Memorial Day Weekend - Recap

OK, I know we are still technically in Memorial Day Weekend, but I figured I'd throw this up before I forgot, especially as I have a long day tomorrow.

So, did I do as I planned? Not really. I mean, I did catch up on some household chores (and have time to do more) like washing the bedding in the Bat's room and cleaning of my room etc. But I didn't go to Macy's (though I did pick up nail polish at Target). Oh, and I've been reading (both for fun and work documents in preparation for a day long meeting tomorrow). Whatever, who cares what I said I was going to do, let's jump into what I did do, shall we.

On Saturday, I moved some plants around in my back garden (that I share with TIM, our brain damaged neighbor) so that I could add some new ones the Bat brought me from work. Then, because I've been dying to do this, I asked the Bat if we could make some bird houses because I'd never had the opportunity to take a wood shop class in school. And bless his little heart, he said OK! So he did the sawing of wood on the one saw that is dangerous and I did some other sawing. He helped more than I would have liked but it was either that or have him get really frustrated and yelly. I measured wood, sawed it, measured other wood, sawed it, repeat, and then went into the garage. This is where I used a little air pressure powered staple gun to staple it all together (oh, I also drilled holes in. The Bat did the first one after I damn near slit my wrist and then we decided I should drill the holes before assembly and to do so by standing on the wood on the grass). Anyhow, the Bat came up with fun little rooftops for them and there they are, at the top of this post, in all their hideous glory. Well, the yellowish one is now red washed and the roofs of the other two are also red washed. My favorite is the white washed one on the left. I need to get some dowel rods to give the birds a damned perch but I'm happy with what I have at the moment. The Bat even made me a bird feeder to try and lure some birdies in.

After my adventures in wood shop, I made another bottle garden using some more of the flowers the Bat brought home (because he is insane and keeps making me save bottles even though my gardens are not flourishing.) Oh, and I helped white wash the part of the greenhouse that faces out into the backyard so that it looks a bit nicer for next week's party. I was a bit bloody and covered in paint so when I ran to Home Depot to get red pain for the red wash, I was the only mother fucker who looked like she'd been working. Side note: you cannot just ask for a small can of red paint. No, you have to go and pick out a fucking color and then have them mix it up because bitches are difficult and particular. I just chose the first one I saw. Cranberry Zing. It's fucking red, OK?

That was Saturday. Yesterday, Sunday, I went with the Bat, his cousin, and Monkey and one of her friends to super east Texas. The Bat's friend got into the truck with us (the girls were out to go look at the little children), the cousin and I sat in back, and we did a little tour of the property, including getting a bit stuck some mud at one point (so I got muddy). Then we got down to work. The Bat and his friend chain sawed some wood and then the cousin and I hauled the scrub branches into a pile. When that was finished, the Bat's friend poured gasoline over the pile and the Bat lit it on fire and there was a great big WHOOSH that startled me. The Bat lost some leg hair but no one was injured. Work done, we set things up for a bit of shooting, using a 22 mm rifle for everyone but me (because I suck at sighting those), a 22 gauge shot gun, and the cousin's 9mm Glock. The girls both tried the shotgun (Monkey HAD to because the Bat wanted her to get used to it as it is her gun) but were too afraid to try the Glock. This was the first time in at least a year and a half that I've been shooting and the first time ever that I shot outside. It was really fun, albeit it loud.  I was a little nervous about the shotgun because I'd never fired one before and was worried about the shoulder kick back, but it was actually pretty fun and I think I shot it three times. It was loud but, surprisingly, shooting the Glock is what made my hearing get muffled for awhile. But it was fun and it felt good to shoot again, even though I knew I wasn't hitting my target, save for when using the shotgun.

