New business idea

So my new plan is to make greeting cards. An example of my idea -

"Roses are read, violets are blue. Sugar is sweet...."
[open card]
"Please stop calling me."


So that's what I've been up to. I'll try to keep this short.

What I learned today:

"I'm sure people with a surplus of hamsters also have too many windows." - Thanks Sarah!

I use my middle finger more than I realized

So I ripped the nail off of the middle finger on my right hand. Its ripped right down to the quick. I use my hands a lot, like normal people do, for hand like things. Well now my freaking finger is all swollen and ouchy. I can still flip people off (not like I would, though. I can think of much classier insults than a simple "fuck you") but typing is difficult.

So basically, I realized that when tying, I use a combination of finger poking and normal touch typing. I use my thumbs for the space bars but I only use two fingers per hand to type. its actually surprisingly efficient. I mean, I would never get tricked into typing "greasn burger dan" or anything like that.

We have AIM set up so I can order parts from our vendors. Mostly i use this as a way to converse, rather than order parts. I mean, I have a phone for that. As a result, a lot of goofing off on my end happens. And maybe theirs. I dunno. So one day, John changes the "y" and "n" keys on Pete's keyboard. Pete makes typos galore anyway so at first I didn't notice.

Me: Hey where's you go?
Pete: luych
Me: Oh. what'd you have?
Pete: Its greasn burger dan

For some reason I found this absolutely hilarious. It wasn't until John pops up and tells me about the key switch that it made sense. The worst part was, he was convinced something was wrong with his computer, freaked out and if I recall correctly, tried to format his hard drive but was stopped.

Poor guy. Sometimes we'll still call him Burger Dan and he doesn't get it.

Erg. I was going to go somewhere else with this post. Whatever. I need more NyQuil and a nap.

Today

Today I am feeling sad. Why? because the tech that hated me without cause and without provocation left. It was his last day today and he left with the kindest words he has ever said to me. "See ya later, Penny."

This is how much I dislike change. I saw his tool box space all swept out and empty and started to get sad. It didn't help that John was gone with no hilarious musings on how Jesus would work awesomely into a zombie movie or other fun, random mostly out of place ramblings.

Too much change today. Still moving.

A kid knocked over a fire hydrant today. I'm still trying to figure out how to get it upstairs to my apartment without hurting myself. I'll have to enlist help, that's for certain. But who? Oddly enough, no one seems hilariously thrilled to lug an insanely heavy hunk of metal upstairs for my amusement. You'd think at 26, I'd have better friends than that.

Speaking of friends, wasn't I supposed to go out tonight?

And somebody shut that fucking dog up.

How not to go on a date

Do not end the conversation with the words "I have to go. My house is on fire."

I've been told I am unapproachable. This is, of course the reason why I am single. I give off of an air of approachability but whenever someone gets closer they realize I am a little rough around the edges.

I'm okay with this.

On an unrelated note, I got a phone call from Bek today at about 12 am. "I just wanted to let you know I am sitting by the pool with a margarita in my hand." She's on vacation to Florida this week. I want a margarita now.

Of course, my house wasn't actually on fire. It was just a paper towel. I have a gift for exaggeration. ("Exaggerate" has an exaggerated amount of "g"s in my opinion. This is why I never remember to put in the second one unless spell check tells me to. Spell check tells me to do so much these days. Although I can't figure out what burying bodies has to do with spelling "disingenuous". I suspect I will never know but I heed spell check's advice at all costs, no matter the peril.)

So.. you can tell something is wrong with me.

Routines, routines. Ahh the fiber that holds my very soul together is routine. You can't change one portion of my routine, not one element or things just go... awry. This is something I have come to terms with long ago. The fun that is staring at a computer screen for half the night is very little by choice and very much because I feel like I have to. I am trying to break myself slowly by creating activities for myself and the kids to do. So far its working well. The kids hardly notice my sneaking on-line here and there.

Apparently random segues are also an OCD thing because that first paragraph had very little to do with my point except that I crave, desire, have to have, cannot live without... routine. Its why quitting smoking was so hard, why I tap a credit card twice on the counter (much to the annoyance of my boss) after every transaction, and why when I got leave to run the company shuttle (part of my duties at work) I grab keys, shop cell phone, purse, personal cell phone. Then I check keys, shop cell phone, purse, personal cell phone. Then I walk the longest way around the counter into the waiting area and alert my rider that I am in fact ready for them.

I get to the Durango. Key in the slot, click right, unlock, click left, lock, click right unlock. Open door. Unlock all doors, remove key from door, climb in, check mirror right, check mirror left, check mirror right, check mirror left. Adjust mirror right, adjust mirror left, readjust mirror right, readjust mirror left, rear view check. Run rear windsheild wipers, adjust seat. Readjust seat. Run front windshield washer fluid and wipers. 1. 2. 3. Start Durango. Okay you get the idea I think. Its VERY precise.

Fortunately if I skip a step I have talked myself out of starting over. To most outside it appears as though I am doing a safety check, so i think I am in the clear as far as people thinking I am weird(er than normal).

