Good morning! It's 7:40 am on a Saturday and I've been at work since 6 am, and I've already performed a major miracle!!!
t pats self on back
Dear festival organizer: when I get two dumpsters moved on 8 hrs notice on a weekend - especially when those 8 hrs are OVERNIGHT - because heavens forbid someone has to look at a DUMPSTER - you owe me. Like, HUGELY. And the truck driver. I want a mani pedi at the salon of my choice whilst Alan Rickman reads me Trixie Belden novels and Jason Momoa gives me a shoulder rub. And possibly a unicorn. You'll have to ask K what he wants.
Right, now, off to save the world some more. Toodoloo!
(this message brought to you by COFFEE!!!)
I want whatever smonster is on. This can't be coffee.
I want whatever smonster is on. This can't be coffee.
No earthly coffee, anyway.
So, for reasons unknown to me, I was reading an article about what not to do on cruise ships on travel.aol.com and found this in a section about how you shouldn't assume pirates are part of the entertainment:
...there was a cruise ship attacked by these scoundrels in Gulf of Aden (near Oman) in 2008. Though that was a scenario akin to Chihuahuas attacking a Great Dane, anyone who has ever met a viscous Chihuahua knows, they have sharp teeth.
Now, I myself have never met a viscous Chihuahua, but I find myself wondering how they could have sharp anything, really.
eta: Also be aware that "storms and rouge waves similar to the one made famous in Sebastian Unger’s book The Perfect Storm..." can happen. Also, one should beware of viscous mascara pirate waves.
And to follow up on tree-climbing velociraptors: Man-eating giant birds! [link]
It's a wonder mammals evolved into humans who then survived to create the George Foreman Grill.
I just talked to my mom. They're moving her out of the ICU and onto a regular floor, and she might be able to come home tomorrow.
I'm so glad, Hil. Lots of continuing-recovery and quick-discharge~ma to your mom.
That's great news, Hil. Best to her.
That's great, Hil. Glad to hear it. Hope she'll be out of the hospital in no time.
Argh. My mom does not know the meaning of "relax." She's realized that she's not going to be able to do all the cooking for Rosh Hashanah, so while she's still in the hospital, she's calling me, asking me to look up the phone numbers and menus of various food places so that she can decide what to order and get that all done.
At least it means she's doing better, I guess.
She just called again, to ask about cupcakes. I said, "Aren't you supposed to be relaxing?" She laughed and said, "They haven't told me that yet."