agents adjusting existing reservations (i.e., no money for me!) and my work buddy had the day off, so I was grumpy and bored.... but now I'm home, and I really don't have a damn thing to do except read, watch tv, clean house, or go to Target. Bo-ring. I should at least be using my pass to go to a famous expensive theme park... but I'm edgy about explosions while driving over there. Yep, it's time to buy a car!

Mmmmm, bacon

So Dan and I went to Chili's on I Drive for dinner last night. Man... only in Touristland do you have to wait for a two-top on a Monday. I was SO ready to try those new cheeseburgers they've been pimping all over the tv, with the porny lookin' bacon? Well, yeah... I got two bites in, started feeling like a "Ren & Stimpy" I saw in the wayback ("Chew!.......Chew!.......Chew!") and said, "Jeez, babe, it's like I'm trying to floss with a tendon!" Dan nearly choked with grossedoutness, so I gave him a sample. Three "CHEW!s" later, his eyes widened and he started making snorky laughing sounds, swallowed, and said, "It IS like flossing with a tendon!" and I said, "Yep. And it's not even a really baconflavored one. It's Soylent Pig."

Come to think of it, I have another bacon cheeseburger related story- can you tell I'm off my diet again? So I went to BK after work the other night, ordered my BCB and Cheezy Taters, waited 7 minutes in the drive thru (this is a longer time than it sounds like when your car is as f-ed up as mine). When the car in front of me at the window gave up and left I pulled up, waited another 3, 4 minutes. FINALLY, a dorky, normal looking dude about my own age, wearing a drivethru headset, glanced out the drive-thru window, sighed, opened the (I cannot emphasize this enough) drive-thru window, and said, "Yes?" I waited, but he just looked at me, bored. I said, "Um, if you don't mind, I'd like to pick up the food I ordered." He stared out for a moment, sighed, then poked at his touch screen about nineteen times, said, "BCB and Taters?" I said, "Yep," and he handed 'em over. I had to flap a fiver at him after the food handoff, but he looked so exhausted at the prospect of needing to render change I felt guilty for paying for, like, days. Pretty good burger, though