Tuesday, Oct. 17, 2006 - 11:41 a.m.

sleeping beauty

Good grief, it's been DAYS since I posted.

Because I'm presently obsessed with the idea of taking a nap, I thought I'd see what the good folks at "Google Images" would offer up in response to the search term Sleeping Beauty

I'm not a fan of Disney cartoons, but find the disney adaption of the fairy tale tolerable, thanks in large part to the respectful adaptation/use of Tchaikowsky's waltz and Eleanor Audley's killer performance as Maleficent's voice.

But I digress.

I can only assume that this photo was staged, because I have a hard time believing that any adult, even Norma Jean Dougherty looks so peaceful and lovely while asleep.

I've seen photos of myself asleep - when my overexerted facial muscles actually relax, I look dead. A dead person with a double chin that is. For that reason, and other reasons having to do with spiders, centepedes, and boogey men, I frequently sleep with my head buried between pillows. I become a lump in the bed for my pets to prop themselves up on.

I usually wear dumpy clothing (frequently involving cartoon characters, paint splatters or mismatched plaid) to bed, and have recently taken to dragging my favorite fuzzy robe along with me. When it's freaking cold (which isn't rare for the mid-west) I wear legwarmers to bed because they don't pinch my ankles and oddly do a superior job of keeping my feet warm through the night. I'm not so talented in the "strong circulation" category of health, I've startled more than one nurse with my low blood pressure - which is ironic considering the short hissy fits Mr. Hubby, Mr. Lee and others endure on a fairly regular basis.

Yeah, I'd love to be racy and suggest that I'm a glamourous looking nekkid slumberer, but that's really not the case . . . I look more like a wasted-tired 7 -or- 70 year old with extremely entertaining bedhead.

At the risk of seeming nosy, I'll ask . . .
have your pyjamas changed since you were a kid?



Friday, Oct. 13, 2006 - 4:26 p.m.

sigh of relief

I am briefly less busy - for the first time in over a week - and it feels fantastic. Monday at work is going to be U-G-L-Y "You ain't got no alabi" (woot, brief return to 4th grade chearleading) because I get to catch up on all my "lower priority" projects, in additon to finishing up another nasty task.

All of this would be cool if I were saving the whales or some hippie crap like that, but the nature of my occupation is more along the lines of supporting privilaged people; some of my coworkers are intellectually *brilliant*, others well . . . haven't mastered proper grammar, and probably won't get hit with the smart stick any time soon. Makes for a frustrating situation if you're an egotistical brat like me, don't ya know . . .

ANYWAY, I actually began this post with the intent to thank the people who have continued to stop by even though I haven't had the time to visit their blogs and leave comments. Damn, you've got some fantastic taste!

I'll be away from computers most of the weekend, then I'm back to treading water at the deep end of the pool for a few days, but we'll get back to your regularly scheduled snarkdom very soon.

Have a fantastic weekend, take a little time to rest, and be sure to do something stoooooopidly fun.



Friday, Oct. 13, 2006 - 9:14 a.m.

I'm surrounded by frikin idiots

Sad but true.

border = 0>

There are individuals in my life that couldn't find their asses with both hands.

Does this attitude/discovery have anything to do with me being hella-busy at work, sleep-deprived, waiting on a "we have excellent taste and have decided to hire you" phone call, trying to ignore the beginnings of a cold, crap I need to fix up my car (oil change, replace lightbulbs, re-hang rear-view mirror) before driving all over BFE with my dog (crap, why did I bother vacuuming?) and my parents (do I have the energy to keep up if they're hyper?) this weekend, gee I hope I don't hurt their feelings if I decide to drive back home Saturday night 'cause I think getting freaking smashed drunk sounds great, do I really want Suki pulling at her leash on Saturday why don't I have the balls to make her wear her pinch collar, where did her excellent manners go anyway, can I afford to leave town to visit my bee-yoo-tee-ful sister and all my furry nephews and nieces, oh crap I haven't talked to my human nephews in weeks - are they really as bored with me as they sound on the phone? etc. ETC. etc. With a dash of acne, dry skin, and inflammed wrists.

um, nooooooooooooo of course none of the above has anything to do with my sunny disposition!!

That said (typed, whatever) I must return to the grind.

wait . . . I've gotta bitch just a bit more . . .

Also, why is it the morning my kitty-bathroom-attendant is Zachary (adorable yet hunting-impaired) instead of Michael (badass ninja protector) a centepede has the balls to slither right past my feet while I'm "stuck on the throne" so to speak? Mikey would have at minimum paralyzed the fucker, Zachary started purring and just watched attentively as I stomped my feet in an effort to get the tiny prehistoric nightmare to go away. It ran into a heating vent, so now I'll feel compelled to carefully watch the heating vent rather than read or look at catalogs next time I'm throne-bound.

And now you know too much.

And I really have to haul arse and save a corner of the universe from mayhem.



Tuesday, Oct. 10, 2006 - 5:47 p.m.

Elvis Wednesday : the office

My apologies folks, I'm not quite done ranting about being busy at the office, and rather than get stuck in rush hour traffic, I thought I'd stick around after hours and post my "Elvis Wednesday" early in case I don't have time for it tomorrow.

The best idea my mind (now feeble from uber-multitasking, papershuffling and lots of yakkedy blah blah) could come up with was:
"I wonder what Elvis' office looks like?"

This is where I'm supoosed to come up with something charming and historically accurate in order to round out the visual experience, and all I can think of is EeeeeeeeeewwwwwwwwwwW

I can almost smell the dampness behind the panel walls, scent of stale ink, musty paperwork, and cigar butts.
. . .
. . .
. . .
I'm assuming you stopped by with higher expectations than what I've presented to you, so I'll tack on an image more worthy of an Elvis Wednesday posting.

not shabby!



previous - next


most recent entry

previous entries

random entry

my (neglected) webiste


the usual hecklers:


Alfred's Mom




take a look:

Stories of Strength & Courage

hosted by DiaryLand.com