Afterwards, we headed home, stopping at Jack in the Box for lunch (I mention this only because it was the first time I'd ever been there) and then got home and just chilled. The girls went to the lake while the grown ups went and chilled in the greenhouse with some beer. We then proceeded to taser one another. Yes, that's right, we tasered one another with a taser. Because that is the weird shit you do when you live where I do. Cousin tased me twice, when the girls came back they each tased me once a piece, and the Bat tased me a number of times, mostly so we could get it on video so I could post it on Facebook, to the horror of my mother, who thinks I should take up yoga or meditation if I want to live life and try new things (which was the reason I gave for doing this.) What does it feel like? Honestly, it feels like you are being bitten. But the weirdest part is that your muscles involuntarily move to make your arm go away from the taser (we only did arms, save for the one time the Bat did my thigh through my jeans). That's why I did it so many times, because of the weird sensation. Oh, and we all (the grown ups) did it on our wrists because it was super weird to have our fingers curl up on their own.

So there you have it. That is what I did with my weekend. Today, I have a lot of work reading to do and TIM is going to come over to do some weeding for me. I have a feeling it will be the least fun day of the weekend but that's fine because my arms are killing me. Hope everyone else enjoyed themselves and yes, that they remembered to take a moment to be grateful to the fallen who served to protect the freedom of our country and to try and free people in other countries. 

This is MUCH Better

Remember how I suddenly grew into Old Lady Bitchface yesterday? Well so far today I'm in a fantastic mood. I was a little annoyed during my ride into work though, as there was an accident blocking all but the left lane so it took forever. Usually I have a low level annoyance to that sort of thing because I'm used to it but today I felt particularly angry because some jackass or jackasses deigned to get into an accident on my beautiful President George Bush Turnpike or whatever it is called. Honey, I pay a ridiculous amount of money to take this road into work in the morning and am, therefor, automatically promised the ability to drive 80 miles and hour on a fairly empty highway. What you assholes did this morning was not in the agreement I signed when I got my toll tag to bring down the ludicrous amount in tolls I pay. Knock that shit off and don't do it again.
Who is excited for the three day weekend? I know I am, even though I kept forgetting that it was this weekend and not the next. It is utterly rad when that happens, you forget that you have an extra day off until someone reminds you. That happened back around President's Day as well, and I only found out on Wednesday that my weekend was going to be extended. I wonder if I'll follow through with any of my grand plans regarding chores. I really should, at very least, go to Macy's and use my credit. And maybe window shop at Home Depot.

Oh my god, Home Depot! Ever since I started dating the Bat, Home Depot has become the one store I don't mind spending time in. I hate shopping but I could probably browse through Home Depot for days. And because of the stuff I've learned to do and the things I want to start doing, I am itching to buy a tool box so that I can begin acquiring tools. I do have some, surprisingly enough. I have a handful of wrenches or pliers, two screw drivers, and a pink hammer that also has screw drivers inside the handle. But I want big girl tools so that  I can basically build things like I'm taking wood shop. The Bat has some wood I am going to use to make bird houses to hang around the back yard. I've always liked the idea of building things but I've never really done it so it will be a fun (and hopefully successful) project.

I also want new nail polish so that I can try and paint my nails because I'm less inclined to pick them when they are polished. I could also use some new eyeliner and eye shadow since I've been making an effort to put makeup on before going to work and/or going to girls' night. I have trouble with eye shadow, though, because other than really neutral colors, I don't know what looks good on me (though I know for sure that purple does me zero favors). I should google that shit. I could also stand to get new lipstick. That sucks too because there is a very particular shade that I really like and I can never find it.

Maybe I'll do that after work today, go to Target and get some makeup and play around with it. Maybe I'll go to the library and put in some time since little miss bitchface skipped yesterday. Who knows? All I know is that I'm in an extremely good mood right now and am hoping to keep it up. Me in a good mood is far more pleasant to be around after all.

Happy Friday!

