oops.
right, I was posting to the non-existant site,
you want stopbouncing.com

he's my hero!!! it's his parents 25th anniversy today. I however, fully intended to pick something up yesterday, but the store was closed by the time I got there. He happens to be at the mall, and he's picked it up and placed the engraving order for me so I can pick it up on the way home. Reason #8742. via bloggerbot

Testing 1 2 3
Okay, Um, I'm still working out kinks over at stopbouncing.com so, you can head over, but I promise nothing...

MOVING ON UP!!!
Aw yeah.

I have registered some webspace and if'n you'd like to be alerted to the launch of stopbouncing.com , drop me a line at hammytrue@hotmail.com

drastic measures
I have reduced myself to putting stickies on my pc clock and phone clock in hopes of making the day go quicker.
I am so clock watching today.

riiiight
Should I be concerned that I keep smelling vanilla on my arms and hands, despite not wearing anything vanilla scented today?

Cause for Celebration
After shopping for pants last night, I would like to announce the following.
In about a years time, I have gone from a size 14, to a size 10.
No fad diets, no starving, no shakes... just portioning and exercise.
I know someone out there is making a face about it taking a year, and only being a size 10, but I'll tell you what, I prolly have less of a chance of ballooning back up as I've taken my time to drop over 20 lbs.

Today is a good day.

Memorial Service (in caps) and Directions (not in caps) (I'm feeling lazy) (I mean, I killed a centipede) (let me live it up) (Oh, what, you wanna come over here and say that?) (yeah, didn't think so)
Attention all employees . . . . .
there will be a memorial service for the slain centipede this morning at 10:00.
Cheering section, to the right...here's your airhorn and foam finger... one beer and one peanut pack per person.
Beer sales will be cut off half way through the memorial service.
ALL YE WHOM GATHER IN THIS MOST SACRED BREAK ROOM TO MARK THE SMOOSHING OF CENTIPEDE.
OH, FOR HE WAS A HAIRY CENTIPEDE, OH FOR HE HAD MANY MANY MANY MANY MANY MANY CREEPY LITTLE LEGS.
YET, HE DIED A DIGNIFED DEATH, RUNNING UNTIL HE CAME THE VICTIM OF A 92 CENT RULER.

Facilitating the Evil Look of Doom (tm)
Today is the first day of our dress code.
Previously, we could wear jeans and sneakers... now we're business casual.
Naturally, all the bosses are trying to encourage us by telling us how nice we look.
I walk into my boss' office and he starts in with the, "Wow, it's a new Stephan--" before I gave him The Evil Look of Doom, which caused him to physically recoil and say "whow".

I didn't mean it. I swear.

song=memory
NP: Tonight Tonight by Smashing Pumpkins
Setting: First Date, sitting in his Blazer. It's about 4 AM. We've closed down Fridays and some local bar.
Scene Set up: We've just talked about how we should say goodbye; a handshake? a hug? (gasp) a kiss?
Deep down, I know this is something.
Something is happening.
This whole thing wasn't just some chance meeting.
I know that this isn't going to be our last date. I know that I'm not going to be able to pull a Swingers (waiting 3 days to call).
I am going to want to see this boy consistantly and in large blocks of time.
And when we decided to kiss, this song reached the pinacle "Toooooooooniiiiiiiiiggggggghhhhht, Tonight".

freak.
Am I the only person who gets offened by junk mail?
"Watch your lover beg for me" it was titled... and I said (yes, to my PC), "NO! he's mine! Go away."

