Yearly : 2006

I forgot to re-register to vote when I moved, and so had nothing to do with the voting that has recently taken place. For the record, I want people not to volunteer my money for their pet causes, and I think political parties r dumn. I have stopped paying attention to the Middle East, because I do not expect any news other than what can be summed up as: “It is bad, and getting worse.” I’m not blameless – nobody who drives a car or consumes in this country is – but I sure am tired of the antics of my fellow human beings.

That being said:

The Dante’s Inferno Test has banished you to the Fifth Level of Hell!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Take the Dante’s Inferno Test!

I am quite the hellibund little strumpet, aren’t I?

Monkey the cat has come to visit, and hit the back button on my browser, erasing everything I wrote in the last thirty minutes. And then she fell off the desk and hit the closet door and woke the slumbering Curtwick. Is it true that pets take after their owners?

It is late. To bed!

Been a long time, nice to see you, blah, blah: yes, hello – me. :)

Boy says the thing between me and John and Ken has got to stop. Last night I dreamt that I was at a live taping of the show and Ken was wearing a white ten gallon cowboy hat and leering at me. I woke up uncomfortable and suspicious: there’s something about those hats that just signals trouble.

On Saturday, the vacuum cleaner died, and I felt an inappropriate glee. I hated it, you see. I hated it because it did not vacuum well, and whenever I picked it up to put it away, it puked back out what it had managed to suck up in the first place. We now have a shiny new red one, that is as loud as the mouth of hell, but has impressive suckage.

Last night, we busted out the Colecovision and I played Tapper like I’d never played Tapper before. (‘Rootbeer’ Tapper, my ass.) On level 13-ish, you start tapping for aliens in space, which made perfect sense. They like root(snort)beer everwhar.

Pictures? Did I say pictures?

The Day The Earth Stood Still! GORT! And a pumpkin-o-lantern.

Monkey goes maniac! Klaatu barada nikto, Monkey!

I took another stab at knitting this weekend. It went much better – I knitted and purled until my little monkey hands ached, and then fell asleep on the couch next to Captain Curt, who was wooing the governer’s beautiful daughter (also known as She-Of-The-Large-Breast) in Sid Meier’s Pirates.

We watched Borat. I like.

I am reading The Jungle. I know something bad is going to happen to the poor Lithuanians. I feel guilt for being a carnivore. I have also stumbled upon the Agatha Raisin cozy mystery series in which a stodgy old Englishwoman who moves to the Cotswolds for peace and quiet becomes an amateur sleuth a la “Murder She Wrote”. Which I never watched. /shrug

I am struggling with Nyquil hangover, and possible sickness. Sentences getting harder to form.

I like this blog: I will keep it.

1:17 PM at the office. I’m having some sort of carrot sludge soup for lunch. It’s tasty, as sludge goes. No substitute for meat though! I’ll be rabid with meat-lust by the time I get home tonight.

Did you know that Charles Hercules Ebbets is credited with the invention of the ‘rain check’?

Also, see the Hedonic Treadmill, which I like. Red Queen is a better term, though.

See the geek, and how she reads Wikipedia at lunch. (Sometimes it is WoW Wiki…)

…is a sex song, isn’t it? What a rowdy monkey that George Michael fellow is. Sing it, George, and make all the boys cry!

Absentee blogger again, yes. I’ve been waking up at 5:00 AM-ish to get to work at 7:00, so I have some daylight time to exercise and run errands.

This is destined to be a short entry – it’s Friday night, and I’m going to go on the prowl for some food and something in black and white to watch.

I once again dangle the promise of pictures in front of you, like a luscious carrot.

That’s right: I said luscious.

;)

Me!  :)  And Lurker Lad – cheers to 27!

Yosemite was great.  I meant to get home and be industrious, but what I really need is just to take it a little bit easy, so pictures will come tomorrow, or Wednesday, or tonight, or whenever.

It is my best birthday to date, and it may be because I’m just happier now.  There’s hope yet!

So, whee, off I go, to do stuff, or not, as I choose.  I wish happiness on the lot of you silly monkeys.

:)

I am a big fat liar: today, I bring you no pictures at all, because I am too lazy to Photoshop them into format. It takes time, man! Tomorrow. Or, at least, next week, when we return from Yosemite, I’ll get around to getting up to date on pictures.