Little Miss Cranky

How is it possible to be in a funk on  Thursday afternoon when I only have an hour left of work? I was plowing through my work this morning, listening to Jango (the only free streaming music station that has yet to be blocked by my company's firewalls as far as I can tell) and then WHAM! I hit this wall of frustration because I'm a cry baby when I can't seem to figure things out. I'm not literally crying but I'm incredibly frustrated that I cannot, for the life of me, mock up a file. I've tried copying over an actual file in production but fucked that up. I took a file from production and literally typed a line of:

12345678901234567890123456789012345678901234567890123456789012345678901234567890

so that I would know, with all certainty, where each element was supposed to start (as in, element A begins in space 1 whilst element C, regardless of how many characters, begins at space 271). But that didn't work either and I was told to just write over a production file (which I already tried) by the most patient fucking developer of all time.

And that was AFTER I read my morning emails and discovered one that basically said "remember how I told you guys that you each have four tracks to test by Friday so you'll need to make your test case workbooks and gave you 2.5 days notice? Yeah, deployment has been pushed back to June so I hope neither one of you have started working on that." What the fuck, bitch? Did you think we were going to leave it until today when the testing had to be complete by Friday? OF COURSE THAT IS WHAT I WAS BLOODY WORKING ON.

And then the monthly team meeting, during which time I had to listen to King Shit talk about how X was on the back burner because there was a problem with Y and that takes priority because it affects EVERYTHING and after that he has all this work and all this work and blah blah blah. Uhm, you also said you can't move forward with super important project Y until you get answers back from the vendor so yeah, you can be working on X and stop sounding so god damn self important. Meanwhile, ding bat over here can't seem to mock up a god damn file, furiously worked on putting together three and a half test case workbooks for something that isn't needed till next month, and finished four specs that should have been one.

I actually want to beat something up or break a bunch of dishes or something. I have a feeling that stocking shelves at the library is not going to have the same soothing affect on me.Then again, it is a pretty peaceful activity, just listening to music and stocking and shelving.

There is also something else nagging at my mind but I can't think what it is. I'm not sure if I'm afraid to identify it or if I just don't know. Does that ever happen? It's almost like knowing that you forgot something but you can't put your finger on it. But instead, there is something troubling you or something amiss and you can't even identify what part of your life it resides in. I hate that feeling so I'm going to just pretend it isn't there for awhile and wait until it fully matures and develops until I worry about it.

Here's hoping that funk or no funk, I remain productive through my last hour of work and manage to drag my ass to the library to get my volunteering on.

Just let them go already

Not Exactly Sophie's Choice
What I do understand: spending money trying to protect endangered species like rhinos and elephants because their numbers are dwindling due to poaching.

What I do not understand: spending money trying to keep pandas from becoming extinct. Seriously, dude, pandas need the help of humans to fucking breed. I think that is nature's way of saying that natural selection is not in their favor and they are kind of meant to die off.

Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against pandas and think they are cute, but if they don't have the innate desire to breed and carry on their own species, let them go. We'll probably end up dying out not from a nuclear war or a zombie attack, but from pandas that we've bred in zoos and have decided to take over planet earth. Let them fight their own battle, OK?


Date Night
This week's date night consisted of picking up some Little Caesar's pizza (no, I'm with you, I am constantly amazed that this place exists, especially outside of a Walmart) and watching "How to Train Your Dragon." Might sound boring but it was perfect for me given how tired I was, even with the nap I took after work.  It did, I admit, feel a bit like I was just having a movie night with my roommate, but still, it was chill and I was happy and perfect for me, as I said.We did check out an Italian place Spectero told me about but it seemed a bit expensive, the ambiance was lacking, and it was BYOB. OK, BYOB is fine but the prices did not match the atmosphere. Still, I do want to check it out some time.

Other Stuff
I'll be volunteering at the library again, for my fourth time. I feel I need to put in extra time because my first time I did 1 hour and 45 minutes, the second time I did an hour twenty, and the third was only forty minutes because Spectero was going to get to the bar early and MY GOD I sweat a lot stocking shelves and dusting them so any excuse to get out. So I'll stay for at least an hour this time. Oh, and last time? I realized that I wasn't signing in properly. I put my name down, put what I did, when I signed in and when I signed out and how long that was but I didn't realize that the column to the far left that went from 1 to 31 meant the day of the month. So I adjusted my earlier entries, crossed out the original, and left a note that said "volunteers at a library but can't read" because I felt fucking stupid.

