featherynscale: Schmendrick the magician from The Last Unicorn (Default)
I got my air purifier about two days ago. Set it up next to the bed, which drops the sexiness of my bedroom setup significantly. On the other hand, I can now breathe, and I have pretty much stopped coughing, so I've stopped losing sexy points based on snot and hacking. I'm calling it good. The air purifier is not the Tesla Roadster of air purifiers, but it might be the Infiniti G Coupe. It has a remote control, which is necessary to switch between several different operating modes. There is an owner's manual which is not as large as the one for my car, but larger than the one on the last audio equipment I bought. It has an automatic mode, in which it senses concentration of crap in the air and responds. Like most people probably would be, I said "Yeah right" about this. But lo, if you stand next to the machine while it's on auto and fart, it spins up to a higher mode. Little things impress me.

In other news, I still have no test results. I do, however, have an appointment with my doctor on Friday. Perhaps by then, they will have resolved the records problem. Or, you know, not. Since my initial episode, I've had about three more, though none were nearly as severe as the first one. I have some remaining concern about whether I'm having small strokes, or perhaps a brain tumor, or something similarly awful that will either kill me soon or render me some sort of vegetable. I'm particularly concerned about the vegetable part. [livejournal.com profile] triadruid offered to take me in to have "DNR" tattooed on my chest, if it would make me feel better about things. Which, of course, it bloody well would.

Other than that, I'm just freaking busy all the time. I get to go to Nebraska next week, woo hoo. Actually, I am pretty excited about that. I've never been to Nebraska, so I get to mark it off the list of states I've never been to. And, if that weren't enough, the Omaha zoo has the world's largest indoor swamp. I absolutely must see that. Strangely, though, it's not generating much interest in my traveling companions.
featherynscale: Schmendrick the magician from The Last Unicorn (Default)
I got my air purifier about two days ago. Set it up next to the bed, which drops the sexiness of my bedroom setup significantly. On the other hand, I can now breathe, and I have pretty much stopped coughing, so I've stopped losing sexy points based on snot and hacking. I'm calling it good. The air purifier is not the Tesla Roadster of air purifiers, but it might be the Infiniti G Coupe. It has a remote control, which is necessary to switch between several different operating modes. There is an owner's manual which is not as large as the one for my car, but larger than the one on the last audio equipment I bought. It has an automatic mode, in which it senses concentration of crap in the air and responds. Like most people probably would be, I said "Yeah right" about this. But lo, if you stand next to the machine while it's on auto and fart, it spins up to a higher mode. Little things impress me.

In other news, I still have no test results. I do, however, have an appointment with my doctor on Friday. Perhaps by then, they will have resolved the records problem. Or, you know, not. Since my initial episode, I've had about three more, though none were nearly as severe as the first one. I have some remaining concern about whether I'm having small strokes, or perhaps a brain tumor, or something similarly awful that will either kill me soon or render me some sort of vegetable. I'm particularly concerned about the vegetable part. [livejournal.com profile] triadruid offered to take me in to have "DNR" tattooed on my chest, if it would make me feel better about things. Which, of course, it bloody well would.

Other than that, I'm just freaking busy all the time. I get to go to Nebraska next week, woo hoo. Actually, I am pretty excited about that. I've never been to Nebraska, so I get to mark it off the list of states I've never been to. And, if that weren't enough, the Omaha zoo has the world's largest indoor swamp. I absolutely must see that. Strangely, though, it's not generating much interest in my traveling companions.
featherynscale: Schmendrick the magician from The Last Unicorn (Default)
I'm just remembering this afternoon something that never fails to crack my shit up. One day, when I was in high school (or perhaps junior high), for some reason a lovely and stupid girl was totally unloading her personal woes on me. At the height of this bitch session about how everyone betrayed her and treated her badly, she looked at me and said in perfect sincerity:
"I envy you, because you'll always know that your friends aren't your friends because of your looks or your money."

Boy, that's as true today as it ever was then. (Some of you may have heard this story before, and I apologize for boring you with it again. To me, this is funny every time.)
featherynscale: Schmendrick the magician from The Last Unicorn (Default)
I'm just remembering this afternoon something that never fails to crack my shit up. One day, when I was in high school (or perhaps junior high), for some reason a lovely and stupid girl was totally unloading her personal woes on me. At the height of this bitch session about how everyone betrayed her and treated her badly, she looked at me and said in perfect sincerity:
"I envy you, because you'll always know that your friends aren't your friends because of your looks or your money."

