Friday, April 27, 2007

asap. Or rather, A Sap.

Thursday, April 26, 2007


I had an interview with a recruiter today. He was really cute and then he used the word "asap".


I don't mean he said a - s - a - p. He actually said "aysap".

That's when I developed the suspicion that he might be the "sap" in "asap".

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Jeeves threw up twice while I was on this little jaunt, once in the hallway and once on his bed.

He seems cheerful enough, I just hope that it's not indicative of anything other than having also eaten a wooden spatula.
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I decided on the way home that when I get a second dog, his name will be Giles, so I can have Jeeves and Giles.

Hopefully Giles will not have the same propensity towards expulsion of bodily contents that Jeeves does.

grown up

Monday, April 23, 2007

I am now the proud owner of a business suit. It cost $18.72 from Target. I look very smart*.





*smart as in "dashingly or impressively neat or trim in appearance, as persons, dress, etc "

A picture is worth...etcetera...[makes appropriate hand gesture]

Sunday, April 22, 2007



I sent this photo to my parents a few hours after the Incident. (It looks a lot less flooded than it was, so they don't panic and they can see how happy it made Jeeves, so they might think the extra $$ on the water bill would be worth it).

Dear Parents

Sunday, April 22, 2007

Dear Parents,

Um.

So.

The garden flooded last night. I have no idea how it happened, but the red plastic tap by the hose faucet got turned on and was spilling water like it was going out of fashion all night long.

This is strange because I have not been anywhere near that tap since the day you left and I watered those few plants you said needed attention. It has rained about every three or four days since then (including last night's big storm), so I have not been in the garden as watering the plants has been unnecessary. I also could not have touched that tap as I only became aware of it's existence today, reaching around between mud, ivy roots and the odd purplish, grey slug, while trying to ascertain if there was a broken pipe.

Unless Jeeves has somehow developed opposable thumbs, I cannot explain how this happened. I am, however, beginning to suspect him because he thinks it's the absolute cat's pajamas and has been running back and forth as fast as he can through the small lake that was once the lawn.

He has been shut out of the house at this point in time.

...Out of curiosity and hopefully not necessity, should I need to shut off the water main in the future where would it be located?

-Your loving, wet, muddy, distressed second born.

Sunday, April 22, 2007

Thankyou to Verizon Wireless

Here, images of my disfigurement:



And for kicks, here's what I really look like:


and my normal eye:



I hope my current appearance, not unlike that of Quasimodo, won't make you love me less.

Letter to Mater

Saturday, April 21, 2007

Hi mummy!

I have a job interview Monday for an administrative assistant position in Palo Alto. The salary is $40-45,000.

I also have an awful eye infection that's terribly, terribly painful. So painful, in fact, that I braved going to the doctor and had some nurse practitioner tell me that I have an eye infection, because having a red, puffy eyelid and excruciating pain wasn't enough of an indication for me. She also showed me an article about it on the "internet" - very clever. You know, I hear they have this "internet" thing on computers now.

She gave me opthalmic antibiotics. Which was what I went in for. Well, that and you know how I love sitting around in waiting rooms for hours reading ancient copies of "Ladies Home Journal" and the Palo Alto Daily News (Soft, strong and thoroughly absorbant. Much like Quilted Northern). The whole experience just reinforced my mistrust of doctors. Hopefully the infection will go away soon, because it makes me not want to do anything except lie around and feel sorry for myself.

I've made lentil soup twice now with potatoes and carrots. It's great and lasts forever.

The neighbours across the cul de sac, the ones that no one talks to, with that yappy black and white spaniel have had their tree cut down. It's the big tree between their house and Joann's. It looks awful and I've decided that they must be Satanists, because who else would cut down such a big beautiful tree?

Miss you lots.

A

PS. Oh yeah, the faucet in the kitchen is brok-ed. I'm not sure what to do. John said he'd take a look at it, but he's gone to watch them release a condor in the East Pinnacles today.

Watermelons!!

Wednesday, April 18, 2007


Okay, okay. One more entry critcizing middle America


Only Oklahoma and (possibly some other states) would actually declare a watermelon their state vegetable - besides the fact that it is generally considered a fruit, it also has almost no nutritional value.

I actually don't need to say anything about it, I think except:

Laughing Bill says:
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

hahahahahahahaha


I also thank the Flaming Lips for bringing this to my attention.

Purity Balls

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

My general fear of committing to someone is lapsing. This is how committed I am:

I changed my myspace profile to say that I'm "In a Relationship".

Big deal right? I still can't call him... that word.... you know, the one people use to describe a person that they have sex with but do other things with as well...?

