bewize

I just walked into my house from my whirlwind trip to Rome to see my dad/spring his minion from jail/etc. I'm on the phone and I walk in and see two of the cats staring at me, but I think nothing of it. Then I see a pile of... something on the floor. Hairball. Great.

Then I see a while lot of... something... scattered around, but there's a blanket next to it and I decide that it must be string or something. Then I round the corner and see a third cat looking at me suspiciously. Another hairball.

Then I see *it*.

Only, I have no idea what *it* is. I approach with caution and find, to my horror, a dead bird. I think it's a sparrow.

So, now I'm left with a better understanding of what the stuff on the floor is (feathers), why the house is destroyed, and why the cats all look jumpy. What I cannot understand is where the HELL did the bird come from???

I was in a hurry this morning, but there is NO WAY I would have missed a bird flying around. Doors were closed. Windows were closed and have screens.

I guess it came down the chimney, but damn! That bird picked the wrong fucking chimney.



RIP, birdie. RIP.

(And, please, don't be like a zombie bird or something. That will really ruin my night tonight.)

ETA: I've been informed that dead sparrows in a house when you can't tell where they came from are actually harbingers of death. So, well... not much I can do about that little fact, is there. *woes*

LOL. If this is it, folks, it's been a hell of a ride. I hope I go with less trauma than the birdie!

Last night marks the sixth(?) night in a row I've had nightmares. I'm falling alseep okay, but I wake myself up around 3 or so and just never get back to sleep for any more real rest. Of course, the fact that I"m having a nightmare means I'm not resting that much to begin with.

My eyes are both twitching and both burning like mad. I had someone comment today that I "look tired" and that is always just annoying. Of course, it's true. I look like someone hit me in the face. Twice. LOL.

And on that note, I'm going to go to bed.

Maybe I'll even sleep. XD

C and I hit the Jagermeister Tour last night and saw Hell Yeah and Buckcherry. It was tremendous fun, as always, but for us - it was a bit on the tame side. LOL.

We ate at Sidebar and started making a dent in our sobriety there, but managed to get to the concert literally with enough time to grab a beer and watch Hell Yeah. Loud, awesome, fun. The music basically felt like a living being pushing through the crowd. You could feel it in your chest and in your ears and everywhere. Being in a crowd like that, it's strangely one of the few places that it's possible to just... not care so much about stuff.

When Hell Yeah was over, C went to the restroom and left me standing by the bar (our spot). It didn't take more than a minute before this very drunk (and slightly creepy) guy appears next to me and says, "DAMN!"

I replied, "What?"

"You're hot."

And it went downhill from there, only in a funny watching a ski video crash on youtube sort of downhill. His friend "Kevin" also joined in the conversation and the next thing I know, I'm being asked, "So, do you like to have a good time?"

Now, there are so *many* places that question can lead that I couldn't help myself. "I always like a good time. What did you have in mind?"

"What are you doing tonight?"

"Drinking and watching this concert."

"Oh, well we have a hotel room..."

I confess. I really thought he was going the drug route. I was surprised to be so blatantly propositioned. I was also grateful that C picked that moment to show up again. Drunk Guy was NOT, since he literally threw his hand out between C and me and said, "Whoa!"

C blinked, smirked and said, "Really???"

At that point, Drunk Guy and C started talking and I heard bits of the conversation like, "What do you do with her?" "I can make a few suggestions." Yeah, thanks C. Encourage this one. LOL.

"Kevin" bought me a beer and then said, "We're both married. Our wives are over here. Come and meet them."

I tried to talk "Kevin" out of buying me a drink, but when he insisted I finally just took it. Who am I to turn down free beer? We extricated ourselves, did NOT go meet the wives, and basically laughed about it for the next hour, recalling stories from last year, when "Jesus" took a "laying on of the hands" approach to hitting on me and then his tatted friend finally intervening with, "Don't make me kick Jesus' ass!"

