Friday, June 30, 2006

FO Notice:PS Seastorm Socks...

I won't lie, they're ALMOST done. They need that grafted toe thing, but that takes like, seconds...well, seconds if you're on Pluto, but I'm considering them just "good 'nuff for gov'ment work." I'm gonna post about them tomorrow, but as tomorrow is July I at least wanted to put a "foot in the door" about them today...did anyone but me wake up this morning going it's July tomorrow...WHAT?!?

Yes, July. As LONG (5 "paycheck weeks" this year) as June was, it's over today.

Weird, eh?

As this is a "pre-caffeine" posting I'll go now before I incriminate myself in any way/shape/form.

I did have a "venting" post to deliver, but it is not a time-sensitive issue, so it can wait.

Wednesday, June 28, 2006

Sprint Blogging: When Did I Start Needing Face Cream?

Hi.

Yes, that is the title I chose. It kinda just popped into my head as I looked down at my desk. Face cream. Yes. It seems eons ago I used to watch my mom, aunts, cousins slather that stuff on their faces. I would touch my own and wonder how they could deal with the grease.

Yes.

Grease.

How old must I have been? About 9 I'm guessing. That's when I really remember Mexico and my dad's little town and my cousins...it was post-bath time and they were smearing that stuff all over their arms and legs and, faces. I couldn't stand it. I'd been told to use cream on my arms and legs as the town's water was either well or heavy mineral and it would dry my skin out.

Somehow my face wasn't a part of that...facial skin doesn't feel like hand skin. Doesn't feel like leg skin...so why would you use the same "nivea" or "ponds" or "wonder" on it...do you guys remember Wonder cream? I think I saw some at Target the last time I was there. I almost bought it. Almost...except, yeah, all those creams remind me of the, ahem, (my mom would throttle me if she heard me saying this, but as I'm writing maybe it's different,) little old lady smell that emanates from my ahhhh, "older" family members. You know?

So this morning? I put on some face cream. I've been stuck in air conditioning hell for the last two days. You know what AC does to my face? Hoooo boy, it dries it out. BIG TIME. I have scales! My face is FLAKING OFF....or well, that's what I feel when I touch it. So I pulled out the ol' face cream. Neutrogena Healthy Defense...it's what I use when I got, like, OUT to play. My beautiful friends (and they are, you really should look at their pics) Richard and Steve gifted me "Comfort Zone" last year for my birthday? And it's got some SPF in it, only it's an exfoliating cream. It worked WONDERS for the freckles that would not go away anymore. The freckles? GONE. But if I use it too often it makes my face go away too :). I kinda need it to work and stuff, so out comes the Neutrogena. Okay, gonna be late for work if I don't get out NOW.

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

Spreading the meme around...

From Felt Like Knitting:
"Take a look around you. Other than your computer, peripherals, a desk/table, and chair--- what are the five things nearest to you right now?"

1. cell phone
2. water bottle
3. some sock knitting (duh!)
4. pens
5. one lonely red vans shoelace

Lots more, but those are the first five I laid eyes upon.

Saturday, June 24, 2006

Everybody's Workin' for the Weekend...

Am I dating myself again?

Ah well.

Today is my first semi-lazy weekend day in a LOOOOONNNNNG time, and I spent the first bit driving much too fast to get Charles and Jenny to the airport in time to make their car rental appointment. From Sea-Tac they'll be driving to Olympia as Charles' "kid" sister (who is 30 people) is gettin' hitched, today.

It's amazing to what lengths we'll go to for family. I was in Baja CA on a sailboat when I got the call that my older brother's wedding was on. I did make it...it involved some scary little Mexican prop planes, but I got there.

If I ever get married again? Vegas, baby, Vegas. Or better yet, they have these "justice of the peace" dealies at city hall? Yeah, cuz Vegas might involve a chapel and I have this intense fear of lightning striking whenever I set foot in churches. I think it's a product of being my father's daughter. When my age and asked if he was going to church? "No, mija, me hace daƱo." ("No, dear, it's bad for my health.") Is it a wonder, really, that I came out the way I have?

Right, just me and the poor sucker...I mean dearly beloved, and a witness, what more do you need, really? Oh, and cake. Preferably Pastel de Tres Leches, but an ice-cream pie would do in a pinch. Such a romantic I've become, eh?

