Tuesday, Oct. 10, 2006 - 2:14 p.m.

dress for success

Freaking shit I'm busy. As in "this bites" level of busy. Eating lunch at my desk kind of busy. Sticking my tounge out at my coworkers (and meaning it) kind of busy. Saying "I'll get it worked out" when I have no iota of a clue how I'll work anything out because I'm (yeah this is getting repetitive) BUSY.

Props to Mr. Hubby for taking care of Suki-pup over lunch both yesterday and today!!

The point of this post?
1) I hope to regain my sanity by ignoring my tasks for ten minutes.
2) I have to blab just a tiny bit about my most recent interview:

I showed up wearing practically the same outfit as one of the women interviewing me, and she asked/told me twice "let us know if you're not interested in this job".

I like to think that means "you're our most qualified applicant and we adore you". It might mean "this job is really boring, maybe you should stay at your lower paying cubicle job", but I doubt that.

Also? I'd have an OFFICE. With a DOOR.
No window, but I'm window-less already, so I think I can compentate by bringing most of my current office jungle (nine plants and a fish) along with me.

Please keep your fingers crossed for me, this would be oh-so-cool.



Monday, Oct. 09, 2006 - 8:45 a.m.

possible hiatus this week

Welcome back to the work week everybody. I hope your coffee is strong and tasty, your boss is out of town, and your technology is behaving.

I've got a very busy week ahead of me, and think it'd be best if I briefly forgot that the internet exists.

Which begs the question, what would you do with the time you usually spend on the internet, if the internet briefly ceased to exist?



Thursday, Oct. 05, 2006 - 1:59 p.m.

who is Mr. Lee?

Once upon a time called six years ago, I lived with he-who-would-become Mr. Hubby and Mr. Lee. Our rental home was over 100 years old (quite literaly falling apart) and was a spooky place - the structure itself seemed to be in a grumpy mood. Even collectively, we made very little money, so other than Mr. Lee's odd artwork, and then-modern computer, the house was full of thrift-store-ish, poor-college-student-ish stuff. To complete the scene, we had no air conditioning, a couch on the front porch and a few insane cats running around.

Although our environment was honkified and a little decrepid, our lives and schedules were hecktic and our nerves were a bit frayed, we had a great time living together, much to the amusement (and bafflement) of our families and friends.

These days? Mr. Hubby and I live in our house, Mr. Lee lives nearby.
If he's not at work or sleeping, it's likely he's at our house.

Depending on the moment, Mr. Lee could be described as being my bitch, but there are times that I'm definately his bitch; he knows he can show up at my house at any hour and be given food, an audience for a rant-fest, a comfy place to sleep or company for a hike or shopping trip.

On occasion, my friends have refered to Mr. Lee as my "Spare Husband" or "Second Husband". Mr. Hubby laughs as both Mr. Lee and I convulse with horror and say things like "he/she just sucks slightly less than everyone else, that's the only reason we hang out".

I'm not entirely philanthropic, I do more than my share of asking for/demanding help around the house, and have been known to throw a bitch fit or three on occasion. Mr. Lee is always an (irritatingly) good sport about it, and laughs at/mocks me until I calm down.

In short, the three of us have been hella-poor and happily living together,
now we're still-pretty-poor and happily hanging out all the time.

Oh, and I really should mention, Mr. Lee thinks he's funny.



Thursday, Oct. 05, 2006 - 8:52 a.m.

Thursday? Woot!

Another busy day in the neighborhood here, so I don't have the spare time to rant and rave, lucky you.

I was considering implementing a "Thursday Theme" of some sort in the future, dirty limericks or something useful like that . . . any suggestions?

Without further delay, I'm happy to divert your attention to the fantastic writers at DadCentric for a dose of testosterone. Gotta admit it's been pretty frilly and whiny around here lately, so it's time for the pendulum to swing the other direction. I dare you to watch
the Muppets performing N.W.A.'s "Fuck the Police"

p.s. To celebrate our 3rd wedding anniversary, Mr. Hubby and I watched hours and hours of Reno911 season 3 for the first time (stupid cheap cable!) and ate chinese take-out. Bliss



Wednesday, Oct. 04, 2006 - 10:19 a.m.

double feature Elvis Wednesday

The Associate Press tells us:

'Flying Elvis' suffers broken pelvis

BROWNING, Mont. - A "Flying Elvis" suffered a broken pelvis during the grand opening of the Glacier Peaks Casino here. Paul Moran is a member of The Flying Elvi, a 10-member skydiving team made up of Elvis Presley impersonators, who were hired to parachute into the parking lot at the casino Friday.

Other members of the troupe said the Las Vegas man apparently misjudged the landing and hit the ground at 50 mph.

"I talked to his family (Monday) and they said he is doing well, but he did break his pelvis," said Gary Green, casino manager.

Moran was taken to the Blackfeet Community Hospital and then flown to Harborview Medical Center in Seattle, where he is listed in serious condition in the intensive care unit.

For those of you with short term short term memory issues issues, I'll point out that we've already met the Flying Elvis Parachute Troop . Please excuse my lazy formatting and scroll to the bottom of the page to see the blog entry.



Wednesday, Oct. 04, 2006 - 9:21 a.m.

What were you doing three years ago today?

Elvis Presley married Priscilla Anne Beaulieu on May 1st, 1967;
they were divorced on October 9th, 1973.

I'll leave it to the historians to tell you more than that, I just needed an excuse to post this photo - Woo!
Who was their tailor anyway?

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Happy Anniversary, Mr. Hubby! Sometimes I'm baffled that we've been together more than seven years - it feels like I met you yesterday, it feels like I met you decades ago.

Three years ago today we were married by a priest who kept calling you "Andrew".
Let's find this "Andrew" guy and make him clean the house. It's his turn!



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