January 30, 2005

I'm tired.

And something is poking out, somewhere in my knee, that's not supposed to. I feel like NordicTracking, just to get my metabolism back up, but I don't know if that will make it worse. It feels like my tibia is out of alignment. Will see chiro Tue. He better fix it.

If it ain't one thing, it's another.

Finished the Photomosaics puzzle, though. I didn't time it, but I estimate it took something like 25 hours. A 1000-piece puzzle usually takes me 4-8 hours.

If you ever find the book catch me if you can, on which the DiCaprio/Hanks film was based, get it and read it. Very good.

Eh...

sbt/sbc

Posted by Frida Peeple at 02:47 AM | Comments (0)

January 26, 2005

Less talk! More work!

Blogging may be light over the next couple weeks depending on my overtime schedule. I have a couple nonperishable posts stored up, and I might do some link hunting, which isn't very keyboard-intensive. But too much typing + too much work = numb hands, so I'm gonna err on the side of caution here.

Check in anyway, you never know.

Weird Ones is apparently asking questions using telepathy this week, as there is no text. So here are my answers, given as accurately as my mediumistic talents are capable of.

1. Jesus didn't actually own a Segway. He used rollerblades.

2. Two pens; a jar of something starting with K, M or S; and a miniature Sherman tank.

3. And you may find yourself living in a shotgun shack. And you may find yourself in another part of the world. And--oh wait, that's a Talking Heads song, not a psychic transmission, never mind.

4. Several spotted cows and a particularly beloved tame badger.

5. The bones were buried in the backyard, behind the brick kiln way out back beside the pecan trees. There will be a bright green dress, and I think I see a ring.

Okay, I just made all that shit up. However, if somebody DOES find a body matching that description in a location matching that description...I didn't do it!! It was some drifter or something, and I swear I didn't see him stab her twice.

My teeth hurt, and I think I'm finally getting the flu. It sorta sucks when you're trying to stay away from painkillers. I was at work and thought I had a fever, and I asked one of my co-workers to feel my forehead because we don't have a thermometer in the medicine cabinet. She said it was all cold and clammy, but I felt roasting hot, except for my hands, which were freezing, and to my own touch my forehead felt fairly hot. I don't know what that means, but it doesn't sound like it falls under the category of "good health."

Working 12-hour shifts doesn't help much. Must do a few dishes, then it's off to bed--even if I can't sleep, I'm jolly well gonna lie there and read or do crosswords or something.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Lyric for the day:
made a mistake on a fire escape
in san francisco
worked my way back in a hallway
in l.a.

. . .

somewhere to sleep
somewhere to sleep
somewhere to scrape your body off my feet
put on your black dress
float on your back
too long too late
now i'm gone

--Belly, "White Belly," Star

Posted by Frida Peeple at 09:36 AM | Comments (0)

January 24, 2005

No more to come

Johnny Carson passes on at 79.

~sigh~

We'll miss ya, man.

sbt/sbc

Posted by Frida Peeple at 04:06 AM | Comments (0)

January 21, 2005

no comment

I was informed by the esteemed Rori that comments are nonfunctional. [This would explain the suspicious, though not unwelcome, silence from the spambots recently.] I have contacted the Head Snark, Lisa, and apprised her of the situation. More on this as it develops. In the meantime, if you have anything to say, just e-mail me. [Thanks to Brian for noting the error in the mail link. It's been fixed.]

I get to race a blizzard today. [Appointment--one I'd rather not reschedule.] Think I'll win?

I've had 4 hand injuries, a hurricane of brain farts, and an anxiety attack already in the last 12 hours, so perhaps going out in an impending storm [which may actually not start til this evening] isn't wise. But since when have I been wise? Every damn time I get in the car, I think, "This will be the time I plow into somebody, or some jackoff T-bones me, and that'll be the end. On average, in the Mankato area somebody dies in a car crash every day. Do I get the golden ticket this time?"

Not that a person necessarily has to drive in nasty conditions. [It's moving west to east, not southwest to northeast, and the high will be in the twenties, so freezing rain or sleet probably won't be a danger.] If it's already awful by the time I want to leave, I'll call and reschedule. If I get to town and it's too dangerous to drive by the time my appointment is over, there are hotels and restaurants. That's what MasterCard is for.

I keep feeling like my number is gonna come up really soon. But I've felt like that for years. Does it ever go away?

Must go...family crises await...

