Wednesday, December 31, 2008:

It's been a week since I have worked. The boredom is beginning to get to me, I think. Today, I epilated my armpits. Now they are as smooth as a plucked chicken's ass. I am making a plan of action to get back into my building. If my memory serves me, all I have to do is swipe my badge and pull the door open.


P.S. NEVER put vitamin E cream on freshly epilated armpits unless you are some kind of masochistic freak girl.

Things NOT To Do In A Public Restroom In Japan

I understand the need for proper public restroom behavior. Things to prevent sprinkles and smears. I can appreciate that, REALLY! But, do they HONESTLY think someone is going to go FISHING in the toilet? What kind of fish would thy catch, anyway?

Found this HERE.

Are My Jeans Trying To Tell Me Something?

Seriously. I have this horrible feeling I may have walked around in public like this, all day. Why didn't anybody tell me anything? Are my jeans trying to tell me something? Like "LOSE SOME WEIGHT, CHUBBY!"

Keeping House

I'll admit it, I am a disgusting pig when it comes to my apartment. But, lately, I've been watching a series called "How Clean Is Your House?" and I was absolutely "gobsmacked" and horrified at the conditions other people live in. Then, I looked around me and realized *I* am one of those people, if not well on my way. Look it up on YouTube.

Don't get me wrong. My place is NOTHING compared to "Nightmare In Northampton" or "Pat's Bedsit," but I can't let it get that way. I'm tired of it. I don't think it warrents calling Kim and Aggie over to clean it up. What it's going to take is ME getting off my ASS to do something about it. It's really stressful to come home, after 10 hours in a factory, to a pig sty and knowing I am the only one to blame for it.

Shame on me!

I've taken the challenge to keep one side of my kitchen clean and spotless. Well, as spotless as permanent stains on the counter top will allow. (If anyone has any tips to get rid of those, I'm all ears.) This means getting out the black light, turning off the kitchen light and going after the green and yellow glowing spots. That's bacteria. That's nasty.

So far, I walk into my kitchen, look at the clean side and think "WOW! That's really nice to see." Then, I look at the dirty side and turn away to look at the clean side again. My self psychologial warfare is working! Much like when I quit smoking.

Apartment Complex Stupidity #2

The saga continues. This time, Ms Hitler is going to remove things from peoples' porches if they are not asthetically pleasing. Take a gander at this. My answer to this letter? I emailed the city and told them I felt she was condoning the use of grills on the flammable porches. How I would love to be a fly on the wall in the office on Monday. O:)

Apartment Complex Stupidity

I understand, in this day and age, the need for companies to reduce their costs in any way they can. But, does my apartment's management company have to skimp with the office manager?

Seriously, this is what I found on my door as I was leaving for work, yesterday. At least this one knew how to use the clip next to my door, instead of wasting tape to fasten and seal all four sides of the paper to it.



She was even politically correct and included a Spanish translation. I'm told this one is worse than the English one, if not insulting.



Not to mention, it was stapled twice with the plate on the stapler set so the staples folded out, not in.

I can't wait to move.

Note To Self #5

Next time you dress up for Halloween at work, make sure nobody has a phobia of the monster you have chosen.

Note To Self #4

Before yelling "It burns us! It BUUUUURRRNS us!" like Gollum, look to see if supervisor is standing behind you.

10 things I learned from cleaning out my fridge ...

1. Bagged greens become liquid but remain green.

2. Brussell sprouts aren't made to be shoved to the back of the fridge.

3. That isn't beef jerky, that was a baby carrot!

4. I don't drink milk fast enough.

5. Where did this fried chicken come from?

6. Garlic DOES go bad.

7. Sour cream does NOT go good. It just keeps getting worse.

8. Provalone! Don't leave it alone!

9. I thought I had lost that pot!

10. Presto! It's pesto! Wait ... No ... That was mustard! EEW!

Dibabetes And Your Pet

Folks,

A lot of people aren't aware of this, but your cat, dog or horse (maybe others?) can become diabetic. My family has found this out the hard way. I have known for quite some time that animals are prone to diabetes, but I NEVER in a million years thought it would EVER happen to one of ours. But, it has. Our dog, Isis, is now taking two injections of insulin a day after she was rushed to the vet. Her blood glucose was 600+ when they first tested her and could have easily been higher as the vet's meter didn't register over that. We are very fortunate to still have our gentile angel with a heart of gold.

Note To Self #3

Picking at the hardened edges of molten sugar you just poured in to a container is never a good idea.

Magazine Cover Without Thought

My boyfriend and I were waiting for new tires to be put on his car. As his cutie-pie daughter pulled magazines from the rack and brought them to him, he discovered the following magazine:



Ok. So.... I'll get back to you when I have come up with a suitable comeback for that cover. Put yours in the comments. :)

Solution For The "Fuel Crisis"

I have a very economical solution to the "fuel crisis."

