Day 4. Still no shoe. Tensions mounting.

Here there be rambling.

This afternoon was pretty damn great. And that scares me, because Mr. Murphy still owes me a kick in the ass, and it was a Monday. He's gotta have something really bad planned.

It was warm out today. T-shirt weather. I took a walk this morning just because it felt so good outside (my walks are usually motivated by a desire to postpone committing a homicide until the witnesses disperse).

It was a good work day. I got a lot done. Then the UK guys got back to us, and not only were they receptive to the features I requested... they had anticipated them and designed ahead for them. So not only was their answer a rather out-of-character yes, it was a yes, and would you like to supersize your order for an additional fifteen cents?

I stopped by Target on my way home to pick up a DVD set for a friend of mine. I'm really shitty at giving gifts at holiday seasons, so when I see something that makes me think of someone, I usually pick it up right then and give it to them. Actually, that's probably why I'm so bad at giving gifts at holiday season: I can't hang onto a gift once I've purchased it. It's okay, though. I've embraced it. I call them Happy Today Presents and just hand them out.

Where was I? Oh, yes. The internet. It has porn and lolcats. And porn. It has to have surpassed sliced bread as the greatest human accomplishment by now.

No, wait... DVDs. Right. I knew Blue was a fan of the show, so after I made sure she didn't have them already, I picked them up on the way home. Stopped by Target, nicked in, grabbed the last set they had, and cashed out. I was feeling kinda bouncy on my way out, 'cause it's always fucking awesome when you get someone something you know they'll like, so I was whistling my way back to my car.

I got out into the cars and someone started calling to me to get my attention. I turned to look, and this little old black lady in a motorized scooter was trying to wave me down. I walked over to see what she needed, and it turned out that she'd bought a big case of bottled water, and couldn't get it into her car's trunk by herself. No idea why the asshats at Target didn't offer to help her, when it was pretty obvious she couldn't lift the damn things herself, but whatev.

Hey, I used teenager slang from a couple years ago that's totally out of style. I'm officially old.

So I helped the lady lift the water into her trunk, and then talked to her for a few minutes afterward, and she was the most charming little old woman I think I've ever met. I was grinning ear-to-ear for an hour or two after.

Whatever's headed my way is going to be nasty.

Waiting for the other shoe...

It's been a pretty good week for us at Casa del Taco:

1. Wifezilla's broken the 20 pound mark on Weight Watchers and is going strong. Her success has inspired many of my family to follow in her footsteps... and has also given them enough guilt and accountability to follow in her success :) I'm terribly proud of her.
2. My father-in-law is responding well to his chemotherapy. They're going to do another scan at his next session in a few weeks to determine whether he's done or needs a few more. In any case, he's doing well and won't be at it much longer.
3. I got a fucking raise. Healthy one, too. It's nice, both because I've been busting my ass lately and because I've had only one other raise in six damn years. Granted, the end of the dot com bust was in there, but it's still frustrating. Not to mention the fact that my last raise was pretty fucking piddling and I only got it because I got promoted, and they had to give me a raise so the books would work out right. Still, I can't complain. Now I'm making what recruiters tell me I should be. Of course, this comes the day before an interview I was fairly certain I'd knock out of the park, so it's doing my paranoia no good...
   

My grandfather used to tell us that Irish Luck was stepping in a pile of dog shit and then realizing you were wearing your bad shoes (what a lucky son of a bitch I am!). I'm bracing myself for the bad news...

I lack what they call "social skills."

So yesterday my stomach wasn't doing all that great. Let's just gloss over the details and say that what I did to the bathroom wasn't pretty, and it took three flushes of our industrial grade toilets to undo the damage.

I washed up and left the bathroom. A woman was leaving the women's room at the exact same moment, and she stopped and gave me a look of... well, not horror, exactly. Perhaps concern?

It was an awkward moment, and I lack the social finesse to navigate such treacherous waters. But, I reasoned, I've never seen this woman before, so she must work for the other company on our floor. What's the worst that could happen?

So I did the first thing that popped in my head, which seemed pretty funny at the time:

I held up three fingers and said, "That's right. Three flushes." And I walked off for the breakroom to reload on caffeine.

When I stopped to fish my access badge out of my pocket, she walked past me. As in going the opposite direction of the other company on our floor. I watched until she got to the end of the hallway, scanned her badge, and entered our office space.

Shit.

Heh. Shit. I just caught that.

Oh hell... I'm doing it again.

Precocious little thing, isn't she?

So wifezilla, my daughter, and I stopped by Target today on our way home from breakfast. Wifezilla needed a few things and wanted to do a little Christmas shopping while we were there.

So while wifezilla was off doing her thing, I took the wee one over to the grocery side of the store to nab a free cookie. On the way there, she took a hard right and bolted into the personal hygiene aisle. When I rounded the corner, she was standing there with a box of tampons, which she proudly held up and informed me, "These are for mommy's butt."

5 Things With a Vengeance: Vague Apologies

I was hanging out in Blue's office today, and we were trading embarrassing stories, and one of the ones I told has been stuck in my head since. Haven't thought of it in years, and it's had me giggling under my breath all afternoon.

I was trying to figure out something to post here, and finally decided to use that story to build an entry. And what the hell, I'm going to make (most of) them vague to confuse and tantalize anyone who cares. Which amounts to... hold on... carry the one... nobody.

So anyway, here's five apologies I owe people but never gave. Been carrying some of these around with me for better than half my life now. Wow. I don't even know how to get in touch with most of these people to give the apology, but what the fuck, I'm already going to hell for better reasons.

1. Jessica: I'm sorry that I said what I said, and I'm even sorrier I said it where I said it. I was 14, and not really capable of empathy... not that it's any excuse. I thought it would be funny, because it was funny to me when you said those kinds of things in a different setting. I didn't realize how bad it would hurt your feelings until it was already out of my mouth. You were my best friend at the time, and continued to be my best friend for a long time after that, which is testament to how much you rock. You're still one of the best friends I've ever had. I'd never make you feel that way on purpose.
2. Alyson: I'm sorry about the barf. In my defense, there were spiders. S. Plural. Christ.
   
3. Patrick: I'm sorry about the porno magazines. I really thought they'd stop sending them to you before a whole year had gone by and your mail started getting forwarded to your mom's house. On the bright side, she stopped worrying about you being gay for a while.
4. Suzie: I'm sorry, I really did forget the date of your show. I've never really been good with anything outside a regular schedule. I wish I had been there.
5. Dr. Beaumier: I'm sorry I laughed at you so hard you had to go home and change clothes. In my defense, dude, you were wearing spandex cycling shorts with a dress shirt. What the fuck? Actually, fuck it, I don't owe you an apology... laughing long and hard is the correct response. Jackass.
   

Their brains are like little sponges.

So I very nearly taught my sweet little daughter the word fuck tonight. Fortunately, I worked harder than I should have this week and managed to turn a simple case of the creeping crud into what now feels suspiciously like bronchitis. The coughing fit that elicited the poetical utterance also rendered it unintelligible.

My daughter now yells, "Ock!" every time something annoys her.

Necro Feel Ya II

Grimmy sent me a screenplay tonight. I only mention it so you can writhe in jealousy. That's right. Writhe, my pretties, writhe. No, seriously, writhe.

Oh, this? It's just baby oil. Don't worry about it. Get back in the jello pool. No, really. No big deal.

Oh, yeah.