LITTLE JOHNNY ON… ENGLISH:
Little Johnny goes to school, and the teacher says, “Today we are going to learn multi-syllable words, class. Does anybody have an example of a multi-syllable word?”
Little Johnny says “Mas-tur-bate.”
Miss Rogers smiles and says, “Wow, Little Johnny, that’s a mouthful.”
Little Johnny says, “No, Miss Rogers, you’re thinking of a blowjob.”
___
Everyone have a great Labor Day weekend!
1. Are you going to school this year?
I may take some seminars/workshops, as funds permit. But no formal schooling.
2. If yes, where are you going (high school, college, etc.)? If no, when did you graduate?
I like First Class in D.C. — it’s owned/operated by a mother-daughter team and gets some good speakers in for a decent price.
3. What are/were your favorite school subjects?
English. I used to be known as the “Grammar Queen.” That was until I went to college and was re-named the “One-Night Stand Queen.” I loved history, too — I was always in advanced placement English and history.
4. What are/were your least favorite school subjects?
Gym. Never understood it. That and biology and other science classes. Too much math. I did well in algebra, though, but bombed geometry.
5. Have you ever had a favorite teacher? Why was he/she a favorite?
I believe Friday Five has asked this before. Marianne Popovich, my ninth-grade English and French teacher. I didn’t just learn those subjects — I was also mentored and encouraged to grow as both a person and as a writer. I wasn’t just another dip who happened to land in her classroom — she made me feel like I could really be a star, both there and in the real world. And I couldn’t bullshit her, like I could with so many other instructors. I hope she’s still teaching — she was absolutely amazing.
Today’s horoscope: “Let your fingers dip into many different pies.” I’ll let you decipher that one. 😉
Siobra (aka the Cat from Hell) kept me awake most of the night. Maddie decided to sleep in my bed for the first time in a week last night, and everytime I peeled the little cat off my head or got her claws out of one of my body parts, I would toss the cat to the other end of the bed — unfortunately, whacking Maddie nearly every time.
At some point last night, I declared, “Everybody out!” I was ready to scream — it was nearly 3 a.m. and I had slept no more than 10 consecutive minutes without the little one either attacking me or my nightstand (this could explain why I awaken to a different radio station than the one I set). I shut the door behind them and still couldn’t sleep because my blood was racing.
Today is a day at the print shop. Woo-hoo! No more Veggies till Tuesday! 😉
Another issue of the monthly Veggie Patch Gazette, that is. w00t!
I have the best team on earth. I really do. I’ve found that we take turns going through rough life situations, which does cause some minor stress for those who are left at the office with a question mark above their heads over some small things. But all in all, everyone really does come through and do their best and even go beyond expectations.
That’s the neat thing about working for an arm of the organization that is pretty independent of the other departments. We kind of just hang and chat and laugh and get our shit done. It’s a crazy cast of characters, but we click. And that’s so important to me — to love the colleagues as much as the work.
I’ve been pretty down on the workplace lately, even though nobody has really said/done anything to send me over the edge in quite a few days hours. I went to the publishing house tonight and chatted with one of my beloved customer care reps, Diana, about various items not related to either of our jobs. It’s so neat to learn about different people and the things they’ve done. It’s nice to be paroled from Club Medicated and be able to interact with some fresh faces — faces who are always thrilled to see me, which I love. 🙂
I’m not really in the mood to be introspective and brilliant tonight (although, one might argue that I am NEVER up for exuding brilliance. LOL). Shawn came over to watch HBO on Demand, which as usual was more pre-menstrual than yours truly and refused to operate correctly for hours. I just got my first Comcast bill — I think I should just send them what I think the service was worth, not the actual total. Of course, Shawn said that, with all the problems and malfunctions, the service was worth about $1.50. No arguments there!
The Cat from Hell has now learned how to crawl up onto my computer desk and dance on the keyboard. Great. I unearthed the old blue water bottle that I used to use to zap Maddie when she got out of line, and that still didn’t do the trick.
