Argephontes
6/21/2002
You would think that the population of the town I live in would be, say, on it's Chamber of Commerce website. Or possibly on the city website (which seems to be entirely defunct), or even on the campus website.
It's not in any of those places.
I finally found a nice little article in some random magazine that had a number. I'm sticking with it, as I've expended far too much effort on such a trivial matter already. ¶ 6/21/2002 02:20:00 PM
It's not in any of those places.
I finally found a nice little article in some random magazine that had a number. I'm sticking with it, as I've expended far too much effort on such a trivial matter already. ¶ 6/21/2002 02:20:00 PM
I can tell that its time for a vacation. It's hot. Work is annoying me. Sitting around at home is nice, but then I get restless. I pretty much have to just up and go away every 3-4 months. It's like an itch that slowly spreads until its consumed you and you just have to GO AWAY. Usually there's a proper week or two of vacation in the summer, and again in December. In the spring and fall I usually only manage to escape for a long weekend, but that's really all that's required.
I don't understand why this is. I cannot fathom having a job that allows 2 weeks of vacation- period- and you leave town only once per year. I realize that the majority of Americans function under this principle. However, I would quite definately go insane. This is one of the reasons I continue to work where I work. I could probably find a job that paid better, but I cherish the freedom of being able to just take a long weekend because I need to. The fact that two weeks of paid Christmas vacation doesn't count against your earned vacation hours. I bitch about being underpaid, but you really can't beat that.
August cannot come fast enough. Hurry up, I wanna go ride rollercoasters, feel the sand under my toes, and be somewhere other than here. ¶ 6/21/2002 01:48:00 PM
I don't understand why this is. I cannot fathom having a job that allows 2 weeks of vacation- period- and you leave town only once per year. I realize that the majority of Americans function under this principle. However, I would quite definately go insane. This is one of the reasons I continue to work where I work. I could probably find a job that paid better, but I cherish the freedom of being able to just take a long weekend because I need to. The fact that two weeks of paid Christmas vacation doesn't count against your earned vacation hours. I bitch about being underpaid, but you really can't beat that.
August cannot come fast enough. Hurry up, I wanna go ride rollercoasters, feel the sand under my toes, and be somewhere other than here. ¶ 6/21/2002 01:48:00 PM
And once again, evidence that Work Avoidance leads to doing the Friday Five....
1. Do you live in a house, an apartment or a condo? 3 bedroom house.
2. Do you rent or own? Oh, please. a) We couldn't afford to buy a house if we wanted to, and b) We sure as hell wouldn't buy one here.
3. Does anyone else live with you? Well, as evidenced by the previous "we," there is Ryan (the boyfriend). We've also got a Dawg and two Kitties.
4. How many times have you moved in your life? Hmmmm... I think 14. Unless I'm missing something from early childhood that I don't remember (which probably shouldn't count anyway).
5. What are your plans for this weekend? Well, some people have to work on Sunday. Dammit. So I'm going to get as much slackage as possible in tomorrow. ¶ 6/21/2002 11:22:00 AM
1. Do you live in a house, an apartment or a condo? 3 bedroom house.
2. Do you rent or own? Oh, please. a) We couldn't afford to buy a house if we wanted to, and b) We sure as hell wouldn't buy one here.
3. Does anyone else live with you? Well, as evidenced by the previous "we," there is Ryan (the boyfriend). We've also got a Dawg and two Kitties.
4. How many times have you moved in your life? Hmmmm... I think 14. Unless I'm missing something from early childhood that I don't remember (which probably shouldn't count anyway).
5. What are your plans for this weekend? Well, some people have to work on Sunday. Dammit. So I'm going to get as much slackage as possible in tomorrow. ¶ 6/21/2002 11:22:00 AM
6/19/2002
If it kills me, I'm going to get in shape.
First, I'm tired of my clothes not fitting. My size is fine. If it would just stay put. It fluctuates just enough so that I can't keep wearing the same clothes. This is annoying, as I am poor and cannot afford to purchase new wardrobe every few months.
Second, I've got quite a few jiggly bits. I look fine in clothes (if they fit, see above), but the jiggly bits are kinda ick. I could look better in a tank top. I could certainly lose a bit around the middle (no belly shirts for me!). So exercizing will help that.
Third. Stairs. Long hikes through the Wolfchase Galleria. Treks through the parking lot on a hot day. All of these things make me tired. And that's sad. I'm 23 years old.... I should really be in better shape than that. I know it partly has to do with smoking, but not all of it. I've been kinda inactive for a long time. This must end.
So Alicia and I are going to the gym again. We tried this before, but we were really bad about doing anything except Yoga. Yoga was good. Walking on a treadmill, however, can be very boring. We're trying to brainstorm things that we can do that we can pretend we are doing for the sake of its being fun rather than for the sake of our asses.