So, we get to the end of Buckcherry, the lights go on, and this girl walks by me. Now, don't get me wrong, I can appreciate the female form with the best of them, but I rarely do a double take of appreciation and I did with this girl. She saw me and came over to chat. The next thing I know, "Hey, we've got a bottle of Jack in the hotel room. Do you guys wanna come over with us?"

*headdesk* (I was clearly having a good hair day. But, IDEK...)

Her girlfriend, by the way, was equally as hot. We ended up chatting with them for quite a while so she could get her boob signed by the lead singer of Hell Yeah. Then we made our way to Sidebar, got stopped by a guy with an interest in knowing if we were affiliated with law enforcement and possibly selling us "something the powdery color of that car," and finally ordered another drink for the evening.

Then, lo and frigging behold, "Kevin" and Drunk Guy show up. They proceed to stare at us so hard that it freaked me out and we finally bailed. Of course, by this time, it's half past one and we're waiting on the last marta train (sounds like a song, yes?) to get us back to Decatur.

At this point, we compare notes and agree - kind of tame for us. LOL.

But, it was fun and I'm glad we went. Even if I did only get about 4 hours of sleep. I'm sure I'll regret that in the wee hours on the way to FL, but right now I'm just amused.

**************

All that said, I do think I'm going to slow down a bit in March. I need to focus on some things and I can't do it very well while living the Rock and Roll lifestyle. You've got my number though. (And so does the hot chick from last night.)

It could be the congestion that gave it away. Or the sinus pressure that is so bad it's making my teeth hurt. Or the hacking cough. Or, perhaps even the fact that I can't sleep through the entire night because I wake up with ick dripping down my face.

But, what really gave it away... my left eye is swelling shut.

I bed the damn doctor will wish he'd listened to me a few weeks ago when I told him I needed more antibiotics. I am now eat up with whatever this is...

And here I thought I might make it through the winter without the plague (xxfingersxx on the pneumonia thing, please. I need all the luck I can get!).

I guess I'm going to have to see the doctor tomorrow. Damn it.

********************

So, Jules broke her arm. Why am I always the last to know? (It's Facebook, isn't it? My punishment for not liking Facebook.)

*********************

My insane work week is paying off. I've got 58 things on my To Do list and I think about 45 of them are crossed off. Some of the others are short. All may be manageable by tomorrow - and tha will be the first time my To Do list has EVER gotten done. So, I'm not holding my breath. I'm just in a permanent wink. ;)

**********************

It's after midnight and I"m sitting here with tissues crammed up my nose to stop the leaking. Despite the fact that the doc told me to stop doing that. He can sit around and leak all over his face, then, and GIVE TO ME THE DRUGS I NEED.

Night all!

2011 isn't looking any better than 2010.

Guess who got a stomach bug at about 7 tonight?

There are days I really hate my life.

Yesterday, I did something very stupid. I admit it. I will even admit that I deserved to be fussed at (which I was) and that I certainly won't do it again. But, it's funny, so I'm sharing.

So, yesterday, I found out what happens when you wait to long to fill your gas tank. I knew I was about out; I was looking for a gas station, and my car just... started to stop. I managed through some Jedi mind-tricks to get the car across oncoming traffic without braking and into a CitGo station.

Now, let me set the stage. It's dusk. I have an hour+ drive to a closing. I'm already late. I'm in a business suit. I've got on heels. The parking lot is PACKED with cars. There are people - who all look very sketchy - going in and out of the store.

It turns out, that none of the gas pumps were physically present, except for three on the far right side. I was, of course, dead in the water on the left. So, I go inside, where everyone is staring at me like I'm an undercover cop. And in that part of town, being the color I am, it's not an entirely foregone conclusion.

Of course, it took them all about five seconds to realize that I was, instead, just a dumb white girl who ran out of gas. So, I purchased a gas canister and attempted to fill my car with enough gas to get it to run so I could move to the ONE functional pump. (Keep in mind, there is enough space for a dozen pumps. They're just... gone.)

