I am working. Can't leave the desk, so I'm not doing shelves. Can't help patrons 'cause there aren't any. Can't do archives because my box is locked back in the archive room and I don't have the key.
So I'm sitting here at work, debating whether Darren should go to the hospital for his seizure or not, and arguing with myself over whether he should even have a seizure at all.
I did do stuff here today. I reorganized 10 years worth of a newsletter and wrote down which ones were missing for each year. I put them in new folders apart from each other by year and everything.
I also took a painkiller for my back because after all that work my spine was screaming for mercy.
Thunder's booming outside. Fun times getting home tonight.
Anyone who wants to offer advice on the whole Darren seizure issue, be my guest. I am stuck.
Ta,
Bec
PS: Thanks very much to Zach, my Aspie writing friend, for his helpful advice with the seizure issue. He cleared up the matter and so tomorrow I will be able to continue writing.
PS: By the way, on the Gadhafi issue, I think he needs a good Incubus song called "Megalomaniac" blasting in his ear drums, along with Muse's "Take A Bow." Maybe THEN he'll be convinced that his people don't love him but instead want his carcass on a pike.
Otherwise him and Charlie Sheen can make their own Facebook group entitled, "The Adonis Blood Brothers" or something.
I agree he needs to go; I just don't see how any other country can do it without making him a martyr or turning this into a full-scale war. Suppose we'll have to wait and see if the no-fly zone thing with NATO goes through and see how many Libyan aircraft Gadhafi sends up to defy the ban...
Let's just hope someone in his own government comes to hate his ass so much that they off him, huh?
26.2.11
Fundraising Bumps My UK Weekend Fix
I really wish that the PBS channel didn't have to bump my Saturday British TV for fundraising. Watching some woman in a red boa play piano really fast on a Lawrence Welk tribute ain't as fine as watching Armitage blow up buildings with a toothbrush and his fish and chips from lunch.
Sigh. And this is supposed to go on for a month. I'm missing Hyacinth already.
Guess I'll have to find something else to watch.
Ta,
Bec
Sigh. And this is supposed to go on for a month. I'm missing Hyacinth already.
Guess I'll have to find something else to watch.
Ta,
Bec
23.2.11
Farewell, Brigadier
The actor who played a very important Doctor Who companion died today. Nicholas Courtney played Brigadier Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart for quite a few years. He was sort of in charge of the Doctor and kind of was his boss...if the Doctor ever really had a boss. He dealt with quite a few different Doctors, mostly 2, 3, and 4, but they never failed to mention him when the Doctor turned up at UNIT in the last few years.
He also had an awesome mustache and a cool hat and well, the guy put up with the Doctor's exasperating body swaps and mental leaps and general annoyance with the human race.
I'm fairly certain that some part of some script is being rewritten in order to include a tribute to the character, because certainly no one else will ever be able to play him and no one would dare.
I wrote a fanfic; it's a small thing but in my own way I was trying to express my sadness at his passing.
Here, it's small enough I will post it below...
He doesn't go back where he's been, or retrace his steps. He doesn't visit old friends unless he runs into them by accident. And he most certainly doesn't do funerals.
But for this man, old Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart, maybe he can take a moment away from fleeing his own shadow to say farewell.
He stays well away from the mourners at the graveside, not wanting to interfere. Quite a few of his old selves have turned up here and they're all avoiding each other's eyes. It's not a day for small talk and joking around.
It's a rare day in the Doctor's life-a day when he goes back to something. A day when he remembers, a day when he retraces the steps he took with one human along the way.
He does a little salute towards the group of mourners in black, then turns towards the TARDIS and Amy and Rory and back to running away.
I just thought, it would be right if he turned up, probably multiple times thanks to the body switches. Out of all the companions through all the years, Lethbridge-Stewart was the one they always mentioned on purpose in recent stories that dealt with UNIT, always trying to tell you where he was and what he was doing. He was probably the most important companion the Doctor ever had after Romana.
Sleep well, sir. You will be missed.
Ta,
Bec
He also had an awesome mustache and a cool hat and well, the guy put up with the Doctor's exasperating body swaps and mental leaps and general annoyance with the human race.
I'm fairly certain that some part of some script is being rewritten in order to include a tribute to the character, because certainly no one else will ever be able to play him and no one would dare.
I wrote a fanfic; it's a small thing but in my own way I was trying to express my sadness at his passing.
