New Word

Watching the very beginning of a No Reservations (Anthony Bourdain's show on The Travel Channel, which has new episodes starting on New Year's day, thank goodness!) in Indonesia last night, I found my new favorite word and/or quote of the year...

"My snarkology will beat your inner...whatever - anytime."

It's things like this that Tony says which make me believe that if he and I knew each other, we'd be drinking buddies fo sho.

Now, if you'll pardon me, we have some lying about to get back to...

My head...

I drank the world last night, and have been paying the price for it all day long now.

It's almost 5:30 and I STILL feel like crap.

But at least we had fun. That's all that matters, right? Fuck the fact that my kidneys and liver are working overtime to process all the "fun" that was had...that's not a big deal. They're young. They'll get over it.

At least, I hope they will.

Wait a minute...do we have multiple kidneys? We all have two, don't we?

Bleh.

Have yourself a, well, you know...

I left up my last post for a couple days longer than expected so as to ensure that everyone saw the news of the new job. Although I guess I could just keep mentioning it in my next few posts to ensure the word gets out, too. Ok, fine. I will. I have a new job. Did I mention the new job? Im excited, because I GOT A JOB! (But, again, it doesn't start until January 8th, so don't ask me about how it's going until after then. Because right now, all I can say is it's pretty fucking easy so far! I wake up late, and watch t.v., and play with the dog, and wrap presents, and then go to the bar at the end of the day to reward myself for all my not-hard work. It's awesome. Except the pay sort of sucks at this stage of the game...)

I just transfered the bulk of my savings into my checking account so as to ensure our ability to pay the mortgage, the gas bill, the water bill (which is eerily the same amount as it was 2 months ago...hmmm...), and some other shit at the end of this month. I hate, hate, HATE that I'll be starting over again from scratch with the building of the savings when I start this new job, but it'll be fine. We'll be fine. I see this one lasting a good long time like the one I had at the Big Bad Mortgage Company a little while ago, and this is for a better company than they could EVER hope to be. So HA! Plus, my salary at this job is starting where my salary at the old job (at BBMC) ended, so I can only go up from here, whereas I was almost at a stand-still with it there. So that's a double HA HA!!

In other news, I have ordered my wedding dress, have a meeting with the fabulously flamboyant "Antonio" next Saturday to design and order my veil and tiara to go with it, and so that's a good place to be when it comes to the wedding stuff. We've got the photographers booked, the downpayment for the booking of the caterers paid and happy, and the only thing left to do for the party, really, is to look into dj's. I grow increasingly worried about the Twin's plan to do the flowers for the event, because of all the issues that'll be involved with it. Never mind the fact that she's my maid of honor, and she'll need to be there for me if I start to freak out when I'm getting ready. How can she do that if she's over at the church setting up flowers and shit? But how about the issue of AFTER the wedding, she'll need to be with me and the rest of the wedding party as we tool around town, drinking (a modest amount of) champagne, taking pictures, and starting the early celebration of the attachment of the ball and chain...so she can't really afford the time it will take to go to the reception venue to set up centerpieces, cake tables, and other various decorated things. Plus there's the whole issue of her never having done flowers outside of California for anything.

It would save us a TON of money, though. So she and I need to have more discussions about it, I think. It's keeping me awake at night. Which is ridiculous! Because, you know, the wedding isn't happening for another, um, 10 FUCKING MONTHS!!! Jeezy...

Anyway, I'd better go. My head is wet, and I need to dry it, and then there are the presents that need to be wrapped. I got some good stuff today for the fiance, yo! Christmas is FUN!!

Happy weekend, all. I hope everyone has a really truly wonderful holiday. Ta!

Back to life...sort of.

Ok, first things first...I GOT A JOB!!! Yay!

Very happy over here, in case anyone was wondering. :)

I don't start until January 8th, but that's fine. It'll make taxes for this year easier, and I could use the time to myself anyway. Living on savings is fun!!

Now, I can focus on the important things. Like the next installment of the Destroyed Puppy Toys Saga. 'Cause I KNOW all you were wondering when I'd get around to doing it! So are ya ready? Here we go...

Izzy has had some favorite toys that have lasted a bit longer than the others. This frog, for example, is one of the toys that she seemed content with allowing to live a longer toy life in our home than most of the other ones we've given her. It was the toy that kind of threw off all of our bets for other toys, because we were never sure if she'd treat them the same way she treated Froggy.

