Ick. Too bad about the kiln explosion, FCM. I hope you can salvage the monsters.
Here’s hoping Rusty gets better.
I love my midwife, and the clinic, and the little lending library. I get two midwives on rotation, and when I’m in early labour my first on will be with me, and the second will show up as soon as I go into active labour and transition. And I can have anyone I like around for the birth (Driving Husband has to stay in the lounge. I’m not having him in offering everyone vodka). I’m soooo happy. I always feel the clock ticking when I talk to my doctor, even though i really like her, and the midwives are all relaxed and chatty.
Yay.
I need tea. Do I want to do chores, or do I want to shop for a dress for Attacks Husband’s wedding?
Arrgh! The job is seriously getting to me. It shouldn’t be a requirement to explain basic math to people who make 4 times what I do, but I had to do it yesterday.
See, we’re migrating departments from one file system to another. If everything goes perfectly, we can migrate two departments a week, but we only average one. A large part of the migration process depends on the client, and they rarely jump right in and get thier part done. So we really average about 1 and a third departments a week.
Yesterday in the status meeting the “project co-ordinator” announced: I’ve let the upper management know that the project will be completed in December. The upper middle management types around the table al begin congratulating each other, until I pipe up with: “No, it won’t.” The looks I got were incredulous. How can I be so negative? Well, it’s basic math.
There are 58 departments to migrate. There are 17 weeks left until the end of the year. Of those 17 weeks, we lose two because there is a blackout period for migrations as school starts, we lose one for Thanksgiving, and we lose three in December because of the break. That leaves 11 weeks to do 58 departments.
I really don’t know what the hell the man is thinking.
I just got off the phone with a guy that ranted, raved, expounded, explained, cajoled, harassed, complained and otherwise used far too many words to complain that the bus driver drove past his son’s stop this morning. By ONE house, to the next driveway.
It took me 7 minutes (phone’s got a call timer) to get out of him that there were two cars parked on either side of his driveway and the bus couldn’t pull up to his.
Clearly there needs to be a test before people become parents.
First day of the fall semester. 8 o’clock classes from Mon-Thurs every week. I am less than thrilled. And my new apartment is less than perfect - the stove doesn’t work properly and we haven’t been getting proper hot water for days. And the stupid landlord keeps his cellphone firmly off. Still, Scottish Darling and I have been having fun cleaning up and buying useless things for the place, like a rocking chair and a fox-shaped cushion to go with it. I want to sign up for Internet but I need to talk to Cloud Maiden about it first, and God only knows where she is or what she’s doing. She said she’d be back in Chicago on the 6th, which would be . . . today. Hm. :dubious:
Anyway, just wanted to let y’all know I’m alive. Guess I’ll see some of you tomorrow. How exciting is that?
Hi, Haze! Good to see you – good luck on connecting up with Cloud Maiden and getting your internet!
MBG, the good thing about school starting again is that you have tales of idiot parents to regale us with. I agree, there ought to be a test and a license required to have kids!
We all went to the vet’s; Isaac insisted on coming along, even though he truly, deeply hates it there. For no good reason other than he’s a total wuss. So as a reward, he got his nails trimmed. Rusty also got his cone off, and I had to buy a far-too-small bag of ridiculously expensive “bland diet” food for him to eat for a few days; at least we can freeze the leftovers for the next time one of the Idiots needs a bland diet. And, fortunately, he loves it; he scarfed it right down.
The verdict at this point seems to be he got a massive, nasty tummy-ache from eating Mr. Mole (or, possibly, Mr. Giant Rat). In any case, he’s starting to feel better, although that ended up being a very expensive snack he had. At least he ate something edible, unlike labs, who tend to eat anything they feel like whether it’s edible or not! I also totally grossed out the vet telling her about the time Isaac drank out of the gutters in the French Quarter. She was already cringing when I told her they call it “gravy.” The cringe turned into a shudder.
So Maggie Wonderbeagle could out-neurotic Rusty, canine servant? This I gotta see! How do we have a neurosis-off between our dogs? :dubious:
Looks like my computer problems aren’t over. The problems are starting to recur – which means that either the BIOS chipset itself is going bad (recall that I just replaced the battery a couple of weeks ago) or the motherboard isn’t able to draw enough power from the battery to keep the BIOS memory active. Either way, I don’t trust this thing to last much longer, so I’m going to pick up that other motherboard today and replace it. Whatta pain in the arse.
