Mylusa's pointed out some concerns about Facebook privacy and things, so I just checked it out - I was able to create a Facebook account with a name other than my real one (although it does seem to have some sort of algorithm that won't approve names that seem fake - like "Verruca Pirate", for example) - and one of the e-mail addresses I maintain for spam and the like. That's all I needed. So join the 90s with the rest of us and get an account! Woo!
The more important news is that we have a new addition to our family.
We were coming off a 3-hour trip from Connecticut in pouring rain this past Sunday and were only 10 minutes away from home when the guy at the light in front of us got out of his car and knocked on the window of the car in the next lane. And we got all attitudinal because SERIOUSLY, are you going to do this to us? We're ten minutes away! We're tired! We just want to go home! And then the guy crawled under the car in the next lane and fished this sopping wet kitten out from under the wheel. And we said HOLY SHIT and then we took her to Petco, where we spent an hour with the groomer who pulled off the ticks and bathed her and dried her and clipped her nails and cleaned her ears and didn't charge us for a thing.
She's around six weeks old now. We named her Bella. And now we're the house with a dog and FIVE CATS. I try not to think too hard about that.
I was in the mood to tweak Sal (because I love her - you only tweak the ones you love, you know), so I sent out an e-mail on Thursday to the three groups we work with the most. I told them that Sal hates the color pink. She hates it. Haaaaaaates it. Then I asked them to all wear pink on Monday, if possible, and I offered to bribe them with cookies.
Ten minutes later the admin showed up with a ream of pink paper she'd stolen from the print center. So I papered one wall of Sal's cube with it. Then she brought three different sizes of post-it notes, all in pink. So I transcribed all of Sal's notes to herself to those and took her original ones away. Then I copied all of her printouts onto pink paper. Then one of the CDAS guys showed up with a pink copy of the one-page calendar our client prints out every year on different colored papers - Sal had a yellow one, but not any more.
Then I baked nine dozen cookies and waited for Monday.
It was awesome.
~Sal
This year I decided that my Christmas/birthday gift would be a piano. I took lessons for ten years before I quit in high school and lately I've been feeling like I'd like to take it up again. So today I bullied Don into driving me to a piano shoppe and I left one piano richer (or poorer, depending on whether you're talking about my house or my bank account.) Woo hoo!
This is the one I got:
http://www.prambergerpianoco.com/product
Plus it turned out that they're able to deliver it TOMORROW. OMG I'M GOING TO HAVE A PIANO TOMORROW!
I hope everyone's Christmas was great!
the Idiot Savant
VULGAR | SPONTANEOUS | LIGHT
You like things silly, immediate, and, above all, outrageous. Ixne on the subtle word play, more testicles on fire, please. People like you are the most likely to RECEIVE internet forwards--and also the most likely to save them in a special folder entitled 'HOLY SHIT'.
Because it's so easily appreciated, and often wacky and physical, your sense of humor never ceases to amuse your friends. Most realize that there's a sly intelligence and a knowing wink to your tastes. Your sense of humor could be called 'anti-pretentious'--but paradoxically enough, that indicates you're smarter than most.
PEOPLE LIKE YOU: Johnny Knoxville - Jimmy Kimmel
http://www.okcupid.com/tests/the-3-varia
Teachers in need of supplies or equipment for the kids they teach submit their needs directly to Donors Choose. Donors Choose screens the proposal, makes sure everything's kosher, then posts it to their website. Donors can select which projects they'd like to fund and donate directly to those projects. Once a project is funded, Donors Choose purchases the equipment and supplies and sends those to the teacher and her/his kids.
You can find projects that can be finished off for less than $50. You can find projects that are local to your town, state, whatever. You can find projects based on subject matter, poverty level, or grade level.
And the best part is that at some point after you've donated and the project you've supported becomes a reality, you get a package of thank you letters and photos from the kids you've helped.
I'm addicted to this site. I think it's a crime that we pay teachers as poorly as we do and yet there are so many teachers spending their own money for supplies and activities for their kids. I love being able to directly support children in my own area. It's amazing to see the innovative and interesting projects that these teachers come up with, and it's heartbreaking to see the basic needs that go unmet for some students.
If you have an extra five or ten bucks, please go check it out.
It's most apparent when I'm driving. I've actually started talking to myself:
"You've got to be kidding me."
"What the - move! MOVE!"
"Oh hell no you didn't."
"Holy fuck." (This gets the most airplay in my car - it's such a handy, all-purpose phrase.)
The only way I can think to describe how I feel when I'm driving is "thwarted" - I want to do something (namely, go fast) and people on the road will not let me do it. They cut in front of me and then slow down to thirty miles an hour. They think that going seventy in the left lane of the highway is sufficient. They stop when the light is still yellow. They conspire with their fellow drivers to box me into doing the speed limit.
Perhaps I am burnt out. I'm scheduled to take a couple of days off around Labor Day so I can have a five-day weekend. We'll see if that helps. If it doesn't, Paxil here I come.
