PEACE OUT BITCHES

Might I add that I SEND HOLY THANKS TO THE GOD OF VACATION REQUESTS because I'm gettin out of town on a southbound train. Countdown: One hour and 7 minutes until interstate velocity is reached!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THREE WHOLE DAYS OF SITTING ON MY MOTHERS COUCH, DOING NOTHING BUT DISCUSSING WHATEVER HOME DECORATING/IMPROVEMENT/DESTRUCTION SHOW HAPPENS TO BE ON THE LEARNING CHANNEL.

O BLESS-ED BE THE VACATION REQUEST GODS!! BLESS-ED!!!

Bouncy.

I would like to voice a complaint.

Why is it that if my bra size is of a CERTAIN SIZE I am confined to plain jane bras?

What if I want to wear pretty bras?

I have pretty underoos.

So why not bras?

And before you think I'm that girl, complaining "Oh, my boobs, they are just SO BIG, I can't stand it! Ooooo!" <--said with sorority girl voice I'M VOICING A VALID COMPLAINT HERE, NOT DRAWING ATTENTION TO MY BRA SIZE, THANK YOU.

The pretty bras, they go up to size 36D, sometimes 38D if you're really lucky. There's even a 36DD for those women who either a) pad their bras b) have leetle waists and naturally giant bazoombas or d) have gotten their shit surgically enhanced.

BUT GOD FORBID THAT I GET TO WEAR A NICE, PRETTY, LACY BRA. NO. I'M STUCK WITH THE ONES THAT ASSUME THAT BECAUSE YOU'VE GOT JUGS, YOU'D LIKE TO BE COVERED UP TO YOUR COLLAR BONE IN BRA-AGE.

And now the new plain-fucking-jane bra I bought makes my boobs go in opposite directions. LIFT AND SEPERATE, PEOPLE. LIFT AND SEPERATE. Girls with tits don't need that shit squashed down and pointed sideways. UP AND OUT.

Ugh.

Hmmmm. Interesting. You answer a few questions and PRESTO the computer knows all about you.

Actually though, all of those are true. But it would also be true if you said "You love animals and would stop for an abandoned dog" or "Your sometimes push others away."

Crazy computer.

WhatchyoutalkinboutWillis?

The Keys to Your Heart

You are attracted to those who are unbridled, untrammeled, and free.

In love, you feel the most alive when your lover is creative and never lets you feel bored.

You'd like to your lover to think you are stylish and alluring.

You would be forced to break up with someone who was ruthless, cold-blooded, and sarcastic.

Your ideal relationship is open. Both of you can talk about everything... no secrets.

Your risk of cheating is zero. You care about society and morality. You would never break a commitment.

You think of marriage as something that will confine you. You are afraid of marriage.

In this moment, you think of love as something you thirst for. You'll do anything for love, but you won't fall for it easily.

What Are The Keys To Your Heart?

A Bottle of Water

Ok. I feel like a hypocrite.

Not really in the sense you're thinking, though.

I feel like I LOOK like a hyocrite to someone.

And me no likey that feeling.

I realized after I walked away (and analyzed the converstation, as I do with every conversation with every person in the known world I've ever had a conversation with, possibly taking up millions of neurons of brain space with my ridiculous analyzing of words, spellings of words (even when spoken), body language, current attire, etc) that the few things this cat knew about me would seem totally incongruous with the fact that I TAKE CARE OF BABIES IN A NURSERY, IN A CHURCH. Babies brought into said nursery with the sole purpose of the parents having a quiet moment to absorb The Word of God through the Holy Mouth of The Preacher-Man in the Beautiful and Sancitified Sanctuary.

I guess what I want to say (and what I did not say before, in conversation, distracted by sleep deprivation as I was) is that I don't think it's wrong, or even necessarily bad, for these children to be brought up in the church. Afterall, I was brought up in the church. My one hope is that they have tolerant and understanding parents. Or that maybe they run into that kind of adult at some point. A teacher. Or a nursery worker. Someone, at somepoint, who lets them know it's okay to be whatever you want. That loving someone of another religion doesn't make you bad and that changing your viewpoints on religion and faith and the creeds and morals you carry with you daily is healthy, normal and it makes you stronger, more adaptable. AND MORE IMPORTANTLY that if they decide to hold to their current faith, the one their parents obviously hold so dear, THAT THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT. As long as they can love people without condemnation, it's okay. That's all I ask.
Of course, the fact that they pay me is nice as well.

