Posts Tagged ‘Things You’d Rather Not Know’

So I’m pretty angry, in a kind of general way, but I am trying hard not to take it out on anyone because I have a feeling that I’m just on the rag and not feeling good.

Surprisingly, that knowledge does not make me any less stabby.

Fortunately, I am pretty much caught up on housework and whatnot, so I can go to sleep early. And I need to be plenty rested for tomorrow’s boob squishing.

I’ll totally let you know how that goes.

So today my computer spontaneously downloaded a virus pretending to be antivirus software. I know, right? Even my computer is a smart ass.

Robert answered my eventually desperate call for help and told me how to fix what I am now calling The Issue, because when the Unbearable Hotness actually called me, I told him that the computer was broken, and he told me I was wrong, and then something about software, but by then I had stopped listening, because if Robert was taking the time to inform me of my wrongness, it probably was not gonna be that hard to fix. This is the wonder that is the Unbearable Hotness Of Robert.

And so I am obviously on line once more, which is awesome.

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I had a physical this week, my first in three years, because I am usually so busy doing health crisis management that I forget to do the regularly scheduled maintenance.

You will be thrilled to know, however, that with all of this technology, PAP smears and mammograms? Still pretty gruesome.

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So a long time ago, I submitted a post to Indie Ink. It was so very long ago that I forgot what the post was about. Turns out, it was about sex toys. Been causing quite a stir, apparently.

My parents are so very proud.

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So to recap: every single thing in my life is a smart ass, I am remarkably healthy for someone in bad health, and last year I bought two sex toys. And lube. Let us not forget the lube.

*sigh*

I’m going to watch some Shark Week to take the taste of despair out of my mouth. Tastes like sock, BTW.

So, it’s Shark Week, and I keep running into people who are like What’s the big deal? What’s so great about sharks?

This is brain freezingly annoying.

Sharks ARE AWESOME. They are an apex predator, the top of the ocean food chain, and yet, unlike other top predators, we know almost nothing about them.

Like lions. They have been studied and researched, and so we know tons about them. But great white sharks? Not only do we not know much about them, they have never been able to keep one alive in captivity for more than a matter of days. That is fucking fascinating.

I have been fascinated by sharks since I was seven, which is when I saw Jaws for the first time. Yeah, I was scared out of my wits, but I was also seriously interested.

And so I started to read everything I could about sharks, and was amazed. They have barely changed in the millions of years they have been here. There are sharks that can swim in fresh, brackish water, and have been seen some 400 miles up river. There are so many different kinds of sharks, it could make your head spin.

They are beautiful, and amazing and seriously endangered, because of the fear generated about them, because they are a delicacy in some parts of the world, and because they are casualties of commercial fishing. And since they reproduce slowly and infrequently, there have been serious inroads made into the populations.

So the fact that great whites have been seen off the New England coast and elsewhere off the US is excellent news, because the presence of apex predators is an indicator of a healthy ocean ecosystem.

So yeah, I love the Shark Week. And yeah, I love the sharks. And no, I do not swim. I mean, I know how, I just choose not to. Small price to pay, I think.

Things are a little fucked up at the moment. I’m having an arthritis flare, which sounds pretty and fun but really isn’t. Because all the little bones in my hands and feet feel like they are broken.

I am typing this with my nose. OK, that was a lie.

Also, it is at the very end of a really long month, so I am broke and have resorted to my usual coping mechanism, which is researching crazy shit on the internet. Remember when I tried to toilet train my cats? And when I was going to stop washing my hair? All concepts conceived at the end of the month when I was broke. It’s like I get infected with loony.

So, in an effort to not be crazy, I am going to go take a nap then do some household chores. Let’s all hope that tides me over, but if I do get a crazy idea that I become convinced is good, believe me, I’ll be writing about it.

I can’t help myself, dudes. That’s why I am heavily medicated. For your protection.

I went to the mall today with Mr Pretty and his friend The Jewel. Despite the pleasant company, it was pretty appalling. I am just the wrong age/weight/sensibility for the mall, I think. And I’m pretty judgy, so there’s that, lady my age wearing tan cords that flared and were about an inch too short. *International Symbol For I’m Judging You*

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I accidentally locked my cat, Frannie, in the bathroom at the beginning of my 3 1/2 hour dialysis run, and didn’t realize until two hours in. I got off the machine, let her out, then hooked up again.

She ran around howling for a bit, like you do, and then jumped up on the shelf by my chair, at which point I saw the HUGE DANGLING PIECE OF POOP HANGING FROM HER BUTT.

*sigh*

It then became a question of whether I could sit in the chair for the remaining 45 minutes ignoring the fact that the poop was somewhere in my house without being in the litter box, or if I would be compelled to get off the machine early to deal with said poop in a timely manner.

And yes, I got off the machine early. Stupid goddamned cats. Filthy filthy filthy.

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So I was pretty sure, after the mall, that poop was going to be the high point of my day, and I was a little sad about that, when I got to my door and LO! THERE WAS POPCORN! Because Grant is my personal hero, even though I don’t usually say that because he gets all squeed by affection if it is not being expressed by some bunny who may very well be in her thirties, but is dressed as a schoolgirl and looks about twelve.

Thanks, Grant.

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Also, I accidentally threw away my favorite garnet earrings. Because I can’t have nice things.

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All of Los Gatos are fighting each other under the bed, where they went when some dipshit thought it would be funny to set off a string of firecrackers in the back alley. It’s quiet now, but it seems they would rather fight under the bed than actually hide under some other piece of furniture. Because they are not very bright, my cats. What they lack in smarts, they more than make up for in evil.

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I need to go eat a baked potato now, and I only made enough for one, so go away.