I am thinking of renaming the little cat as Siobra (the “b” sounds like a “v”). Leslie had sent me a wonderful list of Irish names for Shan to consider when she wanted to find a good Irish middle name for Alex (she ended up with Marie, which is her own middle name). But I was re-reading one of Leslie’s e-mails, and I really like the sound of the name. It really works for my new black kitten who’s got some serious spunk. I’ll see if this one sticks.
Siobra (OK, might as well get used to saying/typing it) has this habit of, when I’m sitting at my computer desk, taking a flying leap from the floor and digging her claws into my back. I have tons of red dots and scratches down my back, thanks to her. Little brat. 🙂
Looks like Siobra has a cold. She’s been wheezing and snarfing for a day now, and I just noticed that Maddie is dry heaving right along with her. Great. Two sick pussies in the house. Sounds like I have a beauteous holiday weekend in store with those two gagging in my face 24/7!
The little hellion otherwise known as Chloe (till I change her name, which might end up just being “Rosemary’s Baby”) jumped in the toilet for a second time tonight.
The bad news is, the bowl hadn’t been flushed at the time (don’t worry — it was just a liquid-filled bowl). I literally pissed, stood up, and heard a splash behind me. You know, I always felt bad for people who had not-so-bright children, but today I realize that I’ve got a cute kitty who isn’t quite all there. 🙂
So I caught her and gave her a quick bath. She now hates me. She cried the whole time. Now she’s drying off and is planning to accost me with her claws once I fall asleep.
Maddie was sitting at my feet, watching Chloe drown herself. I swear, she sits there snickering behind her paws when Chloe falls in the toilet. I can practically hear her tee-hee-ing and hiding a smile behind her big ole whiskers. And I can’t say I wasn’t laughing right along with her!
“If there’s a screw to be found, you’ll find it.” — one of my favorite colleagues.
Yeah, took Samantha Jones into the garage this morning to ask them to check my ever-leaking tires. A painful $52 later, I have two patched tires and two that are OK. To most people, I’m sure $52 is no biggie, but as my rent is practically doubled and I have some expenses to incur before next payday on Sept. 7, I just felt a big bad ouchie when I handed them the cash. *sigh*
And of course, for the fourth time, I’ve run over a large screw. That’s why my fucking back tires are always leaking. And it’s a real damn shame that the only screws I’m getting are in my tires and wallet. 🙂
I am not writing to bitch about work. I am not writing to bitch about work. I am not writing to bitch about work. I am not writing to bitch about work. I am not writing to bitch about work. I am not writing to bitch about work. I am not writing to bitch about work. I am not writing to bitch about work. I am not writing to bitch about work. I am not writing to bitch about work. I am not writing to bitch about work.
*whew* I feel better.
I really feel like I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. And I feel like my head is going to implode today. And I would love some training in not only how to do my job better, but also in how to deal with office politics. I now have to go beef up some stories (that I didn’t write) because the “right” people weren’t quoted. And here I was just pleased to have new, cutting-edge topics with different voices than the same leaders who are quoted in every issue of the paper.
*sigh*
Kill me.
I’m gonna need a fucking ark if I want to get home tonight. Shit. There’s a group of us stuck here at work, and our electricity has been on and off for the past half hour. If this turns into “Survivor,” we’re eating Town Crier first!!! 😉
I guess it must’ve been the joy of hearing from my very first roommate this morning, but today has just brought a constant, tiny twinge of nostalgia. Not to mention the fact that iTunes keeps cranking out songs that remind me of people from my far as well as my recent past.
I’m not sad — I mean, I don’t have much to really be sad about. I tend to miss what I never had more than what I did have in my life. I like to think that I appreciated and enjoyed everything and everyone when I had it or them, so I really don’t have any regrets in that arena. But I tend to remember (especially with the music I have playing today) things I wanted to say and do, hugs and praise I should have given, declarations of love or fondness that were felt but never enunciated.
