Don't don't don't let's start

My lack of fear and trembling of office-based authority doesn't quite get me in trouble, but I think it disconcerts some people. (In fact, the native importance of the whole 8-5 world is a concept almost entirely lost on me.)

I will be temping a slow assignment (one where you babysit a lobby and a low-traffic switchboard, as opposed to one where you file your ass off all day), my native commonsense and I websurfing and minding our own business, when, lo! Ms. Very Important Office Personage will drop by and make a request.

Trouble enters right behind Ms. My Office Has Two Windows, as my HeirarchicalSpideySense fails to go off. I don't realize that this is not a request, but a Royal Request, neither of which are actually requests at all.

Instead of the expected "M'am yes ma'am how high ma'am?" I respond with an assessment of when it will get done, based on whatever I've been given to understand of the frontdesk's usual operation.

If they asked me then to do it right away? I would, with no further discussion. But they usually don't. They usually seem at a loss for what to say, as if I had been unspeakably rude.

Then they go away. And I resume surfing the web.

"So, we are dumb and we are not so dumb." ~ Bill Cosby

Blackbird has spoken

Though cold and much too early,
The world had gone all blue and pink,
Which is ok when the sun does it

Hey there Mr. Shintoist!

Holiday Shout Out To: Molly, who's Czech Easter Pork Roast recipe got me out of my no-turkey/no-ham holiday cooking bind. It was delicious, Molly; thanks!

Best Present, Given: This is a tie between the Zombies!!! game and bag of 100 glowinthedark Zombies!!! we sent to my soon-to-be-brother-in-law, and the Trogdor! The Burninator! t-shirt I sent to Agent Smith. Obviously, things with exclamation marks make great gifts.

Best Present, Received: Without question, the gift card for an afternoon of pampering at our local spa from Mein Schlankmann. Hmmm, last year he gave me a fabu tub spa thingie; I wonder if he's trying to tell me something?

Favourite Christmas Special, Ever: Emmet Otter's Jugband Christmas. If you haven't seen this, I will rush over with my copy right now. If you don't have a dvd player, I will buy one on the way. The bestest take on Gift of the Magi. Ever.

Favourite Christmas Special, Caught Randomly on TV: It's a Wonderful Life. Yes, I still love this, and miss the days when, if you had cable, you could see it round the clock anytime between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Sigh.

Most Upsetting Christmas Special, Caught Randomly on TV: The new Muppet one from last year. Ugh. You know what someone can get me for Christmas next year? The Clockwork Orange LaZBoy viewing chair and a wizard ninja team to kidnap Brian Henson. He will watch my Muppet collection until his eyes bleed or he gets some hint of his father's sensibility.

Bets will be taken on which happens first.

Then we will drink mulled wine out of his skull and feed his carrot to the bunnies. And god bless us, every one.

But the fighter still remains, hmm, hmm, hmmm

Hey there: Happy Boxing Day one and all!

Odd that I seem to have just skippy-go-lightlied over the more obtrusive holiday. Twasn't a statement or anything, I just had things to do and stuff.

But today, when all good little anglophiles should be snug at home, perhaps playing with their brand new copies of SoulCalibur2 (oh yeah!), I am at the temping (boo and hiss).

Not much to say about it, really. I don't mind it (except for sorting mail. i really, really hate doing that, and have since my college desk attendant days. no idea why. unless it was seeing The Postman. shudder.), but it tends to be pretty slow around holidays, save for the 9 minutes when everything that is going to occurs.

Today that was 9:38-9:47am.

It is now 1:51pm.

Ticktockticktockticktock.

news!

My younger sister just got engaged! To a pretty darn cool guy! Huzzah!

The wedding is scheduled for Summer 2005. And the wedding plansanity staaaartsss...now.

after the swimsuit and eveningwear rounds. . .

I've narrowed the field of possible computer names down to these 3:

~ Father Williams (because it isn't old anymore)
~ Jones (so it can warn me if aliens are approaching)
or
~ Delgamor, The Computerator

Wow, you might say, that must be some great computer you have there if you're so keen to give it a cool name. Yeah, well, I haven't set it up yet, ok? Are you happy now?

Really, I've been sick all weekend, and thus without energy to do all the moving and lifting and stuff shifting that would involve getting my sleek dell settled in its new little computery home.

And don't even get me started on the file transfering. Makes me sleepy just to think about it....zzzzzzzzz.

we put the ice in customer service (a true story)

At the Giant Office Supply MegaStore of My Choice (but only because it's 7 blocks from home), I had acquired my giant desk pad calendar and was in search of some colourful markers for it. Meanwhile Bob was mourning the disappearance of his favourite type of pen.

(a sales associate approached. she was amazonian in scope.)

SalesAmazon: Are you finding everything alright?

Me: Yep. (waved calendar menacingly)

Bob: Well, actually, I'm deeply disappointed that the type of pen I like seems to have been discontinued.

SA: Oh, well, hahahahahahahahahaha. (laughed)

On the 17th Day of Consumas...

