The big news from the week was:
I thought I had ringworm on my elbow.
Turns out I just needed moisturizer. (And since I’m married (to a girl), there was some around the house. I used that and the stuff on my elbow just cleared up.) So it wasn’t ringworm after all.
Hi Rue. Maybe it’s a ringworm that likes to be moisturized. I guess this is an indication of how gay I really am, cause I believe in moisturizing. If I didn’t, my knuckles, elbows and knees especially would be all dry and cracked and icky lookin’. Plus, it feels good.
I got strawberries (fresh, frozen ones I picked and put up myself!) thawin’ in the fridge to put on top of cheesecake tonight. I’m thinking about doin’ up some for real whipped cream to go on top also but that might be gilding the lily sorta cause cheesecake and strawberries is yummy all on its own. Plus I made a shrimp and crab dip. I am the host with the most, I am!
I’ve been using moisturizer on my hands this winter. But since it’s not something that I’ve been doing a lot, I forget to do it everyday. And then I’ll find a patch of skin that feels like 80-grit sandpaper, and remember that I’m supposed to be using the GF’s stuff on it.
Roundboy and Mandy are discussing Osama bin Laden’s niece. Guess she wants to be a pop-tart too.
Hearing you talk about Roundboy and The Martian almost makes me wish my company hadn’t laid off The Old Maid. Her partner Snow White is still here, but I miss the conversations that would usually end with me getting pissed off and calmly explaining to them that there was a difference between transvestites and drag queens and that neither group was “crazy” or “just looking for attention.” Of course, Old Maid called me “Spellcheck,” so on third thought, I’m very glad she’s gone.
Well, today is my last physical working day at The FedGov Agency That Loves Flying Thingies, although my last day of record in this coming Monday. I start my new gig as a contractor for the Navy wannabes bright and early Tuesday morning.
The whole thing situation was tearing me up the past two weeks, because I liked everything about the old job EXCEPT what I was tasked to do, which was a boss’s position; I am a technical workerbee instead. I had a good exit interview with my old boss yesterday, who assured me the door is open if I want to come back, and I have a standing invitation to the office Christmas bash next year, and that went a long way to relieving my fears.
In other news, VunderKind came to town yesterday for the long weekend. We finally did Christmas presents last night, and all were happy. He’s going to Nag’s Head with some buddies to go 4-wheeling in the dunes, and I gave him $40 to bring back some fireworks for tomorrow night.
Having eccentric cow-orkers can be fun, but in moderation (like anything else, I guess.) But why did she call you “Spellcheck”? Is it because you knew what it was and she didn’t, and therefore thought you were crazy?
And my GF wouldn’t let me bring the chainsaw to work. She said it was brand new, and that cleaning blood out of it before we used it in the yard just wouldn’t do.
She called me “Spellcheck” because she couldn’t spell and used me as her dictionary. I don’t mind being revered for my Super Spelling Powers–people all over the office call me when something doesn’t look right to them–but I have a name, and that’s what bugged me.
Well, that and she was just annoying in general. 
I think one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen was the day she opened her e-mail to discover she had visited the wrong site somewhere along the line and was receiving nothing but porn spam. I don’t think she’d ever seen anything like that in person, so the pictures were quite shocking. 
Well crap! I knew I should have stayed home today. It’s been a bad morning already.
I woke up about 15 minutes late, which isn’t usually too bad. But…I had to stop for gas, so that was going to eat into my time buffer. At any rate, cleaned up, stopped for gas and took off for work.
Unfortunately, I got stuck behind this idiot who was either afraid to drive or didn’t realize the freakin’ speed limit was 35, NOT EFFIN’ 20 mph. I was stuck behind her for three miles. Grrrr. I kept hoping and praying this idiot would turn off somewhere and not get on the freeway, but my prayers were not answered in this regard. So, sure enough we are on the entrance ramp to the freeway, she hits the end of the ramp and we’re doing freakin’ 40 mph. There was absolutely no reason for this. So, most unfortunately, for me, I got impatient. I cut across the choke point got into the right hand lane, and ALMOST immediately, while signaling, changed lanes again to get into the left lane. So, I’m cruising along in the left lane, doing about 64 miles when I saw lights in my rearview mirror. Can you say BUSTED? Yeh, I got a freakin’ ticket. I am so pissed at myself. You know I passed the stupid idiot, who was a female, and she was still doing about 45. Arrrgh!
