Category Archives: ooops…

kudos to me

Kudos to me today!

i was on Facebook (because it is some time of some day and that’s usually where i am) and someone i know and love put up this quote:    don’t tell me the sky is the limit when there are foot prints on the moon.unknown

which is so cute and cool, because this is a teenager, and she is testing her wings and learning about limits, and non limits and how to be beautiful and fierce and loving at the same time.  and it is such a cool quote!

and Kudos To Me, because my first reaction was to say have you ever wondered why they don’t say FEETPRINTS?  because FEET is the accurate pluralization of FOOT, and there was more than one FOOT up on the moon.  and besides that, i don’t think after all this time there would even still BE feet prints, or foot prints, especially with little robot things that roll around up there, maybe sweeping up after everyone like the little robot on the Jetsons.

but i DIDN’T say any of this, and so deserve kudos or the “restrained-your-bitch-reflex” of the day award.

from somebody's tumblr and originally c. in the 70's or something

from somebody’s tumblr and originally c. in the 70’s or something, Hanna Barbara?

needed: video surveillance of sleepy stripper

i’m supposed to be asleep right now,

but … well, clearly i’m not.  i woke up and started fiddling on the computer for quite some time before i realized i had the window open and my box fan going in there.  which isn’t how i went to sleep.  not a big deal; i’m sure people do this kind of thing all the time – adjust things in the middle of the night.  but i always find it humorous because i don’t know if it’s just something i did, or one of my “others”.  i’ve woken many times (is woken a word?) to find myself upside down in bed, in the living room on the couch, or in a completely different get up (or none at all)

this is all good and well, cause it doesn’t really matter to me.  i just hope this doesn’t ever happen to me if i’m on a group outing, like an impromptu sleepover after a good party at a friend’s;  ’cause waking up in someone’s house naked, when you didn’t mean to be…that can get complicated!

egyptian days

today is an Egyptian Day.

according to  Nigel Pennick’s research, today (June 22) is a somewhat unlucky day.  don’t worry, he lists a good many of them in his book, so it’s not a SPECIAL unlucky day, just a regular one.

but i started off today feeling rather wonky.  out of body.  swirly.  my sister said i needed to go hold a stone, so i climbed the stairs, sat on my bed, and held a large crystal rock i was given.  i had visions.  and journeys.  and hunger pains, so i went down and ate some Cheerios.  but i did feel better.

then i went to work.  now, this is what Nigel is saying in his book: if you can at all, don’t do that.  don’t go to work on an Egyptian Day.  or, you know, win the LOTTO the day  before so you don’t have to.  but i didn’t.  win the LOTTO that is, so i DID have to go in to work.  and while i was there the computer’s crashed so that customers couldn’t help themselves and had to wait in line for us, and we had to do everything old school style:  sans online software.  whew.  not ideal.

but then, to add more excitement to the picture, i rolled over the top of my friend’s foot with the chair and potentially broke her toe.  to this she exclaimed in true French fashion.  so i ran to get ice.  but of course, there was no quick-break-ice-pack in the medic box, so i had to go up 4 flights.  and that doesn’t sound bad, except that the speed of our elevator is sort of like my Grandma when she was leaving church with her walker that she called “Ethel”…slow .  but finally i did get to the floor i needed, and still no ice bags.  so then i had to crack open ice from the ice trays and fill a baggie (which of course i couldn’t find in the first four drawers).

but finally – friend in ice and computers coming back from hibernation – i saw a cute patron and all seemed like it might right itself.  but wait!  the day is still not over!  the final ‘guest’ of the day runs in to pick up something and gets into a lengthy conversation with a co-worker, while the other workers are breathing like dragons down my neck and security is turning all the lights off.  and by now i’ve been twitchy for several hours (feeling the need to shift personalities) and i’m hungry and dreaming of liquid beverages you can’t get in a vending machine.

which i consumed upon coming home.

(after i drove around for 1/2 an hour trying to get a pizza, getting cash, avoiding people going to a baseball game, avoiding the three cop cars hanging around the middle of the street and the two on the corner whose occupants were wrestling a drug addict on the ground spouting blood from his face)

so yeah, next time just stay home.

collector’s anonymous

i’m a “collector”.  have been since i was a wee thing.  my sister and i collect comic books, regular books, old books, ephemera, toys, vintage finds, quirky odds and ends and broken crap we think we can fix or turn into art.  it’s a fun hobby, but as of yet a disorganized one.  i’m hoping to get my “poop in a group” and get more organized and stream lined so i don’t end up like this:

this is a horader.  he lives down by where i walk every day.  i think he owns two houses that are full of boxes, cat litter, plastic tubs, old game boards, and lots of plastic sheeting.  it smells like cat piss when you walk by, and i can’t begin to imagine what it smells like INSIDE.

