In Coffee Spoons

As Kairi pointed out, the longer you put off making your big "This is what's been going on" journal update, the harder it gets. Rambling ho!

School is going...well, it's going. Just a few more weeks left and then I can start worrying about fall semester, which I have to cram a lot of credits into. At least I will no longer be laboring under a flaky teacher whose typos skew the entire course, or a flaky teacher who signs all her correspondence "Peace, love and laughter".

Redoing the outside of the house is pretty much finished. I believe. I hope. I sincerely hope. Looks good. Pics forthcoming.

Went to Mackinac with Mom and Erin, pics also forthcoming. Three guys sitting behind us on the ferry were doing the boat song, so that was stuck in my head all day. We went for the Lilac Festival, but the problem with planning a festival around nature is that nature does not always get the memo. It's been a terrible year for lilacs everywhere. Good times were had anyway. Horses, sunshine, seaside, ice cream, ridiculously expensive gift shops, good times.

Ashley and I both celebrated 25 years without fatal accidents!

( tastypics )

My fancy-ass camera makes me look like a much better photographer than I am sometimes.

Holly and I are planning a kickass party for the 4th and if you're reading this, chances are pretty damn good you're invited. As kickass as this party is going to be (it is going to be kickass), I'm really just excited to be celebrating Independence Day for the first time since I was a kid. I actually feel patriotic. Not ironically or post 9-11 bandwagony, but genuinely thrilled to see an amazing president turning our country around and making it into something to be proud of again. (President Obama, you are so invited to our party.)

Ummmmmmmm um um. That might be it. For now. I've been reading a lot but I'll save that list for its own entry. I have a lot of random pictures to post. And some memes. Later. Woo.

</rambling>

Birthday party is tomorrow.

Birthday cake was picked up today.

I am being Patient And Good.

Like this, but more pathetic. A lot more pathetic.

Typos.

TYPOS.

Oh wait, typos in my favour.

I've emailed her regarding the ones that have actually affected my grade. I refrained from pointing out how many times our textbook stresses the importance of accuracy.

Because, you know, it's only medical data entry.

It's not like what goes in a patient's health records has to be exact.

Not at all.

Assignment: Write about a memorable childhood event.

Here's my list of possible topics so far.

• The Great Potater Incident
  
  
• The Great Tomater Incident
  
  
• The Peanut Stuck Up My Nose
  
  
• The Day I Killed Tommy
  
  
• The Clown Who Molestered Me
  
  
• Too Many Hot Dogs
  
  
• When Momma Birthed the Halfbreed
  
  
• Daddy Became A Woman
  
  
• The Day We Shot JFK
  
  
• Taking The Entire Fist
  
  
• Killing My First Thai Hooker
  
  
• When the Dead Walked the Earth
  

Now accepting votes, alternate suggestions, and moral outrage.

Erin and I hit the Memorial weekend garage sales on Sunday.

I love the things you know you will see every time you go to garage sales. The porcelain and silver stuff that looks old and valuable, but never turns out to be. A blue tarp with rusty old machine parts spread over it. Retro kitchen appliances besides their retro boxes with their white plastic all yellowed. Cardboard boxes full of identical-looking Harlequin romance novels. A little table of things covered in crochet cosies, like tissue boxes and candle holders. The NASCAR beer steins and chipped coffee mugs with witty little gems like "Life's a beach". A sad jumble of crappy toys, about half from the Happy Meals of your childhood.

There were a couple inexplicable finds that day. This would have been fun to dress up, but I don't have room in my closet. This, um. I don't know what the hell this is. Guesses so far have been some kind of dust mop attachment and some kind of homemade bicycle seat cover.

The highlight of the day, though? The Mystery Box.



Me: O.O

Erin: Oh, no.

Me: O.O

Erin: No!

Me: Ooooooooooh!

Erin: You are a rube.

Me: Sir! Sir! I shall take this box!

Two dimes and a nickel later...the box turned out to be empty.

Me: ;_;

Erin: A rube, I say.

The plan is to fill the box with a bunch of random stuff and sneak it into someone else's garage sale on another weekend. I've got a wrench, a Barbie head, a Ramen seasoning packet (chicken), a bent pushpin, some fuzzy purple yarn. Other suggestions are welcome.

And afterwards, Erin took me for watermelon ice cream. How long have I been saying watermelon should be an ice cream flavour? A very. Long. Time.

Best day ever!

Assignment: Write a letter to your instructor in which a friend or someone you know well introduces you. This sample will help us ensure that you have been placed properly in English.

( To Whom It May Concern, )

O Rose, thou art sick!
The invisible worm,
That flies in the night,
In the howling storm,

Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy;
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.

(William Blake)

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare sieze the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art.
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

(William Blake)

* Health Software Systems

* Medical Transcription

* Keyboarding

* Moar English Comp.

Someone please explain to me why Keyboarding is not a prerequisite for the two above it.

"The thing about computers is they're really technical." --My Software Systems professor. Oh good lord.

In honor of Mother's Day: Memorable quotes/conversations with my mom.

~

Random quotes:

"Jesus wants us to love each other and help each other and not pay too much attention to the rest, because a lot of the Bible is just, y'know, stuff."

"Praise Jesus and pass the prozac."

"The only thing worse than clown sex would be mime sex."

"I'm not voting unless it's for 'neither of the above'. Or Gumby. Gumby is neither of the above."

