*Big DumpTruck*

The Vacation Is Over

Okay, starting tomorrow, back to good posting. Back the the humor and insights you've grown accustomed to.

In the meantime, here's a game that will addict you like crack. You have been warned.

Happy Two Days After Thanksgiving!

Decided to take a little break from blogging. Don't know why, I could have described my meal in horrifyingly minute detail, but really, does anyone need to know about the depth of flavor of the chocolate cream pie? Well, even if you do, tough. That's too much like work.

I'm kind of bummed out because I'm not going to finish my NaNoWriMo novel. I just don't see it happening, so half of me thinks I should spend the next 36 hours typing non-stop, but I don't feel like doing that. But if I don't spend the next 36 hours typing non-stop, I won't hit 50,000. I know I've done it twice before, do I really need to do it again, am I trying to prove anything? It's 50,000 words of crap. Last year's was SO much better. I went off-track somewhere in the beginning of this one and my heart wasn't in it. So that's my whine of the day. Don't know what I'm going to do at this point. Check with me on December 1st.

Other than that...we've been low key here. I just need to get some relaxing in - I have realized that working as a contractor is great, except for the lack of vacation time. I simply cannot afford to lose a week's pay, so while I've had random days off, and some days of working at home, I've been working non-stop for six months now, and I've noticed I'm really in need of a bit of a break. Don't get me wrong, I love my work, I love where I'm working, and all I want for Christmas is an offer of a full-time job, but I'm happy either way, as long as they want to keep me.

Okay, time to figure out the plans for the rest of the day.

Holiday Snowglobe

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! Hope you have a relaxing day, no matter who you get stuck eating with. Here's a little something for you to use to take out your frustrations against [fill in relative's name]. The Holiday Snowglobe is great fun - make sure you have the sound on, and you let it just sit so you can watch all the interactions. I mean, when you're done shaking it.

Google Loves Me

I wrote something yesterday in my NaNoWriMo Blog that is already listed in Google if you search for scott baio's body double. That's right, number one hit for that search, baby!

Oy.

Free Marketing Advice

Dear Shaws,
Wow, you guys are having some week! Three different [local] people shopping at three different locations found black widow spiders in their red seedless grapes. Holy cow!

I love my local store, and I shop there 98% of the time. This morning, I actually thought to myself "I should go down and look through the grapes to see if I can find anything good in there" which is when I realized that you guys could really be cashing in on this, marketing-wise. If *I* was thinking of going spider-hunting, and I hate bugs, you know there are thousands of others thinking the same thing.

So here are two four marketing ideas for you, free, gratis. I mean, I'd take payment (use the paypal donation link over on the right) but that's up to you.

1. You know all those M&M promotions where they say if you find a bag of all gray (or whatever) you'll win some big prize? Tell everyone that the spiders were meant as prize markers - if you find one, you win a free shopping spree.

2. Advertise your grapes as coming with "a free pet for the kids". It's Christmas, and you were thinking of getting little Jimmy a puppy, right? But have you considered the mess and work involved with a puppy? Buy your red grapes at Shaws and receive a free Christmas Spider!

3. Set up a display of those bug catcher jars with the magnifying glass tops right next to the grapes.

4. Post ads specifically for "Spider Grapes" and say "Only available at Shaws for a limited time!" Maybe include some trumped-up story about how spider grapes are magic.

See where I'm going with this? I'm kind of disappointed that there weren't any spiders in the last batch of spider grapes I bought.

Pre-Pie Zone

You know how I feel about pie.

We are in the pre-pie zone, that time when the ingredients (or the pies themselves) are already bought, but you can't eat them because it isn't Thanksgiving yet. This is the worst time, really, because the pie is right there in front of you but so much as touching it will get your hands cut off by the Turkey Tribunal.

Oh, that reminds, me - hats off to Reuters for this beautiful Thanksgiving Week headline: "Nine Charged; Britain Warns of More Turkey Attacks." Now I don't know about you, but most people are sort of pre-occupied with Thursday's meal, and well, I thought they had arrested 9 turkeys for attacking. Hey, Britain was famous for mad mad cow disease, it's not impossible that they had some sort of turkey fever. You'd think the British turkeys would be happy that they're in a country that doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving. No need to attack there.