And why did I never do those things? If I say I was afraid, none of you will believe me — y’all know I say and do whatever the hell I want. I guess I’ve never had a real comfort with, or entitlement to, some of my emotions. It probably started in junior high when you’d send a note to a boy telling him you have a crush on him, and then he’d go laugh with his friends rather than either tell you to hit the bricks or say that he liked you back. I used to be one of those little girls who punched the boys whenever I felt like it — but it wasn’t because I liked them … it was because they needed a good bitchslapping, for whatever the reason. 🙂
At any rate, I grew up being not the least bit comfortable in my own skin. If you compliment any of my skills or talents, I will graciously thank you. If you say something nice about my outfit, my skin or anything else appearance-related (like the fact that my eyes are two different shades of green — damn mutant), I will brush it off. It’s not that I don’t think you’re sincere — I just don’t really agree with you, so instead of saying, “Why, thank you,” I’d sooner say, “Um, yeah. So are you gonna watch ‘Queer Eye’ tonight?” I am the mistress of ensuring that I am not the topic of conversation, when I don’t want to be.
Of course, I spent enough time as the topic of watercooler discussion. I kind of miss my wild days, but I’ve become quite the homebody since I left Pittsburgh and my apartment there that basically had a revolving door for all the guys I dragged in and threw out. 🙂
I guess I’m looking at my life through a kalidescope today — I see it for all of its color and its magical way of falling into place into brilliant patterns. But I wonder what I have to show for all the effort and heartache and ebullience and frustration. I guess I can say I have a great apartment, two adorable cats, some fabulous friends and some decent memories of decadence and debauchery. But what have I contributed to this world? What have I done to make a difference? I mean, if I got killed on the highway this weekend (and anything is possible with my ever-deflating back tires), what will I have done that won’t be forgotten in five years or fewer?
OMG, where the hell did all of this come from? 🙂
At any rate, I do feel entitled to my emotions (even when I don’t declare them), but I’ve had such a shell wrapped around me since birth that it’s hard to let the walls down and let someone in. You can’t always count on folks to wipe their feet and store their baggage in the overhead compartment before they come in, nor can you expect that they won’t overstay their welcome or slip out unnoticed and be gone before you realize. And just because I say, “Don’t let the door hit ya where the good lawd split ya!” that doesn’t mean that I don’t wonder what the hell happened. But I guess I feel safer when people don’t know how pissed or hurt or sad I was because of them. It’s like I just don’t want to give up that power — I don’t want people to think know that while they may not control my emotions, they sure have a hell of an impact on them.
So today, I take this opportunity to give a big ole hug ‘n’ smooch to some folks, and a big ole “I loved you then and might never stop” to some others. The only problem is, the people that this is aimed toward don’t always — if ever — read this drivel website. And I doubt even amnesia could erase their faces and voices from my memory, even though, thanks to my reticence, there is little else to remember.
I checked my mail this morning, only to find a gift from my first roommate Janna. It’s a gorgeous blue-and-silver mobile for my new hacienda. She said she had a dream about me, that I was a famous novelist living in Paris, so when she got my “I’m moving!” e-mail, she really expected to open it up and find out I’d gone abroad.
She did say that she hopes I have a balcony. Too funny — because I do! 🙂 (And I took the kitties out there separately last night, only to have them fall quiet in awe at first but then scratch the fuck out of me ’cause they wanted to go back inside. Pussies.)
Janna also had the pleasure of running into my beloved Jon Bon Jovi at the Westin in Pittsburgh. She saw him getting onto his tour bus. *swoon* Figures, she’s not even a fan! 🙂 But that’s OK — I loved hearing about it anyway! 🙂
Anyway, that nice surprise was almost counteracted by the fact that I took a wrong turn and ended up headed toward D.C. this morning when I should’ve taken the exit for Richmond. Oh well. I corrected it quickly enough after doing a quick spin through South Arlington. Gaah. Only me!
We have some big errors with the paper, so I shall be attending to those minor crises today. Woo hoo! I suppose I need to get my butt in gear and fix some problems, so I’ll be back later. 🙂