Okay, there are loads of laundry screaming at me, as well as a little sock that MUST get finished before the end of the month. This "work" thing? Man, it gets in the way of livin' but like all get-out. What a LAZY day I'm havin'. (Can you just see the sarcasm dripping off that one?)

Thursday, June 22, 2006

5 Minute Post: Hangin' w/Old Friends

More like four...it takes FOR-EV-ER for anything to load when you have a time limit, I swear.

Hanging out with people, FRIENDS, really that "knew you when" is nice. It's like being able to pull on your battered sweat pants, favorite sweater, and fluffy bunny slippers (if you so have...sadly, mine died in gradeschool) and sit and watch the snow fall in front of a roaring fire-comfy.

When you get to the "10-year" mark, there's no need to hash out what you've been doing every minute of the day since the last time you saw someone. Unless, you know, it involves marriage, kids, divorce, whatever, and then it's a 30 minute summary more than anything. Once you hit the 14-yr mark, you can sit in silence and digest your meal and wine without the need for any talking. There were moments of this, cuz, we all like sitting quietly and digesting...but there wasn't the uncomfortable silence of "new" friendships, you know? I guess that's the sign of a good friendship (for me at any rate), how soon can you slip into comfy silence? Decades? Years? Months? Days? Hours?

Anyhow, it's 5 minutes and I gotta go to work.

Sprint blogging...what a concept :)

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

Random Picture Wednesday: The Grand Canyon

No, I don't mean my butt-crack...but Andy took a picture of my backside facing the camera anyway.

I might mean a big gulf though. Like the one separating this post from my last...where exactly did all that time go? I must have misplaced it. I hope to find it soon cuz work with no play does indeed make Jack a dull boy. And I really don't feel like running around the house with an axe on a snowy evening...I'm sure Andy wouldn't appreciate it much either.

Can you tell sleep has been a minimum here? :)

My favorite part about this picture, aside from the fact that HEL-LOOOOOOO, it's the GRAND CANYON, is the bit of the picture, um, between my legs. (it just doesn't sound right...how many porn hits will I get today..."butt-crack" AND "between my legs" FUN times :). Where was I?) So I don't remember not standing on anything when the picture was taken. What a great camera affect.

My least favorite part, aside from my being there at all (don't like the camera...bad), is the fact that the shot is soooooooo poor when you know how much of the bigger picture has been "cut off." Were I not the "focal" point of the shot, it'd be worse, I know, I remember my Photo I lessons. I just, I dunno...pictures change the memory of the experience at times like this, almost like it's changing the reality. Am I making sense? (If I'm not, please ignore, I think I did mention the lack of sleep...)

Anyhow, my friends Charles and Jenny are flying into SeaTac airport today. I've known Chuckles since I was but a freshling at UCSC...I feel old...must go now.

More soon. Promise.

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Random Picture Wednesday...The Kind With Teeth

At the Tactless household we have this little way of wishing for things...it goes something like this:

You say, "I want a colander; the kind with feet." And I start singing a They Might Be Giants-esque (or it might be them, hard to tell) song which goes, "He wants a shoe horn; the kind with teeth." Cuz that's what your request pops into my head. I never said I was normal.

And so I want a cam-ra; the kind that work. So that I too can play with all the buttons and features (of which in real life we'll only ever use about .5% of), and come up with works of art such as this:
Where Andy has turned the shutter speed to "SLOTH" and contorts his face into crazy David Lynchian poses as the picture is taken...ON PURPOSE. Instead of the sad blurry things I take cuz my camera only takes pictures of sad blurry things...like me pouting.

Okay, whine-off.

This is all you get on a Wednesday where I didn't actually feel as if I'd woken up completely until about noon. Sad state of affairs this "work" thing. Must find some new way to make money. I hear printers are rather good these days...

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

I Need to Become a Vampire...

Or at least keep their working hours...

It's a royal pain in the buttocks to try to take pictures at dawn, dusk, or gods forbid DARK with my rinky-dink-fisher-price camera. Which, I should add, tried to commit suicide this evening by jumping off my desk and onto the surge protector on the floor. I don't know if it damaged itself, I mean, well, it turns on, it takes pictures. Is the quality affected? HOW CAN IT GET ANY WORSE?

Come August, if this gig of mine does more than just pay the rent, I'm gonna have to invest in something from this century.

