i am so fucking wicked smaht sometimes
*walks up to hornets’ nest with large stick*
*looks at hornets’ nest*
*hops on tumblr and fangirls over the Cumbercutie*
Yep. I’m in CONTROL of my own destiny and tumblr’s way more important than that hornets’ nest.
(Oh, did I say tumblr? I meant some terrificcally filthy Drarry fan fic.)
(For what’s it worth, I’m laughing my ass off about this whole thing. Thanks, girly, for the gossip!)
And now that that’s out of the way… it’s time for something completely different.
I talked to my teacher this morning and we’re in agreement that a book is needed. So, a book shall be purchased.
She told me that I was smart and had a good handle on what’s been taught so far. That came as a bit of a shock, to be totally honest, because I’m so NOT feelin’ it.
I decided to buy some keyboard stickers so that I could begin to blog in Ukie without having to use the keyboard viewer thingy that comes with my Mac.
Thus began the great dilemma of Wednesday: do they go on the laptop? Do they go on the iMac’s keyboard?
They went on the little bluetooth keyboard I primarily use with my iPad - it works with both the MBP and the iMac, so that’s a great compromise.
Another good heart to heart with the boss today.
I’m liking this place… so good to finally find a place to settle down and grow some roots.
your daily dose of cumberbatch
I love my job with an amount of passion equal to the amount I hate spiders.
For you playing along at home, that’s a whole metric fuckload and then some.
Thursday and Friday were fucking awesome. I don’t remember the last time I cracked up like that at work. Maybe there was a good day or two at SG way back at the beginning or with D, but I think this may top it.
Our Head Dude of Ticketing (I don’t know his real title) was in our old Group Sales Dude’s cube, going through his desk, looking for… something. I hear, “Hey, are you over there?” Then something comes flying over the cube wall. It’s a packet of mayo. He’s so thoughtful, ain’t he? I laughed so hard, but it kind of hurt when I threw it away. Oh well. I’ll always have my memories:
I didn’t think it could get much better than flying mayo packets, but he topped it yesterday.
He came over to our side of the offices looking for a bucket. Once he procured one, he was running back and forth between the box office and the bubbler trying to fill the bucket. It turns out he’s cleaning the Amazing Pissing Fish Tank in The Skippah’s office. (Seriously. The water level is below the filter thing and sounds like it’s pissing all day. I don’t know how the two men and the poor girl at the Box Office window listen to that all day.)
Finally, he starts looking for a five gallon water bottle. We don’t have any in the admin office, so he had to go down to Ops. He was trying to be all stealthy and stuff and not let anymore know that he was going to use the water to fill the tank.
Our admin called him a shyster and then wondered if that was the right word. A trip to Urban Dictionary confirmed that it wasn’t the right word, so she checked Merriam Webster. It was decided that he really wasn’t a shyster, but that we needed to work the word “pettifogger” into our vocabulary.
I was in tears, man. In. Tears.
I totally love A.
When I’m not bugging him for information and generally pissing him off, he’s pretty awesome.
I’m going to pay for my Ukie lessons today. So! Excited!!!!
The timing is so shitty, given current events, but it’s been a long time coming…
I downloaded Scrivener a long time ago, but I haven’t gotten into it. It’s the lack of iPad and iPhone apps. With Storyist and Dropbox, I can write anywhere on any iOS device. It’s the best thing ever. The only problem is, I can only seem to write at work, on my phone. *sigh*
I suppose I can’t complain. At least I’m writing…
my first (ukrainian) dictionary
It’s a lot harder to find Ukrainian language lessons than you’d think.
EVERYONE and their mother will teach you Russian - and there are a large percentage of Ukies who speak Russian - but I think we can all agree that if I’m going to go through all the trouble of learning a new language (WITH A NEW ALPHABET!), I’m learning the right one.
Besides, the Russians - and their language - can go fuck themselves.
I did find a few places where I can learn Ukie, and I’m just waiting on final quotes from both of them.
That Friend (you know… THAT one) had finally watched the Harry Potter films a few months ago and he had some of the best comments on it ever.
Like this really tame one: “Smack my bum, Harry. SMACK IT”
SO. I was telling him about my little Drarry fan fic (and of course, he’s not into slash, so he called me a few choice names), and it’s his birthday at the end of the week…
I found the perfect card!
The front has a picture of a typewriter and says: “My novel (if I write one) will be filled with wizards, unicorns, tornadoes, a time machine, talking dragons, a rainbow made out of candy, ninjas, and dancing robots. And of course, you.<3"
Saw my drug dealer today. Every visit I have to fill out a self-evaluation form (Am I suicidal? Do I hear voices? Am I eating?) and on their random scoring system, I dropped 16 points. I guess that’s a good thing because she was all like “WOO” and I was all like “What the fuck?”
