completely random

Penis!


April 12, 2021 :: 6:21 PM

“E” is most definitely NOT for everyone

I’m pre-empting my own fucking blog entry because, for as much as I love an absolutely terrible horror movie, even I can’t get past a movie who’s first line is - no shit - “There’s no such thing as strip ouija…” Like are you fucking kidding me?!?!

If all you have to offer me in the first half hour involves nudity or, well, strip ouija, yeah…. no.

Give me a red ball bouncing or rolling around on its own power or a good “The power of Christ compels you” any day. 

 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

All of a sudden, all kinds of fan fic is getting bookmarked. (I might have rediscovered a Drarry fic group. Maybe. In my defence, my fics have been recommended there, so we were bound to cross paths again.)

So… apparently, when a guy gets an inappropriate boner and uses a pillow to hide his obvious interest, he grabs an emotional support boner cushion.

But, wait. It gets better.

“Like if a blueberry muffin was a person. A very intense blueberry muffin.”

OK. I get the cinnamon roll thing, but blueberry muffin? That’s a stretch even for my warped imagination. Doesn’t matter. That fic was such a fun read, I’ll probably read it again.

 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I’m still working a fuck ton. Still pissing my weekends away trying to get caught up.

Except, that wasn’t enough for me, so now I’m taking a CMA study course. (Not just part 1 or part 2, but the combined, so I’m in class Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday from 8-10:30.)

Yeah.

I’m a fucking idiot.

On the plus side, the new accountant is working out, so maybe I’ll be able to hand some of that off soon.

Also - we have a new Director of Operations. He’s so cute. He started, took a look at the way things are, and decided he had to make a fuck-ton of changes in procedures and staff. He and I are on the same page with a lot of things. Surprisingly, they were all the same things I wanted to change when I started. (And on 4/20, it will be a year.) So, yeah.

Welcome to [the company], dude. Where you come in all excited to make some meaningful changes and realise that you’re never going to get there because YOU’RE STILL CLEANING UP THE FUCKING PAST.

Seriously.

He didn’t understand when I told him why I hadn’t closed 2020 or any of 2021 yet.

He does now.

File Under Grain


March 05, 2021 :: 7:57 PM

Dylan O’Brien is totally on my list. You know, THE LIST.

On Monday, I stumbled across some very good fan fic.

You know: Poetry. Angels sing. God is in the heavens and all is right in the world.

When I find something that makes me want to NEVER! WRITE! AGAIN! I treasure that bitch.

And then, when I finish it, I obsess over whatever my current WIP is.

I’m on draft 4 of my shitty Teen Wolf fic, draft 3 of my Yuri!!! On Ice fic, draft 6 of my Harry Potter Eighth Year fic (now with multiple POVs! WOOO!),  and I’m stuck on the 2nd 3rd 4th fuck it, I lost count draft of my Harry Potter soulmates fic.

It’s probably an understatement that I’m obsessing over what fic to obsess over…

But. FUCK.

For as smart as I am, for as many words as I’ve written over my lifetime, for the voices I’ve cultivated both for ‘serious’ writing and ‘internet’ writing, I still suffer from Imposter Syndrome.

My writing has won fucking awards. It’s popular on AO3. It’s made grown men cry. It answered that age old question, How Do You Tell Someone You Don’t Love Them Any More? It’s opened wounds. It’s healed them.

It’s alive and amazing and wonderful and it’s something I created. By myself. For myself.

But. FUCK.

That little lemony piece of goodness I finished snacking on - why was it so fucking short - was just an amazing piece.

One day, I’ll be able to write mindblowing tales of tentacle porn between ghosts, blow up T-Rexes, and walruses who are calculating the square root of cheese while doing lines of coke and having sex with chickens…

No.

Wait.

That wasn’t the story I just read.

That was the fucked up dream I had when I added a doxy to my nighttime ‘fuck insomnia’ cocktail.

Kinda made me never want to sleep again.

Seriously.

*sigh*

 

- - - - - - - - - -

One of my fanfic groups asked if you were any AO3 tag which one(s) would you be?

I chewed on that question for days but the winner is:  DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

Honorable mention went to no beta we die like men, but I’m totally a dead dove.

The deadest of doves.

 

- - - - - - - - - -

Day whatever of Quarantine is under my belt (we both tested fucking positive!) and I am miserable.

Thankfully, that little habit I developed of working over the weekend has served me well. My home office is set up and (mostly) organized and I’ve been working without missing a beat.

In other news, we’re not firing my staff accountant… she quit.

Small little issue with her replacement, but I’m hoping it won’t blow up into something larger. I’m all for second chances and this seems like it might be worth the risk.