Woke up at 5:00 today. Thought about getting ready for work, but then, it was more fun to be slovenly, so I am still unkempt and undressed. I have had 2.5 cookies for breakfast today. It’s almost my birthday. Stepford Giang has forgotten the word ‘diet’, and will continue to not know what it means until October 10th. Whee!

Uhm. So I’ve managed to stare at the screen, and surf the net aimlessly for the last fifteen minutes, and now I have to get up and get ready for work – it’s 8:39! Boy called me to tell me the 91 was clogged about 30 minutes ago – so hopefully that means that dragging my feet will result in me slipping into clearer traffic.

Probably not though. Probably, I am doomed. Ah well.

Not very interesting today. I have a link to a more interesting blog, and prettier: Weblog Wannabe.

I’m off. /waves

Okay, wait. One picture. One picture of my desktop, with the new wallpaper I picked this morning, and then showed to Boy gleefully:

Alright, NOW I’m off. ;)

Friend Casey thinks this blog has turned into a record of my smitternity. Just because I’m being systematically domesticated and turned into a Stepford Girlfriend? The benefits are pretty good. From what I can tell, you only really lose your free will, annoying feminism, and use of the word “archaic”. And you get bigger boobs too. Well, actually, you get killed and you get nothing, but your image remains. Eh. What can you do? ;)

Let’s see. Oh! Birthday on Monday – this weekend, Boy and I are going to Yosemite to go camping and other stuff. Yaris goes on a trip!

Did I already mention that I listen to books read on CD on the way to work? Currently listening to Marker by Robin Cook – the best part is that there’s only one old guy reading it, and his falsetto makes him sound flamey. I wish I could be more sophisticated about it all, but there you have it: I’m a 12 year old boy stuck in a swifty-turning-27 year old woman’s body. And I still have a Panda Face.

After months and months of telling him I could eat 20, or however many was 1 more than he could eat, Boy and I finally had our Taco Eating Contest yesterday. I had 7 – he had 23. BUT, I ate a whole raft of junk before we started. So, it really is quite an equal number…I’ll get him next time.

Pictures!

El Cochito! (Haha: El Coche Fantastico!)

Rafting

On the bus ride up, I realize my ‘orange juice’ cup is empty. Oh, dear.

Why you never fall asleep on a bus with drunk people on it. Not that I think Anthony was drunk…

A picture of the calm part of the American River where we camped.

Some Panda Face Girl eating sour candy and smiling. Or, something.

More later – to work I go!

Today was another day that was not just like yesterday, and not just like tomorrow, and Boy did it. He is a magical leprechaun. (Shshhhsh!)

I came home from work, and he was there. A basket of flowers sat on the coffee table, and a heart shaped balloon that said, not, “Hello, you are too batty, so off I go!”, but rather, “I love you.” He had lit up all the candles in the apartment, and was industriously puttering around in the kitchen. When I came in, he ushered me off to the bathroom, where he had run me a bubble bath. He turned on a Jimmy Stewart movie during dinner, and after dinner, he turned on WoW for me. We played snuggle bunnies.

He did all this because I was sad, and he wanted to fix it.

He sleeps now. I love him so much, I could just sicken you all to puking.

:)

Regular programming tomorrow. Yes, and more pictures of the car. Yeesh. Whiners. ;)

There she is, my tiny little fat-butt car. :)

The 91 is beautiful, but sucks ass.

The 241 is beautiful, doesn’t suck ass, but you have to pay to drive on it.

Strange people who made faces at me, and then jumped out of their car to make a thumb print on Yaris, because ‘It looked too clean’. I work with them, or something. ;o)

Look, an obelisk!

I’m going to have a bowl of oatmeal (I don’t like oatmeal, but it always looks so good on the box. I am der sucker.) and fill IchaPod with music. It’s Friday! New web layout scheduled for this weekend. It’ll be like Y2K II: will it happen?! ;) /waves

So you like pictures, eh? Here’s a picture of the Andromeda Galaxy my older brother Wonk took at the Kitt Peak Observatory in Arizona:

I have improved upon it slightly here:

All geek, all the time! /chortle

(To see more Wonk In Space pictures, click here on SEE MORE.)

Curt called me from work today to tell me he was working in a house wherein there lived a three-legged cat. I was aghast at the though of a poor cat being three-legged (is that better or worse than a three-legged human?), but he reported that the cat seemed to be quite spry and contented, and even let it pet him. Oh, wait. Even let him pet it. (Sometimes the small pronouns get me.)

That’s all for cat news.

That’s all for Giang news as well. Pictures of Yaris next entry. ;)