Oh well. At least I’ll get a working network controller and possibly properly working USB ports.
Rusty could compete on the Olympic team for exuberant idiocy, Bobbio – I really should videotape him going through his nightly 9:00 biscuit ritual, which involves him trying to climb on Papa Tigs’ lap, then bouncing around in the hall, spinning in numerous circles, and leaping up to dance with the humans, all while whistling excitedly. I swear, he whistles like a teakettle. In fact, I knew he was feeling better today when he whistled at the vet! (She was amazed; like everyone else, she’s never heard that sound come out of a dog before.) Rusty is a dog of extremes – either boundless joy/exuberant idiocy, or total neurotic patheticness. Nothing in between. It does make him a source of endless entertainment!
Off to go take the last two items out of their soak and block them out. And then can someone please tell me to get back to work? I’ve got a bad case of the don’t wannas today, but I have a job that’s due tomorrow!
Suddenly I feel grateful for my cats. If they are really stupid and annoying, at least they’re small.
Hi, Haze! I hope Cloud Maiden gets back, and doesn’t wander off without telling you. Do you have an address for the landlord? I suggest tracking him down. And then beating him.
Done my chores, so I think I’ll run off downtown and see if I can find a really really cheap dress. I’m bored with being at home. And I need fries. I didn’t discuss what I’ve been eating with Melinda (the midwife). Hey, the kid still tests healthy, even if he’s three-quarters fries and gravy. And my blood pressure and glucose are fine.
It took at least 2 full weeks before she showed any signs of actually liking me and not just coming out to play and eat when I was around. You are such a sweetheart and are so good with kitties that I know she won’t be able to help but love you once she’s had more time with you.
One thing I did find with her, unlike any other cat I’ve ever had, is that she was calmer and more apt to cuddle or roll over and beg to be petted if she was confined in one room. If she was out and playing; forget it, you couldn’t pick her up for snuggles or pet her at all, she’d just jump down and run off to play some more.
So what I would do was open the doors in the house (or office, when she was here) to let her run around and play during the day, but at night (or if I just needed a short break from her rambunctiousness), I would close the bedroom door, and she would calm down and snuggle. I figured eventually she would “get it” that snuggling was good and nighttime meant sleep time, which she had actually started to get by the time you came for her. Though she’d been an “at my side” or “on the pillow next to my head” snuggler for about a week or so, remember that she had curled up on my chest for the first time, only just the night before you picked her up, and had only figured out the “curl up in the lap” thing just the day before. So maybe try keeping her in just one room with you for short periods while you’re around, or for the night when you go to sleep, and see if that helps?
Between that and the one in Plumas, the whole area looks like it’s socked in with fog. The sun is dark orange, my eyes are stinging and there was a dusting of ash on the truck this morning.
My eyes have been stinging a bit this morning, too, and every once and a while, I’ll get a whiff of something burning. The light is all wrong, too, from being filtered through the smoke. It’s a long time until the winter rains, so there will probably be a lot more fires between now and then. California’s three seasons: Wildfire, mudslide, and earthquake.
I found out why mom & kid are gone from across the street. She’s left her husband and gone to live with her father. My landlord is such a gossip. He knows everything about everybody on this street, usually about 5 minutes after it happens. And he doesn’t even live here!
I’m convinced that it’s only people that know stuff about computers have problems. Us dolts turn them on/off play some games, gossip on the Dope and we never have any problems.
Home. Is it Friday yet? Shortly, I’ll take some pics of the monsters and other critters before I start pricing and packing.
**MamaTigs ** - I’m probably the wrong one to ask about pricing - everyone tells me I price too low. So, why not just start at $10 and go up from there? <shrug> I"m still not sure how to price my stuff, and this is my 4th show.
So, what should we have for supper? I need suggestions. And/or delivery.
At least he ate something edible, unlike labs, who tend to eat anything they feel like whether it’s edible or not! I also totally grossed out the vet telling her about the time Isaac drank out of the gutters in the French Quarter. She was already cringing when I told her they call it “gravy.” The cringe turned into a shudder. 