For example, we played racquetball yesterday. My Dad used to play alot, and he has even less patience than I do. So I thought it would be fun to try. I love it. I got really hot and sweaty and I'm sore as hell today. Exactly what I want out of a workout. We didn't even have a clue as to how to play- we started off trying to play as though it were tennis, which didn't really work. Then I made up rules where we played facing away from eachother by bouncing it against the walls. That worked. I did some research online today, and I now know that if you took both of the ways we played, turned it inside out and threw in a few extra guidelines, then you've have the Real Way. We'll see how that goes next time.
This afternoon we're going rollerblading. I cannot stop on inline skates without either running into a tree or flinging myself onto a grassy embankment. This should be interesting. ¶ 6/19/2002 02:59:00 PM
First, I'm tired of my clothes not fitting. My size is fine. If it would just stay put. It fluctuates just enough so that I can't keep wearing the same clothes. This is annoying, as I am poor and cannot afford to purchase new wardrobe every few months.
Second, I've got quite a few jiggly bits. I look fine in clothes (if they fit, see above), but the jiggly bits are kinda ick. I could look better in a tank top. I could certainly lose a bit around the middle (no belly shirts for me!). So exercizing will help that.
Third. Stairs. Long hikes through the Wolfchase Galleria. Treks through the parking lot on a hot day. All of these things make me tired. And that's sad. I'm 23 years old.... I should really be in better shape than that. I know it partly has to do with smoking, but not all of it. I've been kinda inactive for a long time. This must end.
So Alicia and I are going to the gym again. We tried this before, but we were really bad about doing anything except Yoga. Yoga was good. Walking on a treadmill, however, can be very boring. We're trying to brainstorm things that we can do that we can pretend we are doing for the sake of its being fun rather than for the sake of our asses.
For example, we played racquetball yesterday. My Dad used to play alot, and he has even less patience than I do. So I thought it would be fun to try. I love it. I got really hot and sweaty and I'm sore as hell today. Exactly what I want out of a workout. We didn't even have a clue as to how to play- we started off trying to play as though it were tennis, which didn't really work. Then I made up rules where we played facing away from eachother by bouncing it against the walls. That worked. I did some research online today, and I now know that if you took both of the ways we played, turned it inside out and threw in a few extra guidelines, then you've have the Real Way. We'll see how that goes next time.
This afternoon we're going rollerblading. I cannot stop on inline skates without either running into a tree or flinging myself onto a grassy embankment. This should be interesting. ¶ 6/19/2002 02:59:00 PM
6/17/2002
As promised...
The Weekly Round-Up
6/09/02 - 6/14/02
High Maintainence: Courtney's pimping herself, you can check her stats. Oh wait.. no. Her family's stats. It's like a resume for good breeding! And Court is... chocolate kisses. And coming home.
Stupid O'Clock: Hell has frozen over, the world stopped turning, and the Mississippi is running backwards. Ryan posted. After the weekend trauma with the four-wheeler... and the barbed wired fence, Ryan is terrorized by a little old lady.
Steve ponders the implications of being a 23 year old male who watches "Saved By the Bell" every day. And yes, there IS something wrong with that. Steve's conflict with his inner child also carries into prom night dance routines in high school movies, which, despite being "wacky ass," should appear in other genres.
Do You Mind?: Justine, alas, has not graced us with her yoda-esque wisdom this week. She is Canadian, so maybe she caught Stanley Cup Fever and hasn't yet recovered.
ClusterFuck: Alicia has cancer, so she feels that giving away her last muscle relaxers were an extra good deed. The Divine Hand of Debbie reached out and she is cured. Alicia has her own stats, 101 to be exact. The Holy Ass, who must have been angered by the Divine Hand Of Debbie's interference in the cancer, caused her to trip over her platforms, which "hurt". She wants new clothes. And Bitch Pants.
The Highlight of the Week is Funny Shit People Said, starring... me. And my complete and utter lack of tact.
Alicia makes a trip to Tupelo to be measured for the Bridesmaid Dress of Death, which is laden with frustration and the sense of Being Ripped Off. And, she's Irish. Her family doesn't really talk about about the past, which is too bad, because they're Irish. On a positive note, I rock.
Chasm: God hates Jen, because Colin Firth is married. With the help of Orson Scott Card, her brain has ceased to ooze from her head (which is good. Jen has really long hair, see. And I would think it would get pretty matted). "American Idol" offers obscene fasination.
The Highlight of the Week comes as she imagines the Lusty Nazi Professor (who frightens everyone, apparently) in monk's garb. Anyone ever read Heart of Empire? There's this monk, and he's nasty. Anyway.
We discover that Jen has a superpower enabling her to live off of pretend-food, such as WOW! chips, sherbet, and 2% cheese. (What, might I ask, is the other 98%?)
¶ 6/17/2002 10:31:00 AM
The Weekly Round-Up
6/09/02 - 6/14/02
High Maintainence: Courtney's pimping herself, you can check her stats. Oh wait.. no. Her family's stats. It's like a resume for good breeding! And Court is... chocolate kisses. And coming home.