And on that note - it’s time to go pack for the land of Dirty (dirty, dirty!) Hippies.
i needed a giggle
That friend, with the divorce, and the suicide watch, and the blunt text I sent?
Still haven’t heard back from them.
Commenced freaking out a couple of days ago.
Sent a “please fucking tell me you’re still breathing” text.
I posted this as my FB status today:
I don’t know how much more I can give without losing everything I’ve worked so hard for… And I’m pissed at myself for giving in and putting myself in that position in the first place.
Some people are just takers, and I should keep my distance. I don’t know why I can’t.
(My american football / hockey boyfriend had the best comment on that: “I assume you are talking about BU hockey. I know the feeling.” LOVE HIM.)
Not quite a cry for attention, but if you knew what was going on, you knew why it was as vague as it was. It got the attention it needed from the person it needed attention from. So. Yeah.
Turns out my friend was reassigned from one residence to another. Their new place of residence has a mental health facility and is better adept to take care of them.
While I hope it was my too blunt text that caused this, I’m well aware that there is a very high possibility of them doing something stupid and drastic that resulted in their move…
I promised both of us I wouldn’t walk away again.
But Jesus fucking Christ on a motherfucking pogo stick, do they make it impossible to want to keep that promise…
he’s one damn fine human being…
In case you can’t read that:
Amberly: I need this retweeted by you to show my family that being gay isn’t always something you choose. They think I’m broken. Please. @Markgatiss
Mark Gatiss: Not a choice @Amberly29519238 - a gift. Be happy and strong. x
(For those not in the know, although I have no idea how you can not know this if you’re a regular reader, Mark Gatiss (pronounced GAY-tiss, BTW) is a co-creator and writer on my beloved Sherlock (BBC). He’s also written for Doctor Who. And… he’s married. To a dude.)
This isn’t the first time he’s done something like this, and I totally adore him because of it.
It almost offsets the Moffat factor. But not by too much, since he still lets Moffat write episodes of Sherlock. *sigh*
In a more serious note, my divorcing friend pissed me off the other day.
I’d finally had enough and snapped at them via text.
Told them that they seriously needed to figure out how to rewire themselves. This default position of wanting to give up and/or threatening suicide (it’s really one and the same, isn’t it?), is old, is tired, and is not fair to those of us that love them.
I mean, seriously, I’m starting to feel that it’s a cry for attention. At any rate, it’s fucking obnoxious.
And I know I shouldn’t feel that way, but it felt good to call them out on it.
I mean, me, of all people, saying something like that… to someone I feel is shattered beyond repair.
I’m an arsehole… I know that.
I haven’t heard from them since, and I’m (frighteningly) OK with that.
There has been too much drama, and despite my promises to tolerate it, and not walk away, I just can’t deal with it.
They wonder why they’re getting divorced…
If they could only read the texts they sent me from my point of view - or even their spouse’s - they’d see just what sort of damage they’re capable of inflicting and why we’re not willing to put up with it.
I offered to let them live with us because I felt like I was backed into a corner - suicide or a homeless shelter - and neither one is acceptable.
I shouldn’t have made the offer. Once things calmed down, it hit me hard what an amazingly terrible idea that is.
I can’t handle them from a distance… living with them has the potential to absolutely destroy me.
So now, I’m back where I started from - wanting to run as far as them as I possibly can, and needing to stay and support them as long as they make the right decision, of course.
Can’t stand by and support a dead person, can I?
In happier news, my boss absolutely loves me. He said as much yesterday.
I got my business cards. If that’s not a sign of permanence, I don’t know what is.
I got an official invite from the Department of Athletics to go to their monthly finance meeting. The other staff accountant didn’t, and he’s the one who is supposed to be working for them full time. I’m supposed to be working for the other building we manage, which is not affiliated with the University in any way, shape, or form.
It makes me wonder - especially since everything’s been so confused and fucked up because of the mess we were thrown into on day one - what my role actually is is. What I’m being groomed for. I have my ideas, of course, and they thrill me beyond belief.
I tell everyone who asks how much I love this job, and it’s the truth. I could not be happier. The universe certainly made up for fucking me over the past year.
I love it to the point that when BU played my employer last night. I was tempted to cheer for both teams. (I love both sets of boys - the school I was supposed to go to and the one that funds my paychecks.) Hockey East is getting more complicated…UConn, my employer, BU. Our neighbours in 114 are going to end up hating me next season. *grin*
And on that note, it’s time to look for a hack to my never ending external drive issue and get the power button on my MBP fixed.
Woo!!!! I am living it up today! Jealous?