In the picture below, you can see how Froggy looked for most of his life. Happy, all in one piece, squeakable and scuzzy, he was a happy frog. Liked to be thrown about and chased and squeaked and all that good stuff. One day, Izzy got quiet with him on the floor cushion (a.k.a. The Pillow of Death) she goes to for her usual disembowelment ritual. It takes a couple of minutes for me to notice when she's gotten quiet and all serious and shit.

Poor Froggy. When we finally figured out what she was up to, he looked...LIKE THIS!!:



Thus ended the life of Froggy, may he rest in peace.

I can't remember who we pulled out next for her to play with, but I'll tell you the story of Puppy toy next, because he's cute, and he was the one that I had to pull bits of out of Izzy's ass the day after she disemboweled him. Which she chose to do through his head. Doesn't look like much in the pictures, but let me assure you, what I removed out of Izzy's ass the following day went to show that Puppy had a lot of stuffing in the neck and head area, apparently. A LOT.



Here's a kind of close-up of the head hole. Which also occured on the forementioned Pillow of Death. Look at his floppy limbs! His cute, floppy ears! How could she DO that to him? True, she allowed him to be tossed around and enjoyed for a good two weeks longer than her dad and I thought she would, but nevertheless, it was a sad day when Puppy was finally taken care of. He had his revenge, though. Izzy slowed down considerably that night, and seemed to not be feeling all too well. I learned why the next day, of course. When I think about it, processing that 3 inches of stuffing through her intestines would probably be like me trying to process about a foot and a half of stuffing through mine. So I feel for her. And I thank GOD I'm a smart human that wouldn't choose to ingest polyester toy stuffing if given the opportunity, of course. She also eats poo. So there's that.


And that's where we stand at this point in the toy saga! You've met Puppy, Froggy, and Ducky so far. I think you only have a couple more to go, so yay for you!

Tonight, I get to pick a place to celebrate the new job offer (and my acceptance of said offer, of course), and eat cookies that the soon to be in-laws sent us for Christmas, and then hopefully I'll be able to sleep. Because the last two nights? Yeah, not so much. This shit had better quit it by the time January 8th rolls around, dammit! Insomnia + New Job = Impending Disaster, I think.

More tomorrow, I assure you. Swear to God. Cross my heart...

Off my game

Ok, clearly, I'm a bit out of it. I can honestly say that when I don't have a regular routine of heading into the office, getting morning stuff done, and then having a few minutes to blog, I just get all out of whack. So I haven't kept up with the puppy-toy massacre fun, but I will post more stories, I swear. It's just that this week has been a good one for me to think and reflect and try to keep a good attitude about finding a job and everything. And it gets in the way of my desire to blog. Apparently.

Here's what's been on my mind this morning:

2006 Year End Review

Yeah, 2006 SUCKED.

That is all.

And it's not that I don't appreciate the fact that this year included the proposal from the man I love and will love till you know what. But it's that it also included all that other crap. The finding of what I thought was the perfect job, but which only lead to more stress than I've experienced in a long time due to money issues, health issues, MORE money issues, and dammit, if I ever think I should go ahead and rely on quarterly bonuses to make up for a low salary, someone please, PLEASE slap the shit out of me, ok? Because it does NOT make up for a low salary. And I don't deserve a low salary. And THAT'S what I should have been thinking back when I took that job.

And then my girlie parts had to go all wonky on me. Not the year before when I had perfectly lovely health insurance that would pay for the appointments and the tests and the follow-up visits...nooooo. Had to happen this year when all that stuff was being paid for by moi and moi alone. (Thanks to the little health benefit allowance I was given at my job, it worked out for the most part, but here I am, six months later, needing to go in for my follow-up pap, and I'm out of work, and trying to deal with paying for the special emergency room visit I had about 2 months ago...)

And that's the next thing that happened. First, the most high-maintenance, asshole of a boss that I've ever met in my LIFE had to go and fire me from the job that wasn't all that great anyway (except for the people I worked with...loved them!), and then I had to go and celebrate that release by getting pissed and falling down. Which went to prove just how awesome I am. Now I have to deal with ER bullshit. But I am also thanking the stars above that the people I've talked to about said ER bullshit have been sooo, sooooo nice about it all.

And now I'm short on time because I need to go to yet another interview with a company that is considering me for a position with them. This will be the third interview I've had with them. Apparently, meeting with the office manager and the head of the department I'd be in wasn't enough. Now I get to meet a group of people, or some shit. I can't say no to this crap, though. I can't afford to. If they're willing to pay me a decent salary, this could be a very good position for me and my future interests. So I will go, and I will smile, and I will be happy and have fun, and all that stuff. And then I'll drink a beer tonight to them. In hopes that they will be able to make a decision about hiring me based on the 3 fucking hours they've spent with me thus far.