Here, it's small enough I will post it below...
He doesn't go back where he's been, or retrace his steps. He doesn't visit old friends unless he runs into them by accident. And he most certainly doesn't do funerals.
But for this man, old Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart, maybe he can take a moment away from fleeing his own shadow to say farewell.
He stays well away from the mourners at the graveside, not wanting to interfere. Quite a few of his old selves have turned up here and they're all avoiding each other's eyes. It's not a day for small talk and joking around.
It's a rare day in the Doctor's life-a day when he goes back to something. A day when he remembers, a day when he retraces the steps he took with one human along the way.
He does a little salute towards the group of mourners in black, then turns towards the TARDIS and Amy and Rory and back to running away.
I just thought, it would be right if he turned up, probably multiple times thanks to the body switches. Out of all the companions through all the years, Lethbridge-Stewart was the one they always mentioned on purpose in recent stories that dealt with UNIT, always trying to tell you where he was and what he was doing. He was probably the most important companion the Doctor ever had after Romana.
Sleep well, sir. You will be missed.
Ta,
Bec
21.2.11
Prince Within Part 1 Is Actually Coming Along!
So you all want an update on what the hell is going on with Prince Within?
I am happy to oblige.
Here's the gist of the 1st half: Darren is just a normal guy with the name of the singer from Savage Garden (my fault) who is going through the stuff in the attic and finds a bag of his baby stuff upstairs. He takes it downstairs to look at it, as anyone would, and finds an old blanket and some photographs and...what's this? A necklace? With a large C-shaped pendant attached?
He handles it. Things happen. He winds up someplace somewhere in the middle of the spring festival, bumps into the girl of his dreams (and her dad) and someone who is a little too curious as to who he is. The girl of his dreams, sensing danger, takes his bewildered and naive self upstairs and throws him back to where he came from...
And he gets a bump on the head that removes the entirety of that last paragraph's events from his mind.
Part 1 catches up with Darren as he's coping with bad dreams, moping, depression, sleeplessness, and a friend who won't let him die alone in his dark room.
The whole of Part 1 is devoted to getting Darren to recall what the hell happened. Part 2 is him finding out "the rest of the story," as Paul Harvey would put it, and then trying to make the fictional world of Caiomhe a better place for one and all.
Part 2 has seen about twice the amount of effort that Part 1 has, but that's changing. Part 1 is in the forefront of my mind nowadays. At the moment I'm trying to decide whether Darren is going to the hospital or not for his seizure incident (it's his own fault. If he'd stop messing with that pendant his life would be a lot easier...) I have a YES and NO list down in front of me where I'm writing why I should, and alternately, why I shouldn't. However simplistic, this does often help with decisions I have to make regarding the plot.
I've also been working on improving the presence of the drones. These little guys sort of look like Toclafane (DW fans, you know what I'm talking about) save that these things aren't even a smidge human. They are flying spherical robots, probably powered by something Antiphos came up with in his magic shop of horrors. They have taser-like appendages that come out and zap people into submission until someone can come around and pick them up. These guys have probably been on standby for a decade or two, under orders from The Bad Guys to zap Darren/Tiernan the minute he attempts to use the pendant to get home. Of course, that would imply that he would know his own history and be able to figure out how the pendant works...and if someTHING wasn't blocking the signal after the first time he tried to leave the Earth.
That's about it; it's not a complex thing but it hasn't really been worked on since I was around 20 or 21 so it needs a good revamp, and it has to connect with Part 2. I had a problem like that last week when Darren's/Tiernan's mother was running for her life outside someplace in one scene and then dying, but in the other half of the story was falling down dead from a stab wound in her own bedroom. Since both can't coexist, I decided on the former. Much more interesting and I can see the scene in a movie sort of way so that's always a positive.
It's coming along bit by bit; it's a lot of work but if I can work out the wrinkles it'll make Part 2 a breeze to write (yeah. Sure it will.)
Gotta get back to it.
Ta,
Bec
I am happy to oblige.
Here's the gist of the 1st half: Darren is just a normal guy with the name of the singer from Savage Garden (my fault) who is going through the stuff in the attic and finds a bag of his baby stuff upstairs. He takes it downstairs to look at it, as anyone would, and finds an old blanket and some photographs and...what's this? A necklace? With a large C-shaped pendant attached?
