Caterwauling

I shot up out of bed at 6:30 a.m. because I remembered something work-related that I’d forgotten to do that could possibly lead to disaster later on.

A pot of coffee and half a pack of cigarettes later, I decied it was absolutely in my best interests to have some “self” time.

So, a pack of Energizers and a bad case of carpal tunnel later, I’m refreshed and ready to go back to work! 😉

I swear, I have the best fantasies when I’m frustrated as all hell. …

I’ve been workin’ like a dog this week, and it ain’t over till it’s over. And it ain’t over in the forseeable future. Fuck. I’m ready to pay someone to clean my house, seeing as though I don’t have the time to do it.

I just realized that, not only do both of my cats have black collars with rhinestones, but my new favorite necklace is black with rhinestones. My god, are are we color-coordinated. Frightening.

She’s two months old now, but I finally got some photos of her today from Shan.

Here’s Shan with the lovely Alexandria Marie, back in August:

Here’s Alex, photographed Aug. 10, the day after she was born:

And here is Alex and Dad with her favorite book, courtesy of Aunt Dawn. I couldn’t be there with the family, so I provided her first book (about a caterpillar becoming a butterfly, much like the little one herself):

1. Name five things in your refrigerator.

Coffee grounds, Diet Vanilla Coke, French’s Wasabi Horseradish GourMayo, apple butter and eggs.

2. Name five things in your freezer.

Garlic bread, a Red Baron pizza, a pack of Hot Pockets, a pack of Hershey’s chocolates and a gel eye mask.

3. Name five things under your kitchen sink.

Two vases, a can of Raid, a jug of Palmolive dishwashing soap, a bottle of Jet Dry and a box of dishwasher soap tablets.

4. Name five things around your computer.

Lamp, ashtray, empty glass (from last night), empty cigarette box and a cup of coffee.

5. Name five things in your medicine cabinet.

Tampax Lites, hair spray/gel, Band-Aids, peroxide and sparkle gel for when I’m goin’ out on the town.

Only my old friend Kristin would understand what I’m saying with that phrase, but suffice it to say that it used to induce giggles and clinking of beer bottles. 🙂

Just finished some editing. Have to write a story tomorrow and edit last-minute submissions. One of my mega-documents is pending approval — it took two fucking days to edit that 42-page monstrosity (I didn’t write it, and it sucks mightily because of it).

Met my upstairs neighbor last night. The cats howled till I came in the house and fed their fat asses. She asked if I’d want to go to church with her sometime. I politely declined, so then she invited me to a candle party the night before my housewarming. I debated inviting her to mine but decided against it, but I will go to the candle soiree. Like I need more fucking crap around this house! 🙂

Well, I’ve smoked my last cigarette and am going to finish my last cocktail (oh, yeah — I need to drink/smoke when I edit! The stories usually turn out better, I think, when I’m loaded). Too bad I have to go to bed when my energy and concentration is at its highest.

Sweet dreams, y’all!

Bill gives us his thoughts on Boss’s Day. Catch the sequel, too!

I skipped a meeting with my boss today — that was celebration a la Dawn!

I had a two-hour conversation with a convicted child molestor, an hour-long conversation with a lady visiting my office from South Africa, and a whole buncha coffee and caramel corn while I edited submissions of varying coherence from people who want to run for elected office in my agency. I’m going to chase it all down with a Diet Dr. Pepper and a handful of semi-sweet morsels and try to cram four days’ worth of work into the next day and a half. Not to mention that my ass was here till 8:30 last night and will be there at least that late tonight.

Upper McManagement just snuck another furlough day into the schedule in November . Of the three furloughs we’ve had so far, I’ve worked during two of them. And the next one should be no exception. Y’know, I was on board with it when they were supposed to be the occasional half-days, but now they’ve become monthly full-days — and the paycheck it impacts is the one that rent comes out of.

I was gonna offer up some MP3s that are getting me through the day, but both Blogger and my web host are being menstrual (as am I), so fuck it. Another day. 🙂

Props to Chris for bringing me back to my roots!

And if you can’t get enough of the jokes (and my asides), go tease your hair or comb your mullet and visit Pittsburghese dot com for some language lessons! 🙂

YOU KNOW YOU’RE FROM PENNSYLVANIA

You know what a “State Store” is, and your out of state friends find it incredulous that you can’t purchase liquor at the mini-mart.

You don’t understand what all the hype is about for Yuengling or Rolling Rock beer, you’ve been drinking it for years even though Iron City is cheaper.

You live for summer & fall, when street fairs signal the beginning of funnel cake season.

You know what REAL potpie is.  You ask the waitress for “dippy eggs” for breakfast. Your turkey has “filling,” not “stuffing,” and most certainly, NOT “dressing.”

You consider Pittsburgh to be “out west,” and you know the fastest way to Philly is the Turnpike.

When someone says 1972, you think “Agnes,” and when someone says 1979, you think “TMI”. (Personally, I think of being 5 years old and celebrating the Pirates winning the World Series and the Steelers winning the Super Bowl — D.P.)

You call sloppy joes, “barbecue.”

When it snows, they put cinders on the roads instead of sand.

Know that Yuengling is pronounced “Ying-ling,” and believe that it really is a premium beer (which comes from growing up on Schlitz and Iron City).

The first day of Buck season and the first day of Doe season are school holidays.

One of the highlights of your life was a field trip to Penn’s Cave and Horseshoe curve.

