It can't possibly be noon already. I don't even know where the morning went. I went to Home Depot and Kinko's (excuse me, FedEx Office, formerly FedEx Kinko's, formerly Kinko's). Yesterday afternoon, the three of us who are here this week (all two days of it) on the finance side of corporate spent pretty much the whole afternoon working on this one girl's chair. But then when I looked up and realized it was 4:16 and I hadn't done anything since I got back from lunch, at least I knew where all that time went (lest you think we are stupid or something, we were trying to replace the casters on her chair, but the ones from Home Depot were not quite right and then a trip to Lowe's solved that dilemma except that two of the screw holes in the chair were kind of stripped and we didn't have any pliers or a wrench large enough to help us. Take my word for it, it took forever, and even then it only got done when a lady from the other end of the hall came down and tackled it with our computer guy who happened to drop by, plus the aid of some tools I borrowed from the construction company across the road. It was better than that morning when it took three people to change the fluorescent lights down the hall. I was not one of those three people because I had a migraine and the flashing was making me feel quite ill.). Wow, ok. Anyway, I really don't know where the morning went. At all. Wait, I spent a while talking to Rachel on Gmail. Other than that, who knows?

So...Christmas happened. It was pretty nice. I got some monies. And my parents gave me some necklaces. Guess I have to start wearing jewelry more than once every couple of weeks. I just always forget, unless it seems like there's something missing because my neckline is low. Anyway, spent some time with families. Nothing spectacular, but nothing horrendous happened either. At least, not that I can recall, although I am exceptionally good at repression and self-delusion.

Last night at shortly before 11, I heard lots of sirens and could see lights flashing my bedroom window, which is a trick since it's not at the front of the house. I didn't get up to check right away because I am a jerk, but I checked at like 11:30 and a house across the street was aflame. Not directly across the street, but across and over one. There were lots of neighbors standing in the street and milling around. I didn't go outside because it was 11:30 and cold and I was wearing pajamas and I am a bad neighbor. Also, it wasn't a ton of fire. This morning there was just a sign on the front door that said not to enter. You could see where it was blackened in the back and they had boarded it up, but the front looks totally normal. Weird.

I am going to Boston again in about a week. Want to join? I fear that this time, the weather will be wintry and I will be frozen.

So, I get the migraines. They suck. What's weird is that I used to get them most of the time on trips(not solely on trips, but I could count on trips to lead to at least one, usually more), especially family trips. Really for as long as I've been getting them, so maybe 8 years. Awesome. Now I get them when I'm home. I went to Boston-not a migraine in sight until the awesome aura popped up on my flight home. Thanksgiving-not a problem! Came home, problem. Perhaps it's good that I've been travelling so freaking much lately. On a related note, I can also eat when I am travelling. Which is good, since Thanksgiving is the home of awesome food and I would have been super sad not to be able to partake. So, not hungry at home, mostly nauseated after a few bites of things. Hungry when away, like this weekend, when I ate meals and desserts. My grandma had the most awesome things that were like chewable crack. They were mint chocolate covered cashews. Mmmm. Also good-cheesecake and peppermint bark. Also weird is how many migraines I've been getting lately that are all textbook-like, complete with auras. A couple of times I even just got the aura part and then it didn't start hurting like the dickens-more like just a sinus headache, or maybe even a regular people headache! I know, my syntax leaves something to be desired. Sorry.

Since my mom is still sick, I wound up going to Owensboro in my parents' stead on Friday. I had a lovely time and Ashley and I made some peppermint bark, and it was really good. While Mark and Ashley were at a wedding, my grandma and I took naps and then somehow ended up talking about gay people (apparently my mom had a cousin who was gay and lived in San Francisco in the eighties) and then HPV. I love my grandma, but I don't know how that happened, as I had no conscious desire to talk to her about STDs. And then we took pictures of Sarah, sans diaper and clothes. I think Mark wanted her to pee on me, since I was holding her with no diaper, but she did not. It's really awesome how easy it is to make my grandma happy. It takes so little (like a chubby naked baby). And then I felt bad about missing Thanksgiving because she kept asking me if I was sure I would be there on Friday, and right before I left, she said, "Do you promise?" I promised. And then she was upset that I put away all the clean dishes because she said there was no evidence that we'd been there. I was just trying to save her like 12 trips into the dining room, since she can't carry them all at once. But then she remembered that there was photographic evidence of our stay.