Boy, that's as true today as it ever was then. (Some of you may have heard this story before, and I apologize for boring you with it again. To me, this is funny every time.)
featherynscale: Schmendrick the magician from The Last Unicorn (Default)
What happens in Vegas allegedly stays in Vegas, but I fail to see how that's at all entertaining to anybody. Anyway, [livejournal.com profile] kittenpants got back to good ol' Flyover Country about 2 a.m. on Saturday, and are all back in our own beds (and offices) now.

I managed to survive the Vegas experience without any anxiety attacks, claustrophobia, need to retreat to a corner and hold my head and rock, or anything like that. I also managed to do this without staying drunk for the duration of my visit (which is how I functioned last time I went to Vegas). I consider this to be a victory. Brain re-wiring is going along well.

Overall, the trip was alternately amazing and awful. Highlights in each category are below the cut, if you're interested.Read more... )
featherynscale: Schmendrick the magician from The Last Unicorn (Default)
What happens in Vegas allegedly stays in Vegas, but I fail to see how that's at all entertaining to anybody. Anyway, [livejournal.com profile] kittenpants got back to good ol' Flyover Country about 2 a.m. on Saturday, and are all back in our own beds (and offices) now.

I managed to survive the Vegas experience without any anxiety attacks, claustrophobia, need to retreat to a corner and hold my head and rock, or anything like that. I also managed to do this without staying drunk for the duration of my visit (which is how I functioned last time I went to Vegas). I consider this to be a victory. Brain re-wiring is going along well.

Overall, the trip was alternately amazing and awful. Highlights in each category are below the cut, if you're interested.Read more... )
featherynscale: Schmendrick the magician from The Last Unicorn (pout)
Sooo....
Asmodeus blew up this afternoon. Well, not actually blew up, I guess. Lost all the water in the radiator suddenly and without warning. That's more accurate, but less concise. Anyway, he had to be towed to the shop, and I'll have to go round to the shop tomorrow and ask them to take a look. For those of you playing along at home, yes, in fact, he *was* just in the shop, and yes, in fact, they *did* say nothing was wrong with his engine.

*sigh*

You know what the worst part is?
I know more than one joke that centers around the phrase "It looks like you blew a seal".
featherynscale: Schmendrick the magician from The Last Unicorn (Default)
Sooo....
Asmodeus blew up this afternoon. Well, not actually blew up, I guess. Lost all the water in the radiator suddenly and without warning. That's more accurate, but less concise. Anyway, he had to be towed to the shop, and I'll have to go round to the shop tomorrow and ask them to take a look. For those of you playing along at home, yes, in fact, he *was* just in the shop, and yes, in fact, they *did* say nothing was wrong with his engine.

*sigh*

You know what the worst part is?
I know more than one joke that centers around the phrase "It looks like you blew a seal".
featherynscale: Schmendrick the magician from The Last Unicorn (Default)
1. There is nowhere in Kansas City (with the possible exception of the airport) where one can get one's shoes shined on short notice. I have noted before that Midwesterners generally dress badly, and I'm adding this observation on to that one. Wear crappy shoes, Kansas City, it's okay, everyone else is doing it. NOTE: I am actually pleased that Midwesterners dress badly, because that makes one less thing that I have to worry about in life. And, in the unfashionable, slightly autistic heart of my heart, I really prefer to wear black t-shirts and jeans all the time anyway.

2. As I feared, the weight-loss is returning me to previous comic-book proportions. I tried to buy a new bra on Saturday, and was measured out as a 34DDD. 34DDD, children. You cannot buy anything for this off the rack. For those of you for whom buying large bras is not an everyday activity, the alarming part of this is that you can't really buy anything larger than a C cup in anything smaller than a 36 band. A 34DDD is probably the equivalent of looking for men's pants in 28 waist, 38 inseam. Or some such thing.

3. The me of six months ago was clever, and the me of today is still listening to that old me subconsciously. Having failed to put the end-of-EiR events on the calendar, I look at the next few weeks and discover that I don't really have to reschedule much of anything to attend them, yay, and that we were smart enough to split out 'critique of final ritual and review of test' from 'graduation ceremony'. We are smart.
featherynscale: Schmendrick the magician from The Last Unicorn (Default)
1. There is nowhere in Kansas City (with the possible exception of the airport) where one can get one's shoes shined on short notice. I have noted before that Midwesterners generally dress badly, and I'm adding this observation on to that one. Wear crappy shoes, Kansas City, it's okay, everyone else is doing it. NOTE: I am actually pleased that Midwesterners dress badly, because that makes one less thing that I have to worry about in life. And, in the unfashionable, slightly autistic heart of my heart, I really prefer to wear black t-shirts and jeans all the time anyway.

