I Just Can't Walk Away

Sometime yesterday morning/early afternoon, my eye started to hurt. Not all the time or anything, and it was so vague that I mostly thought it was my head starting to hurt right above my eye. Not so. It's my right eye and I keep expecting some bionic part to come out and play anytime I blink. I went to bed shortly after I discovered it was my eye bothering me. I thought the sleep would make it go away.

No. It didn't increase or anything. It's just that when I blink, it hurts. This morning at work I nearly stabbed a customer when they wouldn't hurry the fuck up because my eye was annoying me and this whole not blinking thing was NOT working out and I was getting that crawl out of my skin feeling.

I resisted. Even when I had to wrestle a damn Christmas tree back into its box. It bit me. A lot. I think I'm allergic to the tree, honestly.

Yesterday still sucked. And shit. I just remembered what I'm supposed to have done today. (CD for someone.)

G'ah. I'm cold and I still haven't heard my favorite holiday song yet. :(

^-- From Sat.

Today I add that my teeth hurt. I blame the cold and the fact that my wisdom teeth are horrible, horrible things and that I should have done something about them this year. But I didn't. So when I'm miserable, I have no one else to blame for that.

I had a list of things to do today. I got some of it done. Some of it can/will still be done. But things have not been going my way. The other day we set up our Christmas lights. The year we had No Tree we put up lights all throughout the downstairs of the house. It was so pretty that we kept the tradition up even though now we have trees. (Not real ones, sadly) The other day the boy helped Widget and I put up the lights in the living room. It was lovely until this morning when I plugged them in and saw that a fourth of the main strand had died. WTH, lights. WTH. So I asked Mums to fix it if she could. I wake up this afternoon and my brother pulls down the stand of lights. Fair enough except... I can't suss out how we had it hung up originally and by the time I officially give up fixing them, half the freakin' strand was dead. I don't begin to understand how that happened. Replacement lights, stat!

Anyway. I couldn't put up the tree until the light situation was fixed. And the headboard my brother was supposed to take upstairs a WEEK ago was moved. And the piece of exercise equipment no one uses was moved. And someone vacuumed. I've been waiting a week for these things (lights aside) to happen. Finally I had the Widget help me moved the headboard to the hearth (our fireplace doesn't work anyway) and I waited for it to be moved upstairs. No. Someone moved it even further back and then acted like it was supposed to be there. *rubs forehead in pain because facepalming would be a BAD IDEA*
I did the other stuff and now the Widget is vacuuming and the damn thing still won't get put up before 8pm.

And my teeth still hurt. DAMMIT.

That aside, TRU briefly had most of the Gloom Beach dolls online but I only ordered Cleo. I briefly debated using up most of my emergency dolly fund on them but decided to hope for the best and snag the one I wanted to see most. Also, I really cannot see my mother buying that version of Cleo if she had a choice. So... logic.
^--- Yesterday.

Yesterday (I think), Kanani's, the Girl of the Year for 2011, book covers leaked. Or I saw them and they leaked Sat. Don't care. She looks adorable and if you want to punish your liver, you'll want to take a shot each time someone says that.
( Happy St. Lucia Day! )

Breathe.

Just. Freakin'. Breathe.

Just because the boy says something does not mean it will happen. And just because you do not want it to happen does not mean it might not be a good thing. Somehow.

My Halloween kind of blew. It's strange. My birthday, I fully understand how it never lives up to expectactions. For July 10, I expect people to remember my birthday. I expect a gift or six, and I not so secretly wish that someone would throw me a goddamned party since I, someone who is about a step up from recluse but working my way down every day, have thrown people parties before and for fuck's sake, they threw my mother one once... Um, my point... I had it.

Oh. Yes. Birthdays I set myself up and I know I do.

So by the time Halloween rolls around, I have very low standards.
( Ranting! )
Hate.

Oh new Rainbow Bright, I liked your artwork, but the only thing I can say about your toys is... Fashion Star Fillies? The dolls do nothing for me, although I do support fun colors in hair. Some people love the changes. Some people are appalled. Meh. I lived through her last skinnification and I'll live through this.

Yes. Like a gazillion other girls (kids?) I loved Rainbow back in the day. I had most of the dolls, a big Rainbow, and Starlite still lives in my room.

I would kill for some Brownie Batter ice cream right now. Kill.

Instead, I have one mini Twix bar. Twix is the ninja of all the candy I will eat. Which isn't really a long list.
  Anything with nuts is automatically out because I don't like nuts in my candy. Or ice cream. Or in anything. Ever. I don't mind all nuts which I thought I did for awhile. Then I realized that I only hate most of them. *shrug* So that's out. Anything with coconut is also out because it's gross and makes me all frowny face. How can something that smells SO GOOD taste SO BAD? You should seriously imagine 2nd grade me being really excited about finally trying some and then the look. You know the look. Every kid everywhere has The Look on their face when they try something and it's disgusting but they can't spit it out because they just can't. That's me.