No real plans this weekend. The Bat will be preparing for next weekend for his annual party for Monkey's birthday. I need to catch up on some housework, tend to my gardens, read my borrowed library books, and maybe use up that $78 Macy's credit that I have. Because I'm extremely exciting like that. But it's a THREE DAY WEEKEND and I keep forgetting that so whoo hoo!

Finally
Oh, Texas. I know I bitch about your driving habits, the way you cut a bitch off left and right and how you can't keep your 18 wheelers upright. But do you know what I love about you with regards to traffic? The fact that people seem to really follow the rules about not crossing solid white lines. That and the fact that people create two lanes where there is really only one in the complex where I work. For some reason, that really tickles me. 

Wednesday Ramblings

It is Wednesday morning and I am the definition of tired. I told the Bat yesterday that we either needed to go to bed earlier or have less frequent sexy times. I went to bed at 9 and was asleep by 10. I know because that's when the Bat came in and woke my ass up. Now I'm so fucking tired that for date night tonight, I'd like to just go to sleep. 

I wrote a bunch of junk yesterday but it sucked so I deleted it (though I still think you should know that there was a woman in the elevator with a very sparkly, blue sequin top on - clearly she works in a funner environment than do I). Yesterday was packed. I was quite productive at work, then I volunteered at the library, and then I met up with Spectero, my new friend, at Salt Grass for girls' night. I got hella lost on my way there and was really embarrassed about that because dude, I used to live in that area. I had no clue that was where it was located. Choosing that restaurant was smart though, because the Bat and Monkey went to the sushi bar again last night and they showed up both Tuesday evenings that Spectero and I were having girls' night there. It isn't that I don't want them around because I'm trash talking them, it just seems weird. Especially since the Bat is the one who pushed me to have friends. Now I feel like I can't meet up there with a friend without my roommates turning up and that's a bummer. But I can't exactly ask them to refrain from patronizing the place since they've been going there for four years. 

Spectero arrived before me, carrying a jade plant. The bartenders side eyed her but it was my idea. I told her to bring a plant and I'd wear my gold medal from when I was in the 8th grade. And I wore the shit out of it. I told her at one point that I liked the idea that people might think we were sisters and she was taking me out to celebrate having received a medal. Why not? It's not like anyone looked at it so how would they know it said something about Delaware Creative Competition? And it only says 1995 on the back of it so you'd have to get pretty up close and personal with me to know I won it when I was 14. She even gave me the plant after we'd finished boozing and eating all the food that wouldn't have been so bad for us had it not all been fried and/or wrapped in bacon. 

And now here I am, sitting in my death cubicle, hoping I don't fall asleep and that this coffee kicks in so I don't have to take a pill (prescribed to me, not something I bought off a guy in an ally way). I'd much rather be at home snuggling. Since I can't do that, I actually wish for once that I didn't have any projects to work on so that I could just zone out in my cube. But oh no, today one of my managers just sent me and a colleague more work on top of the other projects she gave me. Usually I'd be stoked but I'm having to peel my eyes apart at the moment so I just want to zone out and read things on the internet. 

I couldn't find either pair of glasses this morning (one was in my briefcase). 

I was the first person at the deli downstairs this morning. I'm always pleased when I get a receipt that says 001, telling me I was first. I don't know why that is.

When I got in the elevator I apparently didn't hit 3 hard enough because it skipped my floor so I had to walk down two flights of stairs to get to my department.

Tonight is date night and unless my ass perks up, it's going to consist of ordering pizza, watching a movie or some shows on Netflix, my passing out on the couch, and the Bat attempting to get some off me while on the couch before Monkey gets home from church. 

I need a new car.

I miss living alone. 

I'm happy in my relationship and, in general, my household.