And it turns out that I made a good case for not going to Louisville on Christmas Eve, because my dad told me he told my grandfather that we aren't coming until Christmas morning. So now we only have to stay one night, but it's worse than two nights in a hotel, because it is at the house. My uncle can't be there for Christmas and my dad said if no one stays there my grandfather will be really hurt, so we're going to stay there on Christmas night. Ugh. His house makes my house look immaculate. I know! We will manage, though.

some people suck hard

I just read an article about how three cats were removed from the home of a woman who was marketing kittens as "goth kittens" on the internet after she pierced their necks, tails, and ears. That's just so cruel. I hope they scratched the crap out of her while she was trying to do it, and then everytime they saw her afterwards.

just bugging

So, I can't remember if I've mentioned this before on here, but I don't like bugs. Not that, but I won't kill them. They scare me, and I don't want any of them flying around my house, or any spiders hanging around, but I can't kill them. I am too afraid that it will hurt them, and not kill them and then they'll have a mortal wound and be in pain. Yeah, I know it's stupid. Rachel told me she doesn't think spiders can feel pain. Not being an etymologist, I really don't know. Insects and arachnoids are not something I have ever studied closely, because I don't care for them and I don't want to know about more than I have to on that front. Anyway, do you think that spiders or insects are sentient beings? Or better yet, do you actually know because you are a science nerd?

social distortion

Saturday night, Shannon and I went to a bar. I hadn't been to a bar since I was 21. And even then, I only went to The Little Brown Jug a couple times. Well, and that one time we went to Buffalo Wild Wings, but I don't really count that. And that time we went to the Deuce, but we didn't stay long at all. It was creepier than The Jug. Anyway, we went because some friends of Shannon's sister had a band that was playing. The story we heard was that they were going to play Weezer covers. So we had some drinks, and then they started playing. There was no Weezer. Only Pink Floyd, a Beatles medley, some Yeah Yeah Yeahs and some other stuff I didn't recognize. Not that I recognized Pink Floyd, but Shannon knew it. Also, it was super loud. I was like, this must be why I don't go out. It was so loud it was all distorted, and this dude ran up on the stage to tinker with the mix. I was like, that's not going to help, buttnut. Had I been drunker, I might have told someone that. But I wasn't. I was just blotto enough to not really care that it was disturbingly loud. It was the kind of loud where, after it goes away, you can't hear anything for a few seconds because it's all so much quieter. Weird. After we'd been there for a few minutes, I was like, is this what bars are like? Shannon laughed and her sister was like, I don't know, I don't go to them either. I was like, man are we ever bad at this. Also, before we left, I was looking for something, and while I didn't find what I wanted, I found the soundtrack to Romeo and Juliet. Shannon and I were both pumped, because we remembered it as being pretty good. We weren't wrong. Although I had forgotten all about that ridiculous LoveFool song. Anyway, be impressed that I went out. On a Saturday night and everything. Even if I didn't know what was supposed to happen.

rampant douchebaggery alert

So, this story about a kid's birthday cake made me sad for a minute, until I realized the kid's parents were total ass chapels. Seriously? They named their kid Adolf Hitler! And then their other kid's middle names are Aryan Nation! And then their last kid is named Hinler after the SS chief Himmler. Because bigots are bad at spelling. Oh, and this other article includes more about their home and some quotes from the parents. Apparently the dad thinks swastikas are symbols of peace, which was once pretty true, since they used to be a symbol of good luck and success, but there's no denying that no one thinks that when they see one now (unless they're thinking of how successful the Nazis were at killing people). And the mom thinks that it doesn't mean anything. Wow. The parents also think that the kids' names are not going to be a problem for them later, when they're not toddlers. Also, in the second picture in the first article, it would appear that that child has a mullet. Also, who puts their kid's first and middle names on their birthday cake? Anyone else thinking they were hoping for some attention, no matter what they say about how they're just names?

Justice?

This story, about an Iranian woman who was blinded when her stalker dumped a bucket of sulfuric acid on her head, is so terrible. Obviously, what he did to her was horrifying, horrifying enough that a liberal court ruled that five drops of the same acid be put in each of her attacker's eyes, but...five drops of acid! In each eye! It seems that he is at least somewhat unstable, given his behavior before the attack, and the fact that he can stand there and look at what he did to her and his comment is that he thinks she might be able to see, so they must clean out her eye sockets before they blind him. I am torn between thinking he deserves it, and thinking he needs psychiatric help and a prison sentence. Also, where does one procure sulfuric acid?

During the 24 trip to the AL Benzes, I popped in a random old cd that said May 2001 and now I can't stop singing Teenage Dirtbag. Seriously, for three days now, I've been wandering around work humming it to myself. And at home, I alternate it with Edelweiss. Yes, I am a winner. Also, I learned that Mark does not remember the words to much of anything that's not hymns. Poor Mark.

Orgasmic birth seems unlikely...

So, I was going about my business this morning, checking things I always check, when I happened across this. I have never had a child, but I have surmised that it's not generally a cakewalk. Also, the comments on the original article are disturbing, but the Jezebel comments are hilarious.