Oh. The story is about Turkey the country. Got it.

Back to not thinking about pie, then.

The Gimp

"Gimpy" is a word that isn't used all the much anymore. Is it because we've just moved past it, or is it politically incorrect? I would hate to offend the Bad-Legged-Americans out there by using an offensive word. I like "Gimpy" and I don't even know why.

So anyway, that's what I am today. Twisted my ankle a bit, and really, it's just one bit muscle pull down there. I'd never thought of a sprained ankle in those terms before, but that's what it feels like. Unless a sprain is something different. I've had some nasty sprains in my day. The worst one was the tragic "Duck, Duck, Goose" incident in the front yard when I was 10 or so. I just went down like a ton of bricks with no warning. The doctor told my mother I had "loose ligaments" which meant I was just a sprain waiting to happen. And sprain I did. The other worst one (cause I thought of it just now, and it was probably worse than the one mentioned above, but that one has a cooler name) was when I was 16, and I was running down the hill for the bus. Twisted that sucker and went sprawling. My books skidded down the hill in front of me. Now my mom never let us stay home for any reason, so I just limped down the rest of the way to the bus.

I was taking Driver's Ed at the time, and the usual schedule was to wait for my dad to pick me up on his way home from work, so that's about 5pm or later. So picture me, in horrible pain all day, having to sit there waiting for my father to arrive. By the time he got there my ankle was swollen to approximately 3 times its normal size and I couldn't put any weight on it at ALL. I mean, this was BAD.

To this day, my mother denies that she would have made me go to school if I'd actually turned around and gone home that morning, but how was I to know it was as bad as all that? What if it wasn't bad? It's not like she had a car at her disposal to take me to school if I missed the bus.

So where was I going with this? Oh, right. I have an ouchy foot today, and am walking with a noticeable limp. But I came in to work anyway cause I didn't want my mom to yell at me if I stayed home.

Did You Enjoy Your Day?

I hope you made good use of the day today. The weather wasn't as nice as yesterday, and yet it was lovely in its own way. All in all, I'm happy with what I got done this weekend. There's still some work left to do outside that I will get to this week, and of course I'd intended to do a lot more, but thinking back, the weather wasn't really my friend on the weekends this fall. So no, the fence isn't cleaned and stained. I guess that's the top of the Spring 2004 list then. I also have to get to the Odd Lots store to pick up my birdseed supply. I found the suet holder, and everything else is hanging empty on the pole. I'm going to miss my unemployed days when I could just sit in the window watching for the cardinals. But hey, having a steady income has its good points too, right?

I have my hands bound up with duct tape to prevent me from turning on the Christmas lights outside so I can enjoy my handiwork, but in this family, we try to wait until at least Thanksgiving night. So I'm behaving myself. But the duct tape is starting to chafe, and I'm having a flashback to the whole CSI: Miami thing from the other day, trying to type without the use of my hands.

"My Country Tis"

Today was "decorate the house with Christmas lights day." Was it that day for you too? I think the high temperature hit nearly 60 degrees, so you can imagine we were looking for any excuse to play outside. After swimming Junior spent some time playing with his cousins at my mom's house before we all had lunch at Burger King. Then Junior and I went to buy this year's lights. I know they are reusable, but before you say anything, I leave them up until spring and by then, especially after last year's winter, all the color was worn off the bulbs. Useless to me, you see.

I let Junior pick this year's color scheme, and God Bless his soul, he likes blue lights. I love blue lights outside...just think they look awesome. I could never get Mr. Dump to do blue lights - he actually wanted us to do white lights (which just doesn't scream "Christmas" to me, and I want my house screaming, baby.) Over the years I settled for red outside, and eventually got my way with multi-colored. But Junior said blue so we looked for blue. Then he said he wanted red too. We have two bushes on each side of the front steps, so that works out. Well, funny thing - I've been in this house for nine and a half years, and this is the first year that the shrubs are so big that one string of lights wasn't enough. So we had to go back to the store, and I decided to splurge on one of those white deer with the head that goes up and down because Mr. Dump always wanted one, and they were always too expensive. Well, Brooks had them for $18.88! I can do that!