My cat is being a dick and shit right in front of her litter box yesterday. I better follow up about that appointment at the vet I tried to make for her. 

I don't understand how Scientologists can take that shit seriously when their founder was a writer of Science Fiction. I put that on Facebook yesterday when I was at the library because the shelves I was in the middle of dusting happened to contain a bunch of L. Ron Hubbard. How the fuck can you believe in a religion made up by a dude who writes Science Fiction? Not that Joseph Smith is a credible character either, but Scientology is just the weirdest and funniest. 

Dusting shelves in the Science Fiction section makes me want to try out some SF but I can't seem to bring myself to do so. 

I think the last movie I saw in a theatre was Argo, with Tits. 

This junk isn't much better than yesterday's and I didn't even mention my hundreds of mosquito bites. 

I'm going to go read Dear Abby and send a letter to my girl Birdy over in the Westerville office so we can discuss it. Dear Abby online has a comments section now so it's that much more awesome. 

Motivation

I am signed up to receive daily motivational emails because I'm trying to live peacefully and positively*. I think I signed up with two sites, actually. And you know what? Sometimes I get a quote that I really like and share with my friend, Tits, and other times I start to nod off mid paragraph. I evidently like my motivation and inspiration to come in snippet form. What does that say about me? That I'm highly unmotivated? How am I going to succeed in my life, reach that brass bar, and take life by the short hairs if I can't even get through four lines of inspiration?

"The primary cause of unhappiness is never the situation but your thoughts about it." ~ Eckhart Tolle

That's what I like in my daily motivational emails, not a seven line metaphor about how I need to steer my own battleship or whatever. And I almost never look up the person being quoted. That Eckhart Tolle blurb up there? That's legit, came from one of my daily emails, and is written on a post-it note on my computer monitor. I don't know who the hell Eckhart Tolle is. I don't even know how to pronounce that shit and in my head it is Eck-heart Toll (like toll booth) although I prefer it to sound like Esh-hurt Tolly.  I'm less concerned with the pronunciation of his name than I am with the fact that someone named their kid Eckhart. And I'm just assuming Eckhart is a man's name.

I think I may be doing inspirational wrong.

I'm also doing parts of adulthood wrong. I picked a name out of a book when I needed a specialist here in the state where the stars are big and bright. So far I have had very, very few positive experiences with the office staff. I had to call and ask about having my super special prescription called in because that didn't appear to be a given. And then I had to explain to the person who answered the phone that yes, I had spoken to the doctor about it and that yes, we were trying something new. Eventually, they called it in. Today I called to say "What's up? I totes called last month to have my prescription called in but now I found out my insurance won't cover it and so I need something else." The jerk literally made me hold while she did whatever and came back and said "I'm sorry, there is no generic version of this drug." No shit, bitch! Maybe, instead of making an assumption and putting me the fuck on hold, you should have asked me what the issue was because my health insurance covers the god damned drug, just not in the dosage that had been prescribed.

She's going to check with the doc and get back to me. At the time of this writing, it has been 3.5 hours since I called.

And like I said, most of my experiences with this place have been negative but I'm too lazy to find a new specialist, even though this one is on the outer tier of my health plan's happiness or whatever and so costs me the biggest copay. But I'm all "meh, I have FSA" and just keep going instead of finding myself a nice university hospital based specialist.

Speaking of being an adult, I call bullshit. I'm essentially 33.5 years old but every so often, stupid teenage shit pops up. Not angsty shit or petty girlfriend fights or anything like that. No, these days it is all about being B-O-R-E-D. Read a book? I don't want to (and you know I like to read). Go for a walk? Fuck you and the giant swarm of mosquitoes you rode in on (especially the ones that are gnawing on me like I'm made out of sugar.) Why is it that everything costs so god damned much? What is there to do? I live in a real state with a real big city just a few miles away but every so often I get stuck in a rut where I want to go and do something but all I can think of are the following:

• Go out to eat. Money
• Go get a drink. Money
• Go buy shit. Money.
• Put on my big girl brass balls and drive to the city to go to a museum or something. Money + the terror of driving in a city (any city) + no one to go with me for company/moral support as I'm sure the Bat would fucking laugh at me if I suggested it.
• Go to the movies. Money. Besides, who wants to go sit through a movie in a theatre that is overpriced when you can just rent shit and watch it at home and take breaks to pee or smoke or whatever without missing anything? That and I have Netflix so I can just start binging on shows I've never seen before (like I did with Breaking Bad as soon as it fucking ended). 