He handles it. Things happen. He winds up someplace somewhere in the middle of the spring festival, bumps into the girl of his dreams (and her dad) and someone who is a little too curious as to who he is. The girl of his dreams, sensing danger, takes his bewildered and naive self upstairs and throws him back to where he came from...
And he gets a bump on the head that removes the entirety of that last paragraph's events from his mind.
Part 1 catches up with Darren as he's coping with bad dreams, moping, depression, sleeplessness, and a friend who won't let him die alone in his dark room.
The whole of Part 1 is devoted to getting Darren to recall what the hell happened. Part 2 is him finding out "the rest of the story," as Paul Harvey would put it, and then trying to make the fictional world of Caiomhe a better place for one and all.
Part 2 has seen about twice the amount of effort that Part 1 has, but that's changing. Part 1 is in the forefront of my mind nowadays. At the moment I'm trying to decide whether Darren is going to the hospital or not for his seizure incident (it's his own fault. If he'd stop messing with that pendant his life would be a lot easier...) I have a YES and NO list down in front of me where I'm writing why I should, and alternately, why I shouldn't. However simplistic, this does often help with decisions I have to make regarding the plot.
I've also been working on improving the presence of the drones. These little guys sort of look like Toclafane (DW fans, you know what I'm talking about) save that these things aren't even a smidge human. They are flying spherical robots, probably powered by something Antiphos came up with in his magic shop of horrors. They have taser-like appendages that come out and zap people into submission until someone can come around and pick them up. These guys have probably been on standby for a decade or two, under orders from The Bad Guys to zap Darren/Tiernan the minute he attempts to use the pendant to get home. Of course, that would imply that he would know his own history and be able to figure out how the pendant works...and if someTHING wasn't blocking the signal after the first time he tried to leave the Earth.
That's about it; it's not a complex thing but it hasn't really been worked on since I was around 20 or 21 so it needs a good revamp, and it has to connect with Part 2. I had a problem like that last week when Darren's/Tiernan's mother was running for her life outside someplace in one scene and then dying, but in the other half of the story was falling down dead from a stab wound in her own bedroom. Since both can't coexist, I decided on the former. Much more interesting and I can see the scene in a movie sort of way so that's always a positive.
It's coming along bit by bit; it's a lot of work but if I can work out the wrinkles it'll make Part 2 a breeze to write (yeah. Sure it will.)
Gotta get back to it.
Ta,
Bec
20.2.11
It's My Carpet!!!
Have figured out what was causing my awful skin problems-my carpet.
There I am, on Friday, lying on the floor and talking to my mother, never realizing that 12 hours later I would be itchier than I'd been all week long. Coincidence? I think not. The itch always got worse when I was here and the only explanation is something on the carpet that was irritating my skin.
So to prevent such things occurring again, I can't sit on the carpet for any prolonged length of time without something between me and it or I will be battling an itch I can't get rid of. Already today it's better than it was.
I've solved one problem. Now I can get on with my story and my homework and just generally my life.
Yayness!
Ta,
Bec
There I am, on Friday, lying on the floor and talking to my mother, never realizing that 12 hours later I would be itchier than I'd been all week long. Coincidence? I think not. The itch always got worse when I was here and the only explanation is something on the carpet that was irritating my skin.
So to prevent such things occurring again, I can't sit on the carpet for any prolonged length of time without something between me and it or I will be battling an itch I can't get rid of. Already today it's better than it was.
I've solved one problem. Now I can get on with my story and my homework and just generally my life.
Yayness!
Ta,
Bec
19.2.11
Saturday Morning
Still using the cream. It's working some; I'm still a bit itchy. Hopefully I stop being itchy before the cream runs out or I'm going to be in a world of scratch.
It's Saturday. There is nothing going on. I'm bored.
Dunno what I'll do today. Maybe write some more. I had some good ideas yesterday and will expand on them when the time is right; I'm working on Part 1 at the moment.
Ta,
Bec
It's Saturday. There is nothing going on. I'm bored.
Dunno what I'll do today. Maybe write some more. I had some good ideas yesterday and will expand on them when the time is right; I'm working on Part 1 at the moment.
Ta,
Bec
17.2.11
Can You Hold? I Have To Eat A Biscuit...
So I broke down and went to the doctor today. I have itches. They are going to give me cream for said itches so that my poor forearms can heal.
At work. I am typing. Busy, busy.
Tomorrow's my day off. I have no clue what I will do with it. Maybe I will write.
