Argephontes
6/07/2002
The Weekly Round-Up
6/01/02 - 6/08/02
High Maintainence: Court establishes that there is indeed a prize for the Court Contest (although I thought we got prezzies anyway!). I am once again the Best Friend Ever. Also, the Steves of the world have been ignoring her. Court also announced that she would be "matting" some friends of her mothers at the hospital, which could mean one of three things:
1. She meant "mating". Let's hope not.
2. She is going to use their severed limbs to weave a mat, such that you might use to wipe your feet on as you enter the house.
3. She has an evil plot to turn every Joe, Bob, and Mary of the world into Matthews. Yikes! (Or maybe just the Steves. Hmmm.)
Courtney also took several quizzes, the last of which, noting that she was an international spy, might have encouraged her to remain out of the country a bit longer. I suppose if I discovered that I was an international spy, I wouldn't want to come right home either. Also Liz arrived (who I happen to know is her step-sister, not that she announced this or anything).
Stupid O'Clock: Since Steve didn't see fit to post anything at all this week, I can only leap to the conclusion that summer fun on the shore has captured his fancy and stole him away from us. Punk. WE don't have a beach.
Do You Mind?: Justine wants a purple lightsaber so she can be a Bad Ass Muthafucka too. She also saw Vanilla Sky, which she loved, but neglected to mention what a georgeous performance Jason Lee gave. *shame on you, girl! ;)* She learned that she is a goddess (but of what, you might ask), and then the B.A.M.F. theory is shot as she finds that in actuality, she is really Yoda, who is so cool he doesn't need a purple lightsaber. I still hope she got one, anyway.
ClusterFuck: Alicia kicks off the week with her rage over having to pay for a plane ticket to her sister's wedding. Debbie's itty bitty daughter is annoying, and Debbie's grown daughter has no fashion sense. The oppressive heat of Mississippi in the summertime personally has it in for Alicia, who despite a lovely evening of PS2 and drunken softball game watching, cannot "Beat the Heat." She has now officially moved into the living room. Her second job adds to the now ever-building trauma by being an Evil Nazi Regime. There is poo.
Despite all of this, her life still Rules. (Yay!) And so do other people, namely ME.
And, Sarah Michelle Gellar of Buffy fame needs to eat.. well, a lot.
Chasm: Jen has conflicting emotions about the Joys and Woes of taking an English class again. She likes the reading, and she likes the writing, but not, it seems, writing about the reading. Also, Jen has been reading other things, too. About hermaphrodites AND inccubi (whatare those, anyway?) AND succubi AND witches. And Bridget Jones.
Plus, Colin Firth. Yum.
¶ 6/07/2002 04:57:00 PM
6/01/02 - 6/08/02
High Maintainence: Court establishes that there is indeed a prize for the Court Contest (although I thought we got prezzies anyway!). I am once again the Best Friend Ever. Also, the Steves of the world have been ignoring her. Court also announced that she would be "matting" some friends of her mothers at the hospital, which could mean one of three things:
1. She meant "mating". Let's hope not.
2. She is going to use their severed limbs to weave a mat, such that you might use to wipe your feet on as you enter the house.
3. She has an evil plot to turn every Joe, Bob, and Mary of the world into Matthews. Yikes! (Or maybe just the Steves. Hmmm.)
Courtney also took several quizzes, the last of which, noting that she was an international spy, might have encouraged her to remain out of the country a bit longer. I suppose if I discovered that I was an international spy, I wouldn't want to come right home either. Also Liz arrived (who I happen to know is her step-sister, not that she announced this or anything).
Stupid O'Clock: Since Steve didn't see fit to post anything at all this week, I can only leap to the conclusion that summer fun on the shore has captured his fancy and stole him away from us. Punk. WE don't have a beach.
Do You Mind?: Justine wants a purple lightsaber so she can be a Bad Ass Muthafucka too. She also saw Vanilla Sky, which she loved, but neglected to mention what a georgeous performance Jason Lee gave. *shame on you, girl! ;)* She learned that she is a goddess (but of what, you might ask), and then the B.A.M.F. theory is shot as she finds that in actuality, she is really Yoda, who is so cool he doesn't need a purple lightsaber. I still hope she got one, anyway.
ClusterFuck: Alicia kicks off the week with her rage over having to pay for a plane ticket to her sister's wedding. Debbie's itty bitty daughter is annoying, and Debbie's grown daughter has no fashion sense. The oppressive heat of Mississippi in the summertime personally has it in for Alicia, who despite a lovely evening of PS2 and drunken softball game watching, cannot "Beat the Heat." She has now officially moved into the living room. Her second job adds to the now ever-building trauma by being an Evil Nazi Regime. There is poo.
