Saved! There’s a place up on Powell and Foster that can fix any pair of glasses, no matter how badly you’ve fucked them up. New earpieces on in 20 minutes. Huzzah!
I’ve always gone with a laser cannon - you vaporize them and then drive laughing thru their dust! 
Snow.
Just. Fucking. Stop.
In fact, I’m sick of precipitation in general. We escaped the mud season (snow season, this year) with a long-planned trip to Kauai, where it rained every day. And not the typical tropical showers, but extended driving downpours, even on the sunny side of the island.
And now it’s dumping again, with no end in sight. I keep thinking it might transition to rain and melt the extra snow away from my hiking trails, but no such luck. There’s a chunk of snow sitting on Mesa Verde! In May! I refuse to keep snowshoeing for exercise!
Hopefully we’ll get one of those flipping-of-the-switch transitions directly to summer on June 1. Hopefully we won’t get a direct transition to monsoon season. I need some sunshine.
Weather! Faugh!
The old truck doesn’t start after the long winter. That’s to be expected—I will charge the battery on Sunday. I didn’t expect to find a yellowjacket nest just inside the door.
Last Sunday my wife told me the lights in the room went off again. It’s a breaker that keeps tripping. I have unplugged everything from that circuit and replaced the breaker, and it still trips. I just leave it tripped for now, using an extension cord to bring juice into the room.
I suppose I’ll get an electrician in this week or next.
My happy Linux server had shoddy capacitors on the mother board and they started oozing stuff. I bought a set of replacement ones and gave it a go with a soldering iron today, but the mother board is still dead. Oh well.
Dammit! Now that I know that you are there, I guess I’ll have to sign up. Now there will be only 15 people online who aren’t in facebook :eek:
My new walking stick means I can hit SG from a distance;) My stylish “boot” gets me lots of sympathy as I hobble around delivering files to offices. The legal secretaries take one look at me, with boot and walking stick and handtruck, then insist that I sit down in the break room and eat some cake or pie while they deliver the files. I’m thinking I’m liking this.
I’ve also learned that I have a magic finger for TNR. This morning, I hobbled up the driveway to the yard where my trap is, pointed my finger and the trap was magically covered and put in my car. When I got to the vet’s office, I hobbled in and suddenly the trap was magically delivered from my car to the vet office while I was telling the receptionist about where I was trapping.
I think I’ll get really spoiled with this!
Ohhhh, I need to put a pouch on my stick. As a biker, my opinion is why use 1 piece of bling when 17 will do? What did you do for the hand grip? My stick is a knarled piece of oak and I tried to glue leather where my hand goes, but it came off. All of the bling is nailed on, but I don’t want to use nails on my hand grip.
If you use your stick like mine, don’t use expensive feathers. I’ve found that teasing my cats with the feathers is very entertaining and they’ve already mangled them. So much for my white peacock feathers! :smack:
I don’t do anything for a hand grip, I’ve never really needed one. And I don’t use the stick to tease the cats with, I don’t want them to get the notion that the stick is a cat toy. I do, however, buy flutterballs for the cats on a regular basis, though I don’t know why I bother. The younger female seems to want to defeather them before she plays with them.
I have ADHD - predominantly inattentive. I was diagnosed at the age of 34, and when I told my friends, they unanimously replied “What? You didn’t know?” I did a lot of reading and research to understand what was going on in my brain, and I understand that it’s simply wired differently. I have a very low threshold for distraction. If it is not new and shiny, I don’t usually notice it. I have to work two or three times as hard as people with regular brains to stay picked up and get chores done in an orderly manner. I’ve seen the brain scans of other people with ADHD and how the prefrontal cortex actually shuts down the more an ADHDer tries to concentrate.
So why is it a large number of people in my life, including my mother, seem to believe my brain will change if I just “try harder”. My life is made of “try harder”. I trained myself never to get angry if a person asked me to go get that thing I forgot or pick up that thing I didn’t notice or whatever physical evidence of my funky brain shows up in the real world. Ask me, and I’ll do it without complaint, and usually an apology. Because it is my responsibility. No matter how off plumb my brain gets, I am still responsible for doing what I say I will do, I am responsible for picking up after myself, and so on and so on. I will do it. It’s just that many times, my brain skips a groove, and I lose that mental sticky note.
