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Bookie McBooks:
Today's Etiquette Tip: People in Seattle tend to mumble, and are often assumed to not be speaking at all, which leads to accusations of passive-aggression. Project. It's different than yelling. the Play's the Thing
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It's fun; I'm a selling machine. Would you like to supersize that order of overpriced kitchen accessories? I thought so. It's also killing my back. Truly terrible new pain, in both legs. I am learning my limits, which I thought I had already learned. It has also renewed my already high expectations of proper customer service. I do not easily tolerate a lack of accountability. Among other things. If you haven't bought me a Christmas present yet, you may purchase this for me. I've always wanted an adorable, highly fashionable, Japanese secretary. Remember Jennifer from WKRP? Kitty doesn't take dictation. Kitty doesn't make coffee. Kitty assists me in my Think Tank. My biggest frustration of the moment is this: my brain is swimming with exciting ideas for my writing, both my latest (and excitingly sellable) book project, and several shorter pieces. I'm coming up with ideas for queries and tons of good thoughts to add in to a couple longer pieces I'm working on. And it hurts to sit, and I'm full enough of meds that concentration is difficult. My other biggest frustration: Sweetie got to go see Two Towers at 10 pm on Tuesday for free. I did not. I acted like a freaky toddler when he told me, and am still a little embarassed about how snotty I got. I've been repeatedly mentioning my snotty behavior because it was snotty enough to deserve some sort of public punishment. If you have a small rock with my name on it, now is a good time to throw it. I don't generally share dreams--other people's are usually pretty dumb. But. For this one, I make an exception. This morning, I dreamt I was the second coming of Jesus. For a couple weeks, I had a special training program with Rey Mysterio Jr. and Spider-Man, and was given a cool special superhero outfit directly from God. A bunch of Bad Guys (nameless and faceless --except for the leader, who was sort of a cross betwee Darth Vader and Juice Man, of the Fighting Foodons) came and attacked my little band of Merry Disciples, including Sweetie, Tyler, Malaika, Brothermine, Paul, some weird hippy woman I didn't recognize, the flight nurse who lives in our building, Rey, Brady and Sarah. My mom was around, but she wasn't a disciple. We fought off the bad guys with a combination of D&D weapons--I remember "slow arrows" being a big help-- and my own weird-ass spider-wrestler-jeebiz powers. For a while, some of the Bad Guys had me trapped on a weird railing that they were blasting piece by piece, and I was moving around like Spidey on it. At some point, mom and the hippy woman got trapped in a new VW bug by one Bad Guy. He was dispatched most quickly, by Tyler, with a long-distance sniping rifle-arrow blaster thing. After this big fight, which I was clear on being only the first with more to come, I fed everyone by pulling food off my body. It was lettuce with a light sour-cream type dressing. I handed it to Brady first, sort of embarassed that I was growing lettuce on my arms, and made some ironic joke out of a bible quote on the last supper. He got all mad, like he didn't believe any of this was happening, and stomped off. Sweetie went to go talk to him, and I proceeded to hand out the lettuce to everyone else. Rey said he didn't like dressing; he only liked lettuce with maple syrup, and I apologized for not having any-- then I blew on the lettuce and the dressing disappeared. --The End--- Sweetie says he thinks a lot of people dream they are Jesus; but I didn't exactly dream I was Jesus...I dreamt I was the New Incarnation of Him, in a superhero outfit. Perhaps hit by a radioactive produce truck driven by a fundy Christian trucker? Anyway, when it starts raining frogs, you know who to come talk to. This article in the Post is terrifying. (You'll have to fork over your age and zip code to read it, which is sort of funny...)Does anyone know if there's been some sort of clear definition that can be reached to decide when this "war on terrorism" might ever be over, or is it just "it's over when we say it's over, which is never"? And for those of you with friends or kids of friends or relatives in middle school or high school, you might want to send them this piece from Mother Jones; it appears that individual kids still have the ability to get their names off the list. I hope that some kids get so riled up that they get their whole school to remove their names. The whole idea of "left" and "right" now seems irrelevant. Personally, I'm changing it to "good" and "bad", with "good" meaning "return to checks and balances with active concern for personal liberties, privacy and well-planned environmental protection" and bad meaning "too much power in the hands of one branch, with support for privacy invasion, destruction of unspoiled areas and governing through fear". If there are Republicans out there who think these new rules are equally crazy and are working to stop them, then I'm on their side. Ditto Greens, Libertarians, Democrats, Labor, Socialist, and whatever the name of former Perotians has become. Vive la Difference; Vive la Liberte. This is funny to read, but also...well, maybe just it's just a good time to participate in a cause that won't have you writing to senators who send back annoying form letters. Williams-Sonoma continues to be fun. Friday, my left leg was so fried I couldn't really feel the edges, like when a limb falls asleep so much that you'd say "I can't feel my limb". Normal folks can walk around and shake the limb and blood will circulate and the feeling will go away. I have to take pills and lie down and hope for the best. I made more soap! Have you ever gotten Jill's Soap Factory Soap? You should ask me for soap! I'm freaky-happy about Christmas this year, which is odd--last year, I was ready to move to Saturn to avoid the holiday. Am I so programmed by years of retail that it takes being surrounded by the Industry to make me enjoy myself during holidays? Oh, and-after Thanksgiving in Bellingham, I was shown this site for This Side Down, Tom's cousin Nate's band. You have to love a band whose history starts in Middle School. They could use a little help in the copywriting department, but do listen to the songs and read the lyrics. Hotdog-related puns! Rocking beats! |
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