I have to talk myself out of throwing away the pink highlighters at work every day because I hate that color so much.
Our vet just called and Ellie does not have multiple myeloma! He will call the pathologist on Monday for more info on why her blood protein is high. So, that is some good news; hopefully there is no more bad news to come. 
I don’t know that this *quite *fits in mini-rants, but I feel the need to share with semi-anonymous strangers:
I got to piss on the side of my former-mother-in-laws house today.
That’s all!
Dear mouse trapped in the disused vent next to my chair:
Jump all you want, you little bastard. That vent cover is duct taped to the wall now and you ain’t getting out. You gone die in there.
Love,
Spaz.
So you actually *want *your whole house to smell like dead, rotting mouse? :eek:
^ My first thought too…
Ugh. Dead mouse stinks lots longer than you’d think. I found a dessicated mouse corpse in the bottom of my closet, stuck in a comforter I had stored there. I threw out the whole comforter.
I would like to bitch about my mom.
Never mind that over the past two weeks she tried first to guilt me into going to my nephew’s parents’ day at college (a nephew I have spent a grand total of about 30 hours with in his entire life) because neither she nor my brother could make it. Never mind that when I declined, vehemently, she ignored my protests and tried to bribe me to go. Never mind that she commented, when on speakerphone with myself and MY BOYFRIEND, that my former (now deceased) husband’s girlfriend is still utterly devastated by his death and cries all the time and can’t leave the house, despite the fact that he’s been deceased longer than they were dating, and the sex must have just been AMAZING for her to be so upset (the fact that she still communicates with this girlfriend, who caused all sorts of trauma for my former husband’s family prior to and after his death, is a different story for another thread).
No, this particular rant is about the fact that in addition to those things, leading up to today, which would have been former husband’s 54th birthday, she has slowly been losing her mind over the fact that former husband is well and truly gone and there wasn’t anything she could do about it. So much so that she actually straight-up asked me if ** I thought he’d still be alive if I hadn’t left. **
Thanks, mom. 'Preciate the attitude.
No. When it stops moving it takes a quick flight outside. I’m not opening the vent and having that little bastard escape.
Can it head the other way into your duct system or furnace? I’d imagine that would be even worse..
No, I’m in a basement apartment that’s not connected to the furnace system. This is a leftover vent. There’s an opening at the bottom of the vent cover that I think the mouse got in through. Bastard nibbled on some of my books so I’m extremely prejudiced against it.
Loves getting happy news about pets. They can’t tell us if they are hurting and just hide when they are feeling bad. She is a very pretty baby, btw.
I really did laugh out loud when I read this. If you want to share the back story, I think we would all laugh and want to pee on the house.
I was already to call you cruel for making it starve to not being able to move until I saw the part where the mouse ate your books. Kill the rotten thing, it will just come back and find a different way into your house.
All I can say is I wouldn’t convict.
I just went see a performer and her show was no good. I have several CDs by her and was excited to see her, but this " world class violinist " is singing to pre recorded tracks! I don’t think she did a sound check. I am using the present tense because it was sterile and dull so I left after the 4th song. The sound quality was bad.
My busband’s employer has several open positions which they won’t fill because it helps their balance sheet by keeping beadcount down. Nevertheless, work must get done so the extra work is daily divvied up to existing employees. And EVERY DAY he (and others) get berated for not getting it all done. So, daily, you give twenty-odd employees each ten to eleven hours’ work and are surprised and angry that they don’t get it done in eight hours? Or that after a while they collectively say “fuck it” and stop trying? Idiots is too kind a word for the effect the stress has had on bis health.
Dear Tony: when we agreed to have (your) friends and co-workers over, I gave you one job. You were to issue the invitations and give me a head count. I cleaned and shopped and chopped and cooked, and I did it happily. After all the help that gang gave us recently, I was thrilled to have a chance to return their favors in some small way. Even up to the last second, I was planning for 30+ people, based on your vague “oh, plan for the whole shift, plus wives and husbands, and a couple will bring their kids. And I invited Brian and Becky, and Courtney and his wife. Oh, and don’t forget David and Jamie. Plus Claudia and her husband. Maybe their boys.” So I cooked. A lot. And ten people showed up. We will be eating party food for a week!
One job!
Maybe you could get Cinnamon Imp to piss on the side of her house.
ps: would love to hear the house-pissing story…
That’s something you don’t get to say every day. 
Cause for celebration?
My mini-rant involves how ridiculously long it’s taking to get my gallbladder issue sorted (if it is my gallbladder, which we haven’t determined yet because OMG it’s taking so long). Now, I understand that there are a lot of people in the UK and the system can only do so much so fast, but it would help if my gastroenterologist’s secretary hadn’t put the results of my Helicobacter pylori test into my folder without the doctor having seen it so she could initiate the next step. So it was months and months and months before they got back to me about the next step, and then months to wait for the appointment for the next step, and then that appointment wasn’t actually FOR the next step because the doctor hadn’t yet seen the results from the LAST step, so it was another couple months before I actually got the scan that should have come shortly after the HP test turned up negative, etc. etc. Holy run-on sentence, Batman!
I’m also ranty because, much like the car that refuses to make the funny noise the minute you drive into the mechanic’s lot, my little abdominal malfunction refused to act up during the scan. So I got to lie flat on my back for two hours, triggering a massive fibro flareup that had me crying like a hungry, angry baby, and we probably still won’t get any helpful results from it.
I’m still really hoping it’s the gallbladder and they can yank it without difficulty. It would be so much easier to motivate myself to get out and be productive and have a life and stuff if I wasn’t so damned uncomfortable all. the. time.
I went to lunch with a new rescue group today. The waitress was so rude to us, she actually yelled at one of the other members because she asked for more coffee. The place was empty, we were her only table. When we were done, we carefully paid the bill and the 18 percent tip to the penny. The waitress followed us out and yelled at us again for stiffing her on the tip.
I don’t think I’ll be going back there again.
Should we assume that the tip was included in the bill, not volunteered from your group (because if it had been me she would have gotten a big old zero per cent tip)?