Playing secretary for the moment at work, blogging on what is actually the slowest machine in the world. Even slower than the lumber dinosaur at home.
Just got the Franz Ferdinand album, at Clare's insistence, and it rocks soundly. The best album I've heard in a while. Amendment: Clare does not remember telling me to buy it but I remember her telling me it was good. Which is practically telling me to buy it.
Contrary to my last posting, Andy is a little crazy but I like him that way. I'm not shipping him off to California.
Okay, the phones are ringing. Someone has to answer them.
Fridays are pretty busy in a social service department. Everyone calls in with an emergency, it can't possibly wait for Monday, need medication today, and so on. And the first line of abuse is the person answering the phones. At least I only have to do this for an hour before the next poor slobe else takes the next shift.
Friday, September 17, 2004
Thursday, September 16, 2004
If you had a super power, what would it be?
Andy has always said it would be the power to give other people super powers. Every one who hears this nods their headand thinks, "He's really clever."
In a conversation this morning, Andy finished the thought by adding, "I'd give you a new supr power every week. Then I'd build a titanium flying skull with tenacle and lasers in the eyes and you'd get to try and stop me."
Try and stop you?
"Every week. And I'd call the flying skull Fancy."
Fancy.
"Yep. What's that in the garage? Ohmigod, that's Fancy!" And then he does the crazy giggle thing that makes me wonder: when Andy does actually go insane, how will I be able to tell?
Oh, and links proided curtesy of Omouse. She's awesome with the mad hack/html skills. Me, woefully illiterate. If Omouse is reading this, I'd also like a tag board. But that can be a Christmas present.
Mel
In a conversation this morning, Andy finished the thought by adding, "I'd give you a new supr power every week. Then I'd build a titanium flying skull with tenacle and lasers in the eyes and you'd get to try and stop me."
Try and stop you?
"Every week. And I'd call the flying skull Fancy."
Fancy.
"Yep. What's that in the garage? Ohmigod, that's Fancy!" And then he does the crazy giggle thing that makes me wonder: when Andy does actually go insane, how will I be able to tell?
Oh, and links proided curtesy of Omouse. She's awesome with the mad hack/html skills. Me, woefully illiterate. If Omouse is reading this, I'd also like a tag board. But that can be a Christmas present.
Mel
Tuesday, September 14, 2004
I'm not very good at this writing everyday thing. Bad news. Need to start getting into shape for Nanowrimo. I know, it's two months off, but I'm thinking about it. Having a plan of attack is the most important thing when you dare to write a work of outstanding quality and insight, a veritable monument in literature, in a month. Okay, when you dare to commit 50k words arrange in such an order that it is coherent and resembles a story...that's pretty tough stuff.
Today...aced tickets to see Micheal Moore speak next week in Philly. Camden, actually. Just across the river in New Jerwey, it's Philly East. Tickets were only $6. Cool. I enjoy his documentaries. Mostly, I enjoy the way he speaks his mind, even when it's not popular and the entire audience at the Academy Awards is booing.
Sunday afternoon I noticed a new feature on the Andy. He's sitting in the big yellow chair in the living room, tv on, and I walk in saying something or other. He says, "I'm asleep."
"Really? You're asleep?" Andy has been known to sleep with his eyes open and hold coherent conversations. Never remembers any of it, mind you, but at the time you can't tell.
"I'm asleep," he repeats. Must be asleep.
I go to putz around the kitchen, make a little din-din and I hear him shout, "I'm asleep!"
Great, the shouting that he's asleep whilst asleep: another great feature for the Andy. And the snoring...It's a wonder I get any sleep at all. I'm always dead tired in the morning. Marriage is really cool on the whole, but some bits really suck. Mostly the bits that suck revolve around the fact that I can not share a blanket and Andy snores. Still better than a poke in the eye, though.
Another day, another great adventure.