I am hungry. Might eat that Star Crunchie that's calling to me.
Must go; work to do.
Ta,
Bec
PS: Oh, wow is my ADD light on TODAY, eh, people? I just realized I slid through 5 different topics without slowing down in the span of two minutes. Talk about a race.
At work. I am typing. Busy, busy.
Tomorrow's my day off. I have no clue what I will do with it. Maybe I will write.
I am hungry. Might eat that Star Crunchie that's calling to me.
Must go; work to do.
Ta,
Bec
PS: Oh, wow is my ADD light on TODAY, eh, people? I just realized I slid through 5 different topics without slowing down in the span of two minutes. Talk about a race.
15.2.11
Updating You On Itches, Feet, and Cataloging.
My itch has basically gone away. I'm feeling much better in that regard.
My big toe joint hurts again and since I already had X-rays taken of that foot in December and there was nothing, I would assume that despite the pain every time I take a step that there is nothing wrong. No point in going to a doctor for an aching foot when the aching foot's joint was seen two months ago and they didn't find anything but the bunion that was already there. Why would I waste my time?
Meanwhile, my apartment at the moment is very clean. Now the fumigators will come tomorrow. Wait and see. I have work at 8 AM and have to be out the door at 6, meaning I have to be in bed by 10, 10:30. I'll be tossing pots out of the cupboards at 4 in the morning...
I'm in class. Cataloging is very evil.
I'm working on Prince again. We'll see how much progress I make before I lose patience or have to do homework instead.
Incubus has a new song called "Surface to Air." It is muchly awesome. Go find it on Youtube; every time I put a link up on this blog it blinks out in six months.
I would rather be writing fiction.
The freezer back home died after TWO WEEKS in operation. Mom said the ice cream was running out in streams. She has to cook all the thawed meat now so that it doesn't spoil (she's hoping to re-freeze it for future use after cooking it.)
As a family we have quite a bit of Irish blood, but apparently the gene for Irish luck missed us by miles. Can we get anything that goes right for more than ten minutes?
Oh. Gotta go do this in-class assignment.
Ta,
Bec
My big toe joint hurts again and since I already had X-rays taken of that foot in December and there was nothing, I would assume that despite the pain every time I take a step that there is nothing wrong. No point in going to a doctor for an aching foot when the aching foot's joint was seen two months ago and they didn't find anything but the bunion that was already there. Why would I waste my time?
Meanwhile, my apartment at the moment is very clean. Now the fumigators will come tomorrow. Wait and see. I have work at 8 AM and have to be out the door at 6, meaning I have to be in bed by 10, 10:30. I'll be tossing pots out of the cupboards at 4 in the morning...
I'm in class. Cataloging is very evil.
I'm working on Prince again. We'll see how much progress I make before I lose patience or have to do homework instead.
Incubus has a new song called "Surface to Air." It is muchly awesome. Go find it on Youtube; every time I put a link up on this blog it blinks out in six months.
I would rather be writing fiction.
The freezer back home died after TWO WEEKS in operation. Mom said the ice cream was running out in streams. She has to cook all the thawed meat now so that it doesn't spoil (she's hoping to re-freeze it for future use after cooking it.)
As a family we have quite a bit of Irish blood, but apparently the gene for Irish luck missed us by miles. Can we get anything that goes right for more than ten minutes?
Oh. Gotta go do this in-class assignment.
Ta,
Bec
13.2.11
Muse Win Grammy And Toss Egg in Gaga's Stupid Face.
Muse, congratulations on your Grammy. NOW can I not have to EXPLAIN who Muse are EVERY time I say I'm a fan?
(I still will. NO ONE knows who they ARE! What is WITH people? So busy listening to American shite that you can't be bothered to listen to the BIGGEST BAND IN THE UK RIGHT NOW?)
And congrats to Matt on getting some fashion sense...at least until he got up on stage and wore the shiny suit (Chris, too.) Nice rioters in the front of the stage. Nice FLAMES (loved the flames. They were inspired!) Thought Gaga sucked by comparison. AN EGG?
I am still scratching and I'm going to the doctor on campus tomorrow. I'm either wearing so much lotion I slide out of bed or I scratch holes in my arms. I'll have socks on the hands for a third night in a row so I don't rip myself apart in my sleep.