The thing is, the way I decorated the front, it's, well, patriotic. I didn't mean to do it that way. Junior said he wanted the red closest to the house, and I did that, but the spot where the deer worked the best meant that it's now red, white and blue, in that order.

Well, you know, whether or not I support what we're doing in Iraq, I DO support the people who are over there, and I know this is the worst time of year. So let's just say that I did my decorating that way on purpose, shall we? (Now I just have to keep myself from flipping the lights on between now and Thanksgiving, when I generally start with that stuff. I love the holidays!)

Oh, you're probably wondering about this post title, huh? Junior came home from school about a month ago and told me he'd learned a new song, called "My Country Tis". That's way too cute for me to correct him. Oh, and he does a stellar job singing it, if I can brag for a moment.

I've Got the Shakes

I've gone about 7 hours now without any Michael Jackson news, and I'm really getting the DTs, man. I was starting to feel like there were bugs crawling on me, nibbling at my nose and turning my skin white!

It's horrible, I tell you. And there's only one cure: more, pictures of him leaving the police station, stat!

It's Alive!

I realized you might be concerned that the "dead person on the keyboard" experiment was actually the real thing, and like Bill, be tempted to call 911. I want to tell you all to rest easy, that just because we're in the middle of another of those magnetic solar hurricanes, all is well in the Big DumpTruck Garage.

I do plan to keep an eye out for those cool aurora borealis sunsets these things cause. I don't have my camera with me, which is extra stinky, but what are you going to do?

I do want to give a happy hello to all the visitors coming in from thyroid.about.com today. Mary runs my Thanksgiving article every, uh, Thanksgiving, and I always meet the nicest people after it runs! My thyroid is doing well, considering it's attached to me. It's been, um, three or four years since I first wrote that, and I'm doing well, thank you. Still have my tired days, still live in piles of clutter and plastic storage bins, but doing well.

So Let's Try It.

Now that I'm home, I am going to attempt to put my face on my keyboard as if I'm dead. I should point out that on the commercial, it was a regular keyboard, and this computer is a laptop.

jiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiijjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjju444444

See, that last bit is when my head rolled to the side because gravity just isn't going to let you balance your nose on one key when you're dead.

Okay, so thanks for playing Criminology At Home!"

Boink

That's the sound of my head hitting the keyboard. I'm just plain old tired today. I think I slept well, but I wasn't awake so I'm not sure.

I saw a commercial for CSI Miami (I think) where a guy died with his nose on the J key, so they could determine the time of death by how many pages of Js there were. Which is clever, and yet, I think it's possible that the application would kind of max-out on you. Let's assume it was Word. Well you know that after even a few hours of just entering the letter J, with no spaces or any other kinds of breaks, that at some point it's going to barf on you. They'll be a memory issue, or something. I know that the fact that there's no break has to make it unhappy, never mind the constant entry making it impossible for the app to do any kind of auto-saving without turning into mush. So I'm not saying it's not possible, but I am saying that having sold, supported, owned and worked with computers since the mid-80s, I think there's a pretty good chance that 8 hours of typing the letter J is going to eventually overflow one buffer or another. Maybe I should have watched the show to find out how they worked it out.

Okay, I was going to conduct a test of my theory, but I couldn't play dead and get my nose to stay on the J without my head hitting some other keys at the same time. And the people working around me are going to start asking if I'm okay.

Roof Fixed

The patching, she is done. This is a good thing, because I just read on Yahoo Weather that my area could get up to 3.5 inches of rain by tomorrow morning.

Yikes. Thank God it isn't snow, but still...

No Room At This Inn

By the time I finish writing this, it's possible that Michael Jackson, that perfectly normal, boring "King of Pop" will be in police custody. Again. Forget Iraq, this is shock and awe, baby.

Okay, maybe not. I thought he should have had his butt tossed in jail for good the LAST time we were forced to listen to newscasts about his man-stick having "distinctive markings". Please God, spare us those kinds of details when it comes to this humanoid.

I swear to God, I have never ever seen a bigger bunch of people in denial than his supporters, unless it's the worthless parents who let their sons hang around with this pervert.

Being talented shouldn't give you a free ride. Being rich shouldn't either. But apparently fame and fortune have blinded people so much that they'd sacrifice their children with a "oh, he's just misunderstood. He's a sensitive soul." Well he's a sensitive soul with a preference for pre-pubescent boys. If a guy who looked and acted like MJ lived across the street from you, you'd never let your kids play out in the front yard unsupervised. Face it.