Hope all of YOU had better years to sum up than I did. I know I did it a bit early, but I figure the next two weeks won't change my mind about how crappy the rest of the year was, and since it was on my mind and all...I just thought I'd go ahead and share. Because sharin' is carin', man.

Happy weekend...

Watch out for bedsores...

I got home from the part time jobby today at about 1:30 p.m. to find the fiance still sitting on the couch where I left him when I went to work this morning at about 8:40 a.m. It's currently about 5:20 p.m., and he hasn't moved since I got home. Lord only knows if he's moved since I left him this morning! (No, wait...he had to have. Unless he has mastered the ability to transport items with his mind, because he ate all the rest of the Baked Ruffles I had bought yesterday, dammit, and they were on top of the refrigerator, so he had to have gotten up. Which is honestly a load off my mind...) It is his day off, though, and since he had to get up at 6 a.m. to go to the restaurant to do something which is someone else's job in the first place, I guess it's ok that he's been sitting still for the past 4 hours. I personally have to get up to pee at least every 2 hours when I'm being a couch potato. He has the bladder of a camel, though, it seems.

No update on the doggy toy saga today, I'm afraid. Definitely tomorrow. Today has been spent on the phone with hospital bill people and health insurance people and filling out online applications for Large National Company that apparently might wanna hire me, yay! (Hopefully, a salary from Large National Company might help pay for the newest hospital bill I received...one totalling $1,394 that I got last Thursday in the mail. Apparently, when one goes to the emergency room at KU Med, they get billed by the doctors who see you, the radiologists that x-ray you, AND the hospital for all that stuff over again and then some other stuff including the "splint" they gave me which came to a rounded out total of - drum roll pleeaase... - $155.00!! WTF? I wore it for 2 days. It's made of foam and nylon and has velcro on it. $155? Seriously? I would have understood if it cost $75, but $155!!? That's 3 Monday nights in a row of dollar sushi right there, muthafucker! And I sure as hell need the dollar sushi more than I needed that fucking stupid-ass splint. Jeezus.)

I'm off to find some beer now...latahhhhh...

Welcome The Destructor!!

I've been meaning to get to this "project" for a little while now, and finally found time to get to it this afternoon after I finished doing all the actual worthwhile crap I needed to do (see "paid a bill" and "ate lunch" in my Encyclopedia of Worthwhile Activities).

Our dog likes little fluffy dog toys with squeakers inside them. What dog doesn't, right? She likes to squeak them repeatedly to show us how smart she is ("Look mom and dad! I found the squeaky thing! I found it, and I know how to chew on it in a way that makes it make this noise over and over and over and over again as I bite! I am AWESOME! Gimme doggy candy to reward my awesomeness!! Dammit, I said gimme doggy candy, bitches!" (We think she might have anger management issues, actually...she's so mean sometimes.)), and dropping them on our hands only to stare at them and then at us and then back at them which thereby signals the ever-present desire she has to have us throw her toy across the room (any toy will do, really...she even likes me to do it with her blanky, for chrissakes...) so she can chase after it and then bring it back to do the whole thing all over again. Sometimes, she will grab the toy at the same time we do, and growl as she "fights" us for it. Dogs are so damned cute, huh?

Anyway, we buy these toys in little bunches from the $1 toy box thingy they have at Target when we have a few bucks to spare, and we give them to her over time, almost as much for our own enjoyment as for hers. See, fiance and I like to make little bets on just how long the toy will make it. Sometimes, I only bet a day or two. Sometimes, we bet on which part of the toy she'll rip into first, such as the ear or the tail or what have you. Sometimes, we're shocked at how long they last, and sometimes we're shocked at how quickly they go. It's a never ending guessing game, though, as each toy has a different life span all it's own.

Take the ducky for example...this was the 2nd ducky we bought her, as the very first one was the first squeaky toy she ever had. That one lasted a surprisingly long time, and it was the beak that she finally managed to rip into in order to disembowel the poor thing. But she had it for something like 2 months before she did that, so yeah...that ducky was a strong bastid. We did not get pictures of that ducky, however. I only started collecting the corpses of the toys with this last batch we bought, so that first ducky is lost forever in some Kansas landfill, I'm afraid.

This one was her 2nd ducky. And she lasted approximately 1 and 1 half hours.