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

[Update: Snow bad. Snow very bad. No fuckin' way. Staying home.]

Posted by Frida Peeple at 08:17 AM | Comments (0)

January 20, 2005

What? A Thursday post??

Le Weird. It's late, but that's just because I'm lazy I wanted to let the weirdness ripen for an extra day.

1. Why don't cars use blacklights for their headlights?
They used to be an option, but they outlawed them. The cost of damages from motorists hitting mesmerized Pink Floyd fans got to be too high.

2. At vineyards, do they have signs in their bathrooms saying 'employees must wash feet before returning to work'? Explain?
Yes, they do, but most employees actually only wash their feet if they use them when going to the bathroom.

3. I know what an intern is, but what's an extern?
Somebody who's blown everybody BUT the President.

4. What does the expression 'The hammer never falls far from the spoon' mean?
It means you're out of Haldol.

5. What is a taco bell? Who rings it and why?
It's a special bell you use after eating Mexican food. It's really big, like the Liberty Bell, and you sit by it and ring it really loudly to cover up the rip-raging sound of your flatus. The base is hollow, and you fill it with potpourri. They make portable versions you can wear around your neck, too, so people can hear you coming and get the hell away.

sbt/sbc

Thought for the day: If you're only as old as you feel, then where's my damn Social Security check??

Posted by Frida Peeple at 09:11 AM | Comments (0)

January 19, 2005

uh, yay, I think...sorta

**Warning: Grody Health Stuff Ahead. Comments bleating "TMI" will be publicly laughed at.**

Oh yeah, almost forgot. Had ultrasound Tue. They didn't find anything. No gallstones, no kidney stones, nothing swollen or exploded or out of place. Everything looked perfect [although if you watch the ultrasound as it's being performed, you can tell from the text on the screen what they're looking at, and an ultrasound of a healthy liver is apparently supposed to have big black hole-like spots all over it].

I have, of course, very mixed feelings about this, which can be summarized about like this:

1. Thank gods the radiologist didn't say, "Jesus Christ, look at your [insert name of abdominal organ here]!! We better get you upstairs right away!" Thank gods for no painful stones to pass, no organs to remove, &c. &c.

2. Okay, if everything's fine...then WHY THE HELL DO MY GUTS SWELL UP WHEN I DRINK THE LEAST LITTLE BIT OF BOOZE???

My mom thinks it could be an infection; her gallbladder, when removed, showed scarring from at least seven prior infections. There's also the suspicion of endometrial tissue possibly having migrated that far up my abdominal cavity and latched onto something--not at all unheard of with endometriosis--and it would NOT be easily visible on an ultrasound unless it seriously deformed another organ or made an enormous mass of its own. That would explain why consumption of alcohol [which dilates blood vessels] would cause swelling of the tissue [which is composed almost entirely of blood vessels]; and if it's true, I never ever ever ever EVER EVER EVER want to start menstruating again. Because that shit will bleed along with everything else. Not that anybody will bother to do any tests to find out. They'll just tell me to avoid whatever foods cause swelling, which will mean never drinking again, not even a wine cooler.

I am so glad I am not passing any of these genes on to anybody. This is just fucked up.

Am going to doc on Friday, to see what she thinks...if you're still reading [and not busy throwing up], wish me luck...

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Posted by Frida Peeple at 08:03 PM | Comments (0)

January 16, 2005

1000-Piece Nightmare

Do you like puzzles? Yeah, I'm not sure I do anymore either.

You know those Photomosaics puzzles that are made up of hundreds of tiny little pictures comprising a larger image?

I'm doing one.

Holy shit.

I've done rectangular puzzles, round puzzles, shaped puzzles, glow-in-the-dark puzzles, blurry puzzles, puzzles where all the pieces were almost exactly the same shape [I'm talking about YOU, Encore puzzles, you pieces of shit], 3-D puzzles, 2000-piece puzzles, two 500-piece puzzles at once, and a 1500-piece Millenium Falcon puzzle that was 75% starfield. None of those can compare to the imperious rancor of this...this monstrosity.

It's fun. But only because it's the middle of winter and I don't have balls-all else to do until the rest of my tax documents show up.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Posted by Frida Peeple at 12:20 PM | Comments (0)

uh huh huh huh huh huh.

"Hey Butt-head. Like, I heard they named a lake after you. Heh heh heh heh heh."

"Huh huh huh...cool! Maybe now I'll score."