And it wasn't dish soap that caused it. I haven't touched it in a day and I'm still itching. Mom was supposing the couch might be it. Problem was: I wasn't on the couch at 1 in the morning the other day when I woke up scratching myself and had to practically soak myself in lotion and encase my hands in socks.
Suppose I'll have to get cortisone cream from the school nurse tomorrow. Sigh.
Ta,
Bec
(I still will. NO ONE knows who they ARE! What is WITH people? So busy listening to American shite that you can't be bothered to listen to the BIGGEST BAND IN THE UK RIGHT NOW?)
And congrats to Matt on getting some fashion sense...at least until he got up on stage and wore the shiny suit (Chris, too.) Nice rioters in the front of the stage. Nice FLAMES (loved the flames. They were inspired!) Thought Gaga sucked by comparison. AN EGG?
I am still scratching and I'm going to the doctor on campus tomorrow. I'm either wearing so much lotion I slide out of bed or I scratch holes in my arms. I'll have socks on the hands for a third night in a row so I don't rip myself apart in my sleep.
And it wasn't dish soap that caused it. I haven't touched it in a day and I'm still itching. Mom was supposing the couch might be it. Problem was: I wasn't on the couch at 1 in the morning the other day when I woke up scratching myself and had to practically soak myself in lotion and encase my hands in socks.
Suppose I'll have to get cortisone cream from the school nurse tomorrow. Sigh.
Ta,
Bec
12.2.11
ITCHES
(If you don't want to subconsciously start scratching, stop reading now.)
I have itches. I don't know why. It's been going on for a couple of days. It's mostly on my forearms and hands. I woke up at 1 AM and had to put SOCKS on my hands just to stop myself from tearing my skin off in my sleep.
I have tried every kind of lotion I have in succession trying to stop myself from scratching. Next step is buying cortisone cream and seeing if that works.
I can only hope that I can get to a store tomorrow so I can buy some cream.
I'm starting to wonder what the cause is of this, and the only one I've got is that I bought new dish soap in the last week. But how do you stop using DISHSOAP? I have to wash dishes! I only have one plate!
And dishsoap shouldn't make my FOREARMS itch. I don't put dishsoap on my ELBOWS, for God's sake.
I itch again. More lotion!
Ta,
Bec
I have itches. I don't know why. It's been going on for a couple of days. It's mostly on my forearms and hands. I woke up at 1 AM and had to put SOCKS on my hands just to stop myself from tearing my skin off in my sleep.
I have tried every kind of lotion I have in succession trying to stop myself from scratching. Next step is buying cortisone cream and seeing if that works.
I can only hope that I can get to a store tomorrow so I can buy some cream.
I'm starting to wonder what the cause is of this, and the only one I've got is that I bought new dish soap in the last week. But how do you stop using DISHSOAP? I have to wash dishes! I only have one plate!
And dishsoap shouldn't make my FOREARMS itch. I don't put dishsoap on my ELBOWS, for God's sake.
I itch again. More lotion!
Ta,
Bec
10.2.11
Mubarak Must Go
Okay, usually I keep my writing nose out of politics as it can be a very muddy and smelly place to be, but this time I'm saying something.
Mubarak FINALLY addressing his people after weeks of riots, protests, and blood spilled is an abomination. He HID for three weeks from his own people and refused to step down.
Then today he finally comes out of his hidey-hole only to say he's STILL gonna stick around until September. God forbid he leave and there be rioting and chaos and Molotov...oh. That's already happened even with him in power?
And Suleiman is the same as him. He's a condescending, arrogant bastard and giving him power when he treats his people like stupid children who can't understand him doesn't bode well for the next few days, weeks, or months.
Mubarak, you need to leave. You need to go NOW before your people break into the presidential palace and shoot you on sight. Your military is abandoning you. Your friends are being brought up on corruption charges. Your people are screaming for your resignation. You are a bullheaded stupid old man who loves being in power and wants to be in control.
If you remain, your own people will kill you, and no one will be to blame but yourself.
I'm not Egyptian. I'm not part of this, per se. But even I can see the world would be a better place if Hosni Mubarak wasn't leading part of it.
Anyone else would have quit by now. You are not showing your strength by remaining; you are showing your weakness. And the time has come to end it.
Step down, Mubarak, while you still have a choice.
Bec
Mubarak FINALLY addressing his people after weeks of riots, protests, and blood spilled is an abomination. He HID for three weeks from his own people and refused to step down.