That's all I can come up with. Tonight, I actually changed out of my work clothes (a dress) because I thought I'd maybe go chill at a bar across the street and write in my journal and work on this blog entry. But then I thought better of it (READ: couldn't justify the expense) so ended up going to the library to borrow some books (and pay the fine I knew I had [staggering buck forty]) and then went to Target where I picked up 1: a face mask, 2: a brush to brush Bubbles, and 3: a six pack of Shiner Bock because damn it, I'm tired of Miller Light. Then I came home, went to the bathroom, and asked the Bat if he had any bleach because last night Monkey tried to bath Temp, the newest doggy addition to the Bat Cave, and although the Monkey picked out the pieces of shit, that was it and I don't want to shower standing on skid marks (I'll still wear throw away sandals when I shower later though.). 

So what the fuck do grown ups who don't want to pay out the ass do for fun? Because my shit is lame right now. 

Probably because I'm not taking a good grip on the wheel of my battleship.

*I'll get back to you when I've decided if it's working... I think I've been signed up for this motivational shit for months now. 

Annoying Fleas and Cranky Pants

Things That Annoy Me at the Moment
Morning birds. Morning birds need to shut the fuck up and go back to sleep until 10 a.m. in my opinion because they are never welcome in any situation. Camping? Those fuckers make sure I'm awake by dawn. Weekend? They start their twittering and chirping too damned early and I can't tune them out. Work week? It's as though they are mocking me with their happy chirruping as I stumble out to my car. I just hate those things so much right now.

My bra. It's black and strapless and I have to wear it inside out or else the cups sort of poke out and look ridiculous. It is not comfortable and it is a pain in the ass to put on and take off. But my only other strapless bra is a white-person-nude piece of shit that serves zero purpose as it provides no support and prevents zero nipple protection. I really need to get rid of both of these and buy proper ones. People talk about how we were supposed to have flying cars by this point in time but what bugs me is that we don't have those unisex jumpsuits yet because that would make my life so much easier.

Bubbles shat on my bed again, for no discernible reason. I'd just made the bed after lint rolling off all of her fur and then I had to wash two blankets and a set of sheets because she couldn't be bothered to use her litter box. I figured maybe she wanted a cleaner box so I cleaned it. When I came back to the room she was peeing on the fucking wall. She's acting like a little cunt lately and she has one more act of disobedience of cuntiness and I'm taking her to a no kill shelter.

Fleas
I've had animals pretty much my entire life. There is not a time since I became sentient that I can recall my mother not having a poodle in the house (standard, not tea cup) and Johan has been with me for the last 5 years, Bubbles for almost 1. Never have I experienced any fleas with any of these creatures. But last week Monkey found one on one of the dogs and so on Wednesday, the Bat flea bombed the house. The dogs were in the back yard and Bubbles was put in a dog cage in the greenhouse, with Johan's cage on top. When the Bat and I got back from date night, we sat in the greenhouse and let Bubbles out but made her wait 20 minutes before going back into the house to be on the safe side. Johan we let run around the entire time we were out there.

The next morning, I found that Bubbles had shit and thrown up on my bed to let me know she was none too pleased. On my way to work, the Bat called me to let me know that during his morning rounds, he brought Johan back inside because we'd left him in the greenhouse ALL NIGHT. I was horrified and felt just awful and went straight home after work to make sure he was properly taken care of and to throw my blanket/sheets into the washer. Johan didn't seem at all disturbed and has proven to be far more forgiving then his cunt of a sister.

