if the real thing don't do the trick you better make up something quick

Today's shitlist:

1. Those fuckers who cancelled my 6:30 AM flight this morning.
2. Slow annoying fucks who walk abreast in every restaurant so people can't get to the fucking bathroom to, you know, pee.
3. Slow annoying fucks who walk abreast in airport aisles so people can't get to the fucking bathroom to, you know, pee.
4. Slow annoying fucks who walk abreast on escalators so people can't get to the fucking bathroom to, you know, pee.
5. 1970s Heart, for forcing me to listen to their music and quote them two days in a row..
6. The thick black hairs that insist on growing all over my chin.
7. The acne that has decided to show up now, as opposed to say, 16 years ago.
8. The ballet tee that looks like a bucket of boiled ass on me.
9. The Prepster jacket which will probably also look like a bucket of boiled ass on me.
10. Whoever made up the word "signator." It's either "signatory" or "signer."
11. The person who complained when I changed the word to "signer."
12. Assne that develops in extreme heat.
13. DC, for having a heat index of 105 degrees and causing assne.

wild man's world is cryin' in pain whatcha gonna do when everybody's insane

So my flight back to DC tonight was cancelled and those fuckers didn't even let me know until after the goddamned original flight time, thanks so much for those fancy "Delta alerts," they sure helped me save two hours of hell on MARTA getting to the fucking airport to discover that my flight was cancelled and, oh by the way, I can't get on another flight tonight, so oops, here's a voucher for breakfast in the airport tomorrow morning and we rebooked you on the 6:30 AM flight. Yeah.

So I demanded a hotel voucher and a meal voucher for dinner and they blathered on about policy for people who live in Atlanta and I cut the bitch off and said yo, it took me two hours to get here, it'll take two hours to get home, and then because my flight is so early, I'd have to wake up at 3 AM and get dressed and make The Man Who Lives in the House drive me to the airport where, because it's Monday morning, there will be a two hour security wait time, and for all of that, you'll give me a $7 meal? No thank you. I want a room in a hotel near the airport and a voucher for dinner tonight. Pretend I don't live here.

At least the Crowne Plaza has lavender sheet spray. I washed my shirt in the sink and have it drying over the high-blast A/C and hopefully it'll be dry by tomorrow, if not, I finished the ballet tee and can wear that, and I'll wear to work tomorrow the same suit I wore on Friday.

Don't tell.

And now, thanks to today's post title, I have Heart stuck in my head.

One minute later: As I was about to push "Post," there was a knock at the door and it was hotel maintenance saying there was a lightbulb out in my room. Keep in mind I'm running a bath and am naked. I said through the door there were no light bulbs out and I didn't appreciate him coming and he was all, I can't take your word for it and I said as a woman who travels alone, like, all the time, I couldn't let people in my room, I wasn't comfortable with it, and he could come back another time to see that no light bulbs needed changing. I called the front desk and they didn't know anything about it. Now I am really freaked out.

People fucking suck.

feed my eyes can you sew them shut

There's someone at work with whom I have to work very closely in the present and future. The working relationship began very recently (e.g., one week ago). So, aside from this person being the most unbelievably fey person I have ever met in my entire life, here's what "Faye" did during a meeting today:

Faye took a document that was mine and pulled it over to look at it. Faye then started to read it, mangling the pages of MY document. Faye proceeded to exhibit a nervous affectation (habit?) where Faye played with the edges of the paper. Eventually I noticed that....

Faye was using the edges of the paper to clean under well-manicured nails.

Leaving nail crud on the edges of the pages of MY document.

A document, mind you, I need to have for, you know, like, my JOB, and which I do not have electronically. Faye then tried to steal MY document, in a seeming utter sense of unawareness that this was MY document. I subtley took it back, because inasmuch as I would have liked to have let Faye have MY document, if Faye took MY document, I would not be able to do my JOB.