So telling me that I need to try harder does not help. Telling me that I need an elaborate plan to cover all contingencies so that I don’t forget to pick up the cup I left in your car does not help. Telling me that it’s a good thing I don’t have a nursing instructor looking over my shoulder and evaluating me really doesn’t help, because you are a nursing instructor, you’re looking over my shoulder, and you’re evaluating me right now. All my willingness to go back and fix my mistakes and get what I missed without complaint or anger IS me trying harder.
So, now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to put my head down and feel useless, flawed, and lazy, because apparently, that’s how my own mother sees me.
Tell her to try harder to shut the fuck up.
As one who has also had the unpleasant surprise of a raisin masquerading as a chocolate chip, I own this t-shirt.
Jeez, why all the hate for the poor raisin? They’re just dried grapes, you know, with all their sweetness condensed down.
It’s the wrinkles, isn’t, you lot of ageists. :mad:
Me, I love oatmeal raisin cookies. Add in a hearty dose of cinnamon and vanilla icing and they’re my very favorites.
The funeral we went to the other day meant 7 hours in a car, during the worst storm I’ve seen in a while (3-lane highway: no one was going faster than 25 mph*) and came complete with a revelation (to me) of an unacknowleged out-of-wedlock oldest grandchild. Plus the trip highlighted the difference between how Mr. Horseshoe’s family treats me and how my own family has treated me and dredged up a whole mess of blackness and anger and depression and I just feel completely wrung out now. I’m stuck at work for the day when all I want is to crawl somewhere dark, curl up, and hide.
- I got my dates mixed up and thought Friday was supposed to be The Rapture. For a few minutes there, I … didn’t not believe them.
This is so mini, but Og dammit, I was sick and missed my re-up for Charter Member status at the cheap rate. Now I’m a fucking GUEST after all these years of being a charter member. Fucking ads, fucking ads, fucking ads. Gah, I hate this site now. 
I am never eating Dominos pizza again. I caved to my husband’s craving for pizza last night and, just like every time I do it, I’m paying for it today. As icing on the proverbial cake, I sprained my ankle severely on Saturday, so I’m hobbling around, white knuckled and waiting for my next dose of Ibuprofen.
God, I want to hurl. If I thought I could do it without hurting my ankle I would. And we’re in the middle of a horrible thunderstorm. I have no idea how I’m going to walk down the stairs if we’re evacuated to the basement for a tornado.
A quick e-mail to the mods might get you a temporary extension to the re-up window.
Scooch down on your butt. I spent a lot of my childhood with sprained ankles and this method is surprisingly easy.
I have a suddenly clingy cat. She has to be sitting on me. Well, no; not sitting. If she were just sitting, I’d be fine. No, she has to be climbing on me, marking everything nearby with her head. When I move her off, she practices passive non-resistance, in that she goes completely sack-of-potatoes limp. Which isn’t surprising, since she’s done that since kittenhood, and is thirteen now. But this clingyness to me, specifically, is new. It’s really cute, but, dammit, I want my lap back.
And I wish she would just. Stay. Still. Dammit.
Sometimes this is a sign the cat isn’t feeling well. I hope that’s not the case, but keep an eye out.
I never should have joined that facebook group. Someone, somewhere decided to make a facebook group to rouse support against the dumbass initiative to amend the MN constitution to ban same-sex marriage. Because it’s not like the courts aren’t already interpreting decades old legislation to prevent it, no we have to have it in the fucking constitution because they hate me that much. But I joined the group anyway because I haven’t learned my lesson from the last 8 billion times someone made a facebook group about something. And now I keep clicking back over to read the latest idiocies on the group wall and frankly, it’s ruining my attitude. And now people are forwarding links to me of various op-ed pieces about how this amendment is a good thing and I really just want to scream that I get their point of view and I don’t really care to read any more of it because every time I read, “It’s just my beliefs,” all I can see is ,“I’m hateful and petty and I get to dictate how you can live your life.” and this sort of mental state cannot be good for anybody.
I’d drink the rest of the wine in the kitchen but I already brushed my teeth.
There’s a woman in church who, sitting in the congregation, insists upon harmonizing with the last note of most of the songs. Loudly. All by herself. It’s bizarre, but fortunately she can sing, so it’s not like she’s yodeling back there or anything.
Also, she and her husband seem to look upon singing as a time to talk loudly, presumably thinking no one can hear them over the music. Wrong.
Shut up, annoying church woman.