Then today he finally comes out of his hidey-hole only to say he's STILL gonna stick around until September. God forbid he leave and there be rioting and chaos and Molotov...oh. That's already happened even with him in power?
And Suleiman is the same as him. He's a condescending, arrogant bastard and giving him power when he treats his people like stupid children who can't understand him doesn't bode well for the next few days, weeks, or months.
Mubarak, you need to leave. You need to go NOW before your people break into the presidential palace and shoot you on sight. Your military is abandoning you. Your friends are being brought up on corruption charges. Your people are screaming for your resignation. You are a bullheaded stupid old man who loves being in power and wants to be in control.
If you remain, your own people will kill you, and no one will be to blame but yourself.
I'm not Egyptian. I'm not part of this, per se. But even I can see the world would be a better place if Hosni Mubarak wasn't leading part of it.
Anyone else would have quit by now. You are not showing your strength by remaining; you are showing your weakness. And the time has come to end it.
Step down, Mubarak, while you still have a choice.
Bec
8.2.11
The Heat Is Not On
So I forgot to tell you that last weekend when I cooked the veggie pizza crust, I had to do it in my friend's oven because mine is not working. Twenty minutes after it's turned on to 425, it SHOULD be so hot that one cannot grab the rack and hold it without burning oneself.
I could. Hence, I needed a different oven.
I used his and it baked up fine, but the broken oven will need to be fixed. Cue yesterday morning when I called up to get maintenance to fix it.
So I call, and it says on the answering thing that they will CALL you back. They didn't. I went to work and left my phone on vibrate so that if they did I would catch it. Nope. No call.
So I get home last night. There's a note on my counter that maintenance did come in, but the note only says: "Oven not working. Use on-off switch to get oven to work." I initially assume that the note is meant to insult my intelligence and tell me to use the on-off switch (that part actually works. It's the heating bit that doesn't.) Then I notice a little group of numbers that include 11 and today's date.
Due to the vagueness of the note, I assume that those numbers correspond to a time and date when maintenance will return to my place to fix the damn stove.
SO we come to this morning, 11 AM. Nothing. No call, no person. I call at 11:30, getting slightly steamed about this whole business.
She says she'll send out maintenance right away. OK! Progress...
OR NOT. At 1:30, I have to call them AGAIN, asking why no one has turned up from maintenance to fix the stove.
Turns out that they have ordered parts for the stove and will be back soon to fix it for good.
That's great. Wonderful. Peachy. But WHY did it take TWO phone calls to get someone to tell me this? Don't they think this all could have been saved by the original maintenance guy writing a CLEAR note saying HAVE ORDERED PARTS? Three little words! Not so hard!
Or calling? That would have been nice. I gave them my phone number. Not so hard, either.
Likely (as I've stated to other people) the fumigators that do the cupboards and the stove guys will turn up at the same time and both want the space. It's not that big of a kitchen. Someone may have to wait their turn.
Ah, Murphy. Your damn law never fails to come around and try to flip my life like a pancake. All I can do is laugh sometimes.
I will try and update you on the Great Oven Fix and Cupboard Fumigation when they all come rushing in my place to do things to it. Let's hope no one shorts out the electricity (unless they're gonna zap the roaches.)
Ta,
Bec
I could. Hence, I needed a different oven.
I used his and it baked up fine, but the broken oven will need to be fixed. Cue yesterday morning when I called up to get maintenance to fix it.
So I call, and it says on the answering thing that they will CALL you back. They didn't. I went to work and left my phone on vibrate so that if they did I would catch it. Nope. No call.
So I get home last night. There's a note on my counter that maintenance did come in, but the note only says: "Oven not working. Use on-off switch to get oven to work." I initially assume that the note is meant to insult my intelligence and tell me to use the on-off switch (that part actually works. It's the heating bit that doesn't.) Then I notice a little group of numbers that include 11 and today's date.
Due to the vagueness of the note, I assume that those numbers correspond to a time and date when maintenance will return to my place to fix the damn stove.
SO we come to this morning, 11 AM. Nothing. No call, no person. I call at 11:30, getting slightly steamed about this whole business.
She says she'll send out maintenance right away. OK! Progress...
OR NOT. At 1:30, I have to call them AGAIN, asking why no one has turned up from maintenance to fix the stove.
Turns out that they have ordered parts for the stove and will be back soon to fix it for good.