Unless of course you're one of those girls who attended these. Because these girls only hold hands. For those of you too lazy to click the link (and perhaps have not yet discovered the wonders of tabbed browsing), it's the Wikipedia article on Purity Balls. Basically fathers take their daughters to these balls in order to ensure there virginity stays intact before the girls wedding night.

This is an archaic, disgusting practice.

The Wikipedia article claims that it is in response to the Christian ideal of sexual abstinence is losing favour in our current society.

I find it disturbing that any father has that much interest in his daughters sex life. It seems that unless he has raised an insecure, naive doormat of a daughter, she should have no problem finding her way in the world. I find it more disturbing that any father would take such an active role in his daughters sex life as to make the decision for her whether or not to have sex. Fathers sign the "Covenant of Purity and Protection":

"I, (daughter's name)'s father, choose before God to cover my daughter as her authority and protection in the area of purity. I will be pure in my own life as a man, husband and father. I will be a man of integrity and accountability as I lead, guide and pray over my daughter and as the high priest in my home. This covering will be used by God to influence generations to come."

Speaking of active role in his daughters sex life, let's talk about the language here, specifically the term "cover my daughter". The term "cover" is a term that breeders use when bringing a male to breed with the female. I'm horrified. Especially looking later on in the covenant to read "This covering will be used by God to influence generations to come."

Incest aside, I also find it disturbing that these poor, poor girls are treated as though they must be passed from one man to another. The father signs the contract and then "gives her away" when she gets married.

The picture that I get from this is that there are thousands of parents out there raising little girls with the idea that they are property and not to be taken seriously. And they will grow up and marry men as equally perverted and dominating as their fathers and because they are such doormats, will also raise little girls with no sense of self except through what the church tells them they are.

Monday, April 16, 2007

I love the internet

I discovered this web page the other day. It's the Researchers Against Inactivity Related Disorders.

No joke.

Inactivity Related Disorders.

You can have a disorder because of your inactivity.

"Hey what's wrong with you?"

"Aw nothing. It's just my IRD."

"Your IRD? What's that?"

"My Inactivity Related Disorder."

"Oh. What's that caused by?"

"Inactivity."

"They got a cure for that?"

"Yeah."

"What is it?"

"Activity."

I realize the knowledge put forth by the website is commonplace. My shock lies in the fact that the problem is so prevalent that someone has come up with a name for it. And are actively assembling against it. Also that the knowledge isn't commonplace enough, hence the actual creation of the website:

"The major focus of Researchers against Inactivity-related Disorders (RID) is to educate others that physical inactivity, such as a sedentary lifestyle, increases the risk of multiple chronic disorders."



Note the thumbs up that the couch potato is giving us. I'm not sure why he is giving us a thumbs up or why he appears to be wearing an old fashioned flying helmet.

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

another terrible bar

I went to a terrible bar on Friday night. It was really awful and may I never have the misfortune to go there again.

It both depressed and mortified me to be there - exemplary of suburbia cliche and south bay culture.
Featuring rude men sitting at the bar and about 6 silly girls dancing to godawful reggae-ish dance music on four feet of dance floor in the corner, it was the epitome of bad taste. I'll save my loathing of reggae and my even more intense loathing of dance music (especially dance music featuring reggae beats and some man shouting loudly in a jamaican accent over it) for another time, sufficed to say the music was terrible in the worst kind of bar music terrible. I don't think I need to describe the silly girls, because we've all seen them (or in some cases been them) in their stretchy black trousered, drunken, celebration of mediocrity, characterlessness and settling-for-less, dancing with each other, doing their best to mimic what they've seen on MTV.

As for the rude men, I actually had a guy purposely stand in front of me because he felt he had been waiting longer at the bar than me. Point of contention aside, I wanted water. First of all, who does that? Clearly someone who learned all too well and takes all too seriously the painful lesson of "no cuttsies" learned in kindergarten and also someone who doesn't go to bars very often... (not that there's anything wrong with _that_...) Second of all, I wanted water...life giving and hangover preventative and easily the shortest drink that a bartender can prepare, given that it is free and and comes out of an unemptyable tap and could be served by monkey. Literally.
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In short, when I want to drunkenly celebrate mediocrity, characterlessness and settling-for-less, I prefer the Nuthouse. Unfortunately, I have been afraid to set foot in the Nuthouse since the Strange Man From Portugal Incident. Also unfortunately, I think I know people that like this place and it's possible that I may be drunk enough at some point to be talked into going back there. The theory of which is probably a large part of their marketing strategy.

Thursday, April 5, 2007

Final Chapter:

Thursday, March 29, 2007

Via the miraculous invention known commonly as the "text message":

"I'm not interested in a relationship with you of any sort. Please don't contact me any more."

"Ok. Thanks. Was that so hard? :)"

No, it really wasn't. I'm a silly girl. He's still a creep though.