Despite all of this, her life still Rules. (Yay!) And so do other people, namely ME.
And, Sarah Michelle Gellar of Buffy fame needs to eat.. well, a lot.
Chasm: Jen has conflicting emotions about the Joys and Woes of taking an English class again. She likes the reading, and she likes the writing, but not, it seems, writing about the reading. Also, Jen has been reading other things, too. About hermaphrodites AND inccubi (whatare those, anyway?) AND succubi AND witches. And Bridget Jones.
Plus, Colin Firth. Yum.
¶ 6/07/2002 04:57:00 PM
I forgot to mention that I at least managed to waive my cigarrette around so that the smoke blew right in his face. That, at least, was a small triumph.
¶ 6/07/2002 01:43:00 PM
Eww. There's this nasty little man who teaches English on campus. I managed to avoid ever taking a class from him, because I had seen his office door. Said door was plastered with violently anti-abortion stickers, his card stating that he was a charter member of the NRA, and various other frighteningly conservative propaganda. And I do mean plastered- not one or two posters, but covered from top to bottom.
Last summer, on the occasion of going to the English Departmental pre-school-year party, I actually met the man. He was Ryan's advisor (Poor Ryan), and Ryan couldn't very well not speak to the man without being blatantly rude. Introductions were made, and during the course of the conversation, the drunken sot made a pointedly lewd comment to me, basically insinuating that I was dressed like a whore (knee-length denim skirt, sandals, and a salmon halter from Banana Republic, who does NOT make whore-y clothes. Bastard.).
On the way to my car at lunch, I saw him coming up in the same direction I was headed. I'm not all that tall, but what I have in height is all legs. I can walk pretty damned fast. And I was milking that speed as much as possible without actually breaking into a flat out run. This man is very tiny- about 5'4, maybe. The swarmy bastard caught up with me. I felt his beady little rat eyes glaring into my ass the whole time, and then I heard his voice from right behind me.
"Nice belt," he said. (Yeah, right, asshole!) "If you walk fast we can walk together."
OH MY GOD. You nasty little man. At this point, he was right along side me (does he have superspeed?), and I sort of half-stopped and cringed. It was an automatic reaction and I couldn't stop it. He just carried on like nothing (Meanwhile I'm starting to drag my feet), and started talking about the construction that's all over campus, and the budget and whatnot. I trudged on to the car, trying to ignore him by not looking at him, but grumbling mono-syllabic responses so as to maintain some semblance of a professional attitude (what else is there to do?). Luckily, when we reached the parking lot our cars were on opposite ends.
Eeww. Stupid evil man. I IMed Ryan about it when I got back, and he said that he ought to go "beat his mousy little ass." Which would be really nice, actually, even though I'm usually not all about the violence. Eww. ¶ 6/07/2002 01:29:00 PM
Last summer, on the occasion of going to the English Departmental pre-school-year party, I actually met the man. He was Ryan's advisor (Poor Ryan), and Ryan couldn't very well not speak to the man without being blatantly rude. Introductions were made, and during the course of the conversation, the drunken sot made a pointedly lewd comment to me, basically insinuating that I was dressed like a whore (knee-length denim skirt, sandals, and a salmon halter from Banana Republic, who does NOT make whore-y clothes. Bastard.).
On the way to my car at lunch, I saw him coming up in the same direction I was headed. I'm not all that tall, but what I have in height is all legs. I can walk pretty damned fast. And I was milking that speed as much as possible without actually breaking into a flat out run. This man is very tiny- about 5'4, maybe. The swarmy bastard caught up with me. I felt his beady little rat eyes glaring into my ass the whole time, and then I heard his voice from right behind me.
"Nice belt," he said. (Yeah, right, asshole!) "If you walk fast we can walk together."
OH MY GOD. You nasty little man. At this point, he was right along side me (does he have superspeed?), and I sort of half-stopped and cringed. It was an automatic reaction and I couldn't stop it. He just carried on like nothing (Meanwhile I'm starting to drag my feet), and started talking about the construction that's all over campus, and the budget and whatnot. I trudged on to the car, trying to ignore him by not looking at him, but grumbling mono-syllabic responses so as to maintain some semblance of a professional attitude (what else is there to do?). Luckily, when we reached the parking lot our cars were on opposite ends.
Eeww. Stupid evil man. I IMed Ryan about it when I got back, and he said that he ought to go "beat his mousy little ass." Which would be really nice, actually, even though I'm usually not all about the violence. Eww. ¶ 6/07/2002 01:29:00 PM
We did NOT get the DTV working last night. Dammit. It's all set up, but the guy that was supposed to re-program the card for us did not.