I have a new computer. It is at home, seductively splayed about the living room where I slowly stripteased it bit by bit from its packaging last night while watching Celebrity Poker Showdown (Hank Azara and Mo Gaffney were on hand, but the table was rounded out with B-listers), despite having no intention of actually setting it up until tonight. Maybe.

I would have reanimated it right away, but was a bit tired after wrastlin' the holiday tree into place (the UPS man knocked after I had manuvered the Rae-sized piney beast into the tree stand on top of the end table, but before I had tightened the screws. tim. ber.). Also, there was/is crocheting to be done.

In the meantime, the new computer needs a name. Hmmm.....

I call it The Velvet Dustmop

I woke up this morning with rock star hair. This was unexpected.

Granted there are several varieties of Bed Hed to which I am used, especially when I've had a bubble bath at 1:37 am and am going to sleep with wet hair, but most of them don't look good.

However, today my hair apparently had decided to become a glam rocker. And brushing didn't seem to phase it. It was unflappably hip, in a british Queer Eye for the Straight Guy sort of way.

What else could I do? I put on sunglasses, some glitter, and my post-apocalypse Scottish Play boots and blue faux snakeskin trench coat and went to fake carpal tunnel for the med students.

in other hair news. . . I'm going to rebecome a brunette, slowly, so as not to scare anyone. It's for a show, but also because I'm a bit curious to discover what my real hair colour actually is now, whether I have any grey, etc, etc.

Why am I blogging aout my freakin' hair anyway? Because I cannae blog about basketball anymore; my blog is an official jinx.

Take the ball and follow down the court, then you'll be on the top upon the top

I was going to muse a bit on Christmas and what I like about it,

but got distracted because HOLY SHIT my basketball team is in freakin' 4th place according to ESPN.

How the hell did that happen?

Moreover, they will be playing here, that is IN SEATTLE, in less than 2 days.

Are there still tickets? If so, they will be mine.

While a basically theatrrr artsy sports disdaining person, there are exactly 2 teams to which I pay attention. One of them is on winter break. The other will be here Saturday.

You really haven't seen how loud and obnoxious I can be until you accompany me to NCAA basketball. Poor Bob may emerge shellshocked.

I was going to blog from work here but my break is almost over and I need a cookie, so

Mayor McCool of Christmasville

I proclaim it to now be the time for the playing of the holiday music. Bring me the Dean Martin, Louis Armstrong, and Charlie Brown cds, so we may play forth the coolest Christmas music in all the land!

these are problems you wanna have

she thought as she asked, shall we play magic or shall i start baking the chocolate cake?

it is bob's birthday. be happy and rejoice, all ye peoples.

or don't. totally up to you.

the weakest thing i've ever done is to stay right by your side

"I feel dead inside," he said, and she waited for the punchline.

None came, and she wanted to tell him that this statement had become old and tired. She longed to point out he had been dead inside for quite some time, as far as she could tell. She wondered why he had suddenly gotten around to being bothered by it just now.

But she thought it might be insensitive to mention any of this.

Look, Ma! I'm temping!

Which gives me faaaaaar too much quality time with ye olde computer, frankly.

Normally I would still be asleep right now. Hmph.

So, what's on my mind?

~ Went to My Very First Meet-up for Dean last night. It was inspiring and tiresome, all at the same time.

~ Deciding it is time to get some semblence of my normal social life back, I'm gunning for an easier to accomplish hairstyle for the late-night show I'm in so I can see some normal hour theatrrr.

~ Being poor for Christmas has me falling back on homemade gifts. My sister will particularly be on the receiving end of my crocheting onslaught (now with 50% more tassels!).

whiskey drink in hand
backs itch for something absent
martini maybe

my own personal jesus plays to the leopards in my head

trying to get some computer work done and listening to my current iTunes mp3 mix which I really need to burn off to cd so i can listen to it endlessly in my car instead of here, in the other ear we have an endless round of the building's fire alarm being tested, and tested, and tested.
to me it sounds like the bell that actually rings in the fire house, but that may just be a false impression from the movies
"ok, guess what I am," says the movie "BRRRRINGGG!"
it feels wrong to be sitting here ignoring it after 2 and a half years spent sporadically shepherding dorm residents outside during the biannual testing of the fire alarms
in my building the CAs (community advisors) played a game with the whole thing
one of us would pull one of the 12 alarm stations and the others would have to go read the alarm system command central control board in the RHCs office to figure out which station we needed to reset
and yes, we did do silly pointless pseudo SWAT maneuvers and say "Go, go!" and such quite a bit more than was strictly necessary
my last semester as a CA, as the senior member of the team, I got to be the one to pull the alarm
and if you think that didn't make me feel like a rock star, you don't know me very well.

Reading: Baudalino by Umberto Eco (and if any word used just now turns out to have been spelled correctly, i will be the most shocked one of all)

I'd say you were lucky 'cause I know what you've done

I have a problem with grudges. Or, actually, I won't go that far. Some people, my mom and sister being among those some, would say I have a problem, which is really theirs, that problem being that I hold them, the grudges.

"But what else are grudges for?" I wonder. I never get a good answer to that.