 

життя починаеться знов


February 27, 2021 :: 3:10 PM

I may write multiple shitty drafts, but I’ve never written anything this bad.

Soooooooo. A lot has happened in two months.

The one I find most amusing is that I posted my 10 favourite R.E.M. songs on Facebook and somebody caught the fact that both Good Advices and Wendell Gee were on the list.

Somebody’s been paying attention. If you don’t know what the significance is… well, I’m afraid I can’t help you. (Says “Wendell” who blogs at “goodadvices”.com and has an email address of “wendellgee1985”.)

The second one is that we fired and hired a CPA firm on Friday and then hired a new AR person this morning.

I AM SO EXCITED.

I know I’m an asshole, but I am so glad to be letting go of my AR person. I’ve have a problem with her since I started there. Her emails are typically written in redneck and are terribly embarrassing to read. As her boss, it’s HORRIFYING to come across these in my inbox. She’s such a bad reflection on me and my department… and I’ve let my feelings known. She’s also incapable of following instructions and refuses to take responsibility for anything. My number one rule is Own. Your. Shit. and she refuses. So… we’re bringing someone on board who will.

 

- - - - - - - - - - -

There’s so much I do - and don’t - want to talk about that I can’t even find a place to begin or a way to separate the two.

The major thing is: Mitch McConnell is a fucking asshole. But that’s really neither here nor there… it’s not like we didn’t know it.

I don’t know. I’m alive. I’m still working weekends. I’ve gotten better at running more frequently. I’m studying for two major exams. I’m focusing on Ukrainian.

I’m surviving.

I can’t ask for much more than that.

 

 

I need some music, I need some sleep


December 26, 2020 :: 11:38 PM

Spending Christmas with Matt

I’ve taken over the HR duties at work, and there was a conversation I can’t let go of:

We had a client sleep with several of our subcontractors. Apparently, there was a move on our Project Manager.

Question: if he had slept with her and something had happened, would he be eligible for workers comp?

Heart attack, sprained muscle, STD… anything is fair game.

If they were at her house (“job site”), would it count as being on the job? Even if it was after hours?

Sometimes, I think we should adjust my meds. My head is going to the weirdest places lately.

-  -  -  -  -

We decided to paint my office this month and the husband went after it with a vengeance.

I ended up going with a soft grey - the same grey from the reading nook - with the same roman blinds, but no curtains.

That room used to be so dark that I used fairy lights and desk lamps(s) to try and brighten it up. I replaced the ugly sconces. The gold nipple lamp in the entry got replaced with a flush mount LED that’s brighter than the fucking sun. I also added a new ceiling fan with a light. Also LED. Also bright as fuck.

On one of the walls, there was a floor to ceiling mirror. One of the very first things we did when we moved in was had it removed. I left up the frame and we painted the inside of it with a bright white. (If removing the frame wasn’t going to necessitate replacing all the drywall, I’d have taken it down. That adhesive is nasty.)

The reading nook and the office are one big room, half assed divided by an arch and I think they will compliment each other beautifully. The reading nook is dark and cosy, with a bright red wall dominating. The office is bright and airy, with a large white area. They’re divided by a white and red IKEA shelving unit and I’m SO HAPPY with the way it all came together.

-  -  -  -  -

After quitting running (temporarily) due to depression, I signed up for Fandom Running Club’s year long event.

I think I have ONE real live race in 2021 so far… and I’m not sure I’ll be signing up for others.

Disney went virtual for Marathon Weekend and Rival Run and I’m not paying Disney dollars for a medal. That completely broke me. SHATTERED me.

So I’ve been licking my wounds and using a ridiculous backlog of work from the day job to distract myself.

But.

I miss running. Even if I only run on a treadmill and get bored after the first five minutes, I miss it.

I never finished my 2020 medal rerun, so I’m scrapping it. It doesn’t make sense to beat myself up for two shitty Racery events and not finishing all my medals. Let’s be honest, I’ve been in such a shit place that it takes EFFORT to get out of bed every morning, so… if that’s all I have spoons for, that’s all I have spoons for. I’m not going to sweat it.

I’ll be rerunning them all this year. Same rules apply: have to run entire medal distance in one go, intentional miles only, and the challenge medals are the same distance as all the year’s races. (The 2018 PHRC Phoenix Challenge only required that you ran all the races.)

-  -  -  -  -

I am not doing well.

That’s not a cry for attention. It’s a fact.

I’m exhausted.

I’m homesick.

I’m lonely.

It’s that last one that kills me… I’m not a people person by any means, but I miss being able to go out.

Одна


December 08, 2020 :: 8:17 PM

Fun Fact: New Britain, CT is pronounced NOOOOO BRI ’ IN! (Yup.)