Anyway. That's sorta a back story because what had happened was, on Friday my boss's sister-in-law required use of the durango for a camping trip or whatever so I had to drive her Lexus. Not overly a huge deal once I figured out how to turn the A/c off (I hate A/c) and work the radio. So I was unaware that this SIL was going to be taking said company shuttle so I never bothered to remove my three CDs that I keep in the console for those moments when I am heading out or back without a customer in tow. Moist of my customers are blue haired old ladies and have little respect for the fine art of Bad Religion, Social Distortion and Alkaline Trio (the three CDs I happened to have in the shuttle).

Now Monday rolls around and I am okay with driving the Lexus. Its messed up my routine a few times because the keys feel funny but like I said before, I am lucky in that sense. I talk myself into the change and all works out well. I get the Durango back at about 10 am. Just in time to make a bank run. Now when I left the Durango it was on Bad Religion's Atomic Garden minute 1:19 (I glanced over as I shut the vehicle off).

I cringed as I started the vehicle, knowing it would be on a different song and... What? What's this? Social Distortion? The SIL used my CDs. No big deal. I take a deep breath. I did, afterall leave them in the vehicle.

No. Why I had to pull over, irritated as a bat in a griddle turned on high was because this woman, this borrower of Durango, and user of CDs, had put the CDs back.. not only in the wrong cases... But she put two CDs in one case.

Fortunately there was no one in the vehicle with me or they would have been privy to just how colourful my vocabulary can be as I lovingly dusted of my precious Cds and pu them back in their cases, protected from the elements and scratches and horrid people that put them back in the wrong spot.

What kind of person *does* that?!

What kind of horrid sociopath OCD hater puts two CDs in one case?! They weren't even able to be alphabetized at that point because it was the Social D and the AT CD. Sigh. I swear they sounded just a little bit disheartened when I put them in to listen to them all the way through. Track 3, 9, 12, 1,4,10,2,5,8.

A night out

Ahh the amusement park. The endless fun that is being jarred around and spun faster than your brain can handle. Greasy food, crowds, people with personal space boundaries that are much too close for my comfort. Lines, lines and more lines.

The water park portion of it wasn't, actually, bad. I enjoyed standing in lines, talking to the person in front of me, people watching. I like those things. I enjoy (perhaps a bit too much) watching different groups of people interact with each other. From the couple that just had a fight but wouldn't cancel their planned trip with their friends, to the two people in a group that refuse to admit how they feel for each other, the overindulgent father and the eye rolling (but secretly pleased) mother, the over excited child and the subdued, looking slightly bored mother (oh wait that was me!). So many different relationships to soak in, enjoy, cringe at, smile about and giggle at their complexity.

We started off simply, water slides. We stood in line with the double raft for maybe 15 minutes to go down the canyon slide. The lady in front of me had curly brown hair and black bathing suit. She seemed as uncomfortable as I was in a bathing suit so I tried not to scrutinize her. She held her raft like a lifesaving device between herself and others. She was definitely uncomfortable. I tried to shoot her an encouraging smile but she stared back skeptically. "I hate these things," she muttered. I nodded in agreement because I too hated these things. But the look on Lacie's face as she screamed down the slide, lit up in pure joy as we hit the water and she cried to go again and again and again. That was worth it. This part, though? Standing in lines averting gazes from prying eyes? No. Not so much fun for me.

The man behind is seemed friendly enough. Taller than me by a long shot. We were eye to eye when he was on the step below me. He had already been in the water, you could tell because his hair was spiked up in an assertive manner, and his red shorts with the strangely inartistic black dragon were wet. His little girl with blond hair and cornflower blue eyes kept staring at the tattoo on my back, bouncing around and giggling excitedly with Lacie, who was for all intents and purposes just as excited as she was, although slightly more subdued because she understands, sadly even at six, that too much excitement wears me out and she wanted to take in all of the park today. To do so she was on her very bestest behavior.

We reached the top slowly in between mutterings ahead oh me, "Oh I hate this." and excited giggling and squealing behind me, all in all in one piece.

Lacie has the shrillest scream you have ever heard. It is high pitched and deafening, and when she is excited she unleashes it like you would not believe. An assault to the senses, that scream is. Screaming all the way down the twists turns and loops she glanced at me hopefully and I shot her an encouraging smile. It was supposed to say I'm having fun, and she seemed to accept that because, despite the slightly bored look on my face, she went back to screaming.

Most rides were a mixture of the same thing. Stand in line for an almost unbearably long amount of time, rush through the end. Scream. Smile encouragingly. Rinse and repeat.

I had, at one point, wanted to make a break for it before night fall. It was chilly, I was uncomfortable, Lacie had forgotten her sweatshirt. Then they methodically started switching on the lights to the rides. Her eyes lit up in reflection to the lights. Her mouth fell open slightly and an excited giggle escaped her lips as we spun around on the teacups. Her arm straightened and her finger was outstretched to the Sea Dragon. "Look mommy," she whispered as we whirled around. "Isn't it magical?"

She's still beaming about it this morning. So even though I am hiding upstairs in my room trying to get a grip on my over stimulated brain, it was worth it.