Count the icky habits!
I was in rare form.
Dad was scrounging through the kitchen cabinets, knowing very well that I often buy frosting to eat, rather then to frost.
Him- why haven’t you eaten this one yet? It’s Funfetti!
Me- I haven’t? (grabs the frosting, pops the top, it’s open. I put the top back on and hand it back)
Him- Aren’t you supposed to refrigerate this?
Me- Prolly.
Him- (reading side of container) oh, the things on top are “candy bits”.
Me- Weeeee! Candy bits!
Him- (reading still)
Me- Candy bits!
Him- See! A-ha! There it is! Right here, very small and at the end… that’s not a very good place for that!
Me- I’m sure it’s fine.
Him- No Stephanie, it says right her-
Me- (grabbing the frosting again, popping the top. I jam a finger into the frosting and into my mouth)
Him- (runs over to sink, laughing an gagging)
Mom- ACK!
I stick my finger in my mouth, a huge glop of frosting sitting on my lip.
Me- YILCH! (running over to sink with my tongue out)

I thought frosting had a shelf life of forever.
It doesn’t.
It was a grainy sugary mess.
And this is coming from someone who eats kool-aid.

life imitates art
I was walking out of the deli, when I overheard this converstaion:
".. funk that! I was like, if Darell wants to freak me over like that, then fark! I'll fook him over twice as f-ing hard; the mother fluffer!..."
(unless you've lost your sense of humor, take all the "F" words and replace them with THE "F" Word")
Now, it seemed to me, that this could have easily been a discussion amoungst friends regarding the verbage used in one of those new-fangled rap songs.
And I almost expected to see a group of big haired girls in hot pants, shaking what they have when not rubbing thier hands all over thier bodies, while a very decked out (yet somehow street legal) car pulls up with heavy tint and smoke pouring out the windows.

And who says I don't have an imagination.

misleading
I'm sorry if I look like if you ask me the same question 4 times you'll get the answer you want.

influential
Inspiried by michele's account, I concur that it was Weird Dream Night.
ahem.
I work in a Chinese food place, where my job is to make copies of Sister Machine Gun songs from floppy disc to Zip discs via this huge purple machine with a cracked plexi-glass window on it.
Well, I go wandering around, not realizing that the illegal copier is messing up until it’s too late. I have to leave to take my mom to the doctors office, so I assure my boss that I’ll have the whole thing fixed when I come back.
(now to the weird parts)
I take my hang glider from the locker room and proceed to fly home.
I don’t hit any trees, or power lines, but I come close.
And rather then people trying to shoot me out of the sky, they all point and look (a la Godzilla movies) saying nice things like, “Look at her parachute” and “that looks like fun!” and “look at her go!”
Even though it is dark out, I can see the brillant colors of my hang gilder above me.
I get about half way home, before I realize that my mom can’t fly, and I will have to go back to work and pick up my car… which oddly enough, wasn’t SilverCar (current vehicle), but Pascal (my green Saturn).
Anyways, so I get back to the mall (which is where the Chinese Food Place is) and I cant find the Chinese Food Place.
Giving up, I of course find it, get my keys and go to the car.
Boyfriend is in the car and we drive to my house.
He is acting weird so I ask him what’s happening… he asks me a question about our relationship, which is by no means warranted, as what he asked isn’t an issue. (I’m not going to get specific about what was said, that’s my business).
I suppose I get my mom to the Dr, cuz I’m back at the mall, and I’m now shopping… but all I’m buying are pink sweaters… despite needing pants.

Nice Feeling #154
When they wake you up with a little kiss, and smile while watching you wake up.
And even though they say it every morning, you know that they really do want you to have a good day at work.

It's not Tuesday is it?
It started off well enough… knowing that the alarm was set for people who have problems waking up on time.
Even after a long hot shower and not having to stumble over small pets, it was still going well.
Despite there not being a grocery store where I thought there was one, after getting turned around on crazy backstreets, it was still tolerable.
Added that I have no sense of direction, and it took me five minutes to get off the wrong direction highway and another 5 to get onto the correct direction highway, there wasn’t a big issue.
I got a decent parking spot, didn’t get oogled on the way in, showed up like, a half hour early to work…
Granted, I spend the last of my on-hand cash on dinner last night, which was supposed to be lunch, which is in the fridge, which I couldn’t have gone back and get seeing as I don’t have a key to the place where I stayed, and the snack machine doesn’t have anything besides a Super Glazed Bear Claw that resembles breakfast…
WHY DO I FEEL SO CRAPPY?!
listening to: Nine Inch Nails- down in it