In other news, the dining room floor is full of glue from the old parquet so we're spending the next two days scraping that up before we can sand, stain and varnish. The comic continues to be delayed for at least another couple of weeks.
- If I love you, you are smart and good at your job.
- Everyone has watched at least one Mel Brooks movie, at least one Zucker/Abrahams/Zucker movie, and at least one John Hughes movie.
- If you don't love Rock Band, it's only because you haven't played it yet.
- If you are Asian, you own a rice cooker. If you are an Asian girl, you know the knuckle method of cooking rice. If you like rice only if it has soy sauce or some other condiment on it, you are not Asian.
- You may try a century egg, but you won't like it.
- Everyone thinks Achewood is funny. (For some reason I continue to believe this despite continuous evidence to the contrary.)
More as I think of them. What assumptions do you make?
If I've got an outfit planned (for a special occasion or just because I'm in the mood to wear a specific top or something), then I'll wear appropriately-colored foundation garments and hose so that nothing's really jarring (e.g. no black bras under sheer white shirts, unless I'm feeling particularly classy that day), but otherwise, eh. (Also, heh, I said "hose.")
Also, I have a confession to make: if my underwear matches, it's only by accident. But years ago I knew a girl who had to match everything she wore, to the point that her underwear had to match her outfit. And Pamie, who writes a blog I've been reading for years (go look, she's really funny!), has confessed that when she selects her underwear, she does so under the assumption that she may at some point during the day be in a bank robbery where the perpetrators force everyone to strip to their undies.
This is way more information than anyone needs about my morning routine - but for you, a question: do you match your underwear to your clothes?
Verruca has been sick and working from home for the past few days. I mean, how dare she be sick on my week on site here in PA?
It's way too quiet and serious without her here.....so I end up having to listen to annoying co-worker #1's stories about how wonderful he is and how respected he is and how many important people know him and whatever for 3 days. Ugh. He gave me a migraine and I'm going home early.
Worst part is that I don;t even find pleasure in my diabolical schemes to make annoying co-worker #1 even more insecure than he already without Verruca here to enjoy it with me.
::sigh::
No worries, I am not going to break out into sonnet on how much I miss Verruca this week.
~Sal
- Location:PA for now
- Mood:
blah
Sal and her family had to have one of their cats put to sleep yesterday. Tigger was old and they knew that it was going to happen probably within the year, but I think this still took them by surprise - and it's such a hard, heartbreaking decision to make.
I'm sorry, Sal. Tigger was a good cat.
::pets for Sal and hugs for all the boys::
- Mood:
sympathetic
Statistics for the last ten days:
- Number of drinks drunk: 40
---- Margaritas: 18
---- White Russians: 5
---- Glasses of beer: 5
---- Glasses of wine: 2
---- Random juice drinks with alcohol in them: 4
---- Rums and cokes: 6
- Number of games of pool played: 10
---- Number of games of pool won: 7
- Number of cigarettes smoked: 17
- Number of drinks drunk by Salamader: 20 (est.)
---- Percentage of drinks drunk that were tequila shots: 80%
--------- Percentage of tequila shots that were drunk on Tuesday night alone: 100%
---- Number of boss's bosses that were drunk under the table on Tuesday night: 1
- Number of areas of Salamader's brain affected by excessive drinking: 3 (sense of direction, mental filters, short-term memory (although I can't remember what it was that proved that she had short-term memory loss))
- Number of times the altitude in Albuquerque (over 5000 ft) was blamed for shortness of breath, dizziness, inability to sleep, inability to wake up, inability to work out, inability to concentrate, general laziness, general need for more alcohol: 157
- Number of favorite pirates visited: 1 (Stubbygirl)
- Number of delicious meals eaten with Stubbygirl: 2
- Number of times Verruca, Salamader, and Stubbygirl pronounced or mispronounced "poutine": 78
- Number of times Verruca, Salamader, and Stubbygirl followed up pronunciation (or mispronunciation) or "poutine" with a French-sounding "hanh hanh HANH!": 77
- Number of times Verruca and Stubbygirl spontaneously and simultaneously broke out into a rendition of "Thank Heaven for Little Girls" as sung by Maurice Chevalier: 1
- Number of cats petted/played with/cooed over: 6
- Number of dirty Barbie pictures taken: 6
- Number of shiny gold skull and crossbone sneakers dropped on the sand in a spot we thought was well above water level, only to be proven horribly horribly wrong when a giant rogue wave washed up and soaked both sneakers and socks: 2
- Number of pieces of seaweed fished out of shiny gold skull and crossbone sneakers: 1
- Number of hours slept after getting home after 12 hours of travel starting at 4:30 in the morning: 16
- Number of cats waiting for me at home: 4
- Number of cats who acted like they were glad to have me at home: 0
Last night's sponsored activities included Tequila tasting. I think I am still slightly boozed up, but at least there is no hangover. This should make for an interesting morning of presentations. I'm sure Verruca will be very entertained.
~Sal
Barely enough time for a quick nap and shower before the drinkfest begins...
~Sal
Monday, April 21- Thursday, April 24: Frantically attempt to meet my current deadline. I hate Crystal Reports.
