Yay...Blue Raspberry Lip Balm...

...in the jumbo-sized, metallic purple tube from Naturistics. That's what I'm talking about.

And purple nail polish. Deep metallic purple. Chipping off.

And lo! A metallic purple crochet hook.

Yeah. Coincidence? I think so.

But seriously, it is.

And I learned how to crochet a granny square afghan or somesuch tonight. And Kaufman's Wedding World called me for a job interview. And I've got pepperjack cheese.

This entry brought to you by the people who make metallic purple stuff. And by the color metallic purple.

To The Lovers, The Deamers And Brothers Of Alpha Phi Omega.....

The Rainbow Connection

Why are there so many songs about rainbows
And what's on the other side?
Rainbows are visions, but only illusions
And rainbows have nothing to hide
So we've been told, and some choose to believe it
I know they're wrong, wait and see
Someday we'll find it, the Rainbow Connection
The lovers, the dreamers, and me.

Who said that ev'ry wish would be heard and answered
When wished on the morning star?
Somebody thought of that, and someone believed it
Look what it's done so far.
What's so amazing that keeps us star gazing
And what do we think we might see?
Someday we'll find it, the Rainbow Connection
The lovers, the dreamers, and me
All of us under its spell,
We know that it's probably magic.

Have you been half asleep and heard voices?
I've heard them calling my name
Is this the sweet sound that calls the young sailors
I know it's one and the same
I've heard it too many times to ignore it
It's something that I'm s'posed to be
Someday we'll find it, the Rainbow Connection
The lovers, the dreamers, and me.

Just a Note To penguinicity...

...seeing as I won't be at Nationals in a few weeks, we're gonna have to postpone the copious ass-kickings that I owe you.

*Scream*

You know there's something wrong when you sign onto Instant messenger, go to type "Good Morning" and type "Good Moron" instead...

'Scuse me while I bang my head against this-here brick wall.

I woke up to the ever-lovely sound of Chelle screaming because someone ate her box of cinnamon toast crunch. I had one bowl. She says I owe her a new box. Let's review....

I babysit her child 3-4 (often more) days a week. She never pays me, though she always offers to. I might get 10 bucks from her every 3-4 weeks, and I have to fight her for that. Yesterday, she woke me up when someone was on the way to pick her up for work, saying she needed me to babysit, mom was sleeping, Mike was going for a job interview. Nevermind that I'd had plans for the day, but she just decided she HAD to leave 2 hours early to buy some fabric (from the same store where she works) Stuff like this happens several tiems a week, she gets bitchy when I don't want to babysit, yet if I dare to ask her for the smallest thing (Like to return my green sweatshirt that she's been wearing for weeks now...I'll wash it myself if she just gives te damned thing back) she screams and bitches at me about it.

But I eat one bowl of cereal (When there are 3 more boxes in the hall closet) And I owe her an entire box?


Wow, I've really missed something. Must be the new math.

Oh, and around 3 this morning, she sat there for 15 minutes begging me to watch a movie with her...We were already watching Forget Paris...I'd never seen it before...cute movie. It was just about the end, and I was going to go to bed afterwards....but she wanted meto watch Miss Congeniality...which holds no interest for me. But because I'd stayed up til 5am the previous morning, I was supposed to again at her whim. I don't think so.

I called Heather up and bitched about Chelle for a bit and felt a little better.

I'm s'posed to have a job interview at Kauffman's Wedding World sometime thursady afternoon or Friday...I'll find out Thursday morning....imagine me...working in a wedding dress store...I dunno, that's kinda worrisome. Me, selling big, frilly, pouffy dresses with bows the size of Georgia on the ass...somewhat disconcerting....but it would be a job.
edrick said he'd come down just to see that. I asked if he meant to see me sell poufy dresses, or to try to see naked chicks...he said both, but

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Note To Self...

Floppy disks are not made to be scrap paper for wrting down notes and such.

I just realized that I have random phone numbers and stuff written on the labels of several floppy disks....


Time to venture out into the cold...I wouldn't much care, except that it's that dry kinda cold where your forehead goes numb and then gives you a massive headache, and you can't move your eyebrows. And I forgot my hat.