But I wouldn't be doing it if I laughed at these people behind their backs, thinking I had found the better path, the more righteous way, etc. I'm grateful and appreciative that these parents have something to believe in, that these kids have parents who so obviously make them a priority in their lives and that the strength of their faith gives them comfort. Just because my faith is slightly different doesn't make theirs any more or less right-- or mine more or less wrong.

So there. The internet world cares not, I know. And Conversation Person from this morning will not read this. And I would feel like a douche bag if I just walked up out of nowhere and laid out my thought process. So instead, I lay it out here. Which makes me feel slightly better. Which is what this is about anyway. My self absorbtion broadcast loudly for all the world to read.

Really? That's nice. Now BLOW ME.

So.
Please don't whine to me over the phone that my company doesn't let you make any money. If you knew how to do your job right, you could make money. But don't whine to me about it BECAUSE IT'S NOT POSSIBLE FOR ME TO GIVE LESS OF A SHIT.

Please don't whine to me about how hard it is to do data-entry all day. I'm sure it must be hard having that whiny-assed voice that grates on my VERY LAST NERVE and driving your brand new car with DVD AND NAV SYSTEMS that you bought on your DATA ENTRY PAYCHECK. Please, keep talking, BECAUSE I MAY STAB YOU IN THE EYE.

And you, the one that chats on the phone all day, GET OFF THE FUCKING PHONE SO THE REST OF US DON'T HAVE TO TAKE UP YOUR SLACK. Mouth breathing lazy-ass skank.
And OHMIGOD she's on the phone AGAIN. He DOESN'T LIKE YOU. GIVE IT UP.

Also, I hate peanut butter. I hate peanut butter in ANY form. This includes peanut butter cookies. Stop buying peanut butter cookies as a motivator for me, and the rest of my coworkers, to do our jobs. BUY BROWNIES. I'll blow you for brownies.

My hand, it is shaking. I'm that tired. I need a day off. A whole day where I don't have to get up and wash clothes, clean the bathroom, clean the kitchen, sweep the house, scoop cat litter, return things to Target, etc, etc. A day where these things have already been taken care of and I can relax on my lawn chair on my back porch and watch my neighbors cats watching the squirrel watching the cats while it eats the cat's food.

Also, the fact that I went "camping" last weekend for The Fouth does not mean I had days off. I was hot, sweaty and I've still got a crick in my neck from sleeping on the ground.

GRRRR goes the postman

So. Feeling quite proud of myself.

I installed my newly received Airport card last night ALL BY MYSELF.

Sure. You're thinking "Well, damn. I thought all you had to do was slide it in."

NO. That is not how it works AT ALL.

It took 45 minutes of reading weird translated instructions-- instructions designed to be used with an iMac -- NOT an iBook -- for me to figure out what needed to happen.

So after what appeared to be the correct installation, I decided I would try out my new wireless internet capabilities at my friendly neighborhood Coffee Beanery.

SO HERE I SIT. BEAMING MOLECULES OF FREE INTERNET INTO MY MAC.

I'm especially excited. And though I've only got 6 minutes left on my lunch break (I spent the first 40 minutes surfing through sites I have not been able to, er, appreciate fully while at work. NO, I'M NOT TALKING ABOUT PORN. gutter minds. Just possibly some blogs that would edge onto the "NO ZONE" at work.)

So. Here's what I've decided (because poor people have got to be creative):

I will continue bringing my lunch to work everyday but drive one block over to the Coffee Beanery, where I shall sit in my car and BEAM MOLECULES OF FREE INTERNET INTO MY MAC.

Yes, you are correct. I'm avoiding purchasing a $1.67 coffee every day on my lunch break by sitting super-shadily in the parking lot BEAMING MOLECULES OF FREE INTERNET INTO MY MAC.

I am GENIUS.