In which weekend-in-review takes on list form.

1. I bowled a 163 Friday night! I think that’s my highest game ever.
2. I visited Ray and T-man in their new house after bowling.
3. I made an incredibly good soup Saturday.
4. My man’s in Cedar Rapids all week, so I get the whole bed to myself.
5. Nasty Little Whore has invited me over for dinner tonight.
6. Brokeback was in town for a week and I missed it.
7. I did not manage to see the Oscars last night.
8. I am way underdressed for the weather today. (Luckily I keep slippers under my desk here at work so at least my feet are warm.)
9. Three days ’til goblinbox.com turns five years old!

In which I answer email.

“So, now it’s your turn. You didn’t really mention the “why” of your
tattoos in your recent post. So, why?”

–Shloppy Shenry Shrimp Kabob

Okay, um, my first one, the om symbol: So it’s five or six years ago, on, approaching, or near Valentine’s Day. I’m in Iowa City with my boyfriend, he’s already got a couple of tattoos and I have none, and suddenly we’re in the tattoo parlor in the Hall Mall with cash in hand and it’s time to sink or swim.

I think, “What do I know for a fact I’ll be able to stand forever?” Well, an esoteric/spiritual symbol, naturally. Which = om, on that particular day. Plus I’m Hindu. So om it was.

I had a bracelet on, a five-metal bracelet with Om Namah Shivaya or some other sloka in Sanskrit, and the bracelet had these little decorative doo-dads on it. The bracelet had been on my wrist for over five years, had been put there by my guru. It was the most important thing I owned at the time. So I showed it to the artist and he used the doo-dads in the design.

The boyfriend paid for it. I count it as a VD gift, even though the date, in his opinion, was random. *grin* The placement was a spur-of-the-moment decision and not significant. Low back tattoos, that’s what chicks do, right? *shrug*

In which I look forward to the weekend.

Last night I sat next to p-Kav at the bar. He told me a funny story about his computer:

His computer, which was in his bedroom, had a motion-sensitive webcam on it. Apparently one day he was wandering around his room, post-shower naked, and his webcam started following him. Its light was on. Turns out someone had hacked his computer and was looking at him, with his own camera! Is that not totally funny?

But seriously, folks. Run a firewall (I run this one on my home box) and protect yourselves, m’kay?

//end PSA

At band practice last night, everyone was in a goofy, strange mood. I laughed a lot. I got great hugs from all the guys before I left, ’cause I’m a total hussy like that. When I got home, Bread was asleep on the couch. So I brought some firewood in, stoked the stove, and crashed.

Two hours left of my workweek. *sigh* I’ve purchased ebooks — a strange combo of hard sc-fi and soft porn, I’m getting so weird in my old age — and downloaded them, so I’ll have stuff to read. Tomorrow I intend to do absolutely nothing that even remotely resembles anything like accomplishment. Sunday I might take a swipe at housework… but I doubt it.

Bread’ll be in Cedar Rapids for much if not all of next week, so I’ll be going home to spastic dogs and a cold fireplace every night. But I have to say it’ll be nice to see the ol’ man bring home a paycheck for a few weeks… you have no idea how far behind I am in our bill paying.

Hey, I know! Let’s all go to Mexico and get tanned and lazy, and spend all day drinking frothy things with tequila in them and doing coke and getting tattoos. Doesn’t that sound fun? I look hot with a tan.

In which “That which doesn’t kill you, makes you three-T HOTTT!” And I don’t want nothin’ if not to be three-t hot. Er, hott. Whatever.

First, check in with my gets-tons-of-hits tattoo gallery and read the comments. They make me sooooo happy. (The spelling is absolutely atrocious. I shudder imagining these people operating motor vehicles in densely populated areas — I imagine they can’t read traffic signs, but I love them all so much anyway! My precious babies!)

Then go watch this because it’s fucking funny. (Thanks to Vuboq for the vid link.)

In which I’m not the sharpest tool in the shed.

So last night I stopped at the Dead Cock for an after-work bloody mary. While I was there, SMcL asked me to come over and look at his MP3 player. Gorgeous had purchased two players for her man and daughter for Xmas, and try as they might they couldn’t get them to work.

So over I went.

I played with the electronics while Gorgeous cooked. She fed me tuna steak, green beans with dill, and rice pilaf. Damn.

I couldn’t get the player to work, though. They’ve got a Mac; the player’s machine-translated-from-Japanese instruction booklet claims the device will work with OS X.3 but the drive was unreadable. So I initialized it, and was able to put an MP3 on it. But when I tried to play the file, the player rebooted itself.

Fucking thing.

Anyway, the point is, after all this fun domesticity I went out with Gorgeous and got drunk and didn’t get home until nearly midnight. On a work night. Because I had to drive home, I ended up suffering through an hour of karaoke while drinking water. And this morning I pushed the snooze button until the alarm quit going off altogether, and rolled in to work an hour and a half late.

Bad, bad me.

In which it turns out he’s not going until next week.

Bread was supposed to leave today for a multi-day stint in Cedar Rapids remodelling his sister’s basement. Turns out he’ll be home tonight; he’s not going up to stay until Monday.

Damn! And I had the naked cabaña boys all lined up!

In which I do a lot of nothing and am grumpy about it. The important points are in bold.

Yesterday I was not at work because my uterus exploded violently into a million sharp little serrated shards, and tried to crawl slowly and with cruel intent around my abdomen.

I spent the day in bed popping Pamprin and feeling extraordinarily sorry for myself. When I wasn’t crying, that is.

~+~+~

Friday night we went out and tagged along on a double date with the Holy Couple and SMcL & MissT, making it a triple date. It was fun. But the service in the new restaurant above the bar? Sucked. We got there at eight and weren’t done until ten thirty.

I think the guy who owns the place is losing his mind – he almost threw a woman out of the bar because she, angry at her husband for spilling a very sweet and sticky cocktail all over her outfit, hit the bathroom door with the flat of her little hand. And later when I told him he should get Red Bull on tap because his bartenders waste tons of time opening those little cans to make Jager Bombs, he went nearly apoplectic on me and claimed it didn’t come on tap. “Oh,” I said, easing out of the conversation, “that’s silly. It should be on tap.” I didn’t tell him how many bars I’ve been in that do have it – well, okay, a generic version – on tap.

Saturday I did nothing. I didn’t get dressed. I didn’t even put my contacts in. It was lovely. Bread went out and played poker, but came back too early for it to have been a relaxing day alone for me.

Sunday Bread dragged me to Iowa City to meet his sister KW at Menards to look at the fixtures she’ll be getting in her basement remodel. After shopping we all went to Olive Garden for lunch. I was pretty much tired and cranky and pissed off that I had to go in the first place, because if I never go to another Menards again that would be ideal… and I suppose there might have been a touch of PMS happening there… but mainly I didn’t see why I had to be late for band practice just so he didn’t have to go work by himself.

Bread dropped me off at rehearsal. The board was back, but it wasn’t fixed. Gear sucks. Bands spend more time fucking with their gear than they ever do playing. If they can make a 6 oz. device that lets you watch movie in HD, they should be able to make PAs that are small, affordable, and don’t suck. *rolleyes* We celebrated BvB’s birthday by eating cake and ice cream. I had a giggling sugar fit and had tons of fun… until I crashed. Hate the sugar crash. *sigh*

I played Asteroids on my iPod while booted into Linux. My geek dick is, like, twelve inches long.

~+~+~

Now it’s Tuesday and I’m at work and I’ve got web sites to move from one server to another. If I had a clever thought in my head I’d write it here for your amusement, but I don’t. You’ll just have to settle for the knowledge that I adore you, my lovelies.