Um...Feel My Wrath?

I was really surprised the other day when I drove by the Pizza Hell where I worked last year, and saw that all the windows were boarded up and the place was completely abandoned. Ok, I wasn't that surprised, considering the overpriced pizza they sold and the managers who stole and the string of employees they screwed over and the corresponding high rate of turnover/low rate of customer satisfaction. In fact, I wouldn't be that surprised if I found out that someone had torched the place.

Did I ever tell you about how the administrative office where I worked immediately preceeding Pizza Hell (you know, the one that rhymes with H and R Cock) was disolved a few months after I stopped working there? Well it was. Disolved in the kind of way where the higher-ups decided to just start over and everyone lost their jobs.

That makes two disfunctional places in a row that have fallen apart shortly after I left. Now, I'm not going to say that one thing is directly related to the other, my leaving and the place crumbling in my wake, I mean. And I'm not going to say that future employers should know to keep me happy and beware of the destruction my displeasure will ultimately bring raining down upon their places of business.

I'm not going to say that all should love me and despair.

I'm just going to imply it.

Not Just a Figment

As discussed at some point with Steph, I will occasionally backslide a few phases into denial. Before things become visually apparant, the whole thing is surreal, and it's easy to wonder if it is happening at all. Like perhaps I made up this little story out of boredom. Perhaps it's really just a big joke on everyone. Mostly me.

There should be a phase called "delusional."

I had a doctor's appointment today. The nurse practitioner, after some routine pokes and prods, decided that we should listen to the heartbeat. She did this without much warning. One minute I am sitting there with no pants, blissfully watching this little cart-and-pony show, which is all very amusing but unnecissary because I probably conjured it up in my head. Then the next minute, there is this heartbeat echoing out of my body that is not mine, proving once and for all (before witnesses) that yes, Aquaman exists, and somehow, Aquaman is in my undercarriage.

The office also made me speak with their resident counselor. Among other things, this lady stressed two items. One was that breast feeding is important. Ok, fine. Check. I'm already on board with that. The second thing was that I should get married. For the security, for the insurance, and mostly so my man doesn't run out on me. I let her know that I'm very secure, thanks; my man doesn't have any more insurance than me; and that I am more likely to run out on myself if anyone runs out at all, but I appreciate the concern. I should have told her that my partner, Candace, and I have a very loving, stable relationship and will definitely get married as soon as we can get ourselves on one of those Rosie O'Donnell cruises.

There should also be a phase called "Fleeing From Well-Wishers and Advice-Givers to Live With Bohemian Hedonists in Thailand."

Things That Don't Suck About Being K.U.

#187
You have a good excuse to eat more healthy foods like you always wanted to.

#188
No one blames you when you eat ice cream instead.

Things That Suck About Being Knocked Up

#203

A brand-new dimension is added to wishing your sister lived next door instead of 2000 miles away.

5 Stages of Grief

(Or of receiving catastrophic news)

Denial
"oh, by the end of March, first week of April, at the latest. No worries."
"When was your last one?"
"February 1st or 2nd. Why?"

Anger
"You're waiting for the other shoe to drop?!?! I've got a shoe for you right here! And I'm about to drop it in your ass!!"

Bargaining
"If I'm asleep all the time, it will probably change it's mind and go away, right? Ok, how bout this. You can be ecstatic, as long as I get to take more naps. And eat more Dibs."

Despair
"My life is over, and I'm a bad person."
"No, it isn't and no you're not. You just feel like this because you are wallowing in the depths of despair for the time being."
.....
"I'm not really in the depths of despair."
"I know. You're just splashing around in the shallow end. Bobbing for apples of despair."

Acceptance
"I switched my Netflix mailing address to your PO Box."
"Wow. That's like, a big sign of commitment."
"Yeah. Cause letting your frogspawn gnaw on my liver for nine months is nothing. It's really all about the Netflix."

As Found In Substitute Manual:

The following aversive techniques of handling behavior are considered inappropriate and may not be used by agencies in educational programs (PA Code 342.36e):

1. Corporal punishment
2. Punishment for a manifestation of a student's disability
3. Locked rooms, boxes, or other locked structures from which the students cannot readily exit
4. Noxious substances
5. Deprivation of basic human rights, ie. withholding meals, water, or fresh air
6. Serial suspensions (like from the ceiling?)
7. Treatment of a demeaning nature
8. Electric shock
9. Methods implemented by untrained personel

So I guess I'm not allowed to cattle-prod kids through the bars of a dog kennel while spraying them with weed killer, calling them cross-eyed gingers and insulting their shoes... and I'm especially not allowed to let untrained personel do it.

This totally ruins my plans for Thursday.

NEW HAIR!!

Until I get better pictures, taken with my actual camera and not the cell phone, you can see my new hair here. It's not exactly short, but its a lot shorter than I've had it in a long, long time. :-)

I, Bean.

There I was, trotting up and down the stairs with baskets of dirty laundry and clean laundry, vacuuming, doing random household stuff. I was passing by the dining room table for the 194th time that day, minding my own business, when I decided that I just couldn't take the insolent taunting of this saucy bastard one more second:


This device is coin-operated, so I popped the first coin I found (a quarter) into the little slot and twisted the knob. For three crappy jelly beans. Was I being mocked? I pumped a whole quarter in there!! I needed a better solution.



AHA!! I'll screw open the top! Sure, these jelly beans are from sometime before last Easter. And sure, they don't really belong to me. I say, if that 12 year old doesn't properly appreciate the quality of perfectly good 18-month old Jelly Bellies, they are so up for grabs.



Success! Now to tip it over and retrieve the delicious goodness...



Ohnos! The bottom of this thing comes off too! Change and beans everywhere! I'm so busted! (The cats think I am awesome and have done this just for them, btw.)



It's ok. I'll do the time. It was totally worth it.

spreading the FLAgoodness...

Ok, more pics are up, jump for joy!

Back!

Back from Floriday, here are some pictures! (I'll put up the rest tomorrow.)