Stupid O'Clock: Hell has frozen over, the world stopped turning, and the Mississippi is running backwards. Ryan posted. After the weekend trauma with the four-wheeler... and the barbed wired fence, Ryan is terrorized by a little old lady.
Steve ponders the implications of being a 23 year old male who watches "Saved By the Bell" every day. And yes, there IS something wrong with that. Steve's conflict with his inner child also carries into prom night dance routines in high school movies, which, despite being "wacky ass," should appear in other genres.
Do You Mind?: Justine, alas, has not graced us with her yoda-esque wisdom this week. She is Canadian, so maybe she caught Stanley Cup Fever and hasn't yet recovered.
ClusterFuck: Alicia has cancer, so she feels that giving away her last muscle relaxers were an extra good deed. The Divine Hand of Debbie reached out and she is cured. Alicia has her own stats, 101 to be exact. The Holy Ass, who must have been angered by the Divine Hand Of Debbie's interference in the cancer, caused her to trip over her platforms, which "hurt". She wants new clothes. And Bitch Pants.
The Highlight of the Week is Funny Shit People Said, starring... me. And my complete and utter lack of tact.
Alicia makes a trip to Tupelo to be measured for the Bridesmaid Dress of Death, which is laden with frustration and the sense of Being Ripped Off. And, she's Irish. Her family doesn't really talk about about the past, which is too bad, because they're Irish. On a positive note, I rock.
Chasm: God hates Jen, because Colin Firth is married. With the help of Orson Scott Card, her brain has ceased to ooze from her head (which is good. Jen has really long hair, see. And I would think it would get pretty matted). "American Idol" offers obscene fasination.
The Highlight of the Week comes as she imagines the Lusty Nazi Professor (who frightens everyone, apparently) in monk's garb. Anyone ever read Heart of Empire? There's this monk, and he's nasty. Anyway.
We discover that Jen has a superpower enabling her to live off of pretend-food, such as WOW! chips, sherbet, and 2% cheese. (What, might I ask, is the other 98%?)
¶ 6/17/2002 10:31:00 AM
6/16/2002
Forgive me while I get all maudlin for a moment.
I'm sitting here between advising appointments (yes, Orientation means I have to work on Sundays), thinking about how glad I am that Court is finally bringing her ass back home. She finally moved back to Oxford- she isn't allowed to leave for a whole month anymore. And I'm thinking about how very lucky I am.
Girls who have that one best friend who shares everything are really lucky. Girls who have three are beyond lucky. They are truly blessed.
I don't know what I would do without my girls. Alicia, Amy, and Courtney are the pieces that fit together to make me complete ( I'm talking Womanhood here, so this has nothing to do with Ryan. He is an entity unto himself). I was thinking about the whole friend thing. And this is what I think: Court, my oldest friend, sister, and my gal is my heart. I've known and loved her for as long as I can remember. Alicia, who I've really known only for a couple of years (Where were you in High School, dammit!), is my brain. We just click. We "get" eachother in a way that is inexplicable, and our ideas are enhanced by it. We will never stop learning from eachother. Amy is my soul. I've known Amy for four years, and we have so much in common. Our backgrounds, our trials and tribulations... they mirror eachother. Even though we may not have the same interests and tastes, we understand eachother, and we'll always be that rock to help the other get through the bad times, and enjoy the good times more.
Damn. I hate getting all sappy. But I just thought of that, and it made me feel all mushy and gooey and happy. And I just had to say it. ¶ 6/16/2002 03:51:00 PM
I'm sitting here between advising appointments (yes, Orientation means I have to work on Sundays), thinking about how glad I am that Court is finally bringing her ass back home. She finally moved back to Oxford- she isn't allowed to leave for a whole month anymore. And I'm thinking about how very lucky I am.
Girls who have that one best friend who shares everything are really lucky. Girls who have three are beyond lucky. They are truly blessed.
I don't know what I would do without my girls. Alicia, Amy, and Courtney are the pieces that fit together to make me complete ( I'm talking Womanhood here, so this has nothing to do with Ryan. He is an entity unto himself). I was thinking about the whole friend thing. And this is what I think: Court, my oldest friend, sister, and my gal is my heart. I've known and loved her for as long as I can remember. Alicia, who I've really known only for a couple of years (Where were you in High School, dammit!), is my brain. We just click. We "get" eachother in a way that is inexplicable, and our ideas are enhanced by it. We will never stop learning from eachother. Amy is my soul. I've known Amy for four years, and we have so much in common. Our backgrounds, our trials and tribulations... they mirror eachother. Even though we may not have the same interests and tastes, we understand eachother, and we'll always be that rock to help the other get through the bad times, and enjoy the good times more.
Damn. I hate getting all sappy. But I just thought of that, and it made me feel all mushy and gooey and happy. And I just had to say it. ¶ 6/16/2002 03:51:00 PM