So, Officer WSP (Washington State Patrol) pulls me over, we do the usual exchange, and he came back with a ticket for me. He did cut me some serious slack. He could have written me up for three violations, but he only wrote me up for improper lane change. I so wanted to explain my impatience, but there was really no excuse, so I sucked it up and drove on. Why, oh why can’t these idiots that can’t even get UP to the proper speed limit get busted? They’re road hazards!
Draelin, I also have super spelling powers. I also can express myself properly in the written form. People give me their memorandums, e-mails, policy letters, etc all the time to check over. I am THE EVIL with a red pen. I know it’s hard to believe, based on my writing style here, but it is true.
Taters - that sucks. You’re right that the slow-pokes ought to be rounded up and covered in tickets.
I found a compromise for work. I’d rather be home and doing nothing, but instead, am working from home while I wait for the UPS driver. My new saw is in this city, and is probably at the UPS depot about two miles from here until they do the residential deliveries in the afternoon.
Anyone doing anything fabulous for NYE? If so, do some for me, will ya? We’re staying at home to avoid all of the amateur drinkers* and will most likely be working on that floor. Of course it’s not just a floor.
No time like now to re-paint the room as the moldings are already taken off, and if we spill paint on the old carpet, who cares? As long as we’re taking stuff off the walls to paint, might as well finally change out the window mistreatments left behind by the seller. So there’s a little spackling of holes to be done. While you’re at it, maybe you could add a new phone jack over there? Amazing how these things multiply!
I’m the office dictionary also.
Taters - that sucks. I’m impatient with slow-ass drivers, too. Was she on her freakin’ cell phone? Talking on a cell makes everybody slow down, it seems. What good it does, I have no earthly idea.
I need to go to the store to buy stuff for dinner. What sounds good?
I also need to go take down the Charlie Brown Christmas tree. I can’t get motivated for that. But I already took my car to get an oil change, got it washed, and went to Half-Price Book Store. And I washed the dishes from last (two!) nights. So I’m entitled to a little Doping, right?
Preach it, sister!
We’re at the beach cabin, where it’s rainy, been rainy, gonna be rainy. We don’t care. We’re here, and here we’re gonna stay until Monday afternoon. So there.
I found out what mufaletta was last night. I also found out that I don’t like it as much as I thought I would. Oh well, iffen you never take a chance, you never discover anything new.
We’re not doing anything for NYE. We might watch a movie and open a bottle of wine. We’re so boring.
Ya’ll have a good and safe weekend now, ya’hear?
Who’s hosting next week?
If it makes you feel better, that’s about the extent of my plans, too.
I’ve been semi-reliably informed that the decision to leave early was made while I was at lunch. I don’t know exactly what time we’re leaving yet, but at least it will give me time to stop home and change my clothes and fix my makeup so my mother doesn’t scold me for looking sloppy and dressing like a boy.
Swampy, what are you doing up, at the ungodly hour of nearly five a.m.? Oh wait, it’s later where you are. Or earlier depending upon how you look at it. Red beans and rice are good, but go get your black-eyed peas already. Plus cornbread (remember to put extra sugar in your recipe, yum) (ow! quit smacking me! Fine, no sugar.) plus something else, mebbee a salad 'cause I don’t like greens 'cept for spinach which aren’t really greens greens.
Howdy do all of you! I’m back from christmas at mommy’s and boy did I rake in the loot. Samdy Klohz was good to me, but Mom was getting rid of clothes she didn’t wear, so I have a bundle for me and a giant bag for my students. Then I went out and gardened and gardened and gardened. Mom’s patio and yard look tres spiffy even if I do say so myself, which I do. Spiffers!
Draelin, I used to be really good at spelling until I came here and realized how painfully bad at spelling and grammae(choose your favorite vowel)r and even punctuation, I am. See? Right there is a sentence to make an english teacher cry. Yer welcome.
Bumba, isn’t a muffaletta just a sangwhich? Or is that a Po’ Boy? Or are they both?
What a co-inkee-dink passwords, I too await the UPS guy. Mine is a book on temari balls and such. The package, not the UPS guy. Books are very bad drivers since they never signal and can’t see over the steering wheel anyway.
I would looove to go do something for NYE but there is nothing to do that I want to do. The sand dunes with their Girl’s Gone Wild and fifty jillion drunken, drugged up ATV ridin’ sorts hold no appeal. Neither does a nasty bar or club half-filled with my under age students drinking themselves into the free clinic. So home again this year it is. It’s okay, I like the people who hang out there.