After I provide much amusement to the spectators, one guy saunters over, "Awww, baby, don't you worry about a thing. I'm gonna take real good care of you."

Now I'm stuck. Because, quite honestly, I need someone to "take real good care of me" at that moment, but his demeanor and his opening line set my teeth on edge. So I tell myself, "Bewize, this is what you get for being a dumbass."

I promptly go into my meek and mild impression, and Ray helps me out. Of course, it turns out Ray has no idea what we're doing either, and half an hour later, we're both drenched in gasoline. My hands, my sleeves, my jacket, the outside of my car, my shoes - ditto for him. But we manage.

During the half hour, Ray reveals to me that he's waiting for his aunt to come out of the store. Now, I've been in that store at least 3 times by this point and there are no women in it. So I ask him where she is and he says, "Downstairs in the basement."

I'm super confused, so I ask what's in the basement.

A casino.

Wait, let me clarify.

An illegal casino.

Now it all makes sense.

Finally, between Ray and I, we are smart enough to get the car gassed and moving, and I fork over $10 as thanks for saving the "damsel in distress." He took it and I warned him against lighting a cigarette any time soon, then left for my destination. For which I was 90 minutes late.

By the time I got there, I was sky high on gas fumes.

SO LET THIS BE A LESSON TO YOU ALL. TAKE WARNING FROM MY FAILURE. DON'T RIDE THE "E"!!!

Or you just might end up in a sketchy part of town, in front of an illegal casino, with one functional gas pump, dependent upon a guy named Ray who promises to "take real good care of you."

~FIN~

When I got home yesterday, someone had double parked at the end of the row, preventing one of the three spots from being used. It's a total Dick Move.

So, V suggested I leave him a note, which is what I wanted to do anyway, so I wrote the following note: Please don't double park. We all use these spaces. Thanks.

LOL. This morning someone had taken my note and stabbed it through the bushes with a reply, "Yeah right."

Now, I don't know what that means. Did the double parker write that? Does that even make sense? Did someone else write it? Who knows.

P got home today and he had a text message, "P - did your wife or your visitor leave a note on my car?"

Jesus, dude, brood much? Get a grip already. *rolls eyes* I left you a nice note that said both please and thank you. If you're pissy cause I called you out, well, that's your problem isn't it?

Still, I hope he chills out before he causes a scene. He'd probably regret it.

I have health insurance finally, for the first time in over a year. And the very first thign they do? Refuse to pay something because they think it's related to a pre-existing condition.

FUCK THOSE GUYS.

It was a sinus infection, you morons.

Not a pre-existing condition.

DIE IN A FIRE.

Reading articles like this where people want to burn books both infuriates me and terrifies me. The main problem is that I can see where these parents are coming from - to a degree. They want to decide what is appropriate for their children to read.

Fine. With the issue aside that I strongly suspect they will raise intolerant children who share their same bigotry and bias, because how could they not since they aren't allowed to make up their own minds, it is the parents right to decide just this question of appropriateness.

My problem is that since when does it become the duty of the library to protect someone else's children? The library catalogs the books in the way that ALL libraries would catalog these books. (Librarians on my list, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't that the point of the current cataloging system?)

If parents want to keep their children from reading inappropriate things, then I suggest they read the books first. And if they don't like them, they can tell their kids no. Quit being lazy, intolerant book-burning freaks, and start being parents already.

Besides, parents have different views on things. To some, The Perks of Being a Wallflower may be deemed inappropriate for some children by their parents, and others might reject books where entire families are legally executed for the crimes of the father, daughters are offered by their fathers as rape victims, and innocent men are hung from crosses only to rise from the grave three days later.

My point: both books should be available and parents should get off their butts and make their own decisions and stop expecting libraries to do a parent's job. Otherwise, I suppose, we'll have to burn all the books and welcome back the Dark Ages.