Actually, you know what? I think my mother once told me that we did have fleas and they only seemed to bite Teacher, my middle brother. So my earlier statement was a lie. I am not to be trusted.

Anything Else
It's Monday. Bleh. I'd say Mondays are the worst but let's face it, if we had them off we'd bitch about Tuesdays. Well some people would, but not me. I'd just be stoked that we'd moved to a four day work week. So what did I do with my weekend? On Saturday we took the boat out for about 20 seconds before realizing that the water was too choppy. The Bat's youngest brother came with his family and the baby got hit with a wave of water and lost her shit (as I would have done in her position). The Bat gave Monkey a driving lesson after she asked if she could drive the boat. That went... well, OK, I guess. She wasn't pleased because it wasn't easy and her dad wouldn't let her just quit. (Remember that episode of the Simpsons where Homer asked Bart what happened or why he didn't do x and Bart said "I wasn't good at it right away and it was hard so I quit"? Yeah, I thought about that too). But eventually, towards the end when she got the hang of it a bit, it got better. The rest of the day was just lazy.

Yesterday I slept till about 8:30 and then made coffee and read a book (Meaty by Samantha Irby) for about an hour. Then the Bat came in and told me that he had everything set up for me to cut up the bad wood for trash. So I spent a minimum of two hours using a compound miter saw to cut wood into smaller pieces so that we can throw it away over the next few weeks. Because I am an indentured servant. I also made burgers. And fell asleep in my room watching a bunch of Miss Marple. Because I'm super young.

Here's hoping I enjoy this week and break out of my morning funk pretty soon. 

Crickets, Showers, & The Library

Showers Are For Jerks With Time
Yes, I know. But if any of you cared one of you would have at least watered my plants while I was away.

So what have I been up to? Not a whole lot. That's the explanation for the radio silence. I'm not a blogger, just a chick who writes on this blog. My life is exceedingly boring. Also, I just found the very best of all blogs called BitchesGottaEat and not only is she literally the funniest blogger I've ever read (I legit laugh my ass off out loud whilst reading), but I don't want to do that thing where you accidentally mimic someone's writing style because they are amazing and you are just you.

So, for the sake of a blog entry and to further shed light on my lameness, I'll offer you this:

I fell in the shower on Sunday. I don't know how it happened but it was epic and not only did I tear down the shower curtain, I also bruised the shit out of my upper right arm and somewhat busted my lip. The Bat keeps making comments about how people probably assume he hit me but let's be serious. If that motherfucker punched me in the mouth, I would have way more than this little scabby thing on my lip. Honestly, it looks like a cold sore, and that is what people assume it is. But tomorrow I'll wear short sleeves so people can see the huge bruise and then let people make of it what they will when I say "I fell".

I also skinned my left knee a little bit. I don't how I forgot about that seeing as I kept kneeling on it this afternoon (more on that later).

Did you know that I hate showering? No, I'm not filthy because I do take showers. I just hate doing it because even though mine last 5 minutes max, they feel endless because I have to wash my god damn hair and that takes forever afterwards. Have to have it up in a towel for at least 15 minutes before I can blow dry it (if I don't blow dry, I look worse than usual). And god help me if I put in the extra effort of using conditioner because I never know when that shit is out. I wash my face, shampoo my hair, then condition because I can only kind of tell that the conditioner is out after I've used soap because my litmus test is "does it feel slippery still?" Then the combing and blow drying that always takes way longer than it does when I get my hair cut at a "salon" where the "stylist" inevitably says "well your hair certainly dries quickly." No, bitch, it doesn't. And I've had it for 33 years and you've touched it once so there is no arguing with me.

I'm more of a bath person for several reasons.