( That was also me. )

You'd better savor that because sadly I became camera kryptonite when I hit third grade. I didn't realize how bad it was til I was in sixth grade. Ever since, you'll be hard pressed to find a picture of me. There's a reason I was the one wielding the camera, love, and it wasn't because I fancied myself a budding photographer. Well, for half a second I did, but I eventually got over that. Mostly. You take enough rolls of film with people's heads cut off, and not all of them were accidents, and you eventually get the idea.

Anyway, back to candy. I'm not a big fan of the fruit-in-chocolate fad that seemed to have gone over big a few years ago. I like fruity candy well enough, but odds are good I'll choose Whoppers over Skittles every damn time. Basically, if it had chocolate and caramel, I was there. So I'll never know why it took me until I was 12 to realize how awesome Twix bars were/are. And ever since, I keep forgetting that I love them until I'm offered one and then I bite into it and I swear, there might be a bit of swoonage going on. Just a little.



And now for something completely different. I dislike it when there's someone who creeps me out in the store and I alert management and nothing happens. I'd even accept an, "I don't feel comfortable asking Grizzly Adams to leave." Instead, I had to stand there and assure other customers (the people from Huddle House) that I was aware that Grizzly there was pretty high on the creep-o-meter and that I had alerted management and that yes, he's totally not allowed in the store, but fuck dude. I'm not a short girl/woman/female type. My work shoes add an inch or two depending on how short I'm feeling that day. He towers over me. He'd tower over me-in-heels. So no. I'm not going to go over there, hold my breath (because even if he hadn't smelled funkalicious before coming into the store, he definitely did after raiding the cos testers.) and tell the dude he knows that I know he's not allowed in the store and to beat it. It's really hard to be polite when someone's trying to warn you that you should be throwing someone else out and you can't do anything else. (We've got these fun signs that tell you that should you suspect a customer of shoplifting, you are to find management and then back off.)

The second part of that whole situation that vexed me? The fact that the guy KNOWS he's not allowed back. He was chucked out by the police the first time and he looks around to see which clerk is on duty before entering the store. And he kept looking at me and I was more than a little unnerved by the stare of DOOM. I'm not eight so I can't say, "Stop looking at me!" Instead I had to bide my time until another manager came in and then told him the condensed version and then waited as Grizzly was escorted out of the store.

And I still feel kind of bad for him because I suspect he's homeless. Only unlike the other homeless guys who occasionally pop in to get out of the heat/rain/weather/buy cigs, he creeps me out. I'd say "he steals" but at least one of the other guys did, too, and the cops would let it slide because he served other nefarious purposes. But he still wasn't creepy.

Siiiiiiiiiiigh.

Drove around the old neighborhood because they've got better decorations. I can still remember hitting most of the houses for trick-or-treating purposes. Still a really pretty neighborhood, although you could see the signs of conform or die. The house with a jungle for a front yard still exists. Most of the homes that used to go all out for Halloween haven't, but others did at least try. My old house was probably the second most decorated home of the ones we saw.

It's so weird to see what they did to the house, but for the first time most of the changes didn't make me want to cry. Other than whatever the fuck they did to the garage. It's covered in ivy and it looks like it's about twenty seconds away from falling apart. They've also got ivy climbing all over the house, but in a way that's obviously deliberate. Mums tsk tsked about how that'll kill your house something awesome. Still. Obviously someone there loves Halloween because they tried.

Tylenol PM is kicking in. I'm having waking dreams of bookcases filled with books. I know what I'll be asking of Santa Claws (yes) for the holidays. Ivy, a bookcase, books... maybe some new shoes.

*yawns*

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO*chokes*ooooooooooooooooooooo*cough*o.

I finished Blood Noir this morning. Finally. If you're curious, it's not as sex filled as most of her more recent stuff, although it's probably about on par with Merry, who hasn't been getting all that much, all things considered. In fact, the two days of fucking we only get to hear about after, and while much is made about it, it's a plot twist and we don't have to read the actual scenes. Hallelujah? Anyway, that's not what the scream was for. The scream wasn't even for the book ending.

It was for my poor, sweet city getting mentioned and thus sullied in one of her later books. :P

In case you want to see my brains on the wall... ( This is what happens when you remove plot, then bad porn, and are forced to rely on your rusty storytelling skills. )

Charleston is now without a Master of the City.

...I'm sure the prepified city is all a front.

...actually, that's where I get a little hazy. On the one hand, cool. On the other hand, considering I nearly died from parts of this book, uncool. Jason doesn't die, things work out, and now I must make sure that the vampires of my sunshiney city don't go apeshit. Fun times.