My ass.

Or more like what has been coming out of it ALL DAY! I could power a small city on the flammable gasses that have been creeping out of my butt! JEEZ!! What did I eat?

On the bright side, it keeps people at work at bay. :P

Note To Self #2

Eeyore is a cute, cuddly, depressed donkey from Winnie the Pooh. However, Eeyore on a t-shirt with stars and stripes letters saying "cheerless leader" tends to hack people off. Think before you buy another shirt from the teen section of Wal-Mart during election time and don't wear it to work, again.

Eeyore needs medication.

Sporn

Well, EA Games should have seen this coming a mile away. You make something that enables people to create life forms from their wildest imaginations and you eventually get SPORN.

Here is one of my naughty creations. NOT SAFE FOR WORK!!



And, for those of you who want to see if I am capable of creating something more serious; I present to you, Barney.



A pig:



To see my growing list of Spore creatures (mostly safe for work), you can view my YouTube channel.
http://www.youtube.com/user/LadyWeasel

Note To Self:

Pointing a heat gun at a PCB for long periods of time is not a good idea. This results in the PCB turning into charcoal. It is especially bad when the PCB is in for warranty work.

BAH!

This is not about ALL men, but one in particular.

I had been dating this guy from Oklahoma for almost a year. Everything seemed to be going OK. He and I were very busy and got together when we could. It was hard, but I decided that I liked him enough to have some patience with the whole busy thing. He didn't seem to mind driving down here to see me and seemed to understand that my finances did not permit me to drive to him. Then, one day, I decided I needed to be the one to drive up to see him because he had done enough of the traveling. I figured it was only fair. I told him I wanted to come see him and he said it would be great!

So, I made plans to drive up there. The day before I was supposed to go see him, he sends me a text message telling me to get on the IM program we used to communicate. There, he told me he had "bad news" because "some things came up for this weekend." I was rather upset and I told him a few days later just how much he had upset me by doing that. His only response was a very cold hearted "well, sorry, but things came up."

I got sick and didn't get online for a while, figuring that he would just call me on the phone if he wanted to talk. No phone call. When I felt better, I fired up my PC and logged on to the IM program, only to find no messages from him. He saw me online and said "I think we need to talk." And the rest is history. He dumped me for another woman he had apparently been seeing for who knows how long. I told him he should have told me this a long time ago and he said that he should have told me a MONTH ago because he had to make a "decision" that same weekend I was supposed to go see him.

What kind of shit is that? I wasn't aware I was in a contest. If it had been agreed that it was an open relationship to begin with, then it would have been OK. But he lead me to believe that it wasn't. So, I never dated ANYBODY the ENTIRE time I was seeing him. I WASTED MY TIME!! What a BASTARD!! It's not like I was dreaming of marrying him, one day. Maybe we would still be friends if he had just been HONEST with me in the first place! But, since I have a HUGE problem with dishonest people, I told him to lose my number and NEVER speak to me again.

CHRIST, what is wrong with people!?

I certainly hope he's happy with himself. And, I hope she does the same thing to him.

(Please, no 2 cents about long-distance relationships. They CAN work. This one happens to be one that didn't work thanks to someone not being able to keep his dick in his pants.)

More on the mustangs

Also a story on NPR
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=92691184

Lucky People ...

You know the ones I'm talking about? The ones who have EVERYTHING they could ever want, or at least they seem to. But my question is; Are they really happy? I think they are. Those sadistic bastards laugh at everyone else why they rake in the dough with very little effort. I hate them.

Being Grrl.

P&G has become about $4 richer, tonight. (unfortunately)

Long story short; I found myself in a situation where I absolutely COULD NOT get out of my car at 1:00am, on the way home from work. Thank goodness for 24 hour CVS pharmacies with drive up windows!

I was in a bad state and the only thing I could think of was to go to the CVS's window and ask the pharmacy tech for some supplies. As I pulled up, I noticed the only person on duty was a man. Too bashful to yell out "I NEED MAXI PADS!" in the dead of night, I wrote a note on the back of a fast food bag. It read "Please help! I need maxi pads and I can't get out of my car! :(" (I made the frowny face as pitiful as I possibly could)

The guy looked at the note, looked at me, looked back at the note, looked back at me; the whole time, I'm giving him the best pitiful doe-eyed look I could muster. I could see the sweat on his brow as the gears turned in his head, as if he was thinking "What the HELL do I get her?!" He gave me a sheepish grin and disappeared. Five minutes later, he came back with a pack of Always over night pads (with wings). Not exactly what I had in mind, but at that point, I didn't care. I thanked him, paid him and sped off into the dark night with my spoils. I can only imagine the stories he's telling. Maybe he'll blog about it...

I am happy to report that "Have a happy period" is written NOWHERE on this package or the pads, that I can find. I can't stop laughing about the whole thing.