Today...aced tickets to see Micheal Moore speak next week in Philly. Camden, actually. Just across the river in New Jerwey, it's Philly East. Tickets were only $6. Cool. I enjoy his documentaries. Mostly, I enjoy the way he speaks his mind, even when it's not popular and the entire audience at the Academy Awards is booing.
Sunday afternoon I noticed a new feature on the Andy. He's sitting in the big yellow chair in the living room, tv on, and I walk in saying something or other. He says, "I'm asleep."
"Really? You're asleep?" Andy has been known to sleep with his eyes open and hold coherent conversations. Never remembers any of it, mind you, but at the time you can't tell.
"I'm asleep," he repeats. Must be asleep.
I go to putz around the kitchen, make a little din-din and I hear him shout, "I'm asleep!"
Great, the shouting that he's asleep whilst asleep: another great feature for the Andy. And the snoring...It's a wonder I get any sleep at all. I'm always dead tired in the morning. Marriage is really cool on the whole, but some bits really suck. Mostly the bits that suck revolve around the fact that I can not share a blanket and Andy snores. Still better than a poke in the eye, though.
Another day, another great adventure.
Friday, September 10, 2004
The clip on the shifter cable was broken! So the car didn't know what gear it was in and wouldn't start because it will only start in Park.
Clark's all fixed and I can pick him up after work. Happy happy joy joy...
Mostly I'm happy because there was an actual problem and it was not user error. :) And I'm also happy that Andy and I got the warrenty and this is covered.
Okay, drama over.
Clark's all fixed and I can pick him up after work. Happy happy joy joy...
Mostly I'm happy because there was an actual problem and it was not user error. :) And I'm also happy that Andy and I got the warrenty and this is covered.
Okay, drama over.
Quite possibly the worst day ever.
I didn't get a chance to post last night mainly because I was tired and it takes just about five minutes too long for my computer to turn on, log on, and log in, etc.
Yesterday, at 2.30 in the afternoon, my shiny new car died. Just died. I put the key in and the ignition would not turn over. Nothing. Something similar happened to Andy a few days ago. I regret now that I told him he was crazy. But when I came out to look at the car that wouldn't start, it started for me. And I promptly forgot the incident. Until it didn't start for me. Remembering this, I left the car alone and took a little walk down the street to a shoe store. I came back 30 minutes later. Nothing. The engine would not turn over. No sounds, no clicking, nothing.
So I was stuck at the parking lot of the Bennigans, on the Boulevard in Philly. Could have been worse. At least I was not in the hood or the ghetto. (How white do I sound when I type that?)
So I called road side assit. Cancelled my home visit. Left a rambly message for my boss explaining why I stopped working at 3. And I was in tears because my brand new car with 493 miles on it is a price of crap.
The tow truck came in an hour. By 4.30 I was at the dealership, describing the problem, and severly pissed that my brand new car left me stuck at the side of the road. In a parking lot, actually. For all the oil leaks and constant repairs, my Neon never abandoned me.
So now I have a loaner with "McCafferty's Service Vehicle" emblazoned on the sides. It's rather tacky, actually. And while it is nice the dealership provided me with a loaner, I wouldn't want to advertise that the cars sold at my dealership break down. Subtly, I think, is needed.
Here's the kicker: the mechanic called. This morning the car started just fine, like yesterday never ever happened. Punk car. I've been so upset, I forgot to mention i named the car Clark. Punk ass Clark.
After convincing the mechanic that I'm not a silly woman, and yes the gear was in park, the car did not start through no fault of my own, he's going to run "tests". So we'll hear about it in a few hours.
I didn't get a chance to post last night mainly because I was tired and it takes just about five minutes too long for my computer to turn on, log on, and log in, etc.