So what did I want to take pictures of? YARN of course! I "participated" in the DeStash for your Cash page by buying yarn off of someone and now wanted to share that it's here, and it's electric blue and green and purple and raspberry, and yes, it's sock yarn. Addicted? Meybbee...

Were you all thinking good thoughts toward me or something? Cuz last night I slept WELL. I really needed that and thank the lot of you whether or not you participated in helping to keep the insanity at bay. Tonight I have the house to myself, as Andy and Tim are roughing it somewhere West of here. Men need go out into wilderness; do manly things; sleep on ground; tell dirty jokes and naughty stories...or something. Really? I'm kinda jealous. I get to work instead...woo hoo.

Monday, June 12, 2006

Sunday....

Andy reminded me several times on Sunday that it was no longer KIP day.

I guess I became overenthusiastic about the knitting...so I put it away before we took our seats...cuz Sunday? I spent way too much money and indulged in something I've wanted to do for YEARS...I went to the circus for the second time in my life.

Not just any circus though, Cirque du Soleil was playing Varekai in "Seattle" (Redmond actually) so I jumped at the chance to give them lots of my money :).

If you EVER get the chance to go to a show? Any show? Go. This show was supposedly about what happens to Icarus when he falls out of the sky. Surprise! Not into the oceans bottomless depths, but onto a magical place, with creatures of intense color and amazing flexibility. I'll be losing readers as I describe what I thought of the storyline, but you really don't go to Cirque du Soleil for the plot. Seriously, the way the story was told? Kinda like the plot of a porn movie, just enough of a "story" to get to the "action," which in this case is the juggling, gymnastics, and death-defying jumps, acrobatics, twirls and oh-my-god-can-her-neck-really-do-that moments as opposed to well, what porn is usually filled with, which is what you watch porn for, also certainly not for the plot!

Richard, over at Mondo Rick-0 expounded so much about his trip to Cirque du Soleil in SF that I just had to see what the fuss was about. I figured I'd go "some day." Then, last month? Tim, Andy, and I went on a trip out to...oh I can't remember, they were looking for houses...and I saw the circus tents on SR-520...Serendipity? Or something. The SF show was all about clowns or something. I think that would have made for less wishy-washing around with trying to have a "plot" to tie the acrobatics together, but meh (with the shrugging of the shoulders), whateva', it worked. I am so ready to go VIP next year just so I can have the performers flying RIGHT OVER MY HEAD! It's rather close quarters in that main tent!

Oh, I did knit during intermission though...I had to do something to calm down, there were a few moments when my hands were sweating FOR the performers, you know?

Oh, but if I do get to go next time? Definitely packing a frozen water bottle. DO NOT BELIEVE THEM when it says that the main tent has controlled air. Pack enough people in a small space and there is no such thing. IT WAS HOT. It was one of those last minute thoughts of mine to wear shorts, had I not I might have passed out. Maybe the VIP section has more airflow? I hope so, I think one of those little "personal fans" might be kinda distracting, you know?

I thought this post might turn into my going off on the size of the little seats vs the size of some of the patrons, but I've decided to let that go. So what if my neighbor was trying to share half my seat. I gave up the idea of "personal space" when I lived on a 32' sailboat for 5 years. Anyway, my energy is just about running on empty (kinda like my gastank :)). Last night was a bad one for peaceful sleeping and it's far too late for me to still be up, so I'm off to be unconscious. Peace out! Yo!

Flashing the Sticks...

Saturday:
Mom's Teriyaki: (lunch) I knit a row or two waiting for the grub! A table of college-aged kids sat kitty corner from us and the young lady facing us kept looking at me as she spoke to her friends. Not a malicious look, mind.

Sears: Going down the escalator, I especially liked the look I got from the girl going UP.

Sky Nursery: Didn't. Had my hands full with African Violets (PURPLE!) and whatever little plant Andy chose whose name I've forgotten. But I did knit to and from there.

Wells Fargo: Sorry, again, hands full.

THE MALL: After all that trekking about Andy wanted a Dairy Queen Malted. The "closest" happened to be the Northgate Mall. So off we went. (I knit in the car on the way there as well as) in the elevator to get from the parking area to the food court. After that there was a blizzard in my hands and we don't mix sticky stuff with yarn. Besides, my ice cream would melt and vanilla & oreo cookie soup sounds disgusting.

Then as we sat watching Battle Star Galactica Season 1 disc 4, yeah, more knitting.