2. As I feared, the weight-loss is returning me to previous comic-book proportions. I tried to buy a new bra on Saturday, and was measured out as a 34DDD. 34DDD, children. You cannot buy anything for this off the rack. For those of you for whom buying large bras is not an everyday activity, the alarming part of this is that you can't really buy anything larger than a C cup in anything smaller than a 36 band. A 34DDD is probably the equivalent of looking for men's pants in 28 waist, 38 inseam. Or some such thing.

3. The me of six months ago was clever, and the me of today is still listening to that old me subconsciously. Having failed to put the end-of-EiR events on the calendar, I look at the next few weeks and discover that I don't really have to reschedule much of anything to attend them, yay, and that we were smart enough to split out 'critique of final ritual and review of test' from 'graduation ceremony'. We are smart.
featherynscale: Schmendrick the magician from The Last Unicorn (amazing isn't it)
The Police are back together and touring.

This ends my Zombie Uprising 2007 Report. Thank you, and goodnight.

(Ah, I kid. I fucking love The Police.)
featherynscale: Schmendrick the magician from The Last Unicorn (Default)
The Police are back together and touring.

This ends my Zombie Uprising 2007 Report. Thank you, and goodnight.

(Ah, I kid. I fucking love The Police.)
featherynscale: Schmendrick the magician from The Last Unicorn (Baphomet...who?)
1. When the top entry on your friends list is a photograph of some sort of Anton Lavey goat orgy, it takes much longer for your open browser window to close than at any other time.

2. According to the NIH's body mass index calculator, I'm not obese. In fact, I'm awfully close to what they think is a 'normal healthy weight'. This comes as something of a shock.

3. Pepsi product websites are practically useless. I'm looking for a very critical piece of information: Where can I buy Starbucks DoubleShots in the sugar-free version? (I'm not usually a supporter of Star-"taste the charcoal, not the bean*"-Bucks, but this is pretty tasty, and in any case, it seems to be the only sugar-free iced coffee product in the world. [livejournal.com profile] kittenpants claims to have bought a brand called Havana at a truck stop somewhere, but this legendary brand has proved as elusive as Bigfoot, grey aliens, or compassionate conservativism.) Can I find this important info on the Starbucks iced coffees website? No, I cannot. I can, however, click on a lot of unlabeled photo-elements within a scene to be taken to things like a screen where I can virtually grab a glass, fill it with ice, and presumably pour iced coffee into it. Very helpful, that is.

4. The Long John Silver's near my office is closing at the end of this month. I have a strong desire to go there for one last serving of cheap, greasy, batter-covered fish and chips rolled in extra salt (and perhaps some heavy metals or radioactive materials) before they close. But I probably won't.

* I believe that this description of the Starbucks roast process should be credited to [livejournal.com profile] diermuid.
featherynscale: Schmendrick the magician from The Last Unicorn (Default)
1. When the top entry on your friends list is a photograph of some sort of Anton Lavey goat orgy, it takes much longer for your open browser window to close than at any other time.

2. According to the NIH's body mass index calculator, I'm not obese. In fact, I'm awfully close to what they think is a 'normal healthy weight'. This comes as something of a shock.

3. Pepsi product websites are practically useless. I'm looking for a very critical piece of information: Where can I buy Starbucks DoubleShots in the sugar-free version? (I'm not usually a supporter of Star-"taste the charcoal, not the bean*"-Bucks, but this is pretty tasty, and in any case, it seems to be the only sugar-free iced coffee product in the world. [livejournal.com profile] kittenpants claims to have bought a brand called Havana at a truck stop somewhere, but this legendary brand has proved as elusive as Bigfoot, grey aliens, or compassionate conservativism.) Can I find this important info on the Starbucks iced coffees website? No, I cannot. I can, however, click on a lot of unlabeled photo-elements within a scene to be taken to things like a screen where I can virtually grab a glass, fill it with ice, and presumably pour iced coffee into it. Very helpful, that is.

4. The Long John Silver's near my office is closing at the end of this month. I have a strong desire to go there for one last serving of cheap, greasy, batter-covered fish and chips rolled in extra salt (and perhaps some heavy metals or radioactive materials) before they close. But I probably won't.