plus there’s this issue:

where fat, juicy groundhogs crawl up into the guys attic and run around.  i saw two of them piling in there one day, but didn’t have my camera on me.  so yeah…time to start cleaning house before i have zoo critters moving in!!

nervous breakdown #673

well dang.  gave myself a minor breakdown today.

i sometimes wonder why i put up weird pictures on here, because i might like it, but really – not everyone has the same taste.  and i am well aware that i am on the “outer limits” of the norm, not only for my ‘condition’ but also for my taste, style, aesthetic…and humor.  oh, and outlook.  but i put up pictures none the less.  and Accidental Happiness # something or other- i’m glad i have!  i’ve started saving some of my pics on a new jump drive, cause i’m trying to get them organized.  there are some shots i deem “cooler” than others, and want to make prints of, to maybe sell at local shops in my area.  and FUCK IT if my brand new drive full of pictures didn’t say “corrupted” today when i slid it into it’s little home.  WTF???   i completely freaked out, then did the melting down thing, then cried.  lots of hours of work, and lots of anticipation fucked all over the globe.  but i did a little research and found that i’d squirreled away many of the pictures i wanted; on other drives, here, and on my facebook account.  (thank you facebook!)   i suppose now i should make hard copies as well as do the whole shutterfly and/or flickr thing, which i just keep putting off.

some pix i can’t find.  and i guess either i don’t need them, or they don’t want to be found, or i need to go make new ones.  but what a panic!  and i’m glad to have found the majority in other little places.  so, accidental happiness: 80% of pix recovered.  word to the wise: don’t skimp on jump drives and get the cheap ass ones on sale for 3.99 in a big barrel/bin at whatever office supply store is unloading them.  major suckage.

math problems

ok, i’m not that great at math, but i’m pretty sure this abacus isn’t adding up to 528

children’s song goes PG-13

you know that old song “If you’re happy and you know it clap your hands.  If you’re happy and you know it clap your hands.  If you’re happy and you know it, then you’re face will really show it…lalalalalala”

i’m trying to think what that song would sound like if you’re an old, tired, grumpy, jaded person who doesn’t have the energy to clap or smile, and is really looking forward to something more like falling down in a dead drunk sleep and drooling all over the pillow while simultaneously avoiding alcohol poisoning by a hair. 

haven’t quite come up with it yet, but i’ll let you know.

 

heritage

people like to celebrate their heritage in different ways.  some people might go back through their lineage, find their family’s coat of arms and display it in the house.  others might trace their ancestry back to their country of origin, and take a trip with their family to find any relatives, or roam over the stomping grounds of a great-great-great lost uncle, grandparent or ex-communicated patch of cousins. 

me, i like to do things differently.  i have my own ways.

for instance, a few years ago i discovered that i was mostly Czechoslovakian (if a pretty-much-mostly-mutt can be “most” of something).  it appears my way of celebrating this heritage is by growing lots of hair where i don’t want it.  wonky eyebrows that refuse to participate in beauty class, goofball stray hairs that seem to think i live in the arctic and need to protect one hair follicle on my cheek, or two follicles on my chin. (wtf?)  and of course my legs think i need a built in pair of boots to keep me warm at all times.  thanks, Czecks!

i seem to celebrate my Native American heritage by being poor and having a tendency to enjoy alcohol and pills too much.

i think we are part Irish, though i might be making that up, but just in case, i do love a good potato, so i have that duly covered.  and in case there is any Romanian in me i do tarot readings, so i’m full of the celebration there as well.

all in all, i feel i’m representing my people groups as best i can. 

GO HERITAGE!

 

Ahhhhh! Michigan…

Three weeks ago I was enjoying the gorgeous weather.  Two days after that I had to get my space heater out.  Four days later I had all the windows open and the fans on.  Five days ago all my friends had their heaters turned on, and I was bundled in a fleece blanket.  Today I went for a walk outside in a tank top.

Michigan may be full of gun-toting militiaists, camo-wearing hunters and chronically low employment rates, but at least the weather is interesting.

PING*PONG

It seems recently someone may have PINGED me on here.

I’m sorry, PINGER… at the time I had no idea what PING-ing was.  (i mean i’d heard of it, but didn’t understand it.  i’m still sort of living in a cave as far as technology goes)

so if I’ve accidentally deleted your PING, I AM REALLY SORRY!  😦