However, Ryan was very sexy straddling a step ladder, cigarette dangling out of his mouth, back arched to get a good angle on the satellite he was installing on the roof, casually tightening the screws. Mmm. I like this handy man business. ¶ 6/07/2002 09:23:00 AM
However, Ryan was very sexy straddling a step ladder, cigarette dangling out of his mouth, back arched to get a good angle on the satellite he was installing on the roof, casually tightening the screws. Mmm. I like this handy man business. ¶ 6/07/2002 09:23:00 AM
6/06/2002
Today is one of those days in which I have gotten no less than 5 random IM's attempting to solicit me to visit random porn sites. God, I hate that.
I also got an email with "Impotence Got You Down?" in the subject line, which made me chuckle. ¶ 6/06/2002 03:59:00 PM
I also got an email with "Impotence Got You Down?" in the subject line, which made me chuckle. ¶ 6/06/2002 03:59:00 PM
6/05/2002
Despite the fact that it's rather old hat now, this review of Spiderman makes all the points I would have made had I been bothered to write a review.
(Now I feel better about the slackage, because I really, truly meant to write something. And it bothered me that I could find the time to write something about Texas Rangers, a Dawson movie for crying out loud, but not Spidey, who is my everlastin' hero). ¶ 6/05/2002 09:22:00 AM
(Now I feel better about the slackage, because I really, truly meant to write something. And it bothered me that I could find the time to write something about Texas Rangers, a Dawson movie for crying out loud, but not Spidey, who is my everlastin' hero). ¶ 6/05/2002 09:22:00 AM
Oh HELL yeah! Just happened to be at Alicia's to catch the game-winning goal in OT. WHOO Carolina!
In other news, we should have TV again on Thursday. Thank heavens.
We also made it to Blockbuster last night, and we rented the Britney game. Poor Ryan got balked at by the clerk, who actually had the audacity to ask why the hell he was renting something with Britney Spears on the label (and then proceeded to call the other clerk over so he could balk, too). Ryan, of course, jumped back and waggled his finger furiously in my direction. "It's for her," he insisted.
Ha. When we got back to the house, who played the first round? Not I.
That game is hella hard. I love Bust-A-Groove. It's one of my favorite video games ever. Britney's Dance Beat is made by the same folks with the same premise- you have to hit certain key combos on the beat in order to make your character dance properly. The main difference is that you are supposedly auditioning to be one of Britney's tour dancers rather than competing in a dance-a-thon, and every song you dance to is a goddamn Britney song (and they only give you five), which gets really annoying after a while. But. The game is really, really hard. Once you get past the first couple of levels, it just gets nuts. I love it. ¶ 6/05/2002 08:46:00 AM
In other news, we should have TV again on Thursday. Thank heavens.
We also made it to Blockbuster last night, and we rented the Britney game. Poor Ryan got balked at by the clerk, who actually had the audacity to ask why the hell he was renting something with Britney Spears on the label (and then proceeded to call the other clerk over so he could balk, too). Ryan, of course, jumped back and waggled his finger furiously in my direction. "It's for her," he insisted.
Ha. When we got back to the house, who played the first round? Not I.
That game is hella hard. I love Bust-A-Groove. It's one of my favorite video games ever. Britney's Dance Beat is made by the same folks with the same premise- you have to hit certain key combos on the beat in order to make your character dance properly. The main difference is that you are supposedly auditioning to be one of Britney's tour dancers rather than competing in a dance-a-thon, and every song you dance to is a goddamn Britney song (and they only give you five), which gets really annoying after a while. But. The game is really, really hard. Once you get past the first couple of levels, it just gets nuts. I love it. ¶ 6/05/2002 08:46:00 AM
6/04/2002
I really hate not having TV. I don't think I've gotten into this before, but Ryan and I haven't had any television for about two months. It's not really so bad (especially now that the season finalies of things have all passed, and luckily I have friends who watch the same shows I do and got tapes when they did happen), but I'm really starting to miss it. Especially now that we live far enough out of town that going to and from Blockbuster isn't so convenient anymore. But I digress.
The TV situation is thus: We were more or less hacking Direct TV, and they restructured and sent everyone new cards and it ceased to work. For about $30 we can fix it and continue as before, but frankly we just hadn't bothered because we were both too busy and too broke due to the move to care. Now we've done the bulk of the move, and I miss television. Especially with the lack of blockbuster. And (getting to the point, finally) I really want to watch the Stanley Cup Finals. I haven't watched a play-off game since the Flyers lost (sore spot, not going to talk about that anymore). But now that the Hurricanes have made it, I'm itching for some good Hockey.