"I just had an epiphany! Ooh, I just had another one! I'm either having epiphanies or small strokes. Either way, I'm seeing pretty flashes of light."

~

Mom: I'm glad I don't have eye stalks.

Me: What?

Mom: Well, just imagine if your eyes were on stalks like an alien, instead of in your head. I'd be very depressed.

~

Me: We can't have the cake with the wine. Wine doesn't compliment chocolate.

Mom: Yes, it does! *holds up cake and makes it talk in squeaky voice to wine* Hi there! You look great! You're so full-bodied! I love you!

~

Mom: I don't wanna go to work.

Me: Don't go to work.

Mom: They don't pay me unless I do.

Me: We will live on gumdrops and candy canes brought to us by the elves.

Mom: Okay, that's one plan. Does my eye look better? (Mom hurt her eye earlier and it turned all red and disgusting.)

Me: Nope.

Mom: Good. I'll act like it's a symptom of something even worse. I'll take some liver in my purse and pretend to throw it up at the meeting. Can you throw up your own liver?

Me: I don't know of any disease that causes both retinal bruising and vomiting internal organs.

Mom: Darn. Well, I do like gumdrops.

~

Me: This is stupid. I have to write a story where every sentence starts with the next letter of the alphabet.

Mom: Asshole. Bitch. Cunt. Damn. So on, so on. Zachary had Tourette's.

~

Me: Maybe Charlotte would stop whining if we got another cat.

Mom: What? A kitten?

Me: Yeah, a baby for her to play with. Keep her occupied.

Mom: It didn't work for you when I had Erin...

~

Erin: That guy had a cute butt.

Mom: That's not what you're supposed to be paying attention to! Baptists do not...they're not....Baptists don't have butts!

Me: Not your best save, mom.

Erin: Well, what do they sit on, then?

Mom: On Jesus.

~

Me: I read the other day that supposedly life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you respond to it.

Mom: *looks around* PLBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBT!

~

Had a nightmare last night.

( cut for friends' sake )

Goodnight goodnight
Leave all your toys
Candles and cats
A few stupid boys
And a rock for good luck
Two different eyes
Leave your red birds to sing us lullabies
And some books and a baby
A ceiling of gold
The New York yankees
And a bottle of snow

Had me a fine weekend.

Annie and Ryan were up, and they came over Friday night. We took turns sucking ass at Cooking Mama, went out for pizza, sat on the curb outside Radio Shack and passed around a bag of marshmallows (while talking about how sad it was to be doing that) and then decided Erin was due to get drunk for the first time ever. And she did indeed! It was very adorable.

Erin: *weaving back and forth across room* Hahaha! I thought that whole balance thing was made up!

Annie: Can you hand me that?
Erin: No. Well, I could, but I'm lazy and I've got a drink in my hand.
Megan: See, NOW you're in college.

We were drinking rum and coke, UV Blue, and Jager bombs. Erin found out she likes all three, which I think increases the number of drinks she likes to...three. We got her to do a few shots as well, which she had said she would not do. (I think the shots were of the leftover pomegranate vodka? From when Holly came over?) Annie and I got "where did my pants go" bombed. Ryan killed half a bottle of Jager. On his own. In one drink. And was completely sober within a few hours. Good times. Good times.

P.S. Tattoo Dark Spiced Rum? Yummy yummy.

Saturday Annie and Ryan and I mini-road-tripped it on over to TC. Really, going anywhere from my house is a 2 hour drive. It's the shameless singing along to bad pop music that makes the mini-road-trip difference. We did a bit of aimless meandering in Hocus Pocus, which is really all one does in Hocus Pocus. The guy there did a couple tricks for Annie-- the one with the cups and the ball, the one with the little jewel stick-- and she was delighted, either because she possesses an innocent childlike joy or because she'd accidentally taken two Klonopin. We went to Borders, where I used up something like fifty bucks worth of credit card reward coupons-- got a book on the beginnings of modern surgery, a humongous H.P. Lovecraft collection, and a complete Arthur Rimbaud collection with a hideous blue and orange cover. (I say hideous, but I love it dearly.)

We also went to dinner at at one of those janky strip-mall Chinese buffets with Jake, a friend of Ryan's, and Jake's girlfriend Egg. Egg is not actually named Egg. But I cannot remember her real name. Because she is Egg. The food was awful. Annie and I were sitting together at one end of the table, exchanging pathetic expressions every time we tried something. The fried rice was bad. The fried rice. I'm not even sure how you do that. We were also sitting together at the end of the table ignoring Jake's chatter about dagohir and ignoring Egg. I think Jake's serious interest in dagohir pretty much sums up Jake.

The food was, in fact, so bad that Ryan treated us to ice cream afterwards. Which was awesome, because it was Cold Stone. And which sucked, because somebody fucking tipped.

Sunday I mainly spent going "blaaaaaaaaaaaargh" from an overdose of alcohol and human contact.

Good times. Good times.

[00:04] Seiran79: Dude, my tits are VERY high-res.

[18:41] dissolute19: I love how you just take my gorgeous hair on faith.

[23:38] dissolute19: We are of one mind. One koala mind.

[16:28] dissolute19: Aw, I wouldn't bleed on them. They're pretty.

[16:20] dissolute19: Fun fact: Promises made with somebody's hand slowing down on your dick are 1000% less useful than promises made in ordinary circumstances.

[02:49] dissolute19: That is why you always try to drink enough on Saturday night to still be a *little* tipsy on Sunday morning. As a protective barrier against Ian McShane.