Anyone can "seem" like a really nice guy, but in the meantime, when you aren't there watching, he could be doing coke, beating his children and cheating at Scrabble. Oh, so just because he never did this stuff in front of you it never happened? He's a great guy so his kids must be lying?

We won't even get into the story about that couple who fed their daughters and natural son but fed their foster sons pancake batter and nothing else. Oh, the 16 year old only weighs 40 pounds and hasn't been to the doctor in over four years? All the kids weigh less than half of what they should even at the low end of the scale? They've all got stunted growth? Well, see, the KIDS have eating problems. This is from their Church pastor! Can't be that the foster parents are evil spawns of Satan who got off on not feeding four innocent children (who didn't have the strength to pull a trash barrel on wheels from the house to the street without stopping to take a rest). Funny how this was JUST the foster sons, who came from different families, but apparently all have the same eating disorders. I didn't realize being systematically starved to death was considered an eating disorder.

Do I sound bitter? I am. As the mother of an almost six-year-old son, I'm furious that people like these are allowed to walk the streets because they seem nice. And now I can't wait to see the hysterical fans of Michael defending him because he's "misunderstood." Let me just say that YOU, dear fan, are the one who misunderstood.

150 Buckaroonies

That's the high-end estimate for patching the roof. The roofer mentioned that the builder should have put that black felt-stuff up on the roof first, which would have helped keep them in place. He also noticed that where there should have been tar on the back side of the shingle I found, there was none. Which may mean that the roofers who did the house in the first place didn't do great work. Super.

He also said he's done a few houses in this development already, which makes me feel like calling the builder to let him know. Not that I expect him to do anything, I'm not stupid, but it would probably be in his best interest to not use those roofers on any of his other projects.

Anyway, they are 25 year shingles, which is good to know, but I hate to think I got 25 year shingles and a ten year roofing job.

Miffy: The Aftermath

Okay, Miffy got the last laugh on me. Fine, Miffy. You win. Forget the rootbeer, forget the Tostitos (if THAT were at all possible). But forget all the teasing and snacking, because what it all comes down to is something horrible and terribly painful to me: Miffy cost me money.

You see, Saturday morning when I woke up I saw something odd in the back yard, so I wandered out there to check things out. And to my utter woe, I realized it was a shingle from my roof. Miffy ripped a couple of them off the roof, front and center where it was pretty noticeable. Which means I need to actually find someone to fix the problem and then PAY them because quite frankly, I'm not up to roof repair. Of course rain is predicted all week and you can actually see wood where the shingles are gone, so I cannot even put it off for a few days. Ratzen Fratzen windstorm.

Miffy, I hate you.

Loud Enough to Make Your Ears Bleed

Remember the scene in High Anxiety where Dick Van Patton's character is killed by being trapped in a car with a very loud radio? His ear drums apparently burst and we know he's dead because there's a little trickle of blood coming out of one ear. Getting beyond the "is it possible for a standard-issue 1970's car radio with speakers in the dashboard [only] to get loud enough to cause damage, because, after all that was the point of the scene, I'm wondering if I was taking my life in my hands on the way to work today.

You see, I have the latest Josh Groban CD and I had it turned up to window-rattling levels - which for a vocalist is probably not as much a threat as say, Megadeath. Or any of those banks with the screaming lead singers. Or maybe Sousa marches (my dad had an album called "Brass Band Bash" and it was my sister's favorite album for quite a while. I need to remember to tell her kids that in a few years.).

Anyway, I survived the ride in, and I'm happy to tell you, there was no ear bleedage. Run out and get the new CD, by the way. More good stuff.

Leggo My Lego

Guess what they have at the Solomon Pond Mall in Northboro? A Lego Store. Guess who had to restrict herself to ONLY buying one of the small containers from the "fill it from the bins" section?

Oh good gravy, the colors! To DIE for!

Bottles of Water

I don't care what anyone says, I like Poland Spring bottled water better than any other bottled water. Now me saying that means they will change it, or go out of business or something. I hope that doesn't happen, but I am the Grim Reaper of all consumer products.