Oh, the stories I could tell about the… interesting evenings spent at the Sting nightclub in Noooooooooooo Bri ’ in. Pansy Division, H20, the Bosstones, the Lemonheads, Green Day, Spring Heeled Jack, and BiG MiSTAKE (I think. SHJ/BM could have been Toad’s Place). I don’t know how many shows I saw there, but I know it was a shit ton. It was a cool little club; the Casino at Hampton Beach reminds me of it.

Because work has been too crazy, I haven’t been doing much of anything fun.

BUT.

I did decide to listen a little more actively to my favourite Ukrainian bands. So now I’ll try to write down what I hear and then google translate it to see if I’m right.

Occasionally, things go a wee bit sideways.

Picture it: It’s 7:30 AM, my favourite song comes on and I’ve just pulled into my office’s parking lot. I park in my spot and listen to the music / read the Cyrillic version of the lyrics and try to guess what I’m hearing.

ME: What the fuck? Is he singing about a banana? I mean, the girl’s alone and what girl doesn’t like to be alone with a “banana”... (*snicker*)

LYRICS TRANSLATE: Ha ha! I bet you’re even more confused now: I’m looking back, someone satisfies own tiredness by bananas,

LYRICS TRANSLATE: OH! I have another English translation: I’m looking back, someone with bananas reduces strain

GOOGLE TRANSLATE: You always accuse me of being drunk. Go fuck yourself… with a banana: I look back, someone is banishing fatigue with bananas.

ME: Well, fuck. Google Translate was right. That’s what? One out of elebenty gatrillion lyrics?

ME: Oh, wait. I don’t understand this line at all. Not a damn word.

GOOGLE TRANSLATE: My time to shine, bitches! *clears throat* *cracks knuckles*: AND YOU DON’T EVEN BLOW YOUR MUSTACHE, YOU ARRANGE YOUR LIFE!!!!!!!!!

ME: Go home, Google Translate. You’re drunk.

GOOGLE TRANSLATE: Fuck you. I am not drunk.

LYRICS TRANSLATE: *whispers* And you don’t give a damn, you’re arranging your affairs

GOOGLE TRANSLATE: Fuck both of you. I’m going home.

And here’s the song that brought me so much amusement the other day…. enjoy!

 

Одна
День як день, ніч як ніч.
Ніч як ніч, день як день.

Нарешті, знову ти повертаєшся додому.
Дивлюсь назад, хтось бананами гамує втому, (mmmm… banana)
Хтось щось читає, хтось в метро втикає,
Лиш вона одна біля вікна тебе чекає.

І бачить – ти ходиш поруч тими ж дворами,
Через перехід праворуч, потім біля брами.
Можливо ти зупинишся, поглянеш – третій поверх зліва.
Така дурниця, а вона була б щаслива.

Ні, думаєш, як все дістало, життя замало,
І доля всі надії, сподівання розігнала.
Куди ідеш, що буде далі – питання,
Над якими зараз думати, повір, не варто.

Приспів:
Вона одна, вона одна, сидітиме біля вікна до темна.
Гукатиме тебе й мене, а час мине...
Вона одна, вона одна, є-ее.
Гукатиме тебе й мене, а час мине...

День як день, змінилося все давно.
День у день життя – кольорове кіно.
Ніч як ніч, як сяйво запалених свіч.
День як день, а ніч як ніч.

Вона чекала тільки на тебе, чуєш?
А ти і в вус не дуєш, ти побут свій лаштуєш.(yes, blow that mustache)
Кохаєш свою машину і маєш стиль.
Отримав все, що хотів, доклав зусиль.

Чому ж тоді сумно – її немає поруч,
Як там: брама, другий будинок, потім праворуч?
Сходами летиш, третій поверх зліва,
Невже відчинить, невже буде щаслива?

Невже досягнув ти бажаної мети?
Все нормально: шампанське, квіти.
Ще хвилину стоїш, дзвоник лунає.
Ну хто там? – нікого немає.

Приспів

День як день, липень, листопад, квітень,
За вікном кожен з нас її мішень.
Ніч як ніч, в темряві вогонь світить.
Ніч як ніч, да, день як день.

Мрії прозорі в долонях, чоловічі забобони,
Довести, що ти найкращий, щурячі перегони.
Сіре місто, зранку тісто, ввечорі погони,
Поїзд далі не їде, звільніть, будь ласка, вагони.

В тому річ, що блакитними очима,
Ніч за плечима, дивиться дівчина.
Знає, що настане день, прийде весна,
Зрозумієш, що чекала вона одна.

Можливо буде день, да, прийде весна,
Ти зрозумієш, що чекала вона одна.
Скоро буде день, ага, прийде весна,
Зрозумієш, що чекала...

Thank you, Lyrics Translate!

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