I was HIGHLY DISAPPOINTED by Vanilla Ice on that repeat last night. That was lame as fuck.

David Sedaris has ruined Billie Holliday for me as well.

I am at my new job, but don't really feel like working. Whoops. At least at 10, there's a graduation thingie for the people who recently passed the GED test. So it's not like anyone's expecting me to get anything done this morning.

Happy Last Day, msbelle!

My boss isn't here. My office mate's boss isn't here. I should've brought a book.

Billie Holiday is unruinable even by the most skilled impersonator, not to mention the legion of unskilled ones.

Why do people do stupid shit? One of the people I had dinner with last night has neck problems that might result in paralysis if he takes a hit the wrong way. Another has bone chips floating around in her thumb. He waited until the day before the big test to decide he wasn't going to to it. She did the test anyway.

And that's not even heroism (let's for the moment ignore my own tweaked wrist). That's just ... tying up too much of your own wellbeing in what you can and do do. There's a picture in your head of a martial artist (or an FBI agent) and it involves certain things -- not being a wuss, being tough, having heart, and these things are in service of a certain goal, and not achieving that goal means you are a wuss with no heart and really what were you thinking getting into this anyway?

Or that's how it works in my head.

I was HIGHLY DISAPPOINTED by Vanilla Ice on that repeat last night. That was lame as fuck.

Did he even do the Destiny's Child song at all? Or did he just randomly interject the title lyric into his own lame-ass rap?

I will repeat, The Motels were robbed.

There's a picture in your head of a martial artist (or an FBI agent) and it involves certain things -- not being a wuss, being tough, having heart, and these things are in service of a certain goal, and not achieving that goal means you are a wuss with no heart and really what were you thinking getting into this anyway?

You've just described my husband's approach to life. "Goddammit, you just had back surgery/heart surgery/etc.!" I'll yell at him (it's not easy to yell etc.). "I'm not an invalid!" he'll yell back.

He's always defined himself by his strength and his body's capabilities. A stint in a wheelchair is always lurking in his memory, goading him on to prove he can do everything he used to do, the increasing scar tissue notwithstanding. This attitude has kept him functioning beyond what most people have thought he was capable of, but there is an unarguable barrier that he keeps bouncing against. He believes that an acceptance of limitation is an acceptance of the wheelchair, despite the fact that he's screwed up recovery times by trying too much too soon.

The Motels looked like someone's mom doing karaoke.

Arrested Development kicked ass though.

Timelies. Weather weirdness continues. Yesterday's high temprature was at around 6 or 7 in the morning (high 70s to low 80s). By the time I left work, it was in the 50s.

Not complaining, mind you, as the humid mid to high 80s crap had to go, but it's odd to be back in April/May during mid-June.

I don't want to be back at work.

I REALLY want my car back today. (Mechanic is expecting the shipment in this morning.)

I forgot my lunch. I don't remember locking my door. (I'm sure I did. It's instinctive. But it is a thing to obsess about.)