Do you want boring and mundane?

OK, so I was really going to stop talking about this, because, much like I am not actually a crazy cat lady, I am also not actually a crazed teenager (thank the Lord!). But this Target: Women is too awesome to not share.

I think my favorite part is when that girl tells her hypothetical future daughter that she can't date a drug dealer because their family is straight-edge. Or maybe when Sarah tells that other girl she is going to have a great high school experience. And the dude who reads-his lipstick is scary.

OK, I just heard a lady down the hall say that the earrings she bought for some outfit were inappropriate for work. How is that possible? Are they shaped like penises? Weird.

So, last night I wrote a post that was all weird because I was having a sad, scared evening. I think it was after people went to bed and then I took it down when I got to work. It contained what I must admit was, even for me, a strange and seemingly unrelated anecdote. Anyway, I thought better of it, especially since it painted me with the crazy brush more than usual. And now I think that the older I get, the more certain things click for me. Now I am a much better judge of people, much faster than I was when I was young. And it's funny to me how certain things turn out to be pretty much the opposite of how you thought they might. And people, too. Sometimes in surprisingly good ways. But still. I was telling Shannon how I try not to have expectations at all, because then they won't be unmet, leaving me disappointed. She was like, foul! Not true. Which, fine. I guess we all have expectations, whether they are based in reality or fantasy, whether we would admit to them or not.

So, I don't mind flying. It doesn't bother me. What bothered me about this trip was that I drove my car to and from the airport. It was an exercise for my nerves. I texted Shannon when I left the airport that I was now beginning the perilous part of my journey. She told me when she got home from work that she had been waiting all afternoon for a call from me to come get her because my car fell apart or exploded. Fortunately, it did not. It's just weird because it shakes if I go between 55 and 70, but doesn't shake from 70-79. Eighty shakes, though. ;)

I had to go to the U-Haul place to buy a box on my way back to work at lunch because we adopted some kids of our students in GA, like we always do for Christmas, and we needed a giant box to put the packages we spent most of the morning wrapping in to send. There were two people in front of me and the lady at the counter was discussing with them the sad state of the work ethics of young people today. They were all like, we don't like to hire anyone under 40 to work for us. Then the lady who worked there looked at me and was like, oh, I'm sorry, you can't be more than twenty. I laughed and told her my age, and that I was not offended because in so many cases, it is true. They still didn't believe me that I was 26, though. That almost makes up for all the times I have not been carded lately. Or maybe not.

Also, to keep up my streak of pointing out a proliferation of a random store or restaurant whenever I go somewhere: there were no fewer than seven Dunkin' Donuts within a five minute walk of my hotel. In fact, there was one right next door to the hotel. And then another one right around the corner. I'm really not sure why Boston needs that many Dunkin' Donuts that close to each other. But, then, Bowling Green has zero Dunkin' Donuts stores.

Catching up

So, Thanksgiving was nice. Thanks Dave and Rachel, and Rachel's parents! Remind me to get Mom's springform pan from you this weekend. Also, remind me to bring Dave's suit. Boston was also fun. I left Sunday morning, but my first flight was delayed because as we were taxiing to the runway, the girl next to me started having a seizure. So that was new and different and scary. She was an epileptic and she was ok, although they did have to deplane her eventually. The airline did get us all on new flights very quickly for those of us who missed our connections in Charlotte. It was remarkably warm in Boston yesterday-like 45 and sunny. I didn't even need my coat and scarf. It was great weather for wandering around looking at old stuff. I forgot to take a camera, although I'm pretty sure I have some pictures of the same old buildings from that time I went to Boston ten years ago. Oh, look at that! That is a picture I took with my cell phone of the view from my hotel room balcony.

And apparently Shannon was storing up her weirdness to share with me while I was away. She got home from work today and we talked for a while, then watched 17 Kids and Counting, and then got to the weirdness. I was telling her my theory about how I should get my top front teeth filed down to make my face more symmetrical-like. And then somehow we wound up measuring the space on each of us from hip bone to hip bone in the front and from navel to the bottom of the ribs. We don't have a measuring tape, so we were using a tape measure, and I had to get into the semantic bizarreness of that. Anyway, the point is, are your shoulders a few inches shorter width-wise than your hips? Also, if you put your thumb on the bottom of your ribs below your boobs, is your belly button really close? Mine is far enough away that I have to use my middle finger to reach it, but Shannon doesn't believe me that that's just because I have a long torso and is now convinced she has a midget torso. But my long torso was the bane of my existence for a while. Now I have bigger problems. Anyway, help us settle this. I won't even tell you about the nose-measuring argument. I think we need help.