Ryan and I were talking about my philosophy about Hockey, and sports in general, which revolves around Good Guy Teams and Bad Guy Teams, rather like Superheroes and their pantheons of supervillans in a comic book. Now the reason that I love Ryan is that I can explain theories like this, with all seriousness, and he nods encouragingly and even agrees with me sometimes. Most people go "Uh-huh" in that really super perky way and then change the subject very quickly. That translates to "I haven't got a fucking clue what you're talking about, you crazy Fuck, but I'll just ignore it and move on."
*wondering if you are doing that now*
Anyroad, Carolina is a Good Guy Team. I haven't watched them much, but I have no animosity whatsoever towards them, in either the sense that they are inately evil or in that they are in any fierce opposition to the Flyers (who will ever be my first and most important Hockey love). They've also got that underdog quality that I'm such a sucker for. On top of all of this, I'm likely to live in North Carolina in the next few years, and one of the things that excites me about the prospect is the ability to be able to go to Hockey games. It works so nicely- I have no predetermined antagonism towards Carolina, and I think I could be a fan (so long as they weren't playing the Flyers).
And the Cup Finals start TONIGHT and I want to watch them. But there's no TV. And while Alicia was very understanding about Ryan and I bombarding her living room for those last few Flyers games, I can't really do that for Carolina, because it isn't that important. On the other hand, I'd really like to watch, and to get to know them a little better. And cheer at the top of my lungs for them to BEAT THE LIVING HELL out of Detroit, who is, of course, very much a Bad Guy Team.
¶ 6/04/2002 03:06:00 PM
The TV situation is thus: We were more or less hacking Direct TV, and they restructured and sent everyone new cards and it ceased to work. For about $30 we can fix it and continue as before, but frankly we just hadn't bothered because we were both too busy and too broke due to the move to care. Now we've done the bulk of the move, and I miss television. Especially with the lack of blockbuster. And (getting to the point, finally) I really want to watch the Stanley Cup Finals. I haven't watched a play-off game since the Flyers lost (sore spot, not going to talk about that anymore). But now that the Hurricanes have made it, I'm itching for some good Hockey.
Ryan and I were talking about my philosophy about Hockey, and sports in general, which revolves around Good Guy Teams and Bad Guy Teams, rather like Superheroes and their pantheons of supervillans in a comic book. Now the reason that I love Ryan is that I can explain theories like this, with all seriousness, and he nods encouragingly and even agrees with me sometimes. Most people go "Uh-huh" in that really super perky way and then change the subject very quickly. That translates to "I haven't got a fucking clue what you're talking about, you crazy Fuck, but I'll just ignore it and move on."
*wondering if you are doing that now*
Anyroad, Carolina is a Good Guy Team. I haven't watched them much, but I have no animosity whatsoever towards them, in either the sense that they are inately evil or in that they are in any fierce opposition to the Flyers (who will ever be my first and most important Hockey love). They've also got that underdog quality that I'm such a sucker for. On top of all of this, I'm likely to live in North Carolina in the next few years, and one of the things that excites me about the prospect is the ability to be able to go to Hockey games. It works so nicely- I have no predetermined antagonism towards Carolina, and I think I could be a fan (so long as they weren't playing the Flyers).
And the Cup Finals start TONIGHT and I want to watch them. But there's no TV. And while Alicia was very understanding about Ryan and I bombarding her living room for those last few Flyers games, I can't really do that for Carolina, because it isn't that important. On the other hand, I'd really like to watch, and to get to know them a little better. And cheer at the top of my lungs for them to BEAT THE LIVING HELL out of Detroit, who is, of course, very much a Bad Guy Team.
¶ 6/04/2002 03:06:00 PM
I must have a tattoo.
Prior to about an hour ago, I'd been carrying around the thought that a tattoo on my hip (an ankh, I had decided) would be both pretty and sexy, and that sometime I would get around to getting one. Benefits other than asthetics of getting it on my hip included being able to cover it up for work and the nice little love-handle like padding that would make it not so painful.
And then I had an epiphany. Of wings, on my ankle, so that I will always have on winged sandals. And I can FEEL it tingling where they would go, as if it's itching to have them there.
Dammit. Now my entire philosophy of the relationship between tattoos and me has to be re-evaluated. I always thought just one would do, and I was all about the pain avoidance. And now, I MUST have wings on my ankle, but that doesn't elimate the possibilty of having an ankh on my hip. AND, ankles are very very painful (at least my lust doesn't involve the spine. Cuz DAMN.).