I'm supposed to catch up by writing 7000 words this weekend. Oh, right, THAT'S going to happen. Look, I'm busy refereeing my step children and my son and writing entries in my blog. We had lunch in, so for a big treat we're having Wendy's. Oh, boy, I must have been a good girl in a previous life.

So, You Wish This Site Was a Movie Character?

Wow, I was going to just post a link, but there's a commercial on right now to try to convince people that they can make money raising alpacas. I had no idea it was that lucrative. Go to ilovealpacas.com for more info. (I'm not building the link, because I don't want them to know I'm talking about them. Those alpacas are mean and they spit, you know? I don't need that.)

Oh, so go to this site, Astonishingtales.com and read a wonderful screenplay featuring The Big DumpTruck as a character. If it doesn't work right, just plug in the url.

Miffy, Day Two

Okay, all modesty aside, check out this Boston Globe article where they actually say"Robert Skilling, the observer in charge yesterday, said winds were peaking between 50 and 52 miles per hour atop the 635-foot hill as the barometric pressure dropped to near-hurricane levels."

Near-hurricane levels. Read that again to yourself. Okay, now, let me explain that a typhoon is a "western North Pacific hurricane." Granted it didn't meet the sustained winds required to be fully called a hurricane (74mph), but still, I think you can nod your head and say "well, she isn't entirely crazy". I passed 10 utility trucks on 495 south this morning. I didn't recognize the name of the company (which I promptly forgot) but I got the feeling they were like the contract utility companies who come down from Canada to help out whenever there's a bad storm.

So technically, I was NOT all that far off naming this puppy. You may bow down at my feet and leave me offerings of snackfoods and health and beauty aids.

Chapter 3 - With the Wind Comes...Snow?

My wind-whipped soul is in shock: I swear I saw snowflakes. No, really. Curse you, Miffy!! You mock me, and then you laugh your cold, whistling laugh. But we will perservere. I just hope that the trees stay intact through this one. I was standing on the deck a moment ago and decided I would be better off behind the protective barrier of the slider. Man, that is some loud wind. Could you pipe down out there? I'm trying to write a novel!

The drive home was relatively uneventful; no top-heavy vehicles were pushed over, if that's what you consider an event. You have failed, Miffy!

Now that I'm home and can hear the wind, I can hear the wind. When at work I am pretty insulated from nature, good and bad. So far we still have electricity and drinking water. I laugh at you, Typhoon Miffy! Actually, I don't know how the satellite dish is fairing, because we aren't watching television. Gamecube is the mind-numbing activity of choice this evening.

I'm going to start rationing the rootbeer and Tostitos. I hear this is going to last all night.

Chapter 2 - Still the Calm Before the Storm

I have looked Miffy in the eye and...well, okay, I didn't look Miffy in the eye. I'll admit it. She's a wiley foe, hiding the way she is, waiting to pounce. There's a breeze, but no 40mph sustained winds...yet.

I have chosen an apple turnover to fuel me this morning, to give me the energy I need to survive Typhoon Miffy. And my eleven o'clock project meeting. There was no time to go to the store and buy water and bread, so I will just have to pray that I don't get a hankering for cinnamon toast and tea. Oh the humanity!

Typhoon Miffy Update - the morning

Doesn't seem so bad out. A little wet. Cool breezes. Nothing bad - is this the calm before the storm?

We are stocked up with cans of rootbeer and leftover Halloween Candy. Bring it on, Mother Nature!

They're Talking About Me Again

You know, for someone who is talked about in college classes as the epitome of mundane, I get very little traffic from it. Don't more people want to see how I am of little interest to scholars who would look for resistance and transgression in either the text (Fiske) or the medium (Mele)? (scroll to bottom) Whatever the hell that means. I'm sure that the fact that I'm talking about being talked about is going to throw a whole monkey wrench into the goodly professor's Week 10 lecture on The Big DumpTruck!

It's a good thing I like my website, or reading about myself this way would cause me to cry and eat Tostitos. (Oh, wait, does the professor want me to link out to Tostitos? Or maybe to a place on Amazon where you can buy them?)

At some point, someone is going to ask me about all these things, so that instead of listening to that Atton punk (who didn't have the decency to verify some of the stuff he wrote, and was forced to include a postscript clarifying at least one point) they could ask me in person, "If you were a tree, what kind of tree would you be?"

