I am defective

Seriously, there are just too many parts of me that don't work. I want my money back. I had such high hopes after starting my new job, that now I was away from all the old, nasty files and away from that environment, I would never get sick again. I have gotten sick. I have missed a few days with horrible migraines, and now I have just spent the weekend in the hospital with a ruptured ovarian cyst. I really really hate the hospital. Everyone was really nice and they gave me lots of lovely morphine, so I spent most of the time alternating between writhing in pain and being really floaty and stoned, but still, it's a hospital, with the johnny shirts and the uncomfortable beds and the needles.

Desoto had to stay at my parents house, and they took great care of him, but he really missed me. I can tell because now he seems to want to be attached to me, following me everywhere (and by everywhere I mean between the bed and the bathroom because it still hurts too much to go father than that), sleeping as close to me as he can get, and trying to lick my face all the time. While it is nice that he missed me, the face licking is getting old.

Read Instructions Carefully

This is the funniest thing I have seen for ages! I saw it on A Socialite's Life and had to share.

I fear for our youth...

I just read these on Overheard in New York:

Girl #1: It's not that I hated history, I just hated all the
memorization. All the names, and dates, and places. And the wars! I mean, how am I supposed to remember whether Hitler was in World War I or World War II?
Girl #2: I think he had his own war.


Teen girl #1: Okay. Maybe I'm, like, retarded for not knowing this,
but...did you guys know that other countries have national anthems, too?
Teen girl #2: Duh! It's the same song, in different languages!

Sad news

So Dana Reeve, Christopher Reeve's wife, just died of cancer. Very sad news, especially for their son, who I think is around 12 or 13. To go through what that family went through, Christopher Reeve's accident, his death and now the death of Mrs. Reeve from lung cancer (and she was not a smoker), just seems so unfair. You know? Why didn't OJ get cancer? Or child molesting Michael Jackson? Or Hitler? It just seems wrong that this poor woman, who already went through so much, should lose her life in her early forties when there are so many bad people out there who never even catch a cold.

My boss is mean

I was speaking to a friend of mine at lunchtime today, and she told me that she had just waited on Paul MacCartney and his wife at the Roots store here in town. I immediately went back to work and told my boss that stalking the former Beatle as he shopped around town was a legitimate reason for me to be able to leave work for the afternoon. She did not agree. Mean.

The sweet spell of success

It worked! My profanity laced rant at the kitchen sink somehow worked as a magical spell that caused my water tap to fix itself. Yay! See, sometimes it does work.

I miss the Olympics

I am very whiny today. There is nothing good on tv. Its cold out. My kitchen is broken. Actually, only the hot water in my kitchen is broken. The cold water works just fine, but when I turn on the hot water, no water comes out. Now the hot water works just fine upstairs, but not in the kitchen. It's very odd. It worked yesterday, but I came home for lunch, and it's broken. I went back to work after lunch, hoping that by the time I got home after work, it would have magically fixed itself. This is how I handle quite a few things, surprisingly few of which have ever magically fixed themselves, and no surprise this didn't either. My windshield wipers did magically fix themselves, but then again, they magically broke themselves, but wait... so did the hot water, so I am not going to give up just yet. I'll wait until tomorrow. I did call my Dad, because I always call my dad about stuff like that, and he told me what he always tells me - call someone to come and fix it. He doesn't believe in magic either.