* I believe that this description of the Starbucks roast process should be credited to [livejournal.com profile] diermuid.
featherynscale: Schmendrick the magician from The Last Unicorn (did you have fun?)
So anyway. Dallas. We drove down to Dallas Thursday night, as soon as I got home from work. We knew the drive was going to suck, but wanted to do it then so that we'd have a day to kill in Dallas and do some touristy shit (you know, see things, take pictures, have fun) before we had to be at PVUUC for the start of the class on Friday night.

This did not go down at all as we had planned. We got into Dallas at 3 a.m. Friday. We caught the change-of-interstate to go to the hotel we'd reserved and almost immediately ran into standing traffic. There had been a multi-fatality wreck on Dallas' 635, and the entire highway was shut down, with all four lanes of traffic being shunted off to a single-lane exit, at which there was a traffic light. We finally made it the 11 miles further to the hotel by about 4:15. According to the news, they were still cleaning up the accident at morning rush-hour.

This was to be a theme of the weekend. Read more... )
featherynscale: Schmendrick the magician from The Last Unicorn (Default)
So anyway. Dallas. We drove down to Dallas Thursday night, as soon as I got home from work. We knew the drive was going to suck, but wanted to do it then so that we'd have a day to kill in Dallas and do some touristy shit (you know, see things, take pictures, have fun) before we had to be at PVUUC for the start of the class on Friday night.

This did not go down at all as we had planned. We got into Dallas at 3 a.m. Friday. We caught the change-of-interstate to go to the hotel we'd reserved and almost immediately ran into standing traffic. There had been a multi-fatality wreck on Dallas' 635, and the entire highway was shut down, with all four lanes of traffic being shunted off to a single-lane exit, at which there was a traffic light. We finally made it the 11 miles further to the hotel by about 4:15. According to the news, they were still cleaning up the accident at morning rush-hour.

This was to be a theme of the weekend. Read more... )
featherynscale: Schmendrick the magician from The Last Unicorn (Default)
[livejournal.com profile] triadruid finally talked me into seeing Grindhouse on Saturday. I enjoyed the hell out of it, but I did come away with the feeling that it was not so much a movie, but the world's most expensive in-joke. Still, it was wildly funny -- both films were, but for different reasons. The Rodriguez picture is just over-the-top gore and bad dialogue (and Freddy Rodriguez riding to glory on a kid's minibike -- he's like a Shriner from Hell). Tarantino's effort is his typical shtick, lots of people sitting around talking in coffeeshops, punctuated by ludicrous unexplained violence. It has the added charm of featuring vengeful stuntwomen indulging in some joyful car-crashing, which I enjoyed immensely.

In retrospect, though, I believe that if [livejournal.com profile] triadruid had told me that seeing this movie would involve having to think about Quentin Tarantino's cock (there is a scene for this in the Rodriguez film, which is easily the most over-the-top in the film), I might not have gone. I have a list of things I do not want to ever have to think about, and while Tarantino's cock is probably not #1 on the list, it's still in the top twenty.

For extra bonus awful, we were at the Ward Parkway Theater. So, if you've been watching the news out of the Great Midwaste, you will be aware that on Sunday, some crazy fucker went up to the mall there and shot a bunch of people more or less at random. So that's exciting. Yeesh.
featherynscale: Schmendrick the magician from The Last Unicorn (Default)
[livejournal.com profile] triadruid finally talked me into seeing Grindhouse on Saturday. I enjoyed the hell out of it, but I did come away with the feeling that it was not so much a movie, but the world's most expensive in-joke. Still, it was wildly funny -- both films were, but for different reasons. The Rodriguez picture is just over-the-top gore and bad dialogue (and Freddy Rodriguez riding to glory on a kid's minibike -- he's like a Shriner from Hell). Tarantino's effort is his typical shtick, lots of people sitting around talking in coffeeshops, punctuated by ludicrous unexplained violence. It has the added charm of featuring vengeful stuntwomen indulging in some joyful car-crashing, which I enjoyed immensely.

In retrospect, though, I believe that if [livejournal.com profile] triadruid had told me that seeing this movie would involve having to think about Quentin Tarantino's cock (there is a scene for this in the Rodriguez film, which is easily the most over-the-top in the film), I might not have gone. I have a list of things I do not want to ever have to think about, and while Tarantino's cock is probably not #1 on the list, it's still in the top twenty.

For extra bonus awful, we were at the Ward Parkway Theater. So, if you've been watching the news out of the Great Midwaste, you will be aware that on Sunday, some crazy fucker went up to the mall there and shot a bunch of people more or less at random. So that's exciting. Yeesh.

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