Viacom vs. Youtube = Viacom vs. YOU!!

The BLM SUCKS big horse cock!

Yes, it's a very strong title, but that is exactly how I feel about the agency that is SUPPOSED to be protecting and managing our wild mustangs. YOURS and MINE. The mustangs belong to the citizens of the United States of America.

It has come to my attention that the BLM has been considering MURDERING thousands of mustangs they currently hold hostage in long-term facilities to "balance" their budget. These are wild horses that were forcefully evicted from their wild homes and torn apart from their families and friends. Yes, horses have complex relationships with each other as seen in this PBS documentary: Cloud: Wild Stallion of the Rockies

The BLM is also going to round up YET MORE mustangs from public lands, this year. For more detailed information, please visit The Cloud Foundation's Website.

Already, I have signed the petition and written to everybody listed on The Cloud Foundation's website that would have anything to do with this issue.

Unfortunately, I discovered this only 2 days ago. I wish I would have seen it sooner. You can EMAIL the BLM and thell them what you think. Here is my most recent letter to the BLM, submitted on their feedback page:

I have already emailed some BLM people about this. But, I wanted to make my stance on the issue of euthanizing THOUSANDS of MY wild horses. Yes, I said MY wild horses because they belong to ALL the people of the United States of America. Your proposal to massacre one of our nation's icons of FREEDOM is very UN-PATRIOTIC.

What is your REAL objective, to get rid of ALL wild mustangs? Your roundups are inhumane as it is. Driving the horses MILES AND MILES to an uncertain fate. I saw the documentary where a very young foal, nicknamed "Flint," was driven in a roundup with his band. That foot injury was the fault of the BLM.

What does the BLM have to gain from persecuting the animals you are supposed to be protecting? Cattle grazing? Sheep grazing? Oil? What? I guess it would be to "balance your budget."

Instead of MURDERING thousands of MY mustangs, let them go free in the lands that were set aside for them in the first place. You wouldn't have to feed them, would you? Nature has a way of managing herself, and if that means the horses die at the hands of nature, so be it. At least they would die proud and free, and not at the business end of a rifle.

LEAVE THE MUSTANGS ALONE!!!!!!!!!!

Although there has already been a rather strongly worded letter from two congressmen to the BLM, we need to keep at them!

GO MOM GO!

How many parents have wanted to do this?

I-A-B`s Candidate for Mom of the Year 2008

Staying in touch ...

We should all do it. It's taken me this long to be able to write about this.

The Friday before Memorial Day, I stumbled across a posting on Tribe.net regarding a man I considered a friend. The posting was about his death, the day before my birthday, last year. I had not known and I was absolutely crushed. For me, it was like it had just happened, only there would be no closure for me.

I only wish I had stayed in contact with people so I could have at least gone to his memorial service, as he died and was buried out of country.

Do what you can to stay in touch with the people you care about. You never know.

3-year old tells all from his mommy's restroom stall

I did not write this. My sister sent it to me and I have no idea where she got it. I almost peed my panties when I read this.

This is too funny

A 3-year-old tells all from his mother's restroom stall.


My little guy, Cade, is quite a talker.
He loves to communicate and does it quite well.
He talks to people constantly, whether we're in the library,
the grocery store or at a drive-thru window.

People often comment on how clearly he speaks for a just-turned-3-year-old.
And you never have to ask him to turn up the volume.
It's always fully cranked.

There have been several embarrassing times that I've wished the meaning
of his words would have been masked by a not-so-audible voice,
but never have I wished this more than last week at Costco.