All this "stolen" knitting time was rather productive, I've done about 1/2 the leg of the 2nd "Seastorm Spectrum Socks." Not to mention spreading out the KIP thing all over Seattle instead of just the park :).

Saturday, June 10, 2006

Sugar Baby...

Another elementary school memory...

My second (or fourth maybe?) grade teacher used to call the kids who didn't come to school when it rained (this was LA, it doesn't rain there often, people DIE when drops of water fall out of the sky!) Sugar Babies.

I laughed along with the rest of the class but honestly had NO IDEA why the woman was calling these kids candy. I think it was 20 years later when I finally figured out what she was trying to say. It was one of those rare times when, as an adult, there was television around me on a regular basis. A Hawaiian comic was announcing some show or another as he sat on some rocks in the middle of a running spring. As the commercial "ends" he shouts out, "Now gemme outta here, honey, sugga melts!"

Before this commercial enlightened me, the "Sugar Baby" name tag made me come up with two possible definitions (cuz I was certainly not going to show my ignorance and ask! This was the 80s, it was not cool to ask questions about common idioms cuz it meant you might not know the language, and if you didn't know the language you were a second-language-learner/off the boat/wetback that NO ONE would talk to. Nice, huh? Friendly people at my East LA school, lemme tell ya'.) So right, I was thinking maybe the candy melts in water or something? Something to do with water, of course.

As the years passed and I heard the same phrase from others I thought about Sugar Daddies, the non-candy variety, and how they were connected to the babies...the same link above explains the real history of "Sugar Babies:"
Sugar Babies were young women on whom middle-aged
"Sugar Daddies" spent bundles of money.
Hmmm, I doubt my teachers were accusing these children of being spoilt by middle-aged men. EEEUUUUUUWWW, if they were. Possibly it's the case of using the wrong phrase to simply state that these kids were so spoiled, or maybe delicate? That they just couldn't go out in the rain and make it to school.

So it's June 10th, KIP day, and I'm at home...cuz sugar does melt people...and it doesn't look all that pretty out to go sit on damp grass and meet and knit with others. Sorry.

Instead I'm going to go to Home Depot, maybe a Nursery and possibly Sears with Andy and knit in public in those places, indoors, not in the rain. Cuz I feel stuffed up and tired as is. Now, in my 30s I can add the third reason those kids didn't go to school in the rain: THEY'D GET SICK AND DIE. Cuz remember rainy days in elementary school? Especially if you had to walk home? Puddles to be jumped into? Drops finding their way down your collar or down your back? Wet socks, drenched shoes? What fun! But the next day? Snivelly noses and temperatures. AND THE SAME PARENTS THAT SENT US TO SCHOOL IN THE RAIN SENT US TO SCHOOL SICK! Or so that was my experience :).

Happy Knit in Public Day! Knit a stitch or two somewhere public-like, it's quite fun :).

Thursday, June 08, 2006

So Tired....

Must blog before I collapse for the evening.

Saw X-Men.

Tell me, did anyone else notice that it was BROAD DAYLIGHT when Magneto and groupies began their trek across the bay but turned PITCH BLACK as soon as they landed? Tim's theory is that they ran out of film and by the time they procured more, well, duh, the day was over, "but keep shooting! We're on a budget!"

I suppose that's also the reason all those cars with WORKING HEADLIGHTS(?) are around on the bridge to get doused with the falling water? Where exactly was Magneto getting the ammunition if there were SO MANY CARS still in one piece? And they were scattered all over the bridge...ummm, didn't he clear a path earlier? I'm sure the cars just suffered from some settling or something, I dunno. Details, details...who pays attention to those besides anal-retentive OCDers LIKE ME.

But even I missed Fraiser. When I mentioned (thanks to the credits cuz I read nothing about the cast of characters and was shocked) that Kelsey Grammer was Beast, again Tim shot out, "Oh yeah, I thought that hand looked familiar." I mean, really, I had NO CLUE. Neither did Tim or Andy. There was no "Frasier" voice, he nailed the one Beast used in the cartoon of my youth, or so I felt.

I love the X-Men, really I do, but I do hope this is where this "series" ends. Let it be a Trilogy and leave it at that. I'm trying not to give away the ending for those of you who haven't seen it yet, so I'll stop there.

My eyelids grow heavy and my site grows dim...

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

Random Picture Wednesday: Man, I Need Vans...