Yesterday, at 2.30 in the afternoon, my shiny new car died. Just died. I put the key in and the ignition would not turn over. Nothing. Something similar happened to Andy a few days ago. I regret now that I told him he was crazy. But when I came out to look at the car that wouldn't start, it started for me. And I promptly forgot the incident. Until it didn't start for me. Remembering this, I left the car alone and took a little walk down the street to a shoe store. I came back 30 minutes later. Nothing. The engine would not turn over. No sounds, no clicking, nothing.
So I was stuck at the parking lot of the Bennigans, on the Boulevard in Philly. Could have been worse. At least I was not in the hood or the ghetto. (How white do I sound when I type that?)
So I called road side assit. Cancelled my home visit. Left a rambly message for my boss explaining why I stopped working at 3. And I was in tears because my brand new car with 493 miles on it is a price of crap.
The tow truck came in an hour. By 4.30 I was at the dealership, describing the problem, and severly pissed that my brand new car left me stuck at the side of the road. In a parking lot, actually. For all the oil leaks and constant repairs, my Neon never abandoned me.
So now I have a loaner with "McCafferty's Service Vehicle" emblazoned on the sides. It's rather tacky, actually. And while it is nice the dealership provided me with a loaner, I wouldn't want to advertise that the cars sold at my dealership break down. Subtly, I think, is needed.
Here's the kicker: the mechanic called. This morning the car started just fine, like yesterday never ever happened. Punk car. I've been so upset, I forgot to mention i named the car Clark. Punk ass Clark.
After convincing the mechanic that I'm not a silly woman, and yes the gear was in park, the car did not start through no fault of my own, he's going to run "tests". So we'll hear about it in a few hours.
Wednesday, September 08, 2004
So I've been playing around with this thing for like an hour, trying to get links to Omouse's and Athene19's kick ass blogs, respectively. It ain't working. I followed the Omouse's instructions, but to be honest, when it comes to computers and HTML, I'm like a chimpanzee poking at it with a stick. Just a lot of screaming and jumping up and down on my part.
Maybe this will work: http://omouse.blogspot.com and http://athene19.blogspot.com. Check 'em out. They're my best friendss. Ahhh...
As for my working day...went to work. Pouring rain. The drive took an extra fifteen minutes because a) first day back at school and b) no one seemed to be actually driving. I got stuck behind some woman with a car full of kids who thought it necessary to stop and say hello to everyone she saw walking down the street. It just makes me grind my teeth. And then I lay on my horn and become one of those bitchy drivers you hate, always honkinbg 'cause their mad at something. I hate being that person.
Got a manicure and a pedicure after work, so the universe balances out. How is that? Makes me feel better, so there.
I now have plans to lay in bed and finish reading Something Rotten, the latest most brillant novel by Jasper Fforde. (He claims it's his real name.) It's killing me that I don't know which book Yorrick Kaine comes from. I think I'm in the right direct, but Omouse assures me I haven't a clue. However, I did figure out who Granny Next really was, so there. Actually, I had suspicions in the last (Well of Lost Plots) book.
Okay, another day another adventure.
Maybe this will work: http://omouse.blogspot.com and http://athene19.blogspot.com. Check 'em out. They're my best friendss. Ahhh...
As for my working day...went to work. Pouring rain. The drive took an extra fifteen minutes because a) first day back at school and b) no one seemed to be actually driving. I got stuck behind some woman with a car full of kids who thought it necessary to stop and say hello to everyone she saw walking down the street. It just makes me grind my teeth. And then I lay on my horn and become one of those bitchy drivers you hate, always honkinbg 'cause their mad at something. I hate being that person.
Got a manicure and a pedicure after work, so the universe balances out. How is that? Makes me feel better, so there.
I now have plans to lay in bed and finish reading Something Rotten, the latest most brillant novel by Jasper Fforde. (He claims it's his real name.) It's killing me that I don't know which book Yorrick Kaine comes from. I think I'm in the right direct, but Omouse assures me I haven't a clue. However, I did figure out who Granny Next really was, so there. Actually, I had suspicions in the last (Well of Lost Plots) book.
Okay, another day another adventure.
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