That's great. Wonderful. Peachy. But WHY did it take TWO phone calls to get someone to tell me this? Don't they think this all could have been saved by the original maintenance guy writing a CLEAR note saying HAVE ORDERED PARTS? Three little words! Not so hard!
Or calling? That would have been nice. I gave them my phone number. Not so hard, either.
Likely (as I've stated to other people) the fumigators that do the cupboards and the stove guys will turn up at the same time and both want the space. It's not that big of a kitchen. Someone may have to wait their turn.
Ah, Murphy. Your damn law never fails to come around and try to flip my life like a pancake. All I can do is laugh sometimes.
I will try and update you on the Great Oven Fix and Cupboard Fumigation when they all come rushing in my place to do things to it. Let's hope no one shorts out the electricity (unless they're gonna zap the roaches.)
Ta,
Bec
6.2.11
WE WON WE WON YAY YAY YAY
Packers won the Superbowl. Wish I could have gone to the party but the car decided it was time to die yesterday and according to the guy examining it, it's in BAD shape.
Oh well. Celebrations are in order. We only win once every 15 years or so, so it's a good feeling to be a Packers fan (and I watched all year this year.)
I'm wearing my Rodgers shirt tomorrow despite having worn it Friday and today. I'm going to rejoice, darn it, even if I can't be in Wisconsin celebrating with my fellow Cheeseheads.
WHOO-HOO!
Ta,
Bec
Oh well. Celebrations are in order. We only win once every 15 years or so, so it's a good feeling to be a Packers fan (and I watched all year this year.)
I'm wearing my Rodgers shirt tomorrow despite having worn it Friday and today. I'm going to rejoice, darn it, even if I can't be in Wisconsin celebrating with my fellow Cheeseheads.
WHOO-HOO!
Ta,
Bec
4.2.11
Gluten Free Bread Dough and Secret Bone Spurs
Not much going on with me. Got the Superbowl on Sunday. No body parts going too rogue on me.
Oh, one thing. I have made my first gluten-free crust. Finally. First off, I found out that the food I was making for the Superbowl had to be gluten-free. Okay. Good luck finding crescent roll dough that IS gluten-free...because. there. isn't. any.
So I'm thinking to myself, all right. I'll use something else. But there isn't anything else. Okay. I'll make it from scratch.
HA HA HA HA HA
Because that requires about 20 bucks worth of ingredients ON TOP of what I already had to buy for putting on the crust.
So I bought the gluten-free flour today for about 10 bucks. Couldn't find the xanthan gum. Oh, well. I will find it somewhere.
I get to the second store...and lo and behold, they have gluten-free dough mix with the xanthan mixed in.
Curses.
So I bought that.
And I cooked that up tonight and that's going to be my crust.
After all the rigmarole, this had better be a damn decent crust or little Becky is not going to be happy.
That's about it. I also found out recently that I have interesting medical records. I'm trying to round them all up so that I don't have to spend 15 years explaining my medical history the next time I go to see a doctor.
Turns out I have a bone spur on my distal clavicle (I know that's the collarbone, but I have no idea which side or end it's on yet. I'm still working out distal from proximal. I'm a librarian, NOT a doctor.)
(Ah. It's the end that leans on your shoulder blade, not the end that notches at the base of your neck.)
(And while I figured it was the right one (because that shoulder has always been more trouble than the left) I looked again and it WAS the right one, underneath the collarbone next to the shoulder.)
No one told me about this. I have more damage from the arthritis and no one even told me. How am I supposed to explain my conditions if I don't know the half of what's going on? OI. I had to go order my medical records in order to even find this out.
I can't WAIT to see what my hometown hospital's got on me. They have most of my records, from the day I was born up until last summer. Could be real interesting. I want to see the one from third grade where they didn't tell me about my red blood cells being messed up (I didn't hear about it till I was 16 and was getting sick! Surprise!)
Now the next time I go to the doctor, I will definitely mention the bone spur on my collarbone, along with the stuff I can remember.
I have to get to bed, so night everyone.
Ta,
Bec
Oh, one thing. I have made my first gluten-free crust. Finally. First off, I found out that the food I was making for the Superbowl had to be gluten-free. Okay. Good luck finding crescent roll dough that IS gluten-free...because. there. isn't. any.
So I'm thinking to myself, all right. I'll use something else. But there isn't anything else. Okay. I'll make it from scratch.
HA HA HA HA HA
Because that requires about 20 bucks worth of ingredients ON TOP of what I already had to buy for putting on the crust.