1. As Winston Churchill once said (according to an episode of Seinfeld I saw when I was probably a teenager) "Why stand when one can sit?" 
2. It's nice to relax in a hot bath with Epsom salts and bubbles, reading a book, and drinking a glass (or bottle) of wine.
3. It is way easier to shave your legs when you take a bath because you sit and sweat for awhile and so when you put the shaving cream on your legs, no draft suddenly wafts in to raise up all your goose flesh. 
4. Did I mention reading? Reading in the tub is awesome.

I first started taking epic baths when I was married because J was ALWAYS home due to his work and I had zero alone time. So I would escape into the tub and read and shave and would literally be in there for an hour and would have to reup on the hot water 2 or 3 times. Now, I pretty much just sit for 15 minutes (unless the book is incredibly engrossing, I have some really good wine, and have nothing to do), shave my legs, wash mu'self, and get out. Sometimes, if I'm feeling economical, I will wash my hair and awkwardly rinse it under the tap. More often, I jump in the shower afterwards and undergo the trauma of washing my hair.

I could have left that whole last paragraph out. You now know way too much about my ablutions. But as I was talking about reading at one point, it is a nice segue into the next topic:

Having Fun Isn't Hard When You Have a Library Card
I started volunteering at my local library. It is something I've always wanted to do and even tried to do in Ohio, where I was rudely ignored. Last week I went in for orientation but did not start right away because I came after work and was in heals. Thus far, I have spent about 3 hours stocking shelves and dusting them. Because when I say I want to volunteer at a library, that is exactly what I want to do. No, I don't want to tutor people for GED because I'm a bad teacher and I don't remember that shit. No, I don't want to lead a children's reading group because little kids terrify me. No, I don't want to help in the computer lab because I'll just end up sweaty and in a panic because I don't know shit about computers or any of the programs you want to use. I literally just want to plug my iPod in and push the cart around, stocking shelves and getting used to where things are.

It's awesome and peaceful and, to be honest, slightly nerve wracking. I'm fine with Adult Fiction, Mystery, Romance (dude, people borrow a LOT of Romance), Young Adult, Western, Large Print, and Graphic Novels/Manga. But then there are the books in Spanish and Non-Fiction/Reference, and Spanish Fiction and Non-Fiction/Reference that I had to deal with today and I wanted to shit myself right then and there when there was a woman in the area of Reference (en anglaise) where I needed to be. But I figured it out, and felt like a total badass when I was done. Full disclosure: I have yet to dip my toe into beginning readers and children because that shit is terrifying and so out of order.

Then I dusted some shelves. I have a system you know. I started in Science Fiction because that seemed the dustiest and I did four shelves the first time and two shelves today. Remember how I told you I'd tell you more about my skinned knee? Yeah, between stocking books and dusting shelves, I ground that shit into the floor numerous times. That is part of the reason I only finished that one stack of shelves and didn't start another. The other is that when I did the last one, I literally put the books back in the wrong fucking order and had to take them all off, think about it a whole lot, and put them back.

You know what is really weird about this? As soon as I start stocking shelves, I fucking forget my ABC's and have to mentally say "L, M, N, O" so I can remember which comes where. It's like I'm suddenly paralyzed and can't read or make out letters and I get really nervous that I'm going to put the book in the wrong place by one or two volumes and then the head stocker is going to yell at me and I'll never be allowed back. I think I should probably take a Klonopin before I go in next time.

The other really horrifying part is that there are some books I'd like to look for and check out but I'm paranoid because I think I probably owe some fines. Yeah, they may be a buck fifty but I don't have my wallet on me and would have to mumble, "oh, let me run out to my car real quick" and then stumble back in like a derelict who doesn't appreciate what the library does and pull up my hoodie over my head as I shame facedly pass over my bills.

But all in all, it's good and I enjoy it and plan on doing it on a regular basis, like Tuesdays and Thursdays.

There you have it. I'm old, I'm lame, and that is why I haven't blogged in awhile. Maybe next time I'll talk about my planned standing girls' nights and talk about my mother's visit if I haven't already. More than likely, I'll be away forever and come back and talk about how I'm lame and wow you with a wall of text about flossing or something.

Whatev, I don't make you read this shit.