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11.10.2002 - 10:56 a.m.

Sunday

We had this major productivity-vacuum at work on Friday when our internet connection went down. It's funny when tech companies lose their net access, no one knows what to do with themselves. We stagger around blindly, making little helpless typing motions. "What is this thing you call...telephone?"

So to pass the time in the most efficient way possible, a couple coworkers and I went through a shipping catalog and cut out little pictures of various stickers you can buy. Then I went around and stuck them on people's monitors.

"DO NOT X-RAY"
"REFRIGERATE CONTENTS IMMEDIATELY"
"CONTENTS ARE FRAGILE"
"TOP LOAD ONLY"

I sniggered myself right into a state of complete and utter retardation.

"IRRITANT"
"SMALL PARTS ENCLOSED"

We looked long and hard for one that said "DELIVERIES ACCEPTED IN REAR" but alas, there were none to be found. Probably, in retrospect, a good thing.

:::

Men Are From Mars, etc. A Saturday night phone call with JB:

Me (excitedly): "So I found out last minute on Friday that he was going to propose to her on Saturday, he was going to make her do this big scavenger hunt thing and go to all these different places to find clues. Isn't that cute? And one of the places she had to go was Workplace, so me and Scott did all this stuff to help out - we printed these things she had to follow, and we put a hint in a DVD case, and then we hid behind the bar and jumped up when she came in! We gave her a rose and her next clue, and her friend was videotaping the whole thing and I guess they're going to splice everything together to make some kind of engagement movie. So I finally took off and that really sucked because the Husky game had just let out and I was stuck for like an hour, but I got a call from her later and it turns out he gave her the ring while - "
JB: "Wait, who won?"
Me: "What? Who won what?"
JB: (patiently) "The game. Huskies or Beavers?"

:::

We finally managed to make our bedroom into a pet-free zone by investing in a wonderful down comforter with a snow-white flannel duvet cover. Even one solitary hair on the thing is a crime, so we have motivation to keep the door shut.

And of course, the animals want in there. Badly. The cat is especially annoying about it - cutting quickly between your legs as you open the door, etc. Since she is no longer allowed to sleep with us, she's started a new obnoxious habit of yowling outside the door around 5 AM.

There is no stopping the cat yowl. She sits out there and claws the door and bitches her little kidney-bean sized brains out, and if you yell at her - brother, it just gets worse.

Cat: Mow. Mow. Meeeeehhhow. Ow. Mehh.
Me: (thickly): "Shrdrup!!"
Cat: MRAP! MOWWWW. WOWW. MRRT. MRT. MEH. ERRHHOW!

God, it sucks. The other day JB said, "This is like having our own rooster or something."

So I get up and I open the door and there's the cat, MRAPping at me, and wow! Here comes the dog! Hey! It must be time for BREAKFAST! And the dog has a shoe in her mouth, because that's what she does when she gets excited! And her tail is whapping against everything and oops there goes the answering machine again!

It's all too much for 5 AM, so I toss the cat out the front door, dumping her unceremoniously on the welcome mat. "You," I say to the dog, "go back to sleep. And give me my shoe."

There is maybe another hour of blissful silence before the cat, having racked her kidney-bean brain, remembers that we have a sliding glass door in our bedroom that leads outside. So she goes and yowls outside of that. She now has the added noise factor of the screen door, which she repeatedly rips at with her claws, climbs partially, and whumps back to the ground.

This is the point where I have to give in, and the cat streaks inside to bitch at her food dish, and the dog whaps her tail against everything again, and this time she has a different shoe, and everyone gets breakfast.

:::

You know when you buy a CD and it's almost perfect from the very first time you listen to it, and you find yourself singing along even though you don't really know the words yet, so you're all whinm my fnoor barohmeigh? That's how I feel about Aimee Mann's Lost In Space. I think she may be my Very Favorite Musician. And I'm squealishly happy to say I have tickets to see her perform on the 18th. Isn't that cool? I think so.

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I have moved. - 1.03.2005
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