Posts Tagged ‘Fuck Yeah’

So I finally did my paperwork today. I suffer from serious procrastination and am the despair of the Northwest Kidney Centers Accounting Department. This particular paperwork was for last month. It’s a miracle they don’t send out a hit squad.

_______________________________________________________

I appreciate the many offers of baked goods, but I need to confess that, when I post shit to the internets, I don’t REALLY expect people to appease me.  I just don’t really ever think about the consequences of my actions, mostly because I have the attention span of a squirrel on meth but also because I never remember that the seven awesome people that are my loyal readers tend to want me to have whatever I want. You guys spoil me.You have ruined me for all other readers.

________________________________________________________

My awesome handmade Swedish Stitcher bag is arriving on Monday. I AM SO EXCITED. My friend Tammie makes these lovely bags, each more a usable work of art than a mere accessory, and my bag is finally coming.

It initially was absconded with by the Post Office. Those bastards wrecked the strap, but Tammie got it back and fixed it and dudes, I am so looking forward to this bag, my head may very well implode.

There will be pictures, oh yes.

_________________________________________________________

I would like to wish Chris Walton a very happy birthday. Hey, cool guy. I like you.

_________________________________________________________

So, I am selling most all of my books this week. My entire Terry Pratchett collection and all. I realized the other day that I really only read shit on the Kindle that you guys got me. It’s just too hard to hold onto a regular paperback, much less a hardcover, and if I can’t read them, why do I have them? Just to have? THAT, my friends, is the mindset that led me to keeping giant pots of dirt in my cupboards, and I refuse to repeat THAT little object lesson on letting go.

Plus, the money is needed. Isn’t it always?

__________________________________________________________

OK, NAPTIME. Woot.

Cat Safety Propaganda

Courtesy of Hyperbole And A Half, and if you haven’t already, you should probably bookmark that blog. No, for serious, she practically makes me hyperventilate with every post.

So.

Last year, the internet gave me a Kindle. This was awesome,  and not just because my friends are awesome, but because reading is like breathing, it must be done regularly and the Kindle makes it far easier for me, especially with the rheumatoid arthritis. I have the arthritis, not the Kindle. The Kindle doesn’t have joints. At least not diseased ones.

ANYWAY, I love my Kindle, which I call Robobook, and I take it everywhere with me. I took it to New England at Christmas, and while there I noticed that there was a spot on the screen. It also started taking a long time to load, and it was getting…quirkier by the day.

Also, the front and back were starting to separate, obviously ungood. I sent an email to Amazon, and they sent me a number to call, but I kept getting sick and having surgery and such, and so only got around to calling them today.

ANNNNNND the warranty ran out on the 23rd.

But, and here is why I have a deep abiding love for Amazon, they are replacing it anyway. And no, I didn’t yell at them or anything, they just said that is what they were going to do. And they are sending me a pre-printed label to return the old one.

And this is good because a life without my Robobook is a life not worth living, dudes. SHUT UP.

So, my friend, Cheryl, went to London with her wife, AK, and some other family members. She wrote that she was going on her blog, and showed a poster that was red with white letters and said KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON.

I fell in love with that poster.

Now, Cheryl is a fabulous author and we have known each other on the Internet for many years now. She is one of the few blog friends I have met in the Real Life, since she swept through Seattle on her book signing tour, and her novel The Lilac Mines is a lovely read, and something I highly recommend.

I love Cheryl and AK. I remember when they first were dating, how excited Cheryl was, and I am so pleased that they are happy.  They are awesome, and I love to read of their adventures.

Having said all that, I kind of blatantly hinted that I wanted them to bring me a copy of this poster. I am unprincipled in this way, but I never really expect people to lug stuff home for me. That would be kind of sociopathic.

So imagine my delight to find a tube with that poster in my mailbox. OK, not really in my mailbox, it’s a friggin’ tube and my mail box is tiny, and I almost just wrote “my box is tiny” but it seemed wrong somehow.

Also, it came with a flier that talks all about the British propaganda of WWII, which I am seriously interested in. And a lovely note from Cheryl, telling me that they lugged the poster all over Bath and York, and by the way, Cheryl’s handwriting is pretty fucking meticulous. Very readable, and what not.

Anyway, I would take a picture and show you the poster, except I am leaving it in the tube until I can get it framed. So, you guys are SOL.

And the point I am trying to make is, Cheryl and AK went to Britain, and what I got was this awesome poster.

I am trying to be more responsible.

*sigh*

And it is full of suck and lame.

I am naturally indolent and so taking this kind of action is entirely counter intuitive. Plus it is really hard to do shit when the cat is sitting on you. You may not realize this, but trust me. It is the absolute truth.

_________________________________________________________

I am in a fight with someone, but I’m pretty sure she doesn’t know that we are in a fight. This makes things quite challenging from my end.

Sometimes, I get angry. Mostly, I know that I am angry because I am reminded of my own least liked qualities.

This time, I’m pretty sure it’s because she is an unthinking cunt.

__________________________________________________________

I should probably go grocery shopping. But I am kind of comfy where I am. Thus the constant dilemma that is my life, and my struggle to be a responsible adult. Sort of responsible. SHUT UP.