[Link from Ben Coats, via Dave Barry.]

sbt/sbc

Posted by Frida Peeple at 01:30 AM | Comments (0)

January 14, 2005

Advances in Reflexology

Last night at work, I made a startling discovery--a new acupressure point! I was sitting at my desk, and I went to get up from the chair, and the sharp square corner of the desk-drawer pull serendipitously located the spot.

Knnnnnnnee!

As you can see, this point is on the outside area of the knee. Its precise location is right between the kneecap and the thighbone, and apparently there is a very large and sensitive nerve that runs right through that spot, like a funny bone in your knee.

I had no trouble whatsoever coming up with a name for it. It's called "FFFFUCKFUCKFUCKFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUCKFFFUCKFUCKAWWWWFUCK!!" Catchy, huh? I named it right after I found it.

Anyway, as far as I can tell, all it does is make you limp for a few minutes. That's still useful, though, especially if there's something strenuous that you want to get out of doing. This technique can also be used on people whom you'd rather would stick around and not go too far.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Posted by Frida Peeple at 08:03 AM | Comments (0)

January 12, 2005

omigods I'm so tired

12 hours of work + 4 hours of sleep = seeing 2 of everything.

Nevertheless...

W1's.

1. What would be the best and worst things about waking up one day and finding that you had been turned into a walrus?
Best thing: I wouldn't have to go to work tonight. Worst thing: the prospect of only ever being able to mate with walruses.

2. For whom does the bell toll? More importantly, why does the bell toll?
It tolls for thee, and it tolls because soup's on.

3. What are snakes afraid of?
Richard Simmons.

4. Which is your favorite toe? Why?
The right pinky toe. It's the only one that doesn't hurt right now.

5. Was the movie Gremlins a morality play? Explain.
Yes. It showed that you will turn into something terrible if you snack after midnight. [Hell, look at me...I have lunch after midnight. Case in point.]

sbt/sbc

P.S. New in the sidebar: a great Canadian comic, Liliane, Bi-Dyke. Honest, hilarious and provocative. Not really safe for work, though. Go. [If you're not at work.]

Posted by Frida Peeple at 09:28 AM | Comments (0)

January 11, 2005

too tired to think.

Probably not liver. Most likely gallbladder. Took blood, pee, will give me results as they come in. Ultrasound Tue...no food or drink for 10 hours prior. Somebody will have to drive me. I can't be on the road in that condition, esp. not if it's icy. Perhaps I can make some molasses candy and lick it occasionally to keep blood glucose up.

TMI? Too goddamn bad.

zzzzzzzzzzzz...

Posted by Frida Peeple at 02:14 PM | Comments (0)

January 08, 2005

This has been bothering me.

They say that learning to play a musical instrument is great for your math skills. If that's so, why is it that every time you turn on VH1's "Behind the Music," some great musical talent has farted through $5 million in a year and a half? Perhaps skills such as being able to understand your own credit card bills or making a budget are stored in a different part of the brain than other math skills. [That would depend, in some cases, on whether the ass is part of the brain or not. Based on my observations of humans, that's becoming an increasingly credible hypothesis.]

The other thing that's been bothering me is the fact that one wine cooler or other alcoholic beverage will leave my liver inflamed for 24-48 hours. I know it's my liver because it only happens after I drink, it occurs on the right side of my body below my ribcage, and when I bend over it feels as though my rib is squishing something that is not usually in the way. I don't think that's normal. I could understand an inflamed liver from 1 case of wine coolers, or from 1 fifth of bourbon, but not from 1 B&J Strawberry Daiquiri [which is very tasty, by the way...it's like drinking soda and not at all like paint thinner]--time to go get blood taken.

grrrrrrrr.

sbt/sbc

Posted by Frida Peeple at 03:51 PM | Comments (0)

January 07, 2005

brief Friday afternoon gripe--er, update

So, it wasn't enough that the store, again, stopped carrying something I like. This time it was frozen ravioli, which I'd really been looking forward to having today. This will be one less thing I can get here in town and one more thing I will have to get out of town. I looked all over the store for something quick that I could just pop into the microwave or just quickly throw on the stove and eat, and that wasn't full of MSG and other junk that would make me crazy. I left with two packages of boneless chicken breast, one of which ended up steamed. [Steamed chicken breast chopped up with a little organic ranch dressing on it makes a good heat-up-and-eat-it-with-a-toothpick snack.]