Oooh! Plus I’ll have really good eats. I’m making chicken saltimbocca and fettucinni with walnut and cilantro pesto. Then I will go into a food coma.
Sean, go ahead and take the chainsaw to work, I do it all the time. No worries about gunking up the chain, trim a few branches and it’ll clean itself up. Then loan it to taters, seems she could use it on a few people driving slow and in the passing lane too, I’ll bet. Probably ignoring all the many signs that say to keep right. Those bastiges! Oops, we’ve stumbled upon my strongest pet peeve. It was even in the senior yearbook, those slowpoke, rule ignoring, self-centered, scaredy-driving, traffic-making, goat… ahem, err, those naughty people irritate so.
Yeeks, I’ve written a book again. It appears it ought to be shelved in the surrealist section. Or poured, being surreal. Mind the clover critters!
In my last office, my cube mates called me “Ask Michelle dot com” because I’m a font of assorted obscure information, I can spell, and I could find just about anything they wanted to know with a quick Google. In my current office, no one asks anything so no one knows that I know a lot of strange stuff. But that’s fine. They leave me alone and I can get work done.
Our NYE plans will be like most years past - we’ll probably be asleep by 10. Party on. 
I’m now home till Jan 9. Not that I’m housebound or anything - I just don’t have to go back to the office till a week from Monday. Yay! Tomorrow, we’re going to Baltimore to claim our kitty. Tuesday, my baby comes to spend a week with us (she’s already warned me she plans to sleep a lot) and other than that, nothing exciting is in the offing.
Poke chops thawing for dinner. No bills in today’s mail. Life is good!
OK.
this is not so mundane (it may well be pointless), but I just finished taking a sample test for GRE.
I got a 220 on math, folks.
That is less than 1 percentile.
Yep-I am off the chart–the wrong way.
I am completely fucked.
The verbal I messed up on–I got confused and couldn’t figure out if they wanted antonyms or what–that’s no real problem (plus I took the Vebal part-in the study book, not the computer- with only two wrong-not counting, of course, the written bit). So, verbal is salvageable.
I don’t know what I’m going to do. Obviously, keep trying and practicing.
the math is completely foreign to me–I mean I don’t even know where to start to hazard a guess as to solving the problems. I use some algebra and basic math in my job–but the algebra is now pre-programmed into the infusion pumps, so I’m not even doing that anymore.
I am really upset. How much can a 43 year old woman cry before it’s perceived as being a baby? I have got to do well and get the hell out of my field.
Sorry for the downer post but I am at a loss.
That’s why it’s a sample. You identify your weaknesses, and then study those areas. Of course, you have your work cut out for you, since your weakness seems to be everything beyond 2 + 2 = 4 
Quoted directly from the “Show me your booty” thread:
Leather jacket, but that came a month ago, two books on gay people and the bible, a bigger SD card for my camera, three sweaters, a shirt, some hideous tennis shoes (oh, God, hideous), some white sheets for the wrong size bed, a wonderful messenger bag, a copy of Brokeback Mountain, 3 different kinds of lip balm, yarn and knitting needles, socks, gloves, a gyroscope, a toothbrush, candles and a candle warmer, and something that is “on its way,” and being shipped to my school address (My guess is a subscription to the Advocate, since I asked for one.)
On a side note, Abbreviationless-guy comes back from his Christmas journey late tonight. I have Saturday and Sunday off. We’re surely going to spend the entire day baking cookies for orphans.
So that’s what the kids are calling it now. <snerk!>
FCM - What is it about the MMP and synchronizing dinner plans? About an hour ago, I was prying off the old baseboard molding and making some clever secret holes and slots for that new phone line to run through and the dinner bell popped into my head and said “Hey dummy, better take something out to thaw or you won’t be eating until 9PM and DH will be hungry and grumpy!” I took out pork chops.
UPS guy came, bearing just about the biggest box that I think can be shipped by UPS. Big enough for a little girl to see it and squeal “It’s a pony!” but no pony - just a bigger than anticipated miter saw.
Off to the hardware store to pick up one of those blasted Everlasting Jobstoppers. It’s hard to spackle old screw holes when you have no spackle! At least I was smart enough to confirm that I’ve still got the right color paint, plus roller covers. It’s like my very own Trading Spaces, but with no trading and no designers or carpenters helping.
Well, Happy New Year, y’all. I’m out of hear until Monday.
I took a different sample test-just the math this time. I was guessing probably 80% of the time, but scored 50%–so that’s better.
Off to bed and then work in am.
Happy New Year all.