Clearly, The Destructor (affectionately known as "Izzy" most of the time) feels badly about her terrifying and horrible reign of madness over all squeaky toys that enter our home. See?

She doesn't want them to die, dammit! But she doesn't want them to live either. Mwahahahahahahahaha!!!!

Anywho, I'll be posting pictures of other toys and telling their stories over the next week or so, now that I have them all photographed for posterity. This event, which I prefer to refer to as "The 5 Days of Faith's Attempt to Distract Herself from Her Crappy, Crappy Life," and which will likely last more than 5 days, ending sometime around next Friday, will terminate itself with the telling of the story of my favorite toy of all. Don't miss it! It's the cutest toy EVER!!! Honest!

Ok, I'm going to go watch more t.v. now. Bye!

A toilet as old as my ass....

Does anyone remember the days when people could smoke in bathrooms? You know, when people were so desperate for a cigarette, they couldn't wait until after they finished taking a shit, they actually needed to smoke while they took a shit?

No?

Oh wait...anyone remember those days except for XO? (:P)

Yeah, I think I was just a kid when they outlawed smoking in most work environments...I still remember the days of having a smoking section in the back of a plane, but as far as smoking inside of a bathroom is concerned, that had pretty much been eliminated by the time I was old enough to remember it. (I was born in '74. In California. They might've waited a lot longer in the greater US of A to ban smoking in bathrooms, so this might be a regional issue, too, now that I think about it.)

Most bathrooms have been retrofitted accordingly since those bans were passed. But I just noticed for the first time today that they haven't remodelled the building I'm currently working in at my part time job in a loooo-hooooong time. Because there's still an ashtray in there. Yep. For those folks who prefered to take a smoke with their shit. Or whatever. It's right above the toilet paper dispenser. Which incidentally works as though it's over 20 years old, so that makes more sense now.

I don't get it. But I don't get the people that like to read in the bathroom either. Very rarely, when I'm having an attack of the previous night's Chinese food, or what have you, do I feel the need to entertain myself while taking a shit. Usually, though, I like to get in, do my bidness, and get out. As fresh and clean as possible.

Bleh. Smoking in the bathroom. That's just a habit gone wild, if you ask me...

Sorry...

The weekend sort of sucked, this week is going sort of slowly, I'm sort of not sleeping much, and my ass and arms hurt. In different ways. But I'll spare y'all the details.

See, I went shopping for wedding dresses on Saturday, and found one, and had SUCH a great time!

And then USC lost. And I was surrounded by people that kept walking up to the bar saying, "UCLA is beating USC?" And I had to keep myself calm so as not to SMASH MY DRINK IN ALL OF THEIR FUCKING FACES!!!! Because I liked my drink...it was the only thing keeping me afloat during the game. So to smash it into the faces of IDIOTS would have been really poor decision making on my part. So I stayed calm. And then I got drunk. It was lovely.

And then Sunday was not so pretty. I felt crappy, then the Chiefs lost, then I came home and had to do laundry...it was a really blah day.

So then I didn't sleep but maybe 2 or 3 hours on Sunday night into Monday. And yesterday I started getting depressed about my job search and had to send a placating e-mail to my soon to be mother-in-law (who doesn't understand my desire to remain an e-mail kinda girl over being a phone conversation kinda girl) and went to the smelly gym down the street for an afternoon workout with all the other out of work losers, students, and general slouches that apparently have nothing better to do than work out in the middle of the day. Just. Like. ME!

The only thing that saved the day was the fact that fiance had the day off and made the fajitas we had for dinner. I made the guacamole, though. So yeah. There was that.

Today, I feel a bit sluggish because of the cold that won't go away (but rather disappears for a day or two, skulking behind my healthy blood making me think I'm all clear again, before it JUMPS back out in front all, "HA! You're gonna be stuffy-headed and icky-throated and generally tired all day long again because WE'RE STILL HERE MUTHAFUCKA!!! GOTCHA!!"), and the Advil PM that I took to ensure that my sleep surpassed the 2 - 3 hour mark last night, and my arms hurt because the workout I did at the smelly gym yesterday is hitting me HARD, and I'm just not in the mood folks. (It was smelly like a zoo. And I so wish I was kidding...)

Maybe tomorrow I will be.

(Actually, I have an interview at Big National Company tomorrow morning now, since they just called me to set one up, and so even though I can't sleep in now like I was planning, I guess having a job interview will make up for that problem. Woo! Fingers all crossed still? Good. Thank you for the help...)