It also wasn't enough that the post office, the clinic, and my folks' neighbour all have lovely ice skating rinks outside their buildings due to their apparent inability to master the use of sand, salt or ice chippers. [I suspect that the clinic, in an effort to drum up business, deliberately leaves a thick coating of glare ice on its sidewalk, and possibly offers reduced prices to the neighbour and the PO employees in exchange for leaving their injury traps intact.]

It also wasn't enough that the post office had no tax forms and I had to print them out [and that I left the instructions for filling them out at my mom's, on a diskette].

Now, after my drink and my chicken, I am listening to the plow, which is clearing some of the brown cakey snow* off the streets. I swear on my life it sounds exactly like Optimus Prime, having taken a crap, is dragging his ass down the street to clean it.

It's been a long morning.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...
__________
*It's said that the Inuit have a plethora of words for snow. This is true also of Minnesotans, who have several dozen words for snow, most of them comparing it to one or another form of excrescence, and many of which cannot be said on network television.

Posted by Frida Peeple at 02:47 PM | Comments (0)

Just wondering a few things...

such as:

~Are they ever gonna be done counting dead people?

~Robert Blake may or may not have killed his wife--I try [don't always succeed, but try] to assume innocence until proven guilty--but is a lack of tears necessarily an indication of an insincere grief response, as claimed by the cop who informed Blake of his wife's death? I don't think that cop can have been through a lot in his life if he can't conceive of grief too great for tears. [You can tell they're trying to convict him in the papers, because the headline blabs about the cop's testimony, but doesn't mention the cross-examination in which Blake was revealed to have already shed tears prior to the policeman's arrival; this is given the briefest of mentions about halfway through the article, sort of as an afterthought. Apparently the defense attorney was the only person who remembered that people can cry themselves out.] Let's face it, we'd all like to see him convicted because it would be just like one of those episodes of "Columbo" where the famous actor commits the almost-perfect crime and then is caught in the end, money can't trump justice, yadda yadda. And if he's guilty, fine, put him in jail. But articles like that are just misleading. And in the end, you weren't there, I wasn't there, and that's why we have trials. Do they work? Not all the time. You got a better solution? We could go back to the days when you just said "So and so did it" and hanged the person, but that only works until somebody decides to accuse you of something, whether you did anything or not. Then it's not fun anymore.

~On a lighter note, here's another thing I was wondering: Is caffeine really this addictive? Is this why I have trouble kicking it?

~Can we be sure this lady even has a twin sister? Or did she just go to the DMV and get two driver's licenses so she would only have to pay half the tickets?

~Speaking of twins, has anybody else ever heard of a double uterus? Because this is the first I've ever heard of one. And what would it look like? And does she get her period twice? I can't imagine the amount of Pamprin this poor lady must go through every month. She must buy Always [or whatever brand they have in Romania] by the case.

This is Frida Peeple, bringing you All The News I Have The Stomach To Look At Today™.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Quote for the day: "When I burp the alphabet, my favourite letter is G. It is an open consonant and it is at the beginning when my wind is strong....My worst letter is S. It is a closed consonant and at the end when I am out of wind."--Ashlee Simpson, on her unique talent [no, you know perfectly well it's not singing]

Posted by Frida Peeple at 07:56 AM | Comments (0)

January 05, 2005

Just...plain...

weird.

1. Why do people put garden gnomes, lawn jockeys, and pink flamingos in their yard? Also how can you tell high quality garden gnomes from run of the mill garden gnomes?
They do it because they're stupid. The best garden gnomes come from Germany or Switzerland. Avoid the ones that say "Made in the People's Republic of China." Some garden gnomes will try to convince you they're better by flashing a union card. Don't be fooled. They're twice as expensive, they stand around just as much as non-union garden gnomes, if not more, plus they get triple time if you forget to take them off your lawn on Sundays and holidays.

2. Is there a cure for love? If so, what is it?
Yes. It's called stealing your spouse's credit cards and maxing them out at a brothel.

3. Do chickens have belly bellons? How do you know?
What the hell's a belly bellon? Is that like a belly button? Until scientists figure this out, this question must remain unanswered.

4. Why does heat rise? Where does it think it's going anyway? Is cold afraid of heights?
Heat rises because it's getting the hell away from humanity. Cold descends because it's trying to burrow into the ground, also to get the hell away from humanity. See? Heat and cold aren't so stupid after all. [This is the kind of answer I tend to give when there is completely inexplicable construction going on in the next apartment and downstairs.]