I Have Not forsaken You

This concludes our test of the Emergency No Update System...

Look, I'm just going to pretend that people cared at all that I didn't post yesterday. It was a full day, top to bottom, and the blog got pushed waaaaay down on the list. I mean, I had to take Junior bowling, people!

We're gearing up here for Typhoon, er, "Miffy". Hey, it's my typhoon, I get to name it. Okay, so the National Weather Service just says it's going to be really windy - but 60mph gusts and 30mph sustained winds deserve some kind of name, don't you think? So I declare tomorrow Typhoon Miffy day. And don't bother calling and writing to tell me that to be a Typhoon the storm needs winds to be n mph. I'm in charge, do you hear me!?

When a storm like Miffy comes along this late in the season, it has a cool sound all its own. Mostly because there are no leaves on the trees to break the wind (heh) but also because I have a lot of trees close together and they're going to sound like one of those wooden windchimes. I'm just hoping that the lack of leaves means I won't lose any trees (or parts of trees, as was the case during the last windstorm).

I'll keep the Miffy Updates coming...

Wow, That's Some Hit Count!

Noticed a bunch of traffic coming from one of my other pages, so I thought to myself "Self, there are a bunch of people off reading that page - you should see how many."

Sometimes, you think your eyes are playing tricks on you. And sometimes they aren't, and you've really had 7000+ people reading the List of People With A First Name for a Last Name in the past two days, because collegehumor.com linked to me.

Now more people should be clicking back to read THIS page, but for the few of you who have - I just want to say thank you, and take your shoes off before you track mud all over my kitchen floor. And don't leave your empties on the coffee table! Sheesh, college kids these days!

p.s. For those of you who normally get thousands of hits a day without even trying, please, don't tell me about it or I'll cry. I'm fragile that way. And my NaNoWriMo novel will under up being a dark and depressing thing, as opposed to the goofy novel I was hoping to write.

Flu-Be-Gone

No, I don't have the Flu, but thanks to the free flu shots they're handing out like candy here at work today, I'm hoping to avoid it altogether this year.

The only thing that bothered me was that when it was my turn, the first thing the nurse said was "You're already pale," meaning, I guess, that some people get pale at the thought of a shot, but I arrived looking like the Ghost of Christmas Past.

I'm not afraid of shots, or blood draws. I'm hypothyroid, I get my blood drawn 4 times a year or so. I mean, it's not that. So I'm so pale that she had to comment on it? Wrong thing to say to a hypochondriac, of course. Now I'm just going to wonder if I'm coming down with something. Or near death. Or dead and but I don't know I'm dead, like that movie that I won't name so I can't be blamed for spoiling it for folks who haven't rented the movie. Even though they've had plenty of time, thank you.

I think that's it from here. Other than wondering about the weather bricklet on my work homepage that shows trees being blown sideways for Friday. I can honestly say, since starting here in June, I've never seen the trees blowing sideways icon. I can only assume it means a typhoon is headed this way.

Ice, Ice, Baby

Gah. Cold. Cold bad. Cold hurt Jody. Jody hate cold. Brrrr. Cold.

See what happens when I have to go outside in early November and it's only 20 degrees out? Brain cells DIE, people.

It's time to ask Santa for some Land's End gift certificates so I can get that coat that's rated to like twenty below zero.

Goodnight Moon!

I was thinking I should have taken a good picture of the moon tonight, it all its eclipsed glory, but it's actually hard to photograph the moon, given that it's a light source (even in an eclipse) against dark everything. I don't have the right kind of camera or tripod setup to do that. So I'll just say I'd really pretty, and you'll have to fill in the blanks with the photos that will inevitably appear in the paper tomorrow. (I know *I* will be shocked if one of the 4 papers I regularly see on newsstands doesn't have one on above the fold.)

I had something brilliant I was going to say here, but in between the time it took me to fire up the Blogger Pro page, create the post, and write the above paragraph, I lost it. So here are a few other things that I'll share with you while I try to remember.

1. I didn't write a word of the novel today. I'm so mad at myself, because I actually stayed up last night and caught up to where my word count was supposed to be. And now I'm going to be 1666 words behind again, if I don't get going. And I feel like going to bed early.