You know exactly what to do when your mother tells you to “redd up” your room.

You know the time and location of every “wing night” in a 20 mile radius.

You don’t think people from Philly or Pittsburgh talk funny.

All of your childhood vacations were trips to the Jersey shore.

You design your children’s Halloween costumes to fit over a snowsuit.

Driving is always better in winter because the potholes are filled with snow.

You find 20 degrees just a little chilly.

You can recite the four seasons: almost winter, winter, still winter, and construction.

Words like “hoagie”, “crick”, “chipped ham”, and “pop” actually mean something to you.

You can use the phrase “fire hall wedding reception” and not even bat an eye.

You think nothing of an Amish buggy on the road.

You learned long ago how to “step carefully” around the buggy tie-ups in the supermarket parking lot.

You constantly refer to Pennsylvania as “PA” (pronounced Pee-ay). How many other states do that?

You can go 2 weeks in winter without sunshine and think this is normal.

You know that Blue Ball, Intercourse, Climax, Bird-in-Hand, Virginville, Paradise, Mars, and Slippery Rock are PA towns. (Don’t forget Beaver, Big Beaver, Beaver County and Beaver Falls. Oh, and what about Moon Township? — D.P.)

There is no such thing as a “Philly Cheesesteak”.  Its just called a Cheesesteak since everybody knows where they come from.

Your idea of a traffic jam is ten cars waiting to pass a tractor on the highway.

“Vacation” means going to Hershey Park for the weekend.

You know several people who have hit deer more than once.

You often switch from “Heat” to “A/C” in the same day. (Um, we do that in Virginia, too — D.P.)

You use a down comforter in the summer.

Your grandparents drive at 65mph through 13 feet of snow during a raging blizzard, without flinching.

You see people wearing hunting clothes at social events.

You install security lights on your house and garage and then leave both unlocked.

You think of the major food groups as deer meat, fish, and berries.

You carry jumper cables in your car and your girlfriend or wife knows how to use them.

There are 7 empty cars running in the parking lot at the Sheetz mini-mart at any given time.

You can actually eat cold pizza (even for breakfast) and know others who do the same. Those from NY find this “barbaric.” (And here I thought all college students did this, too — D.P.)

You not only have heard of Birch Beer, but you know that it comes in several colors: Red, White, Brown, Gold.

At least 5 people on your block (for the city folks) have electric “candles” in all or most of their windows all year long.

You know several places to purchase or that serve Scrapple, Summer Sausage (Lebanon Bologna), and Hot Bacon Dressing. (Mmmm, I miss Sweet Lebanon — D.P.)

You can’t go to a Pennsylvania Wedding without hearing the “Chicken Dance” and at least 5 other Polkas. (Don’t ask me to polka. It’s ugly — D.P.)

You actually understand these jokes and will send them on to your PA friends too.

You. Yes you, moonbat. The asshole in the lavender Beamer. The one at the corner of Jordan and Duke. Yeah, I’m talking to you. See, you were in the right-turn-only lane. I was beside you in the lane that could go left, right or straight. But see, you wanted to go left (but your dumb ass was in the wrong lane) and I wanted to turn right (which I had every right to do). So when I went to turn right, your stupid ass decided to go straight. So I had to throw on the brakes and let your stupid ass escape unscathed and I actually had a schoolbus driver behind me throwing his hands up in the air because of your stupidity. That’s why I honked. If I’d been in a worse mood, I’d’a followed your ass and inserted my hooker heel in your rectum.

But because I was in a good mood this morning, I just let you off with an angry honk. But next time, kindly remove your headpiece or whatever was blocking you from reading the clearly illustrated markings on the pavement. Moron.

Budget meeting in two hours. Speaking of wanting to shove a hooker heel into someone’s rectum. …

Rejected headline: One nation, in denial. …

I don’t get it.

Seriously, the whole federal battle over the Pledge of Allegiance, particularly whether the “under g-d” line, is taking place in the wrong arena. Then again, what the hell do I know?

As a longtime nonsectarian, I used to fall silent during our morningly Pledge when I was a wee lass, particularly at the “under g-d” part. Even now, the Pledge is more of a tradition (and a PITA, as far as I used to be concerned) than a battle cry. I excelled at skipping homeroom, so I don’t know that I said it even once when I was in high school.

What I’m not getting is whether the atheist activist in charge of this brouhaha wants the Pledge to be banned or whether he wants to get rid of the “under g-d” part. Anyone who’s seen a news report that I haven’t seen, please feel free to enlighten me. (For the record, I’ve been an atheist and, most recently, an agnostic. And I still don’t get this guy’s point.)

I mean, with what would we replace that particular phrase? One nation … in purgatory? In hell? Under fear of terrorists? Under economic distress? Not under much of an ozone layer? Under a dominatrix? Over a couch cushion? In a hole? In denial? The list goes on.

I revere our flag. I salute it when necessary. I get mad when people burn our flag. I am careful to never let the cloth touch the ground. I am frequently reminded of what that symbol meant so long ago and what it means today. And while, on one hand, I don’t need a mantra in my head about it, the Pledge did come in useful for teaching me how to tell my right side from my left.

I’d sooner, though, pledge allegiance to our fags. I mean, come on, at least they wouldn’t have put red, white and blue together on the same piece of fabric, right? And horizontal stripes make anything look fat — I am certain they would have done a nice print or at least some vertical stripes. Now THAT, my friends, I would salute!!!