Friday, April 25: Get haircut and color (purple!) Get pedicure (maybe also purple, have not decided yet.)
Saturday, April 26: Fly to Albuquerque, New Mexico. Hang out with my good friend Pam until...
Sunday, April 27: Pick up Sal from the airport. Hang out with her and Pam until the conference we're attending opens that evening with a welcome reception. Meet up with all our drinking buddies colleagues and catch up on the last year. Attempt to exercise moderation in the presence of an open bar. Fail miserably. Somehow manage to drink 32 oz of water and take 2 painkillers before falling into bed at 2 am.
Monday, April 28: Drag self out of bed in time to meet Sal and Pam for breakfast. Attend random conference presentations. Head to the vendor-sponsored evening entertainment. Attempt to exercise moderation in the presence of an open bar. Fail miserably. Somehow manage to drink 32 oz of water and take 2 painkillers before falling into bed at 2 am.
Tuesday, April 29: Find it exponentially more difficult to drag self out of bed, but manage anyway. Attend random conference presentations. Pick up Mr. Verruca from the airport. Lament the lack of an open bar that evening, but make up for it by deciding to expense the bar tab. Attempt to exercise moderation in the presence of an expense account. Fail miserably. Somehow manage to drink 32 oz of water and take 2 painkillers before falling into bed at 2 am.
Wednesday, April 30: Blah blah blah hangover. Blah blah blah conference stuff. Blah blah blah expense account. Blah blah blah drunk. Blah blah blah late bedtime.
Thursday, May 1: Hangover. Conference. Vendor-sponsored event - The Temptations! Woo! Blah blah blah open bar. Attempt not to fall down while dancing like last year.
Friday, May 2: Sleep in. Get up. Get on a plane to LA. Meet up with Sal at LAX and head to our luxurious penthouse suite. Call Stubbygirl to announce that we are there and that the carousing can begin. Carouse.
Saturday, May 3: Sleep in. Get up. Find something for breakfast. Wait for Fiestyred to arrive from San Diego. Force Stubby and Fie to help Sal and me write the scripts for the next couple of NI strips. Smuggle alcohol onto the beach. Light a bonfire. Take stupid Barbie pictures. Carouse.
Sunday, May 4: Wake up at 5 frickin' am to get to the airport. Be reminded once again of how much it sucks to fly while hungover - or worse yet, while still residually drunk from the night before. Hope that I'm not sweating vodka like last year, or, barring that, that my seatmates on the plane are themselves too drunk to notice (also like last year.)
Let us bow our heads in memory of all the brain cells that I'm about to kill. We have to do it now because I won't remember them after next week.
In other news, I LOVE ROCK BAND. Best game ever.
At least I'm not hallucinating from lack of sleep anymore.
Or am I?
- dumbass
- bastard
- salacious
- persnickety
- kvell
- bobble (but not bobblehead)
What are your favorites?
- yuz (as in, "Are yuz ready to order?" - our waitress actually said this to us last night)
- grounded (in the emotional sense of the word. I'm all for the teenage consequences sense of the word.)
- outside the box
- pop (in the decorating sense, not in the weasel or cereal sense.)
- mindfulness (the concept itself, in relation to the practice of some Eastern religions, has value. But when I'm being told by a diet web site that practicing "mindfulness" is one way to overcome emotional eating? HAAAAAATE.)
- emotional eating
- hipster (actually, I hate the people who describe themselves this way more than I hate the word itself. It's because I can't stop myself from reading all the comments on the articles at The Onion's A-V Club.)
- proactive
- impact (when it's not talking about a crater or a car crash, and ESPECIALLY when it's a verb)
- plate (when used as a verb, usually in cooking/restaurants)
- core (when talking about exercise)
- nucular (the worst part is that now, whenever I heard the word "circular," I think it's also wrong)
More to follow, I'm sure. Share your own shudder-inducing words and phrases! Think different!
(That last sentence was for Sal. Woo! :P)
A few years ago I decided I wanted a dog. My husband had been resistant to getting a dog, so I went on a brilliantly orchestrated dog-getting campaign that lasted about a year. The campaign consisted of saying, "I wanna dog," a lot ("Let's have McDonald's for dinner. What do you want?" "I wanna dog." "I'm getting a drink from the kitchen - do you want anything?" "I wanna dog." "You were really restless last night - did you have a bad dream?" "I wanna dog.") After several months of this, I casually let it drop that I'd be okay with buying a Westie - my husband grew up with two Westies that he adored. Done!
After a couple more months of having my husband research breeders, prices, etc, I mentioned that a dog from the ASPCA would cost $60, plus we'd be doing a really good thing. I am a sneaky woman, and my husband is a cheap Scot.
So we went to the shelter and brought home Foster.
Who'sh a good dog? You are! You are!
As an added bonus, we name-check Wooko in today's strip! YAAAAAAY!
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naughtybeard- aka Salamader and Verruca. SHARING IS GOOD.
- Naughtically Inclined, the webcomic
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