5. Why don't ducks use pillows? Why don't cows use sofas?
Same reason pigs don't play football and sheep don't use condoms.

sbt/sbc

Posted by Frida Peeple at 11:30 AM | Comments (0)

January 04, 2005

Go see this.

Shiori Matsumoto. Even if you can't read a word of Japanese, the paintings are great.

Link from EBC, which always has the best art links.

sbt/sbc

Posted by Frida Peeple at 03:23 PM | Comments (0)

Witches...

Weekly.

Do you have any Winter Solstice traditions?
I usually put up a wreath, tree and/or lights [this year it was a wreath and lights, didn't feel like looking for a space for the tree], and I generally do a circle.

How do you feel about the more secular form of the holiday, with presents and Santa Claus?
It's fine, I do all that too. It's nice to share holidays with other people, and presents are always fun. I tend to think of Santa as an anthropomorphization of the spirit of generosity.

What is one thing that is etched into your memory about this recent holiday season?
The way I totally fumbled the ball with my family.

sbt/sbc.

Posted by Frida Peeple at 06:51 AM | Comments (0)

Fun With Tags

Wheeeee, scrolling text!

Wheeeee, scrolling red text! In italics!

Man, I'm goofy.

sbt/sbc

Posted by Frida Peeple at 06:10 AM | Comments (0)

January 03, 2005

You knew I would.

I folded. Damn strawberry daiquiri wine coolers.

Boy, let me tell you something: If you ever start feeling like your prayers are getting stale and uninspired, try driving down a four-lane covered in glare ice with your tires caked with snow and no 4-wheel drive. I did more invoking than the Pope.

On the way downtown I hit some nasty shit, almost went into the next lane, and then almost went up on the curb. Then at the clinic, which some damn genius decided to put at the top of a steep hill, the car [V6, front wheel drive, go fig] damn near slid down the generous coating of glare ice that Mother Nature saw fit to strew on the clinic driveway [which has a grade of about 30° and which was sprinkled with what looked like two handfuls of sand], and I gave up about halfway up and turned into what I hoped were parking spaces along the side of the hill. Amazingly, my blood pressure was 118/80. I expected at least 130's. And you better believe I got my shot. I wouldn't have gone through all that for anything else. If I didn't NEED my shot, I would have gotten one, in a doggy bag to take home and administer later, if necessary.

You see, it's like this: This is Minnesota. I don't know what we did, maybe it was shooting too many mountain lions or something, but Gaea is trying to kill us off. We have had exactly 3 snows this winter [at least the ones where it snowed enough to count--that's probably about half the amount we usually get by this time], and 2 of them have been immediately preceded by the other S-word, even more fearsome, sleet. Of course, if it sleets and then melts, that's fine. But it doesn't do that here. It sleets, then snows, then drops to about 8°F and stays there. Gaea's theory is apparently this: If she can't produce enough actual snow to bury everybody up to their ass and cause cars to plow into giant suffocating drifts, she's jolly well gonna produce enough ice to make sure somebody dies. Enough ice, that is, except on the lakes, where natural selection takes the form of stupid ice fishermen who drill holes and place icehouses ten feet from open water, in areas so thin their dogs won't walk on it. A lady I work with said that she knows a guy who's dragged up two icehouses with his boat in the last year. Usually nobody dies til January. Then we get a couple drownings, either ice fishermen or people who try to drive across a lake, and everybody else wises up for the rest of the winter. Next winter, it's a whole new ballgame with a whole new batch of idiots.

Anyway. So then I almost slid through two intersections. Immediately after that, I heard somebody right behind me tapping their siren, and I thought, "Oh shit, I'm being pulled over." But it was an ambulance that wanted to get by, so I had to go about half a block [downtown, diagonal parking, the first half of the block was completely parked up] and pull in so he could get by. It was right next to where I wanted to go anyway, which was the music store, where I lied about wanting some lesson books for my niece to cover up the fact that I can't fucking read music at gunpoint. So I got a beginning guitar book, a beginning musicianship book, and the Tori Amos Anthology, which has many photos along with piano, vocal and guitar chords for 25 songs. And a pick. Always gotta get an extra pick.