Now I have to find some money and a proper set of wings. ¶ 6/04/2002 12:01:00 PM
Prior to about an hour ago, I'd been carrying around the thought that a tattoo on my hip (an ankh, I had decided) would be both pretty and sexy, and that sometime I would get around to getting one. Benefits other than asthetics of getting it on my hip included being able to cover it up for work and the nice little love-handle like padding that would make it not so painful.
And then I had an epiphany. Of wings, on my ankle, so that I will always have on winged sandals. And I can FEEL it tingling where they would go, as if it's itching to have them there.
Dammit. Now my entire philosophy of the relationship between tattoos and me has to be re-evaluated. I always thought just one would do, and I was all about the pain avoidance. And now, I MUST have wings on my ankle, but that doesn't elimate the possibilty of having an ankh on my hip. AND, ankles are very very painful (at least my lust doesn't involve the spine. Cuz DAMN.).
Now I have to find some money and a proper set of wings. ¶ 6/04/2002 12:01:00 PM
6/03/2002
Long, long day today.
This weekend was cool, even thought there was no rest. My dad (who lives a bit north of Memphis, out in the boonies) had a birthday party, and there was music and swimming and barbeque. On the way home there was a weird moment in which The Fast and the Furious came to life around me, but I didn't die. Sunday was back to Memphis, and shopping. Lots. Of. Shopping.
We now have a new comforter set; a tangerine, lemon, and lime colored bathroom; new curtains; placemats; rugs.... a hamper. Lots of little things that I can't recall (although it all added up to quite a lot of money), though I was sure at the time we bought it that we desperately needed them. It was great fun, and now our house is starting to look more like a home.
Today, however, sucked. First, it's Monday. You should already know how I feel about that. And work (see below). And my car decided that it was going to need to have its coolant flushed, which is going to cost money that was spent on scented candles and new potholders and the like. Damn.
The landlord "dropped by" at lunch (please do not let this be a common occurence, but I've got a bad feeling), and while that saved us the trouble of taking the rent check to him, it made me late to work. Not to mention the fact that he keeps asking us what church we go to, and we keep telling him that we don't. It's starting to be really uncomfortable. He's the kind of guy to whom you cannot casually respond with, "Well, you know, I really don't go in for that whole organized religion thing...Especially Christianity. I'm far more partial to pre-christian pantheons." Nah. Wouldn't work at all.
¶ 6/03/2002 05:06:00 PM
This weekend was cool, even thought there was no rest. My dad (who lives a bit north of Memphis, out in the boonies) had a birthday party, and there was music and swimming and barbeque. On the way home there was a weird moment in which The Fast and the Furious came to life around me, but I didn't die. Sunday was back to Memphis, and shopping. Lots. Of. Shopping.
We now have a new comforter set; a tangerine, lemon, and lime colored bathroom; new curtains; placemats; rugs.... a hamper. Lots of little things that I can't recall (although it all added up to quite a lot of money), though I was sure at the time we bought it that we desperately needed them. It was great fun, and now our house is starting to look more like a home.
Today, however, sucked. First, it's Monday. You should already know how I feel about that. And work (see below). And my car decided that it was going to need to have its coolant flushed, which is going to cost money that was spent on scented candles and new potholders and the like. Damn.
The landlord "dropped by" at lunch (please do not let this be a common occurence, but I've got a bad feeling), and while that saved us the trouble of taking the rent check to him, it made me late to work. Not to mention the fact that he keeps asking us what church we go to, and we keep telling him that we don't. It's starting to be really uncomfortable. He's the kind of guy to whom you cannot casually respond with, "Well, you know, I really don't go in for that whole organized religion thing...Especially Christianity. I'm far more partial to pre-christian pantheons." Nah. Wouldn't work at all.
¶ 6/03/2002 05:06:00 PM
Do you know what I hate? I hate it when someone asks that you take over a project, and you agree. And the project has a deadline, and they want it done right away. But the person who wants it has to do something to it before you can proceed, and it just sits on their desk for several days.... and then they wonder why you're busting your ass at the last minute trying to get it done.
¶ 6/03/2002 09:30:00 AM
¶ 6/03/2002 09:30:00 AM
6/02/2002
I had to temporarily take down the tagboard. For some odd reason, my mac absolutely refuses to interpret the code for it, and everything was all wonky. The blog was showing up inside the message board, which is just not ok. I will NOT do any template updates from home again, ever. Gah. I'll put the tagboard back up tomorrow from work.
¶ 6/02/2002 10:45:00 AM
¶ 6/02/2002 10:45:00 AM