So Andy and I went to THE MALL on Sunday. I needed to "gear up" for Dad's day and maybe, if they were on sale and had my size...more to the point: and had my size on sale, a new pair of Vans would be mine.
Yey! New Vans (on my feet being broken in) meeting my old reliables...can you see how "chewed" up the inside heel area of my oldies are. No, I NEVER tie the laces, I'm a big geek that way, yeah I get rid of the original white laces faster than you can say Jack Robinson, cuz again, I'm a big geek that way too.

Yes, I wear vans. I've worn VansTM since I convinced my mom that the brand name shoes were INFINITELY more comfortable than the Payless version. What was I, 8? 9? I'm not lying here, I am a Payless girl too. I got MARRIED wearing $4 Payless shoes. I'm more than happy to fork over a few bucks IF the shoe fits. Andy can attest to my trying for the economical shoe source, we have gone on many shoe-finding expeditions, 99% failures, lemme tell ya; $4 or $400, it takes a special shoe to be my friend. Payless sneakers were never my friends.

My feet are as wide as they are long. They didn't have "wide width" back when I was a kid. Sometimes I wonder how people like me turn up. We must be rare cuz NOTHING EVER FITS. If it did? Well, then the rest of the world would wear my size and I wouldn't have to battle to find a bra that fits or socks that didn't bind. Details, details.

Vans fit. Before last Summer I'd have said ALL Vans fit ME. Such is no longer the case. For some reason known only to the powers that be, they've been making vans NARROWER. Either that or maybe my feet are getting wider. Could happen I suppose. Except I just spent WAY TOO MUCH MONEY on work and interview shoes and they were not double-extra-wide or anything. in fact they are a smaller size that I thought I was. So maybe the powers are trying to save a buck by using less material in the width department. Kinda like the candy bars they sell today, don't they seem much smaller than what we used to buy when we were in high school? Whatever.

If Vans keep being on sale in my size I will probably keep buying them until I'm well past my mom's current age, if I live that long. And that was the vision that popped into my head as Andy and I walked out of the Vans store at the mall. Me, 75, 80 yrs young making some kid, some whipper snapper :), go find me a mens 6.5 in the wide-toed-fat-tongued-sale-du-jour pair of the week. This is a rather vivid picture in my head because my mom, at 70+, goes into places like Foot Action/Locker/etc., with the music blasting and the young people giving her sideways glances, instead of heading for Geriatric-land or wherever older people buy their shoes, to get her sneakers. Damn right she still wears sneakers! What else would she be wearing to chase after the grandkids?

Where do older folk buy their shoes? I suppose department stores, or, ah yes, Payless.

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

"And the sign said long-haired-freaky-people, need not apply..."

My little brother is "graduating" from middle school this weekend...or is it Friday? Suffice to say, I'm gonna save up for the plane fare for his high school graduation...I'm just, yeah, struck, HARD, whenever I realize he's FOURTEEN years old.

I'm trying to see him as a teenager, and not the 3-month old I remember crawling all around the house with his lopsided grin that kinda matched his lopsided head. Or the, tee hee, toddler that Karin made cry when I left them alone for like, a minute? Or the 3-year old who came barreling down the concourse when my parents came to watch me fence in San Louis Obispo. That's a funny memory...

It was a LOOOOOOOONG event, 2 days worth of fencing. Days before I'd cut my waist-length hair to just below my ears. Basically just long enough so I could pull it back into a stubby tail so I wouldn't overheat in the fencing mask. IT WAS HOT. I went outside to get some fresh air and see if maybe my parents were waiting around there...they were about 3 hours late by then. My family is connected by many things, our lack of 20/20 vision is a biggie. I saw clumps of people here and there but no one that looked like my parents.

All of a sudden, from a clump of 4 breaks away a tiny little person, screaming, "NENA! NENA! NENA!" All the way. Counterpoint to his cries was my mother screaming, "Mijo! VENTE AQUI! MIJO! NO CORRAS! MIJO!!!" (Cuz, yeah, he recognized me METERS before all of them with his young healthy eyes :).)

The next thing I know, IMPACT, and a tiny little guy is in my arms looking at me with his head tilted first one way, then the other. Then he solemnly took both his hands and put them on my hair, whose little nub I'd taken out for more air, and ran his fingers through. The shock on his face was rather apparent. I wish I had a picture... But he, of everyone in my family, seemed the worst struck by the loss of my hair.