Halfway, through our shopping trip, nature called,
so I took Cade with me into the restroom.
If you'd been one of the ladies in the restroom that evening,
this is what you would have heard coming from the second to the last stall:
~~~~~~~~~~~~
'Mommy, are you gonna go potty?
Oh! Why are you putting toiwet paper on the potty, Mommy?
Oh! You gonna sit down on da toiwet paper now?
Mommy, what are you doing?
Mommy, are you gonna go stinkies on the potty?'

At this point I started mentally counting how many women
had been in the bathroom when I walked in.
Several stalls were full ... 4? 5?
Maybe we could wait until they all left before I had to make my
debut out of this stall and reveal my identity.

Cade continued, 'Mommy, you ARE going stinkies aren't you?
Oh, dats a good girl, Mommy!
Are you gonna get some candy for going stinkies on the potty?
Let me see doze stinkies, Mommy!
Oh .. Mommy! I'm trying to see in dere.
Oh! I see dem.
Dat is a very good girl, Mommy.
You are gonna get some candy!'

I heard a few faint chuckles coming from the stalls on either side of me.
Where is a scr eaming new born when you need her?
Good grief!
This was really getting embarrassing.
I was definitely waiting a long time before exiting.

Trying to divert him, I said,
'Why don't you look in Mommy's purse and see if you can find some candy?
We'll both have some!'
'No, I'm trying to see doze more stinkies.

Oh! Mommy!' He started to gag at this point.
'Uh oh, Mommy.
I fink I'm gonna frow up. Mommy, doze stinkies are making me frow up!!
Dat is so gross!!'

As the gags became louder, so did the chuckles outside my stall.
I quickly flushed the toilet in hopes of changing the subject.
I began to reason with myself: OK.
There are four other toilets.
If I count four flushes, I can be reasonably assured that those
who overheard this embarrassing monologue will be long gone.

'Mommy! Would you get off the potty, now?
I want you to be done going stinkies!
Get up! Get up!'
He grunted as he tried to pull me off.
Now I could hear full-blown laughter.
I bent down to count the feet outside my door.

'Oh, are you wooking under dere, Mommy?
You wooking under da door?
What were you wooking at, Mommy?
You wooking at the wady's feet?'

More laughter. I stood inside t he locked door and tried to assess the situation.
'Mommy, it's time to wash our hands, now.
We have to go out now, Mommy.'

He started pounding on the door. 'Mommy, don't you want to wash your hands?
I want to go out!!'
I saw that my 'wait 'em out' plan was unraveling.
I sheepishly opened the door, and found standing outside my stall,
twenty to thirty ladies crowded around the stall,
all smiling and starting to applaud.

My first thought was complete embarrassment, then I thought,
'Where's the fine print on the 'motherhood contract' where I signed away
every bit of my dignity and privacy?'

But as my little boy gave me a big, cheeky grin
while he rubbed bubbly soap between his chubby little hands,
I thought, I'd sign it all away again,
just to be known as Mommy to this little fellow.


(Shannon Popkin is a freelance writer and mother of three.
She lives with her family in Grand Rapids ,
Michigan , where she no longer uses public restrooms)

If Sesame Street Was Censored

It would go something like this:

How To Defuse A Milk Bomb

I was sitting at my desk and heard something fall over. So, I looked behind me, and there was a VERY swollen 1/2 gallon of 2% milk sitting on the bar. I guess I forgot to put the milk away. The A/C had been off all night while I was at work.

So, what do you do with a milk bomb?

1. Carefully pick the bomb up by the handle and gently place it in the sink.
2. Turn bomb and slowly pull the tab off the cap.
3. Clean cheese off of sink, wall, floor, fish tank, computer monitor, table, television, self, etc.

P.S. Remember to put the milk bomb in the side of the sink with the garbage disposal.

I love you Flylady!

I've known about Flylady.net for a while, and, quite frankly, I have been too damned lazy to read it. That is, until yesterday. I shined my sink! It took me several hours to get it done between clipping coupons and watching a warehouse fire from a grassy hill, but I did it! I may even take a picture and show you. Unfortunately, I don't have a before picture. But, if my dishes are still on the counter next to the sink, you'll have an idea. "Mystery water," indeed, Flylady!

And, as soon as I can watch this video without getting all choked up, I'll go on to step 2. http://www.flylady.net/pages/get_started_1.asp

Fuck you, Little Debbie!

That's right. You heard me. Fuck you. And let me tell you why, Little Miss 320 Calories Per Serving Zebra Cake TRAMP! Why do you have to make your snacks so delicious? I mean, couldn't you put jalepenos in them, or something?

I know what you put in them. Crack. It has to be! Please tell me it's crack so I can go to rehab and forget about the delightfully sweet, smushy goodness that is a Zebra Cake.

Are you in cahoots with the blood glucose meter companies?

On The Job Training

Having been unemployed since October 17, 2007, with only a few temp jobs here and there, I was excited to get a job at an electronics manufacturing company. Ok, ok, it's through a temp agency, but the assignment is long-term with no set end date.

It would be great, except for a few key issues:

1. My trainer speaks broken English. This wouldn't be a problem if she didn't make up for her lack of language skills by herding me around like a goat and getting upset with me when I fumble with my work.

2. Have they ever heard of SAFETY GLASSES?! My god! The last thing I want to happen when I am using a soldering iron, is for MOLTEN METAL to splash into my eyes! I did ask for a pair of safety glasses.. Never got any. Hello, OSHA?

3. This place is an ergonomic nightmare. We stand up all night. That would be fine, if it wasn't for the fact I have to bend over to work on my PCBs....

4. Blame the "new guy" .... What is wrong with people who think that just because someone is new, means it is their fault something went wrong or did not get done. Have they ever stopped to think that maybe the trainer NEVER TOLD ME TO DO IT?! Besides, why get all bent out of shape over some lousy stickers? Pfft!

5. They tell us when to take breaks and lunch. Yup. There is not a whistle or a bell that sounds. Instead, there is annoying MIDI music that blares over loudspeakers in the production area.

Time to start looking for another job!