Gambling Continued...

Okay, so I finally got around the credit card rule.....which in retrospect I shouldn't be proud of. However, I have to announce that yes, I won bingo for the first time tonight...$40!!! The trick is to then STOP PLAYING. I haven't learned how to do that yet...

Multiple Personalities

Okay, so I was chatting with my Matt tonight and we think I may have a multiple personality disorder. Therefore, I need to go see my therapist again to find out if I have been misdiagnosed. Okay, okay, I'm just kidding. But it certainly does seem sometimes that there is a definite negative identity and a definite positive identity. But I'm sure that's true for just about everyone. What do you do when your negative identity takes over? How do you lock them up and make sure they don't escape? I like to lock mine in the coat closet, but it's not very secure, so she escapes a lot. And of course, Zoloft and Wellbutrin help, too....oh that's right - I ran out yesterday and didn't have any to take this morning. Okay, never mind - mystery solved. Go on about your business; nothing more to see here.

"You're not just gonna let him die like that, are you?"
"My shoulder angel!"
"Don't listen to that guy - he's trying to lead you down the path of righteousness; I'm gonna lead you down the path that ROCKS!!!"
"Aw, come off it."
"You come off it."
"You!"
"You!"
"You!!!"
"You infinity."
"Arrrrrrggg."
"Listen up, big guy; I got three good reasons why you should just walk away. Number one: look at that guy! He's got that sissy stringy music thing."
"We've been through this; it's a harp, and you know it."
"Oh, right. That's a harp, and that's a dress."
"ROBE!!!!"
"Reason number two: look at what I can do!" [does handstand on one hand]
"Uh - what does that have to do with anything?"
"No, no - he's got a point....."
"Listen you guys, you're sorta confusing me so, ah, begone! Or, uh, however I get rid of you guys."
"That'll work."

- The Emperor's New Groove

(I put that in there because knowing my luck, someone from Disney will wander into my blog and sue me for copyright infringement - they probably will, anyway since I don't have permission to put that in here, although if you think about it, it's free advertising for them - makes you wonder, doesn't it?)

Gambling

Did you know that credit card companies randomly will decline your card if it's to a gambling site? I did not know this until recently. Must be God telling me not to gamble with what little money I have left. So tempting, though...

Friday's Random Thoughts

Corn muffins are good.

Fridays are good too.

I don't have to spend money on lunch today because I cooked last night and there's leftovers; that's best of all.

"Kill'em with kindness"

Okay, I know I said I wouldn't write about work anymore, but I lied. What do you expect? My mom has given me great advice, as usual.

"I know it's hard, but kill them with kindness and always smile...it will be THAT much sweeter when you hand them your resignation."

Moms are so smart.

Morbidness

I don't even know if that's a word...but anyways...

I just read an article this morning entitled, "Best Places to Die." Is it just me, or does that seem to be going a bit far? Wouldn't you rather read something about the best vacation spot or best beaches in the world or something? Apparently not, no - "I'm gonna read this article so I know where to go when I'm about to die." Are people really likely to move to another state just because it's better to die there? Who are these people?!?!

Incidentally, Virginia is ranked #13. Washington D.C. is #50. Head south, my city-dwelling friends!!!

Exaggeration...

Okay, so Jared is / was not the only reason for being happy at work. I tend to exaggerate. But those of you know me are going "DUH." I have resolved to try to write as little as possible about work on this site from now on. In closing, White Russians (the drinks, not the people) really can make everything seem better....

Finally, in tribute to Jared:

"Eh, buckle THIS!!!"

Work sux

So as I'm sure you've all heard from me only a million times, work SUCKS!!! Poor Jared got "let go" this morning, thus severing all ties to any form of happiness I had here. Who the hell fires someone on a MONDAY?!?!? So now I'm stuck doing all of his work AND mine, and no extra money. Yes, it is time to go.....

Writing

So as most of you know, I have been extremely unhappy at work lately. However, instead of taking my anger out by contemplating all possible ways of disembowling, eviscerating, or otherwise planning the demise of my bosses, I have decided to start writing a book. I know - it's a little presumptuous and most likely will never even come close to an actual book, but it's a better outlet than murder. I'm assuming that I'll never let anyone read it, but nevertheless it beats playing solitaire.

Pictures

You know, you would think that downloading a picture into your profile would be relatively easy...over an hour later, I have succeeded. I feel like such a moron.

Explanations

Okay - so here's the deal - this is not a blog about household pests that destroy your house. For those of you who have heard this story, feel free to skip ahead; otherwise...

My older sister, brother and I all used the same crib when we were babies. Brand new when my sister was born, it was your run-of-the-mill crib. As my parent's first child and a daughter at that, she got the nickname "Princess" from my father. Pretty standard. Apparently when she started teething, the plastic teething strip covering the edges of the wood was just begging to be destroyed. My sister obliged, chewing the entire thing off.

When my brother inherited the crib, he couldn't be bothered with teething - he just wanted OUT. The crib, housed in a room with hardwood floors, also had wheels. Thus, when he woke up from his naps, he would announce it by running from one end of the crib to the other, causing it to roll across the floor and hit the opposite wall. If that didn't work, he would turn around and try it again going the other direction. As a last resort, he would stand in one corner (the same one every time, incidentally) and jump up and down until someone came and got him. Which is how that one particular leg broke. Strangely enough, this didn't earn him a nickname at all. Go figure.

So as you can see, when I inherited the crib, this dilapidated, busted thing, there really wasn't much left to destroy. Until I started teething... Well, needless to say, the only thing left was the skeleton of the crib itself, the aforementioned wood, which would still bear teeth marks to this day...if it still existed. Thus, my father nicknamed me Termite.

So that's the story. Princess, no nickname and Termite.

Me on my very first vacation....in the "sexiest pj" contest...believe it or not, this is the only decent picture I have of myself.