Little things:
It's taken... however many books, but hearing Richard call the mother of all freakin' darkness "Marmee" is just painful. I know Queen of the Damned was taken and all, but couldn't you find something else to call her?

Anita's thing for just-past jailbait is creepy. Doubley so when commented on by Richard.

A thought: If M. Noir is using Anita, and everyone is well aware of it and even considers taking Anita out so that M. Noir can't fully wake up, you'd think they'd just poison Anita and kill her when they had the first chance. Tell her it'll save all her boytoys and J-C will take good care of them, assuming it doesn't kill him when she croaks, but since she won't take the final marks and people are forever cutting the two of them off, it shouldn't. Kill her.

Was there something in the water to make the latest supernaturally inclined books by various authors have their stars suddenly lose chunks of their memory? Dresden did it, and it's not the first time, it's also similar enough that I must comment. I want to say one of the others I read did it too, but now my memory is hazy...


On the plus side, despite my apparent foaming at the mouth moments above, I lived through Blood Noir and needed it so I could channel my annoyance at something.

November's Offerings


Pullip: Marianne. While the name alone should guarantee her love and a home, it doesn't. I think I actually like her, but I would destroy her in seconds without even meaning to. Also, that's pretty much the only picture I love-love-love, and even then I know she's just too much.

DAL: Charlotte. I love the hair color and the eyes, but again, too much. She's cute, though.

Taeyang: Alberic. He has lovely eyes. Truly. I like the makeup around 'em, too. But no. Just... no.

So, November's safe for me. Which is good, since I just paid off August's. Well.... technically, I'm in the middle of doing that right this second. I can multi task. Yay me.

Today's heroine: zallia

Why do you let me go to Target? I swear, it's physically impossible for me to go there and not spend a small fortune. *grumble*

Let's see, I walked away with the following:

• 2 baskets to sort/organize my crap


• When You Are Engulfed in Flames [I really should have bought this at BAM, but holy Holly, it's hotter than hell out there.]


• a cute crab plate


• cotton balls for mumsy as I cannot, for the life of me, figure out where the hell they moved the ones at work


• Olay body wash that it seems Mumsy likes, so I might be nice and give them that bottle. Might not. It's huge and less than it would cost me for a smaller one at work. We'll see.


• 2 magazine files


• Bratz Baby Nurse Yasmin


• dog food


• TP

And it cost a fortune. *face palm*

I just lost an hour and a half or more of my life to The Andromeda Strain. I like my stuff with a Sci-Fi slant, but swear-to-dog, everytime someone would mention a worm hole and the strain from the FUTURE my head would explode. I do wonder if this was less amusing/better if, I dunno, I'd been watching from the start. Only I couldn't/can't handle the part where people die out in the field and then The Hero would make some comment that would ensure that something awful would happen. Also, when the Skeptic fell to his death, I missed how the other guy [Epileptic Scientist] died because I refused to watch the thumb removal. Sorry, nuh-uh. Not gonna happen.

Also, while I'm sure that if I somehow landed in an alternate reality where someone would need me to go all traitor and risk humanity to save hostage!family members, I'd feel differently, I still cannot fathom the thought process of "hmm, bad guys have my family and if I don't risk the whole of humanity, they'll die. But if I DO go all Judas on everyone, their odds are just as shitty, if not worse." and then picking the kill the entire world to save them option. *headdesk*

God, it's hot up here.

Shame. I found someone who has many a prettiful Pullip picture, but after further investigation, I've realized that while I think the dolls are lovely, I suspect if confronted with the person IRL, I would drop a piano on her head. I don't know how I would rig that, but I really do think I would give it serious thought. In fact, I am at the moment. *muse*

This is me requesting a zillion cookbooks from the library.

This is me slowly going insane due to only leaving the house for work and a weekly grocery store trip, which I loathe beyond all measure. Seriously, the only thing keeping me from screaming about it is that I do get to leave for work, which is more than Mumsy gets to do. [Her weekly trips are to the doctor, for those playing along at home.] Bah. It's chilly up here, but that has more to do with lingering winter morning and tank tops than it actually being cold.

So, a few weeks ago I bought the first four Private books. There was a sale, I had a gift card or something, and it was a boxed set which made it a freakishly good deal. For weeks it sat in my bathroom, unopened and unloved. Friday or so I cracked it open and read the second book. I'd read the first shortly before buying the set, as it's the only one the library has. Anyway, I read books two through four this weekend. ( and my brain sort of exploded )

I obviously have issues with main characters. I almost never like them, or if I do like them, rarely is it more than a bit player. There are exceptions [Harry Dresden, though TV Harry plays second fiddle to TV Bob] but I usually want to slam whoever the star of the series is into a wall.

Awkward sentence, I know.

Completely on a superficial note, the newer covers also seem to be sporting some super skinny waifs. Which isn't to say the first four weren't skinny, but they didn't necessarily look like a good sneeze would snap them in half.