The funny thing about praying is, sometimes it pays off. The Lady sent me succor in the form of a sand truck that pulled in directly ahead of me and stayed there most of the way to the grocery store. I sang happy praises to the Sand Man and followed him just about to Hy-Vee. I was granted further succor in the form of 20-oz. packages of ground turkey at $1.99 and a sale on bagged washed spinach [no grit, yay!].

Bad thing about buying fire extinguishers and CO detectors at the hardware store: MallWart has them cheaper. Good thing: You're not giving any money to MallWart. I really wanted two extinguishers, so I got the second one at the Wart [the hardware people only had one], and I figured it was worth the extra few bucks to know they weren't getting THAT $30 of my money, even if I'm too poor to buy my shampoo anywhere else.

Good thing about parking brakes: They're very useful for when the hardware store parking lot is solid glare ice and slopes downward toward the street. Bad thing about parking brakes: If you don't use them often, you end up looking like a total doofus when you do use them. Case in point, this dumb blonde forgetting to turn the engine on before taking it out of park, and then wondering why it wouldn't go anywhere and the parking brake wouldn't disengage.

I don't know what they're still thumping on down there, but I wish they'd quit. If they have to make noise, please let it be because a pipe broke, the ceiling fell down, and they're going to replace it all with acoustical tile and soundproof insulation. Please, please, please. So I don't have to move or burn the place down.

Oh, and if you wait to scrape off your car until the hardware store in town opens, you can usually get enough extension cord to run your hair-dryer from your apartment out to your car [after making a VERY VERY ILLEGAL DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME open-door pullout from the parking lot out onto the street, with two hand-sized clear spots on the windshield and the rest of the glass looking like somebody's shower door] so that you can blow-dry your windows enough so the rime ice will come off. Because if you wait for the car to get warm enough on its own, you will run out of gas about 100 feet down the road, and if you try to scrape rime ice off of frozen windows, you will not be able to move your arms the next day. This I know. So. Get a hair dryer and a lot of extension cords. And remember that once the rime ice [or the ice on your gloves, or the ice on the sidewalk, for that matter] melts, it will conduct electricity.

Yes, that's completely insane and probably illegal in several ways. But for my Depo, I will brave anything.

I'm going to bed.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Lyric for the day:
oh Mr. Sandman
bring me some sand
so I don't get in an accident
and lose a hand...

--Me, today, on the road.

Posted by Frida Peeple at 03:25 PM | Comments (0)

January 02, 2005

some kind of end of the year meme...

...from Belicove.

1. What did you do in 2004 that you'd never done before?
Learned to swim.

2. Did you keep your new years' resolutions for 2004?
That was easy. I didn't make any.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Unless one of the office staff [to whom I say "hi" every morning] counts as "close," then no. I try to encourage people to avail themselves of birth control.

4. Did anyone close to you die?
Nope.

5. What countries did you visit in 2004?
None. I visited the state of near mental collapse several times, though.

6. What would you like to have in 2005 that you lacked in 2004?
A car that's less than a decade old, a house/apartment that's not in danger of burning down, more than 2 consecutive months where it's actually reasonably quiet, a close friend that was actually available to do things with.

7. What date(s) from 2004 will remain etched upon your memory?
I don't remember dates unless I write them down. I'd make a terrible trial witness.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Learning to swim.

9. What was your biggest failure?
I don't have failures, only works in progress.

10. What was the best thing you bought in 2004?
I don't rank things like that. It's just stuff, for pity's sake.

11. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Nobody I know. Who do you hang out with that they did something to merit a celebration? The most anybody's behaviour merited, that I can think of, is a "Thank gods you stopped doing that, it was really aggravating."

12. What did you get really, really, really excited about in 2004?
The possibility of Bush getting ousted, which didn't happen. Although I think that might have been just one or two "really"s. I don't get excited about much of anything anymore. I think it's the medication.

13. What song will always remind you of 2004?
I won't know that for several years.

14. Compared to this time last year, are you happier or sadder? Thinner or fatter? Richer or poorer?
Same in all three categories, I think. I don't remember last January too well.

15. What do you wish you'd done more of in 2004?
Overtime and possibly exercise [depending on how it would have affected my back & knees--it might not have been a good thing to do more than I did].

16. What do you wish you'd done less of?
Screaming, eating, and sitting in chatrooms.

17. What were your favorite TV programs in 2004?
None. I don't have TV.

18. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
I really don't like to say I hate my oldest brother, but boy, it's damn close. I never liked him, though...it's just that this was the year I stopped lying to myself about it. I've also developed a healthily festering animosity for people who IM me asking for my a/s/l.

19. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2004?
I'm decent, it's comfy, and it attracts as little male attention as possible. [To men who ask, "what's the matter with lots of male attention?" I say: You flatter yourself. If it were platonic, intellectual attention, that would be a different story. But it almost never is, so don't piss on my leg and tell me it's raining.]

20. Who kept you sane in 2004?
Nobody. I'm not sane.

all right, that's that...

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Posted by Frida Peeple at 01:03 PM | Comments (0)

miscalculation

Well, fantastic. The one person in the family I'm still talking to will not e-mail me back.

Time for a new family.

I'm starting to think I made a gigantic unrectifiable mistake, but I haven't figured out quite where. I don't see how I could have done things any differently without perpetuating an endless grueling cycle of screaming.

No, I am not taking suggestions. You wanna give advice, start a column.

I can't remember when I've been this heartbroken.

Posted by Frida Peeple at 12:31 PM | Comments (0)

interesting pagan calendar tidbit

A lot of what I hear about the Neopagan calendar leads me to believe that they swiped it from the Celtic calendar, and that other pre-Christians in Europe may not have used that calendar. So I came to assume it was just a Celtic pagan thing that had got imposed on all Neopaganism for some arbitrary reason.

Til I saw the Latvian calendar.

The seasons and holidays correspond pretty closely to the "standard" pagan calendar. The festivals have different names, but then they would...Latvia's practically in Russia.

So there.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Posted by Frida Peeple at 04:16 AM | Comments (0)

January 01, 2005

better late than never

Witches Weekly, and only 8 days late, too.

1. Do you celebrate or mark the sabbats and esbats of the Wheel of the Year in any way? All, just some, or none? Why or why not?
More or less. Depends on how ambitious I feel.

2. If you don't follow the Wheel of the Year at all, do you follow some other calendar, OR are there days or periods that you celebrate or mark in some way that are not part of the modern Wheel of the Year?
Doesn't apply, cos I just said I do follow it. However, I'll generally celebrate the sort of holidays other Americans celebrate, just not with the Christian overtones. I like chocolate eggs and candy canes as much as the next person. It's really my only chance to have a holiday that other people participate in.

3. If you were to create The Official Witches' Holiday, when, what, why and how...?
Oh, come on. Can you imagine the kind of squabbling it would produce if I were to try and pick one holiday? We can't even agree how the hell to spell "magic."

***

I just wanna say something for all the medical personnel out there. If you decided to close your clinic on 31 Dec because it's "New Year's Eve," even though your clinic would already be closed long before any New Year's parties would start [and the last couple years I've come to see New Year's, or Put Up A New Calendar Day, as increasingly arbitrary and sorta stupid], and if it has resulted in anybody who NEEDED THEIR DAMN DEPO [like me] REALLY REALLY BAD not actually getting their Depo until several days later, then you officially suck hyenas. I wish you many ugly malpractice suits in the coming calendar year.

sbt/sbc

Posted by Frida Peeple at 07:46 PM | Comments (0)

Title assigned solely for sidebar purposes.

I told her not to e-mail me, and she hasn't tried. I don't intend to fold. I may bawl my eyes out, feel completely desolate, and intermittently wish for a sudden heart attack to take me out, but I have no intention of folding. No more fights.

I don't know what the hell I'm gonna do.

Posted by Frida Peeple at 12:38 PM

Flappy New Year...

for all you non-pagans who celebrate New Year's on Put Up A Different Calendar Day instead of Samhain.

I just broke up with my mom. Again. The worst thing ever bestowed on the human race is the ability to have loving, fulfilling relationships with people who just make you want to gouge your own eyes out. Hopefully this time I won't come crawling back, and if I try, she won't take me. I keep trying to get her to give up and not take me, but it never works. This is reason #189 I do not want to be a mother. Your maternal feelings get in the way of ending toxic relationships. That should never happen.

There are no comments on this entry. Comments left elsewhere regarding this entry will be deleted. I do not need more of the "you have issues, you need therapy, dysfunctional yadda yadda" horse douche. I already encountered that while looking for a sympathetic ear to help me decide whether I should do this or not. None of you are sympathetic, and whatever you have to say about this, I don't want to hear it. Ever. Not even "hope it all works out for you." PUKE! Go comment on something else, if you must say something.

same bitch time, same bitch channel.

Posted by Frida Peeple at 02:18 AM