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I had all this anticipation about my project implementing today, and now it's delayed until tomorrow. It's left me feeling a little deflated.
I'm grateful that Calvin is such a hard worker and good provider.
There's a fly buzzing around my cubicle that seems to be determined to get into my salad. But, who knew that garbanzo beans, goldfish crackers, and light italian dressing were a taste sensation when combined?
Stupid jokes that we told (and thought were funny!) in the sixth grade, courtesy of TUS.
"I'm tweaking
onto a whole new level.
G-Funk step to this
I dare ya.
Funk
on a whole new level.
The rhythm is the bass and the bass is the treble"
"Regulate" by G Warren (on the Gangsta mix CD in the truck!)
2003 - The second Hawaii entry.
2002 - No entry, on our honeymoon!
2001 - All about our camping trip to Big Lake.
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July 7, 2004
Vodka = Ow
I was all ready and a-rarin' to go this morning, to put the project I've been working on for the past seven months into beta release. Then a scheduling conflict with the automation guys caused them to request that we implement tomorrow instead of today. So! I'd cleared my calendar in order to be on-hand in case of any issues, and now find myself with idle hands by lunch. I've done all the duck-rowing I can do, there's nothing left but to turn this thing on and see if it breaks anything.
I did have a couple of meetings to attend for another project I'm working on - we're all supposed to be grown-ups around here, so it still surprises me when people get into yelling matches in a meeting. It doesn't happen all that often, really, which I guess could be surprising considering the amount of pressure and stress we're all constantly under. So, I left a couple of ladies dukeing it out, to the tune of, "No, you're not listening again, Harriett!" Back at my desk, I sent off an e-mail with a document attached that I hope settles their argument. More meetings tomorrow, and a two day face-to-face next week, so we shall see.
But enough of the work stuff. The rest of the holiday weekend went very nicely, as I'd hoped. I spent the remainder of Saturday sun-bathing and bubble-bathing. When Calvin got home we got cleaned up and met the guy he's working on this project with, over at Patsy Grimaldi's. It still has, as can be expected, the BEST pizza on the planet. So we ate, and visited, and called it a somewhat early night at about 9:00.
Unfortunately, the next morning (the 4th) Calvin had to go back to work to finish up what they didn't get to the day before. I got up around 9:00, read for a bit, and was on the internet looking up recipes when Calvin got back home shortly before noon. I panted away on the elliptical for a half-hour while watching "Tomb Raider II" on the itty baby TV in the workout room, cooled off for a bit, then laid out in the sun for a half an hour to continue with the de-whitening efforts. Then a shower, and Calvin and I ran Marie to work.
After we dropped Marie off, we went to Teakwoods (it's very strange to look for a website for a place and *not* find one these days, but they don't seem to have one) for some wings, beer, shots, and nachos (a half order at this place is the size of a trencher). Yeah, baby, that's how we celebrate our independence! We've been going to this place for years, and are familiar with much of the wait staff. One waiter in particular makes an effort to say hello when we stop in, and we conversed with him extensively about the drugs he's on. For his back, people. Calvin and I got decidedly more and more giggly (well, okay, I giggled) as time went on and the beer and shots went down. Calvin makes me laugh until my sides hurt, almost every day. Even when I'm not under the influence. Now that's special, right there.
(Which reminds me. As an aside: ever since re-watching the Blue Collar Comedy Tour a couple of weeks ago, we've been working the bits into general conversation as much as possible. To the tune of, "I don't care who you are, that's funny right there." And, "Yes sir/ma'am, you are welcome." And, "Oh, now, that wasn't right. Lord, I apologize for what I said right there, and God bless the starving pygmies in New Guinea." And, of course, "Git 'er done!")
At any rate, we rolled out of Teakwoods after a couple of hours, absolutely stuffed to the gills, and in my case, buzzing to beat Jesus (though I think He would win in a drinking contest). (Lord, I apologize for what I said right there...) We got home and did... some things... and... some other things... and had a jolly good time of it, too, by God. Which brought us to 10:00, at which point someone snuck up behind me and hit me over the head with a ball pien hammer. I think (I think?) I got up at about midnight, stumbled into the living room, found Calvin watching TV, and said something along the lines of, "Garflem figle guh?" which he accurately translated as, "Where's Marie?" Someone was supposed to have picked her up from work, and I had a sneaking suspicion that someone was one of us. But she had gotten a ride and Calvin was just waiting up to make sure she got home okay, so I staggered back to bed.
See? We have a good working policy - one parent is sober at all times.
Ow. Monday morning. Ow. Note to self: vodka = ow.
The absolutely only thing we did yesterday was sit on the couch and watch FOUR movies. "Spartan" (it was okay - I've always been of two minds about Val Kilmer), "Barbershop II" (zzzz), "Perfect Score" (surprisingly good, with a couple of good "guffaw!" moments"), and "Touching the Void" (brrr... what a hell of a story). Last night as we went to bed, Calvin snuggled up to me, threw his leg over mine, and pressed his face into my hair saying, "I need to be able to be just like this whenever I want."
Aww.
I leave in a few minutes to take Marie and myself over to my hairdresser for a much needed trim. I mentioned this to my girlfriend Dani this morning while stopping in for a quick visit at her desk, and she looked consternated. Some weird questioning ("What are you having done? Just a trim, right? Not a coloring, or nails, or anything like that, right?") leads me to believe she's planning something for my birthday. My friends spoil me to DEATH, people. To DEATH.
I have my annual physical scheduled over the next two weeks. The office I go to does two appointments - one for blood work and a general once-over, and one a week later to go over the bloodwork results, and to do the girly stuff that's just so Fun And Exciting! So, yippee. The crap I go through just to get a refill prescription on my birth control pills. I can't eat past nine tonight (I don't usually, anyway, but I GUARANTEE I'm gonna want a cookie at 9:05, just because I can't have one). Tomorrow, I get to get stuck with needles and then breathe into an aspirator and have them tell me, "Hey! You have asthma!" "Gee, didn't know! I thought EVERYONE felt like they breathe through a straw!" Swear to God, they act surprised every time. Even though folks only do the aspirator test if they actually have asthma, or some other lung problem. What, do they think I've been faking it all this time? Looking for attention? Like I'm addicted to the taste of albuterol or something? Yeesh.
Also, I get my wisdom teeth pulled on Friday. Commence with the freaking out. There's just too much medical bullshit going on with me in a short period of time.
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