So I bought the gluten-free flour today for about 10 bucks. Couldn't find the xanthan gum. Oh, well. I will find it somewhere.
I get to the second store...and lo and behold, they have gluten-free dough mix with the xanthan mixed in.
Curses.
So I bought that.
And I cooked that up tonight and that's going to be my crust.
After all the rigmarole, this had better be a damn decent crust or little Becky is not going to be happy.
That's about it. I also found out recently that I have interesting medical records. I'm trying to round them all up so that I don't have to spend 15 years explaining my medical history the next time I go to see a doctor.
Turns out I have a bone spur on my distal clavicle (I know that's the collarbone, but I have no idea which side or end it's on yet. I'm still working out distal from proximal. I'm a librarian, NOT a doctor.)
(Ah. It's the end that leans on your shoulder blade, not the end that notches at the base of your neck.)
(And while I figured it was the right one (because that shoulder has always been more trouble than the left) I looked again and it WAS the right one, underneath the collarbone next to the shoulder.)
No one told me about this. I have more damage from the arthritis and no one even told me. How am I supposed to explain my conditions if I don't know the half of what's going on? OI. I had to go order my medical records in order to even find this out.
I can't WAIT to see what my hometown hospital's got on me. They have most of my records, from the day I was born up until last summer. Could be real interesting. I want to see the one from third grade where they didn't tell me about my red blood cells being messed up (I didn't hear about it till I was 16 and was getting sick! Surprise!)
Now the next time I go to the doctor, I will definitely mention the bone spur on my collarbone, along with the stuff I can remember.
I have to get to bed, so night everyone.
Ta,
Bec
1.2.11
You'd Think You'd Learn
9 years of gradeschool.
4 years of high school.
5 years of undergrad.
Almost TWO semesters of grad school.
And you'd THINK, wouldn't you, that someone after all that time being in a classroom would LEARN to DO THEIR HOMEWORK BEFORE IT COMES DUE???
Cue today. Me, in the library, frantically trying to finish TWO assignments for the same class that I had ALLLLLLLL last week to work on. And the weekend.
But NOPE. I sloggled around and played Oblivion and goofed off and muddled about until there I am, with 30 minutes to go till class, dealing with a temperamental computer deciding that now was a good time to turn on nice and slow and make the graduate student explode (yes, the computer was OFF when I got there. There goes my blood pressure up and up and up...)
Of course that would happen. Murphy really hates me when I have homework due in ten minutes.
Oh, I got them done, not as well as I wanted to but they're done. I'm in class now and have work later and have to be up early for work tomorrow.
Mom's planning on coming down in May. I may actually make use of my crockpot!
Cataloging. Someone should have warned me about this one. This is going to be one of those classes like English Theory (and if you've been reading for the last three years you KNOW what Theory was like) where I have to take it but wish I didn't have to and won't remember anything but the pain in my soul when I took it and don't really understand it and probably will never use it for anything but it's a required class? One of THOSE classes. We're learning about MARC!
Gotta pay attention!
Ta,
Bec
4 years of high school.
5 years of undergrad.
Almost TWO semesters of grad school.
And you'd THINK, wouldn't you, that someone after all that time being in a classroom would LEARN to DO THEIR HOMEWORK BEFORE IT COMES DUE???
Cue today. Me, in the library, frantically trying to finish TWO assignments for the same class that I had ALLLLLLLL last week to work on. And the weekend.
But NOPE. I sloggled around and played Oblivion and goofed off and muddled about until there I am, with 30 minutes to go till class, dealing with a temperamental computer deciding that now was a good time to turn on nice and slow and make the graduate student explode (yes, the computer was OFF when I got there. There goes my blood pressure up and up and up...)
Of course that would happen. Murphy really hates me when I have homework due in ten minutes.
Oh, I got them done, not as well as I wanted to but they're done. I'm in class now and have work later and have to be up early for work tomorrow.
Mom's planning on coming down in May. I may actually make use of my crockpot!
Cataloging. Someone should have warned me about this one. This is going to be one of those classes like English Theory (and if you've been reading for the last three years you KNOW what Theory was like) where I have to take it but wish I didn't have to and won't remember anything but the pain in my soul when I took it and don't really understand it and probably will never use it for anything but it's a required class? One of THOSE classes. We're learning about MARC!
Gotta pay attention!
Ta,
Bec
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