2. Adam West did the voice of "Catman" on The Fairly Oddparents last night and it ROCKED. He is just the best. I don't want to ever hear anyone say another bad word about him. Ever.

3. I did a teeny bit of shopping today. I heard that Zito and Jen from WXLO were going to be at the Paper Store in Leominster, and I figured this was a chance I couldn't pass up. I actually was mostly hoping Jen would have The Colonel with her, because he looks so cute in the pictures on the radio station's website. And he WAS CUTE! I'm really glad I went, because I got to see the baby, got to meet both of them and Peterman (what the heck happened to his Friday bits? Did Mr. Movie Phone totally replace him? I want him back.) I didn't win any prizes, which stinks, but I got a fridge magnet, and you can never have too many of those. Plus I spent money on Christmas stuff, which is always good. Oh, and I got to tell Zito and Jen that I think they need to play less music and do more talking. I don't tune in for music. If I want music I'll play a CD. I want to be amused - it's the only thing that makes being a commuter bearable, quite frankly. But I don't think they have any say in it. Anyway, if you guys are reading this, it was really cool meeting you!

Where Are the Volunteers?

Boy, my post about de-cluttering got more comments than anything else I've posted recently, although I notice nobody volunteered to come and clean for me. This tells me two things.

1. You guys are concerned that we live like those people who you read about because after they died 35 years' worth of newspapers, magazines, trash and cats were found covering every free surface, so that entire rooms were blocked off. It's not quite that bad. We don't have any cats.

2. People are actually reading my site.

Both things warm the cockles of my heart. And I'll have you know, the cockles of my heart needed warming. (The ADD side of me wants to go off and conduct a half-hour internet search to figure out exactly what cockles are, why they are in your heart, and if they need warming)

Oh, ADD-girl won! Cockles appear to be Mollusks, "Corculum Cardissa". Here's a great explaination on possible sources for this phrase. I think I can carry on now, you little ventricle-warmers, you!

Clutter

Okay, if I say it here publically, will it make me work on it this weekend? I've got to do some decluttering of the kitchen and my bedroom. I have all the summer clothes lying out, waiting to be put away, but I don't have anything to put them in. I need to do something with them, even if it's to shove them in a garbage bag under the bed. Which is a whole different level of clutter, but out of sight, out of mind.

So on Monday, feel free to harrass me if I haven't worked on this.

Fun in NaNo Land

Don't forget to read the NaNo Journal to read all about my novel-writing adventures. Today we talk about the crap that ends up on the page when you practice "sleep writing", in which you bring the notebook computer to bed, and then start falling asleep (eyes closed) while you type.

It's fun for the whole family!

Stone: Worst Album Covers Ever

This is the best laugh I've gotten all day. A Lileks-esque take on album covers. When you look at these, think carefully to yourself, Someone, somewhere, thought this was a good idea.

[Update: This is the page those came from and plenty more! I'm a happy girl. Of course, it's keeping me from making my word count today.]

Does She Still Have Braces?

Saw a Reuters' headline that Sister Sledge Visited the UK Parliament to talk against guns, or something like that. I just skimmed the article. But my God, Sister Sledge in the headlines? Aren't they more like "Grandma Sledge"? And the cute little lead singer, does she still have braces? Because I think that was a large part of the group's appeal.

I know that people dump on celebs for getting political; I personally don't see what the big deal is. It seems to me that the problem people have is not that the celebs are political, but that the press picks up on it and splashes their faces and the stories across the newspaper.

Anyway, I've got to say that putting Sister Sledge in the headlines, for whatever reason, is absolutely mind-boggling. Who at Reuters decided that we even care?

Vote Them The Heck Out

I voted today. I wasn't going to bother, because there wasn't anything on the Leominster ballot that needed my immediate attention. The mayor was running unopposed, so as long as he voted for himself, he'd be in. I like the mayor. I'm not a fool, I disagree with him in some areas, but I like him, and I voted for him.