Now? Ri-i-ight, who cares about some old lady who says she's his sister and lives 1200 miles away? No, not that bad, he's actually a sweet kid. TEMPER problems, but umm, yeah, that would be most teenagers.

Today's title was definitely brought to you by him...he asked for music and I'm providing, but this time I'm trying to gather stuff he asked for. Mostly metal and hard rock, but some of the requests come from the bowels of my own music collection and that's just freaky...(people, need not apply---sorry, it's been in my head for a couple days now...).

This is not the same pudgy little kid I could scoop up and carry around and share my chee-toes with (puffs, yummy).

Urgh...I began this last night and now I gotta go to work...time is not on my side right now...

Saturday, June 03, 2006

Naps are for Woosies...

Or
Why I write incomprehensible Blog Entries...

My friend Karin live journals. She sometimes does this at 3am because she gets insomnia. Wicked bad insomnia. I'm filling in the adjectives because of the way I feel about sleep. I love being unconscious. Especially if my body is just, well, READY.

I battled with that semi-insomiatic state a couple months ago, the kind where you go to bed and then it's 10PM and you know because your eyes shoot open and look at the alarm clock. So you convince yourself it really is okay, no burglar or cucuy woke you, no gunshots, no prowlers, go. to. sleep.

And you do.

Until midnight, when you shoot up into a sitting position cuz HI, YOU ARE AWAKE! And the alarm is now reading 12:01 AM and you're still trying to figure out what woke you. Is the alarm going off? Is there a digital watch you don't know about? WHAT. Until you're set and try yet again to get some shut eye.

And you do.

Then it's 2AM and you are wondering why the hell your eyes are open and staring at the clock and did I see it go from 1:59 to 2:00 or was that me dreaming?

For. days. on. end.

I even had medical advice. Chamomile tea at night. No food after 6PM. A bath. Precious sleeping pills ($15 each, that's just wrong).

I did it all until my body got over whatever was wrong with it and I was unconscious the entire night. Yey sleeping through the night!

Except...you knew this was coming.

I don't rest all that much when I sleep. When I was basking in the realm of unemployment, in the span of 24 hours I'd be unconscious about 10-12. In that time of dream-living I'd get about 6 "good" hours of sleep.

The other 6 hours were dreams I'd claw my way out of to get away...not so much nightmares as ummm, bad painful, evil dreams. No reenacting SAW II or anything, more like some evil man yelling at me and waving papers saying I was never to set foot on a sailboat again! Or my mother in bed, too weak to get up and my brother and sister-in-law yelling at her cuz she's supposed to be taking care of their children. My dad, drunker than any skunk in the tri-county area driving my little brother and I to school, weaving in and around traffic. In other words, dreams that had me waking in cold sweats, crying, screaming, too pissed off to be asleep.

For the last 19 months my sleep has been anything but restful and peaceful, but I've been lucky. For the last 15 of those months I didn't have a full-time job to keep me from going insane with lack of sleep. I fooled myself into thinking I'm all better now, or something. I'm not, I just had the time to, well, sleep more. I'd make up for the lack of good sleep with more sleep. It all evens out in the end. Someone said it doesn't. I remember reading about how you can't "make-up" for no sleep or too-little sleep or whatever. LIES. Or maybe I should say, I CAN. If I can grab those extra hours. That's the new word to emphasize, IF.

IF I'm at my job site 9 hours a day, and IF I am commuting .5 hours in the morning and 1 hour in the evening, and IF I've actually been unconscious for 6 hours, theoretically I should be able to slip in some extra unconscious time. I haven't figured out how to yet.

Thursday I came home and dropped dead. The next thing I knew it was midnight and I was WIDE awake. Not a good sign. My body needed the sleep so badly I had no choice. I can't do that. I spent Friday on more caffeine than I am comfortable having in my system. Tea, hot chocolate, more tea, more chocolate...and one more cup for the afternoon. Nothing like a receptionist on stimulants!

I need to go lie down. I'm supposed to do something this evening and I'm almost dreading it as I'm just SOOOOOOOOOO tired. As I lay down for a nap...the phone rang. I swear, they're watching, monitoring breath and heart-rates. Oh OH! This one is slowin' down, time to di-al!

Right, I did say I was incomprehensible.

By the way:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY SPENCER!