Fucked up and Awfully Beautiful

I'm moving journal homes. I've had this one for I think five years or so and I don't talk to most of the people who have me friended or vice versa so I'm swapping things out for something new. My new semi-neglected home will be tywyllwch, though I've likely already friended anyone who should be friended there already.

There are 30 questions.

Answer each question with one name.

Next to each number, write only the name of the person who fits.

Don't tell the questions to anyone who isn't doing the meme
( MysteriousnessCollapse )

While I understand having a policy of terminating people who are no call no shows or who are consistently out without finding a replacement I find it a little ridiculous to potentially fire a guy for calling out for a third day in a row because he has food poisoning and has been spending all his time throwing up. Sure, he could be lying but if he's not? My answer? I told him to show up no matter what tomorrow and at least if he's doing nothing but puking still they've got the proof he's sick.

Colin's damn lucky he's so flippin' likeable 'cause otherwise I'd be whining like hell over the 6 day work week for the second week in a row. (Work chaos, ftw!) After being unemployed, and thus on my ass, for so damn long I'm not sure my legs or calf muscles are going to ever recover from all this standing and pivoting in the tiny ass space that is the stall I work in. One day, one day we'll move into the space we are using for storage as of last night and it will be a shop and there will be space and a legit counter and we won't all have to elbow one another while people try to be "efficient" while completely failing to be so because it only creates bad chaos in the two foot wide area between the credit card machine and the register. On the bright side, there were a couple groups of Irish guys in yesterday who were awesome and adored me and, let's face it, I'm all about being adored.

Though I am somehow not looking forward to reading pre-socratic philosophy on my break. My brain won't be functioning enough before work to do it and I'm trying to at least make it to week three of the semester before doing all my homework reading on the train to campus.

I have a day off. This is amazing to me. I got hired last Saturday and I've pulled 9-11.5 hour days ever day since. It's not so bad and it could be worse but the shift from being unemployed with nothing to do for months (read: 9.5 months, how sad is that?) so suddenly having OMG!job is a bit insane. I was dead tired at midnight and couldn't keep my eyes open any longer last night. No, I'm not kidding. I woke up at 8:30 this morning all on my own. Is the world inverted? Has it ended. Is it being exploded later today? Of course, it figures that I go on hiatus-ish from XP, then Reg gets shut down and NOW I have a day off and nothing to do. Time to dig up movies. Netflix has been feeling neglected, I think. I'm putting off the laundry thing. I hate laundry. I'd just do it tomorrow but I dunno if I'll have to work tomorrow. God, I need a real schedule so badly. If I was at all willing to sign onto AIM I could probably be entertained, but AIM and I are not friends. Maybe if I stop yawning and my brain starts working I can finish that Dom/Morgan log with Alicia.

I have a WIDE opening to move to New York. Brooklyn, specifically. Now, if I could only figure out how the hell to get myself with a cat and stuff I'd rather not sell off across the country for less than like $4,000 that I don't have...

I am once again seriously craving moving to New Orleans. It's dirt cheap to live there compared to here right now. Too bad I lack the money to actually pick up and move. Alas.

Almost every other cat I've ever had would notice a fly in the room, look at it, and then be too lazy to be bothered with it. Nephthys? Must. Hunt. Fly. Must talk at fly. And somehow I get the feeling she really thinks telling this fly to come down from the top of the 10 foot high walls is going to work. Then she knocks over a pillow and runs away from it...

My cat is a strange being. Think that reflects on me much?

Bets that I might regret saying "Sure, Mary, I'll go out and get trashed tonight with you"? Note to Self: Do not do shots of vodka. I don't care what Norm or Oz or anyone else says. Shot=Bad!

I seem to have actually remembered that I do, indeed, have an LJ. I got all motivated and decided "Hey, I should embrace this silly thing after two years of neglect!" So what'd I do? I actually changed my layout, for one, since the old one no longer works given my lack of a paid account and all. I swapped out icons. And then I attempted to deal with the mess that is my flist. How do I still have friends on here?! Two years of nada and yet, amazingly enough, everyone has not actually deleted me from their flists. Weird, huh?

Of course, I did all this only to realize I've got absolutely nothing to say of interest. No inspired ramblings, and let's not overlook the fact that I've never been witty no matter how I wish I possessed the trait. Woe is me.

I think the weird hours I've been keeping are wrecking havoc with my brain, possibly. Unemployment can do that to a person. I went to bed at 6 am. Woke up at 4 pm. And then I passed out right after I finished watching Live Forever. The passing out had nothing to do with the documentary, I assure you, as I have been on this strange Blur and Oasis binge on and off for two months or so now. It disturbs me just a little bit. Lately I've been more in a Beatles (actual Beatles, not Across the Universe Beatles) and Marley mood. It makes me feel oddly restless and inspired, though the two seem to be rather counterproductive really and thus it gets me nowhere.

I've decided I need to escape from San Francisco. Five and a half years is enough, I think. I'm attempting to plot/plan my grand escape, which at the moment is looking to have a destination of either LA or Las Vegas. In order for that to work it needs to be financially feasible, though, and I do have the detraction point of having lived in San Francisco for so long means I've never bothered to get a car. I am working on a brilliant plan, though. Of course, I'm still in stage one of said brilliant plan which involves coming up with it so I'm behind the curve on this one. I'll think of something, I always do.

Living with an old Chinese lady who speaks no English and is so hard of hearing she's practically deaf can't be helping my mental state. She's creepy as fuck, too. There is no reason to sit in your dark room at like 11 o'clock at night and stare at the wall, lady! None! It just creeps out the little white girl and makes her wonder if you're secretly putting curses on her! (It doesn't help either that Cantonese is one of the angriest sounding languages I've ever encountered.)

I sure as hell do ramble for someone without anything to say. Jesus. Shutting up now.