What I decided to do, based on just being totally fed up with the Bozos on the city council, is to go vote specifically for anyone who wasn't an incumbent. I am so completely fed up with our city's stupid pre-school antics - hey, Ginny Tocci, very mature making faces during the meeting when people don't vote the way you want them to - that I want them all out, lock, stock and barrel. Pack your things, don't let the door hit you on the way out. Of course, the person I most want OFF THE CITY COUNCIL isn't stupid, that person doesn't run for an at-large position because then the whole city would have a chance to VOTE THEM OFF THE CITY COUNCIL. If you're from here, and you're reading this, you know who I'm talking about. Brilliant how that person just runs for ward counselor, and the idiots who live in that ward don't care enough about the city to vote that self-important, megalomaniacal creature out.

So if all works out the way I want it to, we start with a clean slate tomorrow. I know it won't happen, but I can dream.

What Day Is It?

I was thinking it might be Wednesday, but now I'm pretty sure it's Tuesday. I can't go by my watch because the date function has to be updated by hand on an almost daily basis. My God, Timex, what the hell were you thinking? I believe I've talked about this before, but this is the watch with the freakish calendar that doesn't roll over from 31 to 1, but 32, 33...39, 00 (!) and then 01. So every month, even those with 31 days, I have to reset the date. And it seems to me that the date function isn't tied to that whole midnight to midnight thing, because every morning I find myself resetting it, regardless of how hard I try to tell the watch "this is 6:30 AM, not PM" when I set it.

I think I need to contact Timex. Or else buy a different watch. But I've only had this one for 8 months or so, and I don't feel like spending the money when this one SHOULD work. Whew. Thank you for letting me vent. I feel better already.

Oh, and I want to offer a public belated happy birthday to my Aunt Barbara, because I'm a dope and forgot to call or email her on the actual day. I made a big deal telling Junior that her birthday was on Halloween, and then we just never followed up. So Happy Birthday, Aunt Barbara!

Good Gravy

I threw my Josh Groban in the CD player (again) and I've got alla luce del sole blasting in my ears; I've just decided I don't care how young he is, I'm willing to be his romantic interest forever and ever. I mean, if he'll just sing that song to me and only me once a day, I'll die a happy woman.

I say all this because I had a dream the other night that he was in concert in Fitchburg and I had tickets but I forgot to go and I could actually hear him singing from my parent's house and I was devastated because I had always wanted to see him. And then we raced to the church basement where he was performing (hey, it was a dream) and we got to sit in the front row. Ahhhhhhhh. When I woke up I was sad at first, because it was just a dream, but then I did the "Oh, hey, I have seen him in concert!" thing. Not in the front row, but pretty close.

How can his voice sound like that? My goodness, he could be singing "You are the turd that floats in the sewer of my life" and as long as it was in Italian sung in that amazing voice of his, it would be the love song for the ages. Oh ya, I am so ready to get his new CD when it comes out, this month I think.

Dessert

I can't say for sure exactly what dessert will be today, but I can tell you that it will be "Fun Size®". I think everything should be called Fun Size. I certainly think I should be called Fun Size.

I dressed up, kind of, on Friday. I had a wig, a great witch hat and a cape. What I really needed was some good makeup, you know, black lipstick, the works, but I couldn't find my black lipstick. It wasn't in the box with all the other Halloween items. I can't begin to tell you where I might have stored it, if it wasn't in that box. I mean, did I put it somewhere else thinking "I might need to wear this again soon"?

There are no pictures of me, which is okay, really. I promise I'll post a page with the pictures of the decorations my sister's family pulled together. Awe-inspiring.

In the meantime, I think we're going to go with the Fun Size Peanut M&Ms. It's not flan, but then again, what is?

Polite Little Man

Junior is practicing his good manners on me because we're going to my friend's house for a visit this afternoon. "Can I get you a drink of water?" Oh my God, is he ever cute. He's even practicing his polite conversation. "So, are you in first grade now?"

It is SO HARD to keep from laughing.

Bagel Day

Yum! Starting the day with Bagel Inn bagels, I know for sure it's going to be a good day! I think I'm going for a cinnamon raisen, but I may change my mind when I see what they have. Plain (lite) cream cheese. You think that will help me focus on my novel today? Doubt it, but I'm sure anything I do write is going to be better than average. Cream cheese does that to you.

God is Laughing at Me

He knows today's the day I start my NaNo Novel, so he arranged for it to be 74 degrees outside.

I hate when I get behind on my word count the very first day.