Oh, Java. I am so sorry. I wished I lived closer and could do something for you (bring you soup, or possibly whiskey).

Java, I wish I lived closer and could help you make links.

The dog wishes I would stop watching the Sunday political shows. Right now I'm yelling at Lindsey Graham and the dog keeps jumping up and looking for the enemy.

{{{{Java}}}} Sorry I don't live close enough to help in some way. I'll add to the chocolate and booze coming through the interpipes at your command.

{{{{Java}}}} Sorry I don't live close enough to help in some way. I'll add to the chocolate and booze coming through the interpipes at your command.

It smells like pickled peppers in here! (Tom is putting some peppers up)

I am just not feeling this case study paper AT ALL.

{{Javachik!!}} I'm so sorry hon - I know what it's like to feel like a nightmare project is finally over and then have that taken away.

I'm working today too, due to a series of unforeseen setbacks during the week (fire, computer crashes, etc). I'm getting so much done without anyone else here to interupt me that a tiny part of my brain wants to request a permanent change in my schedule to work Sundays instead of Fridays (or Mondays).

Our office is bursting at the seams and tentatively scheduled to move locations next summer. I've already told my supervisor that the one thing I want more than anything else in the world is a production suite with a door. That I can shut. And lock. And hang a "DO NOT DISTURB IF YOU EVER WANT TO SEE ANOTHER TAPE COME OUT OF HERE AGAIN" sign on.

Oh Java, what a drag. May the 2000 links go more quickly than you can imagine and STAY DONE. ::shifty threatening eyes on your behalf::

Best jar advice I ever got: Put one wide rubber band around the edge of the lid, and one on the body of the jar. Lightly tap lid on the counter, then twist from the rubber bands.

Works for me every time. The added traction provided by the bands makes all the difference in the world.

For super stuck lids, run very hot water over the lid edges to melt whatever is gooping it up.

In me news. I feel a little lame. My block is having their annual block party today right outside my kitchen window. I'm hiding. I was originally supposed to be doing a workshop today but ended up canceling my piece when it looked like they would only have 5 participants. (I didn't want to ask the non-profit to pay me. I think they were relieved.)

The participants of the block party are all nice enough people but one is a reactionary Repub who can't help but make innapropriate comments. Another is a lonely guy who, despite every discreet hint, thinks I'm his one and only, and the hosts are beef lobbyists...so there is little I can eat anyway.

Most of the time, I end up being the entertainment...telling stories to fill the awkward silences. I'm not feeling it.

Does that make me Scroogella?

Meh. Planned to clean here for about an hour, for house is dirty, but roommate came in 20 minutes after I started. I'm delaying it for tomorrow, so (kitchen and living room). I just like to clean the house when I'm alone. Not that I'm cleaning it naked or anything, but I don't like the looks and the moving people from one room to another.

So, back to work.

When I was nannying in NYC (late 80s), the couple I worked for had a cleaning woman who DID clean naked. The first time I was there with the baby and she showed up and started stripping down, I almost fell over. She compromised by staying in her panties and camisole.

Fortunately, she was a cute little size 4 thing.

bonny, I'd be hiding out, too. It sounds like it would take a lot of mental energy just to attend, and if you don't want to expend it, I can't blame you.

I just yelled at my dad and caused him to hang up on me. Ooops. He called to see how I was doing, and I told him that I still can't hear out of my left ear, and he told me, "Well, at least you can hear out of your other ear."

Which is, in fact, true. It's just the EXACT WRONG THING to make me feel better. Which I told him, with lots of dramatic embellishment, like, "Yes, I can hear out of my other ear. I also have 2 eyes, and my major limbs haven't yet fallen off. That's true. I guess I should be dancing around the living room for joy that I'm ONLY DEAF IN ONE EAR!!!"

He said, "Well, I've only got ONE HEART AND IT DOESN'T WORK SO WELL."

So I said, "Fine, Dad, you win the suffering sweepstakes! I guess I should be thanking the lord for my deaf ear!"

At which point he said he didn't want to talk to me when I was "like this," and I said fine, and he hung up.

I can't blame him. I *was* obnoxious. But I still fail to see how "At least you can hear out of one ear" is going to make me feel better. That's always his M.O. when someone is sick, and he doesn't understand how it just makes me feel like a whiner for daring to be upset that I can't hear out of one ear rather than being joyful that the iron lung is working.

I should apologize, but I'm not feeling it right now.

And, of course, when we hung up, I lost my shit totally and started sobbing, which got The Boy out of the bedroom because he thought someone died.

I know, I know: I'm on a high dose of oral steroids (which are MAKING ME ITCHY), and they cause mood swings. I get it. BOY, do I get it.

But I'm still not dancing for joy that at least I have one good ear. I'd like the other one to be fixed, god damn it.