Oooh, obviously the library is ordering new books. When I return I'll have to peek and see if they're getting anything good.

Note to self: Refer to Brunette Delancey as Nolancey as often as humanly possible. Make sigs and avs and hire people to fly over burb's house with flyers that say "Nolancey." Obviously they will litter her neighborhood as they fall from the sky. Duh.

Obviously my resolution to be a better person has failed already. *cackles*

Snagged one of those Growing Up Glam Kennedys that's been littering ebay... because I want that line. I do. You know the minute she appears, I'm going to annoy the hell out of everyone with pictures, yes? Yes, yes you do.

I should go do some dishes. Really, really should. Might in a minute. We'll see.

Behold as I finally succumb to guilt and look at bridesmaid dresses. Again. Sigh. I'm thinking I'd rather gouge my eyes out with a spork than go through this again, but perhaps not. It's just... meh. MEH. Now, to actually do something about losing ten pounds, or shall I just sit here pondering the possibility? I wouldn't mind the second go round of dress shopping if I weren't fairly certain I gained weight since Ari's wedding and the dress and I had issues by the end of the night. So. Yes, the thought of going back to the scene of the crime makes me twitchy.

Fuckity fuck.

But if I ever see or hear the phrase, "I seen" I'll kill someone. Fuckwits.

Obviously, I am in a spectacular mood.

Sooooo, sometime tomorrow, the fun drive to hell shall begin. I'm not actually dreading it as much as I say I am. I figure if I bitch and moan enough, it'll offset the odds that something will go horribly, horribly wrong. I have now jinxed that beyond all possible reason, eh? Oops.

I am vexed. I checked my mail today and there's something from MCR about their Famous Last Words vid premiering yesterday. Only I did the math and they sent that stupid thing maybe an hour before it would have aired. Unfair!

I am also vexed by the fact that the 96wave morning show sucks. It's so lacking in entertainment that I hear them speaking and I immediately turn the station. I'll turn it back ten minutes later and they're still talking. Shut up already! God, I loathe chatting on the radio. I'm firmly in the no talk radio camp, but especially so during the morning when I just want to listen to something recorded after 1983 that doesn't necessarily involve someone singing about how they're gonna love you all night long. [Ick.]

If Mumsy comes home soon, I can get my errands done this morning and then pass the fuck out. I've been so tired lately and I don't know why. I understand on days when I short myself in the sleep department, but I've been better this week, yet I still only find myself waking up for about an hour at work. The rest of the time is spent in a haze. Not even Scrubs therapy is helping. Oh sure, I laugh until it hurts, but the usual effect it has on me [normally, I stay freakishly happy] is gone long before I drag myself upstairs. Hmm. I could spend awhile pondering this, or I could just go stare at the door and wait for Mumsy.

...I'm going to say this and know already that the answer is no, but Christ on a stick, I feel the need to say it anyway.

Dude, am I the only person who, before dropping more than $60 on something, researches it to make sure I know what the hell I'm getting? I will never understand the beyond-newbie questions/thoughts/comments from people who seem to just randomly throw their money to the wind, get a Pullip and are then super shocked when it's exactly what they'd been told it would be...if they'd friggin' bothered to read anything about their newest dolly desire. Sure, there are some questions I might roll my eyes a bit over, but realize that hearing about something is totally different from seeing/feeling. On the other hand, ohmysweetbabyboywholived. Research, people! It's not that hard to find out what kind of body your baby-love will have. The problems with Venus are well documented. [As are staining issues with most of the dolls in black, the first neck-snappers, and some other issues I'm sure exist that my brain is glossing over right now].

It's enough to hurt my cute little head.

Honestly, I want to have enough money that I can buy a new shiny without looking up a damn thing on it.

Speaking of which, I got my next two pinkys yesterday. :D pictures may follow.

[work] With Mr. Bitches gone, we had our first substitute manager begin his week of torment. Fabulous night, actually. I was done with my work by break time. Well before break, actually, so I finished other people's work and then sliced into the boxes of batteries. But somehow no one told the newish guy that one of us leaves at 6. So when exactly he thought I'd be able to take back all the crap he told me to, I dunno. He was ever so confused when I had him paged to the front so I could leave with my bag of stuff. He asked where I was going, and I thought he was kidding. Then I told him home. You know... home. Night shift works 8 hours, man. I was damn near half an hour late leaving because of his request of doom. They don't pay me enough to work 10 hour days. No way.

My ankles hurt and I think a spider bit my left arm while I was sleeping.

Woe is me.

Oh, but I think hell officially froze over. At work we normally get sad love songs or somebody-done-me-wrong songs mixed in with "baby, i'm gonna love you til you can't be loved no more" songs that make me cringe. Usually from the 70's and 80's. Last night? Most of it was semi recent. They played Everclear! I nearly died of joy right then.