Due to the nature of my job and Faye's job, I cannot say anything about this. To anyone. So I am sharing my pain about it here.

Thank you for letting me vent. I'd like to imagine that, were I not constrained by my wanting to have a job and career and all that, you would all assist me in coming up with language or actions or procedures as to how to handle this.

BONUS OF THE DAY: Previous managers nicknamed Napoleon are currently out of work. This may or may not be related to my experiences. I am vindicated nonetheless.

i had to regain my confidence so i got into camouflage

I was forced into test knitting Karida's and Ellie's modified ballet tee pattern, completed with short rows to shape the bustamidst my crocheting the first sleeve of the Prepster jacketso now I just have the second sleeve to go.

i'm sassy when i'm drunk

Today's song lyrics provided by Ellie. Jess suggested something different but I was too drunk to like, remember. Without a computer at my apartment, I couldn't blog drunk, which was really too bad, because I compiled a slew o' drunken haikus in the Americanized 5-7-5 format to describe last night. I think I can only remember a few.

Drink margaritas
Drink many margaritas
Tequila is good.

Jess is making me
Eat all of my steak and beans
I'm too drunk to eat.

Soft pima silk yarn
In limey, limey, lime green
My friends are awesome.

i've come to wish you an unhappy birthday 'cause you're evil and you lie

Birthdays suck.

And I'm a year older.

That sucks more.

in a world of pain i have no fear you fade away and disappear

I've created a weird ruffly circle crochet dog toy for Crazy Lady's new puppies, it's a simple circle and then a whole buncha increases in single crochet and one row of double crochet and finish off.I'm using up scrap yarn for them. I have a pile so far. And then came Jack.It's The. Best. Toy. Ever.

sweet berries ready for two ghosts are no different than you

Burning questions du jour:

1. Does Malan (Project Runway) really have an accent, or is it an affectation to make him sound even more pretentious?

2. Why do people go on Project Runway when they can't use a fucking sewing machine?

3. If someone was a good enough actress to get her SAG card by starring in an epidose of "The Equalizer," what happened to her after that episode? Why have I never seen her again?

4. Why are all hookers and strippers on tv shows really hot and gorgeous and gifted with great bodies?

5. Why is there a third Bring It On movie? If they couldn't even get the same stars as the second had, isn't it a given that it's terrible?

6. Why can't I stop being sick? (It's going on three weeks now.)

7. Why can I not get into any of my knitting projects but I'm obsessed with crochet?

8. How can authors get away with combining "knitting" and "crochet" in a book when it's two separate things?

9. Why did Debbie Stoller get away with "for left side, reverse shaping from right side" when the reversal is impossible if you want to make it match? (e.g., one row in the pattern has you do 2 DC and 1 TR into the same stitch at the end of the row, making a diagonal. If you reverse it, you end up uh, ch 4, well, that takes care of the TR, ok, then you do 1 DC, because that's the increase, and otherwise you'll be increasing twice into that stitch, thanks for telling me that one, Lauren, and then move on, how does a ch 4, 1 DC even come fucking close to approximating 2 DC, 1 TR in the same stitch? IT DOESN'T! IT'S NOWHERE NEAR THE SAME! IT LOOKS LIKE ASSHAT! FUCK YOU DEBBIE STOLLER FOR EVEN PRINTING SUCH A PATTERN AND NOT GIVING HANDY-DANDY DIRECTIONS FOR THIS AT THE BEGINNING OF THE BOOK!)

watch the monkey get hurt monkey

To whomever found my blog through the terms "cute funny monkey," yeah.

Go away.

Monkeys are not cute. Nor are they funny.

she lives by the wall and waits by the door

I had a flight back to DC last night, to be there for two weeks.

And yet, I am still in Atlanta.

My offices in DC were flooded and we can no longer work in our space. Nobody knows where my records went to. Nobody knows where I can sit. So, I am in Atlanta until the fine date of July 18th, at which time I will go back to DC and hopefully, I will have a desk.