Uh oh
Last night I made veggie chili after not making it for quite some time.
Today, I began munching down on it, before stopping and thinking, "Why did I stop making this in the first place?".
I'm waiting for my tummy to protest. I'm giving it a half hour, if I feel okay, I'll finish it.
On the topic of taste...
me: it's not bad, unless you get a chunk of fake meat, then it's kinda germy.
them: I've heard enough. I'll see you 'round.

notes
To that white Grand Am on the 190 this morning: putting your blinker on AFTER you swerve into my lane doesn't make it okay.
To the people/person who leave the empty pot on the burner, thus creating supergooey coffe in EVERY POT: you suck.
To those people who greet you by saying something stupid (I.E."you look tired" or "get some sun thise weekend?"): don't talk to me, you will only succeed in pissing me off, and really, it's not going to take much today.

very odd
Tomorrow I'm going camping.
I know that I'll see him tomorrow.
Something inside of me is so giddy. Like it's halloween (my fave holiday) or Yule.
I can not wait to see him tomorrow. To hug him. To kiss him. To watch him smile.

Sometimes I think I'm the last romantic.

"I love you, always have"
Yeah, so I stayed up past my bedtime and watched Braveheart last night.
There's something about those love/revenge movies that I just looooovee.
The Crow, True Romance, Braveheart...
This genre of movie, in my opinion, is the greatest kind of date movie.
The girls get the kissing, the romance and the guys get blood, decapitation and deciet.

reason #47844
He knows that Math and I are not friends and do not get along.
I give Math information, Math is supposed to give me an answer... Math and I do not see eye to eye.
He is a math-smartie (and no, not one of those chocolate smarties they sell in Canada).
We spent a half hour on the phone last night, trying to dechiper a formula I could not get to work.
Of course he had the answer after I gave him all the numbers.
He sends me the formula, and the example in an email, so stupid me can cut and paste.
I love him.
And not just for his big brain... although, I keep threatening him, that when I get turned into a zombie, I'm knocking on his door first.

Wake-up call
This episode: Dead Weight
(what can I say, I love Police Squad)

Preface: my dog is old. He’s got old thick toenails that he won’t let anyone cut. He likes to sleep, even though he gets up every couple of hours, walks about 3 feet and plops down again.
Boyfriend plugs in cell to charge it.
I don’t remember what I was dreaming about, but circumstances provided, I’m sure it was something wonderful.
I’m sleeping, prolly thinking about food or water, when I hear this odd, high pitched, noise.
I figure it’s a weird technicality of the dream and try to ignore it.
I guess I wasn’t the only one, because right around the same time that I got sick of the noise, he’s already up going, “what is that?”
I figure a bulb has come loose on the overhead fan and is rattling… he says it’s his phone.
I turn on the overhead light.
The phone isn’t where we left it… The dogs not right next to the bed…
Across the room is the dog. The phone charger is wrapped around his elbow, a couple of times.
I reach over; start to unknot it… the dog isn’t moving… he’s just laying there… I lift up his back to grab the phone and ask him (not expecting an answer), “Are you dead?”
His eyes aren’t moving, but I hear Thump-Thump as he wags his tail, obviously pleased that he was able to get attention at 1am.
For the record, the dog was chipper and ready to go out this morning, while I was ready to go back to bed.

duh on you
A.K.A- Stellar Customer Service
vendor gives me a refernece number.
me: I don't have any record of that document number in my system.
vendor gives me a site ID.
me: There isn't anything coming up for that site, with that document number.
them: call was placed 9/16.
me: (under breath, "it's only the 13th, you moron").
them: oh, I mean 9/6.
me: I have nothing from that date, for that site, with that document number, in my system.
them: so what's that mean.
me: that this isn't my call.
them: then who's is it?
me: how should I know.

ARGH!
WHAT IS SO F-ING HARD ABOUT MAKING F-ING COFFEE?!
FILTER
GROUNDS
POT
BURNER

DAMN YOU.